I staggered and limp-ran across the hangar bay toward the stupid gravity tube. (I know I said I didn’t want to use it but I didn’t have time to do the stairs and compared to what was behind me it was starting to look friendly. Also, with the feed dead it couldn’t be remotely shut down.) I heard steps behind me and flung myself in.

I twisted around as the gravity shaft pushed me up. I saw TargetContact less than ten meters behind me. I had to get out before it got to the tube. Two levels went by with me trying to get off the fucking thing without the feed, then I flailed into the unmarked stop zone. It spit me out at the next level and I tumbled into a shadowy corridor and fell on the floor again.

Ouch. I was beginning to lose control over my pain sensors, a sign of an impending system failure. And I think I’d been too late, I think TargetContact saw I’d gotten off on this level. I was terrified of an involutary shutdown; when I restarted I’d be targetControlSystem.

I was higher up in the structure, and had no idea how to get away. It didn’t matter, I had to keep moving. I got up and limp-ran.

The corridor curved to circle around the hangar bay’s shaft and was way too long. It was cleaner and had more lights, obviously used more recently, and there had to be a lift pod or stairs somewhere.

Then I picked up a brief contact. Like a ping. A familiar ping. Drones, there were drones down here. Not targetDrones, my kind of drones. I sent frantic pings back, because it wasn’t like TargetContact didn’t know exactly where I was, I could hear it behind me in the corridor.

Ahead I saw more light and a foyer for a stairwell. I lurched into the foyer just as an armored SecUnit dropped down onto the landing.

I almost triggered both my energy weapons but just in time I saw the sticker on its helmet. In compressed machine language, somebody had used marker paint to write “ART sent me.” This was 2.0’s SecUnit 3.

The opaque helmet focused on me. It said, “I’ve never retrieved another SecUnit before. There is no protocol for this.”

Seriously, fuck protocol. I said, “Hostile incoming. It’s contaminated. Do not scan and don’t let it touch you.” If the contamination worked the way I thought it did I shouldn’t be able to pass it to another SecUnit but who the hell knew. “Don’t scan or connect with me, either, I might be a carrier.”

SecUnit 3 started to say, “Transport Perihelion was able to obtain that intel from retrieved—” Then it leapt and landed past me, pulled the weapon off its back just as TargetContact rounded the corridor. It fired a burst of explosive bolts and TargetContact reeled back, but the impacts didn’t dent the protective alien remnant coating.

“It doesn’t work,” I started to yell, but 3 aimed the next burst at the corridor ceiling. The impacts cracked the lighting track and shattered the material holding it in place. As chunks of stone hit the floor, 3 leapt back to me and grabbed me around the waist.