From Above - A Novella

by Jeremy Robinson

  The assailants pause at the sight of me bearing down on them in a fully armed mobile unit. I don’t give them time to figure out what to do. I take aim at the two closest to one another and open up with a lase-sweep. The solid beam of red hot energy slices through space, cutting the two men in half like meat on the butcher’s block. The other two rocket away, weaving in and out of the debris field.

  They think they’re getting away. They’re wrong. Obviously, these jokers have never seen what a mobile unit is capable of, or they wouldn’t be fleeing in a fairly straight line. Probably think all the junk between me and them will slow me down. Heh, this is going to be fun.

  I switch on the mobile unit’s auto-defense system and step on the gas. My cannons open up on all sides and unleash Hades. Every hunk of crap within twenty feet is turned into space dust. Anything missed by the cannons, I just plow through. Good thing there’s no sound in space or these jokers would hear me coming, like an angry avalanche...with guns. Too much fun.

  I lock on to one with an intelrocket. This is gonna scare the crap out of that last guy. The rocket flings through space, dodging debris with incredible agility. Aside from teleporting, there’s no way to escape an intelrocket once it’s locked on. Two seconds later, the third man explodes in a silent splash of guts, leaving just one more.

  He must have seen bits of his friend fly past, because his movements become erratic. Hasn’t he learned that shaking me is impossible? The man takes a ninety degree turn and I follow with ease, clearing a wide path for myself the whole way. I lose sight of the man and suddenly burst free of the debris and into a clearing.

  Shit! Shit, shit, shit. I should have seen this coming. At the center of the clearing, are what appear to be three Mooner-versions of my mobile unit. They open fire with everything they’ve got.

  I turn hard right and take two hits to my left side. Shakes me up, but I’m otherwise unscathed. After turning off the defense systems, I launch into the debris field, weaving in and out of old satellites and garbage cans. I know I can lose them and it might buy me some time...but for what?

  I turn on the com system and try Rehna. “Rehna, this is Priest. You copy?”

  “Roger, Priest. We copy. Where the hell are you?”

  “Got some unwelcome guests on my tail. How close are you to pulling the trigger?”

  “Ready when you are.”

  Fwash! A laser skims off the hull. Getting closer.

  “I want you to wait until I’m in your sights. Then fire that thing, full power.”

  I hear the kid grab the line. “You can’t! That’s crazy!”

  “Shut-up, kid.” No time to play wet-nurse. “Pull the trigger or I’m gonna die anyway.” I hang up, not in the mood for goodbyes.

  After entering the path I carved earlier, I floor it, pouring on the speed like a cybernetic cheetah. They’re right on my ass. Fast little bastards. I make a beeline for the Mooner-weapon’s attack zone and set the controls: straight ahead, full speed. I take my biohazard mask from its compartment and strap it to my head. Might help me survive.

  I pick up the com. “Rehna?”

  “We’re ready, Priest,” she replies, voice wavery.

  “I need you to go ahead and open the outer airlock doors.”

  She responds just the way I like it. “Done.”

  “Be ready to seal the airlock on my signal.”

  “What signal?”

  “You’ll know.”

  Bachoom! A shot hits me directly in the rear. Then another and another. Better make this quick.

  “Priest, you got five seconds before we fire.”

  I pop the hatch and it floats away at five hundred miles per hour. I push off the floor and float out of the cab at the same speed, as I enter the target area. The three Mooner ships continue after the mobile unit, guns blazing. Probably thought I was a piece of shrapnel they blew off. Their mistake, my salvation.

  Reaching out with my synth-arm, I wield a grappling hook, which I launch toward the Mooner satellite. It finds its home, embedded in the metal hull and catches tight. At five hundred miles per hour, even in space the pull is incredible. It takes all of my cybernetic strength to hold on, as I swing wide, out of range. A second later, my vision blurs as the weapon fires and the three Mooner ships cease to exist, along with my mobile unit.

  My chest begins to burn. I’m longing to take a breath, but I know if I do, I’ll just suck in the cold of space. The face mask over my eyes holds nicely and gives me the ability to aim where I’m going, spinning around the satellite, over and over again like a wild tetherball getting closer and closer to the pole. My speed slowed at first, but has picked back up with every revolution. This is gonna hurt.

  On my last revolution, I can tell that my aim was true. Instead of slamming into the outer hull, I’m about to be flung inside the open airlock. I lead with my synth-arm, letting it take the majority of the impact and using it to slow the rest of my body before I slam into the airlock doors.

  The impact knocks the wind out of me and I feel desperate to suck in air. But I know if I do, I’m dead. My vision starts going black, and I concentrate on keeping my mouth shut, clenching my jaw. I feel hands grab my shoulders and pull, but it’s the last thing I sense.