Planet X - Michael Jan Friedman [84]
She raised her weapon to fire back at him, but Riker wasn’t about to stand there and provide an easy target for her. Dropping and rolling, he squeezed off another blast. It caught his adversary in the midsection, doubling her over this time and taking her out of the fray. Apparently, her shielding could only take so much.
But there was one more around, the first officer told himself. A powerfu-looking Xhaldian in some kind of natural body armor. Some sixth sense told him to turn around. Whirling, Riker saw Rahatan’s last remaining lackey charging at him.
The first officer sidestepped the charge successfully—but in the process, his foot caught on a piece of upturned pavement, causing him to stumble and fall unceremoniously. Even worse, he lost his grip on his phaser. As he watched, it clattered away and fell into a crack in the pavement.
Seeing how vulnerable he was, the strongman dove in an attempt to pin him, but Riker threw himself out of the way and scrambled to his feet.
Unfortunately, he was nowhere near where his phaser had fallen. And without it, he was clearly overmatched.
Or was he?
As the Xhaldian in the body armor got up and charged him a second time, the first officer bent and picked up a rock. Then, before the transformed could veer off, Riker reared back and let it fly—striking his adversary square in the forehead.
At first, he thought it might not have been enough. Then the transformed’s knees buckled and he fell forward on his face.
The first officer had no time to congratulate himself, however. On the other side of the ruined street, Storm was still facing off with the earthmover.
By that time, the Xhaldian had to know how badly he had underestimated his opponent. Still, it didn’t seem to daunt him a great deal. With a battle oath worthy of a Klingon, Rahatan tossed his head back and raised his hands, which had clenched into white-knuckled fists.
Unbelievably, the ground beneath him began to rise and roll forward, in the manner of a mammoth wave breaking on a seashore. Except the wave had a target, and that target was Storm.
The Xhaldian rode forward on the wave’s unchanging crest, legs spread wide for balance, fists clenched at his sides. He had a look of almost maniacal glee on his face.
But Storm didn’t move. She simply floated on her updraft above the mighty crevasse, as if she had already resigned herself to her fate. And all the while, Rahatan’s wave of earth and debris rolled closer, threatening to bury her under its weight.
Finally, just as her adversary was about to descend on her, the mutant raised a hand to the heavens. As Riker watched, a hail shower seemed to come out of nowhere, pelting the Xhaldian with tiny balls of ice.
Rahatan threw his hands up to protect himself from Storm’s onslaught. At first, it looked as if he might be able to stay on his feet and endure it. Then the rain of icy pellets grew heavier and heavier, until the barrage drove the earthmover to his knees.
But Rahatan wasn’t done yet. Though battered and bruised, he still possessed the strength to try one last gambit.
The crest of his earth wave, with him on it, seemed to topple backwards for a moment. Then, like a catapult, it shot forward—flinging the Xhaldian across the gulf between Storm and himself.
And why not? He was bigger than she was, and more powerful. If he could get his hands around her throat, it wouldn’t matter that she was a mutant. He would throttle her in no time.
But once again, Storm proved more than equal to the challenge. Before Rahatan could reach her, he was caught in a swirling twist of wind. It wrenched him skyward, spinning him around as he ascended, until he was a hundred meters or more above the ground.
The earthmover screamed for help, but he didn’t get any. His compatriots were all unconscious. So Rahatan kept spinning around, faster and faster, until at last he stopped screaming and went limp in the twister’s grasp.
Only then did Storm relent. Gradually, with