Chapter 27

East Dock, International Zone,
Solaris City, Solaris VII,
Freedom Theater, Lyran Alliance,
February 3, 3070

Mac Storm loved his new integrated armor. Cybernetic technology was not all that great in 3070, and although it had been improving over the years, integrating the machines with living tissue took weeks, if not months, to accomplish. The Word of Blake version of cybernetic technology was different. It was light, strong, and didn't take much time to adjust to, almost like plug-and-play. It made him feel like a god.

But Mac always knew that nothing was free in Solaris VII. The cybernetic technology still belonged to the Word of Blake, and they could do as they pleased with it. The privilege of donning this inhuman yet faustian super power had to be paid in unquestioned loyalty to the Blakists. The moment he didn't keep his end of the bargain, the Word of Blake would take everything away from him.

So when Precentor Adhem summoned him to the East Dock and showed him the remains of the dropship, Mac thought his life was over. He wanted to kill Jeremy – he loved his new power but he still preferred his old lifestyle, one that Jeremy robbed from him – but that little prick from the periphery simply wouldn't die. And everytime Mac tried to kill him or make his life miserable, Jeremy found a way to return the favor, three times as nasty.

"You have betrayed the Word of Blake," Adhem didn't waste time to berate Mac. "You and your little stunt have cost us a week worth of supplies and logistics. You have disregarded Word of Blake chain of command and acted without authorization!"

"A couple of Solaris scums attacked me," Mac said as he showed Adhem the scar from Jeremy's blade. "They had all the intention to kill me. An attack of any Word of Blake agent is an attack to the Word of Blake as a whole. That was all the authorization I need."

"You are not a Word of Blake agent!" Adhem poured his wrath on Mac. "You are just an object of Word of Blake experiment! You are nothing but a lab rat! How dare you carry the name of the Word of Blake for your personal vendetta?"

"It was not a personal vendetta, Sir," Mac replied, but he started to feel that Adhem had decided on his fate. "Those pests were just anti -Word of Blake from Montenegro slums. They just have to be eliminated."

"And why do you think you have the qualification to carry out the elimination?"

"You gave me this cybernetic enchancements for a reason, Sir! I am stronger, faster, more responsive than those pesty mechwarriors, so I took the initiative…"

"And you failed!" Adhem shot a furious stare at Mac. "You failed to kill them and you sacrificed a dropship with your incompetence! I did not give you permission to think! I did not give you permission to take initiative on anything! I did not give you permission to do anything but to follow my order! But if that simplicity is too much for your little brain, then maybe I have picked the wrong specimen!"

Adhem turned to a couple of Achilleus battlearmors that stood nearby. "Take him back to the lab and dismantle him!"

The two Achilleus moved in and grabbed Mac before he could do anything. Mac fought back but the battlearmors were huge; their forearms were as big as Mac's thighs. Their fingers wrapped around Mac's biceps and sank deep into the flesh, and Mac realized that further resistance would only do harm to his body. He complied as the battlearmors escorted him to a jeep.

But Mac never intended to yield. He knew that the Word of Blake was going to kill him once they took away the robotic components. The only chance to save his life was to get out of the Word of Blake's grip. So he let the two battlearmors escort him as if he was submissive, but the moment the battlearmors loosened their grips on his arms, he jumped onto the jeep like a spring. One of the Achilleus lunged to grab his legs, but Mac leapt to the air, clearing the Achilleus' snatch, then fired a straight punch at the Achilleus' head. His titanium arm, added by the downward momentum of his descent, smashed through the Achilleus visor and bludgeoned the face of the soldier inside the battlearmor. Blood and gristle splattered from inside the helmet. The big armored infantry jerked behind and fell on its back.

The other Achilleus fired its machine guns, raining down .50 caliber bullets on Mac but Mac bolted off the jeep. The bullets riddled the jeep and tore the jerry can at the back. Fire engulfed the jeep, forcing the Achilleus to backpedal while covering its head. Mac grabbed a crow bar from the burning jeep and hacked off the machine gun on the Achilleus right arm. Part of the gun clanged to the ground and the big battlearmor teetered on his heels. Mac threw the crowbar like a javelin, and the slender rod impaled the Achilleus on the head, coming off cleanly from the back.

"Kill him!" Adhem roared, his voice riddled with fury and awe. "Kill that filth!"

Dozens rifles and submachine guns barked and flung their slugs at Mac. Burning tins forced Mac to grimace as his chest was riddled with bullets. But it was nothing more than that: injuries, painful, but nevertheless not mortal. The cybernetic components supported his body against multiple gunshot wounds that would have shredded a normal human to pieces.

Mac was taken aback by his new power, but he knew how not to push his limit. He turned around and bolted through the streets between vehicles and mechs. Word of Blake soldiers trailed him, guns blazing, but they couldn't keep up with Mac's speed. Once in a while a bullet would sting Mac from the back, but aside from the burning pain, Mac knew it wouldn't stop him, so he just ignored the pain and kept running.

Leaving the dock, Mac found a dark alley between buildings and slid behind a dumpster. He tore his shirt off to inspect his wounds, and was totally amazed at the sight of his own body. His torso was soaked with blood from nearly two dozen bullet holes, but he was still breathing. Aside from the pain, his body function was not disrupted by the loss of blood pressure.

Mac grinned in total satisfaction.

Word of Blake tanks, armored vehicles and fast cars zipped past by with their lights illuminating every corner of the streets, so Mac cowered behind the dumpster, getting ready to jump out if any Blakist busted him out of his hiding place. But they just kept passing the dumpster and swept the streets. It was close to sunup when the Blake units left the area.

Mac carefully inspected the streets before walking out. His wounds had stopped bleeding. He grabbed some clothes on an abandoned building and started walking back toward Montenegro disctrict.

"Now, Jeremy," he mumbled to himself as he walked. "This time, you will die!"