We've finally tracked it down.
On the southern edge of the crater basin, the spider's lair is a half spherical dark gray blob on the landscape by my vision, but as we hide behind the bluff, Razor describes it in more detail for me while we finish preparations. It's a tangled hive of machinery and construction equipment mashed together with dark gray synthetic webbing, and the structure itself stands maybe four stories tall but descends an unknown distance beneath the ice.
Installing my new SmartChips from the factory, I grumble, "No way I'm going inside something like that."
"Neither am I. Your plan, Ace?"
She's pacing in front of us, muttering to herself. "Farsight SmartChip will improve my accuracy at a distance but that means I have to stay way back or suffer its penalties up close and the ergonomic stock for Rosie should help with ease of movement and I have the Flash Flare SmartChip installed in case anything gets close and I need to make a getaway–"
Razor turns to me. "We'll come up with something."
"Do you think she's okay?"
"Stressed. Very stressed. I think it's best we just let her get this out of her."
"Twenty shots for Rosie should be plenty but I have ten more in cube storage, we all have at least three TFIs ready at our hips just in case, and with Witch's fancy new Conduit, we have even more availability for repairs, and then she has that Acid Cloak SmartChip to blind the optics of anything that tries to hit her at close range and that wicked boost to her GreenTech's stopping power, then Razor has that new self-sharpening sheath to cut even deeper with Logos, the Dash SmartChip to improve her mobility even further, and the Ink Cloud SmartChip to make her own getaways if she's pinned down, and I replaced Taser's firing mechanisms so her pins can hopefully punch armor easier, Tune got a tune-up with her resilience and resistance as well, we have fucking Lesion on our side now too–Ohhh, Tesla, I hope we're ready. I really hope we're ready."
Razor soothes, "Sit down, Ace. Come here."
She falls into Razor, wrapped up in her waiting arms and legs. With a weighted sigh, Ace groans, "I'm so fucking nervous. I can't stop remembering the way it murdered me. With such ease. And… Damn it. The way I thought I got away, thought I could survive after all, only to get hit with that acid attack…"
Razor brushes Ace's white hair with her fingers. "You're not alone this time. Far from it."
"I know…"
I pat Ace's head. "We'll make it regret ever messing with us, Dad."
"Thanks…"
Razor adds, "We're well prepared. Better than we ever have been for anything before this."
"I hope so…"
"Run us through the strategy, one more time, now that we have eyes on the environment and can make clearer judgments on our approach."
"Okay. Right. So, first, no fucking way we're going inside that."
"Smart."
"What Witch said."
"I think we should set it on fire."
Nodding, I say, "I could do that. Assuming it's flammable material. Scribe?"
"Umm. Searching. Tune, what's this spider's IN?"
She's seated right next to me, remotely connected to Scribe as well just by nature of being an MI. "I do not know. Sensors do not indicate the presence of the machine which killed Ace. However, sensors do indicate the presence of several XRL-ZF-BC-01D3s and XRL-ZF-BD-01D2s."
Ace laughs. "That's a mouthful."
"Copy, copy. The XRL-ZF series of robotics utilize an adhesive made primarily of epoxy resin… Ignition temperature one hundred seventy seven centigrade, so yes, very flammable. That's great news!"
Ace is peeking over the snowbank with her rifle. "Is that what those are? The smaller spiders?"
"Brood Children," Scribe translates, flashing images across my onboard for me of baby spiders maybe a meter and a half in diameter. "Brood Daughters," he adds, showing me much bigger ones that look to be closer to three meters wide.
I shudder. Ow. My back hurts. "Those are big spiders."
"And then there's the XRL-ZF-BM-00M4! Brood Mother! Which is, oh, another order of magnitude larger. Have fun with that! Sending you their documentation for your individual review…"
Ace hums a flat tone. "Burn it down. Come up here, you two, let's plot the approach."
Razor helps me up the bluff and I prop myself on my good elbow to keep the weight off my bad arm, tapping into Ace's optic feed since mine is useless.
Wait. Why didn't I think of that sooner?
I could probably do this with Lesion…
There's a steep decline down the far face of the bluff into a basin of its own. The area in front of the nest is a veritable killzone, a pit trap waiting to catch anyone unfortunate enough to stumble across it. The space is flanked with destroyed buildings and half rotted military cargo trucks, dotted in the middle with overturned vehicles and construction machinery. There's a pile of concrete piping in the middle too, each maybe two meters in diameter but eight to ten in length. And a stack of huge metal shipping containers haphazardly tossed on top of one another.
I mumble, "Look. Red barrels. That's always a good sign."
"Stupid fucking spiders," Ace snickers. "Probably don't even realize what those are."
"Good decor," Razor huffs. "The rusted orange really brings the place together. Helpful too."
Ace points out the mat of epoxy resin webbing that coats the entire approach. "That's our fuse."
I nod. "Looks good. I could hit that target even with my optics."
"Right. We ignite that, it blows up the barrels, which ignites the rest, and then the nest itself catches as well. It will probably destroy all the little ones and at least damage the Daughters and Mother."
"Okay," Razor replies. "What then? How do we move in to fight if everything is on fire?"
"We'll wait for the fuckers to come to us. Witch and I will rip them up from a distance, we'll lure them out of their turf over this bluff and into the snowfield where you, Lesion, and Tune will be waiting. I'll keep Witch close and be her eyes the whole way, and then we'll flank them once you've engaged."
"I'm impressed, Ace. Here I thought you'd be running in guns blazing."
"I've gone through a certain amount of growth, haven't I?"
I chime in with, "We should be prepared in the event they don't take the bait and let us kite them out. If they just hunker down and stay put, self repair through the flame damage, then what? We'll have wasted our only advantage and then have no choice but to engage them on their front lawn down there."
"Good point," Ace says, then there's a short pause. "I don't have any ideas for that."
Razor takes over. "In that case, we would retreat. There's no sense pushing in if they won't fight on our terms, because this isn't an engagement we should take unless we know for certain we have the advantage. Worst comes, we'll go round up some more red barrels and blow the whole thing up in one go."
"But I really want that spider dead…"
"You'll only get yourself killed again if you aren't smart about making that happen, shootie."
"Yes, yes, you're right, slashie. We'll back off if it doesn't work. I won't make the mistake of getting myself killed by the same thing twice." Ace turns a sideways look at us. In her vision, it's plain just how destroyed my condition is. Half my head, neck, and shoulder is charred black, with my neon green exposed jawbone looking damn near radioactive. I turn my head but she quickly looks away, saying, "I think we're as ready as we'll ever be. At least, I am. I just want to… I don't know. Thank you. Both of you. This is… important to me. And I'm grateful you're both here with me to do it."
"Don't get too sentimental either," Razor responds, nudging her with an elbow. "You'd do the same for us. You will do the same for me, when my turn comes to get even. So let's get it done."
"Fuck yeah. Um. Razor. Just in case–"
"I know. Save it for afterwards."
"Well, last time I waited for afterwards–"
Razor kisses her.
Whoa. Wow. Okay.
I retreat from Ace's optics.
Um. I don't know what to do. They're still kissing, I think. I can hear it. And talking. Mutters and whispers and soft tones. Am I… supposed to… Shoot. I don't know. I guess Mom and Dad are having a moment. I'm happy for them but I don't know what it means though or what's going to happen.
I turn my deaf side toward them and make myself busy, double checking my sustain on Fearless, then casting TechArmor and Distorted Refractions. I do not want to get hurt any more than I already am. Besides, my vision is blurry–why shouldn't I be blurry to my enemies? Then I prime up Group Overshield and sort of hold it. Waiting.
"Look at our daughter," Razor murmurs. "I'm so proud of her."
"Amazing. Incredible. She's done so well." Ace brushes a hand through my refracted copies. "Fuck yeah. Witch, double check you have permissionless access to all our optics?"
"I do. You, Razor, Tune, and Lesion can all be my eyes." I let go of Group Overshield, adding to our protections. "Please make sure to help guide me though…"
"We will," Razor assures me, holding my hand. "We love you."
"Yeah. We love you, Witch. We'll protect you."
"That… That makes me… really happy. Thanks…"
"Mhm. Ace and I are ready when you are."
"Light it up, kiddo. You kick us off."
Utilizing Ace's targeting telemetry and transmitting the aim calculations to my onboard, I prep a simple red tuned Prism Bolt CleanTech. It's only twelve meters to the target: the diesel barrel with the most small spiders around it. Still, I don't want to miss it and blow the entire operation right at the start. The Tech sizzles and crackles through the Conduit in my palm, and I trade a nod with the other two.
Revenge, a year in the making.
I send the dart of fire across the distance.
My aim rings true. The force bangs against the barrel like a bell, and the old, sludgy gasoline inside erupts. The flames expand in the blink of an eye and a shockwave booms out across the overcast wasteland, kicking up some snow off the bluff and punching in my chest. The fires rage and sweep along the epoxy resin webbing, igniting every other diesel barrel the spiders were unfortunate enough to have woven into their hive for structure.
The pit trap killzone is a raging inferno. The flames wick up the fuse-like extension of the web and in seconds the whole towering nest is ablaze. Black smoke billows up into the air and meets the clouds like a second Reclaimer Beacon. The heat is unlike any warmth I've felt in my short life on Cipher-3. The stench of burning rubber and gasoline floods the air.
ZENITH> Please tell me that's your doing.
HENNA> We can see it from here!!! :D
WITCH> 1 it was me lol
HENNA> YAYYY! GO WITCH GO!!!
RAZOR> Roasted spider for dinner tonight?
ZENITH> I've eaten worse…
Ace stands up, rifle on her shoulder. Her eyes take it all in, the dead spiders, the scorching skyline, the destruction and death and chaos, and then she laughs. It's a hollow, dead sound, not so much sourced from amusement as it is from nerves and unease.
It's begun. There's no taking it back.
She chambers her modded rivet rifle. "That's right. Burn."
Razor helps me up, brushing the snow off. "Now we wait."
I call Lesion closer, leaning against him. From my perspective, it's all orange. Everything is white, black, or orange, smeared together like an oil painting inside a broken frame. There's beauty to it, I think. Not that I'd prefer it this way, but…
The colors are pretty. I can recognize that.
I take a snapshot of my optic inputs.
Razor's arm lifts. "There they are. All over."
"Look at them die," Ace hums. "Melted solder and popping diodes."
"I count five Daughters. No sign of the Mother."
"Plenty of little ones though."
"Let them burn. I think the Daughters are more deserving of Rosie's attention."
"Yeah, but… Looks like Witch was onto something. They aren't rushing us like I hoped they would. Should we bail?"
"I never said we had to flee immediately. See if we can't coax them. Either they sit in the fires or come out and get shot."
"Witch, are you able to piggyback off my aim?"
"Mhm. I'll fire CleanTech right after you, using your same telemetry calculations. Just don't miss."
"Oh, I won't." In her eyes, I watch as she lifts her rifle and growls, "I wonder, you overglorified parasite. Is your young being slaughtered worthy of your intervention?"
She activates the Sharpshooter IA: a telemetry modification that heightens her ability to hit her shots while staying completely still. It works wonders. She fires one, then two. Both shots land true and fierce, nailing the spiders to the burning terrain. I follow through with green bullets of my own, finishing them both off.
"That's two," she counts, chambering another rivet from the extended magazine she built.
"Two more replaced them," Razor observes.
"Good."
Bang! Bang! I spit venom again.
"Sorry," I mutter, having failed to kill the second target.
"Not your fault. Fucker wasn't nailed down properly."
Razor adds, "The little ones have all burned. Those in sight, at least."
"Good." Ace fires again, snapping the head off the one I left alive, then, despite it being dead, puts another through it to nail it to the wall like an ugly eight legged set piece.
"Damn, Ace," I huff, admiring her precision. "Do you have a vendetta or something?"
"Four dead Daughters. Where are you, fucker? Come out here and die."
Razor says flatly, "Kill them all, if that's what it takes. I wouldn't mind avoiding a fight against the swarm if we can single the Mother out by killing the rest."
I mutter, "Like clearing adds to focus DPS on the boss."
"Uh. Yeah. That."
More Daughters keep clambering out of the burning nest, breaching an opening in the sides or top of it and then sitting there staring at us. They aren't moving. It's like they want to die. I think we're happy to oblige, though I am wary of what they're doing and why they're acting so strangely. Ace is packing rivets into the empty magazine, as big as railway spikes, bigger than my hand from wrist to fingertip by a significant margin. Six go in and she jams the magazine back into place, chambering the first one.
With that, we resume our process of systematically exterminating spiders. She fires rivets, I fire acid, and Razor sits back to enjoy the show of flame, death, and demolition.
Six. Ten. Twelve. Fifteen.
We keep killing but the Mother has yet to show itself.
I glance at Razor who shrugs. "The more that die now…"
"Die, you fucking insects, die!"
I click my tongue. "Spiders aren't insects. They're arachnids."
"These aren't animals! They're machines!"
"Granted. The distinction is still important, in my book."
"Let me seethe in my incorrect ignorance," she growls through clenched teeth, still shooting, then pausing to reload. "I'm going to run out of rivets if it keeps up like this. Sixteen to go. None left in storage."
"Hold on," Razor says, laying a hand over the rifle's barrel. "Reload, but let's reassess."
"Right, this is weird," she sighs, packing rivets into the mag. "Something's not right."
"Tune, use your GPR."
"Affirmative. Please stand by. Ding." Her eyes turn yellow and a few seconds drag on. "Ground penetrating radar shows several kilometers of tunnels carved through the ice beneath us. These tunnels are arranged in an interconnecting labyrinth much like an ant colony, and sensors indicate that they expand laterally and vertically as far as my ability to detect them."
"Understood," Razor says, turning to scan the basin behind us, a wide open snowfield this far out. "She isn't hiding in the nest. She's flanking us from somewhere else using the nest as a distraction."
"Smart fucking spider…"
"You said it yourself, these aren't thoughtless animals. Machine Intelligence. They possess thinking, processing, and sometimes learning minds. They can make predictions. Make assessments. Make decisions. And potentially outsmart even us, if we're not careful."
Fooled me. I'm embarrassed to realize that but not foolish enough to voice it.
"And they sure outsmarted me," Ace voices it. "Good thinking, Razor. We've lost the advantage then. We should retreat."
"No. Fleeing is no longer an option. We've been standing here in a noose that's slowly been tightening without us being aware of it, and for how long? There's no way to tell, so there's no way to know how and to what extent the advantage has been built against us." She goes quiet, taking my hand as her head turns from right to left, scanning the horizon behind us. "We are trapped. I wish I'd thought of or noticed it before, but the last thing we want to do is act with haste or with fear."
My knees are trembling on their own. Hang in there, Fearless.
"The question is," she continues, "what kind of trap are we in?"
Ace says, "A pincer, I'd bet. It's going to try to drive us into that burning killzone over the bluff. Then close in from all sides while we burn."
"Oh, Ace. That's brilliant. That has to be it. In which case, we need to pivot wide and reposition immediately. Let's move. Clockwise, to the West. Now, you two."
I clamber onto Lesion and tell him to follow. With Taser and Tune in tow, Ace leads the way, keeping her eyes and scope on the nest to make sure they don't make any moves on us. Her aim is erratic and her processors are a little scrambled so I can't do much besides stay low to Lesion and beg myself to stop shaking from fear.
I hate it. I hate this. It's never been so blatant to me before this how much I loathe being afraid. I need to do something. I need to help. If I lose sustain on Fearless, I'll be a hindrance to them and risk getting us all killed. I can't let this win. I can't let fear consume me. It always has, and I worry that it always will.
Right now, this is the battle I'm fighting.
The spider swarm is secondary.
In my head, I fight myself.
And I think I've decided to go for the kill.
"Up there!" Razor shouts, pointing out a haphazard stack of shipping containers. "Climb! Go!"
I urge Lesion up and he jumps onto one, then up another so I have some decent height, and I remote my way into utilizing his optics. Right now, he's in VLS, but he also has infrared and ultraviolet, if needed. I can see everything through his eyes. I can even incorporate his optic input with my aiming telemetry.
Problem solved. I'm back in action.
Ace tears past me and climbs as high as possible, then latches into an ancient power line tower in the middle of the arrangement to ascend even higher. Razor lifts Logos toward the spiders on the burning nest, now a stone's throw away from us.
"Fuck you!" Ace shouts, dangling upside down from a rung on the built in ladder, taking a couple pot shots at the nearest Daughter. It's poking out of the side of the nest but then becomes a part of it instead, nailed up like a specimen.
The huge metal containers underneath us thump and clang and their doors swing open and two dozen of the little Children spiders swarm out of them. I scream, urging Lesion higher up the stack, my heart in my throat.
In the distance rings a shriek louder and more piercing than mine. Legs reach and claw and drag the huge body over the bluff we were just hiding on. The Mother spider emits her second cry, four of its legs raised to the clouds as if mourning its burning home. The legs stab the bluff, slamming the ice. As it rages on, more of its young gather at its feet, swarming over the hillside.
From above, Ace laughs. "Called it!"
"Celebrate later!" Razor shouts back.
The fight doesn't wait for me.