BooksBarbecue
Back Gridlinked
Chapters (36)
  1. Title Page
  2. Acknowledgements
  3. Prologue
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. Epilogue
  34. From Neal Asher
  35. Praise
  36. Copyright Page

‘This station is still revolving,’ he informed her.

She tried to understand what he was getting at. The woman, standing nervously behind him, was holding a nerve-blocker. Why the hell didn’t she use it?

The man went on. ‘Listen carefully. You will die without proper medical attention. Out here on the edge we’re at about a quarter of a G. I got you into here using a cable winder. I cannot get you further into the station by myself, and I do not have the equipment set-up to do so. It would take too long.’

Jarvellis let her head drop back. So that was it. Out here, for them, she was an impossible weight to move. They were probably having enough trouble keeping themselves upright. Habit took over then: the habit of survival. She licked dry lips and spoke with a cracked voice.

‘My leg.’

The man said, ‘I’ll have Sam place a clamp, but that’s all we can do for now.’

‘Hell,’ said Jarvellis, and looked up at the wall behind her. Cable snaked up from the back of her suit to a winder that had been hastily welded to the wall. With her right arm she reached up and gripped the cable. She did not look down in response to the sudden pain in her thigh as the little robot called Sam placed the clamp. Inch by agonizing inch, she hauled herself back until her lower legs were free of the suit. Her right leg was no problem; her left leg was dead weight. When it came free she yelled, but just kept going. The Outlinkers moved back. An accidental blow from her—if she stumbled, anything—would snap their bones like sugar sticks. Finally she slid sideways from the suit. Actually standing was out of the question. The man moved further back and pressed a button by the inner door. The door irised open with a cacophonous shriek. This place was old.

‘There’s an elevator fifty metres round from here. We’ll walk just ahead of you. I’ll not ask you if you can make it, because you have no other options.’

Jarvellis felt that she did have another option, but she began painfully dragging herself across the floor on her side. The little robot zipped around in a U beside her and behind her, as if enjoying this one chance of experiencing its true calling as a sheepdog.

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