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perimeter.
First Marla started picking up routine radio transmissions and then they ran
into a large duraplast sign located right next to the trail. It bore an
ominous looking skull and crossbones, below which were the words: PRIVATE.
KEEP OUT. INTRUDERS WILL BE SHOT ON SIGHT.
Renn looked at Marla and laughed. "That's what I like about Shinto. The man
says what he means."
From that point on security would become tighter and tighter until they
reached the fortress itself. Assuming, of course, that they managed to live
that long. Even though it was getting dark Marla had little difficulty finding
the hidden sensors. They weren't much different from those Jumo had used on
Swamp. Coarse, stupid things, they'd been scattered around as Shinto's first
line of defense. The warmth of their power paks popped out from the cooler
background of the forest, making them easy to spot, and once spotted they were
easy to avoid.
Renn wondered why they hadn't used more. A thick band of sensors would've been
almost impossible to penetrate without setting some off. Stupid though the
sensors were, if twenty or thirty went off in one particular section of the
perimeter, that would be a pretty good indication of trouble. But the folks in
charge of such things had chosen to scatter them widely, instead.
Almost as if the sensors were a mere formality. To Renn's way of thinking,
that meant they were either very stupid or very confident about whatever
defenses lay ahead. He hoped for the first, but feared the second.
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Meanwhile it was pretty tough going. Renn figured they were still about four
miles from
Shinto's retreat, which doesn't sound like a lot, but it is when it's almost
straight up. The easiest going was on the trail, but it would inevitably lead
them into a series of traps and ambushes, so it was best to stay off it as
much as possible. Yet the thick forest to either side made travel there almost
impossible. The vegetation did start to thin out as they went higher, but that
meant less cover too, and increased the possibility that someone would spot
them. So they used the trail when forced to do so, but moved slowly, checking
for traps and potential ambushes every inch of the way. Then, whenever things
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opened up a bit, they went cross-country, occasionally fighting the
underbrush, but feeling safer. But either way they had to keep going. If they
tried to camp for the night, chances were they'd be discovered. No, tired or
not, they'd make their assault on Shinto's fortress tonight, and trust
darkness to cover their approach.
In spite of all her fancy sensors Marla fell into a trap so ancient its
origins are lost in human prehistory. It happened just as it was supposed to,
suddenly, and without warning. One moment she was walking along the trail,
scanning the surrounding vegetation for sensors, and the next she was falling
like a rock. Had she been a human, or even a real dog, the metal spike would
have killed her. As it was, the spike entered two thirds of the way up her
side, destroyed her solar cells, and wiped out her radio receiver before
coming out through the other side.
Swearing steadily, Renn climbed down the crumbling side of the pit, careful to
avoid the forest of sharp spikes which lined the bottom of the pit. Gently, he
lifted her off the spike.
"Marla? Marla? Can you hear me?"
"Of course I can hear you," she snapped. "That damned spike wiped out my solar
cells, not hearing." She regretted the words the moment she said them, but she
was scared and embarrassed.
Renn looked hurt as he lifted her up and out of the pit. "I thought you'd been
injured."
Back on her feet again, Marla waited while Renn climbed out of the pit.
"Jonathan?"
"Yes?"
"It was a stupid thing to say. I was embarrassed that's all. Mighty cyberdog
falls into a covered pit and makes a fool of herself. Forgive me?"
Renn smiled. "You're forgiven."
So they kept on going. An hour passed. Marla could no longer monitor local
radio traffic, and the servos for her right rear leg seemed a hair slow, but
other than that she felt pretty good. She put on a burst of speed intent on
scouting ahead.
Meanwhile Renn found himself plodding along, fighting the fatigue that tried
to pull his eyelids down, forcing himself to concentrate. Look right, look
left, lift the right foot, put it down, lift the left foot, put it down. Look
forward, look back, lift the right foot, put it down.
The sequence seemed to go on forever.
Then Marla appeared out of nowhere, nudged him off the trail, and urged him to
be silent.
Suddenly all his senses were crystal clear, his nerves were wire tight, and
the fatigue was gone, washed away by a flood of adrenaline. Fading into the
foliage, Renn stood perfectly still. He looked down at Marla for some
indication of the problem, but her attention was focused on the trail, so he
slipped off the safety on his blast rifle, and held it ready.
The first thing Renn heard was a snuffling sound followed by heavy breathing
and the swish of branches along something big. Then he heard a radio, the
crackle of a brief transmission, and static. None of which prepared him for
the sight that followed. It was a dog, a dog the size of a small pony, and it
didn't look friendly. A permanent snarl wrinkled the skin on its long
wolf-like nose, fangs appeared and disappeared as it rippled its lips, and red
eyes darted this way and that. To Renn's astonishment there was a man riding
on the wolf-thing's back. He was dressed in green camos, not as good as Renn's
skins, but effective nonetheless. The man was armed with some sort of
auto-shotgun. It had a big drum style magazine and a short barrel. Considering
the thick underbrush it made sense. There's no need for a long range weapon
when you can't see more than fifteen feet.
The genidog suddenly came to a stop and looked right at Renn. Fortunately,
Renn's skins rendered him almost invisible. This confused the animal because
it could smell Renn but couldn't see him. It never got a chance to figure
things out because a fraction of a second later Renn fired. Even as its master
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fell out of the saddle, the genidog leaped towards them, and was in midair
when Renn's beam sliced through it. The genidog landed with a thump in a pile
of its own entrails. Though mortally wounded, it continued to growl and snap.
Renn put another bolt through its head and it finally lay still.
Renn looked at Marla and she looked at him. "What the hell is that?" he asked.
"Some extremely bad news," Marla answered thoughtfully. "I've got a feeling we
just met our first genidog."
There was a crackling sound off to their left. Then a female voice said, "Unit
six ...
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