4

It was a city, but not the cities of the Old World that they had seen before. Not the silent ruins reclaimed by nature, where the levels of radiation would give a man hair loss, stools, and nausea if he was lucky. Not the Chernobyls and Pripyats they had explored for scavenging runs, where everything was still and mournful. Here, they could see the night lights and hear the sounds and know that down there everything is moving as life ought to be.

AR-10 remembered the times she had gone from apartment to apartment in deserted suburbs searching for anything that might be of use to her human masters, whether it was spare parts, ammo or canned foodstuffs. How she'd look at the family photos on the wall and poke her head in the children's rooms, thinking of what had been here long before her time. A dog dead in the toilet because it couldn't refill its food and water bowls. Half-finished cereal breakfasts because the parents had to run out to the car with their children when they heard the sirens. Jars of savings for vacations in places AR-10 only had names and postcards to work with. Teenagers' diaries with the page open at their last entry and penned with adolescent hopes and dreams before the war came crashing into their life.

Ordinary people with ordinary problems, before everything went to hell and only the shadow of nations remained.

It was a far cry from what was currently in front of her. All that activity down there in the valley and AR-10 didn't know what to make of it, but her personality algorithms managed to narrow it down.

Restlessness. Perhaps here, she and the other T-Dolls could better understand what they were created to bring back.

FAMAS tried to start the truck again. It didn't work. She got out and looked under the hood. AR-10 could hear her muttering something about a frozen battery under her breath as she stood back and placed her hands on her hips. "I should have just left it running," the French T-Doll said aloud. "We will have to hoof it from here. AR-10, go get EVO-3. Until we find someone to fix her, we take turns carrying her."

"Sorry guys," EVO-3 said as AR-10 clambered onto the truck and came down with EVO-3 on her back.

"Nothing to apologize," UMP40 said. AK-74M was silent.

FAMAS looked at each of the members of her Echelon in turn. Kalina, can you hear us?

Of course.

We're heading into the valley now to Op. Point Charlie. Mind if you could give us an idea of what we're supposed to be looking for once we're down there?

I'll need the Commander to fill you all in on this part. I'll go get him now. AR-10 heard Kalina stifle a snicker over the channel.

She sounds fun, UMP40 piped in.

FAMAS glanced at AK-74M, who gingerly hefted the Package in one hand. Let's get this over with.

The Echelon proceeded to take out their rappelling gear and started setting up for their descent down the cliff and into the valley. For belaying partners, FAMAS went with AK-74M and AR-10 went with UMP40. They checked each other's knots and hitches and other preparations, and when satisfied, proceeded to pace themselves as they walked backward down the face of the cliff.

Halfway through their descent, Kalina came back on the channel. Putting him through now. You're up Danny.

It's Commander. The man sounded groggy. He must have just woken up. Observe protocol. His voice crackled from interference. The snowstorm's died down a bit but it's still interfering with the transmission. Do you read me?

We read you, FAMAS answered.

AR-10 judged a foothold wrong and slipped, spinning on her line. "You're alright, EVO-3?" AR-10 asked her friend after she managed to straighten herself. "Sorry about that.

"Not used to being like this."

"Be careful AR-10," AK-74M said from above them. "Don't need another member down."

"Noted."

"Do you want me to carry her?" UMP40 asked.

"She can handle it," FAMAS said. Sorry about that, Commander. Go ahead.

Here is where things currently stand, the Commander said. Once you arrive on the outskirts of the city, you will be contacted by members of Echelon Kappa-3 who will lead you inside and to a man named Pierre Drummond, who you will hand the Package over to.

Anything we need to know about him? AK-74M asked.

There was a pause from the Commander. He is associated with Leihart General Manufacturing. A current if not diminished competitor in the market of T-Doll technology. They led the debut of your kind many years ago, but have since begun to drift to the wayside. It is crucial that the Package reaches Drummond. Anything more is on a need-to-know basis.

One last question, AK-74M asked, coming to a stop against the cliff wall, her boots sending loose debris plummeting several hundred metres below. The city. What's its name?

Difficult to say. It has many names. Its ethnic composition is multicultural to say the least and as you may already be aware, its existence is considered remarkable in the context of the ravages of the Old War which continued to be felt even to this day. The natives have taken to calling it Vtoroykitezh, the religious call it Shiloh and the like, and it is collectively known as Neigu by the refugees, which means Inside-Valley.

We'll go with the City, FAMAS suggested. Organic's fixation on faith and mystique both baffle me.

In that, Echelon 3 came to the same conclusion, the Commander replied. One last thing. The City is both an independent entity and a hotbed of dissension. There are several transnational corporations locked in a stalemate as they vie for total control, and only a token military force from the local government for the purposes of keeping the city under martial law. As such, you will have no authority in the city and little to no support beyond Echelon 3. Our client has made it clear that in the event that you are compromised or the Package is lost, they will disavow any involvement. Given the nature of the Package, it is crucial that none of the other players in the city know of its existence let alone its presence in their midst.

So it's in anarchy? UMP40 asked.

More of a flux state, the Commander answered. But from recent events, I believe that may no longer be the case anymore.

Why's that?

Because one of the corporations is starting to make its way to the front of the pack, and given its successes in the past, I imagine it will soon have the City under its complete control. Trust me when I say that they are the last people we want to find out about the Package, especially considering G&K's relationship with IOP. If it benefits Persica, they will most-

The Commander's voice crackled with white noise once more. Then it was lost. In the sky above them, the Echelon could hear the wind picking up again.

Storm's returning, FAMAS said. Hurry, we got to get off this cliff.

AR-10 and the team quickened the pace. When they reached the ground, they spread themselves out and headed deeper into the valley with UMP40 taking point and AR-10 bringing up the rear guard as the shower of snowflakes intensified. They crept through the undergrowth in total darkness while they switched their optic settings to night vision. In the distance, they could occasionally hear the sound of vehicles, and they adjusted their route accordingly to steer clear of their owners.

In AR-10's memories, that which was scrubbed of the confidential and classified after the missions were completed, she recalled other firefights that had happened in the snow. Very difficult. Very messy. Little more than skirmishes with combatants fighting blindly and sometimes at point-blank range. Even T-Dolls with all their hardware had trouble distinguishing friend from foe, and it was easy for to get cut off from the rest of their squad.

The organics had it worse, of course. In that place from another time, AR-10 still remembered standing on top of a ridge and looking down at the many bodies in the ice, thinking that they must all be tired if they had all decided to make beds out of snow.

She was sure that place had been Antarctica.

I got eyes on movement, UMP40 announced an hour after they'd climbed down the cliff from AR-10's internal clock. Dead ahead.

Numbers? FAMAS queried.

Just one. Not organic. Another T-Doll I think. Crouched beside the logs and thicket. I don't recognize the model.

I can, AK-74M said. I believe it's a PPSh-41. Commander, does Echelon 3 have one of those?

Yes, proceed to make contact.

AR-10 heard AK-74M go silent as she made a data-link with the PPSh-41. She's with us, AK-74M said after a moment. She's got the correct countersign. The T-Doll stood up from her hiding place in the bush and upon spotting her, PPSh-41 too stood up and waved her gun in the air. She was dainty and was smaller than UMP40 who was the shortest member of AR-10's group.

"Good evening! I will be your tour guide tonight!" PPSh-41 declared as Echelon Kappa-4 jogged up to her. "Type 63 is around here somewhere. She will shadow our flank and make sure we don't get any surprises on our way into the city to meet with the boss." She noted EVO-3 strapped to AR-10's back and her eyes widened.

"We had some trouble on the way," FAMAS said by way of an understatement. AR-10 shrugged.

"Right." PPSh-41 shook her head, recovering. "I think we can get her fixed up once we reach the rest of my group. We'd set up a place for ourselves inside while we were waiting. Right this way."

The Echelon, led by PPSh-41, continued their way deeper into the valley and towards Neigu. Several times the T-Doll told them to stop and several times they halted and heard the sounds of other T-Dolls and security drones move past their position.

A couple of minutes passed before Type 63 joined their designated channel and introduced herself. I'm situated about half a klick west of your position, she advised, voice fading in and out of the haze of white noise they were all receiving. I'd see you all in person, but there's another group heading in your direction. I'll lead them away.

As if to demonstrate, AR-10 heard Type 63 snap off a shot into the air, before it was followed by sounds of running footsteps.

Don't get into more trouble than you can chew, PPSh-41 said.

Of course. See you guys inside.

Type 63's voice trailed off, lost in the interference of the weather which was reaching a peak. PPSh-41 led them deeper into the snowstorm. At this point, it was difficult for them to see more than a few dozen steps ahead. The T-Dolls found their feet wet as they trudging through frozen marshlands where soft mud laid beneath a layer of water. Then they went down an incline and were wading through the vegetation of a swamp.

So what's in that suitcase you got to deliver? PPSh-41 asked AK-74M, looking back briefly as the other T-Doll lifted the suitcase over her head to make sure it didn't touch the brown and brackish water. The short T-Doll seemed to somehow know the wetland by memory, jumping from dry patch to dry patch where there was solid footing as the other Echelon had to contend with the mud.

That's classified.

Whatever PPSh-41 was about to say, she never got to it. They heard a series of loud shrill wails from above them, and UMP40 yelped as gunfire rained on her position. "Drones," PPSh-41 said. "Follow me." She upped the pace, and AR-10 and company followed suit as dozens of the airborne units swooped in from above them, firing with their mounted guns. The Echelon replied in kind, and several of the drones fell from the sky with smoke trailing in their wake. As it was, with the snowstorm, the T-Dolls were firing all but blind.

As if things couldn't get any worse, AR-10 heard the sound of a heavy vehicle coming closer. Much bigger than a truck, with more wheels to add insult to injury. Perhaps an armoured personnel carrier at least, and a tank at worse. Then she heard the low repeated thump of a heavy machine gun raking the wetland from behind them, indicating the former.

Under heavy fire, a small sapling in front of AR-10 was ripped to shreds, and she felt FAMAS kick her feet from under as the other T-Doll dove down into the marsh as they heard more rounds roar over their heads.

AR-10's vision was obscured by dirty water. The marsh only went up to her thighs, and she felt EVO-3 touch the bottom as her harness came free and the other T-Doll drifted away from AR-10. With the drones shooting from above, and the heavy artillery at their rear, AR-10 was sure that she was to feel the solid punch of high-calibre rounds at any moment. She thrashed, trying to find EVO-3 but her hands grasping on nothing.

Then her head broke water as AR-10 felt someone pull her up. It was AK-74M, stooping as low as possible so as not to get hit by the machine gun. Her lips were moving.

She stiffened. A pair of drones flew over her head from behind.

AK-74M spun around, bringing her rifle to bear and sending one away with a wild burst from the hip. Her shoulder erupted in shards of metal and polymer. She fell back into the water, dropping the suitcase.

AR-10 lunged and caught it by the handle. Hefting her weapon in the other hand, she heard the thumping of the machine gun continue, but it sounded like they were shooting elsewhere. UMP40 and PPSh-41 blurred past her, each waving a hand indicating that they are to be followed as they cleared a way through the drones.

The communication channel was down. AR-10 realized they were being jammed. FAMAS was nowhere in sight.

She pulled AK-74M to her feet and they ran after the other pair of T-Dolls, the latter noticeably favouring her undamaged shoulder. They could still hear the wailing drones over their head, but their firing had also lessened somewhat.

Deeper into the wetland did the members of the Echelon trudge, half-slipping and tripping as they scrambled to solid snow and safety, minus FAMAS and EVO-3. AR-10 passed AK-74M, who was lagging behind. AR-10 turned and saw a humanoid figure half shrouded by the blizzard and looming over AK-74M.

The boom of a shotgun sent AK-74M tumbling down on all fours, her body aflame and her weapon slipping from her fingers. The ammunition was incendiary. AK-74M screamed.

The suitcase dropped into the water, AR-10's rifle rang out twice and then it clicked empty. The shotgun turned AR-10's way, and she skirted around the wielder as it boomed again and again. AR-10 reloaded as she sprinted and as AK-74M thrashed about in the bog. Buckshot flew past her face as AR-10 worked back the slide. Drones flew overhead.

With one in the chamber, AR-10 began to dispatch the drones first with double taps each, then she heard UMP-9 and PPSh-41 come to her aid as they each laid down suppressive fire, alternating so that the other could reload. The last one was sent spiraling to crash somewhere into the distance.

The shotgun boomed from much closer. AR-10 brought her rifle to bear as the figure came pelting, leaping into the air. AR-10 saw a face framed with white hair and grunted as a heavy boot crashed into her ribs, her shot going wide.

She flew back.

She realized was fighting another T-Doll. An M590.

She hit the water and mud with a splash. She immediately sat up and stiffened as she looked up the barrel of a shotgun and further up into M590's unblinking gaze.

It seemed as if it was the end.

But AK-74M was not out of the fight. M590 turned as a smoldering AK-74M sank the combat knife she'd kept from the road skirmish into M590's side, aiming for her core. The shotgun T-Doll swiped at the rifle counterpart, who ducked and threw a knee into the hilt of the knife, sending the blade deeper into M590's torso, before following up with an elbow into M590's chin, snapping her face sharply to the side with the force of the blow.

The shotgun T-Doll growled, reared her head back and slammed her forehead against AK-74M's. As AK-74M stumbled back, M590 fired at her point-blank once and then twice as AK-74M turned and fell face-first into the water, on fire again.

She would have fired a third time, but that was when UMP40 and PPSh-41 came to their companions' aid. M590 threw an arm over her face as they emptied their magazines, sparks flying from the T-Doll as stray rounds glanced off her body armour. She retreated back into the blizzard, leaping out of sight.

AR-10 sat up and scrabbled on all fours to AK-74M. Even with the mud and water, the other T-Doll still burned although the flames were already dying. UMP40 came by with the suitcase in tow and together they dragged AK-74M up. The Russian was motionless.

Behind them, the wail of more drones could be heard. There was no time to find FAMAS and EVO-3. They had to move on.

But now their chances of completing the mission had just taken a turn for the worse.

The remaining members of the Echelon were silent as PPSh-41 led them into the City, into civilization. She did so by taking them through a grate to descend down the sewers.

Their feet sloshing through sewer water, the Echelon followed PPSh-41 as she led them through the tunnels, paths branching off until it was difficult for even a T-Doll to compute the number of possible exits. Small animals could be heard skittering in the darkness. AR-10 was sure she saw things as large as a dog in the shadows. The Old World's wildlife had changed for the worse. But what hadn't?

As for the stench of the city's bowels, the less said the better. While all that was glamorous laid above on the surface, all that was refuse trickled its way down beneath where no one bothered to look.

AR-10 reckoned the organics would say that the description could be applied as an analogy for a lot of things, from the agendas of political parties to people in general.

Eventually, PPSh-41 showed them up a ladder that opened up in a rubbish-strewn alleyway via a manhole. There were cardboard boxes, old sofas, broken TVs and washing machines. Signs of the homeless could be found in makeshift dumpster fires but they were long gone. But with the snowflakes drifting down from the skies above, it seemed they had sought shelter elsewhere.

UMP40 still checked for anyone nearby, her feet crunching over broken glass and newspapers. With AK-74M over her shoulders, AR-10 lifted her up and set her down. The T-Doll was cold and it was not a good sign. It meant she was offline. She could come to, but who knew when, if ever?

PPSh-41 hopped from a garbage compartment onto a fire escape. AR-10 watched her go, looking up at the empty clothes' lines between the buildings around them.

For a moment, with the snow and the darkness and the waste around her, the T-Doll found herself feeling something she couldn't quite pin down. Perhaps a glitch in her programming? Perhaps a shiver of the soul? Perhaps a profound calculation, where her ones and zeroes aligned perfectly to determine the first step to solving the mystery her creators were still grasping to comprehend? Perhaps electronic godhood?

"This is bullshit," UMP40 mumbled.

AR-10 watched her kick a dumpster over, spilling trash onto the ground, before stomping a distance away while continuing to mutter to herself. "Calm down," AR-10 said. UMP40's personality algorithms were definitely malfunctioning. It mirrored the stages of grief and loss that plagued humans in for that was how the Dolls were designed, especially those with the programming for emotions as IOP made them. An imitation of biological hormones. "It's no use getting yourself worked up like that."

"I know that! Still, you can't tell me you're not upset too."

PPSh-41 whistled, drawing both of their attention. She stood at the top of the fire escape and waved at them to come up.

With AR-10 carrying AK-74M and UMP40 lugging the Package, they jumped from ledge to ledge to the fire escape, before following PPSh-41 in and away from the cold.

From door to corridor before standing behind another door, PPSh-41 doffed her fur hat and bowed with one leg behind the other. "Welcome home," she said shakily before turning the knob and beckoning them inside.

Home, as AR-10 found it, was a haven filled with a quiet despair. As she and UMP40 stepped inside, PPSh-41 closing the door behind them, AR-10 noticed it immediately. There was no rubbish, no grime and no mold, which was good, but whereas the homes she'd come across before bore traces of a life that had been halted with photos and the tidy mess that came with human inhabitation, the apartment room before her was empty, with blank walls, empty tables and ledges and only the bare essentials.

The best word to describe such accommodations was sterile. Functional yes, but sterile.

Nevertheless, T-Dolls were soldiers, not vacationers. It was four walls and a roof, and that was what counted in the end. AR-10 chalked up her disappointment to her own personality algorithms and promptly inhibited them. She set AK-74M down on the sofa as UMP40 set the Package on the dining table.

"I'm going to head off and find the others," PPSh-41 said nervously, still standing in the doorway. "In the meantime, make yourselves comfortable."

Then the door was slammed shut before AR-10 and UMP40 had time to come up with a response. Which left them staring at each other from across the living room in awkward silence.

"We need to go back," UMP40 said. "FAMAS and EVO-3 are still out there."

"We need to deliver the Package."

"Forget the Package," UMP40 retorted. "You deliver it. I'll find our teammates. Whatever's in the damn thing anyway?"

They both turned to look at the suitcase. AR-10 stiffened as UMP40 shot her a mischievous look. "Don't."

"Just a peek," UMP40 suggested.

"We don't have orders to look."

"We don't have orders not to look." UMP40 turned and undid the clasps.

AR-10's arm slid around her throat as she yanked UMP40 back. They struggled, their servos faintly whining as they fought for purchase, and UMP40 kicked out at the table to push herself and AR-10 so they toppled backward.

The table rocked from the kicked and the suitcase tumbled off.

From the floor, UMP40 and AR10 paused as the top flew open. They slowly turned their heads.

Curled up inside the suitcase was a little girl.