A thud sounded from behind him, and before he could lash out, he heard Shockwave bellow, “Guys! Hit the dirt!” Powerhouse didn’t know what Mark had in mind, but he dropped, praying he could steal a moment for his burning eyes to recuperate.
PCA
Spreading his arms outward, his palms open with fingers splayed, Shockwave turned in a slow circle, firing off a widespread kinetic wave at the lowest level he could manage. As he had hoped, a great deal of the loose dust wafted away, clearing the area around them. Shockwave tried to take a quick headcount, but before he got beyond Powerhouse, hunkered down and rubbing furiously at his swollen eyes, the big-ass triclops leaped right at him, its huge wrist-blades a second away from spearing straight through him.
Shit! Shockwave jerked both hands upward and his waves twisted the triclops’ blades skyward. The three-eyed freak yelled something at him, but Mark was already on his next attack, a flat-handed shoving motion that slapped his next shockwave where the sternum would be on a human. He had intended an in-your-face attack — the alien’s height was throwing him off — but it brought the bruiser’s charge to an abrupt halt.
Maybe I should get some lift, he thought, trim our height difference a bit.
Firing off a quick prayer to the gods of fine shockwave control, he sent part of his focus down to his bare feet.
In that moment, the triclops yelled at him again and drove its blades back into the ground.
Damn it! The last thing they needed was another dirt-tsunami.
The earth was already rising around the triclops’ blades, and Shockwave acted on instinct. He had just started sending waves through his soles, so he switched from giving himself lift to sending the shockwaves, not against the ground, but into the ground, conducting them through the soil itself.
And damned if it didn’t work! The growing mound of earth around the alien’s blades was smashed by Shockwave’s counterattack; instead of a tidal wave turned against its enemies, the ground bucked like an angry bull, cycloning upward right underneath the triclops. Most of it splayed to either side of its wrist-blades, but a good amount struck it in the torso and armored head. The triclops straightened to its full height, tottering and spewing dirt.
“Take that, asshole,” Shockwave said with great pleasure as he drew back a fist, the air around his knuckles already rippling — this one was going straight where the alien’s balls should be; if he was lucky, their anatomies would be similar enough to make it worthwhile.
It didn’t go as planned.
Shockwave was stepping forward to ram his primed fist home when the triclops’ ribcage rippled, and two new arms emerged underneath the existing pair. The fact that they lacked their own wrist-blades was all that saved Shockwave’s life as one arm knocked his fist aside, sending the kinetic wave harmlessly into the night sky, while the other struck him across the face. And while the new arms were far less meaty than the first two, the force with which that stony hand connected knocked him into the air, crashing back to earth several yards away.
Shockwave was unconscious before his feet left the ground. He literally never knew what hit him.
PCA
Powerhouse’s stinging eyes had recovered enough to witness Shockwave’s collapse. Growling the kind of swear words that would’ve made Mark proud, he moved in on the now-six-limbed triclops — the Noctoponm’s randomized powers were really starting to piss him off! The large alien whirled on him faster than he was ready for, and he only had time to throw up a forearm to block the oncoming wrist-blade. The blade connected with enough power for him to feel it and to knock his stride off kilter — the edge failed to penetrate his skin, much to the triclops’ obvious vexation, but it didn’t break the blade off as he had hoped, either. Ducking under the triclops’ next swing, Powerhouse stepped in and punched it in the hip, knocking it halfway around. He followed this with a good old fashioned kick to the ass, but as with Shockwave, the triclops’ great height ruined his aim — his foot met with the back of its thigh, but that was better than nothing. The alien went down on all fours (all sixes), and Powerhouse hustled forward to punt the bastard to the moon.
The oppressive weight fell over him again. He grumbled, “You son of a bitch ...” as he strained to keep his footing. Shuffling around like a man with a ponderous yoke across his shoulders, he faced the walrus with its flipper-hands still pressing downward toward him. “Yeah, keep it up ... no sewer tunnels out here ... just solid ground ...”
His muscles flexing and straining, Powerhouse took a dragging step toward the bulky alien, his heavy foot tearing a trench along the way.
PCA
This was the tableau Vortex and Takayasu discovered upon finally reaching the action. Vortex yearned to cut loose, but Powerhouse was obstructing his line of sight. He said to Takayasu, “I’m moving for a better angle.”
“Got it,” Takayasu replied, already drawing his own bead on the walrus. “Watch your back. I don’t see the wasp.”
Vortex shuddered at that lovely thought as he skirted the combatants. He could probably laser the fat monster, but as the Noctoponm were proving every bit as tough as advertised, he preferred to hit the thing with a vortex wave.
Takayasu fired his V9. The stun charge shot past Powerhouse and struck the walrus in the chest, with the same disappointing results that Ensign Pendler earned during their previous encounter. Fine, he had to at least try. Closing one eye, he aimed for the alien’s hideous mouth ...
PCA
Satisfied with his opening, Vortex halted and prepared to fire — he’d try a narrow repellant shot to the head first, to see if he could break its concentration. If that didn’t work—
He heard the same buzzing sound as the others before him, but his innate phobia of wasps jazzed his nerves up to a precious advantage. He dropped to the ground as the wasp alien bombilated right over his head, its creepy feet dragging across his cape. He twisted around, tracking it as it banked for another pass. If he could quickly laser off one of its wings, he should still have enough juice ready to hit the walrus with a vortex and give Powerhouse a break ...
PCA
Takayasu hit the walrus’ mouth on his next shot, but the charge ricocheted off one of those nasty teeth. Like Vortex, he would’ve preferred a clearer shot, or especially a closer one, but he had no delusions as to how long he’d last under a gravity attack that was dragging down Powerhouse. He took a quick mental inventory of his PCA gear, but he couldn’t think of anything more effective under these conditions. Maybe if he could hit one of its eyes ...
PCA
The wasp powered in at Vortex. He waited until the last possible second, feinted to the left, then dove to his right. As the wasp whizzed past him, missing him by bare inches this time, he fired his lasers across its back, aiming for the root of its nearer wing. But the target was traveling so fast, his aim was off, striking the exoskeleton instead—
A burning spike pierced Vortex’s left tricep. He released a very unheroic yelp, rolling across the ground as he cradled his wounded arm. Had it gotten him with its stinger? It must have, which meant that his micro-chainmail wasn’t going to protect him.
The wasp banked tighter this time, coming back at him even faster. He scrambled to his feet — he still wanted to save his energy for a vortex at the walrus, so he’d try his lasers one more time, but if they didn’t work on this next pass, he wouldn’t have much choice left.
The wasp came in with all limbs spread, flying in low. All right, fine. The insectoid was fast, but not paranormal-fast. I can do this, he told himself. His arm was killing him, but for this, he mainly needed his legs ...
PCA
Takayasu fired twice more, but missed the walrus’ eye-orbs both times. He could throw one of his metal discs at it, but while those were good for breaking noses or giving concussions, he wasn’t sure they’d be up to the task here, not against this thing. Hell, he did still have that paint gun he’d picked up to catch the bounty hunter — maybe he could attempt to blind the thing.
Powerhouse had gotten several steps closer to the walrus, but under the gravity attack, his feet were digging into the earth as much as moving him forward; he had already sunk knee-deep.
Then, movement on his right caught his attention — the triclops was up again. Damn! If his V9 couldn’t penetrate the walrus’ hide, he doubted its chances against that stone skin. What could he use? What would a psi-jammer do against these aliens? He was willing to give it a try, but that begged the question: How the hell would he get a psi-jammer against a forehead that was twelve feet off the ground ...?
PCA
The wasp shot in for the kill, and this time, Vortex neither feinted nor dove, but launched himself forward to meet it. He reached out and kicked upward the instant before they collided, using the beast’s momentum to somersault into the air. The wasp passed beneath him as he upended, and he fired his lasers straight down onto its back, twin rays raking the alien from head to tail ...
... and it was only blind luck that saved Vortex’s life. The angle wasn’t perfect — Steve was a former gymnast, but these were hardly pristine conditions — so when his lasers struck the exoskeleton and reflected right back at him, their slant was enough that they only grazed one thigh instead of bisecting his whole body. The pain struck, and between his thigh, his already-injured tricep, and the natural vertigo of his somersault, he experienced a moment’s detached delirium.
Huh ... I guess he didn’t get me with his stinger after all ...
And then he landed flat on his back, and all the wind left his sails.
Smooth move, superhero ...
PCA
As the triclops approached, Takayasu felt around inside his coat pockets. If these aliens had the means to adapt to other planetary atmospheres, he couldn’t count on his tranquilizing gas pellets to do much, not that he could gamble on in the next few seconds. He settled on a sonic emitter; it might be his best bet. If the triclops dropped to its knees, he could try slapping on a psi-jammer—
As far as Takayasu was concerned, the flash of silver light that was the Shining Star was also a godsend.
The Grand Lord, recovered from the gravity attack, shot across the scene faster than Michael could follow, slamming into the walrus with a thunderous clap. The rotund alien splayed flat on its belly, saliva and a spittle of acid spraying outward — Powerhouse pressed onward toward it, now in a race to reach his enemy before it could recover.
Shining Star’s momentum carried him past the flattened walrus and into the chest of the triclops. He wasn’t able to knock it down, though, and as they wrestled chest to chest, the triclops’ new arms grappling while its outer arms sought to bring their wrist-blades to bear, Shining Star kindled his energy sheath once more — the triclops howled in pain and tried to shove the Taalu away. Shining Star drew back just a few feet, levitated higher, and kicked the triclops square in the face, the toe of his boot clipping its uppermost eye. It howled again, but its remaining two eyes were still in the game, and it slashed at the hovering Taalu. Shining Star ducked the attack, and nearly fell victim to a counter-kick to the face — he pulled away a split-second before the triclops’ foot connected.
Takayasu assessed the situation: Powerhouse was closing in on the walrus, but the stout alien was already waddling back to its feet; Vortex was some distance away and stirring; Shockwave remained down, with only a slight, sluggish tossing of his head to indicate that he was still alive. Where was the wasp? He could hear it buzzing somewhere above, but he couldn’t see it.
The Noctoponm were all still in the fight; the good guys were sharing some of their pain with the opposition, but not enough.
Again, Takayasu took inventory of his equipment, and his mind went back to his sonic—
“M-Michael!” Vortex cried in warning, his voice strained. “S-six o’clock!”
Takayasu whirled and, thanks to Vortex, ducked under the wasp’s dive-bomb. He fired off a stun charge, more out of frustration than any hope of its effectiveness, as the insectoid flashed by. A bolt of silver energy chased after it as Shining Star spared a moment to try and help Michael, but the effort cost him — the triclops backhanded the Taalu, and Shining Star hit the ground rolling.
“Don’t fire ... at the wasp!” Vortex called as he hobbled toward the fight..
Takayasu opened his mouth to ask why not, but a tremendous thud! sounded as Powerhouse dove for the walrus and missed, his body sinking into the dirt further than it slid forward. The walrus raised its arms over him again. Takayasu wanted to help, but the wasp’s buzzing was circling back around.
Triclops brought a blade down toward Shining Star, who flew backward and onto his feet. He thrust his chin forward, challenging the tall alien in Taalu, and extended his arms to either side, his cape flaring out behind him ...
... and the wasp zipped past Takayasu and struck Shining Star from the side. It scrambled up onto his shoulders and head, whipping its stinger inward, the glistening point jamming into the side of his neck directly behind his jaw. Shining Star cried out in real pain this time and spiraled down, with the wasp riding him to the ground.
Takayasu dashed forward, the risks be damned! He was about to find out how the wasp reacted when his sonic emitter fired off in its puckered little mouth.
Then the triclops stepped between them, its three glowing eyes glowering down at him.
Oh, shit. Too late to prep the emitter, he whipped out some gas pellets and hurled them into the triclops’ face, backpedaling to escape the fumes himself. But as he feared, the gas had no effect. He next flung a metal disc, striking the giant across its bony brow, but that fared no better.
Takayasu expected the triclops to slice him in half, or maybe just kick him into oblivion — the wicked smile on its face certainly suggested that intent. Rather than go down without a fight, he reached for his emitter and remote after all, prepared to set it off in his own hand if necessary.
But then the triclops cocked its head, looking past him. It turned, away from Takayasu and toward the compound. Retreating slowly, Michael glanced over his shoulder to see what distraction had saved his life.
The ground in front of the entrance to the burning manse roiled and buckled, dust spewing upward in three— no, four distinct bursts.
Oh, what the hell now?
The earth shifted and sank where the plumes had formed, and four humanoid forms rose from within. They were crusted with dirt, but in the firelight Takayasu could see they lacked any clothing, which in turn showed their lack of genitals — just like the alien before him. Their glowing eyes scanned the surrounding chaos.
“Oh, great,” he spat sarcasm at the triclops, “you can clone yourself, too. That’s just wonderful.” He prepared to throw his sonic emitter at the new arrivals, then maybe he would test his V9’s effectiveness against the triclops’ three eyes.
The triclops’ head swivelled back around to him, but its triumphant smile was gone — he got the impression this might not be its doing after all.
The figure furthest away, in back of the group of newcomers and coated with the least amount of dirt, pointed at the triclops. Without a word, the other three charged into the fray, their limbs pumping as the dirt spilled and flaked away from their metallic bodies.
Metallic?
The triclops caught one of them across the shoulder with a wrist-blade, but the other two tackled it, leaping at the last moment to reach its torso. The triclops flailed, all four arms trying to knock its attackers loose, and even the one its blade had struck rejoined the fight, grabbing hold of a leg and punching the triclops’ knee as sparks spurted from its own damaged shoulder. The tall alien finally toppled, all combatants vying for superior position.
Takayasu stood there, feeling numb as he watched the fight ensue. He knew he should get moving, either to help these new guys against the triclops or rush to the aid of his comrades, but it was like he had slipped a mental gear.
“Hey, you’re Lieutenant Takayama, aren’t you?”
Feeling like he was lost
in a dream, Takayasu turned to the voice. The fourth figure, the one who directed the others to attack, was approaching him at a slow trot, its servos making quiet little zt-zt noises that he could barely hear over the flames and bedlam. Its glowing green eyes looked him up and down.
“Glad you got here when you did. Pulled the heat off me, no pun intended.” The robot looked around. “Hey, come on, you should be doing something, shouldn’t you? I’m losing a fortune here!”
That made it click. “Asimov ...?”
The robot tried to shrug, but it wasn’t built with that kind of finesse. “I am now. These rogue sons-a-bitches killed me! It was jump into Daneel or nowhere— Look out!”
He ducked, and Takayasu followed his lead as a metallic arm sailed past them.
Takayasu was snapping out of it, but it was taking its time. Rick Miner, paranormal robot manufacturer ... here? Now? “I thought you were in Vegas.”
“That’s what you were supposed to think.”
“And you can actually possess your robots—?”
“Hey, will you drop it and do your goddamn job?! I swear I’m billing the PCA for every robot I lose!”
So Miner could not only build sci-fi robots, he could also transfer his consciousness into them — even after death, apparently. A Class Two who was secretly a Class One ... but was that really enough to bring the Noctoponm down upon him? What else could this enigmatic man do?
Turning away from this mystery that would have to wait for another day, Takayasu got back to business in time to see the triclops — with two robots still clinging to it and punching it repeatedly — crawling on its hands and knees toward its comrades. Powerhouse was close enough that the lumbering walrus was retreating by steps, and Shining Star was rolling around on the ground with the wasp, a flurrying of arms, legs, insectoid limbs, wings, and fluttering cape. Vortex was still out of the fight, but he had at least made his way to Shockwave and appeared to be taking Mark’s pulse — that worried Michael, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it.
Paranormals (Book 2): We Are Not Alone Page 33
