Justin Kemppainen - The Legend of Ivan

Three of my ribs gave way as he rammed his fist into my midsection. I dropped like a stone, wind knocked out and black spots dancing in my organic eye. On my knees, I saw a shadow overhead, and I rolled. Cain pounded his fist into the floor, not denting but this time punching through it. As his hand lay caught, I swept my leg, tripping him. With a heavy thud, Cain fell to the ground.

My opportunity: his exposed neck plate was there, waiting for me to strike. I jumped forward, swinging my hand in a chop.

Cain pulled his hand free and threw an uppercut. My vision exploded in stars as his fist connected with my chin. Four teeth shattered in my mouth along with my lower jaw, and I was hurled backward, half-conscious. I hardly noticed crashing through another desk and computer.

My vision pulsed, watching him approach in slow motion. Blood and bits of bone leaked out of my mouth, and agony resonated in several locations of my body. Yes, yes, yes! It’s going to be finished! the voice cried out in triumph. It appeared Dana’s ghost was pleased to see me losing.

I didn’t have enough. I couldn’t beat him. Even with the damage I’d done, he was still in prime condition. I tried to move as he stooped down. He seized my overcoat and hauled me up, holding me with one hand. “I think you’re about out of fight, Siddy-boy.”

Not yet. Using his arm as leverage and ignoring the splintering pain in my midsection, I jackknifed my body. Twisting backward, I kicked out with my metallic foot, connecting with his face and smashing his right synthetic eye.

With a roar, he released me and grasped at his face. I tried to roll away, but the best I could manage was to stumble and hunch over. I clutched my damaged ribs, wondering how much extra damage I did to the tissue through my maneuver.

Sparks issued from Cain’s broken eye, and his teeth bared angrily. All of the sluggish nature from the tranquilizer seemed to disappear behind his rage, and he spared no moment in charging.

Sliding underneath, I seized the wrist of his bent arm and pulled, dragging him again to the ground. As I did, the weakened metal of the twisted joint finally snapped, and I held in my hand an impromptu cudgel. Staggering again to my feet, I brought Cain’s arm down upon his head.

Hollow clangs resounded as I beat him with his own arm, striking with everything I had. Dents pounded into his body, and the force and ferocity of my attack kept him down, feebly trying to ward off further hits. Blackish fluid, his synthetic blood, dribbled from his mouth as I smashed the heavy club into his chest, over and over.

Cain laid on his back, dazed by the assault. I fell to my knees, reaching again to the overlapping plates. With a scream of my own rage and every ounce of strength, I pulled.

The entire shoulder plate wrenched free, and I stumbled. Pouncing upon opportunity, I swung my hand in a vicious chop toward the exposed inner plate.

My strike clanged off his lower shoulder as his good arm swept around my midsection. Pulling me close, he squeezed. Sensation disappeared in my lower body as I felt vertebrae crunching at the small of my back. I reared my head to try the headbutt with sonics trick again, but he tossed me to the side.

My legs wouldn’t move. I heaved myself over to his severed arm and grabbed it. I turned and swung wildly as he approached, but he seized the club and cast it away. I tried to fend him off, but he planted one foot on my chest and grabbed my metallic arm.

Grinning down at me, he said, “See how you like it.” With a wrenching twist, my prosthetic shoulder gave way, and he tore it loose without effort. For good measure, he brought his foot down on my chest, smashing more ribs and my sternum along with them. Blood sprayed from my mouth, and I knew then I had lost the fight.

Excellent, it’s time! the voice cackled with an eager tone.

He hit me, and bones broke. He hit me again, and more bones broke. I was dying, organs mashed, everything fading to a hazy gray. Cain rolled my husk over, and I felt his arm close over my face. He pulled me up and started to twist. My flesh gave way as he labored to remove my head.

I had one chance left. Only one thing remaining to save me.

Activate subrouti—

* Error*

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Assignment: n/a

Location: Dei Lucrii XVII

Report: Unit terminated.

Archivist Cain, three weeks after the murder of Sid, stood in the highest tower of the Keritas corporate headquarters on planet Ethra as the recording he pulled from Sid’s mind finished. Daylight spilled in through the full-sized windows, illuminating the enormous and lavish office. The Vice President of the company, Saul Zimmer, folded his arms as the display burst into static at Sid’s death.

“Was it necessary to show all of it? I’m a very busy man. I didn’t need to see you manhandle and brutalize the poor fool.”

Cain turned, gesturing with his remaining hand at the damage on his body. “I wanted you to fully understand how difficult this was. I need a full repair and the return of my weapon systems.” Cain held one hand against his head, which had been hurting nonstop since his fight with Sid.

“Yes, yes, whatever.” The Vice President waved a hand. “I can’t believe that pipsqueak Archivist gave you more trouble than Ivan did.”

“Ivan surrendered rather than risk the well-being of those pathetic former slaves.” Cain bared his teeth. “And considering how irritating he was, I’m tempted to return and blast the asteroid to fragments just for fun.”

Zimmer shook his head. “No, no. There’s no profit to such a waste of time and resources. Their hiding place means nothing to us.”

“What about Ivan?” Cain asked, rubbing the healing puncture wounds on his chin. “Have they discovered anything yet?”

The Vice President of Keritas bared his teeth. “Some. Not enough to piece together the system those idiots Calloway and Trevors used before he smashed their heads and the records, but they’re getting closer.”

“Trevors couldn’t help?”

“Not so far.” Zimmer shrugged. “Surprised as I was to find out he’s been scurrying around our tunnels for so many years, I don’t know if he’ll be able to contribute. His brains are so scrambled from the trauma and years of malnutrition. The doctors are going to try some procedures to see if they can bring something of him back, but I don’t have much hope for it. And Calloway… we sent him off to parts unknown. He’s long gone.”

Cain clanged a fist off of his metal chest. “I don’t see why advanced bone density and muscle improvement is better than full mechanics.”

“Hah!” Zimmer laughed, throwing a gesture at the damaged Archivist. “You’re living proof, you moron! And don’t think for one second Ivan couldn’t peel off each layer of your metallic hide and eat the shavings for breakfast. You got him because of his idiotic compassion. Besides,” he jabbed a finger into Cain’s chest, “you think there’s a market for people, even soldiers, wanting to be a freak like you? How about they be just as strong and fast, nearly as indestructible, and still as pretty as the day their mothers expelled them? Which one do you think they’ll go for?”

The Archivist didn’t respond, accustomed to his main employer’s surly attitude. Zimmer continued his rant about the advantages of human appearance with unbelievable quality of augmentation. “Even the anti-aug idiots on the rim don’t know the difference until their skulls decorate the wallpaper!”

Cain felt a twinge behind his left eye, the one not damaged in his fight, and he frowned. An image suddenly came to mind of Zimmer smashing through the glass, shocked and terrified as he plummeted out of sight.