:: chapter 1 :: Emission and Reception
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Two burst railgun shots sparkled near the truck, smoking up few craters on the ground.

Mud watched in horror. "They're firing at us!"

"Nuts. Let's dust out." Sergei muttered and held the controls hard, both hands on the touchscreens, powering up engines to full speed reverse. Six large wheels scratched and hissed leading the truck and it's two passengers back to a mountain pass, into false but comforting safety of rocks.

Mud watched the village in the distance, still firing it's long-range railguns, gravel road bristling and tattering, hot metal rods hitting the cliffs breaking rocks loose, six-wheeler avoiding the rolling stones last the firing stopped. Truck situated itself near a turn on the narrow mountain road. Sergei's forehead was sweaty, his hands trembled.

Mud half-whispered. "This was close. One shot and -"

"Front defs could shake it off."

"Yet still... Okay, is there another road?"

"We'd have to go back twenty miles to a detour, then through a tunnel." Sergei called a map. "It's an entrance to TransEurope U-93."

Scratching his right ear, still feeling intense after barely avoiding the paranoid villagers' heavy weapons, Mud concentrated on the screen showing a satellite map with overlaid roads, rails and tunnels. Nearby transcontinental tunnel entrance was blinking red as Sergei marked it. Mud spotted his rat face silhouette reflecting on the glossy console, superimposing the maps, watching his own expression trying to look less scared than he really was.

"But I hate tunneling. Recall the last time?"

Sergei watched mountain pass through the windscreen. Sun already set, twilight fading out, bleak sky inking down from light to dark gray. He remembered the TransEurope, like it was yesterday - a decomposing underground highway infested with zombified mutants, driving the truck backwards ten miles, front guns to suppressive fire, overheating, rotting flesh and rusty metal hit and lit by chemical bullets' stroboscope flash - a long shivering retreat to daylight. He shook his head in deep discomfort and scowled at Mud.

"Never more through the tunnels."

Admitting the fear, Sergei felt relieved. He went on scrolling the touchscreen, zooming out the map and testing what options they had left.

Mud called a service display. "May I remind you, REV-battery is good for next hundred miles or seven days, whatever comes first. I couldn't fix it better, ya'know, after yesterday."

"Yeah, I know. Look, there's an unmarked pass just north." Sergei pressed and dragged his finger over the console screen. "I plotted it's course. We could follow it through the mountains and avoid the village."

"Hm." Mud gnashed his teeth, concluding they're running out of options. "Too dangerous. Wheels are for nothin' on the ice and snow, and going on aux-feet would waste us two days."

"Maybe the snow melted by now. Sat-map is years old."

"Aux-feet can't do faster than ten miles an hour, plain terrain. Two to three days anyway, Serg." Mud tested if he would return him a look.

He didn't. Sergei scrolled the map a little more, then gave up, closing the app on screen. "Through the village, then. I see no other way of crossing Rtanj mountains." He smiled and gazed at outside, crossing hands. "Yet we must reach Zaiechar in 50 hours."

Silent scenery offered neither hope nor comfort.

"How to pass the village, Serg? Raise the white flag and do a drive-through?" Mud shuffled in the seat, feeling gentle breeze of hot air onto bare paws, happy for taking time to repair the air conditioning fan.

"Nothing can shake off a direct railgun hit at a ten feet distance. Ablative armor can absorb two or three hits, then it's gone. Whatd'ya think, Mud, how much a human railgun sniper is accurate at a moving target?"

Mud jumped his looks around the dashboard avoiding raccoon's gaze. Sergei knew just how much Mud was ashamed of dropping the Landforce military training. Rat felt it like a stinger.

Sergei replied before Mud played a guess. "Lemme tell ya. We'd be meat loaves before even reaching the village. Sniper guards wouldn't start firing at once, they always need few seconds to check movement. I can bet my tail they have one or two automated sentry guns. Their gear's either damaged or unpowered, otherwise we'd be dead by now."

"Well then..." Mud sighted, looking above - the unforgiving sky lost it's generic feel, smeared with black patches of storm clouds. He punched his head and went on fiddling with touchscreen. "Oh, I forgot. There's an emission coming this way, in an hour. Must unfold the collector coils."

Sergei grinned, then placed hands on the controls. "Forgot it, eh? Alright let's drive back to the clearing, much better reception there."

Truck turned around and drove by the road, away from the turn leading to village. Sergei frowned his masked face and held muzzle stiff thinking what could be Mud's next mistake. Mud stayed still in his seat during ten minute drive, eyes set on the touchscreen, making a mental check-list of things to come.

After many minutes of pebble-gravel road scratching, truck came to a wide clearing. It was some 400 feet wide at one side, divided by a small river and a groove at one end, surrounded by steep rocky cliffs. Sergei clicked few commands on the dashboard, checking the short-range passive radar, no contacts. Motion detector revealed nothing within a mile; outside seemed safe.

"Okay, we're alone. Are you going out?"

Mud stood up and felt like fading out, legs trembling, tiny black butterflies filling his vision. He guessed some health problems could arise from a broken air recycler or lowered calorie intake; too many weeks they had only one meal per day, same bleak white porridge sucked from a food dispenser before going to sleep.

"Dizzy again?" Sergei watched Mud as he shook his head, rubbing his face and leaving to airlock for a clothes change.

"Um, something's wrong with me. I should check the dispenser, recalibrate the molecular mixer."

Sergei almost got up, turned his head to face Mud's blurry eyes. "Can you manage? I'll run you through a quick med-test -"

"Uh, oh. No need for that. Feeling better already." Mud was putting on the body armor. Sergei watched him closely, searching for signs requiring urgent medication, thinking how much this is his own fault. Mud not connecting the LS appendages - not letting the life support system monitor his health - was the worst thing he could do.

"When you're back, you are going to plug in every single appendage on this seat, willing or not."

Mud was mounting the armored suit, clicking the joints, folding his tail in a special compartment, testing the tactile feedback of clamps and seals - it was an old armored suit and any sign of gear failure could bring rad or bio contamination, or worse.

"I'll be fine, don't worry."

Sergei turned back to dashboard and sighted. Life support appendages, if provided, must be connected at least once a day. It was one of the most basic procedures yet he allowed Mud to evade it for a week. A week! That's sloppy discipline. Could the rat's health deteriorate just like that? He noticed nothing unusual with himself and he ate and drank from the same food dispenser as Mud did.

"Hey, Mud, stop it. I'll take care of the coils."

Just finishing with helmet, Mud didn't reply but gave an "OK" sign, raising his thumb and smiling behind the transparent visor screen, then he scrambled down a slide door leading to cargo space.

"Okay Mud, suit yourself."

Sergei checked the communication headset. Calling observation cameras on the console, now watching Mud as he walked the crowded cargo space, navigating through endless crates and packages, reaching a shiny metal case with a handle. He picked it up and went to secondary airlock, closing the sealed doors. Sergei watched him waiting for the second door to open, then the rat jumped outside.

Now on the external camera, he watched Mud walking to the truck's side, opening a dusty hatch. Inside there was a mile-long reel of thin superconducting cable. Mud took one end entwining it around his left arm then walked to a nearby cliff. Cable slowly unrolled as the gravel mashed under his boots. He stopped at the cliff, pulling few more feet of cable from the truck and forming a roll on the ground. From the metal case he took out a winded coil of black wire and a hand spray. Holding the coil in one hand he sprayed it throughly, and it became half-covered with transparent gel.

After that, he took the cable from ground and winded it around the black coil. Gel stiffened in few seconds, tightening around the winded cable. Now another spray from the case was flushed over the coil, this one was foamy and dark gray. At last, Mud fetched a large odd-looking gun, connected the foam-covered coil to gun's middle section and opened a small touchscreen near the gun's trigger, pointing barrel towards the stone cliff. As soon as the targeting computer gave him green light, Mud pulled the trigger.

The coil and cable were launched using magnetic force - low power railgun - hitting the cliff with just enough pressure to glue to the rocks. Mud was shaken by the gun's recoil but stayed on his paws.

Up in the truck's cabin Sergei watched Mud as he shuddered, cursing himself for not taking his place outside. Mud waited ten seconds then pulled the cable checking if coil was glued stiff enough to the rocky cliff - fortunately it was. Sky turned to almost absolute dark, rare patches of gray among the pitch black, and it began to rain - little drops cried out of heavy burden splattering his helmet visor.

Packing up the gun and two spray cans, he walked to the truck, now to it's other side. There was an identical dirty, smudgy hatch, with an identical cable reel inside. He took the cable's end, proceeding to the second cliff.

Coming to a narrow river he tested it's depth but it was shallow, coming just over his tights. Sergei tracked him, hoping the rat won't fade away from the heat shock. After ten long seconds Mud crossed the river, still dragging the cable entangled around his arm. He entered a small grove with few conifer trees struggling to survive, then few more steps and he was out of sight, trees obscuring the visual contact. No more cam-drones to launch, Sergei must rely on cameras mounted on truck's sides and back, which weren't revealing too much.

'Cable is moving, that's for sure.' Sergei watched the reel's controller data on the touchscreen, counting feet by feet of cable leaving the reel. Fan blew soft lightly humid air on his paws. If Mud were here with him, he would be content. It had been hard to even think about him. 'If we had the harpoon launcher intact, you wouldn't have to go out now. Damn it Mud, why haven't you repaired it yesterday?'

Endless minutes passed, on and on, reel counter was slowly ticking. Air recycler puffed closed-circuit air into the cabin, same air they breathed for a month. Recycle - that's the right word for our mutual life in this truck. What we breathe out is refreshed by a simple chemical process. What we excrement is sterilized, reprocessed, then served in food dispenser or seat's muzzle appendages. Should an enemy shoot a projectile at us, electrostatic deflectors would attenuate it's speed, letting the piezo dissipative armor recycle it's kinetic energy, recharging REV-bats or fredcells. We feed on renewable energy sources. Thunderstorms, solar panels, wind turbines, geothermals. Reuse every damn crumb of energy or matter or emotion. Recycle.

Reel counter stopped, then counted few more feet, then stopped again.

Sergei waited. Truck's small cabin smelled bad, he had to admit it. Dry-showers only removed the particles, and air filter replacement was out of schedule for too long. Of all the stenches that challenged his nose, reek of Mud's urine and sweat was most prominent. It circled the cabin air raising from seat LS appendages and little retractable beds with sheets replaced once a year. It was funny to feel scents in his absence. Sergei turned head backwards and inhaled a deep breath, feeling every little odor in the cabin passing through his wet snout. He felt like cheating, way too dishonest about his true intentions with Mud.

Short beep drew raccoon's attention to touchscreens. One camera raised a motion alarm drawing a rectangle around Mud's silhouette coming from the groove. Sergei zoomed in. Lower part of rat's body armor was wet and he moved slow, trying not to falter over the cable lying on ground. Sergei watched his every step, how he's careful in handling the metal case. At last he pulled himself by the truck, to the rusty airlock doors, and climbed in, lost to external cameras.

Thirty seconds later Mud entered the cabin and started taking off the armor.

Sergei smelled a myriad of odors brought into the cabin, then turned backwards facing Mud. "Glued the coils alright?"

"Yeah. All set up." Taking off the helmet Mud shook his head up and down, passing hands through dirt-colored fur.

"Right. You owe me something, remember. Sit down here and connect yourself."

Mud finished with the armor, now wearing regular clothes - white cotton pants stained and smudged with too much repair work on the truck and light gray shirt with printed ID inscriptions. He felt the dress comfortable, not changing it since they hit the road, obediently accepting the smuttiness.

"Okay, I'm here. Full or just the muzzle?"

Sergei looked him under the eye. "Don't play jokes on me, rat. Full LS connections, no excuses."

"Oh well, then."

A gaze over the LS seat apparatus made his fur shiver. Mud suffered from slight case of phobia towards life support connections. He hated being probed, tube-fed and bowel content vacuum-sucked.

"Oh come on, Mud, I must find out what's wrong with you." Sergei watched him without a blink, then stared at the seat, then at Mud again, taking his hand and pulling the sleeve down. "Mud! Don't be a shy jerk. The world doesn't care about your comfort. I need you alive." Raccoon hesitated, then turned his head to the right. "I won't look if it makes you any better."

After some time Sergei heard his companion fitting the appendages and sitting down in the seat. He turned his head again, watching Mud finishing his full LS, first in a week.

Bitting the nipple hose Mud tried to smile but his smile felt sour. Really sour.

"Alright, just lean back and relax. Running full med diagnostics." After typing few commands on the touchscreen he glanced at Mud, sitting stiff, waiting for torture. "We'll begin with blood probing in a second, hold still."

Two needles injected into Mud's neck, he shuddered for a second then relaxed. Mild electroshock forced his bladder to release an urine sample. Rectal appendage also took it's sample. The apparatus went on with it's clicky gurgle.

Sergei checked the screens. "Alright, let's see. Pressure below norm, slight increase in toxins levels, and this... Okay, no contamination. Software says I should administer these five drugs. Does the names mean anything to you?"

Mud watched the list on screen, nodding.

"So, you've had it before - right. Let's commence the treatment." Sergei clicked the 'apply' button and then they were silent for an uneasy minute.

Mud swallowed the liquid medication in few short gulps, waiting for LS apparatus to confirm it reaching his maw. As the last of needles retracted he placed hands on arm rests and relaxed his paws on the hot air blow.

"Don't let me worry like that, rat. Tell me if you're feeling anything. We have enough problems happening outside already -"

The same moment a beeping alarm went off in the cabin. Sergei quited the alarm and disconnected all cabin power, preparing truck's REV-battery for energy reception. As he finished typing and clicking the proper commands, he told Mud to sit tight, hoping the collector coils won't fail. Cabin was in complete darkness save for the instrumentation and touchscreens' dim light.

Sky had a pitch black mask when first lightning strikes went off. Striking random at first, then guided by high-frequency radio transmitter on truck's top, the lightnings became orderly and precise, hitting the collector coils and superconductor cables in regular intervals. A histogram on Sergei's touchscreen showed peaks of gathered lightning energy safely stored in a relativistic flywheel battery. Terrifying thunder shockwaves rumbled the truck, two furs' lowered their ears but sound isolation was good enough to save their hearing from the decibel abuse.

Sergei watched Mud's face illuminated by the thunder stroboscope like an unending flickering glowing light. Rat was smart enough to close his eyes, but Sergei stood the lightning flashes bringing hot needles of pain to his retina, he stood the pain and watched Mud's face hard chewing the muzzle appendage, his peace of mind so fragile against unending horrors that awaited in the outside world. Sergei's gaze drifted down the Mud's belly, simple dirty clothes, hands and claws gripping the arm rests, down the hips then into tight loins a nexus of untouched pleasure clamped and chained by pipes and hoses who didn't belong there. Dear, dear Mud. If I could only touch you. Don't look.

His loins white-embossed into Sergei's eyes, still there even after the thunders stopped firing, an imposing shape over normal eyesight, following his gaze wherever he looked. He turned on the cabin lights and checked the REV-bat status. His tongue was dry, first words came out leaping and hissing.

"It's good - the REV's over 30% charge."

Mud also cleared his throat. "That could give us another month of traveling."

"If you exclude combat." Sergei took off. "Now, you stay here, I'm out to pick up the coils."

"Okay, I'll be here."

"Keep an eye on the movement scanner."

"Okie Serg."

Mud concentrated on the screen, browsing random information displays for some time, then disconnected himself from the seat. Relieved of the apparatus' burden he closed the zips on his pants and walked close to a wall cabinet, packed with various electrical instruments and cables.

Sergei was dressing the body armor in upper airlock. "What're you up to?"

Mud's hindered voice replied behind the metal wall. "I'm checking the circuit breaker cabinet, if our overrides are still good to go."

"Keep clean and don't try to fix anything on your own." Sergei put on his helmet and closed the airlock doors. Thirty seconds of linger in a very tight airlock - barely enough for his armor to fit in - well, nothing to argue about. Outer doors finally opened and Sergei walked outside to a catwalk path then climbed down the ladder, to ground. Rain was falling hard, cleansing the dirt and sludge from truck sides and wheels.

Helmet's night vision helped him to navigate towards the first coil, he pulled the cable and it popped down from the rocky cliff. Entangling the cable around his arm he sent 'retract' command by inductive communication bus. Reel inside the truck started pulling in the cable, Sergei left it crawling on ground towards it's home and followed the return path. At the truck he closed hatch doors, protecting cable reel from elements and enemy fire.

Now the other coil. He walked around the truck and followed the cable reaching river shore. Pulling didn't help, he had to cross the river and come closer to the glued coil. He jumped into the water, feeling chills even through the body armor, not bothering to turn on the heaters. Water got to his tights but no higher. Carefully navigating through the riverbed, watching his every step on the pebble and sandy bottom, he reached the other shore. Breathing vapor condensated on his visor and he waited few seconds for air recycler to clear it out. In the distance a cable took few turns and was lost into the groove. He followed it by the ground, recognizing Mud's paw-steps. Just few more feet to go. Crossing the groove, it's tucked with plastic garbage lying on ground and in the bushes.

At last, glued to a stone cliff the cable's end had been revealed. Rocks were black and hot-red of lightning strikes. Sergei tried pulling the cable but it was stuck, universal glue had not dissipated even after high temperatures. Suddenly a warning signal went off in his suit, infrared broadcast from the truck. He grabbed the superconducting cable forming a closed-circuit between truck's computer and his helmet radio.

"Mud, you raised an alarm. What's up?"

Comm cracked and chuffed. "...Three UN bombers closing in fast. Please come back-"

"Raise defs, flak guns to full auto. Hold on, I'm coming."

Sergei took a knife from suit's belt bag and started cutting the cable, no time for dismantling the coil. After fifty cuts cable was free and it went on rolling back to it's reel. Now, back to the truck. Once again he entered the river and slowly walked to other side.

A deafening howl of scram-jet engines ripped the pitch black sky while he was walking through mid-stream. Two smart missiles launched, one hitting the ground just in front of truck shaking it but safely deflected, another exploded in air shredded by truck's flak cannon. Sergei watched the bombers fly over, making a turn before firing again. Almost there, hitting the shoreline, out of water. Now running on the muddy ground, water dribbled down his armor, bombers flew over the second time - missiles launched - Sergei jumped on the ground and covered his head, first rocket missed, detonating in the river, second blew up few feet above the truck. As soon the bombers flew away for another turn the raccoon jumped and started running toward the truck airlock. Bruised doors opened too slow, he heard shrapnel hitting the armor plates, jumping in, closing the doors just in time to evade another explosion. Saved in a blink of a second.

He put off the helmet, panting, heart beating hard. Now into the cargo space he pushed through endless rows of crates up to a short ladder and into the cabin, home at last.

Mud was already seated, eyes open wide in disbelief. "Serg you hit your head?"

"No- why?"

"There's blood coming down your forehead."

"Oh. Must've hit a crate in the cargo bay." He swept a hand over headfur, then observed his palm - moult hairs, dandruff, and something red.

"Come sit down, are we leaving?"

Tapping a button on body armor's belt clip, the suit released all it's joints in a second, dropping to cabin floor with a loud noise. He would order Mud to tidy it later. Leaping into the seat and wiping hand on his pants, he called the tactical overview. Three bombers were trying to blow their truck - three red dots with UN ident marks, circling on the short-range scan.

Sergei called an engineering display. "Good thing we recharged the REV. Deflectors are barely avoiding the missiles." Every diverted missile drained battery a half-percent.

"But we can't stand long. Where to hide?"

"The caves. TransEurope U-93, remember. Just few miles away."

"Hm... And the village?" Mud fiddled with the touchscreen.

"I'll go to the caves first, then try my luck with humans."

Sergei started up truck's electrical engines and drove it down the gravel road at full speed. It reached 50 miles per hour, shaking violently over every cavity and ground fault, followed by missile explosions.

"Um.. Serg. Now there's only 48 hours to reach Zaiechar."

An explosion detonated near the cliff, starting a rock slide. Truck passed it by the very last moment. The slide roared behind them, closing the road for transit, raising clouds of dust.

"Two days. Yes, I know." Sergei payed a quick look on the map. "But I'd still go into the caves and wait for bombers to give up."

"Then?" Mud glanced the night ahead. Serg drove by passive infrared front camera projected on the dashboard display.

"Then I'd go through the village and try my best."

"Well let's go straight to the village."

An explosion shook the truck and it weaved left and right hitting and scratching against the rocky cliffs until Sergei stabilized it's course. Bombers were still invisible except the shivering sound of their scram-jets.

"Yo Mud, ya know what, call me crazy, but - I'll check out the village first."

Mud shut his muzzle, fearing Sergei made a possibly wrong decision. After endless minutes of bumpy ride and few almost-direct-shots, the truck reached a narrow road opening to a small plain, a valley obscured by mists. In it's center - a small village, apparently sleeping - all houses in blackout. Sergei zoomed the camera image and identified two automated sentry towers. Energy signature revealed they're online.

"Well, look at that. I was right. Let's see how well can they manage those towers."

Mud watched, jaw chattering, as the turret domes started moving and tracking their truck. First railgun shot had been dissipated by inner layer of armor, pushing them hard to one side, but Sergei brought the truck back to it's original course.

"Serg they're firing again!"

"All right, let them come!"

Another direct shot. Mud called the engineering display, checking armor damage. Few plates got off-line, burned out. He frowned thinking there shall be dirt crawling again - below the truck - refitting and reconnecting armor plates to power leads. Hard job to do in a constrained body armor. Truck got hit again, this time the missile's explosion was too close, dropping vehicle to it's side. Just before hitting the ground Sergei managed to bring it back on all six wheels, using side aux-feet for support. Less than half a mile to the village.

One more turn and bombers started a slow descent engaging their Gatling gauss-guns, firing hundreds of rounds per second. Rear deflectors did the trick diverting majority of projectile fire yet one or two hits per second could be heard stabbing the rear ablative armor plates.

"Yeehaaw!" Sergei drifted the truck at random. Wheels squeaked and protested for the abuse, rain shower fell down in waves onto sharp gravel, muttering an unknown language. Reaching the first house in few seconds, sentry guns still tracking, Mud clinging to his seat waiting for a final blow.

"Serg, we need to come to Zaiechar in - one piece, remember - cargo intact."

Two direct railgun hits. Beeping alarms went off, touchscreens showing hull breaches and front axle breakdown. Truck decelerated.

Raccoon shook his head in a silent prayer. "Damn it Mud. Maybe - I'm crazy, but - just maybe -" Truck rushed in the village, stopping in front of two sentry guns raising a cloud of gravel and dust soon contained by the endless rainfall.

"Hey! Move out, they'll wipe us out like a -"

"Hush, Mud. They'll understand. We're of the same flesh as they are."

Through the windshield Mud gazed at large bestial barrels of sentry railguns. They remained silent. He let out a squeaky howl praying they don't open fire. Sergei carelessly wiped the blood from his forehead and rubbed his hand on the uniform pants.

At last, the turrets turned around and started tracking the bomber jets.

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