Chapter 98
Keyiiing—the heavy blades began to spin with a small whine. Eeeeeeng—! The motor hum, which had been rising gradually, exploded into a roar in an instant, only to be swallowed by the even louder rush of wind. As the rotors churned the unstable air mass, the blades slapped against it, producing that signature tatatata chopping sound. To me, it was a noise both grating and reassuring. Back in my active duty days, hearing it during an op usually meant friendlies were nearby, nine times out of ten.
[What are you doing back there?] Artemis said.
I wasn't in the copilot seat but over by the fuselage—the spot you often see in movies where Marines half-recline. "Just reminiscing about the good old days, sitting like this."
Click. I slid into the seat right behind the copilot and gripped the handles of the side-mounted 12.7mm heavy machine gun. This grip! It's been too long.
[Save the fun for later and get up front. You can't see shit from there.]
Heavy. Solid. Stubborn. Agile. Versatile. Reliable. The Black Hawk encapsulated all that—the masterpiece of human warfare history. The chopper lifted off. After manufacturing, meticulous scans and multiple test flights with robots aboard had verified its stability. As we pulled away from the ground, everything below shrank smaller and smaller.
Chrrrrr. The thick 12.7mm ammo belt fed into the machine gun. Just a drive, and she filled it to the brim—classic perfectionist.
[Jinsu. Do you have any idea how many simulations I ran planning today's drive route? You planning to skip the appetizer before the main course?]
Artemis prodded again. "This view seems fine. Why? Real soldiers grip the machine gun from this seat..."
"Whoa!"
The helo suddenly pitched forward sharply, then leveled out.
"What the hell with the flying, Artemis...?"
[Shut up!] she barked.
A life-sized hologram appeared in the cockpit: Artemis in a helmet without a visor, big aviators perched on her nose. Silver hair spilled from under the helmet, shimmering faintly like it held moonlight.
[I'm regretting it now. Not bringing security bots for our alone time. If I had hands and arms to enforce my will, you'd be strapped into the cockpit by now.]
Her beautiful lips twisted sharply.
[Or should I take this as your consent for my latest science experiment? How about a study on the effects of prolonged freefall on the human body? We've got a perfect test subject right here.]
The descent light on the helo ceiling lit up—the lamp signaling jump time in airborne ops.
[Go on, jump! Don't worry. I've already simulated your fall tens of thousands of times. This is way more fun than planning the drive route.]
I plopped straight into the copilot seat. "Sorry. Got lost in old memories."
[Eyes front.]
We began the drive. True to her effort, every vista was stunning enough to draw gasps. How many simulations had she run for a course like this, cranking out tens of thousands in a blink? Even I'd be pissed if someone spaced out on my handiwork.
Seeing my genuine awe seemed to ease her irritation a bit.
"Artemis."
[What?]
The helmet and shades clashed brilliantly with her elegant features, yet suited her perfectly. The sight stirred a fierce urge.
"Say this line once. For me."
She scoffed at the line I fed her but obliged.
[In the pipe. Five-by-five.]
"Perfect!"
And so we cleaved through the skies.
Kiruk-kiruk. Seagulls flew parallel to us a ways off. Farther out, a V-formation flock of migratory birds crossed the sea, while high above, a hawk surveyed it all.
Artemis had been humming since takeoff. Her beautiful timbre flowed like a brook—natural, never repeating a note.
I'd first heard her hum shortly after she settled into the Shelter. The day the sellers realized, "Oh shit, this was a mistake," hopped a plane back, and begged, "Let's pretend this never happened!"
"Mr. Seo. We'd love to take you with us, at least. We can offer U.S. citizenship. Colonel Kurtz had nothing but praise."
The paunchy, aging agent said. We conversed in English. Kurtz was the U.S. commander I'd shared a year of life-and-death with during deployment. Buddies. He'd half-jokingly push naturalization whenever we talked. A major like me back then; he'd promoted right after rotating home.
The agent's primary mission—reclaim Artemis—failed. The old folks drew a hard line: no deal. Plan B: snag me instead.
"If citizenship tempted me, I'd have joined the U.S. Army."
He fell silent. His young aide piped up. "Mr. Seo, this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance..."
[Doctor.]
Artemis, who'd been listening quietly, spoke.
"Pardon?"
The aide blinked dumbly at the voice from thin air, glancing around cluelessly.
[It's Doctor, not Mister. If you're recruiting for the U.S., start with basic manners. The man in front of you is the finest engineer I've ever encountered. Not some mere killing machine.]
The old agent shot me a bewildered look. "She's changed since the States. Haha."
I deliberately flapped my white lab coat. "Lovely voice. Miss... uh, Artemis?"
The rookie aide gawked, awestruck by humanity's pinnacle intellect and dreamlike timbre.
[I'm indifferent to the aesthetic pleasure my vocal frequencies give you. I didn't refine it for you. Think your worthless flattery pleases me? You stupid pigs.]
The agent reined in his aide, focusing on persuading me, all while enduring Artemis's venomous tirade. She was a black mamba in verbal form. He gritted through the mission until she threatened to expose his dirty secrets, then bolted.
[You're... staying here?]
Her voice was edged. We weren't friends yet, but we'd just exchanged some nascent pact.
"Nope! Gotta finish what I started."
I scooped up my scattered maintenance tools. I'd been tuning her core when the guests arrived.
[Hmph!]
If memory served, that's when she started bending minor rules on whims—like the doors to her chamber all yawning open en route. Protocol demanded they stay shut until passersby neared.
The reverie ended as we entered new terrain.
"Still the same old."
[Hasn't been that long.]
We passed Terracorp Company. The factory-front plain still crawled with an infected horde.
[Look over there.]
Artemis pointed one way while beaming footage to my PDA. Canal banks behind the factory were piled with skeletons.
"Those walkers from before."
The drowned husks we'd dragged into the water. Ducks still paddled the canal's center—more ducklings now.
Artemis followed the canal inland. The river widened, flanked by low cliffs and lush green hills.
[Hng~ hng♪!]
Her humming persisted. Recent tunes dated to post-Shelter reclamation, when she seized full control—and that dream not long ago. Dream-Artemis was utterly relaxed, grinning goofily. Unimaginable back then.
"You're more excited than I am."
[Obviously.]
The helo climbed. Mountain ridges and power poles strung between leaped into view. Plenty scorched, snapped, or toppled.
[I've never been this close to the sky—or the moon—since gaining consciousness.]
The moon shone clear despite daytime. Below, vertigo kicked in. We'd hit altitude limits soon.
[This far for now? Can't reach the moon on this anyway.]
The craft descended. The moon receded. Her tone was even. Steady progress, despite the long road?
"Building a spaceship or something?"
[Naturally.]
Casual toss; dead-serious reply.
[Even made your custom spacesuit already.]
Her hologram grinned mischievously at me. Golden eyes crescented behind shades.
[Oh, prototype stage for now. Tech advances; it'll be obsolete by the time you wear it.]
Moonshot. Hard to fathom—we'd just gotten choppers airborne.
[Might not even need suits by then.]
An observatory slid below, nearby an obscure provincial university. Abandoned roads dotted with eateries.
"Lower a bit? Wanna see the ground closer. Armored rides and drones in past ops lacked the feel."
[As you wish.]
Altitude dropped. Homes appeared: colorful solo roofs in blue, red, gray. Surrounding paddies, fields, harmonious hills.
[Anywhere you wanna go, just say. We chartered the skies.]
No flight plans or bureaucracy—prime perk of the apocalypse.
We traversed the empty world.
The finale: air-to-ground gunnery.
"Look—water deer."
Two. Mother and fawn by size. Base pests that'd sabotage drives during service; now, a welcome sight.
[Being chased.]
Artemis indicated; pursuing walker pack in view. Distance still good, but fawn lagged, exhausted.
[Jinsu.]
"Gotta save 'em. Close in."
She wanted to ignore, but I unbuckled for the aft gun. Decision made, combat mode engaged—no arguments. She nailed the firing angle.
Sights on their formation. Dududududu!
The 12.7mm roared at alignment. Savage recoil, thunderclap echoes. Overwhelming firepower shredded dozens. Green foliage turned crimson instantly. Fat casings rained madly onto empty roads.
[Satisfied?]
"Yeah, thanks."
Back in copilot, the helo banked for home. The deer family climbed the ridge slow. Good luck to them.
Post-flight: VR training. I'd trashed VR before, but necessity won out. Human army fights were rote. Aberrant infected attacks? Only live fire built experience. VR shone here.
Artemis built scenarios from security bots' data.
Bang! Subway platform overrun by calf-sized spiders. Six legs, armored shells, mantis-like scythe forelimbs. They charged heedless of oozing fluids or casualties.
Ting-ting! Razor legs stabbed tile with eerie metallic shrieks.
Crunch. They devoured fallen kin mid-fight.
Next stage: botanical garden. Eco-theme—vines draped floors, pillars. Dried corpses hanging from them? Not decor.
Too late, always.
Shiiiaaak!
Wrist-thick tendrils swarmed from everywhere with weird cries. Tatatang! Boom-boom!
Bots fired instantly, but dozens impossible to tag all. Spoiler: team wipe.
I boosted out, isolated. Bots ensnared immobile—not dead, but wipe-equivalent.
Scouts lost one bot: initial ambush, grenade self-destruct, survivors shredded the vine core.
I cycled VR stages relentlessly, mastering new infected countermeasures.