David Gerrold: A Rage for Revenge

The kid said, "Sir-?"

"Shut the fuck up." I was getting angry. On a hunch, I shouted, "Half of being smart is knowing what you're dumb at!"

The spider thought about that one too. "Password accepted." Right. It was worse than I thought. The spider recognized everything as a password. But when the accepted phrase didn't match up with the phrase stored in its memory, it had to start all over. It would have been funny-if there weren't two lives at stake.

"What is the password?"

An unlikely thought occurred to me. No, it was a very stupid idea. Still . . .

I called out to the spider, "There was a young man named O'Quinn-" and took a step backward.

"Password accepted. What is the password?" Maybe, just maybe . . .

"With inordinate interest in skin!" I took another step backward. So did the kid. Sideways and backward. Away from the pack. The spider swiveled its cameras to follow us, but said only,' "Password accepted."

"His singular goal--" Sideways and backward. "What is the password?"

"When he found a hole .." Sideways-"Password accepted."

"Was to do what he could . . . to get in!" -and backward! It was working!

I glanced at the kid. His face was white. "Easy," I whispered. He gulped and nodded.

My phone asked, "What are you doing?"

I ignored it. How far back were the bushes? "There was a young fellow named Howard-" Dare I risk two steps? No. The spider took longer to accept this one. Maybe it knew someone named Howard? And why hadn't the monitor kicked in? "Who was thought to be magically powered-"

"Password accepted."

I glanced backward. Not too much farther. "His dick was so short-"

"Accepted."

"It looked like a wart-" One more step. I looked to the kid. "Get ready --- "

"What is the password?"

"But when it stood up, it just-" And touched the button on my wrist.

The backpack on the ground exploded. Two rockets smoked straight for the spider. It jerked around to face them. I didn't wait to see if they hit-I rolled backward and into the bushes. The kid was already ahead of me. We crashed through the trees

Behind us, something went off with a roar. A hammer of air slammed us forward. I heard the sound of a torch-the spider was roasting the backpack! And then a siren! It was coming after us!

We tumbled into the Jeep and screeched backward up the hill. "Grab the heavy-launcher!" The kid was already digging in the rear. I found a place to turn around and pointed the Jeep up the road.

"It's following us!" the kid screamed.

I glanced back. The spider was staggering unevenly across the slope with an uncertain, tentative gait. That spider should have flamed us instantly. Whoever had damaged it had bought us a chance. Its cameras were swiveling frantically back and forth, looking for a target, trying to lock on.

My phone was screaming in my ear; I pulled the headset off and tossed it aside. I put the Jeep on automatic-a dangerous thing to do; it probably wasn't smart enough to track a dirt road- swung into the back and grabbed the heavy-launcher from the kid. "Get out of the way."

I braced myself in the back of the Jeep and took careful aim at the spider. We bounced like a spring. I wished for a steady-sight laser. I had to give the rocket enough time to identify its target and lock on-I hoped to God the spider didn't find us first!

The green light came on. I squeezed the trigger.

The rocket escaped with a whooosh! It arced down the hill, zigzagging back and forth, only turning at the very last moment toward the target. The spider exploded. It disappeared in three-one right after the other-flowering bursts of orange flame, each one larger than the last, all curling into a mushrooming billow of greasy black smoke. We could feel the heat and blast from here. Pebbles and dirt and hot oil spattered down around us.

The Jeep was bumping suddenly across the grass. It had lost the road. I turned to leap forward, but the kid was ahead of me. He was already sliding down into the seat, taking over the controls and bringing us to a bouncing, spring-banging stop.

We sat there for a moment, just breathing hard and wondering at the surprise of still being alive. The day was bright and cold. The air smelled suddenly sweet-even sweeter for the oily scent of the burning spider behind us.

"Towered?" the kid asked. "The last word is towered?"

I looked over at him.

"Get out of the car," I said.

"Huh?"

"Get out of the car!"

"I don't understand-"

I swung myself over the side of the Jeep, walked around to the driver's side, grabbed the kid by the shirt, and pulled him out of ' his seat as hard as I could. I jerked him rudely across the ground and slammed him hard up against the broken wall of some ; forgotten building. I held him there-my knee braced between his 9 legs, my wrist across his throat, and the barrel of my gun up his left nostril-and lowered my voice. "Your stupidity nearly got us killed," I said. "I told you 'Don't move,' and you came crashing through the bushes like a boar in heat. I told you not to talk and you had to ask why, what was happening? That spider was half blind. We could have faded back into the bushes if you hadn't opened your mouth."

"We got away okay, didn't we-?" he gasped. "Please, Lieutenant, you're hurting me!"

I cocked the pistol and put my face very close to his. His eyes were round with terror. Good. I wanted him awake enough to hearl this. "Do you want to be my partner or my enemy?"

"Sir, Please-!"

I leaned on his throat a little harder. "Are you my partner or my enemy?"

"Part-ner," he croaked.

"Thank you." I eased my grip a little; he gasped for air. "So that means when I give an order, you're going to follow it. Right?"

He nodded. "Yes. Sir."

"Immediately-and without question. Right?" He gulped and swallowed and managed to nod. "Do you know why I'm telling you this?"

He shook his head. The sweat was beading on his brow. "Because I'm trying to save your life. I'm assuming, of course, that you are survival-driven. If I'm mistaken in this assumption, please tell me now so I can get out of your way. I promise I won't interfere. You want to die, that's fine by me. I like paperwork. It's nice and safe. But I won't have you endangering my life too."

"Yes . . . sir." His words came hard.

"You remember this and we'll get along just fine, Private. The next time I give you an order you're going to follow it as if your life depends on it-right? Because it does. Because if you don't follow my orders, I'll take your fucking head off, do you hear me?"

"Yessir!"

"And I'm not going to hear any more fucking questions either-isn't that also right? You don't have the right to ask them. You are lower than whale shit. The only answer you need is this one: 'Because I'm your superior officer and I say so.' Right?"

"Yessir!"

I let go of him and stepped back, reholstering my pistol. He hesitated, then started tucking his shirt back into his pants. He glared over at me, but didn't speak. There was hatred in his eyes.

"Go ahead, try it," I said. "I know what you're thinking. Go ahead. I don't want there to be any doubt."

He dropped his eyes. He still hated me, but he wasn't going to swing.

He came up at me suddenly, swinging with a roundhouse punch that would have knocked the wind out of me if I had still been there to receive it. I was already stepping back on one foot. I grabbed his arm and pulled, tripping him as he came. He sprawled flat in the dirt and skidded.

I walked over to him, kicked him gently to roll him over on his back, and offered him a hand. He refused it and sat up.

I grinned. "Want to try for two out of three?"

He shook his head.

I offered him my hand again. He refused it again and stood up by himself, brushing himself off. His expression was still smoldering.