This One's Got Your Name On It (standard:science fiction, 4103 words)
Author: Gavin J. Carr	Added: Feb 28 2005	Views/Reads: 3384/2270	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The past finally catches up to a veteran of a future war.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

men's grim faces afterwards.  None of them rated their chances of 
getting through this one.  Not if half of what they'd been told was 
true. 

Klien-Matsui Company was going down.  In the past three months they'd
been fighting a frantic rear-guard action, pulling troops back and 
liquidating company assets. 

Intelligence had intercepted an encrypted company memo that pointed to
Klien-Matsui mustering their remaining resources for something big.  
And Frost was convinced he knew what they were planning. 

Saxa Vord was a research base, part of Klien-Matsui's Experimental
Weapons Division.  And although smart weapons had been in existence for 
decades, Frost believed that they were on the verge of taking them to a 
whole new level. 

Aware-Ware. 

An evolutionary leap in man's capacity to kill.  Weapons that were for
all intensive purposes alive. 

Frost theorized that they would be capable of complex decision making. 
Patience.  Even a sort of low cunning.  They wouldn't stop Klien-Matsui 
losing the war, but they could be used as a bargaining chip to 
negotiate favorable terms, or to prolong the fighting for many more 
bloody months. 

Kovcheck had stood up at the briefing and asked Frost what the weapons
would be like. 

‘It's pointless to speculate,' Frost had said, puffing absently from his
pipe.  ‘But they'd be pretty nasty indeed!' 

Kovcheck didn't tell him what he was thinking.  That perhaps Aware-Ware
wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing.  That too many innocent civilians 
had died in this pointless war through faulty guidance systems and 
stray rounds.  Would it really be so bad if the killing were restricted 
to the killers?  He brushed aside the though.  They would put him in 
the stockade if they knew what was going on in his head. 

‘The only chance we've got,' continued Frost, ‘is if the weapons are
still in the prototype stages.  If they're operational, then we're all 
dead.' 

Not all of us, thought Kovcheck as he looked at Frost now.  Some of us
have made sure the dice are loaded.  He glanced at the body shell again 
and then went back to checking his gun. 

The skimmer's warning light came on.  Three minutes to landfall. 

Kovcheck reached over and shook Petrovsky awake.  She gave him a
cockeyed grin and shook the man next to her. 

On the satellite maps there wasn't much to see.  Saxa Vord was a low,
grassy mound set within a ring of large concrete posts.  It looked 
Neolithic, like the tomb of some fallen king, but of course it was 
entirely underground.  The only access was a discrete steel door set 
into the earth. 

Kovcheck tensed as the engines changed pitch.  The skimmer flew in low
and there was a sharp judder as they dropped the IMPs over the site.  
The Instant Magnetic Pulse bombs would wipe their software, making 
their computerized defence programme worthless.  It would all be manual 
from here on in.  The old fashioned way. 

In the cabin there was the usual last minute rush.  Troops checking
their weapons and body armour, adjusting their CNB suits and night 
vision visors. 

Kovcheck watched as Frost rose shakily from his seat and pulled the
tarpaulin off the body shell.  The gunmetal grey alloy glowed dully in 
the cabin's fluorescence.  Frost cracked the seal and climbed in.  As a 
non-combatant, he was lucky enough to be given one of the precious 
suits.  Made of titanium alloy, they were slow and bulky - making him 
look like the Michelin man - but nothing offered better battlefield 
protection than a body shell.  It was just a shame they hadn't designed 
one that was suitable for combat.  Kovcheck's body armour was better 
than nothing, but wouldn't stand up to a serious barrage. 

The cabin lights changed to red, making it look like a scene from hell. 
The engines began to whine, and they were on the ground with a thump. 

‘GoGoGoGoGo!'  They were out the door, Kovcheck in the lead.  They ran
through the grass and spongy heather towards the base.  Behind them, 
they could hear a piercing scream as the skimmer took off into the 
night. 

They were on their own. 

June 6th, 2095, 0420hrs. 

It amazed him that no matter how bad he imagined something could be, the
reality could be far worse. 

They were four men down already.  Kovcheck could see the smoldering
ruins of their bodies glowing in the darkness. 

The concrete posts were laser ports.  They had opened fire on them
almost as soon as they touched down, licking the night with their 
beams. 

They had been pinned to a hillock with no where to go, and if it hadn't
been for Petrovsky they'd all be dead.  She'd charged one of the posts, 
her camouflage set to “mirror”.  She knew it wouldn't stop a steady 
beam, but she went anyway, and got close enough to launch a grenade.  
The post cut her up before it was destroyed. 

They'd poured into the gap and straight into a minefield.  Three more
dead. 

Kovcheck was hooking up hi-ex to the door.  Above him, Williamson fired
his gun, spraying the posts with next to useless bullets. 

Suddenly, there was a scream over the comms-line.  The covering fire
stopped and Williamson went slack, falling to the ground, flopping like 
a beached fish. 

‘What he fuck's happening?' said Kovcheck.  ‘He been hit?' 

Frost glided over in his body shell.  The lasers spliced the air around
him as he looked at the flashing display on his wrist set. 

‘Microwave beam,' he said, disinterestedly.  ‘Cooked him from the
inside.' 

Kovcheck looked at Williamson's face.  His eyeballs were bubbling and
melting down his cheeks, fogging his visor with red-mist.  He was still 
screaming. 

‘Jesus!' said Kovcheck.  He pointed his gun at Williamson's head and
pulled the trigger.  Trying not to think of anything but the mission.  
Anything but Williamson. 

Frost glided away, unharmed, indestructible.  Kovcheck looked at him,
hating him, wanting to kill him for being here and yet not being here.  
For being remote from the pain and death around him.  Fucking tourist! 

The hi-ex went off and the doors disappear with a whump.  Kovcheck fired
a grenade into the doorway and followed the disappearing wall of flame 
in. 

June 6th, 2095, O455hrs. 

So far, so conventional. 

It looked as though Frost was right.  The troops they'd encountered so
far were normal soldiers.  There was no sign of Aware Ware, only 
ordinary men, fighting and dying. 

They worked their way down the downward sloping ramp way, leap frogging,
firing and advancing, firing and advancing.  The enemy's heart wasn't 
in it.  They looked frightened, aware that Klien-Matsui has lost the 
war. 

At the end of the ramp there was another door.  Warner weaved his way
round the dead bodies and removed more hi-ex from his pack.  Kovcheck 
watched as he rolled the plastic between his palms, flatting it, 
shaping it into a long tube. 

‘Come on,' shouted Kovcheck.  ‘Get a move on, Warner, we haven't got all
day!' 

Warner nodded and slapped the explosive down on the door. 

The metal was electrified.  Warner did a twisting dance in the air
before the current activated the hi-ex. 

The corridor was filled with smoke and debris.  Kovcheck brushed pieces
of concrete and Warner off his visor and set his rifle to “Flame”. 

He could feel the sting of tears as he ran towards the door, screaming
at the top of his voice.  He let loose a full five-second blast to 
clear anybody on the other side and then went in. 

They stormed in like drunken revelers at a party. 

The room was wide open, a hanger of sorts, with complex machinery and
anti contamination bubbles littering the area.  Scientists, clad in 
white protective suits ran for cover as they opened up, spraying them 
with fire. 

Behind him, Kovcheck could hear Frost glide in. 

‘Take the domes,' he crackled over the comms.  ‘That's where the weapons
are.  Whatever happens don't let them access them!' 

Kovcheck sprinted into the room and aimed at the nearest dome.  Inside,
through the slightly opaque plastic, he could see one of the scientists 
working on something large and metallic.  He seemed oblivious to what 
was going on outside, but eventually looked up, his eyes widening in 
alarm. 

Kovcheck watched as the man lunged for what looked like a console.  He
pulled the trigger and let the man have three grenades, one on top of 
the other. 

All around him the scene was repeated.  Fire, smoke and death.  The few
enemy soldiers that were around them were green and inexperienced.  Not 
the hardened commandos that he had feared.  The real professionals had 
been swallowed up by the war long ago.  Fighting had become a job for 
gifted amateurs. 

Kovcheck spied the tangle of pipes and gages that was the base's main
fuel supply.  He made a run for it, putting down suppressing fire. 

He checked his pack.  He had three hi-ex charges left.  He pulled them
out and primed them, then attached them magnetically to the pipe work, 
setting the timers for ten minutes. 

June 6th , 2095, 0450hrs. 

They were pulling back, using Frost as a shield.  The science advisor
was whining, telling them that he was going to have them court 
martialled.  Back in the hanger, while they were doing the fighting, 
Kovcheck saw him swooping over the broken domes like an oversized 
vulture.  Stealing data, not giving a fuck that there were men dying 
all around him.  Kovcheck had been mad.  Seeing Frost ignoring the 
wounded, those comrades who he'd fought alongside for so long, had 
caused something to snap inside of him.  He'd been on Frost before he 
knew what was happening.  Dragging him back into the corridor so his 
men could use him as cover. 

There was only four of them left now and Kovcheck wanted to see them all
make it. 

Pattel was on to Orbital, calling the skimmer back for evac.  The rest
of them were trying their best to shoot around Frost, listening to 
bullets ping off his shell. 

There was a static buzzing in Kovcheck's ear as Chow came through. 

‘Shit, man!  I see them coming,' she said, peering around Frost.  ‘I
think they've managed to salvage something!'  She fired twice more 
before resuming.  ‘Oh Fuck!  Let's get out of here.' 

He felt a fresh surge of adrenaline and picked up the pace.  His legs
were screaming with lactic acid as he made his way back up the ramp 
way. 

They stumbled out of the ruined doorway and back to the surface.  Out
here the wind was gently blowing.  The dark clouds moved steadily 
across the lightening sky.  To the east, the first orange fingers of 
dawn were creeping over the North Sea. Kovcheck was amazed that so 
little has changed up here.  That nature still held dominion even 
though the forces of chaos and death had been unleashed. 

They stumbled over hillocks and dead comrades.  The evac site was two
hundred metres away and there was no sign of the skimmer. 

‘Fuck, what do we do now?' asked Kovcheck.  ‘Pattel, get back onto
Orbital and find out where that skimmer is!' 

Pattel busied himself for a moment, running through frequencies. 

‘They're on their way.  Be here sixty-seconds, tops.' 

Still pulling Frost behind them, they came to a shallow trench and took
cover, soaking themselves in mud. 

Kovcheck peered over the rim of the trench.  There were troops pouring
out the doorway after them.  He slammed another clip into his gun and 
gave them a burst of fully automatic. 

He was aware of Valentine lying beside him, firing off grenades,
screaming like a mad man.  If he gets out of this alive he's going to 
need professional help, he thought.  But then, no doubt so would he. 

The enemy had taken cover and were firing back at them.  Kovcheck
watched as they wheeled something out of the doorway.  Something 
metallic and egg-like, about the size of a man. 

‘Valentine, get a grenade over there now!' 

Valentine looked sheepishly at him.  ‘I'm all out!  Chow, how are you
for grenades?' 

Chow was out too.  They were in trouble. 

They aimed at the object and tried to destroy it with bullets.  The
shells bounced harmlessly off the egg without so much as a scratch. 

Behind the object, coming out of the door, Kovcheck noticed a scientist.
 The man's protective mask was cracked and he could see half of his 
face was missing, a bloody mess torn by shrapnel.  The man grinned, his 
teeth visible through the hole in his cheek.  Kovcheck could see that 
he was cradling something in his arms.  Something long and grey, 
something lethal. 

They began to fire at the man, but none of them could get a clear shot. 
The scientist raised the object to shoulder height and they could see 
that it was a rifle. 

‘Take cover,' shouted Kovcheck. 

They ducked down in the trench, using Frost as extra cover. 

There was a compact report, unlike any other gun Kovcheck had heard. 
But he was safe in the trench and he watched as the red glow of a 
single tracer passed over their heads. 

They popped back up and returned fire, causing the scientist to duck
back into the doorway. 

Chow shouted over the comms.  ‘The skimmer's coming, I can hear it!' 

Kovcheck could hear it too.  Over the din of automatic weapon fire, the
ground began to shake. 

‘Chow.  Make sure they give us covering fire.  Don't let them leave us
holding our dicks!' 

‘Roger that, I'll-' She stopped mid-flow. 

Kovcheck turned to see what had happened. 

Chow was looking back, towards the landing site, face slack with
disbelief.  Over the field, in the distance, he could see the glow of a 
single tracer flying closer. 

‘Damn!  They must have us surrounded', said Valentine. 

But he was wrong.  Kovcheck could feel dread crawl up his spine.  It was
the same tracer from a moment ago, the one that had missed.  It was 
heading towards them, keeping low, weaving around bushes and rocks. 

Aware Ware! 

They ducked down again, but it was locked on.  Chow's head exploded. 
She'd been with the unit two weeks.  She was only eighteen. 

Kovcheck's hands were shaking.  His belly doing a leisurely flop. 
Somehow he managed to lift his visor before he was sick.  He fumbled 
the catch on his medicine pouch and found an ampoule of After Shock.   
He jabbed the needle into his thigh. 

The icy cold that enveloped him was the most welcome sensation of his
life.  He never wanted to feel again. 

The skimmer had arrived.  It landed, a scant hundred metres away, the
pilot filling the air with white-hot rounds. 

They pulled themselves out of the trench and crawled on their hands and
knees. 

Kovcheck stole a glance behind him.  The egg had begun to rotate like
demonic clockwork. 

He could hear Frost crying in his body shell. 

‘For God's sake help me.  I'm stuck!' 

Kovcheck stopped for a moment, mesmerized by the sight.  Frost was
flailing in the mud, the suit's boosters clogged with dirt. 

Behind him, he could see the top of the egg crack and peel back in
segments like a flower opening to the sun.  It sprayed a dense white 
cloud into the air. 

‘Oh, Jesus.  Please!' screamed Frost. 

Kovcheck could see the science advisor's wrist set flashing, red, green
and gold. 

‘It's nano-tec,' said Frost, ‘Get me out of here!' 

Kovcheck was aware of Valentine crawling back towards Frost.  He reached
out and put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. 

The cloud was swarming around Frost like a cloud of angry ants.  All at
once the air was filled with his screams as the tiny nanobites poured 
into the body shell. 

They watched in horror as the suit's visor filled with nono-tec, eating
Frost alive. 

They moved off fast.   They were a bare ten metres from the skimmer. 
Kovcheck could see the pilot's face behind the gat-gun.  He looked sick 
and green, his ample jowls trembling with the vibration of the weapon.  
You should try it down here, thought Kovcheck. 

He was almost close enough to touch the pilot when he felt a sharp,
stinging sensation in his left toes.  He turned, and saw the white 
swarm enveloping his boot.  Shit, it was the nano-tec!  The fucking 
Aware-Ware had him and there was nothing he could do about it! 

It was filling his boot, creeping up his ankle like flying cancer.  The
stinging became a biting.  A thousand tiny mechanical jaws munching, 
processing his soft flesh. 

He was aware of a high, womanly scream.  He knew it was his own voice,
made shrill by the pain. 

Valentine didn't hesitate.  He aimed his gun and thumbed the switch to
“Flame”. 

Suddenly, Kovcheck's leg was on fire. Bizarrely he was grateful.  The
nano-tec was dying around him, falling like burning snow. 

Valentine crouched down, patting the flames dead on his fatigues.  Where
Kovcheck's foot had been there was only a black, cauterized stump, the 
charred bone poking through like a pointing finger. 

Valentine gripped him underneath the arms and pulled him onto the
skimmer. 

‘We're nearly there, buddy.  Home free.' 

Through the pain, Kovcheck could see the doorway of the research base. 
There was movement there.  The scientist again, running out of the 
darkness.  The man was lifting the rifle again, getting ready to aim. 

He tried to shout a warning, but found he had no strength left.  He
looked down and saw the red spot of an infrared sight dance across his 
chest. 

There was a roar and the sky erupted.  The hi-ex had went off and Saxa
Vord leaped into the air.  The scientist flew headlong onto the long 
grass, pulling the trigger as he landed.  Kovcheck saw the shot go 
wide, off into the sea. 

The last thing he saw as the side door closed was the scientist, face
down, a smoking wedge of concrete embedded in the back of his head. 

Somehow Kovcheck found the strength to smile... 

...He crushed his smoke out in the ashtray.  His hands were damp with
sweat; he could feel it clinging greasily to his forehead. 

Four years ago and a thousand miles away, and yet the memory still held
power. 

He looked down at his left leg, the carbon and steel alloy that the
company had paid for.  It had hurt at first but he had gotten used to 
it, and in time...why, it was almost as though it had never happened. 

He picked up the metal bin and placed it on the floor next to him.  He
tore the pages he had just read out of the note book and crumpled them 
up.  Then, he took a match and lit it, watching the flame quiver in the 
still air.  He dropped it into the bin. 

The pages blackened and curled.  He could go on now, he thought.  Live
in the world, instead of his head. 

He poured a cup of cold coffee onto the ashes and went down the stairs. 

His wife was in the kitchen chopping vegetables.  He went silently to
her and slipped his arms around her waist.  She gave a jump, 
unaccustomed to spontaneous displays of affection. 

‘Bill!  Jeez you scared me half to death!' 

He kissed her on the cheek and went to the door.  She looked at him
strangely. 

‘Are you alright?' she asked.  ‘You seem...different somehow.' 

He smiled.  ‘I'm fine.  Everything's fine.' 

He lifted his jacket from the hook by the door and slipped it on.  ‘I
think I'll take some air.' 

She watched through the window as he jogged to the kids.  He reached
down and picked up a pile of leaves, dumping them on the kid's heads.  
They squealed with pleasure and chased him. 

Somewhere in the distance there was a flat crack.  The glowing blur of a
tracer pierced the air.  Kovcheck barely had time to look up before it 
smashed into his chest. 

He lay on the ground listening to the screams of his children.  He heard
the door open and then the scrunch of leaves as his wife ran towards 
him. 

He gazed up at her hazy silhouette. 

He coughed up a gout of blood and said: ‘This one's got my name on it.' 

THE END. 


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