The first group of antithesis that found them was even larger than the pack they’d had to contend with before becoming Samurai. Eight Model 3s, and two larger, bulkier Models that looked a lot like the Model 3s, but had thicker plates, and looked closer to tigers than dogs. Technically, Maven had spotted them first, and he looked around at the sound of her huge rifle firing. When he did lay eyes on the new pack, he saw one of the two larger Models collapsing to the ground, a hole the size of his chest in its body.

  ? He didn’t waste any time hesitating as the antithesis rushed forward, drawing the two white and blue pistols from their holsters and opening fire. The ‘Ice Lance Model Mk II’, as Sylas had called them, fired three-inch-long spikes almost silently. Each tiny spike looked like an icicle and arced through the air to change its own trajectory and bury into the flesh of the nearest antithesis. There, though he couldn’t see it, he knew it would detonate, sending fragments of its metal shell deeper into the alien’s body. The first two spikes he fired resulted in one dead Model 3, and several more were already on their way.

  ? Then the turret behind and above him had its say, whirring quietly as it turned and locked onto its targets, then roaring. A white-hot stream of bullets tore through the remaining antithesis, and even the big one that looked like a tiger was torn to shreds. He couldn’t help the shock and awe of the whole thing. One, maybe two seconds of fire, and the pack was gone, just like that.

  ? “Fuck,” he muttered, turning to throw a fearful glance at the turret. It was the size of him, so he knew it would be powerful. But wiping out in seconds what had taken them so long yesterday? “Sylas, how much would one of these turrets cost me?”

  ?

  [Far too much for you to entertain such an idea at this time. The blueprints used and items included in this turret station are all of custom design, but using existing catalogues. At your current rate of point earnings, you can expect to take several months to a year to be able to afford such a thing.]

  ? He didn’t actually want to buy turrets and thought that Sylas could sense it. But still. Even if Sourdough was just breaking even whenever this thing fired, he had about twenty more turrets like it. And they were the smallest, least powerful of the bunch.

  [But I’m glad you brought up your points. Sending new totals now.]

  [Targets eliminated! Reward… 55 points.]

  [New total: 65 points.]

  ? Daniel let out a low whistle. He knew Sourdough was feeding them all the points, but the realization of making 55 points with less than half his magazine was awesome. Remembering the size of the horde they’d seen on the satellite, he thought they could easily leave this station with over a thousand points. Then they could get some real gear of their own.

  ? “How much is a new magazine for these things?” He asked, lifting the Ice Lances.

  [Two Points. To be specific, each magazine costs 1 point, but they come in bundles of two. The weapons were designed as a pair.]

  ? Which meant that, if one squeeze of the triggers could result in a dead Model 3, he made a profit of eight points per bullet. “Not bad at all. What were those bigger things? The ones that looked like tigers.”

  ?

  [That was a variant of the Model 3 designed after the tiger of Earth. It is tentatively titled Model 3-B. Like the Model 3, it is used as a force reconnaissance unit, but is much more durable. Maeve’s rifle is capable of killing it in one shot. Your Ice Lances, I’m afraid, may require more effort.]

  ? “Yeah, that’s fine,” Daniel said. “No way these little spikes are going to have the same force as that cannon of a sniper.”

  ? He turned, seeing Maeve still perched in her raised lookout position, and waved. Her arm rose in response, and he heard a gleeful cackle carried on the wind. He grinned in return. This was starting to look like an excellent way to farm points.

  ? “Let me get a few magazines for the Ice Lance,” he said, holstering the two pistols again, then retrieving the Hummingbird from the back holster. It functioned much the same to the Ice Lances, in that it fired small, guided missiles. Each missile packed less of a punch, but they did fire in bursts of four. “And a few for this as well. Let’s say… 4 for each. Two packs for the Lances, and 4 mags for the Hummingbird.”

  [Right away. It pleases me to see you planning ahead.]

  [New Purchase! Ice Lance magazine pack times 2. Points reduced from 55 to 51.]

  ?[New Purchase! Hummingbird magazine times 4. Points reduced from 51 to 43.]

  ? Instead of six small boxes, one larger container thumped to the ground in front of him, and he crouched down to open it, revealing his magazines. He slipped two of each into his belt, filling the available pouches designed for just that use. He left the half-empty box on the ground by his feet, saving it for later.

  ? “Here comes another one!” Maeve called from her spot. A second later, the sound of her rifle echoed down to him, the distance barely weakening the noise at all. He spotted where she was aiming and shot a few Ice Lances in the same direction. They could simply wait for the monsters to get within turret range, but sitting there and passively earning points felt a bit like cheating, so they were determined to do their part.

  ? Maeve carried the effort, picking off the largest targets at a range greater than the small turrets could manage. Even the spikes from his guns had trouble reaching the antithesis, but she placed round after round into the monsters. He was surprised that one anithesis, a Model 6, took two shots to go down. Together, they took down eight or nine of the xenos before they entered the turret’s range and were subsequently cut to pieces.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  [Targets eliminated! Reward… 61 points.]

  [New Total: 104 points.]

  ?

  ? “Fuck yeah!” he called, then pressed the release on his mags. The silver-colored plastic cartridges clinked against the concrete underfoot. “Almost wonder if I should find a way to help auto-load these. I’d hate to get caught empty next to a hungry xeno.”

  [You can certainly explore such options. Would you like recommendations on possible catalogues that contain the items you need?]

  ? “Nah, that’s for the future,” he said, quickly holstering one pistol so he could slide a new magazine into the other, and repeat the action. His HUD now said he was back to 30 rounds in either pistol. “Just the fact that I could get good guns like this for such a small amount of points is impressive enough.”

  [Indeed. Though I must say, you are taking your transition very smoothly. You are not as disbelieving as I had originally predicted.]

  ? “Glad to surprise you,” he laughed, giving one of the guns a twirl around his finger, something he’d seen one of those old cowboy movies do. Of course, the gun slipped from his hand and clattered to the ground. Snorting, he stooped to pick it up.

  ? “Can you not try to be fancy? I’d feel bad if you shot yourself by accident and died.”

  ? Maeve had made her way down, sans huge rifle. She only gripped her carbine rifle, and was grinning from ear to ear. Before he could ask why she’d abandoned her high ground, she tapped her ear. “Sourdough just sent me a message. The planties are hesitating.”

  ? “You could have told me that via our augs,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “Tired of your big gun already?”

  ? “Nah,” she said, laughing again. “It’s not worth it against Model 3s. Check your satellite feed, you’ll understand.”

  ? He did just that and saw the new wave that was coming their way. They were all Model 3s, he thought. Well, a few Model 3-Bs were mixed in, along with three or four other much larger anithesis. He highlighted one in their feed. “Sylas, what kind of xeno is that?”

  ?

  [That is a Model 4. It has tendrils, some of which end in spikes. It is quite tough, but excels at ambushing its targets. It can excrete a biological agent that causes mild paranoia.]

  ? “That sounds… extremely terrifying,” Daniel said, frowning. “Should we wear masks or something?”

  [Not necessarily. The agent is almost completely ineffective against humans. It was designed to be used against another species.]

  ?

  ? “Almost isn’t nearly as comforting as you think.” He fidgeted with the collar of his shirt, as if ready to bring it up over his nose–for what little good that would do.

  ?

  [I promise, it will have little to no effect here. You would have to be subjected to a great quantity of it over a long time to feel any adverse effects. The chances of suffocating on the smoke of gunfire from your weapons is much higher. And they do not produce smoke.]

  ? He let out a snort. “Fine, then. But they’re still pretty durable, right? Are our weapons going to be enough?”

  ? “That’s fine,” Maeve said, before Sylas could reply. “I asked Lyra the same thing, and she said that our weapons–even my carbine–are more than enough to eliminate one. It just takes a few more bullets!”

  ? And, so saying, she turned, lifted the weapon to peer down its sights, and fired off two quick bursts of three bullets. He didn’t bother trying to assist, as he knew they were too far away. He simply watched some of the monsters disappearing, and frowned, thinking to himself. It felt like this was an exploratory wave, like they were testing the defenses of the station. Yes, antithesis were known to be able to adapt and change their patterns over time. But this felt like there was an actual intelligent being on the other side of the battle, moving pieces around like an extra-lethal game of chess.

  ? “Do you think you can handle this side by yourself?” He asked, craning his neck. “Something feels… fishy. I’m gonna go check out the other side.”

  ? “But the satellite doesn’t show anything but this pack,” Maeve replied, tilting her head at him. She clicked out one mag, swapping it with a fresh one with such a quick, easy gesture that he felt inferior. He still remembered how much he’d struggled to refill his Ice Lances.

  ? “Satellites can only show you what’s on the ground,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’m not saying I know all that much, I just have a weird gut feeling. Send a message if you think you’re gonna have some trouble, okay? I’ll run over as fast as I can. But we need eyes over there.”

  ? “Alright.” She gave him a shrug, even as she lifted the weapon to deliver more death. If she had any complaints about shouldering the burden of the slaughter for a while, it didn’t show on her face. He felt guilty for leaving her to do this, but also couldn’t escape the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. So, holstering his gun, he clambered up to the next level of the turret station via a ladder and ran off to the right, his eyes scouring the tundra around them.

  ? Pity it wasn’t winter, he thought. A thick layer of snow would make any moving antithesis much easier to spot with their black and green color scheme. But with the wide stretch of open plains, the tall grass in various shades of green, a single antithesis could easily go unnoticed. By his eye, at least. The satellite wouldn’t miss that sort of movement. But if they were underground…

  ? The gunfire of the turret echoed behind him, only slightly muffled by the curve of the metal tower he’d just rounded. He ran lightly over to the very edge of the station, where cement ended, and the grass began, then knelt, putting one hand to the ground. It felt… normal. A little cold, but that was how permafrost worked. When a gust of wind came, he took in a deep breath, trying to spot something that seemed off, but it smelled normal.

  ? “Am I just being paranoid?” He asked, looking left and right. “None of those Model 4s got close to me.”

  [As I informed you, the biological agent that the Model 4 produces cannot significantly affect you in such a short amount of time. Also, you are quite correct. They did not get close enough for you to be affected in the slightest.]

  ? “I know,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “But still, something feels wrong.”

  [Perhaps this is an effect of human instinct. As an entirely synthetic being, I cannot sympathize with the idea, but humans used to working in and around dangerous situations have shown a heightened level of senses that lead to small details being noticed more quickly. Your training as an agent of the I.R.A. could have granted you such an ability.]

  ?

  ? “Maybe,” he said, crouching down to touch the ground again. “This is more an Alaskan thing that you wouldn’t understand. And not because you’re a machine, but because you’re an outsider. Even Maeve wouldn’t get it. It’s–”

  ? He felt a small tremor in the ground under his hand and froze. He knew something had been off! Standing back up, he unholstered the two Ice Lances, his eyes scanning left and right to try and find the source. There was no visible sign of the planties appearing, but he knew what he’d felt. Just as he’d followed his gut to touch the ground, he felt an overwhelming certainty that the danger was going to come from his left. He turned just in time to see the large explosion of dirt barely a hundred yards away. The turret nearest to him immediately came to life and whipped around to begin shooting.