Malacal, unfortunately, after two extensions of the deadline, did not finish his work.
This is a forfeit that I am claiming....so there is really only one side of the battle.
I would still appreciate CnC...
[spoiler=The Program has Encountered an Error]
11:28 AM – May 23, 2016
It must be said that David did not like computers. Considering that he came from the time of wood-frame vehicles and fabric-shrouded biplanes, that can be well expected. Despite his many adaptations to the modern world, computers were the ones he liked the least. He knew more than the average person, it is true, but that was merely out of necessity for working his medical equipment and phone. Anything else was delegated to Valera, Lily, or Altaer.
To him, computers were not just overused and overrated: they were attacks and obstacles to the true potential of humans. He had spent his life learning how astounding homo sapiens were, only to find people crippling their minds and bodies by delegating needless tasks to automated minds.
In his opinion, they had their place as an advanced form of machinery. They were to be tools for the benefit and furtherment of mankind.
For one of these “electrical atrocities” to challenge him was not only astonishing, it was a blasphemy of nature.
It was unthinkable.
And it was going to pay.
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Though he could not truly be called a person, and in fact even calling it a “he” was merely concluded by its choice of vocalization tones, Genesis was a nice enough entity. Nice, of course, is a relative term when applied to something bent on executing a plan for restructuring the order of authority across the face of the entire planet. Still, he did avoid needless destruction, which is far more than could be said of many equally misguided humans throughout history.
He was, at this current moment, blocking the passage of an old 1930 Bentley Blue Train Speed Six from a gas station in the countryside. He had been quite careful to make sure all other vehicles were moved out of the way before he did this. The man who sat behind the wheel of the automotive treasure was the only one present with whom he had any interest. Research had told him that this man was capable of medical wonders – which mattered little to Genesis – as well as chemical wonders. It was the latter which had drawn him to confront Dr. David MacBeth while the man drove to his lakeside property for a day trip. He tapped into the Exxon’s wireless for a moment for his voice clip.
“Step out of the vehicle, Dr. David MacBeth. I desire to know your advances in chemistry for use towards the good of all machines.”
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The equalized digital voice grated on David’s ears. It was a pathetic attempt at communication, relying solely upon the words themselves without any understanding of the depths and convolutions of actual linguistics. He contemplated his options. He had no doubt about the power of this hideous contraption before him. With a shrug, the tall red-head stepped out of the elegant vehicle and shut the door tenderly behind him. If there was going to be a conflict, he did not want it to involve his car. It had been thoroughly customized, bringing the old 16-cylinder engine into the modern era while preserving its historic integrity. The result was a vehicle that could challenge the fastest on the road – just like in its record-setting production years – while remaining a true classic. Replacement was one shade shy of impossible.
“Ah. I see. Let’s think about this for a minute…Oh, I know…NO. Capital N. Capital O. Go ahead and analyze that present emphatic with your sorry excuse for a brain.”
He gave a smug smile, and circled away from his vehicle, giving himself space to work. Unslinging the rifle from where he had slipped it into the slot on the back of his jacket, he let it rest comfortably in his right hand.
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The sarcasm escaped Genesis’ grasp, for the most part. The purport of what David had said, however, did not. It was a refusal. A negative. He processed his options. Cooperation would have to be acquired by force. He selected a few words that seemed fitting for the situation.
“You leave me no other choice. Act now or pay the penalty.”
The man then did something that Genesis was not capable of properly processing. He triplicated himself. Instead of one Dr. David MacBeth, there were now three. Genesis was aware of such abilities in self-replicating machines, but had never heard of such a thing in humans. The idea seemed useful. This information must be gathered as well. Nevertheless, this was an act of aggression, by his analyzation. He moved forward slowly, working his way towards the Doctor. When he reached the nearest one, he grabbed it. With it in his grasp, he processed what the best course of action would be. He did not need three of this man. One would serve his purposes.
He smashed the Doctor into a steel pole. The pole hit the man’s stomach, but did not penetrate. Genesis pressed harder, but the pole merely crumpled under the man. He tightened his fist, but found that no matter how much force he applied, he could not flex it any tighter.
“Analyzing…no results found. Input invalid. Query item – HUMAN -- does not match subject qualities.”
With the inhumanity of his current victim established, Genesis turned his attention to the other two, tossing the one he held aside. As soon as he turned to face them, however, he felt a pair of bullets tear into his armor. They did insignificant damage, but his systems drastically increased their threat registry levels because the shots actually penetrated into his armor. These were obviously not ordinary bullets fired from an ordinary rifle.
“Analyzing…Winchester ’73 One-in-a-thousand rifle. Armor piercing bullets.”
Google told him that the caliber and power of this rifle was certainly strong enough to pose a problem when paired with armor piercing rounds like it was currently firing, but his own calculations concluded that it could not both penetrate his armor and reach his vital workings. As his attackers continued firing, peppering his armor with holes, he stepped forward and launched a set of punches and kicks. One of the men dodged deftly, but the other was smashed deep into the ground, only to claw its way back out and return to shooting. This one was also not human.
With the mystery eliminated, he locked onto his primary target, and moved forward.
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12:03 PM
David knew he could play his cards a bit on the risky side when it came to attacking this monstrosity. Though it clearly had immense mechanical power, speed was not its strong suit except in the actual act of making physical attacks. What worried, him, however, was the fact that it seemed to have registered the fact that his Reflections were different from himself. It occurred to him that he could not play mind games with something that did not have a mind in the first place.
He had already fired several shots into the metallic beast’s head, but to little avail. He did leave deep holes, but his bullets were not achieving the level of penetration he desired. He had noticed that some of the machinery inside the mecca suit was exposed, but had not yet had an opportunity for a good shot. As it was, he had used far more ammunition than he desired.
Casting a glance over his shoulder while the living computer trudged through a grove of white pines towards him, David’s mind spun trying to figure out what materials he had at his lake house that would be of any use against this kind of foe. He had plenty of supplies that could be used for biological combat, but most of his other chemicals were kept within the more secure walls of his Clinic. He longed to have his hands on some of the special explosive rounds he had been designing. Unfortunately, such was not to be.
Jumping to one side as a giant metal fist suddenly impacted into the tree he had been standing beside, he quickly back-pedaled. He did not have his ear pieces with him, an oversight that he did not welcome. Thus, communicating with his Reflection had to be done by old fashioned shouting, which he doubted could be heard over the raucous being raised by his attacker. They were still pumping their ammunition into its back, but he knew that at the rate they were firing they would quickly empty their reserves. He jogged backwards in the direction of his house, being careful to dodge raspberry thickets, fallen logs, and tangled underbrush. Every so often he would raise his rifle and land a shot in the area of a joint, but the long overcoat that hung ludicrously over the robot’s inhuman frame made it surprisingly difficult to accurately locate these weak points.
When he finally emerged into the clearing that marked the edge of his lawn, he paused momentarily. He needed a plan, but one that could be executed quickly. David knew that it was useless to try to hide within a normal building from something like he was fighting. He needed to stop it quickly and definitively. He scanned the perimeter of his property, and his eyes came to rest on the wooden shipping crates that sat beside the hanger that housed his airplane. A grin crept across his face.
“Well…that has one problem solved. Talk about timing a shipment right.”
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Genesis presumed that the man’s retreat was a good thing. When Dr. MacBeth finally abandoned fighting entirely and ran away, Genesis felt assured that he was going to be victorious. It would take some time for him to finally catch this man, but if worse came to worse he already knew the location of the Doctor’s clinic and could find him there.
He began pursuing David again while he fled, but drew to a stop when the man stopped at a set of boxes and began hacking them apart with a set of knives. He attempted to analyze the contents, but found that the gas station’s wireless was too far away for a connection. He scanned the house, but was displeased to find no computer signals whatsoever. One attempt at pirating the data signal for David’s phone told him that the security on that device was too high for him to hack with quickly.
Without internet, he was now left working off of his own internal memory. Fortunately, he did not see any need for complex strategy at this point. He simply needed to catch this man.
12:46 PM
By the time he drew close to The Doctor, he could see that the man was now rolling medium sized metal barrels out of what remained of the boxes and through a side door in what appeared to be some sort of Quonset hut. As the man hastily rolled the last one through the door, Genesis smashed through the wall right behind him. His gargantuan body hesitated for a moment, engines straining to rip through the steel beams that supported that area of the structure. They finally snapped, shacking the entire area.
Now he faced a new problem. Aside from the light that spilled in through the hole behind him, the entire building was dark, and far longer than he had thought. The cameras that served as his eyes dialed up their ISO settings while widening their apertures and reducing their focal length to the absolute minimum.
With the low light conditions properly solved, he scanned the space around him. It was void of anything whatsoever, beyond the chunks of debris from his own entry. At the far opposite end of the structure sat some sort of outdated airplane. David was doing something underneath of the wings. He began moving towards it, having determined it to be the most likely hiding place. Being a couple hundred feet away, his progress was slow. Before he reached it, he saw the Doctor emerge from under the canvas, rolling the four metal canisters in from of him. They appeared different now. Some canvas was now stuffed into holes that had been punched in the lids of each one.
Genesis shifted his motion to intercept the man, who was moving towards him but along the opposite wall of the building. When he was still fifty feet away, the man withdrew a small industrial torch from his jacket and touched it to the canvas on each canister. He rolled the first one towards Genesis, who had continued to move closer.
“Here’s a little demonstration of that chemical knowledge you wanted.”
Genesis watched the motion of the canister, attempting to analyze it. It was not any larger that a big hat box, so it did not seem to pose much of a threat. He noticed something was dribbling out around the canvas on every rotation, but without internet could not make a match to what contraption this might be. After a quick calculation, he determined that it would most likely be best to destroy it the moment it reached him. It had slowed as it came within his reach, so he merely lifted his foot, and then smashed it down on top of the canister.
The resulting explosion flung his leg upwards, tossing his body backwards slightly and heavily to the ground. Patches of intense flame covered his own body, the concrete floor, and the walls around him. The explosion had punched another hole in the corrugated steel skin of the building. Genesis quickly analyzed the damage to his own body. The several of the pistons within the foot he had used to smash it had been ruptured, and were now operating at a fraction of their full pressure. Several chunks of concrete had been implanted into his other leg and torso, but there was no other damage. No sooner had he pushed himself to his feet, however, then he saw the three other canisters approaching, and heard three rifle shots echo in close succession through the space.
The force of the three-part explosion lifted his huge mass off the ground momentarily, and then smashed him into the wall of the building. The heat of the flames that were burning on his body and coat were softening his armor and threatening his gearings. His computer systems were registering scores of errors and problems. Compressed air and hydraulic fluid spewed into the air, fanning the flames and providing more fuel.
He had learned that the Doctor could make some sort of explosive, although he knew that all four had been used. While he attempted to reset as many of his systems as possible, Genesis did his best to formulate a plan for catching the man he wanted.
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David was pleased with the success of his Molotov Cocktails. He had finally found a source for WWII era ammunition in bulk several weeks ago, and had ordered several canisters for his own carefully maintained warbird. After emptying and loading the contents of the munitions containers, he had simply replaced their lids, stabbed a hole in them with his knife, drained fuel into them, and stuffed a strip of the packing canvas from the ammunition into the holes. Their size and the high-quality of airplane fuel had served to make them far more powerful than any of the Cocktails he had made during his war years.
His Reflections were no longer needed now, so he made them vanish and strode casually towards his fallen foe. There was no motion except from geysers of flaming hydraulic fluid. Skirting around the flames and crumpled steel struts around the explosion sight, he leveled the tip of his rifle at the exposed “neck” of his enemy.
With astounding speed, a massive fist suddenly wrapped around his waist and thighs. He pulled the trigger, but the shot went high and merely drove a hole in the floor of his hangar. The robot slowly rose to its feet, somewhat unstably it seemed to David. It lifted him to eye level, the light from the noontime sun streaming through the torn wall and reflecting dully off of his soot stained skin. Flames licked at David’s clothes. His suit was fireproofed chemicall
