Pain Bringer (The Constant War Book 2), page 41
The good news, what little there was of it, was that its presence sheltered Char and the Painbringer from the collapsing catacombs. Behind the creature, Char could make out Southern Californian blue skies and puffy white clouds peeking through a sliver that wasn’t obscured by the orbiting satellite corpse of Sindarhe.
She mentally pushed off rubble and the Painbringer physically obeyed her commands. The nursery was now a giant sinkhole in the middle of Balboa Peninsula, and she was very much situated in the bottom of it, staring up at the underside of a squiddie behemoth.
Though this monstrosity had the same olive coloring and putrid stench as other squiddies, it appeared vastly different. Its tentacles, while numerous, were much shorter, populated in wavering patches around the translucent sacks. Cabbage-eggs secreted from the beast as it moved, the tentacles patting them into the slimy snail-trail left in its wake.
And the stench, well, that was the same, but ew.
Char clicked her heels, igniting boot thrusters. Remnants of the surface overhead blocked direct exit. She skimmed fallen debris, making distance, trying to find an opening for safe flight, when she passed Dr. Scott.
Instead of continuing their skirmish at the sight of her, Dr. Scott allowed her to walk past, completely unhindered.
Had he even noticed her?
Boot thrusters cooled. The Painbringer touched down, coming to a halt as Char cocked her head, glaring at Dr. Scott through canopy glass.
He definitely did not see her, sitting there with a dopey grin on his face and a thousand-yard stare. Apparently, he was no longer worried about being attacked. Nor all too concerned about the remote control and steering Sindarhe into Mother Earth.
His attention was clearly elsewhere.
Char followed his gaze to dripping alien sweat glistening from the newly surfaced creature. Dirt-encrusted sludge was lodged between every flap and fold. Pockets of exposed ground farted under its weight as the creature moved toward her.
“Wait,” said Char. “…are you?”
Dr. Scott snapped his attention back to Char. “I—What? Oh you. You’re still here?”
“Um, yeeeeah. Are you…?”
“No.” His head bobbed as he regained his senses, once again cognizant of his surroundings. He scrambled for the steel ring buried under rubble. Prying it loose, he glanced at the Painbringer, barely making eye contact. “I don’t know what you’re going on about. It’s nothing.”
“You are!” Char looked at the behemoth squid mother. “You’re checking her out!”
“No, I’m not!”
But he was.
“You still are! You’re looking right at her!”
“I’m…” He lost his train of thought.
“Is she prettier than me?” asked Char. “Is that it? Is that what this has been about? It’s those giant scrotal sacks, isn’t it? Is that what does it for you? I’m sorry-not-sorry I can’t compete with that!”
Dr. Scott’s head tilted to the left. His faceted eyes became obsidian glass, slipping back into a thousand-yard stare. “Well…”
“Oh-em-gee!” Targeting reticles crawled across the Painbringer’s canopy, locking on to Dr. Scott dead-center in its crosshairs, alarms blarting in her ears. “I can practically see anime hearts floating off your head!”
“She is a mother of creation. How could you not be attracted to that?”
There was clear blue sky above Char. Despite the commotion, the falling structure around her, the behemoth squid mother towering over her, somehow, through it all, she had miraculously managed to find an adequate means of escape.
There were numerous reasons to take any one of them.
She glared at Dr. Scott.
Very obvious reasons. Reasons that anyone with an ounce of self-preservation would not hesitate at taking. Reasons that the Painbringer was incessantly reminding her of.
A loud ping echoed in her ear. Numerous trajectories flashed across the canopy, accompanied by pulsating arrows. All she had to do was pick one and acknowledge it with a thought and she’d be home free. Beeps in various tones attempted to grab her attention. Alarms sounded as the Painbringer brought up a new display, depicting the giant squid creature lumbering toward her, dragging itself out of its own filth, and looking none-too-happy about being woken from slumber.
“Dr. Scott still has the remote,” Char told the Painbringer.
That’s what she would tell people when they asked her why she hadn’t gotten clear when she had the chance.
It’s what she would tell herself.
She’d tell them it was for the remote control.
Of course it was.
What other possible reason could there be?
Boot thrusters kicked into full throttle. Flying fist first, the Painbringer smashed directly into Dr. Scott’s face, knocking him clean through the steel ring. To call him a sitting duck would be an understatement. Lovestruck deer-in-headlights was more like it.
The steel ring drunkenly spun upright in the space where Dr. Scott stood seconds prior. It gained speed, gradually losing its fight with gravity before toppling to the ground.
At full throttle, the Painbringer followed Dr. Scott’s trajectory, meeting him where he slammed against the wall. Its fist wrapped around his neck, pinning him in place before he could slide to the ground.
“Char! What do you think you’re doing?!” Dr. Scott’s face was puffy and red. His hands went to the grip on his neck, struggling to break free. But he seemed more upset that she had interrupted his momentary infatuation than the actual attack against him.
“Look, Char, it’s not your fault,” said Dr. Scott. “You’re asking me to pick between a life-giving cosmic deity and… well, you.”
Quicker than mecha ignition, heat rose in the cockpit. Char felt her facial features scrunch. She bit her bottom lip, eyes brimming with a sclera gaze. “WHAT?!”
“I’m saying, it’s not personal.”
“NOT PERSONAL?!” She squeezed tighter.
Dr. Scott’s face turned from scarlet to purple, his lips becoming black. The vein in his forehead throbbed so vividly that Char could take his pulse on sight alone. A red latticework of capillaries marred the whites of his eyes.
Dr. Scott wheezed, “Yes, right now, it appears that you are taking this ordeal very personally.”
“I. Am. Not!”
“Right. Of course you aren’t. I mean, jealousy is one hundred percent normal.”
Jealousy?! Char reeled. She could concoct a million reasons why she was there, but jealousy had nothing to do with it. There were other reasons. Elaborate reasons. Great reasons. So many reasons. The best reasons. But all she could think to say was, “Uh, no…?”
“Then why are you here?”
“For the remote control, doi.”
“Sure you are.”
“I am!” she said, but even she was unconvinced by her tone.
“Right, that’s why it’s over there.” Dr. Scott pointed with his eyes.
Char heaved in and out, her breath heavy, her focus locked on Dr. Scott. Then, for a brief second, she took her eyes off him. Just to be certain. What could one little glance hurt?
Sure enough, all the way back where the steel ring had come to rest, sitting in its center, was the remote control.
“This isn’t about the remote control, nor saving humanity,” said Dr. Scott. “It’s about me. You’re upset at me for the way things ended.”
All Char could muster was a childish, “Nuh uh!”
She punched Dr. Scott in the face for good measure, shoved him into the wall, and rocketed toward the remote control.
She wasn’t retrieving the remote simply because he pointed out her blunder. Nor was she doing it because she wished to prove him wrong. Her current actions totally had nothing to do with that.
Not that proving him wrong wasn’t an upside.
Now, she could prove him wrong and save humanity. Just like she had been planning from the very beginning.
The Painbringer hunched over, delicately picking up the tiny remote in its hands. Char turned, holding up the device. “See, I’m saving humanity and whooping your—”
But Dr. Scott was behind her with the steel ring cocked back like a big leaguer about to smash a homerun.
“Uh oh.”
He whacked the side of the dome canopy. A metallic clang echoed, leaving the steel ring vibrating like a tuning fork. Ripping the remote from the Painbringer’s grasp, Dr. Scott looped it onto his belt and hopped onto the steel ring like a cowboy onto the saddle of a galloping stallion.
The Painbringer readouts flickered for a second.
God damn that hurt.
Shaken, Char stirred. Her head lolled in circles. Luckily, the anger was still there. Nothing was going to knock that from her noggin any time soon. Off her mental cues, the Painbringer drew a bead on her target. Unfortunately, by the time Char came to her senses, Dr. Scott had disappeared behind the hulking squid mother before weapons lock could be acquired.
Char flipped on the PA. “Just like a mama’s boy to pick a fight and run away to your behemother when you can’t face the consequences.”
“My what?”
“Your behemother. You know—”
In all the back and forth, Char hadn’t been paying attention to the behemoth squid mother. But man, how it had been paying attention to her. It raised a portion of its body, an appendage somewhat like an arm, but also quite like a flipper, and swiped at her.
“—that.”
The Painbringer dodged backwards, keeping out of reach. Though the catacombs were now exposed to the surface, the monster eclipsed daylight, blocking any route of escape.
Except one.
Against the backdrop of blue sky and putrid Old God flesh, she saw a glint of steel sparkle in the sun. The same path Dr. Scott had taken to get behind the monstrosity. And a clear shot, directly to him.
Perfect.
The Painbringer didn’t seem convinced.
No, seriously, she told the Painbringer. That’s perfect.
She gunned the engines and raced toward the behemother as it sat up on its haunches and roared. Once again, it swiped at the Painbringer with its flat beaver claw appendage, giving Char an up-close-and-personal view of the short tentacles dotting the underside. The Painbringer swerved, keeping enough distance from its arm to avoid being snagged by one of the tentacles.
For a brief second, the turbulence near the behemother reversed, a slow-motion backhand causing the tentacles along the beast’s skin to yaw backward as if caught in a riptide. Positioning thrusters fired, and the Painbringer abruptly halted, letting the appendage pass in front of it.
Dr. Scott dwindled to a small pinprick against the horizon.
Prick. Char laughed to herself as the enormous alien appendage screened her view of the doctor. Pin. Prick.
Perfect.
She punched the throttle and was tossed back in her harness. The fuel gauge plummeted. But it was worth it. She closed the gap.
The Painbringer reached out for the steel ring. “Gotcha.”
As soon as she touched steel, Dr. Scott spun, coming to an impossible stop, Newton’s laws of conservation of momentum be damned. The Painbringer overshot its mark, twisting and clawing for a grip on the steel ring that was now behind it. Suddenly, a beam of white energy filled the space between them. Electricity sparked in her head, the information gathered from the mecha registering as pain. The mecha lurched forward, letting Dr. Scott escape, her response so quick that her eyes hadn’t begun to process the light from the blast. She was clear, hovering at a safe distance, as the beam passed.
“Like I said, Char.” Dr. Scott took a hand off the ring, ruining his perfect Da Vinci Vitruvian Man appearance, and pointed at the sky. Rather, he pointed at the large alien squid god, Sindarhe, blotting out the sky, casting the planet into permanent shadow. “You’re too late.”
“We’ll see about that.”
She leaned forward in the harness. The Painbringer tossed her against the straps as it accelerated.
Dr. Scott stood statue still.
This was going to be good.
Char grinned, balling her fists, knuckles turning bone-white.
She swung.
One second, Dr. Scott was there. The next, he was twenty-five meters away.
With free space and open skies, the ring was extremely maneuverable. Bursts of red particle energy ripped past Dr. Scott as the steel ring slid from side to side, seeming to defy the laws of physics.
Each time the Painbringer closed the distance, the steel ring accelerated to an impossible velocity, remaining far out of reach for hand-to-hand combat.
“Something the matter, Char?”
“This would be a whole lot easier if you just stayed still and let me punch you.”
“I told you, your technology is no match for the power of Sindarhe.” Dr. Scott stood upright, chest out, wafting a hand across his body like he was prize pig at the state fair—not that Char had any experience with state fairs, or pigs, for that matter, other than the ones she read about in her favorite book from childhood. A favorite, not because of pigs and farms and state fairs, but because her favorite character just so happened to share her name.
Sensing her distracted state, the Painbringer pinged in her ear. INCOMING plastered the canopy display in red block letters.
Seconds prior, Dr. Scott had been fifty meters in front of her. Now, somehow, he was behind her. Char leaned right, the Painbringer swiveled on her thought, arm cocked back to catch him with a flying elbow.
But the strike was high, missing completely. With his impossible speed and agility, he was on her back, situated safely away from the twin-mounted engines. Char felt the sensation of tearing flesh. It was only armor plating ripped free from its rivets, but don’t tell that to her nerve endings. They couldn’t tell the difference.
Angrily, she swatted at the attacker on her backside.
“Look at all these unnecessary accouterments.” Dr. Scott ripped handful after handful of wires and circuitry from the exposed innards of the machine. “Oh, and what do we have here?” He grabbed a large hydraulic tube and crushed it in his hand.
Char yelped in pain.
She angled the Painbringer for descent. Engine vents flapped wide. She pressed the throttle forward. Exhaust spilled in all directions from the mecha’s backside, heat distortion rippling the air.
She felt the moment Dr. Scott abandoned his perch on her back and settled into a normal hover.
Huffing, she fought to catch her breath. Hanging from the harness, she actually put her hands to her knees, a suspended fetal position, and the Painbringer mirrored her posture.
“Why are you keeping your distance, huh?” Char said between breaths. “Big stwong man afraid of widdle ol me?”
“Afraid? I don’t think you’re adequately gauging who has the upper hand.”
Char made bocking noises.
“Very mature,” said Dr. Scott. Sometimes he leaned harder into his British accent than others, making him sound even more pompous and pretentious than humanly possible. This was one of those times. “And you wonder why I ended out courtship.”
Char continued bocking, ignoring him, but now the Painbringer strutted in midair, arms pinned to its hips, flapping. “Buc-buc-buc-buh-cack! Buc, buc, boc.”
“This isn’t going to work. You can’t upset me.”
It was probably true. Dr. Scott did seem centered in an irritating manner that wouldn’t let her get under his skin. In point of fact, she hadn’t even considered it as an option, but now, told she wasn’t able to do something, she definitely wasn’t the type to pass up a challenge.
The Painbringer stopped its chicken dance, though Char kept bocking over the comm. The Painbringer pivoted head first, falling into a steep dive away from Dr. Scott and swooped toward the behemother.
“Heya, big girl! How ya doing? I got a little gossip for ya.”
Dr. Scott kept his steel ring floating a safe distance away from Char. But his posture grew lax. His hands clasped on to the bar as he leaned forward, peering down at the Painbringer circling the behemother. “What are you doing?”
“You hear your boyfriend up there has the hots for me?”
“Don’t tell her that,” said Dr. Scott. His will faltered, and the steel ring slowly lost altitude.
The behemother swiveled toward the Painbringer, attempting to swat it away with its many tentacles like it was an annoying housefly. Failing to do so, it impotently croaked in the Painbringer’s direction.
“I mean, just earlier this morning, he was telling me all the things a girl wants to hear. Ya know, like how he wanted me, and how I was special, so special, in fact, that he wanted me to join you guys. Me? Can you believe it?! What an honor to extend the invitation.”
The behemother swiped at her.
“I know! I couldn’t believe it either!”
Dr. Scott nearly fell off the steel ring. “Don’t tell her that!”
“Last night, we—”
“We did nothing,” Dr. Scott shouted, free-falling toward Earth and racing to the behmother’s side.
Char, playing the role of jilted ex-girlfriend—yeah, playing, because it was obviously an act, obviously—kept close tabs on Dr. Scott. If she couldn’t catch him in toe-to-toe combat, she’d make him come to her.
“What’s wrong Scotty-boy? I’m just telling her the truth.”
“Don’t listen to her!” Dr. Scott cried, circling around the behemother to what Char assumed was its ear. The anatomy of these things sure made it difficult to know what was what.
“It’s not true. She’s lying. She’s just jealous.”
Char grinned. Couldn’t upset you, huh? She went for the throat.
“He said I was the best he ever had.”
Dr. Scott’s face went red.
Inside the cockpit, the Painbringer lit up in full panic mode. Lights flashed and blinked. Klaxons blared. As animated as the Painbringer interior was, Char was cool as a space cucumber in deep vacuum.
“Don’t worry, PB.” Char gently patted the dashboard. “I got this.”
“You can mock me all you like,” Dr. Scott’s voice boomed, carrying across Newport Harbor for miles. “But she will not be mocked by the likes of you!”
