Unity Carl Stubblefield (read book TXT) 📖

as energy beams flew past his head, some hitting him in the back, but his hybrid-Nth armor absorbed the shots. The odd sensation tingled as his adaptive armor crawled across his body, forming a thicker protective layer on his exposed back and head.

The beams still smarted when they managed to hit close enough together to be totally absorbed or deflected, but there was no real damage or loss of HP. Fortunately, Gus could follow Aurora, which made navigating out of the facility easier than expected amid the distractions of the beams flying all around him. He had to keep accelerating as she was not waiting for him. The psiycle whined as he twisted the accelerator to max, pulling away ever so slightly from the pursuing mob.

Cool air hit him as he blasted out of the loading bay and his lead began to be chewed away as he had to slow and navigate around the buildings as the sky-way twisted and turned around the larger structures. Aurora was nowhere to be found, and after a couple of turns he saw the majority of the sentinels were following him like predators on the savanna, focusing on weaker prey.

There was luckily not as much traffic this time of day, but he still had to do a fair amount of dodging, being unfamiliar with the sky-ways and layout of the city. This also served to slow him down and the distinct hum that the sentinels made raised the hair on the back of his neck as they came ever closer.

As they got within a couple meters, one of the sentinels had a burst of speed, as if to ram the psiycle. It stopped short, but in reaction, Gus’ psiycle lurched forward, ripping his hands off of the handlebars and he barely caught them again, losing another chunk of lead. Now he was surrounded by around a dozen sentinels of varying sizes.

Within the swarm, he was jostled side to side as the different attacks caused the anti-collision system of the psiycle to ricochet back and forth among the pests. His mouth ran dry as a particularly effective feint almost shook him loose off the psiycle, and he barely hung onto the handlebars like some trick motocross rider doing a Nac-Nac. Twisting with all his strength, he managed to pull himself back onto the seat, redirecting the bike as he got control again. Gus bounced and lifted off the seat unless he gripped the seat tightly with his thighs and buried his toes in a small recess by his feet.

Playing it safe is going to kill me!

“Nick! Can I turn off the anti-collision? It’s going to throw me soon,” Gus thought in a panic.

Before Nick could respond, the jostling stopped. Just in time too, Gus pushed down on the handles, dropping the psiycle and narrowly avoiding colliding with an off-ramp sign hovering in the sky-way. Three of the sentinels could not course-correct in time and slammed into the sign, being damaged enough that they dropped into the awaiting mists below.

Assessing that they could not cause him to be shaken loose, they adapted and began taking pot shots at his arms while one of the larger ones tried to obscure his vision and fly in front of him, blocking his line of sight. This sentinel had an uncanny ability to predict where he would try to move and maintained its dizzying motions, threatening to hit his face as it twisted and spun less than an inch from his face. The beams hitting his arms were partially blocked as they tried to ablate his suit and skin off of his forearms and the hybrid-Nth reconfigured to strengthen shielding in this area.

Despite the adjustment, he started taking damage, with attacks coming from too many directions to avoid. Just in time, too, as the remaining sentinels increased the intensity and quantity of beams playing across his body. Thinner layers of protected areas were created as the hybrid-Nth moved to compensate were insufficient to block the assault, and Gus was peppered with new needles of discomfort. Struggling to maintain his speed and bearing in the sky-way, Gus passed a large building and saw a new cluster of sentinels bearing down on him from the left. He tried to swing the psiycle in the opposite direction, braking and trying to drift but they were approaching too quickly.

Gus winced, preparing for the impact when he felt a wave of heat wash over him. The sensation quickly passed, and he cracked his eyes open to see Aurora dropping her psiycle down, having barely cleared jumping over him into the path of the oncoming fliers. The sentinels hit the angled base of her psiycle and ricocheted into the walls as their momentum was diverted by the ramp-like base.

She threw a look over her shoulder, winked, and sped off. A searing pain hit his forearm as he watched her go, and his eyes snapped back to his pursuers, firing neon orange beams at him with abandon. The scent of burned hair wafted into his nostrils as he punched the accelerator and took off down another alley.

“Aurora, thanks for the assist. Let’s do that again and whittle down their numbers.”

“Not likely they’d fall for it. They’re very adaptable and learn from their mistakes. I have an idea though. Go to these nav-points,” she advised and clicked off the comm after a brief yelp.

“Aurora! Are you okay?” he asked but received just static.

Just trust her, he thought as purple chevrons appeared ahead of him in the air directing him to the nav-point. With a definite direction to go, Gus found he began to gain ground again, getting more used to the psiycle’s physics and how to refine his movements to cut corners and turn at the last moment to cause some of his pursuers to zip past and have to reroute.

When he gained a certain lead, the orange beams thankfully stopped. Whether they lost enough power to be effective or the bots were programmed to avoid collateral damage