10 Minute Tales

Apr 3

The airlock leading into Sentinel's base was still functional, to their surprise. Sentinel even let air into the airlock, giving them a hesitant moment to breathe. Had Sentinel poisoned the air? Was it even air they could breathe? Queenson was brave enough to remove his helmet first, sighing quietly. The air tasted... strange. No poisons were in the air, according to Error's scanners, so Abe removed his helmet too. The suits were clunky to move in, but both opted to keep wearing them. Sentinel had time to change his mind, after all.

"There's a reason for the atmosphere." Queenson muttered as the three walked down a long, white corridor. The only colour was the light coming from the emergency lights - red, spinning lights that Queenson felt needed a siren. "There's no living technicians up here on a regular basis, is there?"

"No, it seems as though Sentinel denied them access years ago." Abe replied, rifle pointing forward. "The only thing I can think of requiring an atmosphere for is-"

"Intruder!" a new voice bellowed. The two instinctively dived for cover, Error calmly resting against the wall. Another android marched into view, though calling it humanoid was generous. Sporting four massive arms, each ending in a revolving set of barrels, this monstrosity of a machine was more a roaming turret than anything else. These barrels started spinning to life; by the time the first hot slug screamed through the air, the two humans were already behind cover.

"We're never going to get a shot off at this thing without risking our hides!" Queenson yelled, struggling to hear himself over the echoing thunder of the guns.

"Incendiary ammo!" Abe growled. "Of course they would use incendiary ammo now, nothing's around to burn except us!" Queenson stopped at this, looking at his cover. It was a metal box, rattling slightly as the box tried its hardest to withstand the hail of bullets. He shuffled back a fraction of an inch to look at the box's decals; according to a stamp, the box held spare resistors. Nothing he could use, then.

"We need to get closer!" Queenson shouted. He pushed up against the box, grunting as he tried to move it. It didn't budge an inch. He looked over to Abe... but Abe wasn't looking at Queenson, nor at the turret or even Error. He was looking at his own, shaking fists, trembling wilder and wilder. Queenson's eyes widened as he realised. Abe was losing control. "Shit, shit, shit!" he cried, backing away from Abe and pressing against a wall. He had only seen Abe lose control of himself twice, and both times had been enough to merit two months at the psychiatrist's office each. Furious Abe was a beast, a roaring demon that knew no limits - and no control. Abe shoved at the box hard enough to dent it and pushed with all his might, roaring his fury. The turret turned its guns to the moving target; Queenson took the opportunity to fire a volley of shots, disabling all but one of the spinning barrels. By this point, Abe had gotten close enough and leapt out of cover, climbing over the box and pouncing at the machine. Queenson would never have expected any man to win with this tactic. Abe, however, was able to tear a barrel straight off by targeting the joint. The turret was soon disabled, knocked onto its side by the same barrel. Before it could right itself, Abe pummeled it, breaking the chassis open, the circuitry within crumbling like dust under the power of Abe's fury. Queenson glanced at Error. He would not tangle with Abe in a hurry.