"You did what?" Sheriff Melissa stamped her walking stick so hard into the ground, she was sure that it was going to snap. But it held firm, unlike her calm.
"I, er, let them into the training ground" Pederson was sat sprawled against the chain-link fence that wound its way around the Department's grounds.
"Why?" exasperation.
"The woman, Harmony, she said she could do a lap of the field with, er..."
"Go on"
"...me over her shoulder" he couldn't look her in the eye as he admitted this.
"Dammit Pederson" it was almost too dumb to be true. Melissa knew the young constable wasn't the brightest spark in the Wastes, but he had at least shown signs of competency in the past. But then Samson had started causing trouble. Manipulating, like he does the idiots on the council.
"Sorry Sheriff" head still bowed
"So what was Samson doing while you were getting your lift?"
"Not sure Sheriff. Harmony dropped me on the far side of the grounds. Said that I was heavier than she thought"
"Could he have, perchance, been in the confiscated property section?" the locks were still in place, they were what she had checked first when made aware of Pederson's indiscretion. But the hair, the hair was broken. It was an old trick that an even older friend of hers had taught her many years ago. Stick a hair across the gap in a door to see if anyone had entered it in your absence.
"I don't think so, boss. He was over by the main building being sick"
Melissa frowned "There wasn't any sick over there" the small footprints in the dirt at the rear of the main building had caught her eye on the way over to grill Pederson. It made sense to her now; Samson casing the joint, trying to find a way inside.
"No Sheriff" Pederson brightened a little "I knew you'd hate to see sick all over the place, so I, er..." his face dropped again as the genius logic of the previous night morphed into the idiotic move of the cold light of day.
"You er did what?"
"Gave him the key to the Department building to use the loo there. Drakk" he put his head in his hands.
Melissa raised her walking stick in the air, ready to strike the idiot Pederson across his stupid head, but she stopped. Instead she brought it back down, and knocked herself on the forehead. What an old fool she chastised herself. Preoccupied with keeping an eye on Samson she'd sent a young constable to monitor him, not considering that the manipulative degenerate wasteland explorer (or murderer as far as she was concerned) would use that against her. Pederson was only partly to blame for the mess at hand. She needed to clear it up.
"We need to work out what has gone missing. Get in there and cross check the stock check records" she indicated the confiscated property store with her walking stick
"Sure thing Sheriff" Pederson got to his feet unsteadily "Anything else?" he was obviously keen to please after his recent lapses in judgement.
"Who else is on duty today?"
"Jenkins, Donaldson and I think Maithwaite" he screwed up his eyes as he tried to remember. Melissa also suspected he was trying to stop the world spinning after getting to his feet.
"Ok, I want them in the briefing room in two hours along with a list of what's missing"
"Yes maam, er boss, er sheriff" he attempted a sort of salute, something the Department didn't routinely perform, but he seemed like he'd try anything to placate her. Melissa give a grim smile, then dismissed him with a nod of her head.
Just got to figure out what Samson is plotting now. Got a bad feeling. Melissa trudged back towards the main building.
Around 5 clicks from the deeply unhappy Sheriff, Samson and Harmony we back at the drop-factory. Knowing that their theft of the computer would not remain a secret for long, they'd left Doddington right after finishing with Pederson, the constable left sleeping in a patch of scrub at the edge of the training ground. This hurried exit from town had presented two main challenges. First, it was dark, really dark. No light pollution in the Wastes and a moon only a quarter full. Second, they were both drunk. Not Pederson level drunk, they'd been careful to pace themselves in order to complete their theft, but certainly a little worse for ware. Given the dangers of the Wastes, it was not somewhere you really wanted to be drunk and in the dark.
It had taken most of the night to travel the relatively short distance to the cliff face, therefore. Frequent stops to pore over Samson's map with their flashlights and to either relieve themselves or argue about some landmark or other. A couple of times they'd come close to wandering into a war-drone patrol zone. These mistakes were frightening, but also sobering, which helped them a little. They'd arrived at the cliff face just as the early dawn sun was thinking about peaking over the distant horizon. A hurried breakfast of whatever Samson had grabbed from the Department's kitchen -- grabbed whilst he was hunting for the key to the confiscated items lock up -- was forced down as they recovered their energies, before clambering up the ropes they'd left their on the previous visit.
The familiar clanking from the damaged guard drone greeted their arrival, less like an old friend and more like that slighting scary fellow that hung around when you were a kid. Back inside the factory, where the completed bi-pedal drones were stored hung from the ceiling, Samson set to unpacking the equipment that he'd stuffed in Harmony's ruck-sack the previous night.
"This gonna take long?" Harmony stretched out on a piece of bare floor near the entrance, yawning as she did so.
"Just got to hack a sophisticated piece of war technology to unleash a three metre tall roving monstrosity. Might be a couple of minutes or so" Samson replied sarcastically, unwrapping wires and interface boards as he did so.
The confiscated property store had proved to be rich pickings for Samson. He'd benefited from the greed of the council; the Sheriff had long campaigned for the contents of the store to be destroyed, but given the potential value of the increasingly scarce technology, the council had vetoed her, preferring to save it in the, so far forlorn, hope that one day there would be a way of unlocking its value should the war-drones ever be vanquished.
Samson had learnt his ways around pre-war technology from his mother. She'd rehabilitated and traded tech in the far north, where a relatively wide drone blind spot and a less risk averse town authority had tolerated the presence of such items. There was always a limit as to what such technology could achieve - there were no global networks to tap into any more and the drone onslaught had not left much technology in tact. Samson had seen a few pre-war documentaries in his time, and remembered laughing at the phrase "being bombed back to the stone age" when he had actually lived through such a time.
It took most of the morning to even work out a way of tapping into the factory systems, Samson fashioning a technological daisy chain of various components, each designed to convert or carry a signal that worked its way from the holo-computer deck to a small port he'd found on the underside of one of the drones.
"We're in" he happily exclaimed
"Wh....what?" Harmony drowsily stirred from the snooze she had been taking, but then remembered what was going on "In? Like you have us a drone"?
"Not exactly. In like I've actually managed to boot into a UI"
"UI?" Harmony scratched her head
"Don't worry abut it" Samson said, tapping away on the keyboard projected by the holo-computer onto his lap for a couple more seconds before stopping and frowning. "Hang on" he said, leaning closer to the screen projection and squinting "Scratch that about the UI, I'm in in"
"In in?"
"Uh-huh" he hit another key and the drone's legs dropped down to the ground with the whir of servo motors. Harmony yelped and jumped backwards, nearly tripping on some of the wreckage in the factory.
She quickly regained her balance and stepped toward Samson "You did it?"
"Think so"
"Wow Samson" she smiled "I mean it took long enough, but well done" she playfully punched his shoulder, Samson wincing.
"It, er, didn't take long enough" his voice was confused in intonation, deep frown across his brow.
"How'd you mean? We've been here all bloody morning"
"Yeah. In just a few hours I've interfaced two completely different technologies and overridden some of the best security protocols of their era"
"Are you fishing for complements or what?" Harmony laughed "Your ego not had enough massaging lately?"
"I'm really not. This is odd, to say the least"
"Geez Samson. What is it with you and second guessing yourself. You came here to hack a drone, you've done that. Let's go ride it to the council building. Can't wait to see the look on their faces. Especially that drakking prick who's nephew I gave a hiding"
"I need to do some more investigation on it first. Let's take it back to my place" Samson had sent another command to the drone, the wires connecting it to the factory dropping away.
"Your place" Harmony smiled playfully "This how you get all the ladies back there? Promise them a go on a massive ruddy war-drone?!" another hit of his shoulder, another shard of pain, this time mixed with embarrassment.
Melissa slowly stomped her way across the briefing room, span around and made the return journey, walking stick clacking as she did so. She tended to pace when anxious, a slight worn indentation in the wooden floor testament to all the previous times she'd felt the emotion at the Department. But this time felt like it was on another level of emotion all together.
"Run me through that again" she instructed, neither looking up or breaking step as she did so.
"An Apple ideck holo-computer; twelve cat 12 fibre cables; one usb4 pci converter; one pci sata 9G hub; two sata express usb combined..."
"Enough" Melissa held up one hand, while rubbing her temples with the other. Pederson dropped back into silence other than the slight shuffling of the stock-check papers from the confiscated property store he'd brought with him. "Jenkins, make sense of this for me" Melissa had a fair idea what was going on, but wanted another take on it.
"Er..." the gruff sergeant sounded unsure
"Start with what you know about the missing equipment" Melissa attempted to lead his train of thought out of the station of contemplation.
"The, er, holo deck, was the, er most modern kit we had. Smuggled out the Megatropolis maybe a decade ago, we got it on the raid up at the Brianson farm" he sounded more confident when talking about previous operations rather than technology.
"What might Samson want with it?" the steady clomp of the walking stick as Melissa paced
"Dunno. We never turned it on to see what it could do. Tech like that could bring a lot of heat" although they were indoors Jenkins still nodded upwards, Melissa understanding he meant the sky where the war-drones seek out their prey.
"So if he goes ahead and turns it on in town, what then?"
"Maybe, er, nothing?" Pederson ventured hopefully. His memories of the previous night were still foggy, but he did remember Samson explaining about the dead-zones of where the drones didn't patrol.
Melissa fixed him with a cold glare, she'd heard that limp argument about dead-zones as well. As if it was worth gambling with the town's future for the sake of playing with some useless technological anachronism of a corrupt former age. She wasn't prepared to countenance such traitorous talk, so turned her attention to the uncomfortable looking Jenkins. "So he's got a powerful computer and a load of wires, presumably to amplify its signal. What is he doing?"
"Not, er, sure, Sheriff" Jenkins was struggling, even with Melissa leading him.
"He knows I'm on to him. He's desperate. He's evil" she stated in a calmer tone than she was feeling.
Pederson frowned, the look caught the eye of Melissa "What now, constable" she almost snarled.
"It's just er, evil, Sheriff really? I know you don't get on but, er..." his voice trailed off under the weight of Melissa's scowl
"I wouldn't expect you to be able to give the evidence fair judgement, constable Pederson. You have been compromised by your choice to consort with the suspect" Pederson slowly slid down in his chair as Melissa spoke. "Now, where was I?" the Sheriff asked herself "Oh yes, the small matter of how we head off an imminent terrorist attack"
"You think he's going too...." Jenkins spoke, at long last his train of thought getting up to speed.
"Yes. I think he is going to attempt to trigger a drone attack on Doddington. We need to prevent that." she had stopped pacing, instead looming above the other Department agents to give her instructions "Donaldson, I want you to rouse all off duty members, have them here within half an hour. Maithewaite, head to the council, take Pederson with you and explain to them the threat at hand. Tell them to prepare the town for evacuation" she then looked down in contemplation, difficult decisions racing through her mind.
"And me Sheriff?" Jenkins asked tentatively after a few seconds.
Melissa sighed "You go and get the Department's gun"
Samson was still shaking.
He'd sat down in his rickety old armchair while Harmony attempted to fashion a hot drink from the various detritus scattered around the lean-too kitchen that had been crudely attached on the side of the small old barn that was his current residence on the outskirts of Doddington.
However, it wasn't the fear of what Harmony was going to rustle up that was causing him to shake. No, that owed to the recent journey back from the drop-factory. Getting the drone down and moving had continued to amaze him in his simplicity. With the holo-computer attached via the snaking series of wires he was able to command the machine from its storage in the factory out into the light of the midday sun. The length of the wires meant he had to stay relatively close to the machine, wandering alongside it while stabbing at various controls on the holographic user interface that he'd set the computer to project in front of him. Harmony had urged him to clamber on to its back, but he wasn't yet that confident that the machine would remain under his control once released from the factory. Or that was what he had told her, when in fact he was more than a little terrified of the machine.
They'd wandered back to the cliff face then realised the next issue; how to get the drone down. It was way too heavy to hoist down, even for Harmony's might. The only route off the cliff top was the old track. The old track that fell under the gaze of one of the airborne war-drones. Samson's theory was that the drone he had taken control of would be recognised as brethren of those lurking 5,000 metres above them. However, the major problem with testing that theory was that he would have to enter the patrol zone with his machine if he were be able to remain in control of it.
That was where the shaking came into it.
He'd hypothesized to Harmony that other drones would likely view him as a prisoner of some sort when they saw him so close to the captured machine. That had convinced neither of them, Harmony not helping his building nerves by asking if there had ever been a case of a war-drone taking someone prisoner. Samson had to admit he had never heard of such an occasion.
Before moving they'd thrown down some more phones onto the track, to try and work out the limit of the patrol zone. It hadn't taken many throws before a dark spot had been evident in the sky, Samson and Harmony rapidly retreating to the factory as the thud of the missile explosion splashed mud and rocks around them. They remained hidden as two of the active bi-pedal drones showed up to investigate. Samson was sure that one of them had looked towards his own drone with an articulated sensor arm, and his suspicion was proved correct when he ventured back to the hacked drone and attached computer, finding that one of the drone's sensor logs had recorded a burst of communication with the two investigating drones. He'd frowned at this, as it meant that the drones were able to communicate between each other wirelessly. So why couldn't humans? Must be separate systems at play, and while this explanation didn't completely satisfy his curiosity he reasoned that he'd be better able to investigate back at his house.
With enormous trepidation Samson had instructed the drone into the patrol zone. He wasn't sure exactly where it started--the thrown phones only gave a rough indication--so at each step forward of the drone he would stop, run back towards the factory and wait for a few moments. Nothing happened, so after about half an hour of this excruciatingly slow progress he decided to move a bit quicker. Deeper into the patrol zone he went with the drone, Harmony stood back close to the factory, occasionally yelling a piece of encouragement. He was still pausing at every fifth step forward or so to slowly scan the sky with his binoculars. However, he wasn't entirely sure what he'd do if an aerial drone appeared; far into the patrol zone as he was running back to the factory was no longer an option.
Down the old track they went, neither Harmony or the factory now in sight behind them. He'd agreed to meet Harmony back on the path below the cliff face in the relatively safety of the gap between patrol zones. Harmony would make quicker progress than his caution allowed, so he kept an eye out in front and his ears peeled for more of her raucous shouts. This made the silence of the path all the more oppressive.
A burst of communications had then popped onto the screen he had projected from the top of the computer, the device itself crudely taped to his chest. Samson couldn't make sense of it, but the drone was certainly in contact with something. A jolt of fear spiked up his spine, Samson turning away from the screen projection and towards the sky, binoculars at his eyes. To the east he saw it, a tiny black dot, but a tiny black dot rapidly getting bigger as the air-drone approached.
Samson swallowed nervously. More communications popped up on his display. Co-ordinates maybe, or some kind of verification. He attempted to make sense of them, but his hands were shaking too much to accurately type on the holographic keyboard floating in front of him. The dot grew bigger, the long wingspan of the drone now clearly visible. More communication between the two drones, more anxiousness from Samson.
Then there was a sound. Samson had been straining to try and hear the approach of a missile, although he knew that if he could hear it, then it was already too late. However, this wasn't the sound of a missile, just something nearly as destructive when the mood took.
Harmony.
Samson had never been so relieved to hear her dulcet tone. It was echoing around the narrow rocky path that he and the drone had made it to, which made working out what direction it came from hard. However, its rising volume implied she was close. More to the point, the edge of the patrol zone was close too.
Caution forgotten, Samson used a rocky outcrop as a step up and onto the back of his drone. The wires just about reached from the underside of the machine, so he peeled off the holo-computer from his chest and taped onto the lump in front of him housing most of the drone's sensors. With the screen projection back up he could see that the pace of communication was increasing. Either the two drones were trading old war stories, or something wasn't right. Time to make the get away, Samson sent the run command.
And was almost immediately thrown from the machine,
He just about managed to grab hold of a stumpy manipulator arm that sprang from the machine's midriff. Setting himself back upright, he increased the speed of the drone, some internal processor automatically negotiating the twists and turns of the track down the cliff.
In a small avalanche of stones and dust he skidded the drone to a halt at the foot of the cliff. Samson flapping his crude map to double check that they'd left the patrol zone, although the halt in drone communications a few seconds previously implied that they had.
Through the small dust cloud that was settling around him an approaching shape resolved itself into the bulky figure of Harmony. From his position perched atop the drone Samson was, for once, looking down at her. He smiled.
"Hell of an entrance" she remarked.
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