Weapons

For a revolutionary, training is as important as eating, Razha said. Kurri went with his comrades, down to the far end of the farm, where the land drops off a bit into a steep hillside, then levels out for a hundred Length--the perfect spot for a shooting range. Metal targets stand at staggered ranges away from the firing line, a low wooden fence, where most of the Helbender Collective is gathered.

Kurri holds Annia’s crossbow, examining the odd two-pronged arrow and the coils of wires connected to it.

Annia signs excitedly while he handles the weapon. “And once the ends are embedded in a conductive medium, like human flesh, it completes the circuit, and as long as I hold the trigger down, the battery discharges into them in pulses. A few seconds of it will render the averaged sized sentinel unconscious. A few seconds longer and they die. Here, give me...”

He’s never seen such joy in someone’s eyes as in Annia Koronova’s when it talks about a weapon or a tool. Kurri hands its device back.

It puts the sling over its body and lets the weapon hang there while it signs at him. “Of course there’s no battery connected right now, why would there be, I am shooting at targets, all it would do is waste precious alchemical energy, and risk hurting my friends. If you could just shoot guns for practice and have them not hurt anyone wouldn’t you? Here, it works like this.”

It takes aim and shoots at a hay-stuffed archery target. The bolt flies straight, with long coils of wires trailing behind it.

“I’ve never seen such a weapon,” Kurri says. “Is it some experimental technology you stole?”

“I made it!” Annia signs. It turns a crank to retract the wires back into tight coils on the side of the crossbow while the same mechanism pulls back the string. It manually reloads the bolt. “It has a draw weight of 70 Mass, this could probably launch Zal at a nearby enemy if necessary!” It waves its hands about it quickly and its pale lavender eyes are wide with excitement.

“Real interesting device,” Maris says, coming up behind Kurri.

“One day you’ll learn, Maris, brute force is no match for finesse and ingenuity!” Annia signs.

“Sure, they have their place, but ultimately wars are won through superior firepower.” He shoulders his massive twin-barreled shotgun and takes aim at the nearest of the metal targets. He fires with a boom that echoes through the valley, and a cascade of tiny metal plinks resound from the target.

As the smoke clears, Annia signs, “Give me.”

Maris grips the bottom barrel and turns it around until it locks onto the top side. He hands it the weapon. The gun is almost as tall as it is, but it widens its stance and balances with the heavy barrels extended. It pulls back the hammer and fires at the next further away target, hitting it. But it loses its balance and stumbles backward.

“It’s an impressive weapon,” it signs. “But that one is the most interesting here.” It points at Razha, loading up the chamber of her black rifle Reverie with some kind of alchemical powder.

She steps up to the firing line next and pulls the lever shut to close her chamber. She raises the weapon and fires. A bright red ball of flame erupts from the barrel and strikes one of the more distant targets. The metal disc glows orange with heat as the fire strikes it, and it shatters apart with a loud metallic crack.

“Aw fuck, too hot!” Razha says.

“That ain’t a bad thing,” Maris says.

“It’s good for the enemy, but I don’t want to cause unnecessary stress on Reverie’s delicate arcane conduits.” She pulls the lever up and a light red smoke pours out from the top of the chamber. “Still, if I need to blow up something metal... Maybe I’ll carry one or two charges of this formula.”

She draws a pistol from her belt and raises it, but then lowers it and looks at Kurri. “Hey, doctor, you said you knew how to shoot, right?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ve done it before. I used to go mishing with my family,” Kurri says.

“I see.” She raises the pistol and fires, and the second closest target rings out with a metallic plink. She hands the weapon over to Kurri, and takes her powder flask and a bullet from her belt. “Show me.”

He pulls up the lever and the chamber flips up to face him. He pours powder in and loads the bullet, stuffing it in with his fingers, and closes the chamber again. He gets the target in his sights and pulls the trigger. The bullet strikes the edge of the target, and he coughs and waves his hands to clear the smoke from around his face.

Razha looks down at him contemplatively. “Your stance is terrible, you want to lean into it so you’ll absorb the recoil, and don’t keep your legs so straight, you’ll be off balance.”

He raises the empty weapon and attempts what she says.

“Yeah, just like that,” she says. “Here, we have no shortage of these. If you’ll practice with it, you can keep that one.”

“I can?” Kurri says.

“Sure. I’ve always wanted a medic who can fight a little. But promise me one thing.”

“What?”

She looks down into his eyes. “Don’t use it to hunt mish. Of all the colonizer nonsense, you just waste good powder and disrupt the whole damn ecosystem. If you can’t hit them with a spear, then...” She points to Annia. “Maybe try a crossbow.”

“Oh, um, agreed,” he says. “I don’t even like mish anyway...it was just something my family did.”

“Flatlanders...” Razha says, walking away from him.

Kurri stares at the pistol in his hands. It’s a breech loader with a short rifled barrel, and a wooden handle, altogether the length of his forearm. It’s a standard Kogakuan ‘Justice’ model, issued to Imperial sentinels--even bearing their eight-pointed insignia.

“Quite a burden you’ve been handed.” Kalen comes up next to him, a rifle in her hands.

“Kalen, I didn’t know you could shoot,” Kurri says.

“I’ve learned quite a few tricks over the years.” She raises her weapon and fires, hitting the target at the back of the range.

“Hey, you’re good!” he says. “I’m surprised you don’t go out with Razha and them on our missions.”

“Just because I am good at something doesn’t mean I like doing it,” Kalen says. “I will fight, and kill, to defend myself and my comrades. But given the choice, I’d much rather stay here and cook them a good meal.”

Kurri nods. “I’m a medic, but I guess it makes sense for me to be equipped to defend myself.” He looks back down at his gun.

“Think about that carefully, Kurri, before you carry that thing into the field with you. If you have it, you’re going to use it sooner or later.” She reloads her rifle. “I have had to kill people, in my life. I decided their lives are less important than my own. It is not a fair judgment to make, but I have to weigh their lives against all of the lives they would go on to take if I allowed them to take mine.” She raises her weapon and fires again, this time a miss. “You are a healer, Kurri, are you prepared to take a life?”

“Thank you Kalen,” he says. “I’ll have to think about that. I wonder why Razha would entrust it to me without asking if I’m really prepared for it.”

Kalen looks down to him with her amber eyes. “Razha has long forgotten innocence. For changelings like us, innocence is not an option, and eventually we all become Razha, and forget what it is like to be Kurri.”