Disclaimer:
This story is based on the characters and situations
created for Gene Roddenberry's Andromeda
and which are the property of Tribune Entertainment.
All other rights are reserved Fang-Face DreamWeaver 2002
(by the pre-Commonwealth calendar of Old Earth)
Rating: PG; due to graphic descriptions of violence
Spoiler Alert/Tie ins: To Loose The Fateful Lightning; Lava And Rockets; Ourobourus
Believe me! The secret of reaping the greatest fruitfulness and the greatest enjoyment from life is to live it dangerously. --Fredrich Nietzsche, Die Froliche Wissenschaft, IV, 283
Children's Hour
Darkness. And silence.
Implacable. Imponderable.
All encompassing.
Both so deep that one would be lost within them.
Then a blaze of light as ceiling lamps came on.
Blast doors hissed open to break the silence. That noise was followed in short order by a cheerful voice. "And voila! Here we are. Starboard gymnasium, upper decks; and you thought I didn't know where I was going. You owe me a Sparky Cola."
"See," Trance said, smiling. "I told you he wouldn't get lost this time."
Harper led the way into the cavernous space, a room so large that his voice didn't even echo. Neither did Tyr's when he answered, "I hardly see how even he could have gotten lost when we have Andromeda's Avatar with us to lead the way."
"Geez, it's always nice to hear that bright and shining optimism of yours, Tyr. I remind you, however, that Rommie is with us right now because of her special talents in the field of cybernetics. Not because us geniuses tend to not pay attention to niceties such as which corridor goes where."
"Be that as it may, Harper," Rommie replied, "I don't understand why you didn't ask me where you were yesterday after half an hour of wandering unfamiliar corridors."
"Ah, . . . well, it's a Harper thing. My own father was well known for once not asking which way to take to get out of a public square that had only two ways into it. The important thing here is that the cobbling together of this suit all took place in Machine Shop 17. All you have to do, Tyr, is put it on." He took the suit in question from the arms of the droid that was carrying it and draped it over Tyr's shoulder. He huffed a bit trying to sling it that high but got it up on the first attempt. Tyr shrugged it into a more comfortable position as Harper turned to the android. "Thank you, just put them down here," he said, pointing to the floor.
"I am still not certain that I wish to partake of this 'experiment'."
"Oh, come on, big guy, you know we need you to do this. Who else do we have on board with the necessary qualifications? The whole point of the suit is that it works directly with implanted Neitzschean nanobots to create an immersive virtual environment in which Neitzscheans can exercise or train for combat without leaving the comfort of their ship." He opened the first case and handed up, one at a time, four rolls of cabling to Rommie. Each roll had a squarish connector at both ends, suggesting that each was some kind of ribbon cable. Then he handed four squarish objects to Trance.
"If you would be kind enough to lay out the positioning grid, Angel-face?"
"Why, Harper, that's the nicest thing you've called me in several months."
Harper paused, then said, "You're welcome, Trance, but actually I was talking to my first Angel-face."
"What's that ribbon cable for, anyway?"
"Well, my other Angel-face, that is not really a ribbon cable. It is a self-centering, fiber optic laser belt. These things I've given you are the control and power units. One of these control and power units goes into each corner. Those belts Rommie is holding run between the P&C units and each fiber optic filament shines out through the side of the belt to be picked up by the belt across the room. With all four walls encompassed it will create a grid across the floor that will deterimine the exact position of an object, like say Mister Mountain Man's feet here, to within a micrometer. That information will be fed into the chief microprocessor in the suit and used to redraw the virtual environment in the user viewfield. So, for instance, say tall and gruesome here is chasing down something that is losing a fight and doesn't want to and it runs close to a geothermal vent. As he runs after it, the chief microprocessor will have the suit air conditioning unit heat up on the side of the vent and remain cool on the other side. If it turns around and bites Tyr, the suit will send a message directly to his nanobots to activate the pain nerves on his body where he would have been bitten for real.
"So, hoopla! -- all the danger and thrills without any of the fuss and muss of mopping up buckets of blood afterward."
Tyr cleared the braids covering his face. "I still don't see why you can't try it out with a lesser warrior. We do have allies, you know."
"Ah, yeah, but since none of them really measure up to your high standards you'd probably just kill them and create a nasty diplomatic incident."
Tyr thought for a second, then shrugged. "Point taken."
"Besides, everything on this baby has been thoroughly bench-tested and checked out by yours truly and by Andromeda Ascendent her very own self and she has assured me that the components are robust enough that even you can't break anything unless you make a specific effort to do so. Believe me, big guy, there is absolutely nothing that can possibly go wrong."
Listening in as she and Rommie headed for one of the corners, Trance raised her eyebrows and smiled grimly.
By the time Tyr had put the suit on and Harper had added the additional components from the second case Rommie and Trance had finished placing the P&C units and laying out the laser belt. "Okay, kiddies, all we have to do now is get out of the way and let Tyr strut his magnificent stuff, and since this exercise is to test the suit under extreme conditions I don't think any of us want to be in the way when he encounters a group of hostiles he is going to have to exterminate with extreme prejudice. Geez! -- I love that rhetoric! Who comes up with stuff like that, anyway?"
Rommie passed a hand over the suit and attached units, while she answered him. "Mostly governments that don't want to be seen soiling their hands with dirty work."
"Or," Trance added, "petty dictators that want to justify their actions with any handy rationale."
"Yeah, yeah, okay, I was only speaking rhetorically. I mean as in asking a rhetorical question? Are you people trying to confuse me, or what?"
Tyr answered, "Shouldn't take much."
"Oh, ha-ha. This is the thanks I get for trying to make life easier for Nietzscheans both of us would just rather kill."
"Well, Harper," Trance said, "you know that not all Nietzscheans should be killed, and if it comes to that, I don't think any of us want to have a bunch of allied Nietzscheans come back from a several month long voyage without any rest and recreation and start shooting at us."
Harper just made a face showing that he couldn't counter the argument but that he didn't want to accept it. Rommie said, "My scan shows that all the circuitry is nominal. We are ready to begin live testing the suit."
Tyr put on the helmet and Trance helped with closing the neck seals. He asked, "Is there any place in particular that I should be standing to start the test?"
"Not at all," Harper replied. "The cybernetics will plot your position in relation to the environment it will recreate. The earphones will handle sounds just as if you were hearing them in a real world environment and the same thing for smells; which is why we have to have an enclosed helmet. As well as for altering life support conditions for heat and cold weather. You'll even be able to feel rain drops falling on you by directing your nanobots to stimulate the appropriate nerves."
Rommie continued, "For the purpose of this exercise, the gymnasium, which is thirty by thirty meters, has been divided into eight primary sections. In the virtual environment, these sections will be differentiated by footpaths, two of which will basically run diagonally from corner to corner, and two others which will bisect the gymnasium into quarters. They all meet at the center, of course. There is also a footpath that runs around the perimeter of the room. Total length of the main paths is three hundred fifty meters.
"Each triangular section will also have areas within it hidden by vegetation and accessible by other footpaths. Less well defined paths. I believe the term for these is game trails. Each section contains one hundred twelve point five square meters of terrain.
"For the purpose of this exercise you will be restricted to a thirty by thirty area. Once we are certain the suit passes muster we'll execute an add-on subroutine allowing the subject to go beyond those boundaries by having the main system load new areas into the suit systems.
"I would also like to draw your attention to the exoskeleton mechanics of the suit. If you try to walk through an object the system paints as solid, say a tree, the knee joints will lock up at the point where you would contact the tree, or the elbow joints if you try to punch it. This allows the subject or user to experience full positive feedback and maintains the verisimilitude of the simulation. These mechanics will act much the same way if you punch an assailant so the impact of the strike will feel as if you had in fact punched someone."
"Really? Well then, perhaps this will prove to be more fun that I thought it would. Am I able to select the assailants whom I will be confronting? Say, Chuchulain or Charlemagne?"
"Oh? . . . Well, no. We didn't think about that. I'll include that item at the top of the list for upgrades, though."
"Thank you. So, now what?"
"We leave and the simulation will begin as soon as the door closes," she said, and began walking to the door.
"Good luck," Trance said, and followed her.
"Uh, yeah, good luck, although I've got the feeling that whatever you confront is going to need it a lot more. Just remember, you can feel pain and the suit will react to any injuries you receive the way it will if you try to walk through any trees. Lose an arm and that sleeve of the suit will lock up and your nanobots will be directed to make that arm numb. But, uh, the good news is that you won't actually die if they get in a lucky shot and kill you in the immersive environment."
"It is gratifying to know that."
"I'm sure it is, and now, I'm out'a here. Let the games begin." Harper headed for the door as well.
Tyr stood patiently, watching the bare walls of the gymnasium through the helmet visor. Suddenly, the mid-level light of the gymnasium was replaced with nearly blinding sunlight and the dense foliage of a rain forest appeared around him. He spun, and the scenery spun as well. He looked at himself and saw himself as he was usually equipped for action. Chainmail, knife, forcelance, sidearm, and not a sign of the suit he was wearing. One side of his face felt a burning and he looked in that direction to see the sun of this world shining down directly on him. "Most impressive."
An image of Andromeda appeared before him. "Why, thank you, Tyr. You have no idea how much time Trance and I spent on this programming."
"Are you a part of this exercise, Ship?"
"No, I am simply monitoring the communications link in the helmet. This entire session is being recorded and any comments you make on the functioning of the hardware and software will also be recorded, of course, for assessing the results. I can appear before you by simply projecting this image into the suit systems, but the suit will not recognize me as a solid object."
At the mention of solid objects Tyr looked at a large rock next to the path he was on. He kicked at it firmly, and true to Rommie's warning it felt as if he had kicked the side of a mountain. "Fascinating," he muttered. "If I didn't know I was in the gymnasium I would swear I was on the surface of a planet. I can hear at least fourteen different bird calls and the sounds of numerous animals moving in the brush. As well as a waterfall. I can also smell the spoor of at least three different species of animals and the water from the river. Not to mention a great deal of flowering plant life. Most impressive, indeed." The Andromeda hologram looked very pleased.
Tyr spun lithely at the sound of a sudden explosion of wings from some fifteen meters away. He faced that direction in a shooter's crouch, the muzzle of his sidearm held steadily, parallel to the ground. The image of Andromeda remained directly in front of him, but his weapon appeared to be aiming beyond her.
Tyr tried to move his head to look around the image, but it stayed dead center. It took him a moment to realize the futility of what he was doing. He listened carefully for a few seconds, then made up his mind. "Well, since I'm supposed to explore this environment I suppose this is as good a time as any to start and that is as good a direction as any in which to go." He moved along the footpath and the image of Andromeda faded out.
For all his care, Tyr moved quickly, covering a surprising distance in a short time. From ahead, he could hear a gnawing sound from the other side of a small, flat-topped boulder. He decided to test the suit and bounded onto the top of the boulder. He felt the shock of the landing and the scenery seemed to jar a bit as it redrew to show a view from the top of the boulder. A sudden movement from a few meters away revealed a jaguar eating some animal Tyr didn't recognize. It snarled and hissed, then screamed in challenge.
"Pardon me," he said to it. "I know just how you feel, though. I hate to have my fine dining interrupted also." Then he jumped backwards off the rock. It was a powerful jump, meant to take him away from a creature he had nothing against and didn't want to fight, and he cleared a good two meters. His flight path took him straight across the path he had been following, however, and well into the underbrush. Including through a tree that was supposed to be a solid object. Andromeda reappeared.
"Hey, I saw that."
"It's not supposed to be possible. How did it happen?"
"You jumped. The suit mechanics can keep you from walking through things, but we cannot abrogate the laws of physics. Once you jump in a direction you keep going in that direction until you hit something that really is solid. We foresaw this glitch, but there isn't anything we can do about it, really."
"Shame. It is certainly anamolous enough to destroy the illusion entirely."
"Well, it's easy to correct for. Just keep your feet on the ground."
"Why not just have the exoskeletal mechanics take local terrain into account and not allow any jumps through solid objects."
Andromeda blinked at him. "Now why didn't Harper think of that? I've made a note of that suggestion for the upgrades. Those subroutines should be ready shortly, but I won't risk this test by attempting to upgrade on the fly." Tyr's head came up.
"I think I hear a party I wasn't invited to. And it's coming this way. If you'll excuse me, Ship."
"Go to it, Mountain Man."
Tyr reacted as if he had been momentarily stunned. "Please, in the name of all that is holy, do not allow your speech patterns to be influenced by Harper. One of him is more than enough." Andromeda smiled and then her image faded out. Tyr began stalking through the underbrush.
Inside one of Andromeda's many conduits, Harper removed an access panel and scanned a group of circuits. "Ah, Andromeda? I'm ready to start work on that plasma relay. You wanna shunt the particle flow for me?"
A hologram of Andromeda appeared next to him. "Certainly, Harper. Activating shunt to alternate conduit; opening valves; shutting valves to this conduit; flow is diverted; now venting residual plasma; and . . . done."
Between two of the upper decks, along the starboard side of the ship, a conduit underwent rapid thermal expansion as plasmized gas flowed into it at 2,500 degrees centigrade. Stresses introduced by the near passage and explosions of enemy munitions during combat suddenly underwent fulminating escalation. In a few seconds, a series of cracks developed around the area suffering materials fatigue and then the area failed. Plasma began venting through the blowout with all the power of a laser cutter. Fiber optic cables all but disintegrated, insulation burned off electrical cabling, and a section of the bulkhead began to glow red, then melt, then run like butter and the venting plasma jetted through the hole and into the cybernet nexus on the other side of the wall.
"Harper. We have a problem."
"Oh, great, what now? The Magog World Ship just pop out of slipstream?"
"No. That conduit I'm using as a shunt just blew out. I'm shutting off the flow, but I'm registering malfunctions in numerous systems. That conduit is under a lot of pressure and I can't open the vent valves so it will take a while for the pressure to drop -- AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHH! OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH! By the Divine! That hurts! Stop it! Stop it!"
"Andromeda! What is it? What's happening?"
"There's some kind of catastrophic failure in a cybernetic nexus near that conduit failure. The temperature is skyrocketing! I'm burning up!"
"Okay, okay! Take it easy, babe. You're gonna be all right!" He said to her, grabbing his tools. "I'm on my way there right now. I'll take care of it! Just don't -- uh! -- don't worry, okay? I know it hurts but it isn't like it's anywhere near your core. It's like, burning a finger or something, all right? Just disengage from that nexus and cut it out of the loop."
After a second the pain disappeared from her face. "Okay. Done."
"Great. There you go. See. Trust in the Harper. The Harper is good," he shouted back over his shoulder and he hurried off. "Why were you connected to that nexus, anyway?"
Her hologram appeared before him as scooted around a corner. "Because I was monitoring the test of the Immersive Virtual Environment suit. That nexus is right next to the Starboard Gymnasium. I must have gotten feedback filtered through the neuronal monitor subroutines for Tyr's nanobots."
Harper paused. "Oh, crap. Tyr? Is he okay?"
"Yes, I guess. The plamized gas is too far from the gymnasium wall to burn through into the gymnasium. We have another problem, however."
"Oh, great. Now what?"
"I've lost contact with Tyr. He's not responding to my efforts to communicate. Nor am I receiving telemetry from the suit."
"Oh, man," he complained, opening the conduit hatch. "Big and gruesome is going to eat me for lunch if anything's gone wrong with that suit."
On the bridge, Dylan and Trance conferred with another hologram of Andromeda. "So, that is strictly the recreational area? Gymnasium, theater? . . . "
"Yes, but there are other systems routed through that area. Life support for that quadrant of the ship, for instance. Not that that makes much difference without a crew to populate it. As I told Harper, the most serious problem is that I can no longer contact Tyr. Direct communications are out."
"Ah, is that like, really bad?" Trance asked. "I mean, he's in the gym and everything he sees is just a projection onto his eyeballs, right? There's nothing he can hurt himself against except the walls."
"Yes, but don't forget that whatever he is fighting can hurt him, and the subroutines to determine whether he has been killed or not were contained in that damaged nexus. Without access to those subroutines he might well be in mortal danger."
Trance understood before Dylan did. "Oh, geez, that is bad. Uh, . . . well, . . . what can you use to contact him? I mean, can you reprogram the suit to simply stop?"
Andromeda looked upwards as she consulted her cybernetic systems. "Not with the damage to the nexus. I cannot project an image of myself or transmit to the suit helmet. Repairs to the necessary systems will take several hours . . . " She pouted. "The bulkhead is jammed. We can't even send someone into the gymnasium to talk to him."
"Oh, well, isn't that just jim-dandy. Here I've got a crewman in mortal danger of his life in Neverland and no way to bring him out."
"Wait, wait! Do you have lasers or anything in the gym? Can't you read the vibrations of an object using a laser and translate the modulations back into sound?"
"Of course. It's one of the oldest intelligence gathering tricks around, and you have the lasers for the light shows for the end of game celebrations."
Andromeda pouted again. "Yes, but laser communications is line of sight. He would have to be looking up since the lasers are in the rafters. However," she said, looking pleased, "I have full access to them."
"Great!" Trance exulted. "Then you can do it! And you can scroll text messages across the viewfield of the helmet. And maybe you can work on a way to send voice messages by modulating the nanobots monitoring his hearing or something!"
Andromeda cocked an eyebrow. "An intriguing suggestion. I'll see if I can do that."
In the gymnasium, Tyr growled as he ripped his bonespurs out of his last opponent's chest. The eyes of the image rolled upwards and he gurgled in his throat as the pseudo-corpse fell to the ground. "Well, that was certainly a fun bit of exercise, Ship." He scanned his surroundings, looking closely and listening closely, then blinked in confusion. "Ship?"
Still no response. He peered around suspiciously again as the sneaking realization came to him that this silence from Andromeda heralded bad tidings. Unsure of the situation, he decided that the best course of action was to be a moving target rather than a sitting duck. He moved off cautiously, stalking his way down the trail. A few moments later he peered upward. He had the sense that something had flashed by, just outside his peripheral vision. Then a washed-out image of Andromeda appeared before him. Words in black appeared, scrolling along the top edge of his viewfield; against the sky.
_Tyr? I cannot communicate with you by voice. I can, however, read the sound of your voice from vibrations off the helmet faceplate._
"I thought something had happened when I called you and there was no answer. Has our genius-boy fouled up again?"
_No. This one is my fault. I opened a plasma shunt near the gymnasium and it blew out. The resulting jet cut through a bulkhead and critically damaged a cybernetic nexus. You are in danger and I am cut off from the suit._
"So, why is this a problem? What do I possibly have to fear from a few mirages?"
_As you know your body's nanobots can be programmed by the suit to activate specific nerve bundles to simulate pain, but there are subroutines that must be consulted first. Those subroutines were not loaded into the suit. They were in the logic boards of the nexus. Even if those logic boards survived, the subroutines cannot be consulted. What this means is that if you are stabbed through the heart or any vital organ, the suit will probably order your nanobots to shut down that organ. You can be killed by those mirages._
"Suppose I just take off the suit?"
_That won't be enough. We can't communicate with the suit to stop the program, so it will also keep transmitting to your nanobots. Also, the bulkhead is jammed, so you can't leave the gymnasium._
Tyr stared at the image of Andromeda for a moment, then said, "Well, I shall just have to take care that I do not allow an attacker inside my defenses, that is all."
_All right, then. In the meantime Harper is working on that nexus, but repairs to the few critical systems will take about four hours. I'll maintain surveillance with the lasers in the gymnasium rafters so anytime you want to talk to me just look up so I scan the helmet faceplate._
On the command deck Andromeda reported to Dylan. "Tyr has been apprised of the situation. He understands that an encounter can be fatal."
"Well, that's a relief. At least if he's going to go down it'll be fighting."
Trance asked, "Can't we do something by cutting off that positioning grid?"
"No," Andromeda answered. "It's self-contained. Also, I'm not sure what affect it would have, but I've made a note for future tests so we can find out."
Dylan called out, "Mr. Harper? Have you got anything yet? You might remember that Tyr didn't take kindly to just the idea that you were using him for a lab rat when you were building the tesseract device."
"Uh, yeah, boss, I haven't forgotten that, but things are really a mess down here. Burnt wiring, fiber-optics, memory units, some of the energy lines are still live, the air stinks and is probably toxic, and it's -- AH! Hot! Hot! Hot! -- " he shouted, pulling his hand back from the deck he had touched. "Ow! Ah, geez! -- " he shouted again, having banged his head on a stanchion.
"Harper?! You okay?"
"Yeah, yeah; I just burned a couple of layers of skin off a hand I'm going to need to fix things here and knocked my head against the wall. You have any idea how tough skinned our Rommie is?"
"Speaking of which, I think I better send her down to give you a hand." The avatar nodded to Dylan and headed for the corridor. "The sooner we can get Tyr out of there the better."
"Uh, yeah, well, about that, boss. I can see from where I'm standing that the power coupling for the door is cut right through and the door is welded to the frame by its own melted edge."
"Great. Well, do what you can. We'll continue to monitor the situation in the gymnasium. I guess we can always cut through the door as a last resort."
In the gymnasium, Tyr patiently stalked another group of Nietzscheans. From their dialogue he could tell they were hunting him. Or whomever or whatever had killed the other group. He was about to pounce on a straggler when a noise from up the trail attracted his attention. It sounded as if a second patrol was approaching. He melted back into the undergrowth. A few moments later he was surprised to see a group of familiar figures. He peered more closely and recognized them as the first group he had attacked. He watched, slightly confused and remaining hidden, as they moved past in a tactical formation. When they were gone from sight he stepped out onto the trail and looked upward.
"Ship? Are you listening?"
The washed out image of Andromeda reappeared. _Yes?_ He told her about the group of respawned opponents. _That can't be good. Give me a moment to confer with Trance._
On Command Deck, Trance looked worried. "A group he had encountered and killed was regenerated? But that's not supposed to happen. Oh, golly, I hope a parsing error didn't create a loop."
Beka asked, "That would be, like, really, really, bad?"
"Oh, yes. Oh, so very, very bad. It means that when he kills a group and the program generates a new group to replace it, it will also respawn the group he just killed. The suit will keep populating the simulation with more and more opponents in a progression instead of linearly."
Dylan grimaced. "That's just what we need. Eventually there'll be so many that even Tyr won't be able to take them all. And what if he kills only a few of them. Will individuals also respawn?"
"Uh, . . . I guess so. . . . "
In the gymnasium, Tyr gaped at the image of Andromeda. "Be careful to not kill anybody?"
_Killing an opponent will cause the program to generate a replacement, killing a group will generate a new group and respawn the one you killed. You'll basically be creating an army, although the groups are programmed to operate independently. However, they are also programmed to act realistically. If you attack and defeat one group, the noise of combat will attract any other nearby groups, and if they respawn together, they will form a single group as they would in a real tactical situation. And eventually they'll fill up all the available space within the positioning grid; leaving you no place to dodge or hide._
Tyr shrugged. "All right then, mission parameters are now escape and evasion. What progress is Harper making on the damage?"
_He and my avatar are working on repairs. Harper is using a torch to cut the bulkhead free from the wall. Rommie is ripping out damaged components.
Apparently with her bare hands.
And she seems to be enjoying herself. . . . _
Inside the gymnasium walls Rommie looked forlornly at the wreckage. "This is really a mess. I've got some androids heading this way with power couplings, energy lines, and fiber optic cables, but these more complex components we don't keep in stock. I'm going to have to cannabilize some lesser used systems."
"Again? Dylan ain't gonna like that. Even with the new Commonwealth we still have a hard time getting parts. Not to mention that most of them are three hundred years out of date and nobody thought to make current technology retro-compatible."
"It can't be helped, Harper. The Artisan Guild in the Trade Federation is building components, but it's as if they have to build prototypes. They won't be able to start making complex components to order for another couple of months."
"Yeah, I know, except it seems that we always need the stuff right now."
"Well, we do. And my ship-self tells me that Tyr is practicing escape and evasion, but that doesn't sound like Tyr. I don't know how long he's going to hide and run before he starts toying with the enemy just to see what happens."
"Yeah, well, can you give me an estimate on what we can replace now?"
On Command Deck, Dylan consulted with Andromeda. "Okay, I'll authorize taking the sector coordinator from midship, port-side, but are you sure about rerouting cybernetic communications for the cargo and landing bays?"
"Yes. Also, we can get a few of the things we need at Hockenteil drift."
"Ferrar was killed by the Ogami."
"Yes, but the blackmarket lives on. Scuttlebutt has it that his territory was taken over by a Nightsider."
Dylan half-laughed. "Not our old friend Gerentex I hope."
"No. But we probably won't be able to tell the difference."
"Yeah, I guess not. Okay, then. Beka? Lay in a course for Hockenteil Drift."
"At your command, my liege." Beka operated the controls and Andromeda Ascendant came about. "Slipstream portal in seventeen minutes."
In the walls of the gymnasium Harper said to Rommie, "This isn't exactly a priority item. This type of scanner is a passive system. What do we need this for?"
"While it is true that this is a low level system it did have a large part to play in monitoring Tyr's activities and the suit responses. We should be able to get some kind of feedback from the nanobot transmissions."
"Okay, well, give me a hand with this door first, will you?"
She joined Harper, grabbing the edge of the door with both hands and pulling, then shifting to one hand and leaning backwards, straining to get it moving. Finally she reached out and grabbed a corner of the wall and attempted to pull herself and the door. There was a groan from metal undergoing terrific stress.
"No good," Harper said, panting. "I don't get it. I've cut the door free from the bulkhead."
"The tracks must be warped from thermal expansion. I don't think we'll be able to get this door open without rescue equipment. And that just doesn't have as high a priority as communicating with Tyr and shutting down the suit."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Okay, then, let's get these components installed." Several moments later Rommie attached the power cable to the newly installed passive sensors.
"Andromeda? You should be able to receive signals from the suit now."
On the Command Deck Dylan blinked in disbelief. "Tyr is doing what?"
"According to the signals from both his and the suit nanobots that I've deciphered, Tyr is morphing. Not his real self, but the self he perceives himself to be in the immersive environment. The suit appears to be attempting to conform more closely to Tyr's self-image as an engine of destruction."
Beka looked up. "Is that a bad thing?"
"I think so. As near as I can tell his bone spurs are enlarged and sharper; more deadly. He is even more muscular and his skin is more leathery; tougher. His feet are wider as well. There also seems to be the beginning of some kind of webbing along the inside of his arms and attached to his torso down the ribcage."
"Your kidding. So, he's changing into . . . what? Some kind of killer bat?"
"I don't think that will make much difference since it can have no impact on his physiognomy. It's the psychological effects I'm worried about. If he sees himself that way he's not likely to be satisfied with playing hide and seek much longer. There's also no telling in what psychological condition he will be in by the time we finally get into the gymnasium. My avatar reports that they can't get the door open because the tracks are warped from the heat."
Dylan blew out his cheeks. "Gee, isn't this just a barrel of fun? If it's not one thing it's one thing after another. Did you tell him what is happening?"
"Yes. He was very skeptical about it, however. Moreover, he seemed to find it rather interesting. I fear I might have simply exacerbated things by subtly encouraging him to attack the enemy so he can test this new . . . 'form'."
In the gymnasium, Tyr was indeed reacting to the presence of hostile targets. The urge to attack was an almost palpable itch, but he ducked into some bushes, around a large rock, and then scooted silently down the trail to successfully evade the group hunting him. This time.
Inside the walls, Harper and Rommie coupled a power cable to the energy grid. The ship then sent a test pulse through the cable. Several dozen meters up the corridor, in an energy routing substation, several breakers experienced a sudden power surge and snapped open, just avoiding a major overload.
"Great, now what?" Harper whined.
"There is some kind of short circuit. This power line seems to be grounded directly to the superstructure."
"Okay, then let's just bypass this particular line altogether and plug in a few extra couplings to the lines that aren't damaged. We won't overload the system doing that, will we?"
"No. As long as we don't draw more energy than those lines are rated for, which isn't likely since those lines are rated for three hundred amperes."
In the gymnasium, Tyr froze, then suddenly spun, whipping his arm around, bone spurs in full extension. The "modified" spurs sliced through the throat and neck of the hostile that had snuck up on him, decapitating the simulacrum, but the corpse twitched as it fell backward, firing a burst from its weapon. Tyr gaped, completely surprised by the results of the swing, feeling only peripherally the tingling in his leg from the near miss of the weapon-fire. Then he snarled in triumph, but a moment later spun around at the sound of the stealthy approach of four other hostiles. Rather than attempt to evade them he gave in to the euphoria of the kill and moved to outflank the approaching group so he could take them from behind.
In the immersive environment, an outsider watching would have heard shouting and the sound of weapon-fire, and the crashing of underbrush and branches. This would have been followed by several moments of silence. Tyr, his bloodlust slated and his curiosity aroused, was well hidden. He watched the bodies left in the wake of his attack. He listened carefully, sorting through the sound of birdcalls, running water, and myriad small animals moving through the rainforest. Then he detected the rustle of clothing, the crunch of forest-floor litter beneath the sole of a combat boot, the scent of perspiration and gun oil.
Before the second group arrived however, the bodies of the dead seemed to reanimate; they disappeared and were replaced by simulacra of their pre-battle selves. Tyr recognized their positions and stances as those immediately before he had launched himself at them. The simulacra peered around as if searching for him, but then a few seconds later brought up their weapons to challenge the arriving group. After a brief moment of consultation, the two groups joined forces and moved off down the trail.
Tyr lay where he was for many long moments. The import of what he had seen driving home to him his peril in a way that Andromeda's words had not.
"Dylan? I'm getting more telemetry from the suit nanobots and it doesn't look good. Tyr had another confrontation and there are now ten more enemy soldiers hunting him. One of the respawned groups has joined with another scouting group."
"Not good. Why doesn't that lunkhead learn to keep his head down?"
"He seems to have. He is holding position at the moment; has been for over a minute. His virtual physiognomy is still morphing, however. I'm not sure if that is good or bad."
"What does it look like right now?"
"He seems to be growing dew-claws."
Beka looked at screen. "Dew-claws? You're kidding, right? One minute to slipstream."
"No, I'm afraid not."
"And what pray tell are dew-claws? Perhaps one of you would be kind enough to fill me in?"
"Oh -- dew-claws. Well, . . . they're kind of bonespurs found on some species of bird, but on the back of the heel. Often venomous."
"You mean he's growing bonespurs on his ankles to match the ones on his forearms?"
"It sure looks that way," Andromeda replied. "I think his teeth are becoming elongated and pointier as well."
"Oh, great," Beka said. "Just what we need. Tyr Anasazi as a Nietzschean vampire. Thirty seconds."
In the walls of the gymnasium Harper and Rommie consulted. "We don't need to rebuild everything right freaking now. Racks and storage can wait, just as long as we get these components hooked together and operational."
"It looks awfully sloppy and unprofessional to just have everything strewn around like this, though. I mean . . . well, I already feel . . . grubby. And I don't like it. I am a warship you know and I've got my pride. Not to mention that as the flagship of the Old Commonwealth I also have standards to uphold."
"Yeah, yeah, I know, and believe me I'd like nothing better than to have you completely refitted to match the ravishing beauty who strutted onto the command deck while we were facing our execution at GS92196. But this is emergency repair. Nothing fancy, just get things working. And don't care too much about 'how' as long as you get it done without making things worse. Touch ups and cosmetic work can wait until -- "
He was interrupted by the sound of Beka's voice being transmitted shipwide. "Attention! All personnel. Slipstream in five, . . . four, . . . three, . . . two, . . . "
At the call, Harper and Rommie grabbed some of the jury rigged components to keep them from sliding around during the turbulence of transition.
"You see? This is the sort of thing that I'm worried about. What about if we are attacked before this repair job can be completed? We'd just have to start all over again."
"Okay, okay, I get your point, but I'm not going to leave this stuff like this. I'll tack each part down to the floor with soluble adhesive, then when I get the time I'll build the racks and storage shelves in the machine shop with spare parts. Okay, let's juice the system and see what we've got."
In the gymnasium, Tyr gave a mighty leap, using the suit exoskeleton to propel himself through the air in a long glide. He didn't really stop to think about how impossible it was for him to do it in the real world, he simply spread his arms and glided on the membranes that had grown onto them. To an outside observer it would have appeared as if a giant, humanoid bat had flown by. It looked that way very much to the Nietzschean hostiles who saw him as well. They began to track this barely glimpsed creature to do a threat assessment.
"You experienced variable A-G fields in the gymnasium? How?"
"Harper and my avatar had activated a data link with the suit and the suit used the link to create conditions necessary for the immersive environment. Tyr -- flew."
"This is getting worse and worse, isn't it?"
"Yes. If my interpretation of the data is correct it indicates a psychological submergence into this virtual reality. It might prove difficult to bring Tyr out of it. On the up side, I now have full control of all environmental systems in that quandrant of the ship. Back on the down side, I still have no control over the suit. It is not responding to commands to terminate or suspend programming, and the necessary components to recreate the systems for full self-control are not available. Tyr is also no longer responding to my attempts to communicate. He appears to be oblivious to attempts with the rafter lasers to attract his attention."
Harper gaped. "Okay! Okay, that's it! I am now officially ticked off! Give my laser torch. I'm cutting open that lousy door and this time it is not going to stand in my way."
Dylan's voice asked, "How long will that take you?"
"Ten minutes, tops!"
Dylan looked at the screen image of Andromeda. "How much worse is it likely to get in ten minutes?"
"Much worse. Tyr -- or the creature he has become in the immersive environment -- has just slaughtered a hunting party intent on capturing him, and it respawned just as the others had done. There are now sixty enemy soldiers in the area and the groups are increasingly amalgamating into larger tactical groups. Spontaneously. I anticipate that with one more confrontation these groups will be suborned into a single battle group under the command of an individual who will coordinate their efforts from a central location."
Harper walked quickly back out into the corridor, moving toward the gymnasium door. "Listen, Rommie, I need you to get something for me from Machine Shop 17. In the workshop, on the third set of shelves, the locked cabinets, actually, I need you get the box-like contraption with the handle on the top. It's easy to recognize 'cause it's got that 'Caution: danger' striping on it. You've got to bring it here."
"Sure, but, . . . what is it?"
"Uh, . . . well, . . . it's kind of . . . you know, . . . a narrow-beam Meissner Effect Impulse generator."
Rommie's eyes opened wide. "What are you doing with one of those? That could kill me!"
"Yeah, but it's not meant for you! It's in case we ever have to deal with a bunch of renegade avatars like we had to on Pax Magellanic." He looked at Rommie as if expecting the worst and afraid to get it. "Just be careful with it, that's all. It's deactivated, just don't punch any of the buttons."
Rommie acquiesced, seeming to do so against her better judgement. "Okay, but I sure hope I don't drop it." She turned and headed off up the corridor while Harper lowered his eyepieces and warmed up the cutter.
On Command Deck, Dylan shook his head. "Your avatar is getting a what?"
"A narrow-beam Meissner Effect Impulse generator. Harper built it after our run in with the crew of avatars on the Pax Magellanic. I certainly don't like having one inboard, but it'll totally wipe out the suit software and overload the circuitry. I don't think he has any option but to use it to be honest. The way Tyr is going he won't end the simulation voluntarily. In fact he's stalking another scouting group right now."
In the immersive environment, a fluid, dark-hued shape flowed over a large rock, then under a bush. It moved fairly quickly, but made less noise than the group of five hostiles it was after. The point man suddenly stopped, crouched down, and raised a fist to indicate visual contact with some kind of anomaly. Ahead, he could see what appeared to be a man. He moved forward cautiously to find a full set of clothing stuffed with branches and propped up as if it were a person resting. He signaled the other four to move up and peered around into the nearby plant life. There was a sudden explosion of movement and the simulacrum fell back, startled, and then "died" as the something wrenched its head around to face over its back.
Weapon-fire lanced through the space a fraction of second after Tyr ducked back down out of sight. The group of four looked around nervously, trying to spot the huge, batwinged, demon-thing that had killed their companion. Then suddenly it was among them from behind, and another hostile fell inert, his heart and lungs punctured by bonespurs. A third hostile went flying backwards from a palm-strike to the nose; dieing as shards from his shattered nasal bones cut through his brain. The remaining two hostiles began firing wildly, and one got off two shots before his right hand was amputated and his weapon fell to the ground. He instinctively ducked a roundhouse kick, but the dew-claw sliced open the side of his neck anyway.
The last hostile got off three more shots before a sword-hand strike broke the xyphoid process off the sternum and drove it upwards into the heart.
The demon-thing held the follow through for a couple of seconds, growling in rage as Tyr was wont to do at a pestilent nuisance he had just thoroughly destroyed. But then he grabbed his leg. Blood -- simulated blood -- flowed between his fingers and down the leathery skin of the thigh.
In the real world, Tyr grasped his thigh through the suit as the pain of the injury shot up and down his leg. He hobbled across the floor. Moments later, in the virtual reality of the software, the killed simulacra of the group respawned. One of them saw the blood, and the group moved to follow it. Moments after that, a new group of hostiles appeared, saw the blood spoor on the forest floor, and moved to trail it. Before they got very far, however, they hesitated, acknowledged their location to Battle Group Command, and reported that the quarry was injured and they were in pursuit of him. They were advised that another group was already tracking the target and ordered to link up with it. Around the rain forest environment, other scouting groups were ordered to alter their search patterns to intercept the intruder.
Tyr the Demon-thing limped painfully through the forest. He turned his head to left and right, smelled the breeze, then growled in anger. The enemy had him surrounded and their movements spoke of much better coordination than before. Also, there was now at least a platoon of hunters. "Well," thought Tyr. "If they're going to take me down it's going to cost them." He faded into the underbrush and began to hunt the hunters. The suit helmet used white noise to block out the sound of the gymnasium doors melting and being cut from Harper's torch.
Tyr the Demon-thing dragged his subdued captive through the bush. The hostile had been tied up with his own jacket. He added the prisoner to the three others hidden in a small clearing within some dense brush, then went after another one. He had moved from one scouting group to another so the enemy would not anticipate him and to sow as much uncertainty and apprehension as he could; he wanted each of the hostiles to worry about whether he'd be next or not, but he also knew that the searchers might find his captives and free them. He had decided that this was the best offensive, however. Take out as many as he could without spawning more hostiles and draw the rest into a large single group in a small area where he would fall upon them if he had to but where they were more likely to shoot each other.
Unfortunately, the software had other plans.
Tyr spotted a small group, only three hunters, who appeared to be confused. He decided that they had been seperated from their non-com and were out of contact with the Battle Group. They moved hesitantly down the trail, and he followed, closing the distance. Just when he was ready to jump them the noise of several hostiles came from the bushes around him and the three he was following spun about, bringing up their weapons. A voice called, "We want him for interrogation so don't kill him unless you have to, but take him!"
At that moment, there came the sound of a clanging rumble; more like an earthquake than thunder. The simulacra ignored it and Tyr had no time to be distracted.
"Okay, Angel-face, I've set it up now all you have to do is knock it down." Rommie straight-armed the center of the door and the cut section fell into the gymnasium, making an incredible "WHANGG!" when it hit the floor.
Harper and Rommie looked through the door to see Tyr looking left, then right, and then launch a flurry of kicks and blows that appeared as if they would have been painful to anything they hit. Rommie said, "Andromeda tells me that the enemy has him surrounded and is trying to take him. She also says that he is psychologically submerged in the simulation. Bringing him out of it could be dangerous."
"No problemo. Once I kill the suit circuitry he'll have nothing left to do except take off the helmet."
"Perhaps I should do that. I'm much less susceptible to injury than you are."
"Uh-ugh! Not a chance, Angel-face. I'm not letting you trigger this baby. Not even from behind. Besides, Tyr likes me. He wouldn't do anything to hurt me. Just do me a favour and move a few meters up the corridor will you? Just to make sure."
Rommie thought for a second, then said, "Very well," and moved away from the gymnasium door. Harper went inside.
Tyr continued to dance madly. In the immersive environment, his movements were translated into a wild dervish of destruction and mayhem. Eight of the thirty hostiles were already down, none of them fatally but definitely out for the count, and as Harper moved in closer, waiting for an opportunity to kill the suit without hurting Tyr, the warrior rapped the skulls of two other soldiers together.
As they went down, the rest of the ambush moved back a bit, then the officer-in-charge said, "Weapons up! Kill him where he stands! Fire!"
Tyr moved to launch himself at the officer but was seized by a sudden paralysis. This was quickly followed by convulsions, and then the scene in the viewfield broke up into static and disappeared, leaving only the mid-level light of the gymnasium he had seen before the suit was activated. He heard a muffled voice calling, "Tyr! Yo, Tyr! Can you hear me? Are you okay?" He turned toward the source, seeing a shadow, then realized that it was Harper. In a blind fury he tore at the neck-seals on the helmet.
Harper watched Tyr closely, trying to make up his mind to run as the Nietzschean ripped the helmet off his head and threw it aside. It rattled its way twenty-five meters across the gym floor before coming to a spinning stop, but even before it did Tyr had grabbed Harper by his jacket and hoisted him up in the air, shaking him in a paroxysm of fury.
"Why did you stop it?!" he thundered. "Why did you do that?! I was strong! I was powerful! I was mighty! And my enemies fell before me as the wheat before the harvester! Do you have any idea what I had become?!"
"Uh, yeah, but you're the Tyr we know and all love to fear; that other thing was, . . . uh, some kind of alien freakazoid! It wasn't you, Tyr."
Tyr lowered the smaller man until his face was inches from his own, then snarled, "But I was having fun." He glared at Harper, twisting his head as if he was thinking of twisting Harper's the same way. Then he said in a more reasonable tone of voice, slowly getting his anger under control, "But I guess play time is over now."
"Well, yeah; now it's time to get back to reality. That's a good philosophy."
Harper's knees buckled as Tyr set him heavily down on the floor. "So, what happened anyway?"
"Uh, well, you see," Harper answered, looking at Tyr hopefully, "we didn't properly calculate the stresses and you were just so magnificent that you blew out all the remote support systems inside the wall. Caused a total meltdown. I can show you the damage if you like."
Tyr stared back at him for a moment. "You're sucking up to me, aren't you?"
"Well, yeah, just a little. Is it working?"
Tyr shrugged. "Sure. Just a little."
"Great! So, uh, why not bring the suit to Machine Shop 17 and I'll crack us a couple of 300 hundred year old Weisbrau while you take it off so I can start looking at it?"
Tyr shrugged. "Sure. Why not?" He put an arm around Harper's shoulders and they started toward the doors. "So; tell me again how magnificent I was."
"Oh, yeah! Andromeda says that thing you became is your image of yourself. You know; a glorious avenging angel swooping down on your enemies to lay them low in crushing defeat underneath your heels; less than the dust on your sandals."
"Hmm; yes, that sounds like me."
The lights went out after they passed through the burned open door and the implacable darkness returned. The sound of their voices from the corridor slowly diminished and then the silence set in again as well.
Rating: PG; due to graphic descriptions of violence
Spoiler Alert/Tie ins: To Loose The Fateful Lightning; Lava And Rockets; Ourobourus
Believe me! The secret of reaping the greatest fruitfulness and the greatest enjoyment from life is to live it dangerously. --Fredrich Nietzsche, Die Froliche Wissenschaft, IV, 283
Children's Hour
Darkness. And silence.
Implacable. Imponderable.
All encompassing.
Both so deep that one would be lost within them.
Then a blaze of light as ceiling lamps came on.
Blast doors hissed open to break the silence. That noise was followed in short order by a cheerful voice. "And voila! Here we are. Starboard gymnasium, upper decks; and you thought I didn't know where I was going. You owe me a Sparky Cola."
"See," Trance said, smiling. "I told you he wouldn't get lost this time."
Harper led the way into the cavernous space, a room so large that his voice didn't even echo. Neither did Tyr's when he answered, "I hardly see how even he could have gotten lost when we have Andromeda's Avatar with us to lead the way."
"Geez, it's always nice to hear that bright and shining optimism of yours, Tyr. I remind you, however, that Rommie is with us right now because of her special talents in the field of cybernetics. Not because us geniuses tend to not pay attention to niceties such as which corridor goes where."
"Be that as it may, Harper," Rommie replied, "I don't understand why you didn't ask me where you were yesterday after half an hour of wandering unfamiliar corridors."
"Ah, . . . well, it's a Harper thing. My own father was well known for once not asking which way to take to get out of a public square that had only two ways into it. The important thing here is that the cobbling together of this suit all took place in Machine Shop 17. All you have to do, Tyr, is put it on." He took the suit in question from the arms of the droid that was carrying it and draped it over Tyr's shoulder. He huffed a bit trying to sling it that high but got it up on the first attempt. Tyr shrugged it into a more comfortable position as Harper turned to the android. "Thank you, just put them down here," he said, pointing to the floor.
"I am still not certain that I wish to partake of this 'experiment'."
"Oh, come on, big guy, you know we need you to do this. Who else do we have on board with the necessary qualifications? The whole point of the suit is that it works directly with implanted Neitzschean nanobots to create an immersive virtual environment in which Neitzscheans can exercise or train for combat without leaving the comfort of their ship." He opened the first case and handed up, one at a time, four rolls of cabling to Rommie. Each roll had a squarish connector at both ends, suggesting that each was some kind of ribbon cable. Then he handed four squarish objects to Trance.
"If you would be kind enough to lay out the positioning grid, Angel-face?"
"Why, Harper, that's the nicest thing you've called me in several months."
Harper paused, then said, "You're welcome, Trance, but actually I was talking to my first Angel-face."
"What's that ribbon cable for, anyway?"
"Well, my other Angel-face, that is not really a ribbon cable. It is a self-centering, fiber optic laser belt. These things I've given you are the control and power units. One of these control and power units goes into each corner. Those belts Rommie is holding run between the P&C units and each fiber optic filament shines out through the side of the belt to be picked up by the belt across the room. With all four walls encompassed it will create a grid across the floor that will deterimine the exact position of an object, like say Mister Mountain Man's feet here, to within a micrometer. That information will be fed into the chief microprocessor in the suit and used to redraw the virtual environment in the user viewfield. So, for instance, say tall and gruesome here is chasing down something that is losing a fight and doesn't want to and it runs close to a geothermal vent. As he runs after it, the chief microprocessor will have the suit air conditioning unit heat up on the side of the vent and remain cool on the other side. If it turns around and bites Tyr, the suit will send a message directly to his nanobots to activate the pain nerves on his body where he would have been bitten for real.
"So, hoopla! -- all the danger and thrills without any of the fuss and muss of mopping up buckets of blood afterward."
Tyr cleared the braids covering his face. "I still don't see why you can't try it out with a lesser warrior. We do have allies, you know."
"Ah, yeah, but since none of them really measure up to your high standards you'd probably just kill them and create a nasty diplomatic incident."
Tyr thought for a second, then shrugged. "Point taken."
"Besides, everything on this baby has been thoroughly bench-tested and checked out by yours truly and by Andromeda Ascendent her very own self and she has assured me that the components are robust enough that even you can't break anything unless you make a specific effort to do so. Believe me, big guy, there is absolutely nothing that can possibly go wrong."
Listening in as she and Rommie headed for one of the corners, Trance raised her eyebrows and smiled grimly.
By the time Tyr had put the suit on and Harper had added the additional components from the second case Rommie and Trance had finished placing the P&C units and laying out the laser belt. "Okay, kiddies, all we have to do now is get out of the way and let Tyr strut his magnificent stuff, and since this exercise is to test the suit under extreme conditions I don't think any of us want to be in the way when he encounters a group of hostiles he is going to have to exterminate with extreme prejudice. Geez! -- I love that rhetoric! Who comes up with stuff like that, anyway?"
Rommie passed a hand over the suit and attached units, while she answered him. "Mostly governments that don't want to be seen soiling their hands with dirty work."
"Or," Trance added, "petty dictators that want to justify their actions with any handy rationale."
"Yeah, yeah, okay, I was only speaking rhetorically. I mean as in asking a rhetorical question? Are you people trying to confuse me, or what?"
Tyr answered, "Shouldn't take much."
"Oh, ha-ha. This is the thanks I get for trying to make life easier for Nietzscheans both of us would just rather kill."
"Well, Harper," Trance said, "you know that not all Nietzscheans should be killed, and if it comes to that, I don't think any of us want to have a bunch of allied Nietzscheans come back from a several month long voyage without any rest and recreation and start shooting at us."
Harper just made a face showing that he couldn't counter the argument but that he didn't want to accept it. Rommie said, "My scan shows that all the circuitry is nominal. We are ready to begin live testing the suit."
Tyr put on the helmet and Trance helped with closing the neck seals. He asked, "Is there any place in particular that I should be standing to start the test?"
"Not at all," Harper replied. "The cybernetics will plot your position in relation to the environment it will recreate. The earphones will handle sounds just as if you were hearing them in a real world environment and the same thing for smells; which is why we have to have an enclosed helmet. As well as for altering life support conditions for heat and cold weather. You'll even be able to feel rain drops falling on you by directing your nanobots to stimulate the appropriate nerves."
Rommie continued, "For the purpose of this exercise, the gymnasium, which is thirty by thirty meters, has been divided into eight primary sections. In the virtual environment, these sections will be differentiated by footpaths, two of which will basically run diagonally from corner to corner, and two others which will bisect the gymnasium into quarters. They all meet at the center, of course. There is also a footpath that runs around the perimeter of the room. Total length of the main paths is three hundred fifty meters.
"Each triangular section will also have areas within it hidden by vegetation and accessible by other footpaths. Less well defined paths. I believe the term for these is game trails. Each section contains one hundred twelve point five square meters of terrain.
"For the purpose of this exercise you will be restricted to a thirty by thirty area. Once we are certain the suit passes muster we'll execute an add-on subroutine allowing the subject to go beyond those boundaries by having the main system load new areas into the suit systems.
"I would also like to draw your attention to the exoskeleton mechanics of the suit. If you try to walk through an object the system paints as solid, say a tree, the knee joints will lock up at the point where you would contact the tree, or the elbow joints if you try to punch it. This allows the subject or user to experience full positive feedback and maintains the verisimilitude of the simulation. These mechanics will act much the same way if you punch an assailant so the impact of the strike will feel as if you had in fact punched someone."
"Really? Well then, perhaps this will prove to be more fun that I thought it would. Am I able to select the assailants whom I will be confronting? Say, Chuchulain or Charlemagne?"
"Oh? . . . Well, no. We didn't think about that. I'll include that item at the top of the list for upgrades, though."
"Thank you. So, now what?"
"We leave and the simulation will begin as soon as the door closes," she said, and began walking to the door.
"Good luck," Trance said, and followed her.
"Uh, yeah, good luck, although I've got the feeling that whatever you confront is going to need it a lot more. Just remember, you can feel pain and the suit will react to any injuries you receive the way it will if you try to walk through any trees. Lose an arm and that sleeve of the suit will lock up and your nanobots will be directed to make that arm numb. But, uh, the good news is that you won't actually die if they get in a lucky shot and kill you in the immersive environment."
"It is gratifying to know that."
"I'm sure it is, and now, I'm out'a here. Let the games begin." Harper headed for the door as well.
Tyr stood patiently, watching the bare walls of the gymnasium through the helmet visor. Suddenly, the mid-level light of the gymnasium was replaced with nearly blinding sunlight and the dense foliage of a rain forest appeared around him. He spun, and the scenery spun as well. He looked at himself and saw himself as he was usually equipped for action. Chainmail, knife, forcelance, sidearm, and not a sign of the suit he was wearing. One side of his face felt a burning and he looked in that direction to see the sun of this world shining down directly on him. "Most impressive."
An image of Andromeda appeared before him. "Why, thank you, Tyr. You have no idea how much time Trance and I spent on this programming."
"Are you a part of this exercise, Ship?"
"No, I am simply monitoring the communications link in the helmet. This entire session is being recorded and any comments you make on the functioning of the hardware and software will also be recorded, of course, for assessing the results. I can appear before you by simply projecting this image into the suit systems, but the suit will not recognize me as a solid object."
At the mention of solid objects Tyr looked at a large rock next to the path he was on. He kicked at it firmly, and true to Rommie's warning it felt as if he had kicked the side of a mountain. "Fascinating," he muttered. "If I didn't know I was in the gymnasium I would swear I was on the surface of a planet. I can hear at least fourteen different bird calls and the sounds of numerous animals moving in the brush. As well as a waterfall. I can also smell the spoor of at least three different species of animals and the water from the river. Not to mention a great deal of flowering plant life. Most impressive, indeed." The Andromeda hologram looked very pleased.
Tyr spun lithely at the sound of a sudden explosion of wings from some fifteen meters away. He faced that direction in a shooter's crouch, the muzzle of his sidearm held steadily, parallel to the ground. The image of Andromeda remained directly in front of him, but his weapon appeared to be aiming beyond her.
Tyr tried to move his head to look around the image, but it stayed dead center. It took him a moment to realize the futility of what he was doing. He listened carefully for a few seconds, then made up his mind. "Well, since I'm supposed to explore this environment I suppose this is as good a time as any to start and that is as good a direction as any in which to go." He moved along the footpath and the image of Andromeda faded out.
For all his care, Tyr moved quickly, covering a surprising distance in a short time. From ahead, he could hear a gnawing sound from the other side of a small, flat-topped boulder. He decided to test the suit and bounded onto the top of the boulder. He felt the shock of the landing and the scenery seemed to jar a bit as it redrew to show a view from the top of the boulder. A sudden movement from a few meters away revealed a jaguar eating some animal Tyr didn't recognize. It snarled and hissed, then screamed in challenge.
"Pardon me," he said to it. "I know just how you feel, though. I hate to have my fine dining interrupted also." Then he jumped backwards off the rock. It was a powerful jump, meant to take him away from a creature he had nothing against and didn't want to fight, and he cleared a good two meters. His flight path took him straight across the path he had been following, however, and well into the underbrush. Including through a tree that was supposed to be a solid object. Andromeda reappeared.
"Hey, I saw that."
"It's not supposed to be possible. How did it happen?"
"You jumped. The suit mechanics can keep you from walking through things, but we cannot abrogate the laws of physics. Once you jump in a direction you keep going in that direction until you hit something that really is solid. We foresaw this glitch, but there isn't anything we can do about it, really."
"Shame. It is certainly anamolous enough to destroy the illusion entirely."
"Well, it's easy to correct for. Just keep your feet on the ground."
"Why not just have the exoskeletal mechanics take local terrain into account and not allow any jumps through solid objects."
Andromeda blinked at him. "Now why didn't Harper think of that? I've made a note of that suggestion for the upgrades. Those subroutines should be ready shortly, but I won't risk this test by attempting to upgrade on the fly." Tyr's head came up.
"I think I hear a party I wasn't invited to. And it's coming this way. If you'll excuse me, Ship."
"Go to it, Mountain Man."
Tyr reacted as if he had been momentarily stunned. "Please, in the name of all that is holy, do not allow your speech patterns to be influenced by Harper. One of him is more than enough." Andromeda smiled and then her image faded out. Tyr began stalking through the underbrush.
Inside one of Andromeda's many conduits, Harper removed an access panel and scanned a group of circuits. "Ah, Andromeda? I'm ready to start work on that plasma relay. You wanna shunt the particle flow for me?"
A hologram of Andromeda appeared next to him. "Certainly, Harper. Activating shunt to alternate conduit; opening valves; shutting valves to this conduit; flow is diverted; now venting residual plasma; and . . . done."
Between two of the upper decks, along the starboard side of the ship, a conduit underwent rapid thermal expansion as plasmized gas flowed into it at 2,500 degrees centigrade. Stresses introduced by the near passage and explosions of enemy munitions during combat suddenly underwent fulminating escalation. In a few seconds, a series of cracks developed around the area suffering materials fatigue and then the area failed. Plasma began venting through the blowout with all the power of a laser cutter. Fiber optic cables all but disintegrated, insulation burned off electrical cabling, and a section of the bulkhead began to glow red, then melt, then run like butter and the venting plasma jetted through the hole and into the cybernet nexus on the other side of the wall.
"Harper. We have a problem."
"Oh, great, what now? The Magog World Ship just pop out of slipstream?"
"No. That conduit I'm using as a shunt just blew out. I'm shutting off the flow, but I'm registering malfunctions in numerous systems. That conduit is under a lot of pressure and I can't open the vent valves so it will take a while for the pressure to drop -- AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHH! OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH! By the Divine! That hurts! Stop it! Stop it!"
"Andromeda! What is it? What's happening?"
"There's some kind of catastrophic failure in a cybernetic nexus near that conduit failure. The temperature is skyrocketing! I'm burning up!"
"Okay, okay! Take it easy, babe. You're gonna be all right!" He said to her, grabbing his tools. "I'm on my way there right now. I'll take care of it! Just don't -- uh! -- don't worry, okay? I know it hurts but it isn't like it's anywhere near your core. It's like, burning a finger or something, all right? Just disengage from that nexus and cut it out of the loop."
After a second the pain disappeared from her face. "Okay. Done."
"Great. There you go. See. Trust in the Harper. The Harper is good," he shouted back over his shoulder and he hurried off. "Why were you connected to that nexus, anyway?"
Her hologram appeared before him as scooted around a corner. "Because I was monitoring the test of the Immersive Virtual Environment suit. That nexus is right next to the Starboard Gymnasium. I must have gotten feedback filtered through the neuronal monitor subroutines for Tyr's nanobots."
Harper paused. "Oh, crap. Tyr? Is he okay?"
"Yes, I guess. The plamized gas is too far from the gymnasium wall to burn through into the gymnasium. We have another problem, however."
"Oh, great. Now what?"
"I've lost contact with Tyr. He's not responding to my efforts to communicate. Nor am I receiving telemetry from the suit."
"Oh, man," he complained, opening the conduit hatch. "Big and gruesome is going to eat me for lunch if anything's gone wrong with that suit."
On the bridge, Dylan and Trance conferred with another hologram of Andromeda. "So, that is strictly the recreational area? Gymnasium, theater? . . . "
"Yes, but there are other systems routed through that area. Life support for that quadrant of the ship, for instance. Not that that makes much difference without a crew to populate it. As I told Harper, the most serious problem is that I can no longer contact Tyr. Direct communications are out."
"Ah, is that like, really bad?" Trance asked. "I mean, he's in the gym and everything he sees is just a projection onto his eyeballs, right? There's nothing he can hurt himself against except the walls."
"Yes, but don't forget that whatever he is fighting can hurt him, and the subroutines to determine whether he has been killed or not were contained in that damaged nexus. Without access to those subroutines he might well be in mortal danger."
Trance understood before Dylan did. "Oh, geez, that is bad. Uh, . . . well, . . . what can you use to contact him? I mean, can you reprogram the suit to simply stop?"
Andromeda looked upwards as she consulted her cybernetic systems. "Not with the damage to the nexus. I cannot project an image of myself or transmit to the suit helmet. Repairs to the necessary systems will take several hours . . . " She pouted. "The bulkhead is jammed. We can't even send someone into the gymnasium to talk to him."
"Oh, well, isn't that just jim-dandy. Here I've got a crewman in mortal danger of his life in Neverland and no way to bring him out."
"Wait, wait! Do you have lasers or anything in the gym? Can't you read the vibrations of an object using a laser and translate the modulations back into sound?"
"Of course. It's one of the oldest intelligence gathering tricks around, and you have the lasers for the light shows for the end of game celebrations."
Andromeda pouted again. "Yes, but laser communications is line of sight. He would have to be looking up since the lasers are in the rafters. However," she said, looking pleased, "I have full access to them."
"Great!" Trance exulted. "Then you can do it! And you can scroll text messages across the viewfield of the helmet. And maybe you can work on a way to send voice messages by modulating the nanobots monitoring his hearing or something!"
Andromeda cocked an eyebrow. "An intriguing suggestion. I'll see if I can do that."
In the gymnasium, Tyr growled as he ripped his bonespurs out of his last opponent's chest. The eyes of the image rolled upwards and he gurgled in his throat as the pseudo-corpse fell to the ground. "Well, that was certainly a fun bit of exercise, Ship." He scanned his surroundings, looking closely and listening closely, then blinked in confusion. "Ship?"
Still no response. He peered around suspiciously again as the sneaking realization came to him that this silence from Andromeda heralded bad tidings. Unsure of the situation, he decided that the best course of action was to be a moving target rather than a sitting duck. He moved off cautiously, stalking his way down the trail. A few moments later he peered upward. He had the sense that something had flashed by, just outside his peripheral vision. Then a washed-out image of Andromeda appeared before him. Words in black appeared, scrolling along the top edge of his viewfield; against the sky.
_Tyr? I cannot communicate with you by voice. I can, however, read the sound of your voice from vibrations off the helmet faceplate._
"I thought something had happened when I called you and there was no answer. Has our genius-boy fouled up again?"
_No. This one is my fault. I opened a plasma shunt near the gymnasium and it blew out. The resulting jet cut through a bulkhead and critically damaged a cybernetic nexus. You are in danger and I am cut off from the suit._
"So, why is this a problem? What do I possibly have to fear from a few mirages?"
_As you know your body's nanobots can be programmed by the suit to activate specific nerve bundles to simulate pain, but there are subroutines that must be consulted first. Those subroutines were not loaded into the suit. They were in the logic boards of the nexus. Even if those logic boards survived, the subroutines cannot be consulted. What this means is that if you are stabbed through the heart or any vital organ, the suit will probably order your nanobots to shut down that organ. You can be killed by those mirages._
"Suppose I just take off the suit?"
_That won't be enough. We can't communicate with the suit to stop the program, so it will also keep transmitting to your nanobots. Also, the bulkhead is jammed, so you can't leave the gymnasium._
Tyr stared at the image of Andromeda for a moment, then said, "Well, I shall just have to take care that I do not allow an attacker inside my defenses, that is all."
_All right, then. In the meantime Harper is working on that nexus, but repairs to the few critical systems will take about four hours. I'll maintain surveillance with the lasers in the gymnasium rafters so anytime you want to talk to me just look up so I scan the helmet faceplate._
On the command deck Andromeda reported to Dylan. "Tyr has been apprised of the situation. He understands that an encounter can be fatal."
"Well, that's a relief. At least if he's going to go down it'll be fighting."
Trance asked, "Can't we do something by cutting off that positioning grid?"
"No," Andromeda answered. "It's self-contained. Also, I'm not sure what affect it would have, but I've made a note for future tests so we can find out."
Dylan called out, "Mr. Harper? Have you got anything yet? You might remember that Tyr didn't take kindly to just the idea that you were using him for a lab rat when you were building the tesseract device."
"Uh, yeah, boss, I haven't forgotten that, but things are really a mess down here. Burnt wiring, fiber-optics, memory units, some of the energy lines are still live, the air stinks and is probably toxic, and it's -- AH! Hot! Hot! Hot! -- " he shouted, pulling his hand back from the deck he had touched. "Ow! Ah, geez! -- " he shouted again, having banged his head on a stanchion.
"Harper?! You okay?"
"Yeah, yeah; I just burned a couple of layers of skin off a hand I'm going to need to fix things here and knocked my head against the wall. You have any idea how tough skinned our Rommie is?"
"Speaking of which, I think I better send her down to give you a hand." The avatar nodded to Dylan and headed for the corridor. "The sooner we can get Tyr out of there the better."
"Uh, yeah, well, about that, boss. I can see from where I'm standing that the power coupling for the door is cut right through and the door is welded to the frame by its own melted edge."
"Great. Well, do what you can. We'll continue to monitor the situation in the gymnasium. I guess we can always cut through the door as a last resort."
In the gymnasium, Tyr patiently stalked another group of Nietzscheans. From their dialogue he could tell they were hunting him. Or whomever or whatever had killed the other group. He was about to pounce on a straggler when a noise from up the trail attracted his attention. It sounded as if a second patrol was approaching. He melted back into the undergrowth. A few moments later he was surprised to see a group of familiar figures. He peered more closely and recognized them as the first group he had attacked. He watched, slightly confused and remaining hidden, as they moved past in a tactical formation. When they were gone from sight he stepped out onto the trail and looked upward.
"Ship? Are you listening?"
The washed out image of Andromeda reappeared. _Yes?_ He told her about the group of respawned opponents. _That can't be good. Give me a moment to confer with Trance._
On Command Deck, Trance looked worried. "A group he had encountered and killed was regenerated? But that's not supposed to happen. Oh, golly, I hope a parsing error didn't create a loop."
Beka asked, "That would be, like, really, really, bad?"
"Oh, yes. Oh, so very, very bad. It means that when he kills a group and the program generates a new group to replace it, it will also respawn the group he just killed. The suit will keep populating the simulation with more and more opponents in a progression instead of linearly."
Dylan grimaced. "That's just what we need. Eventually there'll be so many that even Tyr won't be able to take them all. And what if he kills only a few of them. Will individuals also respawn?"
"Uh, . . . I guess so. . . . "
In the gymnasium, Tyr gaped at the image of Andromeda. "Be careful to not kill anybody?"
_Killing an opponent will cause the program to generate a replacement, killing a group will generate a new group and respawn the one you killed. You'll basically be creating an army, although the groups are programmed to operate independently. However, they are also programmed to act realistically. If you attack and defeat one group, the noise of combat will attract any other nearby groups, and if they respawn together, they will form a single group as they would in a real tactical situation. And eventually they'll fill up all the available space within the positioning grid; leaving you no place to dodge or hide._
Tyr shrugged. "All right then, mission parameters are now escape and evasion. What progress is Harper making on the damage?"
_He and my avatar are working on repairs. Harper is using a torch to cut the bulkhead free from the wall. Rommie is ripping out damaged components.
Apparently with her bare hands.
And she seems to be enjoying herself. . . . _
Inside the gymnasium walls Rommie looked forlornly at the wreckage. "This is really a mess. I've got some androids heading this way with power couplings, energy lines, and fiber optic cables, but these more complex components we don't keep in stock. I'm going to have to cannabilize some lesser used systems."
"Again? Dylan ain't gonna like that. Even with the new Commonwealth we still have a hard time getting parts. Not to mention that most of them are three hundred years out of date and nobody thought to make current technology retro-compatible."
"It can't be helped, Harper. The Artisan Guild in the Trade Federation is building components, but it's as if they have to build prototypes. They won't be able to start making complex components to order for another couple of months."
"Yeah, I know, except it seems that we always need the stuff right now."
"Well, we do. And my ship-self tells me that Tyr is practicing escape and evasion, but that doesn't sound like Tyr. I don't know how long he's going to hide and run before he starts toying with the enemy just to see what happens."
"Yeah, well, can you give me an estimate on what we can replace now?"
On Command Deck, Dylan consulted with Andromeda. "Okay, I'll authorize taking the sector coordinator from midship, port-side, but are you sure about rerouting cybernetic communications for the cargo and landing bays?"
"Yes. Also, we can get a few of the things we need at Hockenteil drift."
"Ferrar was killed by the Ogami."
"Yes, but the blackmarket lives on. Scuttlebutt has it that his territory was taken over by a Nightsider."
Dylan half-laughed. "Not our old friend Gerentex I hope."
"No. But we probably won't be able to tell the difference."
"Yeah, I guess not. Okay, then. Beka? Lay in a course for Hockenteil Drift."
"At your command, my liege." Beka operated the controls and Andromeda Ascendant came about. "Slipstream portal in seventeen minutes."
In the walls of the gymnasium Harper said to Rommie, "This isn't exactly a priority item. This type of scanner is a passive system. What do we need this for?"
"While it is true that this is a low level system it did have a large part to play in monitoring Tyr's activities and the suit responses. We should be able to get some kind of feedback from the nanobot transmissions."
"Okay, well, give me a hand with this door first, will you?"
She joined Harper, grabbing the edge of the door with both hands and pulling, then shifting to one hand and leaning backwards, straining to get it moving. Finally she reached out and grabbed a corner of the wall and attempted to pull herself and the door. There was a groan from metal undergoing terrific stress.
"No good," Harper said, panting. "I don't get it. I've cut the door free from the bulkhead."
"The tracks must be warped from thermal expansion. I don't think we'll be able to get this door open without rescue equipment. And that just doesn't have as high a priority as communicating with Tyr and shutting down the suit."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Okay, then, let's get these components installed." Several moments later Rommie attached the power cable to the newly installed passive sensors.
"Andromeda? You should be able to receive signals from the suit now."
On the Command Deck Dylan blinked in disbelief. "Tyr is doing what?"
"According to the signals from both his and the suit nanobots that I've deciphered, Tyr is morphing. Not his real self, but the self he perceives himself to be in the immersive environment. The suit appears to be attempting to conform more closely to Tyr's self-image as an engine of destruction."
Beka looked up. "Is that a bad thing?"
"I think so. As near as I can tell his bone spurs are enlarged and sharper; more deadly. He is even more muscular and his skin is more leathery; tougher. His feet are wider as well. There also seems to be the beginning of some kind of webbing along the inside of his arms and attached to his torso down the ribcage."
"Your kidding. So, he's changing into . . . what? Some kind of killer bat?"
"I don't think that will make much difference since it can have no impact on his physiognomy. It's the psychological effects I'm worried about. If he sees himself that way he's not likely to be satisfied with playing hide and seek much longer. There's also no telling in what psychological condition he will be in by the time we finally get into the gymnasium. My avatar reports that they can't get the door open because the tracks are warped from the heat."
Dylan blew out his cheeks. "Gee, isn't this just a barrel of fun? If it's not one thing it's one thing after another. Did you tell him what is happening?"
"Yes. He was very skeptical about it, however. Moreover, he seemed to find it rather interesting. I fear I might have simply exacerbated things by subtly encouraging him to attack the enemy so he can test this new . . . 'form'."
In the gymnasium, Tyr was indeed reacting to the presence of hostile targets. The urge to attack was an almost palpable itch, but he ducked into some bushes, around a large rock, and then scooted silently down the trail to successfully evade the group hunting him. This time.
Inside the walls, Harper and Rommie coupled a power cable to the energy grid. The ship then sent a test pulse through the cable. Several dozen meters up the corridor, in an energy routing substation, several breakers experienced a sudden power surge and snapped open, just avoiding a major overload.
"Great, now what?" Harper whined.
"There is some kind of short circuit. This power line seems to be grounded directly to the superstructure."
"Okay, then let's just bypass this particular line altogether and plug in a few extra couplings to the lines that aren't damaged. We won't overload the system doing that, will we?"
"No. As long as we don't draw more energy than those lines are rated for, which isn't likely since those lines are rated for three hundred amperes."
In the gymnasium, Tyr froze, then suddenly spun, whipping his arm around, bone spurs in full extension. The "modified" spurs sliced through the throat and neck of the hostile that had snuck up on him, decapitating the simulacrum, but the corpse twitched as it fell backward, firing a burst from its weapon. Tyr gaped, completely surprised by the results of the swing, feeling only peripherally the tingling in his leg from the near miss of the weapon-fire. Then he snarled in triumph, but a moment later spun around at the sound of the stealthy approach of four other hostiles. Rather than attempt to evade them he gave in to the euphoria of the kill and moved to outflank the approaching group so he could take them from behind.
In the immersive environment, an outsider watching would have heard shouting and the sound of weapon-fire, and the crashing of underbrush and branches. This would have been followed by several moments of silence. Tyr, his bloodlust slated and his curiosity aroused, was well hidden. He watched the bodies left in the wake of his attack. He listened carefully, sorting through the sound of birdcalls, running water, and myriad small animals moving through the rainforest. Then he detected the rustle of clothing, the crunch of forest-floor litter beneath the sole of a combat boot, the scent of perspiration and gun oil.
Before the second group arrived however, the bodies of the dead seemed to reanimate; they disappeared and were replaced by simulacra of their pre-battle selves. Tyr recognized their positions and stances as those immediately before he had launched himself at them. The simulacra peered around as if searching for him, but then a few seconds later brought up their weapons to challenge the arriving group. After a brief moment of consultation, the two groups joined forces and moved off down the trail.
Tyr lay where he was for many long moments. The import of what he had seen driving home to him his peril in a way that Andromeda's words had not.
"Dylan? I'm getting more telemetry from the suit nanobots and it doesn't look good. Tyr had another confrontation and there are now ten more enemy soldiers hunting him. One of the respawned groups has joined with another scouting group."
"Not good. Why doesn't that lunkhead learn to keep his head down?"
"He seems to have. He is holding position at the moment; has been for over a minute. His virtual physiognomy is still morphing, however. I'm not sure if that is good or bad."
"What does it look like right now?"
"He seems to be growing dew-claws."
Beka looked at screen. "Dew-claws? You're kidding, right? One minute to slipstream."
"No, I'm afraid not."
"And what pray tell are dew-claws? Perhaps one of you would be kind enough to fill me in?"
"Oh -- dew-claws. Well, . . . they're kind of bonespurs found on some species of bird, but on the back of the heel. Often venomous."
"You mean he's growing bonespurs on his ankles to match the ones on his forearms?"
"It sure looks that way," Andromeda replied. "I think his teeth are becoming elongated and pointier as well."
"Oh, great," Beka said. "Just what we need. Tyr Anasazi as a Nietzschean vampire. Thirty seconds."
In the walls of the gymnasium Harper and Rommie consulted. "We don't need to rebuild everything right freaking now. Racks and storage can wait, just as long as we get these components hooked together and operational."
"It looks awfully sloppy and unprofessional to just have everything strewn around like this, though. I mean . . . well, I already feel . . . grubby. And I don't like it. I am a warship you know and I've got my pride. Not to mention that as the flagship of the Old Commonwealth I also have standards to uphold."
"Yeah, yeah, I know, and believe me I'd like nothing better than to have you completely refitted to match the ravishing beauty who strutted onto the command deck while we were facing our execution at GS92196. But this is emergency repair. Nothing fancy, just get things working. And don't care too much about 'how' as long as you get it done without making things worse. Touch ups and cosmetic work can wait until -- "
He was interrupted by the sound of Beka's voice being transmitted shipwide. "Attention! All personnel. Slipstream in five, . . . four, . . . three, . . . two, . . . "
At the call, Harper and Rommie grabbed some of the jury rigged components to keep them from sliding around during the turbulence of transition.
"You see? This is the sort of thing that I'm worried about. What about if we are attacked before this repair job can be completed? We'd just have to start all over again."
"Okay, okay, I get your point, but I'm not going to leave this stuff like this. I'll tack each part down to the floor with soluble adhesive, then when I get the time I'll build the racks and storage shelves in the machine shop with spare parts. Okay, let's juice the system and see what we've got."
In the gymnasium, Tyr gave a mighty leap, using the suit exoskeleton to propel himself through the air in a long glide. He didn't really stop to think about how impossible it was for him to do it in the real world, he simply spread his arms and glided on the membranes that had grown onto them. To an outside observer it would have appeared as if a giant, humanoid bat had flown by. It looked that way very much to the Nietzschean hostiles who saw him as well. They began to track this barely glimpsed creature to do a threat assessment.
"You experienced variable A-G fields in the gymnasium? How?"
"Harper and my avatar had activated a data link with the suit and the suit used the link to create conditions necessary for the immersive environment. Tyr -- flew."
"This is getting worse and worse, isn't it?"
"Yes. If my interpretation of the data is correct it indicates a psychological submergence into this virtual reality. It might prove difficult to bring Tyr out of it. On the up side, I now have full control of all environmental systems in that quandrant of the ship. Back on the down side, I still have no control over the suit. It is not responding to commands to terminate or suspend programming, and the necessary components to recreate the systems for full self-control are not available. Tyr is also no longer responding to my attempts to communicate. He appears to be oblivious to attempts with the rafter lasers to attract his attention."
Harper gaped. "Okay! Okay, that's it! I am now officially ticked off! Give my laser torch. I'm cutting open that lousy door and this time it is not going to stand in my way."
Dylan's voice asked, "How long will that take you?"
"Ten minutes, tops!"
Dylan looked at the screen image of Andromeda. "How much worse is it likely to get in ten minutes?"
"Much worse. Tyr -- or the creature he has become in the immersive environment -- has just slaughtered a hunting party intent on capturing him, and it respawned just as the others had done. There are now sixty enemy soldiers in the area and the groups are increasingly amalgamating into larger tactical groups. Spontaneously. I anticipate that with one more confrontation these groups will be suborned into a single battle group under the command of an individual who will coordinate their efforts from a central location."
Harper walked quickly back out into the corridor, moving toward the gymnasium door. "Listen, Rommie, I need you to get something for me from Machine Shop 17. In the workshop, on the third set of shelves, the locked cabinets, actually, I need you get the box-like contraption with the handle on the top. It's easy to recognize 'cause it's got that 'Caution: danger' striping on it. You've got to bring it here."
"Sure, but, . . . what is it?"
"Uh, . . . well, . . . it's kind of . . . you know, . . . a narrow-beam Meissner Effect Impulse generator."
Rommie's eyes opened wide. "What are you doing with one of those? That could kill me!"
"Yeah, but it's not meant for you! It's in case we ever have to deal with a bunch of renegade avatars like we had to on Pax Magellanic." He looked at Rommie as if expecting the worst and afraid to get it. "Just be careful with it, that's all. It's deactivated, just don't punch any of the buttons."
Rommie acquiesced, seeming to do so against her better judgement. "Okay, but I sure hope I don't drop it." She turned and headed off up the corridor while Harper lowered his eyepieces and warmed up the cutter.
On Command Deck, Dylan shook his head. "Your avatar is getting a what?"
"A narrow-beam Meissner Effect Impulse generator. Harper built it after our run in with the crew of avatars on the Pax Magellanic. I certainly don't like having one inboard, but it'll totally wipe out the suit software and overload the circuitry. I don't think he has any option but to use it to be honest. The way Tyr is going he won't end the simulation voluntarily. In fact he's stalking another scouting group right now."
In the immersive environment, a fluid, dark-hued shape flowed over a large rock, then under a bush. It moved fairly quickly, but made less noise than the group of five hostiles it was after. The point man suddenly stopped, crouched down, and raised a fist to indicate visual contact with some kind of anomaly. Ahead, he could see what appeared to be a man. He moved forward cautiously to find a full set of clothing stuffed with branches and propped up as if it were a person resting. He signaled the other four to move up and peered around into the nearby plant life. There was a sudden explosion of movement and the simulacrum fell back, startled, and then "died" as the something wrenched its head around to face over its back.
Weapon-fire lanced through the space a fraction of second after Tyr ducked back down out of sight. The group of four looked around nervously, trying to spot the huge, batwinged, demon-thing that had killed their companion. Then suddenly it was among them from behind, and another hostile fell inert, his heart and lungs punctured by bonespurs. A third hostile went flying backwards from a palm-strike to the nose; dieing as shards from his shattered nasal bones cut through his brain. The remaining two hostiles began firing wildly, and one got off two shots before his right hand was amputated and his weapon fell to the ground. He instinctively ducked a roundhouse kick, but the dew-claw sliced open the side of his neck anyway.
The last hostile got off three more shots before a sword-hand strike broke the xyphoid process off the sternum and drove it upwards into the heart.
The demon-thing held the follow through for a couple of seconds, growling in rage as Tyr was wont to do at a pestilent nuisance he had just thoroughly destroyed. But then he grabbed his leg. Blood -- simulated blood -- flowed between his fingers and down the leathery skin of the thigh.
In the real world, Tyr grasped his thigh through the suit as the pain of the injury shot up and down his leg. He hobbled across the floor. Moments later, in the virtual reality of the software, the killed simulacra of the group respawned. One of them saw the blood, and the group moved to follow it. Moments after that, a new group of hostiles appeared, saw the blood spoor on the forest floor, and moved to trail it. Before they got very far, however, they hesitated, acknowledged their location to Battle Group Command, and reported that the quarry was injured and they were in pursuit of him. They were advised that another group was already tracking the target and ordered to link up with it. Around the rain forest environment, other scouting groups were ordered to alter their search patterns to intercept the intruder.
Tyr the Demon-thing limped painfully through the forest. He turned his head to left and right, smelled the breeze, then growled in anger. The enemy had him surrounded and their movements spoke of much better coordination than before. Also, there was now at least a platoon of hunters. "Well," thought Tyr. "If they're going to take me down it's going to cost them." He faded into the underbrush and began to hunt the hunters. The suit helmet used white noise to block out the sound of the gymnasium doors melting and being cut from Harper's torch.
Tyr the Demon-thing dragged his subdued captive through the bush. The hostile had been tied up with his own jacket. He added the prisoner to the three others hidden in a small clearing within some dense brush, then went after another one. He had moved from one scouting group to another so the enemy would not anticipate him and to sow as much uncertainty and apprehension as he could; he wanted each of the hostiles to worry about whether he'd be next or not, but he also knew that the searchers might find his captives and free them. He had decided that this was the best offensive, however. Take out as many as he could without spawning more hostiles and draw the rest into a large single group in a small area where he would fall upon them if he had to but where they were more likely to shoot each other.
Unfortunately, the software had other plans.
Tyr spotted a small group, only three hunters, who appeared to be confused. He decided that they had been seperated from their non-com and were out of contact with the Battle Group. They moved hesitantly down the trail, and he followed, closing the distance. Just when he was ready to jump them the noise of several hostiles came from the bushes around him and the three he was following spun about, bringing up their weapons. A voice called, "We want him for interrogation so don't kill him unless you have to, but take him!"
At that moment, there came the sound of a clanging rumble; more like an earthquake than thunder. The simulacra ignored it and Tyr had no time to be distracted.
"Okay, Angel-face, I've set it up now all you have to do is knock it down." Rommie straight-armed the center of the door and the cut section fell into the gymnasium, making an incredible "WHANGG!" when it hit the floor.
Harper and Rommie looked through the door to see Tyr looking left, then right, and then launch a flurry of kicks and blows that appeared as if they would have been painful to anything they hit. Rommie said, "Andromeda tells me that the enemy has him surrounded and is trying to take him. She also says that he is psychologically submerged in the simulation. Bringing him out of it could be dangerous."
"No problemo. Once I kill the suit circuitry he'll have nothing left to do except take off the helmet."
"Perhaps I should do that. I'm much less susceptible to injury than you are."
"Uh-ugh! Not a chance, Angel-face. I'm not letting you trigger this baby. Not even from behind. Besides, Tyr likes me. He wouldn't do anything to hurt me. Just do me a favour and move a few meters up the corridor will you? Just to make sure."
Rommie thought for a second, then said, "Very well," and moved away from the gymnasium door. Harper went inside.
Tyr continued to dance madly. In the immersive environment, his movements were translated into a wild dervish of destruction and mayhem. Eight of the thirty hostiles were already down, none of them fatally but definitely out for the count, and as Harper moved in closer, waiting for an opportunity to kill the suit without hurting Tyr, the warrior rapped the skulls of two other soldiers together.
As they went down, the rest of the ambush moved back a bit, then the officer-in-charge said, "Weapons up! Kill him where he stands! Fire!"
Tyr moved to launch himself at the officer but was seized by a sudden paralysis. This was quickly followed by convulsions, and then the scene in the viewfield broke up into static and disappeared, leaving only the mid-level light of the gymnasium he had seen before the suit was activated. He heard a muffled voice calling, "Tyr! Yo, Tyr! Can you hear me? Are you okay?" He turned toward the source, seeing a shadow, then realized that it was Harper. In a blind fury he tore at the neck-seals on the helmet.
Harper watched Tyr closely, trying to make up his mind to run as the Nietzschean ripped the helmet off his head and threw it aside. It rattled its way twenty-five meters across the gym floor before coming to a spinning stop, but even before it did Tyr had grabbed Harper by his jacket and hoisted him up in the air, shaking him in a paroxysm of fury.
"Why did you stop it?!" he thundered. "Why did you do that?! I was strong! I was powerful! I was mighty! And my enemies fell before me as the wheat before the harvester! Do you have any idea what I had become?!"
"Uh, yeah, but you're the Tyr we know and all love to fear; that other thing was, . . . uh, some kind of alien freakazoid! It wasn't you, Tyr."
Tyr lowered the smaller man until his face was inches from his own, then snarled, "But I was having fun." He glared at Harper, twisting his head as if he was thinking of twisting Harper's the same way. Then he said in a more reasonable tone of voice, slowly getting his anger under control, "But I guess play time is over now."
"Well, yeah; now it's time to get back to reality. That's a good philosophy."
Harper's knees buckled as Tyr set him heavily down on the floor. "So, what happened anyway?"
"Uh, well, you see," Harper answered, looking at Tyr hopefully, "we didn't properly calculate the stresses and you were just so magnificent that you blew out all the remote support systems inside the wall. Caused a total meltdown. I can show you the damage if you like."
Tyr stared back at him for a moment. "You're sucking up to me, aren't you?"
"Well, yeah, just a little. Is it working?"
Tyr shrugged. "Sure. Just a little."
"Great! So, uh, why not bring the suit to Machine Shop 17 and I'll crack us a couple of 300 hundred year old Weisbrau while you take it off so I can start looking at it?"
Tyr shrugged. "Sure. Why not?" He put an arm around Harper's shoulders and they started toward the doors. "So; tell me again how magnificent I was."
"Oh, yeah! Andromeda says that thing you became is your image of yourself. You know; a glorious avenging angel swooping down on your enemies to lay them low in crushing defeat underneath your heels; less than the dust on your sandals."
"Hmm; yes, that sounds like me."
The lights went out after they passed through the burned open door and the implacable darkness returned. The sound of their voices from the corridor slowly diminished and then the silence set in again as well.