Larry hit Rook with enough force that he felt it inside the armor. It wasn’t concussion-inducing force, or even particularly painful, but solid. He grabbed for a good hold on Rook’s armor, but missed the wings. The Frog suit’s claws scraped all the way down Rook’s sides, and for a second Larry thought he felt the armor give, but then it ripped out of the suit’s grip.
He fell, and hit the ground. It wasn’t a big deal.
The suit could easily take a forty foot drop. It was made for it. The hind legs hit first, absorbing the hit. The front legs followed, doing the same while all the legs adjusted position to balance. Larry hit a button, sending the suit after the glowing red dot that indicated Rook.
The suit twisted and turned quickly enough that Larry couldn’t remember if the suit was designed to prevent the user from turning so quickly he blacked out. If not, he thought, that would be something to add. Continue reading Enter the Larry: Part 10
Ten minutes later, the crowd started screaming.
The announcer shouted, “The Murdilator wins! The paramedics are taking Electroman out of the arena, and in five minutes you’ll be able to see the next round—Rook versus Frog! That’s right, the up and coming Rook versus a brand new opponent in powered armor. All that, in just FIVE minutes. Get your drinks and snacks now because you won’t want to miss a second of it.”
Larry took a breath, realizing that he actually felt nervous. And how crazy was that? It was just a fight. How many of those had there been in the last few years? This time his opponent would at least be human, and a kid at that. He’d seen worse.
No denying though, that Rook probably hated him, and wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. Continue reading Enter the Larry: Part 9
“You didn’t have to do that!” The kid shouted, and tried to brush the tears from his eyes, but mostly succeeded in smearing whatever she’d sprayed on him.
By that time, Larry was within reach—just a couple steps down.
The kid muttered something, and as he pulled one hand away from his face, Larry saw that the kid had made a fist.
It wasn’t much of a punch. He swung wildly, missing by more than a foot.
Cheryl stepped backwards, moving unsteadily up the stairs, away from the punch. The high heels and mini-skirt didn’t do her any favors.
Larry grabbed the kid’s forearm from behind as the kid recovered from his swing, and then grabbed the kid’s bicep with his left hand.
“Relax, kid.” Continue reading Enter the Larry: Part 6
“Rook?” Larry tried to remember if he’d ever heard the name before. “What, does he have some kind of chess theme?”
Alexis shook his head. “I don’t think so. He has wings.”
Larry frowned. “What’s a rook look like anyway?”
“His armor is black. It seems very like a crow. I do not think we have rooks in Cuba.”
Larry gave an grunt in reply, and looked back toward his suite. Could Lim be done debugging the room yet? He doubted it, and he doubted that the Feds would understand why he was friends with Alexis at all. Most of them wouldn’t have the clearance to read the reports they’d need to find out either.
“You want to go somewhere? Talk, maybe?” Continue reading Enter the Larry: Part 5
I’d have gone for the gun except it had no trigger, and so far as I knew fired at the mental command of only one person on the planet—Cassie.
Instead, I raised my arms, targeting Rook’s arm. Knowing that someone’s about to kill your best friend, your sister, and your girlfriend doesn’t make for clear thinking.
I fired off the roachbots, not paying attention to what I was firing or how many, aiming at his arm.
The roachbots hit, knocking his arm sideways while simultaneously exploding—again and again, like popcorn.
Continue reading Breaking & Entering: Part 7
Not all of the Rook suits were the kind I’d fought back in Grand Lake. Most seemed to be stripped down. You wouldn’t want to be tapping on a keyboard with enough force to smash a tank.
You’d run through a lot of keyboards that way. I knew that from experience.
Anyway, the stripped down models seemed to have smaller guns under the forearms. Sub-machine guns, maybe?
That wouldn’t be a big threat to the Rocket suit unless they had special ammunition—which I couldn’t rule out.
Continue reading Breaking & Entering: Part 6
I digested that information in my head, and said, “I think the two of you should get out. Neither of you are immune to nerve gas, right?”
Jaclyn shook her head. Izzy looked down at me, asking, “But what about you?”
“The suit’s air tight, and the original Rocket fought gas using villains in the 80’s. Actually, he fought Dr. Madness as far back as the 50’s. So the suit should be able to handle it.”
“Should?” Jaclyn raised an eyebrow, and looked steadily at me.
“Will,” I said. Continue reading Breaking & Entering: Part 3
“Don’t move, or we’ll shoot!” Some kind of gun hung under each forearm of the lead guy—just like they’d hung under the forearms of Grandpa’s armor during World War 2.
On the one hand that could be a fanboy thing—Rook had said he’d admired Grandpa. On the other, it could just be more convenient.
The robot birds hovered near the top of hall, staying between us and them.
Filtering out the wings’ flapping, the Rocket suit’s newly enhanced ability to amplify sound turned noise into speech.
A tenor voice with a Midwestern accent said, “Teenaged girls? I’m shaking in my boots.” Continue reading Breaking & Entering: Part 2
The flunky started hitting himself, and screaming, his voice reminding me again that this was Davis, the guy who’d made the offer to Courtney.
I wondered for a moment how much damage I wanted to do to him. I had questions for him, after all, but that didn’t matter as much as I’d have thought.
Rook’s suits were pretty well constructed.
The bots wedged themselves into cracks, but they did a lot more damage to the powered armor than the person inside. Plus, after the first wave, I brought in a wave of EMP bots.
The first wave withdrew as the second settled on him. He stopped hitting himself for a moment, and adjusted his footing, probably in preparation for attacking me—or possibly escaping.
Then the EMP bots exploded. Continue reading A Kind of Small Crow: Part 10
Unfortunately, it was also an idea that I had to use quickly instead of thinking through the implications.
The last time I’d pointed the guitar’s explosive end at a guy in powered armor, it had nearly killed him. Only Alex’s ability to heal had kept the man from bleeding out.
Alex wasn’t anywhere around here. I definitely wasn’t going to have time to fly to California to pick him up.
But still… Continue reading A Kind of Small Crow: Part 7