Trinity University Reality Hackers

Page 142

papal coronation ceremonies. Is that your little group’s motto? While Jason was talking he moved in front of the next door and opened it. There was nothing inside either. -I don’t think I would be willing to divulge that information without at least knowing the name of the person asking. Would you care to share it with me? Jason didn’t like this at all. Koch had penetrated his mental defenses far too easily–he felt exposed. -My name is Jason Graves, now answer me. -Well Jason, since you answered so quickly I’ll tell you that I’m not affiliated with any religious sect and that my reasons for doing this are completely my own. Jason moved to the next door and opened it. Nothing again. -What reason would that be? There was a long pause. -Tell me Jason, have you ever considered the implications of consumption? Jason was barely listening. They always had some kind of weighty message to deliver; some sort of insight that made them think they were the next messiah. Jason just needed to keep him distracted long enough to find him. That in order survive by eating one must also be willing to destroy and even… He slammed the final door open. Nothing? Then he must still be… Jason turned around to see Robert dropping down from the ceiling right above him. A blade jutted out from a seam in the edge of each hand. “…kill?!” Jason fell back into the room, barely avoiding Robert’s overhead cut. He heard the blade sing as it sailed just inches past his face and rasp against the floor when it hit. Robert had landed in a crouch though and was already running toward Jason for another strike. But just before he got into range, Jason drew his pistol up and fired a round directly through Robert’s outstretched hand. It crumpled back, bursting in a rush of sound and smoke. Robert staggered back for a moment and collapsed onto one of the chairs behind him, sending a few plates crashing to the ground below. All that remained of his hand were two fingers and some scorched mechanical pieces embedded in his wrist. The table cloth was spattered in artificial 140

Reality Hackers : Transhuman : Automata (Short fiction)


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