V. Larson - Velocity

As they got closer to the immense hull of the starship the crowds grew thicker and more reluctant to make way for them. When they had made their way underneath the super-structure of the docking towers, the vast bay doors in the hull above opened. Huge ramps lowered slowly toward the ground, with deafening low-pitched groans of shifting metal.

Mulciber was pushed back by the sheer weight of the crowd as it tided backward in fear of being crushed. In the confusion of bodies and faces he lost sight of his quarry. His keen eyes swept the gray-clad hordes for a splash of color but saw none. Moving with decision, he waded and shouldered and shoved his way toward the nearest leg of a docking tower, planning to climb it and survey the scene from above. Reaching the foot of the tower, he easily pulled himself up into the grid-work of steel and onto the first tier. He watched for a moment as the foremost ranks of the crowd mounted the ramps and entered the starship.

Then he turned his gaze down into the seething mass of faces. After a moment he picked out Suzy in her colorful, gauzy clothing. Kars was not with her. Mulciber was surprised to see that she was quite near, almost at the foot of the docking tower he had climbed. Even as he picked her out, she caught sight of him and commenced waving and signaling. Mulciber was already turning when his finely-tuned ears picked out a sound from amid the rolling thunder of the crowd. The sound of stealthy approach from behind.

He whirled to face his attacker, his arms rising into position, his perceptions slowing and his reactions speeding up. Kars, grinning, directed a hissing spray into his face. Vapor gushed out from a tiny oval dispenser in Kars’s hand, invading Mulciber’s nostrils and coating his face and eyes with tiny droplets. Mulciber’s vision began to fade immediately, but his nerves, desensitized to pain, failed to be stunned by the attack.

“I can climb too, street-” Kars began, his words were cut off by Mulciber’s right hand, which had struck out like a snake to grasp his throat.

The poison worked to paralyze him, but as it was a contact poison and Mulciber’s skin was not porous, it could only penetrate through the surfaces of his eyes and sinuses. This slowed down the effects enough to allow Mulciber to squeeze Kars’s windpipe with all the crushing force of his new hands, although he could do little else.

Only the powerful muscles and tendons in Kars’s neck kept him from immediate death. Mulciber could still see enough to watch Kars’s face contort with rage and grow purple. In silent and wild anger Kars ripped and struck at Mulciber’s outstretched arm, but the iron muscles held. Mulciber concentrated all his remaining will upon crushing the life out of his opponent. He began to lose control of his body, he was distantly aware of the fact that his legs were buckling. His vision was gone, his nerves were dying. Still he held on, his hand clamped in a final grip of steel. He distantly felt sharp spikes of displeasure and warm sensations in his midsection where Kars landed heavy kicks and punches in desperate fury.

Mulciber’s artificial ribs gave, the protected organs underneath would soon be ruptured. He slipped to the metal deck of the docking tower, nerveless and blind. Kars worked with all his strength to tear away the unfeeling fingers that clamped his throat. He finally managed to pry away Mulciber’s weakened grip. Kars leaned against a steel beam, massaging his throat and making choking sounds. When he could articulate, he gave a hoarse laugh.

“You’re dead!” he gasped out, sneering down at Mulciber’s prostrate form. “When the poison reaches your autonomic centers your heart will stop beating and your lungs will no longer function.” Kars gave another short bark of laughter and kicked his helpless adversary in the abdomen. Mulciber felt a sick explosion, but could not react.

Kars paused before climbing down from the tower. “While you die,” he hissed to Mulciber. “I want you to think of me. Just think of my smiling face.”

Mulciber heard him, but could only lie motionless, his nerves in effect severed by the paralytic poison. In minutes the poison would reach his autonomic nerve centers and kill him. But there were other forces at work. His overbuilt body contained several artificially implanted organs which tapped into his circulatory and nervous systems to monitor his vital bodily processes. One such artificial organ, attached to the arteries leading into the liver, detected a foreign substance in his blood stream. A microprocessor analyzed the poison and a counter-agent was released to combat the effects. Other bodily functions, some natural and some not, worked to control the injuries Kars had inflicted. Due to the combined efforts of Mulciber’s artificial organs and his naturally strong constitution, the poisoning was not fatal. The counter-agents released into his bloodstream neutralized the paralytic drug rapidly.

After five minutes his senses had returned. Two minutes later he was able to rise stiffly. His new skin had sealed itself over his wounds. Stimulants and pain relievers borrowed time for him, keeping his injuries from slowing him. In less than ten minutes after the attack, he was ready to fight again. While his body worked to repair itself, Mulciber surveyed the docking tower and landing area with gradually improving vision. He sat crouched on a crossbeam, one with the shadowy tower. His unnatural physique had given him a second chance at his enemy, and this time he would not be taken unaware.

The crowds had evaporated for the most part. The last of the colonists were being expertly hustled aboard by uniformed officials. The remaining well-wishers stood in gray clumps on the vast littered expanse of concrete, awaiting the final departure warning that would send them scurrying back to the gates. The final warning indicated that the prisoners were to be loaded into the holds, and anyone left on the field would be treated as one of the prisoners. Kars and Suzy were nowhere in sight. He noted that there were no signs of Kars having gone after the boy that Mulciber had been directed to kill. The boy and his retainers had apparently made it aboard safely.

The final warning sounded. Mulciber’s gaze, no longer impaired, swept the scene for any sign of Kars or Suzy. He saw none. Another minute passed. The last of the gray-clad stragglers hurried away from the starship. Even as they streamed through the gates, a number of large airships floated down out of the night sky, escorted by two police cruisers each. The airships and police cruiser all bore the gold embossed letters UCP, the insignia of the United Chicago Police. The airships landed and their bays swung open. A flood of prisoners were herded out and toward the starship by cursing guards brandishing electric whips. Mulciber watched the proceedings, tensing his muscles, preparing to break for the gate. The guards abandon the prisoners several hundred yards from the starship’s ramp, as the ship was not part of their jurisdiction. The prisoners, left with the choice of boarding the ship or staying outside and being incinerated by her jets upon takeoff, boarded without much hesitation. As the last of them mounted the ramp, Kars suddenly appeared, dragging a disheveled-looking Suzy behind him.

Mulciber, who was about to leap from the docking tower and make a break for the gates, switched directions and launched himself into the air toward the starship. Mulciber hit the concrete running. His muscular legs pumped, the balls of his feet smacking in perfect rhythm. He stretched his stride further, increasing his speed. His heel crushed a discarded styrofoam cup. As he ran he cleared his mind of all extraneous thought. His body prepared itself for battle. Stimulants kept the effects of his injuries to a minimum. When he was less than one hundred yards behind Suzy and Kars he felt his perceptions slowing, so that each second seemed an eternity, giving him time to plan each move of his attack.