Refurbished by Isaac Hooke

Author:Isaac Hooke [Hooke, Isaac]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-06-03T18:30:00+00:00

13

Eric and the others were called away from the forward base a few days later. A Mind Refurb team had come to replace them. A platoon of Locust M22 models known as the Laser Humpers. Marlborough had told the Bolt Eaters to expect this: they had simply lost too many support troops in the battle against Bokerov, and even if the surviving troops were repaired, their numbers weren’t enough to continue the liberation of the city from the insurgents. Since replacement support troops weren’t incoming, at least for a while, Second Platoon was more appropriately tasked with patrolling the nearby mountains for signs of insurgent activity, hence the reassignment.

So there Eric was, trudging along a winding mountain trail, getting ready for some serious cave searching. There was a tribe of Kurds somewhere in the area, cooped up in one of the caves, run by a local warlord. They had to be careful not to mistake those Kurds for insurgents, which could be a tricky thing, given that the insurgents often liked to copy the dress of the Kurds.

Eric’s LED skin matched the rocky terrain around him, as did the LEDs of the other Cicadas. Ten combat robots, a mix of Savages and Breachers, led the way about two hundred meters ahead, in a variant of a traveling overwatch formation. The Cicadas themselves were separated by ten meters each. They’d left behind their Abrams tanks and Ravager mechs, since they were too bulky to fit the current trail. Eagleeye had given his two remaining Harbingers to Slate to control, as per Marlborough’s orders, since there were no Predators for Slate to guide anymore. Eagleeye meanwhile directed the Ravens that hovered ahead of the combat robots.

The “moon” dust coated their joints in a thin layer, interfering with the terrain-matching LEDs. They paused every few klicks to wipe away the building grime. Slate always sat back and flashed that wide LED smile of his, because he’d procured an anti-dust coating for his Cicada. The army only provided them with the basics—if they wanted anything more, they’d have to use their own credits, or convince the lieutenant, through Marlborough, to make a formal requisition. Anti-dust coatings for all of them hadn’t made the cut.

The lieutenant had remotely reset the Rules of Engagement since their reassignment, so that the Bolt Eaters could no longer fire unless they were attacked first. Eric wasn’t too happy about that, and had been tinkering with the sandbox copy of his codebase since then in his spare time, but hadn’t been able to break out in any of the simulations, not just yet. He promised to share anything new he discovered with Frogger, a promise repeated in turn by his twin, but neither had discovered anything since the day they had first talked about it.

“So I’m actually a bit disappointed that I didn’t meet this Smirnoff guy,” Frogger said over the comm. “He sounds like a gun barrel of fun. With emphasis on the barrel part.”

“Smir who?” Slate said.

“It’s my nickname for Bokerov,” Frogger said.

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