Konsk: The Great Takeover of the Place

7 Crime Scenes

Spicer rubbed his eyes and yawned, stretched his long thin arms and fingers, then cursed as his arthritic joints clicked painfully. The thumbs were the worst, all that working with cold metal tools, back in the day. Or was it the knees? Years of exposure to the elements, thrashing around on bikes in poorly patched jeans.

He put the goggles back on and adjusted the focus. This is giving me a headache, he thought. I'd rather be there. Still, better than nothing. Not like a bike though.

He had begun that morning, immediately after the news broke that it was not an accident but a terrorist incursion, although that too was was liable to further interpretation, of course- difficult to say where the truth lay these days. Who was responsible was another matter entirely. Dawn had asked him to take a look, virtually.

The first explosions had occurred on the eastern edge of the middle lands, Wrexley, was it? Where the cantrefi system was just beginning to take hold. Then on to Hammerton and a small bio-diesel plant. The communities here were challenged by past actions that had left a landscape struggling to cope with the steadily increasing temperatures. The Not Far Now community, more of an in-betweener than a pure cantref, had provided the first drone and he flew it remotely, trying to get a grasp on the incursion.

There were low, rolling hills here, most unlike the rock and mountains of the old country he knew and loved. Once soft with lush grasses and cereals, the changing climate had been ignored, clear to see now in the parched, yellow fields and deeply cracked soils, only the trees remaining green

Fools! They'd known it was coming. Were they blind? The remedial work was extensive and still hampered by reactionary forces who were prepared to use violence in their attempts to maintain the defunct order. Maybe that's what this incursion was about?

There had been several explosions here, a number of buildings destroyed, some of them occupied. The bodies had been removed but that did not distract from the fact that it was a murder scene, a multiple murder scene.

“Whadya think, soldier?”

Spicer spoke into a throat mike. There was a slight pause before a voice answered.

“Not soldier.” Another pause and he grinned; he could feel her exasperation.

“Something not right,” she went on eventually. “No clear target, carnage too random, unfocused.”

“They took out the bio-diesel plant,” Spicer pointed out.

“Yes, sure, big fire but why no attempt to steal the product? And what's the point in wasting more explosives on compost toilets?”

“Just creating havoc, some sort of distraction?”

The attack had come in early evening, the day before. There were no witnesses and no cameras to record anything. Did that suggest sophisticated intelligence or just luck? The incursor or incursors had moved on, striking out due west, cross country over the low hills, so quickly that even the route was not discovered until the following day.

“How many, Jodi,” Spicer wanted to know, “Lone wolf or posse?”

“If there's more than one, they went single file, in the leaders footprints.”

Her disembodied voice sounded directly into his ears, like some aspect of himself.

“Disciplined then, knew what they were doing. Or maybe just one. A trained operative?”

Jodi agreed. “Possibly enhanced.”

Spicer hadn't wanted to think that.

He had kept switching drones, following the trail west, over into the next valley down a forested strip between Hang On In There and There's No Place Like It, the intruder inflicting some limited but brutal damage, a volunteers' bunkhouse, full, before heading on.

“He really wants to stir things up,” Spicer grimaced. “Get everyone in a panic, running about like the proverbial headless, not thinking, just after revenge. The fucker!”

“Or she,” Jodi responded. “Same again, no witnesses. Then they turn up in the next valley less than an hour later, so moving fast. They know exactly what they're doing.”

“What's the point? If it's a distraction, a distraction from what? What the fuck is he up to?

“Or she...”

“You gonna pick me up on that every time, ain't you, girl.” Not a question. Jodi laughed.

“Of course! And its woman, not girl.”

Now it was Spicer's turn to feel exasperated.

By the time he got to the last point of contact, he was a long way into the old country, a disturbingly long way. He found it hard to believe that anyone could have travelled that fast, especially as the storm had moved in and unleashed its thunderous downpours. This wasn't just a member of some middle land militia or an eco-warrior from a gang like Earth's Fist, it stank of a highly trained operative. And the deeper in, the less damage caused. What was the point of that? He had a growing, nasty feeling about it all, that whoever they were, they were on a mission.

He rotated the final drone, borrowed from The Last Resort Cantref, taking in a broad, high view, a view that worried him as it was so familiar. He knew this hillside and the mountain above from more than one lifetime. Over the top and far down the other side would take you to First of Many cantref, the original, the Demo-Demo.

The hillside was forested, the trees still young but already concealing most of the craggy outcrops and screes, descending first steeply then more gently to the high fence marking the boundary of the First Reserve. To enter here required unanimous permission from all the surrounding cantrefi, each one of which had a right of veto and each one of which required full agreement from the whole community assembly. As each Cantrefi member also had a right of veto, it was not an easy permission to obtain. It had never been granted, so far.

But the incursor or incursors had not bothered with that.

He flew the drone down towards the fence where the trail led. The tracks were so scant that Spicer had not been able to see them; someone had been needed on the ground and there she was, standing tall and very still, staring through the mesh, up into the Reserve. Spicer brought the drone down to hover a few metres to her left.

“I see you, Jodi,” he said and without turning, she raised a hand in acknowledgement.

Fuck, a fit one, that, he thought, broad, strong shoulders, muscled arms, the solid stance, as though rooted. She's let her hair grow long again- suits her. And she's armed; a thin, black coil hung from her belt.

But what was she seeing? Another reason to curse not being there. Sure, the high definition cameras on the drone were good but they were a poor substitute for actually being there- he couldn't smell anything, for a start.

Jodi pointed at the chain link fence and Spicer zoomed in. Yes, a distortion in the mesh where the toe of a boot had squeezed in. She pointed out another, further up and a little to the left. Now the pattern had been pointed out, Spicer could follow the distortions marking alternate movement of hands and feet, where someone had climbed the fence, close to a vertical post where it was well supported. Then at the top, where they had gone over, what had happened there?

He took the drone up and came in close and this was a surprise. As he'd expected, the top of the mesh was sagging from where the incursor had rolled over to drop down on the other side but the mesh itself was blackened and was the top of that post slightly melted? The surface of the angle iron was rippled with small lumps of metal congealed on it, as if someone had tapped it a few times with an arc welder. A lightning strike during the storm? That would have made the intruder jump!

Jodi climbed the fence easily and he could see she was hanging on with one hand and scraping bits of something from the blackened mesh with a thin knife.

“What you got there, Jodi?”

“Looks like burnt skin,” she said, placing the knife between her teeth and descending.

“I'll get some analysis done,” cleaning the knife into a bag.

Spicer flew the drone over the top of the fence and switched to the downward facing camera. He could see where the rain drenched vegetation had been crushed into the muddy soil.

“looks like they fell off and thrashed about a bit. Pity the lightning didn't kill 'em. Probably lay here for a while, the way the grass is still flat. And then went on in.”

The trail was clear to begin with, the intruder had obviously no longer been concerned with concealing it. Probably still smarting from 100,000 volts or so. Why wasn't he dead? Must be a hard bastard.

After another ten metres or so, any tracks were lost under the trees. There was no point in trying to follow anyway, they'd had over twenty hours start. Could be anywhere in the Reserve by now, or beyond, he thought coldly.

“Can you get your lot to send a drone over with infra-red?” He asked Jodi.

She did not reply. He knew as he asked that they wouldn't want to. Flying anything over the Reserve was banned. Too easy for one to come down and retrieval was not allowed. Last Resort didn't like to lose tech, Spicer knew, didn't like to use it either, preferred people, and good for them! Besides, he knew the hillside and mountain beyond were riddled with shafts and trial levels; he had the feeling this character knew what he or she was doing and where they were going, would know when and where to hide.

Now, if he could have his way, he'd send Jodi in after the bastard. She was a hell of a tracker and shit, a scary, dirty fighter! He'd watched her sparring- no messing about with niceties, get 'em down and out- brutal!

Bollocks, he thought, if I was twenty years younger, I'd go in with her and bugger the cantrefi! Well, maybe forty years younger then.

He brought the drone back out, over the fence and down to hover close to Jodi.

“We done here, girl?”

“Woman,” she corrected, “retro-man. You ever gonna grow up and learn your place?”

“Hey!” He grinned. “Show some respect for age. Us old farts are Clowns!”

“Retro-Clown, then.”

Spicer laughed and then stopped as Jodi beckoned the drone with a curled finger. She moved a few paces to the left and pointed at the fence again.

“Oh, crap,” Spicer said quietly.

It was the same pattern of distortion in the mesh. There had been a second operative, maybe just behind the first, so he or she had missed the lightning strike. He was also beginning to get an idea of what the two intruders might be up to.

“crap, crap, crap.”

Thanks for reading. As always, comments most gratefully received. Next time, more from Konsk and back to Rhia about to meet others on that narrow path. Hwyl pawb!