Let me define "a few days."
When I said a few days before, I intended for it to mean two or three days.
But it turns out that "a few days" is, in reality, fifteen days! Whaddya know?
Anywho, the long-awaited return of Dante's Oddysee!
Chapter 25
So, it was off to the armory. Bingo.
Once inside, Rubb outfitted me with all the bells and whistles. Blitzpacker, extra-industrial strength armor, infrared goggles, and the finest Pants a slig could hope to wear.
Something in my slig mind felt calm … elated. I think back now, and think that the slig in me was enjoying this power, this sense of control, this knowledge that I could take a life with such little effort.
But … not quite yet. There was a plan to consider.
So, casually, as Rubb was fastening the back of my armor, I asked him: “Do we have any grenades lying around?”
Rubb shrugged. “Well, duh. This is the armory, right? Hang on, I’ll find you a grenade launcher.”
Meanwhile, I heard the PA blare to life overhead. The whine was immense, but it soon passed, and Cosmo’s voice was broadcast across the valley.
Exactly as planned. My reinforcements knew this as the sign to prepare.
Rubb came up with a small harness. It looked like a flying slig harness, but with no propellers.
“Okay, Branch, I’ll clip this to your back, then I’ll show you how to work it.” He continued to speak as he hooked it up. “Its design is based on a slig’s flying harness, as I am sure you’ve noticed. There is a little button on your right hand to fire the grenades, which I will wire into your palm. Your left hand will have a dial that controls the distance it will be thrown.
“There is a failsafe, of course, in case you fire by accident: you’ll need to pull a lever on the harness in order for the grenades to fire when you press the trigger. The lever, you’ll notice—” he rattled a lever on my left side “—is right here.”
Rubb stood up and admired his work. Then, he attached a screen over my eyepiece.
“When the grenades are armed, this screen will activate. You’ll see crosshairs and readings to determine the point of impact. It takes some getting used to, so be careful not to blow yourself up.”
When he was done, I was a regular sized slig wearing two layers of armor, a grenade harness, carrying a Blitzpacker, and wearing blazing red eyepieces.
Pretty sweet.
But now I had to eliminate Rubb. He had seen me come out of the cave, and already suspected me a little.
But it had to look like an accident.
Rubb decided it would be okay for him to take a bigger gun for himself while I was admiring my new suit. I noticed, of course. I slowly and carefully pulled the small lever on my side, arming the grenade launcher. The screen on my eyepiece flashed on, and I saw green crosshairs in the center of my vision. A reading on the left told me how far away it was aiming. I figured Rubb was a good ten feet away. Well within range.
Rubb turned to me carrying a large gun. It was no Blitzpacker, but it was still impressive. “You ready to go onstage?” he asked.
“You bet.” Good. My nervousness wasn’t showing in my voice. “Hey, uh, Rubb, how exactly did you say I fired grenades? My mind is slippery this morning.”
Distractions. I was turning the dial to adjust my aim.
Rubb sighed. “Dude, you have to arm it by pulling the lever, and then push the button on your hand.”
“Oh, so I, like, make a fist?” Almost time.
“Yeah, but be careful. If you don’t pull the failsafe, there’s a one in twenty chance the grenade will detonate in your harness.”
Gee, if he had told me sooner, I thought. Still, it was good to know.
“Anyways, Branch, we’d better get moving.”
I nodded. “You bet.”
I flashed a thumbs up in his direction. My fingers pressed the button with liquid ease.
I heard a small pop, and watched Rubb’s slig face drop in horror.
I saw a grenade launched from over my head. It flew silently towards Rubb, who was too shocked to react. When he caught on, he turned and uttered a small cry (it may have been him calling for help).
But the grenade landed at the bottom of his pants. It exploded on impact.
Twisted metal and hunks of meat ripped away from the spot of the explosion. Rubb’s new gun clattered to my feet in a twisted, broken heap.
I laughed.
This was going to be interesting.
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