Re-Coil - J.T. Nicholas Page 0,91
its boots because it pushed off the deck, both legs launching itself with arms outstretched before it. Both my feet were still firmly locked in place and I used that connection to pull myself down even faster than I’d stood, yanking my body out of the way with enough force that my bruised ass bounced off the deck a second time. The outstretched fingers brushed the head of my helmet, but not even an AI-controlled, nanite-infused coil could ignore the laws of Newton. The coil was in motion and it stayed that way, hurtling past me and toward the aft of the vessel. Maybe it would find a handhold somewhere; maybe the ship’s maneuvers would crush it like a bug. And maybe the poor bastard would miss both of those possibilities and continue on to drift through the endless deep. Normally that was a limited proposition—coils were limited by their air supply. I had no idea how long whatever intelligence was housed in the nanite network could function under those conditions.
Nor did I care. I was back on my feet and doing my own zombie-like shuffle aft as soon as the fingers cleared me. Demagnetize. Step. Re-engage. Repeat. The same process that brought me here, only in reverse. I kept up a steady barrage of fire as I went, not even consciously aiming anymore, just tracking the barrel toward the aim point that Sarah dropped into my vision. My field of fire was crowded with obstacles, the upright bodies of the fallen serving as cover for the enemy still making their way forward. At a mental command, Sarah popped up a counter into my HUD displaying how many meters of the VaccTech’s integrated tether remained to me. Twelve meters. I double-tapped a coil, one in the upper chest, one through the face. It danced a macabre dance, body spasming as its feet remained glued to the deck. Ten meters. Another got close enough to launch itself into a lunge and there was no ducking this one. I punched the submachine gun forward, jabbing the barrel straight between the reaching arms of the bio-missile that was the cyber-zombie. I felt the hands latch onto my shoulders as the barrel contacted the top of the suited helmet. I squeezed the trigger, taking the contact shot.
The hands immediately went slack, but the impact knocked me from my feet. I felt another screaming protest from my knees and ankles as the magnetic boots fought the mass of the now-corpse. Both boots tore momentarily free and I skidded along the deck for a few meters until I could once again get the soles into surface contact. The dead coil bounced away into the deep.
Five meters.
I was almost at the literal end of my rope. The hit from the coil had bought me some space, our tangled flight moving us more quickly than I’d managed in the careful cadence of EVA. I was aware on a distant level of Shay’s panicked shouts over the comm, but I couldn’t take the time to reassure her that I was all right. I felt a surge of pain through my legs and back as I used the butt of the submachine gun to lever myself back to my feet. Well, maybe not all right, but still functional, anyway.
I took time to do a quick survey of the field, unconsciously doing another reload as I scanned the enemy. Still a half-dozen of them, maybe more and closing fast. I felt a twist of despair somewhere deep in my guts. I was battered, bruised, and I could hear the harsh panting of my breath. I had no idea how many magazines I’d burned or what loadout I had left, and I doubted it was going to matter. It was going to be down to hand to hand any minute, and tether or not, I was screwed.
As I was raising my weapon, readying myself for a last stand, a tight ball of death burst into the midst of the ambulatory coils. It fell in from the void, a patch of darkness to rival space itself were it not for the points of blue and orange thrust spurting from its ankles, wrists, and waist. At the last possible moment before impact, the ball uncoiled into the form of Korben. He hit the deck lightly, gracefully where I had bounced, showing a control of his body and gear that even after lifetimes of doing salvage work, I couldn’t possibly compete with.
His hands flashed silver