"Robert A. Metzger - Quad-World" - читать интересную книгу автора (Metzger Robert)

The spaceman's galvanized lobster claw jutted from around the corner. I wanted to crawl into the wall,
but my body had other plans. My right hand grabbed the claw, and instead of trying to push it aside
pulled it straight toward my chest, I wanted to close my eyes, but no such luck. I was sharing directly into
the spaceman's now startled face. Pulling him toward me had thrown him off-balance and he was now
falling, with that claw hand leading the way.

I'd be skewered for sure.

Then, at a speed that I would not have believed possible, I sidestepped like a matador skirting around a
bull. This move sent him sailing down the hallway, but apparently my body did not consider that sufficient.
My left hand shot up for his faceтАФpalm open. I caught him square in the nose. I could feel things break,
almost shatter. With a final flick of my wrist, my hand pushed his splintered nose up into his brain.

Suddenly looking extremely limp, he flew past me.

I turned.

I was back in charge. Whatever had been running my body by remote control was gone. I collapsed to
the floor.

Then I looked over at the spaceman. It appeared as if he had been kneeling, perhaps praying, and then
had simply fallen over, landing flat on his face. His ass was still propped up, pointing straight at me.

I had just killed a man.

My only experience with fighting had been in the fourth grade. The result of that encounter had been two
black eyes, six stitches, and a cracked rib. All mine.

The spaceman wheezed.

I scrambled down the hallway on all fours, moving like a scuffling crab. I only stopped when my head
smashed into a wall and I fell back on my butt.

He had to be dead. I'd felt him die.

Sweat dripped down my face and my vision began to tunnel. I told myself that all I had heard was
trapped air in his lungs gurgling up through his throat. That explanation didn't seem to reassure me.

Then, without the slightest warning, my stomach exploded. I didn't even have time to get to my knees, but
threw up in my lap. My already bruised throat burned, and my nose stung as stuff backed up through my
nostrils. One explosive burst was all there was. Putrid green slime ran down the front of my shirt and
dribbled over my pants. The stuff that now covered my clothes had absolutely no resemblance to the
waffles and eggs I had eaten for breakfast.

Standing, I felt the muscles in my legs start to twitch, and my left knee turned to jelly. Again I was on the
floor and again I tried to stand, this time almost crawling up the wall. I locked my knees and took several
deep breaths.

Somehow, I did not faint.