Chương 9: Openings

Been needing something to justifiably hit all day. Dr. Way was putting that offer right in front of me like she dropped a juicy steak in a shark's lap. I didn't know if sharks had laps, but that's how I felt about it. The scientist gestured for me to follow her further into her lab, where there was no end to random crap and scrap.

"You ever deal with any hoarder interventions before?" I asked, which was followed by her shaking her head.

"It's only hoarding if it's useless. A lot of this is raw material I use on multiple concurrent projects. By next month this lab'll be empty and I'll need the team credit card to refill it again." I should've expected that answer. At this point, she had led me to the closest thing to an open spot in the room, and even that was a roughly two hundred square foot area, if I had to give a precise guess. Mind, I only had reference based on newspaper ads for apartment rooms. Sitting in the middle was...

I didn't know what it was. It was made of some white material that looked like plastic, the kind of plastic you find on cars, not toys. It had a thin body and a fat, bulbous "head" of some sorts, and a wide, flat base. To be quite frank, I had no polite way of describing its appearance in that department. Sticking out of it were an array of metal struts that all held different items, six struts in total. I couldn't tell if they were limbs or something else.

"This is a combat dummy I've put together on and off for the past few months for testing everyone's abilities. One of the big things is it uses improvised items I've packed inside it, to cover a variety of situations, and it adapts using a logic model." I cocked my head- I need to stop doing that. This time my head only tilted about twenty degrees. But my eyebrow was raised enough to make it clear I was confused.

"What's a logic model?" I asked. Way kept padding along over to a table with a laptop at it.

"It's something called a neural network. I'm basically using a bunch of processing units to simulate how a brain thinks and plans, and I've given it instructions to evaluate decisions in real time using a consistent system of logic. It's... honestly only really good for about three to four steps of logic before it has to reset back to the start with a new item, over and over. It does remember previous encounters to feed into its logic, but it can only remember little bits at a time.

It's not useful in a combat scenario outside of testing since it can only focus on one combatant at a time and its short memory means it can't win a battle of attrition when you don't have to fight it. And also it can't leave its spot." She did a little wavy jazz-hands gesture.

"I call it Sandy." Had to just shake my head in concession.

"I only kind of got about... maybe a third of that." She nodded.

"That's okay. I do want to teach you guys more about how this all works because it's good to spread knowledge around. What parts did you get?" I shrugged.

"It's a punching bag that hits back and tries to adapt to me?" She gave two very bony thumbs up.

"You got the important parts! Here's the thing though, while Sandy's very limited, in a one-on-one it's won every single time. I want you to just do something really basic for me for the test when I say go. I just want you to start about five feet away, then walk over and push Sandy over." Straightforward enough." You do that, test is passed. But Sandy is allowed to use every tool it has inside it to stop you, and if you stop aggressing for more than 20 seconds, Sandy wins.

To make it fair, you're allowed to bust its arms. I made the limbs out of cheaper materials on purpose. But just keep in mind, no one's won yet. So don't feel bad if you lose. Sound good?" Finally I had cast a glance at Sandy. I actually wasn't sure how this thing could be a problem. Most things just don't hurt me. I couldn't imagine this being any different.

"Sounds good." I was honestly a little disappointed; this didn't sound very combat-y at all. She smacked away at some thing on her laptop, and Sandy whirred to life." Just go step on the big cross right in front of it." Glancing down, lo and behold, there was an X made out of white duct tape. I stepped on to it, bringing my fists up. My gaze traveled over to Christian, who had been silent yet again. He raised an eyebrow as I stanced up, deciding to comment on it."

You're keeping your hands too far down and your chin too high up. Your feet are a bit too close together too, you could be pushed over." I looked at him like he had five heads.

"Did you forget who you're talking to?" He shrugged.

"The guy I flipped over earlier today?" Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Rolling my eyes, I brought my attention back to Sandy. Dr. Way called out "Okay, go!" I started moving in. The dummy brought one arm towards me. It had a boxing glove on it. The glove shot out towards my face, which didn't do much to daunt me. I just placed a palm on the glove and shoved forward.

That looked like it was checkmate, but I noticed due to how the arms were set up, the arm itself snapped well before most of the force would apply to the dummy. So I kept a grip on the boxing glove, now dismembered from its machine limb, and hucked it at Sandy. The dummy seemed to just wobble, which was a very new reaction to anything I'd done before.

"Oh yeah I put a helicopter's Jesus nut in the base so that you couldn't go light on it." Well, I couldn't complain. Meant I could actually stretch my legs a little. I stepped in to reach for its body, only for another arm to go in my face, with a... plastic spray bottle. Sprtz. My eyes were full of water, which I instinctively reached up to wipe off. By the time my vision was free, it sprayed me again. I conceded on vision for that moment. I'd just blink it out. Easily enough, I slapped another arm off.

I had thought the worst tricks were done until the follow-up came with a bag of fucking flour like I was fighting a head chef. The water and flour clung together, gluing my eyelids together and forcing me to step back just to clear my vision before returning for an assault. That was when I was then met with a metal tube, raised up and facing me. A little metallic finger pressed a lever on the top, and I could see a thin stream of orange. My face was, for the first time in my life, on fire.

It burned like I was getting an early preview of where I was going to end up after I died. I hadn't felt physical pain in ten years and I really wasn't fond of the sudden reunion.

"The Hell was that!?" I yelled out, half-slurred from mucus falling out of my nose.

"Never been pepper sprayed before?" Dr. Way seemed actually surprised. Fighting my words out through the torture, I shouted back, "I ambush people so I don't!" I thought I yelled that at least. I could barely feel my face. It felt impossible to tell how much time had passed, but I wasn't gonna let this do me in. I forced my eyes open, which prompted a screaming agony I think I actually couldn't find the heart to wish on my worst enemies, and managed to yank the pepper spray arm off.

By the time I did that, however, I saw a bright yellow pistol pointed at me.

"A gun-" I yelled, until I felt a cold sensation in my chest. I looked down. That wasn't a bullet hole. Two thin metal rods pushed through my shirt, connected by thin wires back to the weapon. This was why I wore jackets, damn it. Electricity ran a marathon through me, my entire body tensing up. I could barely even move my legs. I felt mucus and spit falling out of my face as I screamed myself half-deaf. Any humiliation I felt about this frankly hurt even more than the pepper spray.

Not worse than the taser, however. I stumbled forward, and every muscle in my body fought me for that. There was an internal mutiny against the idea of movement, and I refused to let them win. I felt a burning in my left bicep as I brought the limb up, grabbing at the body of Sandy. Couldn't be possible to see it, but there was no stopping being able to feel it. My fingers dug in and its shell crumpled like paper. Another cold sensation hit me, this time in my forearm, as I saw a metal cleaver sticking into it.

It couldn't seem to get past bone, and I thanked everything above that I kept my arm that day. And to return the favor to them, I started pushing. My other arm won its civil war against its own tendons and grabbed the cleaver to keep the dummy's arms from swinging around some more, and gave me the room to push. More water bottles and flour bags and sledgehammers and pepper spray came up trying to intercept me, until I heard a POW from what I hoped was the Jesus nut snapping free.

I tried to open my eyes, my body turning numb at this point from the pain, and when they cracked open I was somehow hurtling through the air. I ended up landing on my back, staring at the concrete ceiling. The next thing I saw was an alien with a fuzzy head spray something else in my eyes, which should prompt broken limbs at this point, but I was too tensed up to even bother. This spray, at least, seemed to wash away the agony in my face. When the pain wasn't screaming anymore, sound returned.

"-saline and milk to wash away the irritants. I think he's coming to. Leo, are you okay?" Oh, it was Samantha.

"What the Hell was all that?" I slurred out. She shrugged as she procured a cloth and began wiping up portions of my face.

"Someone finally beating Sandy. Chris had to hurl you off because the taser was stuck to you, and if he didn't intercept you would've probably had a heart attack. And I got a lot of combat data out of you!" She seemed a bit too giddy that she nearly killed me.

"It's all stuff that's super important for you to know too. You still feel pain. You're as electrically conductive as any human. Sharp objects seem to be able to penetrate your skin, but fail to get deep. Blunt force is useless on you. Now that we know, I can pass that information up to Perry for suit materials!" I groaned out, "Explain later please." I then tried pushing myself to my feet, and the pain in my arm finally caught my attention as I glanced down at the blood pouring from it. Dr.

Way let out an "Oh crap-" and dug into her bag, pulling a jar of something out. Opening it, she acquired a thick pink powder and slapped it onto my arm.

"Just a quick clotter. I'm gonna need to properly treat this but we don't need you losing blood. I got plenty for bloodwork now though!" She grinned like I would be at all excited by this news. Talking hurt but I needed to make sure the most important part was said.

"You've got all your information now, right? Am I done? No more prodding?" I turned my head, feeling my neck complain about all the movement to see Christian. He was heaving with fatigue. Was it that hard to throw me? It seemed easy to him the last time. It was worth keeping in mind. My ear rang with Dr. Way's voice.

"I have to make sure your arm is treated first. If you can cooperate with me there and let me patch you up, I've got more than enough to look into. You've got my word on it!" As much as that means. I slowly pushed myself up from the concrete floor while my legs protested holding me up, but I proved persuasive enough to stay standing. Dr. Way led me towards what she called her infirmary, and I let out a deep, shuddery breath. Damn did it feel good to win.