Page 202 of Red Scale Daddy
The device pops with a compact electrical burst. The Reaper locks rigid, armor sparking from the seams, and tips over like a felled statue.
I stare at Pally. “You made grenades?”
“I made diagnostic interrupters.”
“They explode.”
“Only diagnostically.”
“Your whole family needs supervision.”
Roma grabs my wrist and pulls me toward the access passage. Her hand is small around mine, fierce and warm through the glove, and the contact nearly guts me because she keeps holding on even after the immediate danger passes. She does not seem to notice. Maybe she does and refuses to acknowledge it, which feels more like her.
We reach the side hatch, but it is half-sealed by Throgg’s lockdown response.
Roma drops to one knee in front of the panel. “Cover me.”
I step behind her and turn toward the fog with the stolen shock blade in one hand and my bruised knuckles ready in the other. Pally works beside her, tools already out.
“This lock has Reaper command architecture,” he says.
“I can see that.”
“You are bypassing the wrong layer.”
“I am bypassing the layer they expect me to bypass.”
Pally’s fingers pause. “Oh.”
Roma shoots him a quick look. “Do not sound surprised.”
“I am not surprised. I am proud and annoyed, which is worse.”
Fire cuts through the steam. I catch sight of two more Reapers advancing through the haze, weapons up, silhouettes distorted by vapor and emergency light.
“Family bonding later,” I say. “Company now.”
Roma keeps working. “How many?”
“Two I can see. More being rude somewhere behind them.”
“Delay them.”
“Gladly.”
I charge into the steam.
The first Reaper fires, but the vapor ruins his precision. The shot clips my shoulder instead of my head, burning a shallow groove across the pressure rig. I slam into him with enough force to lift him off his feet and drive him into the deck. The second tries to angle around us toward Roma. I catch his ankle as he passes and yank. He crashes down hard, weapon skittering away into the fog.
He kicks me in the face.
My head snaps back, pain blooming across my jaw. I spit blood into the mask and grin down at him.
“Fair.”
Then I bring my fist down.
By the time I stagger back to the hatch, Roma has the panel open and Pally is feeding a bypass pin into a lower junction.
