Mobile Armored Personnel: A Play

Act I

Scene 1

A young woman`s voiceover describes a man reclining by a swimming pool wearing swimming trunks. He`s typically Hollywood man and the role could fit any reasonably athletic good-looking actor.

`It was an interesting profession for a lazy man. The Empire paid him a retainer to keep his services permanently on standby, and he spent 99% of the year sporting in various swimming pools (and cavorting in various beds in various different positions) with the various beautiful women he met beside them.

He was  presently enjoying a brief sojourn on a holiday world famous for its complete lack of interest in anything other than pleasure, which he wholeheartedly approved of. Lying next to him was one of the most heavenly bodies in known space but, as he reached out to again taste the fruits of his last night's labours, a sharp pain behind his forehead (and slightly to the left of centre) focused his attention elsewhere.`

MAP:  'MAP online. Code 9. Level 16. What the fuck do you want Isobel?'

Isobel:  'How did you know it was me sweetie?' Izzie`s voice is in his head.

MAP:  'Who else would stab a man above his left eye just to get him to notice  her? You know that stickpin inside my frontal lobe is for emergencies only. Like if'n I need to make my body do something it thinks I can't - or that I 'simply' don't want to.`

Isobel: 'Or if you need to use the psi power of the 'third-eye'?'

 MAP: 'Quiet Izzie. You know that stuff's toppest secret. Anyway, I don't need it now. I can predict what will happen without it,' his tone suddenly hardened, 'unless you hurry up and tell me why you ... um ... called.'

Isobel: 'Okay MAP. Here's the situation. There's a renegade Space Marine staying in an apartment block not far from you. Looks human but the genes are dirty. Savvy?'

MAP: 'Sure. Subverted.'

Isobel: 'Yeah, and programed - genetically speaking - to kill you.'

MAP: 'A gene command that specific? That's some programmer. Any time scale on this?'

Isobel: 'Nope. Seems close - and you're the target. That's all we know. Oh, and one other thing -'

 A sudden burst of static cuts short whatever Izzie had wanted to say. MAP breathes gratefully as the pain in his head goes away. It look to the viewer as if he feels like someone switched it off - as indeed they had. Suddenly a high-pitched whine sounds close by his ear.

MAP: 'Damned mosquito,' he enunciates irritably.

Just about to slap the air with his hand, MAP freezes. Sweat trickles from his brow as, careful not to move his head, he turns his eyes to look at the source of the noise. An insect.

MAP: `A kind of fly,` he observes. `Not a mosquito. Probably harmless. Better check first tho'.

 He flexes his thumb joint and puts his hand to his temple as the viewer percies that he`s again feeling that stabbing pain inside his head. The audience shares his vision of the tiny creature hurtling towards him with `kamikaze` intent.

MAP: 'Shitsucking flymole.`

Isobel: `I sent you a vision to remind you of what those things can do. I`ve seen guys' skulls drilled from stem to stern in three seconds by one of those evil little mechanisms. They`re as fast as the usual projectiles in terms of speed of impact, but it takes a few moments for them to completely scramble an individual's brains before tunnelling out and returning home. God Himself knows micro-organisms are difficult to make, and the technoids have mastered the art of getting them to breed.`

 MAP stares hard at the pseudo-creature for an instant and the timy gizmo explodes in a small shower of silica and plastic parts.

MAP:  'Lucky it wasn't booby-trapped.'

 We see a complicated picture of technological apparatus labeled `Japlanet` and which the screen reveals to be inside MAP`s head. We see the synapses of his thought processes working and the miniature laser installed in his head switches off. Scanning a distant mountainside, with the lens of his other eye, he examines the wing of a butterfly in magnified close detail 2,000 klicks distant and, by means of its connection with the technological apparatus inside his skull, seeing it through the mountain on a distant hill at the other side of the mountain.

MAP: `Thank God for this souped-up pineal gland of mine.  Everything seems normal - except for that!`

 MAP slews round, skewing rapidly to one side as, frantically churning the green chlorinated liquid, a black torpedo-shape became a blackmissile-shape and launches itself from the pool directly at the place where, nanoseconds earlier, MAP had lain resplendent with his latest sex toy.

`Toy!`

 The Japanese woman he`d lain beside mumbled something incoherent and turned away onto her other side. Unable to readjust to its target and - the thirst for blood wired into its circuitry - unwilling to abort, the Aquatooth sank its fangs into the belly of the blonde nubile and proceeded to revolve like a whisk beating up an egg. Flesh, blood, bone and, finally, brains (as the hideously artificial sea-monster made its way briskly up her spinal column) spattered the poolside terror-stricken sun worshippers.

MAP:  'A bad time for them. What with all three suns being in the sky right now.'

 We see MAP shutting down his EMOTIVE CENTRES with a furious act of will. We see him beginning to consider his options, carefully monitoring the dying progress of the Aquatooth. Lettering, on the body of the Aquatooth, defines it CHEWER and the audience is treated to a depiction of the different types of Aquatooth in at least 25% of the screen while MAP continues to consider his options. We see that, amongst the different varieties of Aquatooth, CHEWERS only have small power-packs; just enough to launch, bite, and spin a few revolutions.

Isobel: 'Kill him before he kills you.'

Act II

Scene 1

 MAP jumps to his feet and, finding that proves useful, keeps moving in the direction of the hotel heliport, which the screen describes using 25% to 50% of the visible surface. We see MAP`s location marked on the screen while a series of pictures of heliport life are depicted. We also see that what we are seeing is what MAP`s enhanced brain and optical system are looking at too as he assesses where he wants to be at the heliport when he arrives. The viewer becomes aware that MAP is seeing what is taking place at the heliport in `real time` and that he`s selecting an optimum route for what he has planned.

MAP: 'Are you still in there you crazy bitch?'

 Although Isobel`s voice is heard inside MAP`s head, he speaks to the air rather than using telepathy, though he can. When MAP is speaking telepathically, the speech is italicized. Isobel`s speech is the same.

Isobel: 'Of course! I've still got a small-but-useful piece of information for you - big boy.'

MAP: 'You remembered?'

Isobel: 'How could I forget?'

MAP: 'Well, the amount of stud muffins you get through in a month -'

Isobel: 'Okay,okay. Enough.'

Her girlish laughter trilled like silver  bells.

Isobel: 'The new data?'

MAP: 'Uh?'

Isobel: 'Your Space Marine could be female.`

MAP: 'Great. That's all I need. Another vicious woman.' [telepaths]

Isobel: 'How dare you sir!'

MAP: 'How do you know I`m referring to you my dove?' [aloud to the air]

Isobel: 'It couldn't be anybody else.'

MAP: 'Too true.'

Isobel: 'I hope you rot. Instant loneliness.'

There is an audible click inside MAP's right ear.

MAP: `Press on regardless,' he told himself, `first things first and other platitudes.'

Scene 2

MAP whistles for his hovercar, which comes gambolling across to him like a red-and-chrome spring lamb - and explodes. We see his technological apparatus being thought into action inside his brain at his pineal gland in the forebrain as his eyes go robot blue and his body goes into overdrive without thinking and seemingly spontaneously. Springing bacwards in order to minimize the risk of getting hit by pieces of a General Motors` aircar, his body immediately rolls itself into a ball and bounces to one side. Finding himself capable of volitional movement once more, MAP uncurls to observe his predicament.

MAP: `Oh, my best friend,` he chokes back tears, `She who only hated my enemies because of the 

intelligo chips I built her with.`

 The lump of flaming metal that used to be his best friend (thanks to an intelligent microchip, that is, one capable of hatred) had died instantaneously. MAP feels a pang of regret and the thing in his head kicks in. Leaping to its feet, his body sprints into the fiery maelstrom, vaulting the white-hot remains. Emerging from the pall of smoke, breathing hard but with his eyes, due to the `cleer-plaz` protective eye shields now visibly defending his vision, he`s keen and eager for prey. But there`s no sign. The spirit of MAP returns to control his flesh.

MAP: 'My enemy must be some babe,' he pants. 'I bet she [he?] packs more dynamite between the sheets than those legendary Ta'uk chicks - literally.'

Scene 3

 His reverie is broken by a now-familiar whine and, without conscious thought, he snaps into enhanced mode, flash burning the Flymole with a contraction of his laser-laden pupil. He feels the plasflesh of his fingertips rupture as the internal weapons' systems began activating automatically in response to some as-yet-unspecified threat. His eyes enter scanning mode. Movements ahead provoke a response from the hydraulics in his legs and he is propelled in the direction of –

MAP: `The target?`

Scene 4

 His optic centres shorting-out in prescient awareness of upcoming danger, star-bomblets burst above him in a cascade of designed-to-be-blinding light. Body still maintaining its headlong pursuit, tracking and navigating by means of the idetic memory chip that allowed his computer-mind to function much in the same way as its organic bat-sonar counterpart, which we see depicted on 25% to 50% of the screen explaining the connection between his adaptive technological apparatus and bat-sonar. As `normal` vision is restored, MAP`s built-in zoom tells him his adversary is now shouldering a portable yet-still-heavy-duty micro-missile-launching-bazooka with, as the 25-50% screen shows, city-block destroying nuclear capability. Hands involuntarily reaching out as if to strangle an invisible opponent, digits extend claw-like to tear the air as MAP selects the appropriate ammunition from an invisible weapons' console. Flexing his thumbs, his body emits from its finger-ends a staggered series of projectiles designed to rip and shred skin, bone, and muscle tissue wherever they might  be encountered.

 MAP: 'Seek and ye shall find!'

 MAP prays aloud and then, reaching out with his mind for Isobel softly, who we see briefly in a framed picture held by a shaking hand while we hear convulsive sobs.

'Seek and ye shall find.'

Scene 5

 A shriek of outrage registers upon his electronic sensing equipment as a 'possible' kill. His body begins to pick up speed. He hurtles nearer to the sound of anger and pain.

Scene 6

Subverter: 'Freeze maestro.'

 MAP's infra-red night-sight penetrated one of the gloomy access entryways that surrounded the parking area and zoomed in for a close-up. It was a hostage montage. A figure in the traditional powered-armor of the Space Marines (but with the distinguishing marks of the Order to which s/he had originally belonged carefully masked or erased) held another slenderer more obviously tenderer form which he recognized - and wished he hadn't!

MAP: 'Izzie!'

Subverter: 'Hold it sonny. One sharp move and girly-wirly gets it.'

 The figure menaces its pursuer with what MAP now sees is the only mutant attribute of an otherwise perfect human form, the huge foreclaw of a Subverter.

MAP: 'The venom can't have had time to take hold before the med-tecs got to her! All she means to the Swarm is another host by means of which their Spawn might be propogated throughout human space! Poor cow!'

 MAP slows to a halt and waits motionless.

 MAP: 'Izzie?'

Subverter: 'I've given her a paralysis drug. She'll stand there for days if necessary - unless the wind blows her over.'

 A high-pitched whine follows MAP`s statement and he readies his eyes to track and burn the Flymole he anticipates will appear - but no.

MAP: 'Christ! The bitch's excuse for laughter,' he marvels. 'What's the deal?' he says in a harsher voice.

Subverter: 'No deals for you Imperial Scumsucker! Switch on your suit immobilizer and I'll leave the lady here for whoever comes looking for you both - if anyone can be bothered.'

MAP:  'And if I do?'

Subverter: 'I blast you with a warper.'

MAP blanches as the 25-50% screen depiction of what lethal and agonizing warpers do. Basically, they'd been designed to bend a spaceship through space at faster-than-light speeds. Einstein's equations had suggested that space would be warped by ships passing quickly through it, but the reverse had turned out to be the case. It was the ships themselves that had to expand and contract like worms in order to use those gateways to the stars known to physicists as 'anomalies' in the space-time continuum, but which those who used them knew as 'wormholes'. However, warpers could also turn a man inside out in seconds. He'd seen men with hair for brains, who could only see the steady accumulation of dandruff on the insides of their heads...`

MAP: 'And if I don't?'

Subverter: 'I blast her with a warper.'

 We see MAP`s onboard computer brain begin to decipher the Subverter`s make-up in order to deactivate the creature. The 25% to 50% screen depiction explained how the Subverter was analyzed by MAP`s computer brain in order to discover the weak point at which the whole would be subverted. The ajna chakra in his forehead, blinked, sat up, and took over. An intense beam of light flashed from it, bathing hostage and captor in a nimbus of blue fire. Izzie seems to crumple and she folds slowly into `no-space`. MAP's antagonist finds herself bereft of armor and lovely to look upon in her coal-black skin. Well, most of her. The claw of the Subverter bends back and nips off her head. The corpse topples. MAP comes to.

MAP: 'Izzie, Izzie baby. Darling baby,' he sobbed.

Isobel: 'No use crying over spilt milk - or a collapsed hologram for that matter.'

MAP: 'Izzie?'

Isobel: 'None other.'

Speaking aloud once more.

MAP: 'You rotten little ... Why didn't you tell me it wasn't the real thing but that you were merely a holo shell of your former self?'

Isobel: 'Now, let me see ... How did that go? Baby. Darling baby'. Followed by real tears.'

MAP: 'You ...You ...'

Isobel: 'Well, I had to know how you really felt, didn't I big boy?'

MAP: 'And the Subverter? Was she real?'

Isobel: 'You'll never know.'

Izzie transmitted the final digit of the immobilizer code. MAP slumped inside his armor like a puppet with its strings cut.

Isobel: 'I suppose I'd better send a recovery team.'

Act III

Scene 1

 The brain in the saline tank that was Isobel had a nutritube jacked into its cerebral cortex. The 25-50% screen depicts how the remote aspect of Isobel is jacked into MAP`s frontal lobe.

Scene 2

 The audience sees how she`d been killed in a Subverter raid some time before.

Scene 3

We see MAP at Marine Central being activated to deal with a Subverter problem light years away.

Scene 4

 MAP is depicted as distraught. No one had known how to break the news. The vidz and vox that were sent of Izzie`s fate are replayed for the viewer.

Scene 5

 The cloning process is detailed as Izzie is regenerated from her cellular remains.

Scene 6

MAP is depicted looking at her picture in a frame.

MAP: `It will have to be enough to remind me of our love.`

Act IV

Scene 1

 Izzie`s brain is disturbed by a slight tumult invisibly in the air above the tank which contains her, and she seeks to think her external support and defensive gear into readiness.

Scene 2

 There`s a sound like the rush of water over sharp rocks and a Subverter claw emerges from the newly-engineered `anomaly' in the fabric of space-time...

THE END

MAP will resume in MAP II: Deus Ex Machina


Robin Bright 'Mobile Armored Personnel' in John Thiel (ed.) Surprising Stories # 41, Oort Cloud Publications, VacHume Press, May, 2016, http://surprisingstories.thiels.us/SSV41/Mobile.htm .