"Tales Of The Bounty Hunters (Kevin Anderson)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anderson Kevin J)

erect position, not to restrain him against his aug-
mented strength. He applied extra power to his right
arm. The servomotors whined, and the durasteel band
ripped from its supports.
"Look out! He's moving!" one of the technicians
shouted.
IG-88 began to search through his files to attach a
name to this human, but decided it wasn't worth his
time at the moment. Instead, he designated the human
simply as Target Number One.
IG-88 powered on a cutting laser in one of the metal
fingers in his free right arm and sliced off the second
band. Free, he stood erect and clomped forward, sev-
eral metric tons of precisely-made components.
"He's loose!"
"Sound the alarm," Chief Technician Loruss
shouted. "Get the security detail in here. Now!"
IG-88 allotted a grudging moment of admiration for
the chief technician. Loruss at least recognized his ca-
pabilities and knew the full extent of the threat facing
her and her companions.
IG-88 designated Chief Technician Loruss as Target
Number Two.
He raised both mechanical arms and pointed his
hands, targeting separately with the repeating laser can-
nons mounted along each arm. He would make short
work of all fifteen targets in the laboratory.
But when he tried to fire, IG-88 noted with some
surprise and disappointment that his energy weapons
systems were not charged. The scientists had not armed
him yet. A smart move, perhaps -- but ultimately irrele-
vant. IG-88 was an assassin droid, a sophisticated merce-
nary and killer. He would find other methods with the
raw materials available to him.
As the first technician -- Target Number One --
lunged for the emergency alarm to summon security,
IG-88 moved with blurring speed to the component-
laden table. He snatched up a disconnected droid arm.
With its metal fingers splayed like daggers, it made the
perfect projectile weapon. He scanned the surface of
the metal limb, calculated a flight path and expected
deviation due to air resistance, then hurled it like a
spear.
The disconnected droid arm plunged into the back
of the turning technician, tore through his spinal col-
umn, and followed through his sternum. The lifeless
metal hand protruded through splintered bone in the
front of his chest, holding the technician's quivering
heart in rigid metal fingers. Target Number One col-
lapsed onto one of the diagnostic panels.