“Salvo, what can we—” Fin screams in agony. One of the bots drills into his leg. Blood spurts out of the wound and mingles with the puddle on the floor. Fin looks to the comm orb. “Campion!”

“Rasheed Fin, send an IFC distress call,” says Salvo. The bots drill into him as well, trying to take the Artificial apart. His bland face shows no sign of distress.

Fin sweats and hyperventilates from the pain. He sends an all-points call from his IFC.

A sturdier bot than any of the others wheels into the room and swings an arm, smashing Fin in the chest, taking his breath away. Is he going to die in this place, cut up like the others?

A drill excavates Salvo’s side. He does not show pain or confusion.

“This is not right,” Salvo repeats.

The bot at Fin’s foot starts sawing at the level of the ankle joint. Fin strains against his bonds but the bots hold fast.

“Campion, fuck you, get over here! We’re dying!”

The comms orb stays in place, impassive.

Fin sends an IFC distress call again, then he takes a gamble. Fuck this, we’re going to die anyway. He sends a remote signal to his supply pack and detonates a fraction of the ordnance. He is too far away to know if it works.

Shell

Shell feels the explosion and shudders. She darts out of her sleeping bag and runs into a cloud of debris in the microgravity.

“Ragtime, what just happened?”

“Repeat command.”

“Was there an explosion?”

No answer.

Messages pop up on her IFC and she swims through the cloud, aiming aft, for Node M. They’ve been trying to reach her.

“Rasheed Fin, come back,” says Shell, propelling herself with grab rails.

No response. What’s going on?

“Salvo, Salvo, come in,” says Shell.

“Captain,” says Salvo.

“I’m on my way. What’s your status?”

“The bots are taking us apart. Fin is unconscious, bleeding and about to lose a limb.”

“Understood,” says Shell. She can’t move any faster. “Ragtime, Ragtime.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Reboot all bots now!” Please do it.

“Rebooting.”

Fin

Salvo finishes the suturing on Fin’s leg. It’s numb and Fin feels only the tugging, but no pain. He’s also got an IV line dripping synthetic blood into his veins. Almost finished. He’s not even dizzy any more.

Campion seems confused. Her hands are smeared with blood from taking the inert bots off Salvo and Fin. The constructs lie in a mess on the floor. Campion stands at the edge of one of the pools of blood. She’s in loose trousers and a white tee shirt with the MaxGalactix logo over her left chest. She has not packed her hair back, so it seems informal compared to before. There is no guilt in her body language, but Fin doesn’t rule anything out.