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Book online Ā«Sword of Minerva (The Guild Wars Book 10) Mark Wandrey (e novels to read .TXT) šŸ“–Ā». Author Mark Wandrey



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wasnā€™t getting caught short of air again if he could help it. He also took his first breath with physical lungs in many minutes. It felt no different to him than ā€˜breathingā€™ stored air.

With the pressures equalized, he could pull the same release as the exterior one had. The door slid open on the same spring mechanism to reveal an unlit corridor. His multispectral vision made it as clear as a sunny day on a planet. Tiny bits of dust and other detritus slowly drifted around, likely disturbed by his working the lock mechanism.

Naturally, since it was in zero G, there were no handy footprints in the dust. He looked both ways and got some help. To the left, the corridor was crushed like a tin can. Rick was a little surprised the corridor had maintained atmospheric integrity. It must have taken a massive impact to do this to the armor and alloy structures. Either way, his choice was made for him. He headed to the right.

As he floated down the dark corridor, Rick pondered the process heā€™d discovered to administer drugs. It was like thinking about peeing, lifting a single eyebrow, or maybe flexing your little toe (which he didnā€™t have anymore). Only the medication system was a new muscle. Imagine waking up with an extra appendage. He let his mind wander, looking for more such phantom limbs. He found dozens.

These were all handled by the pinplants, he realized. When the ā€˜plants went offline, heā€™d disconnected them. Sato had said reversing the process wasnā€™t possible. He wondered if the scientist was being melodramatic? Many of the suitā€™s functions were now completely seamless. He could fly and maneuver in space without thinking about it. He could also unlock storage compartments by just reaching toward them.

ā€œOh, shit, the weapons,ā€ he said and brought himself to a stop. The weapons systems had all been controlled by pinplants. It wasnā€™t much different from a standard pinplant interface with a hand weapon, such as heā€™d trained on with the Hussars. Firing them before had been as simple as telling his pinplants the power setting, choosing a target, and firing. As simple as snapping your fingers, bang, youā€™re dead.

Time was passing, and he couldnā€™t waste any more thinking it over. He would have to work it on the fly. In an instant, he was flying back down the corridor without thinking it through much at all. The weapons must work similarly, he thought as he navigated a slightly crooked bend in the corridor and careened into something.

Stunned, he cut the jets and rebounded slightly. Heā€™d just had time to realize it wasnā€™t a wall but something floating like him before he was struck by, of all things, a flexible metallic tentacle!

The impact sent him back the way heā€™d come, bouncing off the wall and spinning wildly. He stabilized his flight and came around so he could better see what he was facing. He instantly knew what it was, because heā€™d looked them up in the GalNet back on Earth. It was a Peacekeeper bot.

ā€œSo much for you all being deactivated,ā€ he said.

The machine was shaped a little like an aspirin capsule, with a blue band around one end. He assumed that was a vision receptor. Four long, powerful-looking tentacles were extended from the capsule-shaped body, two on either side, ā€˜underā€™ the eye slit. A red line began to glow, and Rick instinctively dodged sideways. It was more like throwing himself into yet another wall. A high-intensity laser cut a swathe exactly where his midsection would have been, only touching his foot at the end of its transit.

Pain!

He yelled in shock as the laser scored across his right foot, making him reflexively yank it back, further exacerbating his erratic flightpath. Ironically, this caused yet another laser to miss him entirely.

His crazy trajectory landed him around the corner, and out of the Peacekeeperā€™s view. Rick used the momentary safety to look at his right foot. Right again?! That leg just doesnā€™t have any luck. It looked like a third of his foot had been cut away, starting at the outside, part way to the heel, and continuing up between his 2nd and 3rd toe. It was a clean cut, and nothing was leaking, but fucking shit, it hurt!

The buzz of air turbines like his own sounded as the Peacekeeper came around the corner after him. Rick raised his right arm. Nothing happened. The Peacekeeper cleared the corner, and its laser collimator glowed. He dodged again, this time better, and the laser missed him. He took careful note of the period of firing. Each pulse was less than a second, and it took five seconds in between to recharge. I can beat that, if I can just fucking figure out how!

One of the Peacekeeperā€™s tentacles lashed out and wrapped around Rickā€™s torso, pulling him toward the warbot, reeling him in like a freshly caught trout.

Rick held his right arm out, trying to will the blade to pop. Nothing. ā€œGod dammit!ā€ he yelled and snapped the arm to full extension, as if he were flicking out a folding knife. Ksnickt! The blade slid out and locked into place. He concentrated on the feeling heā€™d sensed in his mind even as he swung the blade down with all his might.

The 50-centimeter-long blade was made of hyper-tough carbon-carbon with a tungsten Inconel alloy spine for rigidity. Every time it extended, synthetic diamond composite sharpening stones gave it a little touchup, ensuring the edge would remain as sharp as it could be. With all the strength of his mechanical arm muscles, the blade threw sparks for meters as it slashed through the tentacle. The machine reeled from the blow, jerking on its turbines.

ā€œIā€™m sorry, did that hurt?ā€ Rick said aloud as he fired his own turbines and rushed the machine. ā€œEat this!ā€ He rammed the blade at the robotā€™s center. There was an explosion

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