The Orphaned Worlds (76 page)

I’ll do what has to be done
.

There were another seven mechs at the sentry tower, three trying to break open the ground-floor entrance, three firing rounds in through upper-floor weapon slots, while another was going after Varstrand who had fled up onto the Har’s gasbags. In the gloom, sparks flew from the clash of metal claws on stone. In the Zyradin’s enhanced vision, Greg saw them all clearly.

Then they saw him. Torso- and shoulder-mounted weapons opened fire. Trusting to the Zyradin, Greg had his hands raised and outstretched as a storm of energy bolts, explosive slugs and minirockets converged on him … and time seemed to slow as the missiles entered the blue radiant nimbus of the Zyradin.

THE ENERGY FROM THE BEAM WEAPONS CAN BE ABSORBED AND REUSED
THE SOLID-MATTER MISSILES CAN BE OVERLAID WITH A TRANSIENT FIELD MATCHING THEIR SHIELD PATTERNS THEN RETURNED TO THEIR POINTS OF ORIGIN
OBSERVE

In an eyeblink, explosions flared on the three mechs’ upper torsos. The chest and right arm of one burst into flame while the left arm and claw swept up and tore its own head off before swivelling to attack one of its companions. As the second one fended off the flailing blows, the third launched another wave of ordnance as it leaped forward.

It was barely able to take two strides before its own reflected volley punched through its armour and wrought destructive havoc within the chest cavity. As it keeled over, the headless droid was being hammered and bludgeoned to the ground when something inside gave way. A dazzling explosion engulfed the decapitated mech and the machine attacking it, a white-hot eruption that left several twisted, blackened lumps of metal scattered across the concrete.

That got the attention of the other four, who, recognising a genuine threat, lost interest in those trapped in the tower and descended to the ground. The droid hunting Varstrand likewise dropped onto the tower roof and quickly reached ground level. Greg began backing away in the direction of the promontory’s southern edge, drawing them away from the tower.

‘Guys, time you were leaving,’ he said into the two-way. ‘How are ye doing up there, anyway?’

‘Bessonov’s dead,’ came Alexei’s voice.

‘Dammit,’ he muttered. ‘Right, don’t hang about, move yer-selves!’

‘Yes, yes, it is what we are doing! Why aren’t you with us?’

‘Because I have a special friend,’ Greg said. ‘And someone has to keep their attention while you get yer arses in gear … Vashutkin, get aboard with them …’

‘Ah, so you’ve been elected president as well, eh? Sorry, my good and dear friend, but I think you may need a little help, here. How is it with you now?’

‘
Kharasho
,’ he lied. ‘I’m doing okay, maybe a wee bit
oostalli
.’

THIS IS FALSEHOOD
YOU ARE FEELING THE STRAIN OF MY ENERGY DRAIN
THE NEXT CLASH WILL REQUIRE A COUNTERATTACK THAT MAY RENDER YOU INSENSIBLE