The Obin Sagan had encountered in the science building largely avoided her, leading her to believe they were mostly specialized as scientists, but every now and again one of them would try to engage her with a weapon or try attacking her physically. The quarters were too close to wield the awkward Obin rifle with any sort of accuracy; Sagan stuck with the knife and being quick. This approach failed her when the Obin babysitting Zo? nearly took off her head; Sagan threw the knife at the Obin to distract it and then launched herself at it, fighting it out hand to hand. Sagan knew she was lucky that while they were rolling on the floor the Obin got a leg caught up in the furniture; it gave her just enough time to squirm out of its grip, get on top of it and strangle the thing to death. With Zo? collected and held in the crook of her arm, it was time to get out.
::Harvey,:: Sagan said.
::Kind of busy right now,:: Harvey said. Through her integration Sagan could see him fighting his way toward a new hovercraft; he crashed his previous one into an airship that was trying to get off the ground and kill him from above.
::I’ve got the target and I need support. And a ride.::
::Five minutes and you’ll have both,:: Harvey said. ::Just don’t rush me.::
::I’m rushing you,:: Sagan said, and then stopped the conversation. The hallway in front of Boutin’s apartment led north, past Boutin’s lab, and east, into other parts of the building. The lab hallway would connect her quicker to where Harvey could pick them up, but Sagan didn’t want to risk Zo? seeing either her father or Jared as they went by. Sagan sighed, went back into the apartment, and retrieved the Obin weapon, felt it balance awkwardly in her grip. It was a two-handed weapon, and the hands were meant to be Obin, not human. Sagan hoped that everyone had abandoned the building or would be busy going after Harvey, and that she wouldn’t have to use it.
She had to use it three times, the third time using it to batter an Obin when the ammunition ran out. The Obin screamed. So did Zo?, each time Sagan had to use the weapon. But she kept her eyes shut, like she promised.
Sagan reached the place where she came into the building, a blown-out window on the first floor of a stairwell. ::Where are you?:: she said to Harvey.
::Believe it or not, the Obin aren’t keen to give me their equipment,:: Harvey sent. ::Stop bugging me. I’ll be there soon.::
“Are we safe yet?” Zo? asked, her voice muffled from her head being buried in Sagan’s neck.
“Not yet,” Sagan said. “Soon, Zo?.”
“I want my daddy,” Zo? said.
“I know, Zo?,” Sagan said. “Shhh.”
From the floors above Sagan heard movement.
Come on, Harvey, Sagan thought. Get moving.
The Obin were really beginning to piss Harvey off. Mowing down a couple dozen of them in the mess hall had been a uniquely satisfying experience, to be sure—cathartic, particularly in light of how the Obin bastards killed off most of the 2nd Platoon. And ramming the little hovercraft into that airship had held its own special pleasures. But once Harvey was on foot, he began to realize just how many of those damn Obin there were, and how much more difficult it was to manage them when one was hoofing it. And then here was Sagan—integrated again, and that was a good thing—but telling him she needed a ride. As if he weren’t busy.
She’s the boss, Harvey said. Getting one of the parked hovercraft was proving to be difficult; the Obin had them in a yard with only one way in. But there were at least two of them out and around, looking for him.
And look, Harvey said, as one zoomed into view, here comes one now. Harvey had been crouched down and trying to be inconspicuous, but now he stepped out where he could be seen and waved his hands broadly. “Hey!” Harvey yelled. “Asshole! Come get me, you creepy fuck!”
Whether by hearing him or seeing him move, the Obin operating the hovercraft turned toward Harvey. Okay, Harvey thought. Now what the fuck do I do?
The first order of business, it turned out, was jumping clear of the stream of fléchettes that blasted out of the hovercraft’s gun. Harvey rolled, came out of the roll prone and lined up his Obin weapon to shoot at the now-receding Obin. Harvey’s first shot wasn’t even close; the second took off the back of the Obin’s head.
That’s why you wear a helmet, jackass, Harvey thought, and went to retrieve his prize and then retrieve Sagan. Along the way a number of Obin on foot tried to do to Harvey what he had done to the Obin previously driving the hovercraft. Harvey preferred to run them down rather than shoot them, but he wasn’t picky.