By David C. Daoust
Colin had forgotten himself. He moved with such speed of thought, that there seemed to be no time for any conscious consideration for what he was or even what he was doing– only that which he had set himself out to do. And what he’d set out to do– was the complete destruction of every slithering red form that could possibly appear through the grid of shadowy streaks.
Streaks that were, in fact, his own form passing by, but milli-seconds before. His blades were like long thin ribbons that sliced through anything they came into contact with… the damage was done before he even realized he’d passed.
Colin found himself racing over piles of dismantled assault-bots, scattered throughout the factory floor. Areas became sectioned off, walls of them climbing ever higher. The seemingly endless charge of felled attackers- slowly formed the ground layer of a junkyard.
They kept coming- he kept moving. White bolts of pulsar rifles flew- yet, he reached such speeds, that they seemed to just hang there in the air, waiting there- trying to play along with what they were… but they were –nothing-. He was past them, slicing into that which fired them— and those machines beyond that had yet to even try to target him.
As the walls grew up around him, he found himself racing over the top— more and more the assault bots would appear on catwalks above— leading him higher over the factory.
His thought and action were one. Just knowing that they wanted him up there, did not give him a chance to wonder why they would want him up there. For the thought of going up, was enough to cause the action to have already come to pass.
It was in this moment, that he realized how reckless he had become. There was a small thought of what may happen if he thought of the wrong thing… but the only thing in here with him, were the shadow hounds.
The thought of the shadow hounds, sent him careening in their direction!
The realization that he was about to slice through them, sent him up into a whole new level of speed, it was here, that everything was frozen– even his own body, suddenly careening away from the unintended target of the shadow hound… it was his turn to just float, waiting to be what he was again.
Contact with nothing but his own momentum, gave his mind a chance to catch up with what he had done…
Whether or not he actually struck the hound, was unclear.
What was clear, was that he streaked straight into a vat of molten steel!
The molten steel enveloped him.
Colin felt the thick weight of it come around him as he was dunked fully into the molten metal. While he could ‘feel’ its presence- it did not trigger pain. The holo-mech itself was not wired that way. Even one of his normal holo-mechs would not have forced him to suffer such pain- signaled just enough that there was an awareness. To tell him that something was wrong; maybe enough of a shock for him to react… but to such a plight as this- never even considered.
He found nothing but darkness- blinded by the malleable metal as it literally coated him.
He found that tick again as he lifted himself from the cast iron bucket, the time between becoming shorter and shorter. The metal did not want to release him. He pulled himself up, over the lip, metal dripping in great big gobs as he managed to pull himself free.
He dropped down to the floor.
Each step was harder than the last.
The slower he got, the more he heard that tick, the more he seemed to rejoin the real world.
Suddenly, he felt as he was blasted with something. Not a pulsar bolt, more like a great gush of air. And with it, he lost all mobility. He was frozen solid- encased in metal.
Needless to say, Colin Vice was really happy when he felt his mind suddenly pull away from the holo-mech. He knew Deloris had done her part and knew he’d be waking up to a few of her slaps, in a tick or two.
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