Грань будущего

           Can’tusetoomuchstrength,Ihadtoremindmyself. Overdoit,andmyaimwoulddriftlow. 

           NotimetochecktheDoppler. Timetofireandforget. 

           Thakthakthakthakthak! 

           Acloudofdustrose. 

           Theenemy’sroundsseemedtoridethewindovermyhead,butminelikedtoveeroffafterleavingthebarrel,asiftheenemysimplywilledthemaway. Ourdrillsergeantsaidgunscouldbefunnylikethat. Youaskme,itseemsonlyfairthattheenemyshouldgettohearshellsscreechingdownonthem,too. WeshouldallhaveourturnfeelingDeath’sbreathonthebackofourneck,friendandfoealike. 

           ButwhatwouldDeath’sapproachsoundliketoaninhumanenemy? Didtheyevenfeelfear? 

           Ourenemies-theenemiesoftheUnitedDefenseForce-aremonsters. Mimics,wecallthem. 

           Mygunwasoutofbullets. 

           Thesilhouetteofamisshapenorbmaterializedintheclay-brownhaze. Itwasshorterthanaman. ItwouldprobablycomeuptotheshoulderofaJacketedsoldier. Ifamanwereathinpolestandingonend,aMimicwouldbeastoutbarrel-abarrelwithfourlimbsandatail,atanyrate. Somethinglikethebloatedcorpseofadrownedfrog,welikedtosay. Tohearthelabratstellit,theyhavemoreincommonwithstarfish,butthat’sjustdetails. 

           Theymakeforasmallertargetthanaman,sonaturallythey’rehardertohit. Despitetheirsize,theyweighmorethanwedo. Ifyoutookoneofthoseoversizedcasks,thekindAmericansusetodistillbourbon,andfilleditwithwetsandyou’dhaveitaboutright.