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

them. The rapid thump-click of the dragon’s clawed feet hitting the deck was closer than I would have liked. He could leap and climb and was a much more agile pursuer than the robot. Once I was up on the walkway, I could use the axe to defend myself. But if the dragon seized me while I was on the stairs, I would be consumed in bloody gobbets. Using hands and feet I scrambled up the steps. I felt the staircase shake as the dragon jumped onto it.

A movement way over to my right caught my attention. The robot was climbing another staircase, heading for the same walkway as me. I was going to be attacked from two directions.

The pounding of the dragon’s steps and those of the robot were causing the stairs and walkway to vibrate. Could this old metalwork support their combined weight? Not to mention the stresses of any sort of fight up there. Knowing my luck, I’d be the only one who didn’t survive the drop when the walkway collapsed and the other two would fight over my broken body. Morbid, I know. But if this wasn’t an appropriate moment for dark thoughts, I don’t know what is.

The movement of the walkway had achieved earthquake proportions by the time I got to the top of the stairs. The robot was already on the walkway, striding towards my position. I risked a glanced back and saw the dragon was having some difficulty on the stairs. It didn’t – or couldn’t – use its upper claws to hold onto the handrails and so was trying to use its tail for balance. And the claws of its feet seemed to be getting caught on the metal mesh that the steps were made from. A good solid kick would probably send the dragon tumbling backwards. But I didn’t want to risk either of my favourite feet anywhere near those shark-like jaws. But I did still have explosive rounds left in my pistol. They wouldn’t penetrate the dragon’s thick scaly hide, but the impact might knock it off its feet. I took aim and fired – two rapid shots.

The dragon’s look of surprise was almost comical as it fell backwards. I saw it hit the hangar deck and lie still. Then it twitched, regaining its senses, and got back to its feet. This obviously concerned me, but the robot presented a more immediate threat. It was striding closer and closer. I backed away. Behind me was a sealed metal door. It might open if I pressed my ID tag to it, but it might not. My only other possible escape was to jump over the railing – and learn to fly before I hit the deck thirty feet below.

The robot was level with the stairs I had climbed. It stopped and looked down. The dragon had started up the steps again. With a few swift, powerful swipes of its cleaver, the robot sliced through the metalwork of the stairs, cutting through each of the points that supported the structure. The staircase tipped sideways, throwing the dragon back onto the deck. The clatter as the stairs hit the deck echoed around the hangar.

The dragon leapt to its feet and shook itself. It looked up at the robot and roared, as if to say ‘You bastard!’ It squatted back on its haunches and then launched itself upwards. Teeth snapped together with a loud clack! a few inches below the walkway.

The robot brandished its cleaver as if to say ‘Back off, reptile, the human is mine!’ Then it turned its attention to me.

I had my back to the door and was frantically tapping my ID tag against the lock’s sensor, trying to get it to open. But apparently I lacked the necessary clearance level and needed to consult my supervisor.

The robot stopped a few yards away. There were still bits of the sticky foam on its head. It looked like it had been hit with a cream pie. It stared at me. Then it looked down at the walkway at its feet. I wondered what thoughts were echoing around its metal skull.

Off to my right, I could hear the clacking of the dragon’s teeth as it kept leaping up. It seemed to be trying to reach me now rather than the robot. Presumably because I smelt more edible. Unless it suddenly grew wings, I didn’t think it would reach me before the robot did.

I looked around me, desperately seeking something that I could cling to or climb up. But the walls were smooth. No pipes, no wires – not even a line of rivet heads. The roof beams were way above me – not within leaping distance. I took the hammer out of my pocket and began hitting the door’s lock mechanism. This caused some sparks but achieved nothing useful.

The robot looked over the railing at the dragon, then at me, and finally back down at the walkway at its feet. And I knew what it was thinking.

“Please, don’t...” I said.

The robot was standing directly over an iron pillar that supported the walkway. The section I stood on was supported by the same pillar at one end and at the other by bolts in the steel wall behind me. The robot was calculating what would happen if it sliced through the metalwork so that my section of the walkway was no longer supported by the pillar. Would the bolts in the wall be strong enough to hold it up unaided?

“Please...” I said again.

The robot gave something that looked like a shrug – and began hacking at the metal. The walkway under me shook. I pressed my ID tag to the smashed lock again and again, hoping for a last minute miracle. Below me, the dragon had stopped leaping and was looking up expectantly. Perhaps it understood what was going on. It was waiting for dinner to drop into its lap.

The robot sliced through the metal handrail and the barrier meant to stop people accidentally