said behind her.
Her stomach tensing, Sonya whirled and saw the cyborg and a cluster of Outworlders surge into the doorway.
“Major Jackson Briggs and Sonya Blade,” it said, its hellfire eyes glowing. “Shao Kahn will be pleased.”
“What the hell is that ?” Jax blurted.
“I am an LK-4D4 Cyber-ninja prototype,” the robotic stalker said. “Codename Cyrax.”
Sonya was sure she wasn’t imagining its boastful tone, and for a moment wondered if that arrogance had been deliberately programmed into it. She took a deep breath, willing away her fear. She had noticed a glass supply cabinet over to her right. Noticed a chain inside the cabinet. It wouldn’t be much of a weapon against the inhuman horror in the doorway – but it beat what she was holding right now – nothing.
In one fluid motion, she backspringed over to the cabinet and smashed the glass panel with a precise snapping kick. Then she snatched the chain off a shelf, wrapped one end around her forearm, and assumed a catlike defensive stance.
The Outworlders converged around her in a closing circle. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Cyrax advancing toward Jax, knocking over the furniture and electronic equipment between them with easy sweeps of its arms.
His eyes wide as saucers, Jax watched it tear a heavy steel counter off the bolts fastening it to the floor, then hurl it aside as though it were weightless.
“Excuse me for askin’, bro,” he said, “but do I take it this ain’t something we can talk about?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jax got out of the way barely in the nick of time.
His question had no sooner left his mouth than Cyrax leaped at him with a flawless two-footed kick that sent him flipping over the operating table in retreat, astonished by the cyborg’s speed and agility. Springing to his feet, Jax backed against the wall, shot a glance over each shoulder, and decided there was no room to run – not fast enough anyway.
Meaning he’d have to take the direct approach.
Jax lunged at his attacker, but was knocked out of the air by a rapid-fire sequence of martial arts moves as Cyrax landed an axe kick, a front kick, and a palm strike to his chest. The cyborg followed with more punches and kicks, scoring repeated hits to Jax’s body and face. Jax tried to counterstrike, but his blows were ineffective, his unfamiliarity with the arm enhancers throwing off his aim and timing. A windmilling mallet blow intended for Cyrax’s shoulder went wild, crunching the operating table in half with a sound like a car wreck. His next punch also strayed dangerously from its target, ramming a hole in the wall... and worse than that, getting his hand stuck inside the hole.
As he struggled extricate himself, Sonya was making good use of her close-quarters fight training at the other end of the lab, using athletic backspring kicks and split kicks to cut through the small group of Outworld warriors. Out of the corner of her right eye she saw Jax trying to pry his fist free of the wall, saw Cyrax raise his hand for a slicing, palm-edge blow to Jax’s throat, and without concern for herself flipped between them to block the attack.
Cyrax’s response to her intervention was lightning-quick. Ejected from a concealed wrist-pod, the cyborg’s energy net fired through the air and unfurled over her head, but she eluded his trap by jumping up and grabbing hold of an exposed ceiling pipe, then swinging like a pendulum to deliver a smashing kick to the top of Cyrax’s head. Driven by her own momentum, Sonya leaped onto a lab counter, then jumped off and skillfully executed a handstand onto Cyrax’s shoulders. That move flowing seamlessly into a midair turn, she swung downward, and executed a front kick into the cyborg’s back that sent him flying across the room.
“Get rid of those stupid toys, Jax!” she shouted, landing beside him. The taste of adrenaline was like an aluminum strip across the back of her tongue. “You’re gonna get us
David G. Hartwell, Jacob Weisman