Pantheon - Michael Jan Friedman [16]
He was less than twenty meters from the brig when he realized that something was wrong. It was too quiet, the captain told himself. He couldn’t even hear the buzz of Agnarsson’s force field.
Drawing his laser pistol from its place in his belt, Tarasco held it before him and advanced more warily. After a few seconds, Pelletier’s muscular body came into view. The security chief was sprawled across the floor, his neck bent at an impossible angle, a trickle of dark blood running from the corner of his open mouth.
The captain swore under his breath.
His teeth grinding with grief and anger, he paused to kneel at Pelletier’s side and feel his neck for a pulse. There wasn’t any. And the man’s weapon was fully charged, meaning he hadn’t even gotten a chance to fire it before Agnarsson got to him.
Tarasco got up and went on, sweat streaming down both sides of his face, his heart banging against his ribs so hard he thought they would break. At any moment, he thought, Agnarsson might reach out with his mind and strangle him to death.
But it didn’t happen. The captain reached the brig unscathed.
It didn’t take an expert to see that its force field had been deactivated or disabled. The room itself was empty. And the two security officers who had been helping to guard Agnarsson were laid out on the deck, their necks broken as badly as Pelletier’s had been.
Tarasco cursed angrily under his breath and scanned the corridor in both directions. The monster was loose. He could be anywhere, preying on anyone at all. There was no time to waste.
Pressing the intercom pad next to the brig, the captain gained access to every member of his crew in every section of the ship. “Agnarsson has escaped the brig,” he said, doing his best to keep his panic in check. “He’s already killed three security officers. He is extremely dangerous and to be avoided at all costs. Repeat—”
You’re next, Tarasco. The words echoed ominously in his brain, obliterating the possibility of any other thought. Tarasco scanned the corridor in either direction, but there was no one there. After all, what do I need with a captain? Or a crew, for that matter?
Tarasco swallowed back his fear. Where are you? he asked the engineer in the confines of his mind.
Not so far away, came the coy, almost childlike answer. And getting closer all the time.
Five
At the sound of his adversary’s thought, the captain could feel a wetness between his shoulder blades. Following his instincts, he whirled—but the corridor was still empty behind him.
Then he spun the other way…
And there was Agnarsson, his eyes ablaze with silver light, a cruel smile on his otherwise expressionless face. He had always been a big man, but he seemed even bigger now, more imposing.
You can’t kill me, the engineer insisted, his voice expanding to fill the hallway. Much as you want to, you can’t. But I can kill you.
And he lifted his hand to carry out his threat.
However, Tarasco struck first. His pale blue laser beam slammed squarely into Agnarsson’s chest, forcing him back a couple of steps. The engineer’s smile became a grimace as he pitted his mysterious power against the laser’s electromagnetic fury.
At first, he merely stood his ground. Then little by little, with the beam’s brilliance spattering against him, he did even better than that. He began to make his way forward again.
You can’t stop me, Agnarsson told him, his voice echoing like thunder. Nothing can stop me. And he hurled a crackling bolt of livid pink energy at the captain.
Tarasco didn’t have time to duck the discharge or get out of the way. All he could do was try to go limp as the engineer’s power hammered him into the bulkhead behind him.
The next thing the captain knew, he was sitting with his back against the bulkhead, feeling as if he had broken every bone in his body. There was blood in his mouth and a wetness in the back of his head that could only have been more blood.
And it hurt like the devil to draw a breath. More than likely, he had cracked