Richards had no intention of going back inside the ship. He'd seen what was in there; down below, in the engine room, and it was definitely safer in the main building with Stryger and Gilliam and their guns.

But it was too late.

The "storm" had already hit the facility by the time he'd seen it, and in those first few steps toward the door, Richards saw the main airlock vanish.

Not slowly fade from view when the dust thickened... no. No, the door blinked out as the near-solid wall of dust swallowed the facility, the wall, the door, the catwalk, and started eating away at the empty ground between it and him

And as it grew closer, the screams broadcasting over the comm got louder. More distinct. That's definitely what they were. Screams. People. Shrieking in terror.

It was coming from the storm. From that wall of blood directly in front of him. He didn't know how he knew, but he did. The screams were inside the cloud, and if the cloud caught him, Stryger and the others would hear a new voice added to the chorus of agony.

Richards spun and sprinted back the way he came.

The ship's airlock was already closed, but it hadn't cycled the air from his previous exit. The outer door swung open without hesitation... but to Richards it hardly seemed to be moving at all. He leapt inside and hit the "close" switch.

The outer door started down.

Inside the tiny chamber, Richards watched the screaming red darkness surge toward him, reaching for him as the airlock swung closed.

And the screaming... the screaming...

Richards disabled the comm, and a tomb-like silence accompanied the cloud on its approach.

The door sealed just as the wall of dust hit the ship. There was no impact... no sound other than the horror broadcasting over the comm.

The airlock hissed loudly as the cycle began to clean the air. The inner door chimed to announce the cycle's completion, then opened.

Richards was stepping into the corridor when something struck the outer door.

Hard.

The sound echoed eerily across the otherwise silent ship... and then the panel on the inner wall chimed, indicating that the inner door was sealing-

-and the outer door was about to open.

Someone was coming inside.

Richards jabbed the override, canceling the airlock operation. Then he spun the large metal wheel on the face of the inner door, engaging the mechanical lock. Neither door would operate now.

Something struck the hull again, much harder than before. Richards stepped backward, but didn't leave the corridor. He listened.

There were no more sounds. No more attempts to activate the airlock. Whatever it was had either given up, or it was still out there waiting.

"What's out there?" Richards muttered. He turned and hurried down the corridor toward the control room. "What's out there!"

The control room had a door. Richards closed and sealed it behind him, then sat down in the pilot's chair. He activated the exterior sensors... and reminded himself that there was no power.

Ahh, but there was!

Primary power was produced by the main reactor, which was online only when the ship was in space. Secondary power came from an array of fuel cells... all of which were missing, their empty slots stuffed with...

...But there was emergency power, driven by two sets of chemical batteries. One set was in the engine room. It was powering lights, life support, and the exterior airlocks. The second set was beneath the floor of the control room.

Richards disconnected the main feed and, with two switches, put the local batteries online.

Lights, alarms, and indicators came to life all along the control board. Richards quickly took inventory:

Primary power:  Offline.

Secondary power:   CRITICAL FAILURE

Emergency power 1:  Online at 47%

Emergency power 2:  Online at 98%

Life support:  Online

Communications:  Online.

Exterior sensors:   CRITICAL FAILURE

"Dammit!"

Richards reset the sensors, but they remained offline. Then he tried communications.

He flipped one switch, and the screams filled the control room. Richards reached to turn it off, but instead he merely reduced the volume and tried to transmit. The ship's comm array was a lot more powerful that the one in his suit... on par with the one Stryger was using inside the facility. Together they might be enough to punch through the... whatever... and reestablish contact.

"Stryger, this is Richards."

Richards listened to the voices until he was about to go mad, then tried again.

"Stryger? Gilliam? Anyone!"

Richards adjusted the settings in an attempt to filter out the noise, but it wouldn't go away. It was on every frequency, broadcasting at maximum volume. He was about to switch the system off when he heard a light crackle in the signal.

Something was trying to break through. Richards locked onto the frequency and put all the power he could behind his own signal. He still heard the screams, but the crackling expanded into something resembling a voice.

"...Richards."

"Stryger, its me! It's me; I'm on the ship!"

He waited. Stryger would be adjusting his equipment as well, and hopefully the next time he broadcast-

"Gilliam is coming for you. Stay put." Stryger's voice was neither loud nor clear, but it was enough to make Richards relax in his chair. He hadn't realized every muscle in his body had been clenched until he released them.

"Tell him there's something out there," said Richards. "Something tried to get in! Tell him-"

"Ye just told me, lad." Gilliam's voice was low and weak, but cut through the screaming quite easily. "I'm walking up to the airlock now. Gonna open up?"

"Do you see anything?"

"I see an airlock," Gilliam said, annoyed. "It's closed."

"What else? Anything else? Look around!"

"Have you looked outside? I can barely see the tip of my own gun out here."

"Something was out there."

"Like what?"

"I don't know; it.... something. It tried to open the airlock."

"And now I'M trying to open the airlock," said Gilliam.

"I'll be right there," said Richards. A few seconds later he was in the airlock, waiting for the air to cycle. When the exterior door opened, he stepped out into the haze.

There was no wind now. Whatever atmospheric force had brought the massive dust cloud to them had vanished when it was on top of them... leaving the ship and the base shrouded. Richards looked around, but saw no sign of Gilliam.

"Hello?" he said.

Richards activated the communication module on his suit, forgetting why he'd turned it off in the first place.

There was an instant of silence... almost as if it had been waiting... and then the horrible screaming tore at his ears.

"SHIT!" he cried. He tried to kill the circuit, but the screaming wouldn't stop. Frantically jabbing at the button on the side of his helmut, Richards turned toward the airlock-

He barely the shape standing next to him when it struck. The sharp upward blow caught Richards under the chin, sending him flying upward and back along the length of this ship. He landed on his back, eyes peering up into the red haze...

The blow had not touched him directly, but the power and suddenness of it stunned him. For an instant he had no idea where he was or what had happened.

Why was the sky red?

Why were people screaming in his ears?

...why were his eyes burning?

CRICK!

Cracks stabbed across his faceplate, radiating upward from the crumpled chin... where the planet's lethal air was hissing noisily into his suit. Awareness of the past few minutes snapped back into focus.

Holding his breath, Richards rolled to his feet and ran for the facility's main airlock- barely visible in the red haze.

---

"I don't want to go out there," Ethan said as the interior airlock door opened. Gilliam shoved him forward.

"You don't have much of a choice do ya, lad? What am I gonna do... let ya run around loose while I go out here ta fetch this useless sack of-"

"Yeah, you could!" Ethan turned to look over his shoulder. "What am I gonna do, eh?"

The front of Ethan's clothes were smeared in a mixture of blood and hydraulic fluid, and the horror of what he'd found in the ventilation system was fresh in his mind.

Bodies.

Bodies tossed into the main fan... chopped to pieces...

He swallowed. He swore he could taste the blood. He could smell it.

"The filter!" He pointed to the mask on his face. "It's not working!"

"Then I guess you'd better hold yer breath," Gilliam sneered. Then added: "It's yer imagination. What, ye've never seen bodies before?"

"I've never gone SWIMMING in them, no!"

Gilliam chuckled and activated the airlock. Air hissed out of and then into the small chamber for a few seconds, and then the exterior door opened. Ethan expected to be shoved out into the air, and probably would have been if the opening door hadn't revealed a single figure sprinting frantically -and silently- toward them.

"MOVE!" Instead of pushing him out, Gilliam shoved Ethan to one side and pointed his weapon out the airlock at the running man.

"It's RICHARDS!" Ethan shouted.

"I can SEE that!"

Richards was running hard. Ethan could see the panic in the man's bloody eyes...

-bloody?

And then he saw the cracks in Richard's faceplate. The corner of Ethan's upper lip twitched... not quite a smile. Not quite.

"What the hell is-" Gilliam began.

Suddenly there were two shapes in the dust. Another moved across Richard's path... it wasn't fast... wasn't even running.... but it seemed to appear and then disappear.

And when it disappeared, it took Richards with it.

Ethan blinked several times as he tried to figure out what he'd just seen.

Gilliam didn't bother. He just started shooting.

The armed man stepped past Ethan and swung his weapon in a short arc before him, pulling the trigger three times. Three bright balls of energy sizzled past where Richards had vanished. Immediately, Gilliam stepped to one side and crouched to avoid any return fire that, if it had come, would have hit Ethan instead.

"RICHARDS!" Gilliam shouted.

Nothing.

"RICHARDS!"

Ethan heard a sound... a crunch... something breaking.

It was followed by the beginnings of a scream. The scream ended in a series of wet coughs.

Another shape came out of the haze... this one skipping across the ground and then rolling to a stop just in front of the airlock door.

It was a helmut. The faceplate was cracked, and the helmut itself has been torn off. Not detached... ripped free.

Ethan noticed that Richard's head was not still inside it, but he didn't know if the emotion he felt was relief or disappointment. Probably a bit of both.

There was a thud from the haze. Someone falling?

Gilliam swiveled toward the sound, but didn't fire. Instead, he moved at an angle away from the airlock, keeping his weapon pointed in the direction the sound had come.

Ethan backed away from the open airlock door until his back hit the wall and his hand brushed against something. He looked down-

-the control panel.

This time, Ethan did smile.

The same thought occurred to both men at the same time.

Gilliam spun toward him just as the outer airlock doors swung closed. The door had no viewport, but Ethan heard Gilliam throw himself against it as the air began to cycle.

"Guys with big guns are usually compensating for something else!" Ethan shouted at the sealed, blast-resistant door. He didn't know if Gilliam could hear him or not, but he couldn't resist trying. "...In your case, I think it's brains! Have fun out there!"

---

"Bloody hell," Gilliam growled. He slammed his fist against the door, then turned to peer out into the dust. Shooting his way in wasn't going to happen. The control panel wouldn't do him any good... the airlock couldn't be overridden while it was active, and the first thing HE would have done once he was inside would be to lock it down... surely the mechanic was at least that smart. He could override it then, of course, but only Stryger knew the code.

Stryger tapped the comm circuit on his helmut and started talking.

"Hey St-"

Screaming voices assaulted his ear.

"AAGH!" Gilliam closed the channel immediately, wincing at the high ringing echo it left behind.

"All right then," he said. He checked the status of his weapon, smiled, and repeated with more volume, shouting out into the dust. "All Right Then! Come On Out!"

Immediately, Gilliam started moving. Keeping his back to the wall and his gun held ready, he made his way down the length of the building. He couldn't see the other airlock through the dust, but if he followed the wall he'd get to it eventually.

"Ya wanna play games, then, eh!" he shouted, still moving... crossing one leg in front of the other in slow, fluid steps.

There was nothing in front of him but the red haze. He studied it for signs of movement. Someone was out there. Someone had gotten Richards, and had set up some kind of jamming device to disable communications.

But whoever it was probably wasn't armed. He hadn't shot Richards, and he hadn't taken any shots at him either, despite the fact that he had no cover... despite the fact that he was giving every away his location with every shout.

Still, the attacker didn't take the bait. Unarmed, but not completely stupid.

"WHO'S OUT THERE!" Gilliam shouted, trying to sound afraid. He kept moving... watching...

Nothing.

A few minutes later, he reached the corner of the building. He stopped. To his left, the main warehouse wall stretched ahead as far as he could see.... which was only a few feet. He was about sixty yards from the airlock. The wall he'd been following disappeared into the dust to his right.

Gilliam glanced as his weapon, then gave it a long frown.

"...bloody hell..." he said, popping the power module out of the butt of the weapon. He squinted at it.

Almost immediately, something moved in the dust ahead of him. A shape darted forward-

Gilliam raised the "depowered" gun and fired three shots into the center of mass. Sparks and fragments of burning plasma radiated man's chest. The first two shots chewed away at the dark armor, clearing way for the third perfectly-aimed shot. The man fell at Gilliam's feet in a cloud of black smoke and an audible hiss of sizzling flesh.

He wasn't wearing a helmut.

It was Richards.

Without hesitation, Gilliam fired three more shots... one straight into the direction that Richards' body had come from, and two more at exactly 10 degrees on either side of it.

Neither hit anything.

Growling, Gilliam slapped the primary power module back into the weapon. His ruse hadn't worked. Not exactly. He'd verified that whoever was out there was still watching... but all he'd managed to do with that information was shoot up a corpse. Stryger wouldn't be pleased... Richards had been wearing a perfectly salvageable impact suit. Now it was worthless.

"Great," he said. He kicked the still-smoldering body and started along the wall to the second airlock.

Almost immediately, another shape appeared. Another man-shaped shadow, but this one wasn't running, and this one wasn't Richards. Whoever it was was keenly aware of just how far Gilliam could see in the dust. He'd been completely hidden a second ago, but with one step it had moved out of its hiding place and into Gilliam's awareness.

Now it was just standing there. Watching.

"And what the hell are you thinkin' aye?" Gilliam said, his lips curling into a smile. "Tryin' ta scare me? Trust me on this one, lad" you don't wanna scare me. I'm dangerous enough as it is."

Nothing.

"Well come get me, then."

The figure started to move.

Gilliam's weapon had been at his side, but with a single practiced motion he raised his arm and fired. The first round of superheated plasma cleared the barrel not before" not after" but the INSTANT it was aimed at the approaching shape's center of mass. The tiny, superheated projectile exploded in a shower of bright sparks, radiating from the shape's chest.

Four more shots followed so quickly that there was almost no pause between them. The shape stepped into the first two shots-

-and then kept coming.

---

Ethan squeezed through the space between the two airlock doors before they had finished opening. The corridor beyond was the same as it had been the last two times he'd seen it... but both of those times had been different. There had been men with guns threatening to kill him every other step.

This time, he was free.

No, that wasn't the right word. He wasn't free yet... not until he'd found a way to get Shaw away from that madman and get them both away from this deathtrap.

What we WAS, was loose. Unchained. Uncontrolled and unhindered... for the moment.

The question was, what was he going to do?

No doubt Stryger had him on a monitor... if not, then he at least knew that two people had gone outside and only one had come back in. He had radio contact with Gilliam, as well. His "freedom" was no secret...

...but with Richards out of the picture, Stryger needed a pilot. That took Shaw out of any immediate danger; Stryger might hurt her, but he certainly wouldn't kill her. Not if he wanted off this planet.

Thoughts moving not nearly as quickly as he would have liked, Ethan figured that his first order of business was to find somewhere to hide. Not for long... but he had to get off of Stryger's monitors at least long enough to figure something ELSE out.

What was it that Stryger had said about the lower levels? There were places down there he couldn't monitor. Perfect. The woman was down there, but he could either hide from or handle her without too much problem.

Ethan darted down the corridor, keeping to the right side where the light from the overheads didn't quite reach. The darkness held lockers, control panels, and various pieces of industrial equipment... but there were also rooms. Some of them had doors. Most did not... and the one he was looking for was one of the latter.

He didn't know the layout of the facility, but he'd been in facilities like it. He knew the way such places were constructed, even if he'd never seen this particular one before. Access to the upper and lower levels was through a main lift in the control room(s), as well as hatches in the outlying areas... near the exits. Some were big enough for machines; some only for men. Either one would work for him.

He found it. A small rectangular chamber much like the one where Gilliam had forced him into the ventilation shaft. But this time, instead of a massive pipe there was a retractable ladder and a circular hatch in the floor.

He grabbed the wheel on top of the hatch and gave it a hard twist. It unlatched with a loud metallic sound that reverberated down the corridor. The hatch could be locked from either side, or course, but no one had bothered. Lucky him. When he opened it, the hatch became a circular pool of dim light beaming up from the lower level. Pipes and wiring crowded around it, making the opening look like the glowing heart of a deranged spiderweb.

Ethan didn't bother with the ladder. He sat on the edge and slipped down, grabbing the rim of the hatch as he dropped. His fall halted, feet dangling for a moment... then he let go, dropping into a silent crouch on the grate below. The hatch had made more than enough noise; he didn't need to add to it.

He waited, listening for anyone approaching. Stryger would have told Tandem to expect his approach. She'd be on her way...

Nothing.

He slipped out of into the main corridor... narrower than the one above, but with the same overhead lights. Fewer places to hide.

There would be a dead end behind him, back the way he had just come on the upper level. The corridor might end in an equipment room or two, but there wouldn't be access to any other part of the facility. Ahead, the corridor would open up into a series of massive rooms where the actual drilling, mining, and processing took place. Plenty of places to hide, plan, acquire weapons and set traps if necessary.

He started forward, keeping to what few shadows there were. He stopped every few yards to listen for pursuit, but made up that time by moving quickly when he heard nothing.

After a short distance the left wall rolled away at an arc while the right continue straight ahead. The main chamber was a gigantic semicircle surrounding an equally massive open shaft. The walkway along the curved edge was wide enough to drive several large vehicles side-by-side... and in fact, several such vehicles sat abandoned along the interior "road".

The drilling and extraction apparatus hung from the ceiling. Most of its length had been retracted into itself, leaving the powerful burners, drills, and extractors visible. Below them, the mine shaft yawned like an open mouth atop a red throat that vanished into darkness. The first few feet of the shaft were covered with metal, but Ethan could see a brief stripe of red rock before shadows claimed it. The metal railing around the shaft seemed woefully inadequate to keep someone from falling in.

Two movable arms, one upper, one lower, hung motionless over the curved walkway, waiting to deposit extracted minerals into the vehicles. Ethan studied the apparatus. It was old... but it had also been in use recently... far more recently than the five or six decades that its vintage might indicate. The drill bits were new. Fresh lubricant glistened along the joints. From what he could see, the only thing preventing this machinery from operating was the lack of anyone to operate it. It wasn't designed to be self-maintaining; it would take at least ten people to keep it going. Thirty people to run it around the clock.

But there was no one here now, and the machines sat unused... as they must have for years before Stryger's people showed up.

IF Stryger's story was to be believed.

Along the straight wall was a long window. That room sat directly below the control room on the upper level. Shaw and Stryger were almost directly above him. Tandem might be waiting in the lower room, watching the window. From there, she could see the entire chamber-

-except for the part directly beneath the window.

Shaw dropped to his hands and knees and crawled along the walkway. When he cleared it, he rose to a crouching position... looked around... then stood, pressing his back to the wall.

No sign of pursuit or alarm. Stryger might not bother with an alarm, but Tandem was down here somewhere, and there was no guarantee that whatever had killed Richards outside had gotten Gilliam as well.

The corridor ahead was more than twice as wide as the narrow one he'd dropped down into. At its far end would be a cargo lift to the upper warehouse. Along its length would be machine rooms, processing equipment, and, of course, access hatches to go between floors. There were more shadows here. More opportunities to get behind anyone searching for him. More places to hide and think.

Ethan picked out the first such place darted toward it.

---

"Body armor," Gilliam spat, his thumb ratcheting the tiny lever on the side of his weapon even as he kept firing. One click" two" the pellets of plasma swelled from the size of a fingernail to half the size of Gilliam's fist. There was a pause between shots now, caused not by Gilliam's reflexes but by the weapon itself as it took longer to gather the power required for each round.

The next shot stopped the shape in mid-stride. The second forced it back a step-

-but then it took another step forward.

"GOOD body armor." Gilliam said" still amused. "But this ain't no bloody pea shooter I'm holdin'. I hate ta break it to ya, but whatever yer wearin-"

-click-

"-AIN'T ENOUGH!"

What came out of the weapon with the next pull of the trigger looked like a miniature star. White hot light seared the air as it leapt free, accompanied by a muzzle flash that would have cooked the eyes of anyone unfortunate enough to watch it" even the person holding the gun. Gilliam had closed his eyes the instant before firing, and opened them to see the shape engulfed in the spray of white fire and burning fragments erupting from its chest.

Gilliam braced himself and fired again, eyes snapping shut as he pulled the trigger.

The unbalanced shape flew back-

A third shot caught it in mid-fall. It hit the ground and slid a short distance in the dust. It was now on fire, unmoving, and charred beyond any hope of recognition.

That was unacceptable.

Gilliam marched toward the corpse. With his first step he lowered the power level of his weapon one click" .just one. He took aim with the second step, and with the third he started firing. Fire, sparks, and ever-large chunks of charred debris danced around the body until Gilliam was satisfied"

"and THAT wasn't until the weapon warned with a silent vibration that the primary power cell was depleted. Then he stopped. The secondary cell still had quite a few shots left, but only a fool empties a weapon completely.

Gilliam marched to the edge of the charred crater and looked at the smoking black shape at its center. Whatever armor the man had been wearing had held together well enough to keep its shape" two arms" two legs" something resembling a head and torso. The chest was mostly gone, with embers still glimmering in the edges of what remained. There was an audible sizzle in the air. Any flesh that had hidden inside that armor was now cooked to the bones.

"Are we done yet?" Gilliam asked the sizzling corpse. "So soon?"

He watched the body for a few minutes" basking in the details of his handiwork. When the sizzling started to die down, Gilliam tapped a button on the side of his helmet.

More screams. He immediately switched it off. Whatever device was jamming their communications was either located elsewhere-

-or it was still functioning somewhere in the charred mess of the corpse.

Not likely. But" possible.

"Damned if I'm searchin' through that mess. Sounds like a job for a hostage."

Gilliam turned to walk away, but he spotted something on the ground near his boot. A piece of colored metal about two inches long, half-buried in the dust. He picked it up.

One side was freshly charred and the edges slightly melted, but it was... had been... an insignia of some kind.

Gilliam glanced at the corpse, frowned at the insignia that had obviously come from it, then stared at the corpse once more, this time studying it with more than mere enjoyment.

The armor was ruined now, but what had it looked like before? Gilliam couldn't remember. Had he actually gotten a good look at it before he'd started shooting?

No. He hadn't. The dust had been too thick; the shape could have been wearing anything. Military-issued body armor? That much was obvious. The first shot would have blown him to pieces otherwise, but this one had survived" too many.

What model armor could take that much damage?

What" vintage?

His smile melting into an unsettled wariness, Gilliam clenched his fist around the emblem and started toward the warehouse.

---

Crouching in the shadows again, Ethan looked back the way he had come. Nothing. Then forward to where he was going. No one.

Several lights were out ahead of him. The walls and floor along this zone of shadow were almost black-

-no. They WERE black.

Frowning, Ethan slipped forward. At no point did it become too dark to see, but the details of his surroundings faded away as he walked. By the time he reached the hole in the wall, all he could really see was that there WAS a hole, and a room on the other side of it. He could see nothing at all of the room beyond, but the ruined doorway... doors missing, walls twisted and blackened as if by an explosion.

But an explosion hadn't done that by itself.

The wall opposite the door bore the distinctive scorch-marks of high-intensity plasma fire.

Weapons.

There had been a fire-fight; one that had either began or ended with someone setting off a low-yield tactical explosive. Wherever the missing weapons from upstairs were now, he at least knew that the crew had not only accessed them, but had used them as well. Against who? Corporate? Themselves?

Ethan remembered the flashlight Gilliam had given him. He retrieved it from his belt, clicked it on, then aimed it into the room-

-Tandem stared back at him from the darkness. The straight line of her lips twitched as she stepped out of the shadows where she'd been waiting for him.

Ethan took a single step back. Not a retreat... but he needed room. His eyes darted across his surroundings, looking for anything he could use for a weapon. He spotted several promising pieces of metal, but what he really needed was a gun.

Tandem kept coming, stepping over debris and-

-a body?

-calmly and silently, yet her eyes never left Ethan's face. She wasn't armed, but she moved as if she wasn't concerned about the disadvantage she had in size and strength. She'd lost the element of surprise as soon as she'd stepped out of the room. She had nothing on him.

She didn't care.

"You don't talk much," Ethan said. He was backing away, moving toward a well-lit area of the hallway. Then he stopped.

Tandem kept walking.

"You're going to make me hurt you," he said firmly. "I don't want too, but I will. You kidnapped us...

Tandem stepped within physical striking distance, but didn't stop. Didn't even hesitate... as if she expected Ethan to let her walk up to him and grab him.

"Last warning-" Ethan began, and then immediately twisted into a spinning hook kick, snapping the heel of his foot across her jaw.

Or at least, that was the intention.

Tandem blocked the kick with the back of one dainty hand, fingers relaxed as if waving at him. For an instant, she smiled. Then her arm rotated and those thin fingers clamped around Ethan's ankle. She spun... not just pulling Ethan off balance, but snatching him completely off of his feet. By the time Ethan realized he was airborne, his back struck the wall. There was a flash of disorienting pain, and when it passed Ethan was on the floor.

He sat up with a wince. Tandem was watching him; seeing if he had sense enough to stay down or if he wanted more.

As if.

He launched himself at the woman. She stepped aside and watched him stumble past. Then, as if in afterthought, she grabbed his shoulder and shoved him back toward the wall. Again, Ethan's feet left the ground. Again, his back struck metal, this time with an even sharper pain. He slid to the floor, eyeing Tandem as she approached.

His fingers brushed against something. A section of old pipe, maybe an inch in diameter and four feet long, lay at his feet among several more just like it. Abandoned maintenance material.

He snatched it up and darted to the side, spinning the new weapon as Tandem turned to face him.

Her eyes traveled along the length of steel. Then she shook her head, raised one hand and curled one finger back toward herself.

"Nuh-uh," said Ethan. "You wanna take me back to your boss; you're gonna have to come and get me."

Tandem gave a frustrated sigh and came at him. Walking. Not charging or attacking... just walking. Ethan twirled his makeshift staff in front of him. At first lazily... testing its weight and balance... but then faster. His eyes narrowed.

"I suppose I should warn you-" Ethan began, then stopped. "Nah, I guess you'll find out the hard way!"

He made a low sweep at his opponent's feet. Tandem hopped over it, and ducked under the strike aimed at her head... but the second attack had been a feint. Ethan reversed the sweep and send the end of the pipe in a slashing, upward arc. This time, Tandem barely managed to avoid the blow. She jerked her upper body backward-

Ethan struck at her legs again, this time catching her by surprise. Off balance, Tandem fell at Ethan's feet. He immediately brought the end of the staff down-

-striking the bare metal grate as she twisted to one side. The twist turned into a roll, and the Tandem was on her feet an instant later.

Ethan didn't give her a chance to recover. Aiming at where her head was going to be instead of where it was, he swung the pipe. Tandem didn't try to dodge; she deflected the blow with one hand. She tried to grab the pipe, but Ethan was already twisting away, retreating...

At Tandem's first step, his retreat turned into two spinning attacks, one high and one low. She dodged both, and both times he barely managed to get the staff out of her reach before she could grab it. She wasn't anticipating his movements like a trained fighter, but her reflexes were quick enough to achieve the same effect... almost. If he could attack a little bit faster...

Again, he stepped back. This time he didn't wait for her to come at him. He spun the weapon... an off-balance leg sweep; the work of an amateur. She hopped over it, scowling-

Ethan lunged, letting the staff slide forward in his hands, almost throwing it. The end of the staff caught Tandem in the face as she landed. The first hit was light and weak, using the pipe's momentum instead of Ethan's strength. But he immediately followed with a second, harder blow.

Ethan felt the pipe sing against his palms with the impact. But it didn't feel... right. And the absence of a "thud" at his feet wasn't right either.

Tandem was still standing.

The first blow had been enough to crack teeth, and the second should have rendered her unconscious for a nice long time. Instead, Tandem stood unfazed, running her fingers across the two bloody marks on her face. She dabbed at the torn cheek as if it were somebody else's, then inspected her fingertip as if she wasn't expecting to see blood.

But there was. She frowned at it. Then her eyes fixed on Ethan.

"You should be on the floor," said Ethan. He kept the surprise out of his voice, but it took effort. He sounded as if he were simply stating the obvious, but he moved as he spoke... circling around. "And I shouldn't be able to pick up an old pipe and use it in close-quarters combat." Tandem moved as well... this time with just a hint of caution. Just a hint. "Looks like neither one of us is what we appear to be."

The lazy disinterest was gone from Tandem's face now. Now she looked at Ethan with narrowed eyes... not frightened or even wary, but serious.

"I bet my secret trumps yours..."

Ethan swept the makeshift staff in a series of arcs before snapping it to a ready position. He added a quick flourish and halted the weapon again.

"Come get it," he said.

Tandem came.

 

[To Be Continued]