Exterminator : The Dark Beneath

“To get back up to the shining world from there my guide and I went into that hidden tunnel, and following its path, we took no care to rest, but climbed: he first, then I-so far, through a round aperture I saw appear some of the beautiful things that Heaven bears, where we came forth, and once more saw the stars.”

―Dante Alighieri, Inferno

Jack leaned his back against the thick metal door and let himself slide down it in exhaustion, his leg screaming in agony. His HUD was filled with flashing red lights as his suit reported the damage, and his medical systems were struggling to cope with his injuries. He lungs ached, his shoulder and leg burned, and the injury on his back burned.

He could faintly hear things clawing on the door behind him, whilst an ominous scratching was working its way through the extraction vents set into the walls. The creatures wanted in, and he didn’t think even the sturdy Airlock would hold them for long.

“OK SAM, give me the butcher’s bill.”

“Suit systems are at 35 percent, with major damage to surface protective plating and under suit systems. Articulation systems remain functional thorough the majority of the suit, but efficiency is compromised, particularity in the left elbow and shoulder joints and the right leg. Reserves of medical compounds are low across the board, apart from stimulants and high-end painkillers, and on board water and food reserves are almost depleted. However, of main concern is the damage to the suit’s primary CPU housing. I’m afraid several of my subsystems have been damaged, and the power systems and housing of my memory bank is ruptured.”

“Are you ok?” Jack asked worriedly. If SAM went offline he was screwed...or more so then usual.

“I remain at 78% operational efficacy, but as my memory cores degrade I will lose increasing amounts of RAM, reducing my efficiency until I am forced to shut down. Approximately 2 hours after this insufficient power will remain to keep my virtual memory banks stable and I will lose the majority of my memories and settings. My subsystems will enable you to operate suit functions but at reduced efficacy.”

Jack frowned and tried to get his tired mind to work. If SAM’s memory banks shut down she’d lose the majority of her memory, effectively returning her to factory settings. She’d still be SAM, but without all the changes he’d made to her program, and the memories and learning she’d experienced. Basically the SAM he knew would die, and he couldn’t accept that.

“SAM, run a complete scan of the suit, the lance and any surviving gear on the MUTT and see if we can locate any memory or computing power to scavenge for you. If needs be we could transfer your program somewhere else and reload you when the suit is repaired.” He groaned and painfully rose to his feet, shuffling over to the battered frame of the MUTT. “In the mean time I’m going to patch up as much as I can with the repair cement before our guests break through.”

He triggered the suit to open and pulled himself free, immediately collapsing to one knee as his leg folded under his weight. He swore viciously and cradled it, rocking back and forth until the pain receded slightly.

His under suit was sticky on his left side from blood so he slowly and painfully pealed it back to reveal a long jagged cut from the top of his left deltoid that ran along his front, past his armpit and to his side, level with his bottom pectoral. The claw must have slipped between his arm and his chest piece and sliced through the thinner armour around the joint. How he’s missed it earlier when he applied the pressure bandages he didn’t know, perhaps the wound had clotted and his impromptu flying lesson into the bridge had ripped it open again. He painfully retrieved his rapidly diminishing med-kit from the MUTT and sprayed his wounds with synthskin, the spray-able polymer running out just as he finished covering the wound. He didn’t have anything better to treat it with but at least it should clot the wound and minimize infection, not that was his biggest concern at the moment as the sound of hammering and scratching was getting louder.

He swiftly used the last of the ceramic armour paste on the suit, patching the worst of its damage to give a reasonable approximation of a environmental seal, until he threw aside the squeezed out container in disgust. The suit should be fairly protected against atmospheric damage, but his under suit was full of holes, and his body wasn’t a lot better under it either. With no more repair nanites in the chest armour’s reserves he had to improves and used stripes of duct tape to cover the tears. He also wrapped tape around his knee and shoulder in a attempt to crudely bandage it, sweat beading his brow from the pain.

Finally he gave up on his repairs and sat down, giving himself a painkiller shot and leaning back to listen to the sound of hungry claws trying to get in from one side of the room, and the wind battering the outer airlock on the other. He couldn’t stay here much longer, either the creatures would get in, or he’d run out of supplies.

He needed to do something, so he sucked in a breath and pulled himself slowly to his feet . He wobbled for a moment before starting to look around the bare dark metal of the airlock for inspiration. A few crates lay in the corner covered in a heavy tarpaulin of some kind, but from the writing on their sides it was just full of old piping, too bulky to bother moving when the mine head closed.

He wasn’t getting out the way he came in, that was for sure. The walls were too thick to cut through, and the vents overhead to narrow for him to crawl through, even if he was willing to abandon the suit. It only left him one option.

“SAM” he said slowly into his Helmet” What’s the likelihood of the suit protecting me against the solar storm if I try and walk back to the ARC?”

There was silence for a moment as SAM calculated, although Jack thought his question might have the AI questioning his sanity.

“Given the damage sustained to the suit I would not recommend that course of action. The damage to the outer plating and under suit has greatly compromised its ability to block hard radiation and thermal energy. The helmet would protect your head sufficiently to avoid damage, but your torso, shoulders and arms would slowly suffer increasing levels of radiation burns. The damage to the under-suit and low levels of suit’s water reservoir would also lead to rapid onset of dehydration, along with symptoms approximating sunstroke. Also this action would further compromise the CPU cores ability to maintain my programming, reducing my remaining effective runtime.”

“Ok SAM, what’s the likelihood of making it back through the mines.” His AI was silent for a moment before replying, “I would hazard that to be minimal!”

Jack laughed at her reply. “What, you’re stumped and that’s your reply? You finally started using your conversational programs now of all times!”

“Well Jack, “ SAM replied, her voice simulating slight amusement, ”It seemed fitting, given the circumstances. Also my scans have completed, there are no reserves of computing equipment in our current inventory sufficiently to run me. However, I have discovered a anomaly with your DNI. It appears to have been upgraded with a significant amount of processing power and memory, although for what purpose I cannot say”

“What?” Jack said in surprise, forgetting his injuries as he sat up in alarm, triggering a bout of cursing as the pain hit, “why would my DNI need that, and why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I apologize, Jack, I have only just discovered this. The modifications are not recorded on the implant systems, and I had no reason to look before now. However, it does seem clear that during your last Cyber-clinic session this new DNI was implanted!”

Jack’s jaw dropped in shock. Why would the Doc modify his Direct Neural Interface like this, it made no sense? DNI’s were risky enough as it was, inserting an highly efficient nano-wiring and computing package into the back of the users skull to allow interfacing with a Exosuit. His old DNI contained a series of microprocessors and memory chips to let him interface with the suit, and even that had a long list of possible complications. Stuffing his head full of extra computing power was beyond risky, and he had no idea why the Doc would do such a thing.

His musings were interrupted by a particularly loud bang on the wall, which caused a rivet to shear from the plated metal and ting off the floor.

“OK SAM!” Jack grunted, standing up with a groan and stiffly moving back to the suit.”Looks like our time is up!”

He painfully stepped back into the suit and sealed it before doing a quick series of stretched in the armour to check its mobility. Content that his impromptu repairs where holding he walked to the crates and dragged the tarpaulin off the crates, pulling it over his upper body like a cloak. He didn’t hold much hope of the material blocking any radiation, but it might cut down on the heat and wind. His knee was painfully but usable, although at this point it was simpler to list his few body parts that weren’t causing him pain. It was a short list.

“SAM, fire up the MUTT!” he commanded, walking to the outer airlock door and wiping dust from the controls, happy to see that its systems contained enough power to open. He triggered it and moved to the centre of the room as with a thump the locks disengaged. A crack appeared at the bottom of the door and almost instantly the howling of the wind increased. The door began to pull up into the ceiling, blown sand already starting to force itself through the widening gap, accompanied by the harsh light of day. Jack winced and increased the opacity of his visor as more and more harsh light floored into the room. The wind raced around him, forming swirling dust devils as it deflected off the walls behind. His suit sensors flared as the heat hit, rocketing into the height 80’s even in the shade, and warning icons appeared informing him of increased radiation readings.

At last the door reached the ceiling above, allowing Jack to move forwards and look out over the valley. The airlock sat partially sheltered under an outcropping of rock with the concrete of the lift tower above it. Shifting dunes and rock spread before him in red wave, the wind picking up sand and dust to form almost a haze to lie across the landscape, but in the distance, above the dust, Jack could make out the pyramid of the ARC, sat atop the cliffs and out of the worst of the dust.

It was almost twenty kilometres away, a good trek at the best of times, but through the fury of the solar storm raining down from the sun over head, and with his suit in this condition it was tantamount to suicide. On the other hand, the threat of almost certain death by rat or cannibalism lay behind him. Given the choice, well, there wasn’t one really.

“OK SAM!” he muttered, staring over the desert to the ARC beyond and stepping out into the harsh daylight, “Let’s go home!“