In the middle of all this confusion, I caught sight of Sebastian: still on his feet, but with three Keepers clutching him, one with its hands on the boy's head. It was trying to snap his neck… to give a sharp twist that would crack the cervical vertebrae or even rip the head clean off. Sebastian was fighting back, and perhaps a small number of nanites were helping him — resisting the pressure that torqued on his skull — but thus far, there was no overt sign of nano coming to the boy's aid. Millimeter by millimeter, Sebastian's head was turning too far; and even as I watched, one of the other Keepers sprouted a long bony claw and reached out toward the boy's exposed jugular.
A mass of black fury hurtled into the fray. For an instant, I thought it might be a chunk of the good Lucifer, ‹BINK›ed in from the moon. Then I saw it was…
Impervia.
Blood smeared her hands and the front of her clothes. I thought I could see a bullet hole pierced through her shirt high on the chest; but she was moving too fast for me to be sure.
She slammed a foot hard into the knees of the Keeper who was trying to break Sebastian's spine. Her heel drove straight through the Lucifer's legs, spraying cellules in all directions: instant amputation at the knees. The Keeper, no longer braced and supported, couldn't maintain the pressure on Sebastian's neck… and a moment later, the creature had to worry about its own head, as Impervia's elbow smashed into its temple.
The Lucifer's skull burst like a melon struck with a ball-peen hammer. Gunpowder grains flew in a black shower, splashing hard into the faces of the other two Keepers holding Sebastian. Considering that neither had eyes, they couldn't have been blinded by the sandy facefuls… but they were distracted long enough for Impervia to sweep one of the attackers off its feet and to hit the other with a palm-heel that dislocated its shoulder. Literally. The arm ripped off the torso and slumped limply, its fingers still gripping Sebastian's jacket.
I don't suppose any of Impervia's blows caused the Lucifers true pain. When you're a galaxy-spanning intelligence, a little wear and tear on your component parts can't hurt very much. But Impervia was striking hard enough to disrupt the intercellule cohesion that kept limbs attached and bodies in one piece. In other words, she was destroying the Lucifers' effectiveness. A detached arm has no leverage; a legless torso has no balance or mobility. The pieces were still dangerous — lethally so if you gave them time to sprout sharp extensions or garroting tendrils — but Impervia was systematically eliminating their capacity to fight in human form, and they obviously needed a few seconds to reshape for other modes of combat. One of the legs Impervia had kicked off was starting to shove up spikes along its surface, and the other was stretching out into something like a spear. In half a minute, both might be serious threats… but I doubted they'd have nearly that long to do what they wanted to do.
A wind had picked up in the cavern: a brisk breeze pouring through the tunnel mouth, whipping at loose clothes even as we all struggled to gain the upper hand. Impervia was still on her feet, punching and kicking; Sebastian stood now with a family-built saber in his grip, slashing at the hands that tried to grab him; Annah rolled silently on the ground, wrestling at least two opponents; and on the ground beside her, I lashed at every Lucifer within reach, punching, tripping, anything to keep them busy… while all around us the wind increased, stiffening into a gale that whistled past our ears.
I tried to inhale and the air was as gritty as smoke. It rasped in my mouth and nose, leaving a bitter taste like the crushed shells of insects. Some other place and time, I might have spat it out in disgust… but not now. Now, it filled me with vengeful joy — the nanotech cavalry was charging to our rescue, thickening the air like dust.
Despite Impervia's best efforts, there was still a Lucifer clutching Sebastian. It grappled with the boy, trying to wrest the saber from his hand — twisting the blade around in an attempt to force the weapon's cutting edge against anything that would bleed: Sebastian's arms, his legs, his throat, whatever target was vulnerable. For a moment the Lucifer loomed over the boy, a head taller, physically imposing… then the alien was nothing but an exploding sandstorm, a bursting flurry of black that blew apart so fast it shredded the robes containing it. The Lucifer detonated into a smeary ash-cloud, splashing out toward the walls of the cavern.
An instant later, the other Lucifers disintegrated in exactly the same way. Black grains flew past my face and robes ripped to tatters in front of me… but every ruptured particle missed me by a hair's breadth, as if a bacteria-thin barrier had sprung up to shield me from the blast.
Thank you, nanites. Thank you, Sebastian.
No sooner had the enemy been dispersed into individual cellules than they began to be gathered again: piece by piece, grain by grain, the cellules were lifted off the ground and swept toward the center of the laser cage — like errant goats being herded back into a pen. I could picture teams of nanotech goatherds entrapping each fragment, levitating it, fetching each cellule back to its designated prison.
Annah laid her hand on my arm. "Time for us to move."
We were still in the cage ourselves, both of us on the floor; as we got to our feet, Impervia joined us. Sweat beaded her face, but she looked happy — not in her usual grudging way, but with a genuine smile. "I'm not quite sure what's happening," she said, "but I think we won."
"Sebastian won," I told her. "But you helped hold out till he got reinforcements."
"Good enough. Where's the Caryatid?"
Annah was the one to answer. "The Caryatid is dead… but she died well. If there is such a thing as dying well." She paused. "We thought you were dead too."
"Don't be ridiculous," Impervia said, her face shifting from that rare smile into a more typical look of disapproval. "I admit I got shot, but it was just a graze. I blacked out briefly, but I'm perfectly fine now."
I looked at the shirt of her habit. "Perfectly fine, are you?" Now that she wasn't a blur of motion, I could see there was a bullet hole straight through the cloth. I pointed it out to her. "What do you think caused that? Moths?"
She dropped her head to look at the hole. In surprise, she pulled out her collar and looked down inside her shirt. "There's a wound," she said slowly, "but it's completely healed. Nothing but a scar. Bullet-sized." She lifted her eyes in wonderment… then sudden disgust crossed her face. "It's not a miracle. It must be Sebastian's work."
I thought about that. When Impervia got shot, a geyser of blood had come fountaining out of her; then it stopped abruptly, as if cut off. I'd thought the stoppage was due to her heart giving out… but Sebastian had still been awake at the time, in full command of his powers. He'd also just realized this was the real Impervia, a flesh-and-blood woman who bled when she cut her arm.
Sebastian must have told his nanite friends, "Heal her." Immediately nano-surgeons flocked in to seal her wounds, repair the damage, set things right — and while she lay there healing, she'd looked so much like a corpse that neither I nor the Lucifer had bothered to check whether she was really dead.
I turned toward Sebastian to ask if that's how it happened; but the boy was englobed in a dim golden shell, an egg-shaped container of light that pulsed like a heartbeat. Inside the shell his eyes were closed with a look of deep concentration. I could imagine him giving telepathic commands to the nanotech world… or perhaps just communing with some nano overmind, not handing out orders but amiably discussing what should happen next.