TBoB - Book 7 - Chapter 76 - Taste of Victory (Patreon)

The instant I stepped off the Kodiak, several beavers brushed past me, dragging a heavy cart that sort of looked like a gurney with an industrial crane mounted over it. They worked together, using the servo arms on their backpacks to lift Heavy onto the contraption before dragging it back out again.

“How’s he look?” I asked one of the beavers trailing behind the cart.

“Welp. We’ll have to remove the skull plating to get a look at the internal damage, but based upon the location of the damage and how deep that spike is embedded, things don’t look good,” the beaver explained. “Took that blow directly to the central processor, probably scrambled his neural net.”“Can you fix him?” I asked, trailing behind the bot.

“Dunno Boss; won’t be able to tell until we open the big boy up,” the beaver replied. “We’ll do our best. You can count on that!”

After hearing that, I slowed to a stop, letting the beavers continue without any further interruptions. The group quickly disappeared from sight, ducking into the manufacturing area where they’d set up their workshops and repair bays. I knew they’d inform me the instant they had any news, but I still made a mental note to check in on them later.

Now that I was out of the water and out of danger, I could feel the fatigue slowly creeping in. As much as I wanted to head to my room and collapse on my bed, I couldn’t justify doing it right now. Even though the Gene Tender was dead and the hive it was hiding in was destroyed, there was still a ton to do. 

We still needed to sweep the combat area for survivors, hunt down any stray Antithesis still in the area, and clean up the oily garbage in the water.

Granted, I couldn’t really help with most of that now. I’d lost most of my available ground forces to that oily gunk below; I didn’t even know where they were or if they were still intact; I’d have to wait until the area cleared to search. 

I did have a handful of active combat units left in the area, but they’d all been deployed to the Redemption, and even if they hadn’t been, I wasn’t willing to send them into the deep. I’d learned my lesson sending the last group.

Even though I didn’t have time for a nap, I still headed to my personal quarters. Over the last couple of hours, my armour had been completely shredded. The forearm on the right had been torn open, the shoulder on the left ripped to pieces, and there was a massive hole in the torso. 

I wasn’t exactly picky about my attire, but considering the armour looked like it would fall apart if someone looked at me wrong. Plus, I was really sick of this helmet, it was making me feel claustrophobic.

As soon as I walked into my living quarters, I took off my helmet and threw it into the far corner, as far away from me as possible. It took me significantly longer to strip the rest of it off; some of the plates had become twisted due the force of blows that pierced them.

When I finally pried the heavy armour off, I just dropped it unceremoniously at my feet before wandering over to the wardrobe and pulling out one of my hoodies and a pair of loose pants. I’d clean up the remnants of my armour later; for now, I was just happy to be free of it.

“Nyx, anything interesting happening in the comms?” I asked, leaving my room and heading to the kitchen. 

You not only have access to all the samurai comm channels, but you can monitor them all with the help of the command network, Nyx said. So why are you asking me?

“Because I stopped paying attention to them after coming to the surface, so I could give my brain a break, and I know that you’d be monitoring it all anyway,” I said, grabbing a chair from the dining room and carrying it into the kitchen. I placed it next to the fridge and climbed onto the counter to reach the cabinet hanging above. Even standing on the counter and sticking my arm as deeply as possible, I was just barely able to reach the treasure inside.

You know, I can provide you with trillions of different meals for just a single point. Nyx said. Why do you insist on eating that garbage?

“NutriBlocks aren’t garbage,” I said defensively.

Really? Is that why Jane throws them out every time she finds them? Or why you hid them in the back of the one cupboard she wouldn’t check regularly? 

“Just because Jane doesn’t like them doesn’t mean they have absolutely no value,” I said. “Sure, they have absolutely no nutritional value, taste like cardboard, and probably contain all sorts of dangerous chemicals, but they’re nostalgic. My comfort food.”You know I could easily replicate both the taste and the texture, without all the dangerous chemicals, Nyx said. Plus, you wouldn’t have to worry about hiding them somewhere.

“Yeah, but they wouldn’t be as authentic,” I replied, hoping off the counter and climbing down off the chair. “So, about those comm channels.”It’s about what you’d expect. Most of the conversations seem to be focused on figuring out the best way to search the area. Finding groups, figuring out which areas are being covered, things like that, Nyx said. The only other conversation you may be interested in is a discussion between Hel and the local branch of the Family. Apparently they’re trying to get a copy of the satellite feeds for the last couple of hours, so they can check for any Antithesis trying to leave the area.

I paused, NutriBlock halfway to my mouth. “Why…?” I asked hesitantly.

Because the Gene Tender could create small, symbiotic creatures, which it could use to command and apply mutations to other Antithesis at a distance. Hel is concerned that Gene Tender might have tried to set up another lair, or begin construction of another super hive while you were all distracted here.

“I forgot that it could do that,” I moaned. “Could it spawn a new Gene Tender with those fucking things?”

Not typically. Usually, a new Gene Tender is spontaneously generated once a hive has reached a sufficient size and complexity, Nyx replied. Although it’s not unheard of for Gene Tenders to self-propagate, usually these second-generation models are nowhere near as effective as the originals.  

“So it is possible,” said, dropping into the chair and leaning back tiredly. “Fucking perfect. I’m glad that Hel’s on top of things, cause I’d hate to find out that we went through all this fucking effort, only to find out another Tender snuck away and started building a world-ending hive somewhere else when we weren’t looking.” I sighed. “Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, we’ll never get a handle on the fucking Antithesis. This’ll never end.”That’s not true. You grow stronger with every fight, every kill, every point you earn. I’d say it’s a slow process, but just look at where you are. You’re sitting in a replica of your house, inside a flying battleship manned by automated troops. I’d say you’ve come a long way from digging food out of a trashcan to survive.

“Excuse me, I was digging scrap out of trashcans so I could buy the finest undercity cuisine,” I exclaimed, holding up my NutraBlock. “But, I get what you mean. I guess I’m just feeling worn out from the weeks of non-stop combat. I really shouldn’t be complaining, Sharron and the others spent months fighting much stronger Antithesis Models, and came home victorious. Still, it’s a little discouraging to hear that all my work might have resulted in nothing.”It wasn’t nothing, Nyx replied. You killed a foe that less than one percent of the Vanguard on Earth can say they’ve survived, never mind killed. It’s quite an acomplishment. Besides, even if the Tender attempted to spawn a replacement, it doens’t mean it succeeded. And even if it did, you can always squish that one too.

“That’s true,” I muttered, before raising my Nutriblock in a mock salute. “To our continued victories!”

Please throw that thing away, Nix sighed,

“No,” I replied, shoving it into my mouth. “Victory tastes like cardboard.”