The V.I.C.I. Diaries: Valley of the Damned (Part 8)

[DukeNukem 2417]

“And here I thought the House might actually stop making new versions of you after what happened to Alicia 5 in Singapore,” Major Tom muttered. “What exactly are you doing here, anyways?”

Alicia 6---kitted out in jean shorts and a tank top, rather than the House-standard bodysuits used for this type of field work---grinned. “Oh, y'know...the usual. Helping promote cooperation between agencies, working to promote the greater good....” She glanced over her shoulder at her fellow House gynoids, a few of whom began chanting “The greater good” in an intentionally-fake monotone.

“Shut it,” the Major snapped, turning his attention back to Alicia 6. “The House doesn't have a Matriarch---”

“They didn't need one to send me out here,” Alicia 6 countered, no longer smiling. “And before you ask why I'm out here after my last self died---I know. I know that she died, and I felt how she died. I remember her dying---that memory is part of me now. I felt her pain, and I felt the exact moment when she stopped functioning...and that's why I'm out here.” She pulled the Field Agent close; “You and I both know that Singapore wasn't the first time I died,” she whispered, “so stop trying to act like I can't handle this. Even if the House doesn't have a Matriarch or a Patriarch...”

The Major pulled away from her. “Your resolve is admirable, Alicia....but the House needs every---what?!”

“We have a problem,” Reaver muttered. “We're detecting fembot power signatures inside some of the buildings around here....and they're charging up.”

“How many?” Alicia 6 querried.

“Five or six in each---and how the hell did you even get here?”

“Same way we did, probably,” Oberon remarked. “And back to the matter at hand---”

A shot, fired from the building across the road, hit the ground near Oberon's feet.

Major Tom immediately dove for cover. “GET THE HELL OFF THE STREET!” he shouted. “EVERYONE GET OFF THE STREET NOW!”

“I don't think that was a fembot that just shot at us,” Alicia 6 stated. “I think Aaberg may have sent–-”

“GET OFF THE STREET, DAMNIT!”

“IN A MINUTE, TOMMY!” Alicia turned her attention back to Oberon; “I think we may be dealing with some of Aaberg's flunkies,” she continued. “The fembots' mental condition is so far degraded that they can barely even think---I have a feeling they won't be able to shoot at anything, especially not a bunch of Field Agents. Just trust me on this...”

Oberon smiled. “I never said I didn't trust you, Alicia.”

“Good call on your part, then---I'M GETTING OFF THE DAMN STREET, MAJOR!” Alicia rolled her eyes and hid behind a nearby trashcan. “One of these days, someone's going to need to teach him the art of patience...”

Guided by signals from Alicia and Oberon, the ALPA and House Agents moved into position near the windows of the closest building. “You're sure we're dealing with human attackers?” Reaver asked. “I could've sworn you picked up fembot power signatures in there earlier---” The blast of an illegally-charged pulser from inside shattered the window, prompting him to stop talking.

“Everyone, assume positions for standard breach 9942,” Major Tom called out. “ON MY MARK---”

The front door of the building was blown off its hinges, followed by a volley of gunfire.

“GET IN THERE! MOVE IT, MOVE IT, MOVE IT!” The Major nearly threw one of the Field Agents running past him into the building, screaming all the while. “GET IN THERE AND SECURE THE AREA! I DO NOT WANT ANYTHING GETTING OUT OF THAT BUILDING UNLESS---” A shot slammed into the tree next to his head. “Son of a bitch.....SOMEONE THROW ME A PULSER!”

Oberon chuckled. “I give him a sword, and he still prefers his way...”

“Save it for later,” Alicia recommended. “We need to secure that building---sitting here and arguing about what weapons to use isn't going to get anything done.”

Anything Oberon could've said as a reply was cut off by screaming from inside the building---someone (obviously one of the Field Agents, possibly even Major Tom himself) had apparently decided to charge in with the sword and just start swinging the thing like a berserker. “I'm thinking we should get in there before anyone gets an impromptu amputation,” the ALPA chairman mused. “Care to join me?”

“I was hoping you'd ask...”

Inside, the two immediately found themselves staring at a scene of utter carnage. Even with their training in the fine art of using melee weapons, the Field Agents had managed to demolish the vast majority of the room around them---furniture had been smashed and slashed, tables had been reduced to splinters, and massive gouges had been cut into walls from strikes and swings that had gone wide. Worse---as far as Oberon was concerned---Alicia's theory about human attackers had been proven correct; one couch had a smear of blood streaking across its surface, and closer inspection of a “weird object” inside a dustbin revealed that it was in fact a severed human hand.

“Guess Aaberg didn't care about sending his guys into a situation where they'd be losing limbs,” Alicia mused.

“Knowing him,” Oberon grimly replied, “he's more concerned about which guns they used in the fight...”

Upstairs, a torrent of profanity (and more furniture being broken) signaled that Major Tom was currently in a rather massive fight with someone. “Might as well see what all the fuss is about,” Oberon shrugged. “Ladies first...”

“I could say so many things about that line,” Alicia teased, “but---”

“DROP THE FUCKING GUN, YOU PIECE OF---NO! STAY AWAY FROM THE WINDOW---GET AWAY FROM THE G__DAMN WINDOW NOW!” Something on the second floor was hurled into the hallway, allowing Oberon and Alicia to see it hit the floor and “roll” for a few inches before splintering. “GET YOUR ASS AWAY FROM THE WINDOW RIGHT NOW, OR I'LL CUT OFF YOUR DAMN FEET! GET---damnit----GET IN HERE!”

Alicia arched an eyebrow. “Think we should help him out?”

“Definitely. OI, MAJOR! GIVE US A MINUTE AND---”

A Grecian urn (or a reproduction of one---it was hard to tell in the low light) hit the corridor wall at an angle that sent it tumbling down the stairs, prompting both Oberon and Alicia to move out of its way. “Let's go help the Major, then,” Oberon beamed, “shall we?”

“You and your weird sense of humor,” Alicia chuckled. “And this time, you go first.”

“Age before beauty, then,” Oberon quipped, taking the stairs. “Need a hand, Major? We heard a bit of a commotion downstairs---”

“JUST GET IN HERE AND KEEP THIS ASSHOLE FROM JUMPING OUT THE WINDOW, WILL YOU?!”

“No need for profanity.....we're on our way up.” Oberon sighed; “I guess he does need our help,” he muttered.

The conversation effectively came to a screeching halt as Alicia and Oberon both entered the room where Major Tom had been screaming---and found themselves face to face with the Major's opponent. Back at the compound in Dawley, she'd only been notable for the visor that covered the upper half of her face, as well as the rather incongruous nickname of “Blue-Eye”.

This time....it was rather easy to see that the name had been given as a cruel joke.

Both of the woman's eye sockets were completely empty, save for two glinting points of metal that, as Alicia realized, were connectors---most likely meant to hook up the visor she'd been known for to whatever was left of her optic nerves. “What the hell,” Alicia gasped, taking a step forward---and ducking out of the way just in time to avoid being smacked in the face by a flying plate. “I'm blind,” the woman taunted, “not deaf.” She hurled another plate at Oberon, who grabbed it before it came close to hitting him in the forehead; “So you're Aaberg's incursion force,” he mused. “I'd love to see who you brought in as backup---”

Alicia's shout of “LOOK OUT!” nearly came too late; Oberon only just dropped out of the way to avoid being smacked in the head by a nine-iron weilded by another of Aaberg's flunkies.

“And you must be the Whistler,” he intoned, dodging a second swing.

“Enough banter,” Alicia hissed, “just slap the cuffs on them!” She neatly dodged another thrown plate, only to be shoved aside by Major Tom. “All we need to do is detain them, Major,” she insisted, “we---”

“THE HELL WITH DETAINING THEM,” the Major shouted. “I nearly got thrown out a window by this bitch!”

Oberon---dodging another swing of the Whistler's nine-iron---stepped between the two before they could start punching each other. “If I may make a suggestion,” he offered, “we may be able to compromise---we can 'slap the cuffs' on them' and keep them here until we can get a few more people to secure the area. As it stands, the fembots have all been beaten--” He stopped mid-sentence, backhanding the Whistler before he could bring the nine-iron down on top of the ALPA Chairman's head. “As I was saying, the fembots outside have all been beaten, and we have no real incentive to stick around here other than making sure these two don't cause any more problems...we could easily just wait until a second team arrives, then leave these two with them.”

“That....actually makes a hell of a lot of sense,” Alicia reasoned. “Though you and I need to have a talk once we're done here---”

“And we will. Major....any objections?”

With one last glare at Blue-Eye, Major Tom shook his head.

“Good. Now, then...let's secure them---wouldn't want to stay out here too long, would we?”

Major Tom extracted a zip-tie from his belt; “You're sure the backup team will arrive quickly enough to keep them from being a problem?” he asked. “I mean, if they get loose and start tearing up the place---”

“They won't get loose,” Alicia assured him. “Even if they do, there's not a whole lot of places they can go...”

“Agreed. Besides, we're all here to keep them from being utter pillocks, so....no worries.” Oberon grinned.

For a few seconds, Major Tom glared at the ALPA chairman....after which time he finally nodded. “Just as long as they don't get away from us, and nobody tries to escape through the freaking window again, I don't have a problem with it.”

“Splendid. Now, then....let's make sure there aren't any other nasty surprises waiting for us outside, shall we?”
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As soon as she turned the corner, Vicki closed her eyes and stopped in her tracks.

“....and Boris was adamant that we---Agent Lawson, is something wrong?” Elena glanced back over her shoulder, confused. “What's the problem---”

“I'm being hit with another signal,” Vicki murmured. “I....I saw Faceless at the end of the hall.” Her eyes were still shut as she spoke, due to her not wanting to see the Butcher of Lake Gilmour materialize in front of her. “If you can pinpoint any signals hitting me....and maybe shut them off....it'd be a really big help....”

Elena nodded. “Just tell me what you need me to do, and---”

Something threw her against the wall.

“Elena, what's going on?! You have to talk to me here---”

“Sorry, Vicki,” Faceless' voice hissed, “but your friend's....out cold.” The brunette gynoid could almost sense the masked killer's presence behind her. “It seems that even in my...incapacitation....I can still pack quite a punch---”

“Except you didn't punch her,” Vicki countered. “You hijacked my RTG output and sent a shockwave in her direction, making her feel like she got punched when she tried to get close enough to me to break shut off your stupid signal.” She turned away, still keeping her eyes closed; “I don't know how you're doing all this from a hospital bed,” she added, “but it's not going to work---I'm not afraid of you, Faceless, and I never will be afraid of you again!”

Just to be on the safe side, though....

Even as Faceless' voice taunted her, Vicki ran an internal scan on herself and found that her RTG wasn't on the blink because of a signal---it was fluctuating because the area of the building she was in was experiencing a series of fluctuations of its own, possibly EMP-related. So he's still a huge liar, then....

“Bad news,CrazyMask,” she taunted, “I just found out the real reason why my RTG knocked out Elena---”

“And you won't do anything about it!” Faceless growled. “I'll break your body in half, Vicki---”

The brunette gynoid chuckled. “No. You won't. In fact, you won't be doing anything with me right now---”

Her sentence cut off as her head bowed, accompanied by a faint intonation of Shutting Down from somewhere inside her torso.

A few feet away, Elena struggled to her feet---the impact from the RTG shockwave hadn't knocked her out, as Vicki had feared, but it had scrambled her processors enough to keep her floored for a minute or two. One look at the frozen gynoid (and the flickering lights) told her all she needed to know about what had just happened while she was technically unconscious. “Clever girl....” Even as she limped towards Vicki (the impact against the floor had done more damage to her leg than her processors), Elena couldn't help but grin.

Slowly, carefully, she hauled the brunette gynoid through the corridor into another room, hoping that whatever Vicki had done to beat the random spikes in her RTG hadn't bricked her. “Don't fail me now, Lawson,” she muttered. “We're still in this....” Out in the hallway, the lights blazed forth one final time before dying. “Agent Lawson,” Elena whispered, “if you can hear me, please do something....Anton's waiting for us...” She felt as if she was about to cry....yet the brunette gynoid remained motionless.

“Vicki...please.....”

Though she didn't realize it initially, Elena's last, pleading phrase had actually done the trick.
------------------------------
Wake-up cycle initiated.
Activating V.I.C.I. ………. all systems activated.
RAM: OK ROM: OK
Bubble Memory Processors: Activated
Running full system scan……………………….
Scan complete. All systems functioning at 100% efficiency.
Reserve Battery charge level: 93.6%

The first sight that greeted Vicki as her eyes fluttered open was Elena Vlatko, looking equally panicked and worried. “Was it something I did?” she murmured, grinning.

Even that admittedly-goofy opening line was enough to snap Elena out of her funk; the Russian gynoid nearly crushed Vicki in a bearhug as she lifted her to a sitting position. “I thought you'd been damaged back in the corridor....what happened?”

“Another stupid signal,” the brunette gynoid admitted. “Fifth one so far today, actually.”

“You need to enhance your internal firewalls,” Elena suggested. “Otherwise those signals are going to keep cropping up, and you'll keep getting hit with the effects at the worst possible times.”

Vicki nodded as she let Elena help her to her feet. “I'm not even going to try arguing---not now, at least. We need to keep going until we get to Anton and sort this entire thing out, otherwise I have a feeling I'm going to hate what happens next.” Immediately, she noticed the darkened hallway; “Ah, did something happen while I was out?” she asked, more than a bit confused. “The last thing I remember was getting taunted by another one of Faceless' stupid ghost-things---”

“Rengold's been the one attacking you?!” Elena gasped.

“Sort of. He's still laid up in the emergency room---I'm going to assume you know the whole sordid story behind that, so I can skip the details---but the Maestro kitted him out with some weird....thing that allows him to use his brain like a super-router---linked directly to me, on account of some code he left in me. Long story.”

The Russian gynoid looked more puzzled than ever. “I can only imagine it is.”

“Trust me, it's too complicated to get into right now. The only part of it that's even remotely relevant to what's going on here is that Faceless left some code in me when he stabbed me in the head with a tricked-out blade, and I've seen him in hallucinations at least five times so far today. That little incident with my RTG spiking on me was the latest---and probably not the last---but it's not important now.” Vicki gave herself a quick once-over to make sure she hadn't been damaged. “Right now, we need to get to Anton and figure out how to hold off the rest of those fembots.”

Elena nodded her agreement. “The sooner we can get this over with---”

Somewhere down the hall, something (a gun?) went off.

“I think we have more immediate matters to tend to first. C'mon---someone might be in trouble.”

Hoping against hope that Anton hadn't been cornered by one of Aaberg's flunkies, Vicki led the way towards the sound of what might've been a gunshot. “None of those fembots had guns, did they?” Elena inquired. “I didn't notice any of them carrying weapons when we fought them....”

“Aaberg wouldn't hae given them anything that could be used against him,” Vicki replied. “Seeing as how the original idea was Hannsen's, I can almost guarantee that whatever we just heard wasn't a fembot....” ...which begs the question of what it is, since I don't want to run into a fight against something or someone I don't even know.

The two gynoids reached the room where the sound had originated---and were greeted with a scene of utter horror. It took a while for Vicki to remember where she'd seen the bound, kneeling figure before, which only made the realization that it was Aaron Cardwell all the more gut-wrenching.

Seeing Billy Jean holding the AMT Hardballer Longslide to Aaron's head really didn't help.

“Well, well, well,” the cowboy drawled, “if this ain't a suprise....I thought gettin' outta that hospital was the best thing to happen to me all week, but this---now this just takes the proverbial cake!” He chuckled derisively; “I knew that ALPO bullshit was gonna pay off 'soon as I got away from them so-called doctors tryin' ta stick me fulla tubes and shit,” he continued, “but I never---and I mean never---thought I'd see th' day when I found y'all atcha own damn HQ---with some much-needed assistance from this here yuppie!” He wrenched Aaron's arm, grinning as his captive screamed.

“Let him go,” Vicki warned. “or---”

''Or you'll what?!” Billy taunted. “Do me up like I did yer friend back in the UK? Y'all ain't armed, y'all ain't exactly in the position to be givin' me any demands, and y'all definitely ain't a match for a Longslide, 'specially with .454 Casull rounds.”

Elena shook her head. “We weren't talking about what we're going to do to you.”

“You probably didn't even notice the floor where you're standing has a metric ton of cracks in it,” Vicki added.

“And why should I give a damn about the floor?” Billy scoffed. “It ain't like---” His sentence was cut off by a rather ominous rumbling beneath him. “What....what the hell---”

Vicki's voice didn't falter, even as she noticed the panicked look on Aaron's face: “This part of the building has sustained heavy structural damage. If we don't get out of here within the next few minutes, you'll either get flattened by a falling bit of ceiling or impaled on rebar from the fall. Just let him go, and if none of us get killed in the next few minutes, we can settle this later---”

“I ain't lettin' NOBODY go,” Billy thundered. “You two are just gonna stand there and---”

The rumbling beneath the cowboy's feet got louder.

“Either you take our advice, and we all live,” Elena intoned, “or you can keep being a drama queen and---”

In an instant, Billy's aim shifted from Jason to the two gynoids in front of him. “I AIN'T NO G__DAMN QUEEN, YA HEAR ME?!” His shouts were just loud enough to be heard over the rumbling of the floor.

“Okay, you're not a queen,” Vicki acknowledged, “so just---” She felt Elena tap her on the shoulder; “We need to go,” she whispered, gesturing at the floor---and, more importantly, the massive cracks that had already begun spidering across the tile. “If we stay here even a second longer, we're going to end up crushed along with him!”

One of the .454 Casull rounds hit the floor near Vicki's feet before she could reply. “Y'ALL AIN'T GOIN' NOWHERE!” Billy screamed. “NOBODY FUCKIN' CALLS ME A QUEEN---”

His rambling was drowned out by the floor shifting beneath his feet, just as Vicki and Elena nearly fell over trying to avoid being caught up in the collapse of the room. None of them had even the slightest time to react before the floor buckled beneath them---Billy Jean's half of the room seemed to swallow itself, with massive sections of the floor pitching upwards and folding, mere seconds before the other half of the room caved in...with both Elena and Vicki plummeting into the room below.

Oh, scrap.....
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[DollSpace]

The higher they come, the further they fall.... Need more story. Now.

[Uhoh]

Something about thinking on your feet seems appropriate...