Compared to the feeling of those punches against my prosthetic interface, this was just a dull ache like winter on old bones.
“You survived the crash,” she said. “I’m impressed.”
I planted my feet on the floor and braced myself. I’d managed to lift 700 kilograms with my augments. A 60-kilo woman should be no problem regardless of the disadvantage in leverage. I drew a breath, twisted my shoulders, and curled my arm.
Katerina came off of the floor as my arm swung around. I’d tried to drive her head-first into the metal, but she anticipated and countered by releasing her grip. She was flung toward the door instead and landed on her shoulder. She gracefully rolled onto the balls of her feet, and I followed her eyes as she took notice of my sidearm, less than eight feet away.
I realized my error just as Katerina seized on it.
She moved for the gun and I reacted, pushing off into a sprint as hard and as fast as I could. I knew I couldn’t get to it before she would, but I thought that if I could bowl into her, I could buy a chance to get it away from her. Katerina was only flesh and blood after all; I could do with my augments what Andrea had done.
She was impossibly fast. I’d never seen anyone like her before or since. Katerina had my pistol in hand before my third step. I ducked my head and crossed my arms, tensing for the impact and entertaining the faint hope that the hit would knock her unconscious. I threw my weight forward, then nothing. The hit never came.
I felt myself pulled from side to side as the room spun around me in a blur of shapes and color. Lights streaked across my vision until the view suddenly locked into place. I was sailing through the air, further into holding, as I watched a receding snapshot of Katerina, the open door, and Dr. Markov.
I hit the floor hard on my back. I rode the momentum and slid onto my feet, ready to engage, but what I saw made me stop in my tracks. Katerina had Samara at gunpoint.
“It’s over, boy,” Katerina said quietly. “You did well.”
“This won’t end the way you think.”
“I know your kind, Tycho Barrett. I’m sure this will go exactly how I imagine.” I watched in horror as Katerina pressed the gun into the nape of Samara’s neck and fired. Samara went limp, and Katerina threw her toward me.
I rushed forward and caught her as Katerina disappeared into the corridor. Samara’s neck was scorched around the entry wound and bleeding freely. She was coughing frothing blood. I spotted the exit wound as I laid her on the floor on her side, blood soaking her clothes just beneath her ribcage. I ran through the checklist as I unclipped the first aid pack from my vest.
Stop the bleeding with pressure and dressing. Keep the victim still in the recovery position. Apply nanite lattice and administer clotting agent if possible.
I took a packet of lattice from the first aid kit and ripped it to size. I pressed it to her neck and wrapped gauze to keep it in place. I pulled my hands away to get the dermal injector to give her the clotting agent, but as soon as I did blood seeped out from beneath the dressing. I quickly pressed my hand against the wound.
It was awkward and difficult to treat. The gauze wasn’t applying enough pressure alone.
Think, Tycho.
I pulled away and reached into the kit again, this time for the scissors. I cut into Samara’s shirt down the length of her sleeve to make a pair of long cloth strips. I looped the cloth around her neck and under her arm and then tied the ends together across her chest. It seemed to hold, so I loaded the dermal injector with the clotting agent. I pressed the injector to her shoulder and pushed the button with my thumb, and the nanites were delivered with an audible hiss.
I took up the scissors again, this time cutting Samara’s shirt down her chest. I pulled the flaps of cloth away and searched for the exit wound. There was so much blood I couldn’t actually see it. I ran my fingers across her side and eventually found it. Her body tensed when I touched it, and she made a sound and spat bloody drool.
“You’re okay, Samara,” I lied. “You’ll be okay.”
The exit wound was small, barely the size of