The Nature of Change

Firefight (Andy 02)

I wonder why I have to walk today.

Jogging heartily through the crunching leaves of fall, I'm able to ponder the lessons of the day. Designs of thermal control systems, rocket engines, coilguns, all flash through my head, and I tweak them slightly, the stimuli of the day having set tiny dominoes into motion within my brain. I could never stand seeing something done worse than optimally.

I then turn my attention to the more immediate concerns. Scholarships. I've been putting them off for a while, but I need to do them if I ever want to get around to building those mechanisms for a living. I resolve to check the list-

A rustle in the grass behind me, falling into the rhythm of my footsteps. The tiny offset as the feet behind me accelerate their owner up to match me tips me off.

Somebody's on my six.

Down the hill I plunge, strategically sticking my hand into the pocket of my hoodie and lowering the volume a few notches, then varying my stride. There it is again. I'm being followed.

But... why?

I need to keep running, ponder a plan, and yet seem to remain oblivious.

What do I do? I think.

I look around. There's a convenient alleyway off to the side, where I might be able to duck into hiding fast enough to get the drop on my chaser. Unless there were more... but why would the guy on my six have reinforcements? What could he want, that he needed reinforcements?

I judge it a safe bet. I push off hard, and sprint into the alleyway. A muffled "shit" issues from behind me as I round the corner, ducking in behind the dumpster that's blocking part of the shady lane. A cul-de-sac greets my left, while I press myself to the massive green metal cuboid on my right. I try to ignore its waste-stained walls and reach into my backpack.

What are the odds that I finish my laser the day before I end up needing it?

Apparently pretty good, seeing as I'm having to slam its parts together and slip it into my pocket for a quick draw right this second. I pop out my headphones by accident, so I shove them hastily into my pocket. I can't afford a soundtrack to distract me now.

My pursuer stops just around the edge; I can hear him clearly now.

I tense.

A hand hits my back.

I let out a yelp of surprise, spin around, and instinctively swipe the laser out of my pocket.

The guy behind me, dressed in all black, with a balaclava on to hide his face and a black backpack with an oddly shaped cylinder in a side pocket, looks at me in what seems to be stunned surprise. He hadn't gotten me in a good hold before I spun. (Yet another lucky break that I'd later look back on with gratitude.)

Then I twitch just the wrong way, and the guy goes from having two arms to one.

He lets out a scream of pain as twenty waves of photons slam into his arm with four times the energy of a typical pistol bullet. Flesh boils, bone shatters under the force of suddenly expanding plasma, and an explosion of blood and muscle spews across both of us. His lower arm drops, suddenly under the effects of gravity, hitting the ground with a hideous thunk.

I quickly spin to face the other guy, who picks that moment to leap out from the other side of the dumpster. He holds what looks like a miniature AK-47 in his hand - no, a disconnected part of me abstractly notices, that's a Heckler and Koch HP5 - but the second he sees that I'm ready for him, he lifts it away and turns his palms towards me.