Demo

[Aardvark]

His senses were alive, every nerve ending on fire, reporting every last scrap of information back to his hyperactive brain. His eyes took in colours outside the normal spectrum, even the faintest of pheremones registering on his nose. He could hear every single small vibration in the area, taste a thousand things on the bitter air. He was alive. And he would stay this way quite a while longer

 

His head darted from side to side, taking in everything. His mental calculator tallying up every target, every weapon, how many in use, the probable level of ammunition in said weapons, in reserve, in crates in vehicles. All it took him was a mere glance and he could describe a target right down to the colour of the stains on his boots, two glances and he could think of a hundred ways to kill that target with his bare hands. Aircurrents rippled past him, telling of the passage of bullets meant for him. But he knew of them before the air did. He knew where every single barrel of every last firearm was pointing. He could sense the likely cone of fire from automatic weapons in the hands of the unskilled, the line of fire from skilled ones and his reflexes, tuned to perfection, ensured his body never even came near any of them.

 

His path through no man's land was erratic. He lept and bounded off various objects, low walls, burnt out vehicle husks, corpses in various states of decay. He never paused, not even to take advantage of the ample cover available in this burnt out city, but he did make use of it. A skilled soldier leads on a moving target, waiting for it to pause. And no target that knows it's a target will pause out of cover. So far, he'd counted well in excess of a thousand rounds of ammunition that would have brought him down, had he dived when they thought he would.

 

Observers had a hard time following his movements, as random as they seemed. He was fleet of foot, but seemed to spend most of his time in the air. Every footfall planned scores of paces in advance, he made his way through the zone, his lips silently counting down. Counting breaths. That was how he saw it. Breaths. Everything tuned to that one necessity. All timed right down to seemingly mechanical precision. Which was how he saw it. The back of his mind ran through the motions, the rest of it took in his surroundings.

 

Fire from the front. Twenty five targets classified alpha, four beta, one gamma. The tags he never thought, but if ever sending a report through his neural coder, that's how it would read. Alpha for armed threats, beta for unarmed threats or armed targets who weren't after him, gammas for anyone not classified as an immediate threat. Could include potential threats, civillians or wounded targets. Those that would be targeted last. A more detailed report showed six machine gun emplacements, eleven automatic rifles, six semi-automatic rifles and one pistol. The longer he remained alive and advancing over the three hundred meters of broken ground, the more targets he counted.

 

He launched himself sideways, then braced his body, feeling the shockwaves from a nearby blast passing through him. Landing on all fours, then pouncing forward, he was off again. He'd moved within launcher range. Gas propelled grenades, he'd expected more of them. It mattered not to him, he'd be in throwing range, soon. The unpredictability of thrown fragmentation grenades concerned him more. Vaulting over a wall, diving, catrolling and continuing, he could feel the faintest hints of enemy heartbeats floating across the hot, acrid air.

 

Razorwire was next. Coils of it between him and the enemy entrenchment. Razorwire in an ex-urban environment... what a waste of good metal. A step, a hop, a twist and his body flopped over the wire, presenting a tauntingly large target that none managed to hit. Landing soft, he picked his first target. Male, age 23. 6'2, 101 Kg. Fresh off a leave of sickness for a fractured funnybone. He saved his laugh for later, vaulting over the last line of sandbags and diving into the target, casually brushing his rifle aside.

 

Two more nearby were aware of the situation, so they were next. One was down before he realised it, a sweeping kick taking his legs out from under him, the other joining him a short time later, his concussion the least of his worries. His immediate situation under control, he unsheathed his blade, held it aloft and...

 

"Sweet merciful Jesus, you're good."

 

Medics were already on hand, treating the three incapacitated privates. None were seriously hurt, just shocked and scared. The 23 year old, who's name ironically turned out to be Brown, would probably be in need of fresh underpants.

 

"Holy hell, son, I haven't seen anything like that. I'd be shaking your hand in welcome aboard, but I'm still shaking from that one." The Major concluded upon approach, a fat cigar hanging from his mouth. Every bit your standard issue major, this one.

 

"I'm honoured to hear it, sir," was the reply. "But I tell you, like I tell every other unit I'm transferred to, I won't be paying for wasted ordinance. That's your probelm, not mine. I'm here to train, that's all."

 

"Well, if we don't learn somethign from you, I'll be a tanned snake in a salad bar, ya hear me."

 

Mildly confused, but hiding it, he casually nodded, then made his way to his awaiting vehicle. A report to his synapses told him the three with the greatest potential to learn what he had to teach were ready for him. This short demonstration being only a minor diversion for him, he almost dreaded to see what this army would be like after his job was over.

 

Thousands of armed individuals, able to dodge bombs and bullets, with an awareness surpassing most of the latest battlefield scanning technology. He smiled at the thought, then reflected. Once upon a time, nuclear weapons were to make conventional weaponry obselete. Then everyone got their hands on it. Now one superpower will have invincible soldiers.

 

Still, he'd heard reports that another was damn near perfecting bio-mechanical soldiers perfectly suited to war and the third major power had begun mass production of a suit of combat augmentation armour said to turn ordinary men into tanks, with lesser powers using technology from genetic engineering to chemical augmentations to beef up their soldiers.

 

And the rumour to end all rumours, the Technologists guild planning to release Energy Weapon technology to the world, a closely guarded secret that even a hint of comprehension of would result in celestial fire raining down on the suspected locations of suspected energy weaponry research faciliities, this really could only mean one thing.

 

The world was ready to end.

Edited March 1, 2004 by Aardvark

[Yuki Kokoro]

Those descriptions gave me goosebumps; you do such a fantastic job with imagery. It's used very skillfully to show just how incredible the main character's senses are, up to and including feeling heartbeats across a war zone. I also thought: "Landing on all fours, then pouncing forward, he was off again" gave a good impression of his movements and skill. Reacting so quickly and precisely to any situation.

 

I really liked this line too: "The longer he remained alive and advancing over the three hundred meters of broken ground, the more targets he counted." This brought a mental picture of more and more soldiers coming into focus until his vision was covered in them.

 

You have a talent for writing absorbing and creative narratives using a style that lends itself to the tone of the piece. As always, wonderful story, I enjoyed it.

[Kalypso]

Quite an amazing action sequence! The pictures you created in my mind are indeed vivid.

 

 

I saw a couple of things you may want to fix...

 

1.

His mental calculator tallying up every target, every weapon, how many in use, the probable level of ammunition in said weapons, in reserve, in crates in vehicles.

The bolded part of the sentence didn't read right. I think it might have to do with over using "in." I think if you reword it, it'll be more reader friendly.

 

2.

even a hint of comprenesion of would result in celestial fire

Just a little typo mistake.