In bound to the city of Ur

A million questions, and just as many memories floated past me. The VTOL craft whisked us down through valley’s and draws overgrown with massive pine and fir trees. It moved and looked like a shark in the water, but instead of pectoral and pelvis fins, it was powered by contained rotors that swiveled and adjusted almost independently when needed.

My mind swam with the events I’d been through. They had left me with a million questions, but with no microphone on my passenger’s helmet, I couldn’t easily talk to Rooker. He had no problem talking to me, however.

“We thought you were another Scavenger,” Rooker said apologetically.

Rooker said and folded me into a poncho liner to protect against the cold wind. Then I gave him a confused look and he added, “The Scavengers are former employees who went native, or local nationals who think they were ripped off somehow. Some of them have stolen combat frames from dead soldiers. It took them a while to figure out how to power them, but they found a way, and have been a pain in our ass ever since.”

I’d nodded, trying to take in what he was saying, but much of it was lost to my state of shock. The Yōkai-girl voice the drones, monster robot ants. It was all too much to take. For some reason, my instincts were screaming at me not to mention the AI to anyone.

While they weren’t uncommon, having one on board even without a helmet was something I’d never heard of. Maybe it was the upgrades, or the Yōkai Nanites, but either way I kept it to myself for now.

“We investigate any disturbance, even those outside of the quarantine zone. So, when we recorded a significant impact out here, we came to see what happened. The IFF tagged it as you, but I didn’t believe it.” He grinned a little more and dabbed at his nose.

“I sure didn’t expect the Tunneler. It was a long way from the mines. When I saw someone was fighting it, I knew it had to be you, Bro,” Rooker said.

“It looked like a giant ant,” I’d replied, but he just laughed.

“Yeah, a lot of things here aren’t what they seem. I don’t have a clue why it would attack you, but I’m just glad it wasn’t a Weaver. Those things are really nasty,” He grinned.

“We’ll get back to Ur and get you taken care of. You’re part of the Incorporated Defense Corps now. The IDC, so we can take care of you no problem,” he said.

“What’s a Tunneler Drone?” I yelled loud enough to be heard.

[Tunneler Drone: Cyber-Genetic organism. Derived from the standard Leaf Cutter Ant, the construction/ excavation model is widely used for colonization.]

My HUD informed me suddenly, but I brushed it away and tried to focus on Rooker as he spoke.

“Tunneler drones are insect like drones like the ones we saw in the Xuying Province. They were developed by our side, the British I think, or the Germans. Amazing tech, really. They were designed to be launched into space and deploy on Mars.

Once they hit the ground, they immediately burrow in and create tunnels and chambers. Basically, they build a city under the soil, and when we get there, we can just set a pressure dome over it, and fill it with atmosphere,” He grinned.

“Here, they were using them to help build the facility, but I’ve never heard of one going haywire. The techs will figure it out.”

After that, we’d flown without making conversation. My helmet was a passenger model, so I could hear, but they couldn’t hear me. Which was fine. I needed time to get my headspace in order.

[Notifications: You have unread notifications. Do you wish to review them now? Y/N]

I felt my irritation flare, these HUD notices were a real pain, but perhaps the best way to keep them from popping up during a fight was to deal with them.

Glancing around, I could tell most of the troops were in their own heads, either their own HUDs or perhaps more pleasant memories.

The hot butch girl was licking her full lips, tonging chapped spots and lightly in a way no one would find seductive, and yet the smaller witty male was watching her like she was trying to entice him. Or maybe he was just staring off into space dreamily, who knows with men?

“I better deal with this,” I thought and focused on the [Y] icon.

[You hit Corrupted Tunneler for 5% damage]

[You hit Corrupted Tunneler for 17% damage]

[You received 5% damage from blunt force trauma. Seek medical attention]

The information rushed into my vision first three, then dozens of other notices. My fall, my flip, bashing Rooker in the face, it was all laid out there in streams of code.

“Its too much, I need a general view,” I thought and suddenly a page overlay popped up showing a status screen.

“This looks like a gamer character sheet,” I thought as I took it all in.

Everything was there. “What the fuck?” I said with surprise, and my words caught the witty one, Mahoney’s attention for a moment. Then he smiled at me lightly and went back looking at the butch female.

When I said everything where there, I mean they had WAY too much information on me.

My military career was listed, including my time served. My weight was on there as well, but clearly wrong, there was no way I weighed that much, clearly that was a mistake, but my height, nationality, high school grade point average, also a mistake. Really, I swear.

Blinking it all away, I focused on one section at a time.

On the right of the screen, six boxes stood out, each with another box inside it in the lower left corner.

[Strength: 7] + [Aug Str: 10]

[Total STR 17]

[Dexterity 5] + [Aug Dex: -2]

[Total Dex: 3]

[Stamina: 9] + [Aug Stm: 10]

[Total STM 19]

[Intelligence: 5] + [Ancillary Intelligence: X]

[Technology: X] + [Sync Rate: 6%]

[Tech mastery: 2]

[Charisma: 6]

“Intelligence five?” I complained a little too loudly, then glanced around to see who heard me. Satisfied no one was paying attention I looked back at the screen.

“Intelligence at level five is actually pretty normal,” the voice in head remarked, then added, “don’t worry about it, I know everything you’ll never look stupid again.”

“I don’t look stupid!” I said loud enough to get Mahoney’s attention and prove myself wrong about looking stupid once again.

Mahoney once more looked away, then glanced at me and then intentionally down. I needed to watch myself or they would all think I was nuts.

“Your attributes screen lists your current status for both your personal physical disposition and your augmented addition. Your total strength, for example shows your personal strength and your War Frame’s strength. With your War Frame you are current about the same strength as small dock side cargo loader. Lift capacity of about 453.5923 kilograms depending on current leverage,” she said.

“I’m pretty bad ass,” I said, feeling a little smug.

“You are currently at level 2. All that strength is great, but your dexterity is substandard by a considerable amount. While your upper body is naturally okay, your lower body is insufficient. Adding in your exceptionally sync rate, also-“

“Yeah, I get it,” I growled and blinked away my HUD.

“You currently are comparable to a toddler, while the surrounding team are Olympic athletes. However, that will change rapidly as your sync rate improves,” She said blandly.

“Once I get repaired?” I asked, but the snarky AI paused a beat longer than she should have.

“Repairs will greatly enhance your attributes, but you will also need to cultivate your sync rate. Aligning your intention with your frame’s response is much like learning to do new acrobatics, and your body also has to become agile enough to handle the frame’s ability,” she said sounding board and a little condescending.

“Hey, fuck off, I’m new here,” I said and once more got Mahoney’s attention, and this time Rooker’s as well so I made a show of looking out at the countryside.

We raced close to ground level just a few meters above the larger hangers. I didn’t need to be told that the low elevation would help to keep us from being visually tracked. To anyone on the ground it would just be an approaching noise, then a brief fly over, and we’d be gone.

[Ruins: military Forward Operations Base]

The sprawl of loosely connected prefabricated buildings, hangers, warehouses and Quonset buildings was eerie to say the least. All over the detritus of a once fully operational advanced forward operations base could be seen even if anything useful had long been stripped out.

Below me, I could see cement barriers that clearly marked what used to be restricted driving routs. Most of them were pockmarked with the signs of battle, some destroyed. Even the miles of barbed wire fence were now just a breeched reminder of the high level of security that once defined the space.

It was odd seeing a place where once so many people lived, tens of thousands in orderly surroundings, now decimated. The signs of former human inhabitance were everywhere. Plastic drinking bottles were strewn about, as were other things like old air-conditioning units, and even a bright a bright red vacuum cleaner.

At first, I thought there was no way anyone could live in that space, until I saw the first child standing frozen with fear and awe in the open. He reminded me of a rabbit for some reason. Wide eyed, a cup of fluid draining to the ground as he watched us pass.

My gaze returned forward just as we crested a large steel hanger and I marveled at the massive cloud bank crowned the mountain that loomed before us. Just inside the bank I could see the edges of the city made of a dilapidated collection of cargo barges and boxes, appeared around the base mountain.

All around it strobed warning beacons. As we got closer, the illumination of floodlights and the lights of the city became more obvious. “Just how big is that?” I said in awe, and apparently my voice prompted the HUD in my vision.

[The City of Ur: Tahua Fog Farm, height 325 meters tall, 2043 meters long.]

My jaw dropped as the mountain was artificially illuminated in my HUD. From bottom to top, every valley draw and ridgeline was covered in a blanket of finely weaved cobweb like structures. An involuntary shiver ran over me as I remembered images of Australia’s spider invasions, where whole forests and fields could be covered in web. This was a macro version of that horror, but everything below it looked deforested and dead.

Amping up my magnification, I could see that like cobwebs there were tears and snags in it from place to place. It was almost like some giant child ran around poking holes in it with a stick, but I realized they were blast or fire marks. Yet even as I watched, small creeping spider like creatures were teaming over the breeches and in the process of repairing the damage.

I turned to ask Rooker what the hell a fog farm was, but the propeller wash made it impossible. However, seeing in my interest in it, his voice came over my headset.

“Ur, is an Innovation zone that has the population of a small city. Around fifty thousand people when we first set up, fewer now.” SSG Rooker yelled over the din of the VTOL blades.

“But we are fighting terrorists, scavengers, and even our own people can’t always be trusted. Right now, even the skies are being secured against attacks. We have an IFF code linked, but without it…” He brought his hands together and burst them apart to show an explosion would result.

“The Fog Farm is the only thing keeping the project afloat right now. It captures water from the fog, about two billion gallons of water is being processed or in hold at anyone time. Right now, we are pushing enough water through our conduits to create enough power to run the city.” He yelled, and I couldn’t help but to be fascinated.

“Like a sky based hydroelectric damn, but oppressive and gloomy?” I inquired.

Rooker flashed me a grin and raised his hand out flat before tilting it back and forth like scales being equalized. “Kinda, sorta, not really.” He said.

I shot him another look because of course that wasn’t even a little helpful.

“It also feeds the hydroponic farms inside the mountain. That’s why we need so much water. But where you have water and wind, you can generate power. It’s the key to mining the Vermillion Ore. It’s everything to our survival here, so we protect it. We can’t expand with the terrorist attacks, so we have to stay close to the farm,” Rooker explained.

Spider web fog nets, giant ant’s building colonies under our feet, the whole thing sounded like a bar sci-fi movie waiting to happen.

As we neared, the temperature dropped dramatically. A shiver ran through me as I watched the mist swirling, shifting above the city. That thing had to be bigger than the tallest dams, longer than the longest ones on record. The city was like a splash of bird droppings on a windshield, next to that Fog Farm. Our compound was the bright white light in the middle of it all.

The presence of the flying VTOLs and armed drones couldn’t be missed either. Everything about it screamed high security. The setup was making my nerves stand on end. The compound was walled. Not just some gate or fence, but a huge, manned wall, with patrols, search lights and everything. I just couldn’t tell if it was to keep something out, or to keep people in.

“That’s what they call an Innovation Zone?” I yelled back, but he pointed to his ear like he couldn’t hear me. “What the hell is Vermillion?”

[Vermillion Ore: Classified]

My HUD informed me, but the classified classification surprised me. Clearly, everyone around here knew what it was.

“We’ll land in a few minutes. You’ll get a brief by Colonel Garshack soon after,” Rooker told me.

That name rang a bell. Garshack was the guy I’d met when I signed on, but I thought he was more of an old war fighter relegated to the office. What the hell was he doing here?

The landing pads were away from the main city. It was off in a corner that had a second layer of protection, a three-layer deep electric razor wire fence and automated turrets. The place was more secure than most military bases.

“Missile at 7 O’clock.” A man said in a voice that was way too calm, considering we were taking fire.

“Slide right and clime!”

“Slide right and clime!”

To our right something exploded, and the aircraft immediately slid right and climbed.

“Hold on!” The pilot yelled back at us, and the acceleration pinned me to the back of my seat.

Warning lights were flashing up front in the cockpit, and the gunners struggled to lock their guns to avoid getting smashed against them. As I watched, one lost control, his weapon swinging around to bash him in the helmet. Then a flash filled the night, and I could see smoke trailing away behind us.

“Just flares!” Rooker yelled and slid his hand into his body armor’s side pocket. Then, with a smile, Rooker sat back like he was on a mildly enjoyable ride. Shrugging, he pulled out a hard candy and popped a purple one into his mouth. “Want a Jolly Rancher? I have Watermelon and Green Apple. Sorry I’m all out of Grape.”