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Something drifted in front of his face. At first his obscured vision wouldn t let him see just what
it was. He pulled his head back as far as it would go, blinked several times. A small cylinder, about
the size of a roll of quarter-credit coins, floated up against the plate. He slowly turned and the ship s
lights angled across his faceplate, giving him a better view. The cylinder had a digital counter on it
The coldness stabbed Easley all the way to his bones.
The cylinder was an AP grenade. And the flashing numbers on it were going down.
Five& Four& Three&
Nnnooo! Finally, he managed a word.
It didn t help. He was going to
The hull pickups polarized as the blast of fight washed over them and the spacesuited figure
shattered soundlessly into fragments. Body fluids crystallized almost instantly in the cold vacuum,
spraying into frozen, colorless, gauzy clouds against pinpoints of distant stars in the blackness. Pieces
of suit and flesh tumbled away, some hit the ship s armor harmlessly. On the bridge, the tech said,
Oh, man. The pilot merely nodded. What a way to die. He wondered if the guy knew what hit him.
He hoped not.
15
In Houston, Likowski, James T., had been given the news.
There was a thing growing inside of him. Sooner or later, it was going to pop out of him like a
birthday surprise, eating its way free, and when it was born, he would die. So long, Jim. Nice
knowing you.
Simple.
He had been numb with the shock, and when that had worn off, the fear had claimed him. He
was going to die.
Dr. Dryner and Dr. Reine were sorry, but there was nothing they could do.
Can t you kill it? Cut it out?
Not without killing you, Dryner said. It s a very tenacious life form. He was calm, as if he
were discussing the weather. Easy for him. He didn t have a monster growing in his belly.
Oh, God.
The two doctors stood next to where Jim sat on the bed, both of them safely wrapped in
cleansuits. An armed guard stood just behind them, also suited. He had a handgun holstered on his
right hip.
So I m like an incubation chamber for this thing. It was not a question.
Yes. Listen, if it is any consolation, your wife will get the full insurance. She ll be taken care
of.
Oh, right, that makes me feel a whole lot better. The sarcasm made the words bitter. Now
that he knew what it was, he was sure he could feel the thing moving inside him.
Getting ready to rip his guts out.
No!
Hey! he said, putting his hands over his belly. He suddenly stood up next to the bed, made
himself sway a little.
The doctors showed concern.
Likowski? Are you all right? James?
Telemetry, what s going on?
They weren t worried about him, he realized, but about their pet creature inside him. Damn
them.
I something s happening! He began to jerk, as if losing muscular control. Yeah, something
was happening, all right, but not what they thought. He snatched his arm away from Reine, slapping
the man s face in the process. He danced in a little half circle, shivering.
Reine backed away. Dammit!
Come on, come on, get the guard over here!
Give us a hand! Reine ordered.
Good.
The guard, a burly man, wore his sidearm in a snatchproof rig, an old-style Delrin thumb-break
strap keeping it safe in the holster. Jim knew about them, he d done a tour in the Street Guard,
they d used the same kind of gear. If it had been a military hand ID unit, he wouldn t have a chance,
but it wasn t, the guard was wearing gloves and the more sophisticated rig needed a bare hand for a
print to register.
The guard grabbed him by the shoulders and Jim let himself be pushed toward the bed, where
they could trigger the pressor field to hold him in place. I m it s okay, it s gone now. He
pretended to relax. Thanks for the help, he said to the guard. He smiled.
When the guard smiled back from behind his clear faceplate, Jim reached down, rotated the
thumb-break safety, popped the crow-tab, and pulled the gun from the holster. The weapon was a
4:4mm softslugger with a hundred-round magazine. The safety was in the trigger, it only had to be
pulled. Jim twirled the pistol in his hand, pointed it at the guard, and fired.
Five rounds of hypervelocity softslugs tore into the man. The bullets were designed to
mushroom on impact, to expend all of their energy on a human target without passing through the
body. The entrance holes were small the bullets would punch through class III body armor but
the missiles then expanded and dug craters the size of a baby s fist through vital organs.
The guard fell. He wasn t going to be getting up on his own.
Dryner and Heine turned to run, but Jim gave them two rounds each between the shoulder
blades and they tumbled.
A siren hooted, over and over.
Jim turned to the mirrored wall and let go a dozen shots. The plastic chipped and shattered and
he threw himself at it, falling through into a room with techs and more guards digging for weapons.
Jim came up, spraying the room. Men screamed and fell.
He paused long enough to dig out a spare magazine from the belt of a fallen guard, jamming it
into the waistband of his hospital shorts. He ran.
Guards spilled into the hall. Jim shot them.
He found a keycard on a dead one next to the exit, waved the card at the scanner, and
flattened himself against the wall as the door slid open.
Two guards came through, guns out. Jim emptied the last twenty shots in his softslugger into
them. They fell like their legs had disappeared.
He ejected the empty magazine, snapped in the fresh one. Han.
He made it to a building exit. Shot three unarmed people who tried to stop him. They didn t
matter.
Outside it was hot, damp, the air had an oily stink, but that didn t matter, either. He was free.
He ran into the street. Behind him somebody yelled. He spun, fired a couple of shots, missed.
The softslugs spattered on the synstone walls like drops of dark paint dropped from a great
height.
A hovercar fanned to a dragstop, almost hitting him.
Jim ran to the car, pointed the weapon at the woman driving. Out! he screamed.
The woman obeyed, terror in her eyes. He waved her away. She was a civilian, no reason to
shoot her. He leapt into the car. Pulled the dragstop up, shoved the leaners on full. The car blew dust
up, fanned away.
A round of hardball spanged against the car s body. A second tore through the canopy, but
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