BuyMort: Rise of the Windowpuncher – How I Became the Accidental Warlord of Arizona. Apocalyptic GameLit

Chapter 60: Chapter 58


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Tollya led the group, and most of the hobbs were laughing and chatting as they began to take gear from the new equipment. I noticed one of the hobbs was carrying the RPG launcher over one shoulder. Really hoped we didn’t need to use that underground.

Rayna had bought us more tracer rounds, so everyone started loading magazines. Each hobb got a Sleem Stick, and each of them had weapons capable of hurting the Sleem. 

When I did a quick head count, I realized there was only a dozen hobbs with us. I had expected more, but they opened the hatch to the bugout tunnel as though we were ready.

“Rayna,” I asked as I approached. “Don’t we need more hobbs to do this?”

She waved a screen away and shook her head. “We used these before, rich client with herd of beef-beetles. Was being attacked by local Sleem nest, would only let us use equipment they had on hand. Hive work well alone, but faster if you can move it around. Need small group to support hive. Anything is easy when you have morties. Hive do all Sleem work, we just there to break up clumps or deal with bugs they summon.” 

Tollya lifted the new flame thrower to Rayna’s back, and the hobb started shrugging into the straps. She raised her phone and thumbed at the center of the screen. The hive lit up and came to life. It was plugged into our new solar sail generator, which had been gathering power to store in its battery most of the day.

Small lights behind each door activated, and they began to slide open. All except the ten at the top opened, and small metal insects began to crawl out. Each one would crawl on tiny spindle limbs to the edge of its door, before taking wing and flying down the open tunnel to the Sleem dungeon.

I was wearing my plasma falchion, and Falcor, each in hip and thigh scabbards. My bag of crystalline grenades was slung over one shoulder, and I carried my new Highwater Blast shotgun at the ready. It was loaded with laser slugs, and I had a fresh bandoleer with a mix of them and my remaining MIRV shells. 

It had been tempting to buy and use another Sleem suit, but nobody else had one and it made me hesitate to bother. The goal here seemed to be not killing Sleem anymore but pushing them into a single contained area. I hoped it wouldn’t involve getting as up close and personal with them as the last time.

We hefted the hive between us, me and three hobbs. It was surprisingly heavy, but Rayna assured us we would not have to carry it far. As we walked down the entry hallway, one hobb remained behind to close the door. 

Rayna told me that the rest of her hobbs were made aware that we were down below rounding up Sleem and were on high alert for escapees. An approach had been made to Phyllis, but she chased off the hobb, claiming she was already ready to defend our home, and didn’t require constant reminders.

Mostly all I saw her do was watch TV and take drugs, but until recently I’d had little ambition for much beyond that myself, so I wasn’t inclined to judge her too harshly.

The dark of the tunnels was cut by intense lights. Each hobb used a flashlight of some sort or other. Some were mounted on guns, one was strapped into a helmet, but most were carried by hand. My helmet compensated as we traveled slowly back to the main junction point. 

Rayna had us stop and set down the hive a few dozen feet back from the four way junction. The drone cloud hovered in the central area, creating patterns in the air as they entered a holding pattern.

“Okay,” Rayna started. She was holding her phone and swiping through it.

“You have map. So you tell bees what to do.” The tall hobb pocketed her device and unclipped her flamethrower nozzle again, cradling it at a ready position.

“I don’t know how,” I responded immediately.

“Easy. Set drones to shepherd mode. Assign them to collect Sleem. Then pick place you want Sleem to go. You have the map, so you pick.” Rayna scanned the flashlight lit hallways ahead as she spoke.

“Okay, thanks, I think.” I muttered the last part low enough that my helmet didn’t broadcast it and pulled up the Fumble-Bee hive app on my helmet, to start looking through its settings. The piece of equipment was complex, to say the least. 

All drone behavior had to be entered manually, through a complex string of code words and phrases. The manual helped a little, but I quickly became frustrated.

My Afflqwst app came to the rescue, as it suddenly hijacked the drone interface and threw an old quest at me.

Quest - Your affiliate is in danger from the sentient beings known as Sleem. You must find their base and eliminate it. Clear the Sleem from your affiliate’s land. 

REQUIREMENTS:

  1. Locate Sleem Base Of Operations (complete)
  2. Clear base of Sleem Affiliate forces. (incomplete)
  3. Scavenge base for sales items. (complete)
  4. (Optional) Retrofit base for Affiliate use.

PROBABLE OUTCOME - Hostile Takeover of affiliate property (25%).

POSSIBLE OUTCOME - Sleem retreat from Earth (.05%).

REWARD - Sale coupon on select Afflqwst items.

As I read the quest details, it changed. The new quest was far more aligned with my new intentions, but held onto the core of what it had been before I decided to change my approach to the Sleem beneath our feet.

Quest - Your affiliate stands to profit from the establishment of a Sleem farm. You must locate a suitable containment area for Sleem, and shepherd all Sleem inside.

REQUIREMENTS:

  1. Locate ideal Sleem containment zone.
  2. Clear base of Sleem Affiliate forces.
  3. Secure Sleem containment zone.

PROBABLE OUTCOME – Establishment of Sleem farm. (75%).

POSSIBLE OUTCOME – Attain rare affiliate partnership.

REWARD - Sale coupon on select premium Afflqwst items.

The Fumble-Bee hive clicked, a light at the top near the painted antennae popped on, and a gentle voice announced; “Voice activation online. Please inform the hive of your goal.”

“Perfect. I need an area mapped out.” As I spoke to the device, I pulled up my helmet’s map and zoomed in on the very bottom of the experimentation ward, and the giant cargo elevator. “There. I need to know what is down there.”

Several drones split off from the primary group and buzzed off down the tunnel to residential. The map in my helmet tracked their movement. They avoided my old dead Sleem blockades on the stairs by taking the elevator shaft straight down, before moving across experimentation and diving into the pit. From the point of leaving the hive, my Fumble-Bees were mapping out new territory within thirty seconds.

You are reading story BuyMort: Rise of the Windowpuncher – How I Became the Accidental Warlord of Arizona. Apocalyptic GameLit at novel35.com

I watched in real time as the map expanded, showing a long, angular shaft that descended into a massive, open cavern. The hive projected direct footage from the drones into my helmet at a request, and I got to see what was down there. A giant, dripping cave filled with Sleem.

At one point in the distant past, it did appear to have had several large machines, as well as rigging in the walls and ceiling for cranes. The area was roughly the size of an enclosed football stadium, and the entire bottom portion was covered in a solid pool of Sleem. 

It was like the giant block of Sleem I had encountered in the hangar, but exponentially bigger in size. 

One of the drones hovered near the mouth of the cavern as the rest spread out to perform their active mapping. As I watched the various camera feeds, I saw a Sleem ooze pull free from the primary bulk and start slowly crawling its way up the elevator shaft.

Near the edge of the cavern walls, it was evident that there was moisture seeping through from outside. All of the walls were coated in condensation, and several stalactites had formed across the ceiling over the years. 

There was evidence of stalagmites as well, but the few that rose from the jellied mass of Sleem appeared to have been altered via power tools. Their tops were cleanly sawed off, and some had metal brackets in place for whatever they had held before the base was shut down.

I imagine they lost funding after their top officials all mysteriously disappeared. Their bodies had to have been found, but it was probably much later, when the base was being dismantled. 

My imagination told me the demolition team tearing the place apart decided it wasn’t worth digging into when they figured out what happened, instead closing the door behind them and leaving it as the tomb it had become.

The new portion of map completed as the Fumble-Bee drones found the far side. I left them in place and ordered an active mapping sweep of the entire facility. The hobbs nearby winced as the whine of drones scattering became momentarily deafening. The little craft moved much faster when on a mission than they did when holding a position.

According to my Fumble-Bee readout in my helmet’s HUD, we had merely five thousand drones deployed, only half of our capability. The hive hummed with activity behind me, but no more drones were forthcoming. I focused on my map, pulling it wider to see the sudden expansion happening.

Pipes and ductwork were explored, and sections of the map I had failed to fully flesh out were filled in quickly. The hanger went on for another two football fields, and identified itself as ‘testing’ once it was filled in. The Fumble-Bees could read English, among thousands of other languages. A nice feature.

Medical fleshed out more fully, the piping and medical gas lines extending out from the walls and flooring. The residential areas above experimentation also filled in with detail, as insect sized drones flew into and through the various rooms. I got to see my barbershop chair and the hidden door, still covered in Sleem juice. 

Drones entered the secret tunnels from the hangar door I had left open and completed that area as well. There was another tunnel I had missed, well hidden. The tunnel opened roughly ten feet overhead, and a secondary tunnel led off to another secret hatch.

As the drones buzzed around the underground base, the Sleem began to get agitated. At first they responded only in passing to the sound and movement, but soon they began actively chasing the drones.

“Activate shepherd mode, move all Sleem here.” I indicated the bottom cavern on the map, and the drones changed attitude again. 

They began issuing small shocks to the Sleem, which I watched on my mini cameras. Each drone was capable of administering several tiny jolts with their onboard micro-tasers before needing to return for a recharge. 

The hive began to come alive with activity again, as doors opened, and Fumble-Bees were dispatched. The new drones raced to position, before the drones running on empty veered away to return.

A wall of Fumble-Bee drones chased the Sleem, who quickly realized that they were unable to easily harm the little objects. Any Fumble-Bee drone engulfed by a Sleem would simply shock or burn their way out and resume their shepherding work. The Sleem were nearly helpless before them. 

On the odd occasion that a Sleem would harm a drone, usually by throwing it into nearby concrete walls, a specialized drone would eject from the top ring and race off down the dark hallways to rescue it.

The Fumble-Bees on the top row were called red jackets, and had red stripes painted on their thorax. The rear portion of each was significantly longer than a regular drone, and as the first one returned with its damaged cargo, I saw why. The back end of the red jackets opened into small arms that collected the damaged drone and any parts, before depositing them back inside the hive. 

A running tally of damaged drones, deployed drones, and drones awaiting deployment ran in small numbers on the side of the floating interface. When I glanced at it, I had a total of fourteen damaged drones, out of ten thousand total.

“Okay, it looks like this thing is working,” I announced to the gathered hobbs. They looked nervous, but the information got several nods.

My map began to fill with red, and the rotating camera feeds confirmed that Sleem were approaching our position in number. A wall of Fumble-Bee drones began to form in front of us, cutting off the hallway before the mass of Sleem arrived. A huge glob of it was coming from the hangar. 

“We do have incoming though.”

Rayna quickly ordered her hobbs behind the buzzing, moving wall of micro-drones. When she added me to the line, I gripped the Sleem Stick she shoved at me and stepped in place. 

The goal was simple: keep it moving without letting it come toward us. Rayna and Tollya were behind us if we needed to fall back, with lethal countermeasures. Tollya held one of my crystalline grenades, and Rayna was ready with the flamethrower.

The walls groaned as a rush of Sleem filled the hallway. The hobbs at my side clenched, and the wall of drones began to move, circling each other in seemingly randomized pathways. 

Slime rushed into view, filling the hallway entirely. In the light, I could see that it was a dark cherry red beneath the surface and couldn’t be seen through. This was the giant Sleem creature I had seen before.

It bulged toward us, and the Fumble-Bees went to work. They sparked and zapped it all over, focusing on the primary bulge before working to push back the rest of it. The giant wall of red Sleem passed for what felt like minutes. 

After the initial push, it seemed to get the idea and just oozed down the hallway toward residential. The Fumble-Bees still occasionally zapped it, but only if certain areas slumped inward or it seemed to be slowing.

On the map behind it came another press of red dots, this time from medical. I pulled out the map and looked. A huge mass of sleem were being herded toward us down the hallway. They were streaming from all parts of the medical wing, but particularly out of the pipes and gas lines, all coalescing in the central room before surging directly at us.

“Get ready!” I shouted, right before the two streams of slime collided. Our portion bulged so far in the hallway with us that we all took several steps back before we started jabbing with our Sleem Sticks. 

Sparks erupted and flashed, and most of the hobbs just struck out blindly. 

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