PeterWatts_Blindsight

Peter Watts 199 Blindsight
across two faceplates and three meters of methane. According to
HUD she'd lobotomized both grunts, bypassed all that wonderful
autonomous decision-making circuitry entirely. She was running
both machines herself, as manually as marionettes.
Grainy turbulent echoes appeared on the rear sonar display. The
scramblers had finished with their sacrifice. Now they were
coming after us. My grunt stumbled and careened against the side
of the passage. Jagged shards of alien décor dug parallel gouges
across my faceplate, tenderized chunks of thigh through the
shielded fabric of my suit. I clenched down on a cry. It got out
anyway. Some ridiculous in-suit alarm chirped indignantly an
instant before a dozen rotten eggs broke open inside my helmet. I
coughed. My eyes stung and watered in the reek; I could barely see
Seiverts on the HUD, flashing instantly into the red.
Bates drove us on without a word.
My faceplate healed enough to shut off the alarm. My air began
to clear. The scramblers had gained; by the time I could see
clearly again they were only a few meters behind us. Up ahead
Sascha came into view around the bend, Sascha who had no
backup, whose other cores had all been shut down on Sarasti's
orders. Susan had protested at first—
"If there's any opportunity to communicate—"
"There won't be," he'd said.
—so there was Sascha who was more resistant to Rorschach's
influence according to some criterion I never understood, curled up
in a fetal ball with her gloves clamped against her helmet and I
could only hope to some dusty deity that she'd set the trap before
this place had got to her. And here came the scramblers, and Bates
was shouting "Sascha! Get out of the fucking way!" and braking
hard, way too soon, the scrambling horde nipping at our heels like
a riptide and Bates yelled "Sascha!" again and finally Sascha
moved, kicked herself into gear and off the nearest wall and fled
right back up the hole we'd blown in through. Bates yanked some
joystick in her head and our warrior sedans slewed and shat sparks
and bullets and dove out after her.
Sascha had set the trap just within the mouth of the breach.
Bates armed it in passing with the slap of one gloved hand.