Yes, oh son of Abe, I am going to write more.
Much more.
Mwu-hahahahahaaaa! Now, my evil laugh of the day complete, I shall proceed with the next chapter.
Ian
The next two hours were excrutiating. From the control room, Ms. Fletcher issued one order after another. I ran about the square kilometer of terrain, blasting a target here, locating a weapon cache there. I realized how detailed the environment was, from the thick pine-needle covering in the grove to the shallow creek, to the foxholes and trenches pockmarking the dirt area. But I had little time to think about anything besides the next set of orders, the position of the well-laid booby-traps all around me, and the pain screaming through my nerves from my weakened and atrophied muscles. My arms and legs felt like guitar strings stretched nearly to the point of snapping. But I knew there would be no rest, only another dire warning if I stopped. As long as Ms. Fletcher had her robots' weapons trained on Lyra, she held the cards.
"Last mission for today," she said on the intercom. "You've picked up basic field techniques very quickly, but now let's see how you fare in simulated combat."
One of the ground panels uprooted itself and slid aside, revealing real dirt and grass roots packed on top of a fine metal mesh. From the space underneath rose a rack on which a bizzare suit was lain out. It was made of some high-impact synthetic fabric, like the now woefully out-of-date kevlar. There were small flexible sensor panels covering it from the boots up. There was an army helmet outfitted in a similar fashion.
"Put it on."
I did so, finding it remarkably light and comfortable. It had obviously been tailored for me.
"Now meet your opponent."
Another floor panel slid aside, and a grey pillar rose slowly. On it was a version of one of the black guard robots, this one sleeker and thinner. The back compartment opened, and three thick arms emerged, each holding a small laser.
"This model was specially designed as a training partner. It is sleeker, faster, more agile, and much more intelligent. As you no doubt noticed, each of it's secondary arms is outfitted with a small pulse laser. The beams from these lasers, when received by the sensors on your suit, cause the suit to send an electrical shock to an isolated area of your body. I think this calls for a demonstration. Training Unit 01, fire a three-second burst at the target's right foot."
One of the robot's arms whirred into position and fired a short succession of laser bursts. The reaction was instantaneous: an unbearable searing spasm of pain roared through my foot. The pain lasted only as long as the laser touched the sensor, but by the time the beam stopped I was already crouching, gasping for breath.
"How long do you plan to keep sending electrical currents through my body?!" I shouted.
"Suck it up. Now, I will give you a two-minute head start. I recommend taking advantage of it. Begin."
I stood up and ran for the dirt area, hoping to lose the robot in the hills and trenches. I had put several hills between myself and the robot when Ms. Fletcher's voice echoed through the room:
"Time's up."
Within a matter of seconds I heard a furious whirring, accompanied by a churning and spattering sound. Suddenly the robot flew off the crest of the hill behind me, the treads flinging dirt several feet behind it. I fired a volley of bullets at it, but they pinged off harmlessly, leaving only small scratches and dents. Seeing that the bullets had almost no effect, I stood completely still as the robot approached me. Without warning it lifted all three lasers and shot several bursts. I dodged most of them, but one caught my left upper arm.
"Gaahhck!" I clenched my teeth, trying to fight through the pain. Lasers still raised, the robot rushed at me. At the last possible second, I took a step back and dropped neatly into the trench behind me. The robot flew overhead a split second later, spattering the top of my helmet with dirt. I twisted and sprung up, yelling and firing. The robot was already in mid-turn, with it's right flank turned to me. The bullets had slightly more effect on it's flank, but still not enough to slow it down. However, one wild shot hit one of the lasers, which exploded in a flash of light and a spray of glass and flaming gas. The robot turned it's forward-slung head and looked briefly at the twisted stub of crackling live wires at the end of it's arm, then turned on me with an air of anger and malicious intent.
I took off running along the trench, but now rather than protecting me it trapped me. The robot followed close behind, firing nonstop. A blast hit me in the back, and I somersaulted briefly in the dirt before springing back up in one fluid motion. I took off again, fueled by the fear that this robot would not relent in it's painful attack.
A small step-ladder was set against the trench wall ahead. I used it like a launching board to launch myself up and over the wall of the trench, not once ceasing the movement of my legs. The robot continued to blast away, but then it stopped. I turned to see what had caused this momentary cease-fire.
The two remaining lasers were glowing red-hot. The robot stood patiently, waiting for them to cool down.
I'm not going to give it the chance, I thought. I fired a sustained burst of ballista from the gun, the recoil causing it to spray wildly. Despite the wild aim, it worked. One of the lasers, already close to exploding, was hit and erupted like a pressure bomb. The explosion blackened the robot's side and face. A shard of metal clipped the one remaining laser, and it started to spin like an out-of-control top, firing constantly. Several of the beams hit my chest and head before the robot switched it off. A crack had appeared in it, through which heated helium blasted.
"There," I said. "It's disaabled."
"Not yet, it isn't," Ms. Fletcher said.
The smaller secondary arms detached themselves, and lay sparking and smoldering and spewing gases on the dirt. The robot now flexed it's bulky main arms.
"You've got to be kidding me!" I said.
"There are no jokes in this business," she said.
The robot advanced. I started running once again, but I was beginning to tire from the constant dashing. There was no way I could outrun this thing, even in my best shape. Suddenly a booby-trap sprang up in front of me: a small electric fence. I leaped over it as it rose, clearing it by centimeters. The robot simply drove through it, crushing it to the ground. I had avoided that one, but I was getting careless in my dogged state.
Suddenly there was a high-pitched whirring sound behind me, like a wire rapidly being extended. I turned just in time to see one of the long three-fingered hands flying towards me. It had somehow been launched from the wrist, tethered to the robot by a thick cord. I ducked, and it knocked hard against my helmet, sending me sprawling on the grass. The robot passed by me, then circled back. It slowed down and began rumbling and clanking towards me. I squeezed the trigger of the assault rifle, but it made only a hollow clinking sound. Having believed I had won, I had carelessly neglected to switch clips after destroying the lasers. Now there was no time to reload. I stood up and faced the robot. I instinctively ducked again, and it brought it's hands together where my arms had just been.
Wedging the gun under it's tread array, I pushed on it with all my weight. Slowly, incredulously, almost comically, the robot tipped over backwards. It landed with a heavy thud, crushing the small back compartment. Now having the advantage, I quickly reloaded. As it ponderously struggled it's way up, I brought the gun to it's head and emptied the entire clip practically at point-blank range. The metal shielding of the robot face gradually dented in, finally rupturing and allowing the bullets to slice through the wiring and the central computer. The robot finally collapsed. I stood over it, panting.
"
Now it's disarmed," Ms. Fletcher said jovially.