Of Neuromancy and Iron Wills 2 (Patreon)

The doors to the cavern we were being held in blew, the explosive we’d rigged to slow the terror squad down doing its job spectacularly. With a sigh, I hooked the faceplate to my junkyard bolter and turned it on. Green and blue LEDs lit up on the left and right sides of the faceplate respectively.

“What’re we looking at?” I asked, all but throwing on my welding jacket turned-trauma vest.

Toni was barely in the big bulking suit, and Yinsen was running between the suit and the computer. Yinsen answered, “The program just started, we need more time.”

“Got it,” I said, a hint of a growl in my voice.

Palming one of my throwing disks in my free hand, I made my way out of the cavern, ready to cause a distraction so the heavy duty armor could finish booting up. Pistol up, I stalked forwards like I was Stalone in some 80s action movie. The fact that I was expecting them was the only reason I was able to bring my weapon to bear on the first group of terrorists as they ran around a corner.

Faster than I thought I was capable of, my arm lined up a shot and pulled the trigger. The movement of the trigger brought two wires in contact, sending an electrical charge through a pair of magnetized rails on either side of the barrel. The electricity pulsing through them gave the rails a magnetic field, pulling the iron rod within the barrel out at speeds measured in decimals of the speed of light. There was an explosive ‘BOOM’ as the rod all but shattered the sound barrier, the projectile gaining a coating of plasma from the sheer friction of the air.

The now plasma coated iron slammed into the terrorist in front, still carrying enough energy to pass through him, his blood and bodily fluids flash boiling from the heat. The change from liquid to gas caused the terrorist’s flesh to veritably explode, covering his fellows in a shower of gore as his body, barely held in a semblance of human shape by his ruptured kevlar vest, dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.

The rapidly cooling metal bolt passed through another terrorist, with similar results, before burying itself in the walls of the cave. The remaining two terrorists of the group stared in horror at where their comrades had once stood. The blue LEDs had shut off, switching to yellow and I resisted the urge to wince. I’d hoped there wouldn’t be that much heat build up from a single shot, but I’d figure something out.

I pressed down on the plastic cap in the middle of the disk I’d palmed, before throwing it at the surviving duo like I was skipping a stone on a pond. I turned my head to the side and slammed my eyes shut, just in time. The tiny piece of palladium began reacting with the acids and other chemicals in the now broken cap, the wires surrounding the edge of the disk channeling the current forming in a feedback loop. The electrical energy excited the chemical cocktail, which was passed into the wires, causing a rapidly building cycle that resulted in the molecular bonds within the piece of palladium slag to snap. The energy within those bonds were released into the surroundings, causing an explosion rivaling that of the most advanced military hand grenades.

In my head, I could see it. The concussive wave hit the terrorists first, slamming into them with (if my earlier math was correct) about 100 psi overpressure. The shockwave passed through them, the empty spaces within them and the different densities of their inner organs reacting to the wave of energy passing through them. Blood vessels ruptured, bones rattled and broke, tissue tore, and they were dead before they hit the ground.

The shockwave was less than 2 psi by the time it reached me, and I turned back to continue on my distraction, palming a second disk as I did so. The LEDs on the right side of my faceplate still shone yellow. Mental note: if I get out of this, when designing guns figure out an onboard cooling method. My pseudo-bolter was good for one, maybe two more shots and I’d have to discard it.

Ahead there were shouts in what sounded like Angry Arabic (was it racist to think that?) and I saw shadows of men running towards me. Popping the cap on my second disk, I chucked it into the gap between the corridor I was in ad the one the oncoming terrorists were coming from. Slipping into a crevice, I waited for the disk-grenade to go off before popping out and continuing on. The second group consisted of sex terrorists, two of which were still alive. I grabbed an AK-47 off one of the corpses and gave the survivors a double tap.

Yinsen had confided in me something he’d overheard before Toni woke up, and that made killing the dazed and helpless terrorists much easier. Glancing up, I saw sunlight ahead. The entrance must be nearby, probably around the next bend. Which would be the perfect spot for an ambush…

I picked up one of the bodies and held it in front of me before pausing. I know it always worked in movies, but I’d also read enough technical stuff even without the knowledge downloaded into my brain to know that a human shield does not make the best protection against repeated automatic fire. So instead of holding the body in front of me as I moved into potential gunfire, I did the smart thing. I shoved it out into the opening. And watched it get perforated by a hail of bullets.

Three more disks went out, even as a single bullet punched through the leather welding jacket I was wearing. When the booms ended, I cautiously peeked out around the corner. Twelve terrorists, all of them on the ground. Dead or clutching at ruptured eardrums. I picked up the AK-47 and finished them off, just in time to hear the thundering footsteps of Toni’s Mark I Armor. I turned to look back at her and Yinsen as they approached, Yinsen holding one of the terrorist’s guns.

“You have military training?” Toni asked. “Cause we didn’t bump into anyone.”

“Nope,” I answered, lifting the faceplate up. “FYI: I’m down to four disk grenades and one shot, maybe two at best, from this thing.”

“Stay behind me, this can take more hits than you can.”

“They have a machine gun,” Yinsen warned us. “I saw it when they brought me here.”

“Nest position?” I asked, to which he nodded. “Left or right of us as we head out?”

He thought for a moment, “Right, on the way out of the canyon.”

Toni and I shared a glance, which she broke, “If you think that piece of yours has the range, I’ll draw fire and you take out the gunner’s nest. This thing has rockets, but that’ll leave you and Yinsen stuck.”

I shook my head, “Cause enough chaos that they’re too busy to pay attention then get out of here. Yinsen and I will steal a truck or APC. We’ll find you once we slip out.”

“We all leave, or none of us…” Toni started, but the sounds of shouting outside the cave interrupted her.

“We don’t have time to argue, Toni. We’ll find you and pick you up before you bake to death inside that oven.”

Toni wasn’t happy, not by a long shot. But like I said, we didn’t have time to argue. With a frustrated growl, she turned and stomped out to the cave entrance. Immediately, a hail of gunfire was unleashed upon her. Not a single one so much as dented her armor, and when the clips ran dry, she uttered the line that secured a billion fans back home.

“My turn.”

The twin flamethrowers built into the arms of her armor cut loose, burning human scum and boxes of missiles, guns, and other weapons, all with the Stark Industries logo emblazoned on them. The sounds of primal screams and exploding weapons filled the air, and as Toni stomped forwards, hurrying to try to make an opening for us, I led Yinsen ahead.

As we stepped out into the sunlight, my eyes scanned the rocks for the gunner’s nest. I spotted it, just as they started to take aim at Toni. My arms snapped up, and I took a shot. The heat of the plasma coated iron rod ignited the powder within the machine gun’s ammunition, causing the whole nest to go up in an explosion of fire and smoke. Immediately after, the yellow LEDs inside my faceplate shut off, twin red LEDs switching on.

“Damn,” I swore, reaching up and pulling the wires out of the faceplate. The LEDs shut off, all of them, and I tossed the now faintly glowing gun aside.

“William?” Yinsen asked.

“Rails are melted, if I tried to fire it again it’ll more likely blow up and take my hand with it,” I explained as the two of us scurried around the action.

Toni was, as usual, the center of attention, which made slipping into one of the terrorist’s transports that much easier. As she took off, one leg of her suit unresponsive, I pulled a keyring from the visor. Shaking my head, I jammed the first key I found into the ignition and hoped it worked. To my and Yinsen’s luck it did.

I’m normally pretty good at following the rules of the road: I stay within 5 miles of the speed limit, always use my turn indicators, never pass on a double yellow, all that jazz. This was not the time for that. So I gunned the truck and drove out into the screaming mass of men, my and Yinsen’s transport shaking as terrorists too slow to get out of the way were crushed under the tires as we picked up speed.

“Here,” I said as I passed the last of my disks to Yinsen. “Keep an eye behind us, if it looks like they’re getting close, press the plastic cap and chuck ‘em at them.”

“Of course,” he agreed, leaning out the passenger window.

Our luck held, as it seemed that they were too confused to get in a truck and follow us. In about two minutes we came upon Toni, in the wrecked parts of the armor. I came to a stop next to her, rolled down the driver’s window and quipped, “Need a lift? Show me some leg first little miss.”

I laughed at the gesture Toni sent my way before climbing up into the back.

[hr][/hr]

We were picked up by US military not long after, the realization that we had the Toni Stark in our number helping expedite us out of the hellhole that was the Middle East. Cradle of Civilization and Birthplace of Faith it might have been, but if I ever go back it will be way too soon. I got way too much nordic blood for that kind of heat.

I couldn’t speak for Yinsen or Toni, but I was exhausted and took the chance to catch some sleep on the plane.

…Power Reserves Increased…

…

…Bonding 45.45% Complete…

…

…CFU 2.543x10^54 Pleased Host Still Functioning…

…

…Standby For Datafeed…

I woke up on the plane, rubbing at my head. Still hurt like a dickens, but at least I wasn’t nauseous or bleeding from the nose. Bright side, I now had confirmation that CFU either had some pretty hard limitations or it had a hardon for the cyberpunk genre.

…CFU 2.543x10^54 Lacks Flesh Required For State: Hardon…

…

…CFU 2.543x10^54 Suggests Subject: Antoinette Stark For Acquiring State: Hardon…

…is my power suggesting hooking up with Toni?

“Ya alright Will?” Toni’s voice pulled me to the land of the living. I shook my head, and rubbed the last of the sleep from my eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said before stretching with a satisfying series of pops.

“So this is the Neuromancer guy,” a voice I didn’t recognize spoke up.

I turned to face a black guy who looked like he could snap me in half like a twig. He wore military dress blues and had his arms folded across his chest as he gave me a hard, calculating look.

“I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that someone recognized the name,” I muttered as I stood up and offered my hand. “You are?”

“Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes, Air Force,” he said as he shook my hand. “Thanks for helping Toni out there.”

“I have to admit, from the way you were standing I was half expecting a 'stay away from my girl' or a shovel speech.”

He snorted, before reaching over and ruffling Toni’s hair. Toni protested and shoved his arm away as he spoke, “You were there to help her when I couldn't, so that gives you the benefit of the doubt. But if you want…”

I laughed, raising my hands in surrender. The rest of the flight was spent with Toni, Yinsen, and Rhodey (who I will note looked nothing like either actor who’d played him in the MCU) playing Texas Hold Em sans money. I, on the other hand, had found some paper and a pencil and started doodling plans and schematics I’d gotten from my most recent upgrade.

Countless designs for different cybernetic implants, both replacements and augments, danced through my skull. For the moment, I focused on replacement organs. I had no legal identity, no papers, nothing. So my best shot was to present Toni with something that would help make up for shutting down Stark Industries weapons contracts. Plus, I wasn’t quite ready to talk to Toni about hacking off my limbs so I could replace them with cybernetic augmentations.

Instead I sketched the design for a cybernetic liver that would have the ability to handle the alcohol intake of a heavy drinker for two hundred years straight. By default it wouldn't process the booze any faster than a normal liver, given how the main reason for drinking was the buzz, but it wouldn't break down like a meat one.

I set my sketches and doodles aside as I felt the plane shift and begin to descend. If things went as I expected, Toni was going to want cheap burgers, and even before finding myself in the desert I can't remember the last time I had a nice, juicy burger.