Page 68 of The Omega's Unexpected Bounty
***
I was on the floor again and yet wasn’t. Hands that weren’t mine moved while I looked up at two giants. The one with long dark-brown hair was thinner but the most dangerous. The other was out and no help. Peter’s headless sim was back on the floor, and I worried what that meant for him.Can’t do anything about that, but this is something I can do.
My new mouth pursed into a sad grin. Caan had issues with seeing me, but his little copy didn’t. I learned about Tiny and what my son did with him. They had a strange hive-mind when they were together, but everything that made the simhimwas gone. I heard the Volardi don’t consider them real, but that little guy was the closest thing I had to a friend in decades.
I’ll fuck him up for you buddy.
This pint-sized robot wasn’tmybody, but it wasn’t hard to get used to. I had experience with connections back in the colony, but this was so much more andbetter. The situation was serious, but I couldn’t help but grin. I hate the old Nate, he did shitty things because hecouldor had something to prove. I didn’t like what I was, except I had muscles and fighting ability so nobody – except the Volardi – could push me around. After twenty years, I had strength again. I wasn’t just strong, I was a hand-sized sim with superhuman strength. Mentally I was me, but physically?I’m a goddamn superhero.
“Hey!” I shouted, with a voice that wasn’t mine but I’d have temporarily or for the rest of my life if it ended soon.
The king jerked up, turned around and looked down with a smirk. His purple eyes lingered on the jail cell, and he smiled in understanding. “Ah yes, the Omega’sfather. Did you escape to attack another Volardi’s mate? That is what you do isn’t it?”
Tiny’s body didn’treallybreathe out deep, this sim had no need, but it mimicked habits. “Shouldn’t you be acting like a real king or dad?”
His lips pursed into a frown. “I don’t have time for thislittleman. However, I will take one indulgence, when I win, expect another colony where no one will ever find you. Instead of twenty years of servitude, it’ll be centuries.”
I frowned – not because of my nightmares – but I forgot to start the recording. A few seconds of concentration fixed that as the icon overlay in my vision. Either he’d destroy me and the one in the cell, or I’d win. A video could only help. I swallowed hard and looked up. I fought bigger men before, but not for long at the colony. They beat it out of me fast both with their fists or other things. Each left me sore and not in a mood to battle. I knew how to handle myself, but the Volardi made me so weak, I could barely lift anything. It doesn’t matter what you know then. Plenty of guys back home thought their Mixed Martial Arts was enough. There are a few absolutes with fighting. Go with the strongest or biggest guy. I wasn’t the biggest – not when I can fit under somebody’s foot, but I might be strong where it counts.
“Let’s do this,” I said. “Dad Fight. May the best one win.” Our lives were on the line, but I couldn’t help but grin at howcoolthis was. Glowing lines overlaid in my vision with suggestions on where to jump. That with my instinct showed me several ways I could attack him. For all I knew, he had something similar, but he was further away. Whatever connection he had, was probably delayed since we were under solid rock. I might be wrong, but it was a nice wish.
His moves as he ducked were quick, but I was faster. Several of his foot stomps missed me. With superpowered strength, ‘Tiny’ me leaped up, and I hit him square in the nose. A punch like that would hurt anybody, but all that physical energy went into a fingernail-size punch. Skin tore off and turned into a grey-white goo. I knew it wouldn’t hurt him as bad as it looked. That wasn’t the point. There’s a saying back on Earth: “Everyone’s got a plan until they get punched in the face.” I’m guessing nobody hit a king there, and he wasn’t used to it.
I scurried on his back – punching and pulling skin as I went – then called for his attention once I was on the floor. He turned to kick, I ducked and ran full force into his other foot. No matter how strong somebody is, I can knock them off balance. This was another rule about fighting; get the other guy down, the person on top has the advantage. My little tiny body couldn’t hold him down, but I could keep him from stomping me down with his foot.
Whatever issues the king had, he realized hand to hand couldn’t continue. The orbs hovered around me with a steady hum, then tightened their circle. I jumped, and I heard the electric snap and crackle. It was the same thing they used on Tiny and erased him from existence. What they used before was enough, but the arcs and charges were longer and brighter. This wouldn’t delete a now non-existent Tiny, it would send a feedback loop that might frymybrain. Even if I survived, it took Peter a few minutes to regain consciousness – before he lost it again. You could do a lot of evil in a few minutes. Visions of me back on Earth went through my mind, and I frowned.Ain’t that the truth?Orbs darted in zig-zags as they hunted me down. Despite my best efforts, a few of them hit their target, or this body naturally attracted electricity. They didn’t shut me down, but my punches didn’t go as fast. All I needed was a few more shocks, and they would slow me enough. Once that happened, I’d be fried.
Think…The old Nate used his strength to get what he wanted. I had to use my brain to survive on the colony and here. The orbs were attracted to this sim, every lucky spark sent me further into permanent decommission. Punches that blurred earlier turned slow or didn’t tear through his unnatural skin like before.Then stop punching dumbass.
Back and forth I went from the floor to the stone walls. Thanks to the natural grooves and holes, my tiny feet and hands had enough of a temporary grip, before I jumped again. Like a flock of birds or cartoon bees, the orbs jerked back and forth, zig-zagging while they flew closer with every pass. I waited until I ‘sensed’ the electric field and discharge around me while I leaped for his head. It was a good idea, but I wished for a better one. This might erase the recording and wipe me.
Sparks arced around me and I had time for one last thought before I willed the body to let go.My life is over like it was twenty years ago. At least I did something decent before I left.
My real eyes opened while sim vision shifted. I saw the top of my jail cell and King Delius head jerked back and forth like television channels fighting to show you their show. My head throbbed with agony. The closest thing I could think of was someone inflating a balloon inside my brain while my real body convulsed on the floor. I wiped at my face, and warm, slick blood and spit slid over my shaky hand. Through blurry vision, I saw Delius’ sim fall toward the floor while its mouth opened in a silent scream.
Beyond him, Caan mirrored the yell. Instead of falling, his hand went to his stomach as he scrunched into an almost fetal position.
My vision darkened, and I had time for a few last thoughts.Oh shit. I know that look. I had it twenty years ago. Caan’s about to deliver.
***
Chapter Thirty-Eight
CAAN
I wonder how much ‘Tiny-Pa’ saw while he fought, and maybe it’s best if he didn’t see my taut fetal position; it might have cost him the fight. A sensation like a heavy rock sitting in my stomach and my lower back squeezed together revisited several times between sobs.
Each time was a bit worse than before. All the while, invisible stabs shot out from within my stomach. I was a mess, but nothing compared to the surrounding room. My Pa’s real body was behind the flickering purple force field. Graden was on the floor with his face away from me. I yelled for him several times to wake up. All that did was make him moan. My fingers raced over the armrest, and the hoverchair lowered until I tapped the stone ground. With one hand on my stomach, I pounded against his back. I’m not as strong as him, but every fisted hit left red marks on his back.
Oh... no.I couldn’t see much, but he reminded me of a few men back home that weren’t ‘around’ anymore. In a fight, most people left to the Great Unknown after a bullet in the chest or a knife in the gut. Men with muscles the size of thick tree trunks were more than capable of killing someone with one blow.What would a super strong sim do? I think I know.
Another stab came through my stomach while I thought. “Nate,” I screamed. Like with Graden all he did was mumble.
‘Balo’ or rather King Delius was out – if the faint curls of smoke coming from the open, blackened mouth were any indication. Tiny was fried as well or double cooked if you considered what happened to Nate. Peter’s sim was sliced at the head. Not necessarily enough to take one out, but he wasn’t over here helping me. I had to assume the worst. Actually, no I don’t.That means Peter got his head fried too.
My gaze went down to the chair’s power levels. It was lower than I wanted but more than I had before. Thanks to Tiny, he gave me enough power to keep using it and the matter Re-creator options.Wait that’s it.
A medical orb would be great, but hoverchairs had limited functions. They could adjust themselves and give a pregnant Omega relief from back agony. My fingers tapped the buttons and asked for several items of reducing complexity. A red-orb gun to overload the field wasn’t available. Explosives were forbidden. Another sim was too complicated. An orb to shock Graden was deemed dangerous. All this could do was change shape, create simple items from its mass and float.Wait a second.“Computer. Create a stomach band of the following length,” I held out my hands wide, “and make a hitching post on my left armrest.” It took less than a minute before another scream came which unfortunately didn’t wake up anyone. I couldn’t see my face, but I felt beads of sweat pool on my head, and I grunted through each contraction. With my tank top, I didn’t need the band around my stomach. Volardi Smart-Fiber was enough to keep my stomach in place, but sometimes you need all the help you can get. I looped it around Graden’s arm and then to the hitching post. Like a stubborn horse, the chair dragged him along the stone floor that saw a battle minutes ago. Two times I had to stop while I got ‘stabbed’ in the gut by more contractions.
