She looked around for another possible way into Manifold’s center of operations, and her eyes fell on a revolving swing ride. The platform was elevated several feet off the ground, and up above, the rusted swings hung there, posing no obvious threat. As she moved closer, she saw another trap door, this one larger than the one in the bumper car track, set directly in the ground below the ride deck like a cellar door. It was certainly worth checking.
She took one last look at the ride, trying to spot any sign of danger. Seeing none, she dropped down on all fours and crawled underneath it. Sufficient moonlight glowed through the opening between the central column that supported the ride and the deck that she could see without having to resort to her flashlight. She tried the handle and pulled, but the door did not budge. She gave it another heave, but still no luck. This had to be it! Why else would it be secured? She’d have to blow the door.
Just as she reached that decision, a loud, grinding noise broke the quiet. All around the perimeter of the ride, stainless steel bars six inches apart rose up out of the ground, ringing the deck and imprisoning her in the ride. No matter, she could still climb out through the center, drop a grenade and run. Once the door was blown, she’d climb back in the same way. The thought had just crossed her mind when the center column started to turn. It went slowly at first, picking up speed until it was spinning faster than should have been possible for a swing ride. A sick feeling rose in the pit of her stomach. She supposed she’d better see what was up. She crept over to the column, climbed up the safety wall that ran around the inside of the deck, and peered over the edge.
The swings were bobbing up and down, and from the bottom of each, two razor sharp blades, one on either side, swung back and forth.
“It’s dramatic, I know.” The voice was back. “But I think you’ll find our defenses effective.” All around the deck, spikes intermittently shot up and sank back down. “You don’t need to die here, like this. No soldier of your…skill…deserves a death like this. Give yourself up and live to fight another day.”
Queen scowled. “Go fuck yourself.” She’d stick to her plan of blowing the door and seeing what lay behind it.
The man speaking to her sighed and then, as if reading her mind, the door slowly sank out of sight. Queen didn’t need to see the oborots to know they were coming—she could hear them. She sprang up onto the edge of the safety rail, balanced there, and looked down at the deck, trying to spot a pattern in the spikes. Seeing a safe spot, she jumped down, drew her pistol, and began picking her way across the deck. She only made it a few steps before the first oborot appeared. The creature perched on the edge of the rail, sniffed the air, and before it could spring, Queen put a bullet in its forehead. The beast fell backward. She hoped it had fallen on the others in its pack, but two more appeared almost instantly. The first one hurled itself at her. Queen got off one shot and deftly sidestepped, dancing around a spike that shot up between her legs. The oborot landed hard on all fours, turned…
…and was impaled by a spike that shot up through its abdomen, splitting its spine. Its cries of pain were ear rending, but Queen didn’t have the time or bullets to expend on a mercy killing, because the third oborot was now after her, and she spied a fourth rounding the deck from the opposite side.
Her first shot caught the closest of the beasts in the shoulder, but it didn’t slow its charge. Queen sprang onto the body of the fallen oborot, careful to avoid the hole where the spike would soon be reappearing, and jumped again toward the center of the ride. Perhaps she could get back down to the door, though if it led to the oborots’ holding pen, she’d be even worse off than she was now.
The oborot tore after her. Another spike shot up, grazing its hairy calf. The thing scarcely noticed the wound, but it slowed down just enough for Queen to take it down with a head shot.
She clambered back over the interior rail, but before she could drop down to the ground, she spotted more oborots coming through the door.
Road closed. This is getting me a whole lot of nowhere fast.
She holstered her Mark 23 and jumped up, grabbing hold of a bar on the central column. It was difficult to maintain her grip as the ride spun, but she held on and painstakingly hauled herself up. The oborots quickly came after her. One clawed at her foot and she kicked it away, then stamped down on its head, causing it to lose its grip.
Queen clambered up onto the top of the ride. Bars holding the chairs extended out from the center column like rays of sunlight. Balancing precariously, she clambered out toward the edge of the ride. The farther she moved from the center, the faster the ride spun.