''I haven't liked it for some time. You got another one of those whizbangs?'' Kris passed it to him. He cracked the door a bit and rolled it out. Three seconds later, noisy, flashy hell broke loose. He counted to three. ''We run now.''
Staying low, he rolled right from the door. She rolled left, then wiggled for cover behind a bank of pipes. This ring was also industrial gray. Slugs cut the air over her head. She wiggled some more and spotted two attractive legs in red tights behind an elevated walkway. The legs led to a very intense face behind an assault rifle firing on full automatic. Kris was immediately in love with that rifle.
One shot, and a lovely face vanished.
Kris crawled forward, spotted another shooter, and knocked her down with a short burst, then finished her off with a single shot to the face. To Kris's right Jack handled similar problems. A few more wiggles, and Kris had the assault rifle. Not a Marine M-6, but it looked like a good knockoff. NELLY CAN YOU UNLOCK THIS RIFLE'S FIRE CONTROL SYSTEM?
NO, KRIS, IT IS HIGHLY CODED WITH LOCKOUTS.
DAMN, DOESN'T SANDFIRE TRUST ANYONE?
Nelly did not grace that question with an answer.
Kris studied the manual controls. If it did mimic the M-6. this dial should jack up the power behind the darts, squirt more juice into the fire chamber. She maxed it to the right and looked around for someone to test it on. A red was working her way across the floor. Kris waited for her to make her next move. A shot to the chest sent her spinning: she did not get up.
Super Spider Silk might stop a pistol. A slug from an assault rifle on maximum power was something else.
She checked Jack's quarter, found two antagonists, and brought both down. The floor became suddenly quiet as even the echoes of fire died off.
''Jack, I think we got them all.''
''Wait one,'' came back tersely.
She did, keeping a roving eye on the gray on gray of the industrial plant. NELLY, YOU HAVE ANY SPIES IN JACK'S AREA?
YES
YOU SEE ANYTHING?
NO.
Was Jack just spooked? Kris had a wall to drill and a plan to get moving. There had to be more trouble on its way. Time was wasting. But Jack knew what he was doing. If the hackles on the back of his neck said the bugs were missing something, Kris would trust his short hairs over Nelly's eyes.
A short burst came from behind Kris. She whirled to see a black-clad lump slowly tumble out of a long pipe, outfit changing to red as blood dripped slowly. A black staff, no a tube, crumbling under the fallen body.
''That's a blowgun, not a fighting staff like I thought,'' Jack said. ''They do want you alive.''
''Yep,'' Kris said, taking a look around. This floor had an office loft perched against the yard wall. Whether it was a supervisor's lookout or control station didn't matter; Kris wanted to be there. She pointed; Jack nodded and followed her as she trotted for it. He took short detours to pick up some ammo pouches and another long rifle.
Kris made it to the station and up the ladder with no more shots fired. Jack slammed the door behind him, then shoved a desk up to block it. Kris zipped down her coveralls and pulled out the laser.
''You didn't bother with underwear today, I see,'' Jack said, taking the other handle on the laser.
''I figured Super Spider Silk ought to protect me from catching anything. What are you doing, sneaking a peek? I thought you agents were beyond that,'' she said, turning the laser on and adjusting the beam down to its finest.
''Sometimes it helps to get a good look at the body we're protecting,'' Jack drawled. ''Hold that laser steady,'' he added as Kris took one hand off it to give him a swat.
They steadied the beam. Around the hole, metal turned to liquid and splattered. In the center, it vaporized, giving color to an otherwise invisible beam.
''Kris, there is movement on the work floor,'' Nelly said.
''Can you hold this?'' Kris asked.
''Pull that chair over here,'' Jack said. Kris gently gave up her hold on the laser. It dipped a bit, then Jack got it back to the hole they were working on.
She risked a glance out the window. A fusillade from several directions shattered the glass upper half of the office, showering her and Jack, but the metal bottom sent ricochets flying. Kris slid the chair in place. It wasn't quite high enough. She duck-walked to the desk, found some reports, and added them to get it the right height. Jack adjusted it, then reached for his rifle.
''There are three grays at fifty meters, say ten o'clock,'' Nelly told them. ''A pair of reds are closer, one at one, the other at two o'clock.''
''I'll take the reds,'' Jack said.
''You armored?''
''Isn't it a bit late to ask? But yes.'' Of course, neither of them had face protection. Kris and Jack fired out. The grays and reds fired back. Glass shattered into the small room, contributing nothing but making Kris move carefully as she changed her firing position from one volley to the next. The laser heated the room, even with the extra ventilation in the now windowless office. As the heat rose, the score stayed Christians 0, lions 0, but the lions had only to wait for dinner; time was on their side. Kris grew to dislike the present status as she bounced up to shoot, then ducked incoming. It was getting routine and boring.
''Time to do something to make life interesting,'' she muttered to herself.
''Ah gee, and I thought it already was,'' Jack said, ducking down as the space he vacated filled with darts.
''I'm bored. Can't you come up with anything more exciting to do?'' Kris said, then snapped off a dozen rounds.
''Hate to tell you this, Princess, but this ain't the best evening I've ever had, either. Think that laser is through.''
Kris glanced at it. No new fumes rose from the cut. She switched it off, careful not to move it. The metal looked plenty hot. ''Nelly, can you send a scout in?!'
''Did it as you were asking. It went through!''
Kris retrieved the ten pounds of only slightly dumb metal from her bustle and held it close to Nelly. ''Gal, slight change of plans. Can you convert some of the metal into defensive nanos, no bigger than the dust motes we want? they'll need to fight their way in as well as contribute for the explosion.''
''I am adjusting the construction as you wish. Seventy percent of the metal will be twenty-micron mobile units, optimum for coal or grain dust explosions. Twenty-nine percent will be defender units of forty microns. Still small enough to contribute to an explosion. One percent will be ignition units, also forty microns. Is that satisfactory?''
''Great, Nelly. Do it. I want to get out of here.''
''Interesting problem, Princess,'' Jack said, snapping off a short volley, then settling back down. ''We've got a solid wall to our back, albeit with one tiny hole in it, and five shooters, highly ineffective, but then I'm not really giving them much of a target to prove themselves on. I take it you have a plan?'' Jack slid over, fired a few rounds, and was down before return fire could make holes in him.
''Is air moving much?'' Kris asked as she watched the ten-kilogram cylinder of gray metal begin to melt away. She thought she could catch glints of light forming a path to the hole, but she wouldn't bet she was seeing anything but hope on the wing.
''Don't think so, why?''
''Wonder what two sleepy bombs would do out there?''
''I suspect I know what it would do in here.''
''But I don't plan to be here,'' Kris said, settling the thinning bar of metal down in front of the hole. She picked up the laser, aimed it at the floor, and sliced a hole.
''We going to disappear into the wall?'' Jack asked.
''Something like that.'' The chunk of floor bent back when she had three sides cut away. Beneath was a storage room, full of whatever the boss man felt needed to be kept under lock and key. It smelled musty and burnt now.
Kris dropped through and applied the laser to the next floor. It was metal also, old and apparently solid steel. It was also thin, probably predating the beanstalk, so it cost to get it here. She sliced through it quickly to find herself looking into some kind of isolated transformer room. She dropped into it, made her way quickly to the door, and took a peek out at the floor that had been the center of their firefight a few minutes before. A gray was helping a wounded comrade limp off, but no one seemed interested in policing up the wreckage.