Battleship Raider, Paul Tomlinson [inspirational books for women .TXT] 📗

usually operated when there was a hull breach. I looked down at the gun – it was heavy-duty, but not quite up to the job of blasting through metal like this.

“Robots!” Trixie warned. I turned and fired back down the corridor.

“Mozzie, try and get that door open!” I threw myself to the ground as a projectile flew through the air and hit the door behind me, showering me with sparks. The impact left a nasty black mark but didn’t even dent the door. I fired off another shot, hoping to encourage the robots to keep their distance. Looking down at the indicator on the rifle, I saw that I had eight shots left – I would have to make them count.

“How are we doing?” I asked.

“There’s a manual override,” Trixie said, “in the hatch to your right.”

“Gnat, try and distract them.”

I crawled towards the hatch. I didn’t like the fact that the robots could see me in the dark and I couldn’t see them. Gnat began a bizarre aerobatics display, corkscrewing through the air and make sounds like a demented buzz saw. I swear the drone laughed like a loon when a blast from the other end of the corridor skimmed the surface of its casing. I flipped open the hatch. There was a huge lever that looked like something out of Frankenstein’s lab. I grabbed the top of it with both hands and pulled down with all of my body weight. My arms shook with the strain and I didn’t think it was going to budge. When it did finally move, it went suddenly and I went with it, almost planting my face into the floor. There was a pause and then a heavy clanging sound as the bolts securing the doors disengaged. The doors slid open with almost painful slowness. As soon as the gap appeared, the robots down the corridor opened fire, knowing I would try and fit through the gap.

With sparks and bits of molten metal raining down around me and smoke filling my lungs, I lunged and rolled towards the widening gap. Knowing I was exposed, Gnat tried to draw the robots’ fire. I heard an electronic shriek from the little drone as he was hit. He shot out through the gap, trailing smoke like a damaged fighter-plane, hit the floor, rolled and then slid to a stop. I scooped him up as I went through the gap.

On the other side of the doors, I dodged right and got to my feet. And then stood rooted to the spot.

I was standing on the edge of a cliff with the jungle spread out beneath me. Behind, the doors opened wider and wider and I could hear the rapid footsteps of the approaching robots.

Chapter Fourteen

The floor that should have stretched out in front of me was gone, torn away when the Celestia crashed. I was looking down at the tops of trees that had grown during the last forty years, filling the scar that the ship and gouged in the earth. Under less fraught circumstances I would have stood and admired the view.

The treeline began less than six yards from where I was standing and perhaps three yards lower. I briefly considered trying to jump across to the nearest tree. But if I made the jump successfully, there was a risk of crushed ribs and impalement on a tree branch. And if I was unsuccessful, it was a long way down to the ground below. The huge doors were still grinding open behind me. In a few seconds there would be nothing between me and the three security robots. I pulled on my gloves and headed for the edge.

The sky overhead was a sort of purplish slate colour. It was mid-afternoon and it looked like clouds had been building for a while. There was a storm coming. I didn’t want to be climbing down the side of the ship when the rain hit. If I could make it halfway down, I might have the option of sheltering on the subfloor that held the ship’s warehouse – or do they call it the quartermaster’s stores? I wasn’t familiar with the lingo. I’ve made use of military uniforms on occasion, but I’ve never officially been a soldier. I don’t think I have the personality for it.

The tear in the ship’s hull was jagged and warped, but offered plenty of hand- and foot-holds. It was perhaps a hundred feet down to ground level, but heights didn’t bother me. I’d climb up and down buildings much higher than this. What did bother me was being shot at by robots with big guns. The unevenness of the metal would make it more difficult for them to target me, but they were still going to hit me if they could see me. As far as possible, I would climb between the two skins of the hull so I couldn’t be seen from the ledge above. But in places, the hull had been crushed and mangled so there was no gap between the layers of plating.

Climbing would have been easier if I’d slung the rifle across my back, but I wanted to keep hold of it. One or more of the robots would start down after me very soon, and I would have to shoot it before it shot me. I kept glancing upwards, waiting for it to appear.

“Trixie, send Mozzie out and see if you can show me the robots positions.”

“Aye, aye.”

The video feed showed two of the robots standing on the edge of the ledge scanning left and right. The third moved to the side of the platform where I’d climbed down. I needed to be ready. I saw a space a few feet below me where I could wedge myself in and take aim at the robot as it came down after me.

There was a sound above and I looked up. The muzzle of a rifle pointed towards me. Gripping tightly with one hand, I swung out and round to