“I … didn’t … think … humans … communicated … through … assault,” Anderson said, as Rachel-7 continued ineffectually pummeling him. “It seems inefficient.”
His sarcasm wasn’t getting through. She was all terror and stubborn-survival instinct.
“Hello?” Anderson said. Hoping to spare the human more pain, he moved his arms to cover his sharper protrusions.
She didn’t notice, apparently determined to damage his central sensory node.
“Is … the … translator … working?” he said.
Rachel-7 kept up the attack. She’d lose balance or slip in her own blood, and then pick herself back up and launch herself at him again.
“Testing … testing … testing,” Anderson said.
She heard something. Part of her could distinguish words, but the terror-gripped part of her refused to stop.
“You … know … some … people … would … be … offended … by … this.”
Rachel-7’s attack slowed until she was meekly slapping the creature’s rock-hard skin.
“You … can … stop … any … time.”
The words finally breached her fear, and she felt rationality take over.
The creature’s name was Ander-something, and it wasn’t trying to eat her.
And, now that she looked at it, she could see that the “maw” was even capable of movement.
It’s like a very sharp geode, she thought, relieved.
Then, as quickly as it had gone, her panic returned. She had attacked something much larger than her, a creature that exuded death and destruction.
As she watched, it pulled back its left arm. Judging from the Ander-whatever’s size, she guessed the impact would hit her like a falling boulder.
The medicloud will have a difficult time rebuilding me if all that's left is powder, Rachel-7 thought.