Seven anklebiters burst from the snow.
Taser is gone in a blink. Her namesake fires, ejecting two wires tipped with metal needles. One misses wide but the other punctures the centipede and unleashes a brutal electric shock that fries its circuits down to the waffle board.
"Nice one, Taser! Aces!"
"Twee-tweet!"
Thanks to her alarm, they failed to get the jump on us. So I back her up, shouldering the SMG, ripping bullets through the snow, and landing five fresh anklebiter corpses.
"Look at that! Hell yeah! Get some!"
"Alarm! Alarm! Alarm!"
"Let's move, Taser! Come on, girl!"
I take off running for the safety of Vintner Station. Mechanical whirring and clicking and clacking follows me through the snow, nipping at my hypothetical heels. I kick Air Burst into action, dropping one of my six shots just behind me. The anklebiters essentially detonate under the invisible force, their parts and components raining down into the snow.
A laugh jumps out of me.
Still running, I get another alarm from Taser and she even pings me some targeting data. Without looking, I send my second shot straight for them, blasting a handful more apart. Still more are coming, so I'm still running, and Taser keeps alerting me about groups to blow up, then she cleans up any that get past the Air Bursts.
When I see the structures up ahead, I laugh once more.
"Now I'm geared for Cipher-3!"
Zenith appears from somewhere, leaping atop one of the huts to start taking shots at the bugs I haven't yet killed. I dash into the heart of town, stabbing a leg point into the hard dirt for a cartwheel with no hands that turns me around so I can fire off my last two Air Burst shots. Machines screech and pop and die, raining their parts and pieces and scraps into the snow. Finally, the swarm breaks up and the horde flees back the way it came.
I stand in the center of town catching my frosted breath, clicking the SMG's safety on and off and on and off. I'm glowing. What a blatant display of how far I've already come. I wouldn't have thought combat could be so thrilling.
It's completely different now that I'm not losing.
Zenith drops down next to me from the rooftop. "Why the hell are you smiling?"
I wipe it off my face with the back of a hand, watching my breath cloud. My internal temperatures have risen with the exertion. "I'm just thrilled to be alive, Zenith. And unharmed. I'm unharmed. Nothing could even touch me."
"This time."
"Right, obviously. I know that. Let me have my first win."
"Fair enough. Congratulations. You survived the anklebiters. Anything to show for it?"
"Those," I exhale, tilting my head forward.
"You mean the dead?"
"Maybe two dozen of them. Maybe more. Air Burst made mincemeat."
"Perfect Tech for small crowds." Zenith looks off in the direction I'm facing, the direction I came running from. "Two dozen, you say?"
"How much tungsten do you wager that would add up to?"
"More than we should scoff at. Titanium too. Batteries. Corrosives. Pins, bearings, circuitry…"
"Sure would be a shame to leave it out there to rot."
"For once, we agree."
"Do you think the horde has fled? For good?"
"Affirmative. Let's go collect."
"Copy that. Right behind you. Right, Taser?"
"Chirp-chirp!"
"I don't suppose you have any music programs, do you?"
She beeps a couple times, a ring spinning around her eye. Then she starts singing a little tune, some kind of shanty or a folk song, cheerful and upbeat. Zenith groans but I laugh again, lifting a hand to Taser, which she bumps right into like we're high fiving.
While Zenith and I cube up all the biter corpses we can find, a few stragglers pop up, but the three of us watch each other like hawks. By the time we're done it's late afternoon, and as we head back to the Station, the two of us compare cases.
I take a peek at his. "How many did you get?"
"How many did you get?"
"I asked first."
"Fifteen."
"Ha. I got seventeen."
"Am I supposed to be impressed?"
"I don't care what you are. I beat you. That's what's important."
"I'd hardly call this a victory. You scavved some dead centipedes."
"I killed just about all of them. How many biters have you killed today?"
"Oh, shove it up your outputs, Nep."
"Don't be a sore loser. Just admit you were wrong about thinking I was useless."
"I never said that. Out loud."
"Say it," I demand, stopping at the entrance to the airlock. "Admit it, Zenith. I'm an ace Frame, I'm good at what I do, and you thought I was a joke."
He stands my same height, hawkish blue eyes narrowed with annoyance. "I admit it. I thought you were a joke."
"And now?"
The airlock door opens. As he walks in he says over his shoulder, "Let's just say it's amusing you think killing a couple anklebiters is a big accomplishment, 'ace'. Talk to me when you've downed some real game."
"Gatekeeping." I step in after him, clicking on the safety and magnetizing the SMG to my thigh. Holding both my backpack straps, I press the advantage. "You're deflecting. I want you to acknowledge that you were wrong about me."
As the pressure equalizes, he sighs along with the hisses from all around. "Okay, Nep. Have it your way. I was wrong about you."
I clench my jaw and look away. "Nevermind. Pushing you to say it just means you're complying, not that you really believe it. In the end, it doesn't matter. What you think of me means nothing."
"Agreed, and likewise." The door unlatches and slides open. "But… I will concede I've been treating you unfairly, and apologize. I'm sorry."
Stiffly, I nod, and we both head for Quentin's workshop. Just before we arrive, I conclude the conversation with, "Fine. I accept your apology."
He doesn't say anything.
Quentin is hard at work welding something, but he takes a break and lifts his mask when we arrive. "Soldier. Kid."
"Shouldn't call her that," Zenith says, dropping his pack on a workbench. "It's patronizing."
"I don't mind it," I cut in. "It's endearing. You know what's patronizing? Attempting to speak for me."
Quentin lets out a gruff chuckle. "You can't seem to get any wins, can you, soldier?"
"Apparently I'm more prone to social blunder than I would like to believe."
"Blunder," I repeat, clicking my case open. "More like catastrophe. Maybe you should disable your voice and speech drivers, spare us all the misery of hearing your 'opinions'."
"Now look who's being an asshole."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," I say, forcibly setting my cubes out in neat rows, "were you under the assumption that I would forgive and forget? I don't believe in forgiveness without some form of fairness or equivalency. I'm going to be nasty to you for a while because you were nasty to me for a while, and you deserve reciprocation."
"An eye for an eye."
"A GPU for a GPU. Others may forgive however they see fit. This is how I choose to do it, and whether you agree or disagree with my process is irrelevant. In other words, Zenith, get over yourself and deal with it. Otherwise, we can go back to how we were this whole time. It's no solder off my motherboard. Decision's all yours."
"I survived the trenches of Hecate-16. I'll survive your little retribution."
I slam my case shut and turn to give him an airy smile. "Then kindly shut your mouth, please. Hand over your cubes and leave Quentin and I to our mutual brilliance. Thanks."
The old dog is trying and failing to hide his laughter. I'm getting a sick amusement out of this as well, though I don't let it show. There's something so satisfying about a personality like Zenith's folding in the face of an impeccably worded shutdown. Without anything else passing through the airways from him, he sets out the rest of his cubes and dismisses himself from the workshop.
I exhale the pressure, shaking it all off. "How was that, Quentin?"
"Magnificent, kid. Mutual brilliance? You really mean that?"
"Of course I do. You're incredible, Quentin. Genuinely. Why would I lie about that?"
He shrugs, avoiding looking at me. "Dunno. Always felt just… adequate."
"Then you have my condolences if I'm the first one to make you aware of your skill, capability, and mental acuity. But you're not one to stand on sentiment, are you? Take these words and keep them, but for now, how amazing is this haul and how amazing am I for bringing it in? I'm an ace at this, aren't I?"
"I'd say you're four of a kind on aces, kid. Damn impressive on every account," he wheezes, head turning side to side as he counts up all the bodies. "Thirty two. All in one go. How in the hell did you manage this?"
"Taser." I hold up a hand and she bumps into my palm. "Couldn't have done it without her. Or Air Burst, honorable mention, but she's the real hero today."
"Brings me joy seeing you and her kick so much ass together. I mean, look at this! Thirty two anklebiter asses! Kicked! We'd better feed the old girl, I'm sure she's hungry for something other than rusty iron and tarnished nickel."
"I just need the batteries for Louis and a few of the acid canisters. Actually, maybe all of the acid canisters. Can we do this line style? I'll uncube, pick what I can, toss you the rest, and then you feed the foundry?"
"Works for me. Hey, how's that bullpup doing for you?"
"I think I might be keeping her for good. She's a beauty."
"All yours. Hell, this right here more than covers any… Wait, how we doing this? These are your kills, ain't they?"
"Yes, they are, which means I decide what to do with them, which means you're going to shut up and not argue with me when I tell you to take two-thirds of the materials. That number will probably go up but let's wait and see what the total is."
"Shiiit," he sighs, shaking his head and firing up the old girl. "Shutting up. We're ready to go when you are, ace."
"Hell yeah. Let's rock."
I uncube the first of thirty two anklebiters and do my best to extract both their acid canisters and their lithium batteries. Breaking them apart in my hands feels a bit like preparing shellfish for cooking, but instead of eating them, I get to make bullets and upgrades out of them. I'm excited to see how much material we end up with, and to see what I can make from it all. Not to mention whatever I'll get from Louis for the batteries too.
"Yes, indeed," I mutter to myself, shucking yet another biter's shell. It's a steady rhythm now. "I do think I'm nearly there. Quentin, would you say I'm nearly there?"
"Hell, I'd say anything you want me to say right about now."
"Think I can manage to cross the crater basin?"
He hesitates, cracks a grin. "Hell naw, ace. Don't get antsy now. That way is much more dangerous than you think it is."
"You're right." Snap, pry, pluck, pluck, toss. Just like that. "A couple more days. Then I'll be ready. And once I can get across the basin, I think I'll start seeing some swift progress."
"You think?"
"I have a feeling. I'm keeping this feeling. The alternative is a perspective of aimlessness. That doesn't suit me. Not with how deadly precise my aiming telemetry is. Ha-ha!"
"You're an interesting mind, kid. Keep talking. You're making me learn stuff about myself even yet."
Snap, pry, pluck, pluck, toss. "As are you, Quentin. You're a good friend."
"Friend, eh? Yeah, reckon we are by now, huh? Well, alright then. Friend. A new friend."
I hide my faint smile. I think I just made someone's week.
"Ace," I mutter to myself as I work. "Kind of like that. Maybe that's my callsign… More specific than Nep. Zenith got to choose his name. Yeah, I think I'll go with that. Ace. That's me. Hey, Quentin."
"Yup?"
"Can I go by Ace?"
"I don't see why not."
"Then there it is. That's me. Oh, I have something for you. Actually, I have something for everybody. Except Zenith."
"You do? Damn. I'll message them as soon as we finish this."
It's a good day. The Vintner Station team loves their gifts, there are smiles all around, and with the boxes of food out, I've unloaded all the stuff I found. I'm not sure if I can call them all my friends, but I like seeing them so pleased. With that, I have a sudden desire to take another one of those naps. I'm a big fan of naps.
Excusing myself and accepting the thanks that come my way, I wander over to the bunks, plug myself in for a regen, and lay down to ease into standby mode while hugging Taser, who's sleeping on my chest.
The last thought that crosses my mindscape is that while I've clearly made significant progress on improving my ability to survive Cipher-3, I need to strengthen myself further. Quentin's right, I'm nowhere near able to cross the crater basin to go after that second signal.
I won't lose sight of my directive. I refuse to.
I will find McElroy. When I do, she's dead.