John Steakley - Armor

A second blast rocked them, followed by a third and fourth in quick succession. The floor trembled crazily. The walls bowed inward, shimmering. The falling sand became a continuous cloud.

Kent laughed uneasily. “If they’re not careful, they’re gonna…”

A searing, bursting Shockwave slammed them to the floor.

The walls across the chamber buckled and split, spewing a huge chunk of plastiform into the ceiling. The ceiling, already bowing, split in turn. Great plastiform beams tore loose from their moorings and crashed to the floor all around them. Several holes burst open in the ceiling itself. Sand poured through in huge quantities, piling into cones that spilled toward them.

“Look out,” Felix warned Kent as a chunk fell heavily to the floor just behind him.

“Oh God!” Kent screamed, pointing back the other way.

Felix turned to look just as the great plassteel door exploded from its hinges. Ants boiled out of the choked passage toward them.

And then it was happening again and he lashed out at them, bashing them with his forearms or boots or the butt of the rifle. But without the Engine and its strength. Alone still and knowing it. Only his experience and his fear and the knowledge of nowhere else to go…

Kent, no killer, was awesome still. He obliterated them with the thunderous sweeps of his fists. He lifted chunks of plastiform and threw them. He threw beams, too. And sand. And much, much fear.

They were holding their own for several seconds and more. But it was a useless struggle with only one outcome, only one end, with the swarming upon them, pulling and tearing and raking at faceplates and seams, exhausted last-ditch struggles using energy as well applied to the screams equally certain to come…

“The hatch!” Felix shouted. “We’ve got to get back… !”

Kent nodded. He heaved a long length of plastiform beam—so big Felix could not have lifted it—at the nearest swelling gang, flattening the first four outright. The two of them took advantage of the momentary pause to back up quickly to where the hatch had been.

When they got there it was gone.

“Oh, no!” Kent wailed.

In place of the hatch was a warped square of plassteel crammed awkwardly into a sunlit manhole. The grenades had blown their exit apart.

“Try anyway,” urged Felix, shoving Kent forward. “Try jumping up through it.” When Kent hesitated, he shoved him again. “Try, dammit! Come on! You can see the sky there.”

Kent nodded, flexed his knees to leap… And another explosion staggered them. More plastiform, more sand, cascaded from the walls and ceiling. Felix righted himself with difficulty. The sand was almost thigh-deep now and it hampered his movements.

It hampered the ants as well, but not nearly so much. One vaulted forward at him out of the raining-pouring sand, its claws hammering at his helmet, its pincers snapping audibly for his middle. Felix threw himself back, threw a boot up. The boot struck at the ant’s pelvis joint, snapping it cleanly. But the upper ant grasped him still, raking and reaching. He brought his palms up lightning-quick from his sides and slammed them into the eyes. They exploded. The ant slid off as he turned once more to Kent.

“I’m gonna try it,” Kent yelled. “It’s better, see?”

Felix looked up. The plassteel hatch was gone. An uneven square of daylight remained. He nodded. “Go!”

Kent went. It was a sloppy, uneven jump. The sand packed about his legs threw him off-balance. But he made k, his arms darting up and grasping the edges of the hole and raising him up.

Another ant slammed into Felix through the sand. He tore its head off in his hands and threw it at the one coming behind. His boot touched something hard. He reached into the soft powdery sand between his boots and pulled out a helmet-sized chunk of plastiform. The second ant, hardly delayed by the skull, died instantly, beheaded, as Felix drove the chunk against and through its thorax.

“Felix! Come on!” Kent shouted.

“Right!” he called back. He stepped under the hole, aimed his leap. Another ant piled into him from the rear. He struck out blindly with his armored elbow, slamming it pistonlike against the great skull repeatedly. He felt the grip of the claws slip once, twice, then fall away. He should have jumped then, right then. But he turned around instead, wary and fearful of more to come.

They were coming. Four abreast staggered-stumbled forward, claws stretched out and working.

He should have jumped then, too. Right then. He should have tried for the only way out. He should have known better. The Engine would have. But the Engine was gone. And Felix, left behind, could think of nothing but running. And he did, away from the ants, away from the hole.

When it was too late, when he was too far away to go back, he stopped and tried. He and the ants hurtled toward each other.

The chamber, by now nothing more than a half-filled cavern, pitched suddenly sideways, throwing him off-balance to one side. He heard a deep tremulous grinding and looked up to see an entire section of the ceiling collapsing upon him. He jerked spastically away, rolling on his side in the cloying sand. The section crashed into the sand less than a hand’s width away from his hip.

Get up! Get up! he screamed inwardly. Move!

And he did, rising quickly but unsteadily. Too much! Too much at once and the ants… God! I’m so sick of…

“Felix! Felix! Where the hell are you!”

“I’m here!”

“I can’t see you!”

Nor could he make out the hatch. It was almost completely blocked by the debris. And the ants…? Crushed, he saw a second later. Some of them. How close they had been!

Then he saw the sunlight. The hatch! he thought and lurched forward.

But it wasn’t the hatch. It was a thin fissure opened by the shifting cavern. But it was far too small. He could never…

He spun about as more ants clambered toward him around the remnants of the ceiling.

“Felix!”

“I can’t get there!” he heard himself screech. Damn! “Get me a blazer,” he yelled in a more controlled tone. “Or something.”

“You can’t get back up?” Kent persisted.

“Ants!” he gasped, wanting simply to sink to his knees. The shouting exhausted him. “They’re between us.”

“Felix, I’m coming to help.”

The blatant sham of the tone touched him. He drew himself up sharply, feeling a hard and bitter grin tighten about his mouth.

No, you’re not! But you’ve got to say it, don’t you, Hero?

“Felix?” Kent called, from the sound not one bit closer.

“Yes, Nathan,” he hissed.

There was a short pause. Felix used it to throw a chunk of masonry at an oncoming ant. The trouble was, he couldn’t see at all. And the sensors were sharply localized by the Siliconite hanging in the air.

“Felix, do you want me to come?”

That too! He must let him off the hook as well! Great… Never mind. It’s over. Do it.

“No, Nathan. They’d only get you, too. Save yourself.”

“Well… If you’re sure…?”

Felix threw his head back, cackling wickedly. Fuck you, Hero, he thought. Then he decided to say it.

“Fu…”

And again, the cavern pitched. The entire center support system collapsed during the rocking. A single beam, jutting up at a slant from the floor, was struck just right by a falling block. The beam see-sawed wildly, a fulcrum, vaulting up out of the soft sand. It flattened two ants against the remainder of the ceiling.

Felix shook himself. He realized he’d been just staring. There was something he should be doing instead of just…

“You fool!” he groaned disgustedly…

He’d been waiting for Kent to come anyway. “Fool! he said again. “Come on, damn you!”