Armor Read Online Free PDF Page A

away. I would.
    He turned around and began the long difficult descent with the unhurried manner of a man with nowhere to go and nothing to do.
    “I would,” he said to the wind.
    The warrior, a blonde woman, was dead. But the ant didn’t seem to realize thatit kept killing her. Her body shimmered gruesomely beneath the blaster’s effect, exposing a meterlong gash in the armor. Scattered randomly about her on the hard canyon floor were the remains of other warriors, some twenty-five in all.
    A-team One, thought Felix from his hiding place at the far end of the enclosure. Now it’s just me. I’m A-team.
    He sighed. And then, Engine once more, he pulled his attention away from the carnage, away from the grotesque sight of his fellow humans, some halfway out of their armor, their swollen features fast frozen in the thin alien air. He would not, could not, stare at them any longer.
    Instead, he watched the ant. And waited. He had to. He needed power.
    After only ten hours on Banshee, he was down to 24 percent of capacity. At that rate he had less than four left. Four hours until the Larvafern, deprived of laser induced photosynthesis, would cease to emit oxygen. However, he needn’t concern himself with that. He would be dead long before that. The ants would kill him first.
    Two hours, perhaps. Two hours before the suit began to slow down. He would no longer be able to fight, no longer be able to dodge and duck. In two hours, he would no longer be able to run. They would have him. He would lie down somewhere. The weight of the armor would force him down. And in some canyon or gorge he would lie and wait, a helpless statue, for the ants. Shuffling slowly up to him and around him, gesturing to one another with heavy claws and snapping mandibles. They would prod him, poke at him, lean over and stare into his helmet, great gray globular eyes his last living sight.
    And then, pulling together, they would split the plassteel like a ripe fruit and he would blow out dying, his scream falling about him like frozen ice crystals.
    There was no question of hiding from it, no hope of a dignified sleep. Somehow they would find him as they always had before. Felix suspected they could detect armor by some natural process, given enough time. Never having any equipment only a handful with blasters even they must possess some inbred instinct. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. What counted was the fact that, so far, they had always, always, found him.
    He needed power. He waited.
    Three more ants, unarmed, appeared at the far end of the canyon. They gestured. The ant with the blaster stopped killing the dead girl and joined them. They left.
    Felix was out of the shadows in seconds. He inspected the corpses. Armor that had retained its integrity, he had been informed, also retained its energy supply. He found a charred warrior and lay down beside it to make hip-to-hip Connection. There was an instant’s brief hesitation as the young man, recalling the constant fighting and fleeing of the past hours, screamed silently. Why?
    Why continue? He was alone and lost and without hope.
    Why string it out?
    The Engine ignored this, grasping the armored shoulders before him and muscling the corpse into the bizarrely sensual embrace of Connection. The Engine smiled as the power surged to 42 percent. The Engine refused to die.
    A black warrior still carried twelve blazebombs. Felix removed nine, made Connection, and raised power to 60 percent.
    A sergeant with a broken neck brought it to 71 percent.
    The CO’s command suit brought it to 87 percent. Disgusted at gaining only 4 percent, he shoved the next corpse angrily away, refusing to recognize Dikk from the mess hall..
    The last possible source was an Asian girl looking far too young to be there. Her legs were twisted under her back, forcing him to lie with his faceplate against hers. He gazed blankly at her delicate features, then made Connection. She screamed.
    Felix vomited against his screens. Then he