At about the sa ti, Jared did slow down, the purple glow still surrounding him. As he dropped backward, the undamaged rocket on his back beca louder leaving a wider trail of fla and exhaust.
On a gut level, I didn’t think that a rocket of that size should be able to do keep him moving forward even as fast as he was going—which was still faster than the rest of them. The Abominator artifact had to be behind it. If it was made to fight the Cosmic Ghosts, it had to be slightly out of phase with reality and judging from its speed, it was manipulating ti to a limited degree as well.
I let myself slow down to match his speed, deciding I had to take him out rather than destroy the other rocket and leave him for the people on the ground. Tara might co up with a way to hit him, but I had no idea how.
Slowing down ant that I drifted a little lower, but so had he. He wasn’t going down easy either. Instead of shying away, he aid toward , stabbing again with the long knife.
It didn’t make a lot of sense unless he thought he might have done sothing wrong. Whatever his reasoning, it didn’t work any better the second ti. I’d kept the power flowing through as I neared him and it did what it needed to do—pulled the knife into phase with the the reality we were in, forcing it to hit my armor instead of slide through it.
As I did it, I felt the power flowing through and knew that I felt more tired than I had before I started using it. I wasn’t going to be able to do this forever.
It wasn’t a physical soreness, more the beginning of an all over lethargy, the kind I felt after a ten mile run.
I needed to take him out of the fight now and not later. If the artifact’s power source lasted longer than I did, he’d have no problem running through.
He wasn’t stupid. When it failed to go through the second ti, he began to pull away. I didn’t let him. In the sumr, I’d learned that while I wasn’t physically any faster than a normal person, I absorbed information much faster. I’d spent a lot of ti practicing with Jaclyn and Cassie when we got back, trying to make the ntal speed physically useful.
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The best we could co up with was for to move as fast as I could after making a decision. Here, it worked. As he began to pull the knife back, I reached out with my left hand, grabbing his right forearm.
He tried to pull away, but my grip didn’t break, hinting that my suspicion that I had a stronger suit might be correct. The question was what to do next. Even if I wanted to kill him, my killbots wouldn’t help. Like my sister’s ability to turn intangible, what I’d learned to do didn’t extend much past my own body. I wasn’t going to be extending it to a bot any ti soon.
On the other hand, those limits ant that I also wasn’t likely to summon Lee’s enemies to destroy our planet.
Knowing that, I pulled him toward with my left hand, rolled under him in the air and began striking at the right arm’s shoulder joint. If his suit were based as closely on my grandfather’s early suits as I suspected, crucial elents of the artificial muscles would be there along with cables that transmitted commands to the gun as well as the suit and the rocket pack.
I didn’t stop with one either. I started with one and hit two more tis before he punched back, hitting the upper part of my chest near my neck and helt. It wasn’t a bad area to target in the WW2 version of the Rocket suit. A lot of control systems went through the neck and down through the front of the chest.
My suit’s self-repairing blocks with nanotech elents had left cables behind a couple of generations ago. That wasn’t to say he didn’t hit hard. My HUD reported a small degree of damage and began to repair it. My next punch caused his right arm to freeze.
It didn’t freeze to the point of becoming completely unmoving, but he dropped the knife and the forearm bent inward until it t the bicep. He tried to move the arm but couldn’t. He even stopped trying to punch with his left arm.
Knowing what I’d done to the right arm, I punched him in his left shoulder. That got a reaction. With the purple field around his armor fluctuating with every hit I made, he tried to pull away, thrashing with his left arm, kicking with his legs, but not doing any real damage.
Not having a better idea, I kept on pounding until sothing cracked inside his shoulder.
He stopped trying to hit and the left arm straightened, flopping in the air, hitting the side of Jared’s suit. It wasn’t controlled at all, reminding of a flag flapping in the wind.
I let go. It wasn’t as if he could do anything except use the backup controller in the mouthguard to land.
Showing no sign he had any control of his suit, Jared dipped downward into a group of evergreens, crashing into them and disappearing from sight.
Maybe his suit didn’t have a backup controller in the mouthguard.
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