"I remember, even that late in the day, the mornings' driving rains had been enough to keep the
chalky embankment very damp. So it resisted throwing up grey motes of dust as I moved across it,
helping to conceal my position. I pressed closer to ground, letting the cool, IR masking moisture
seep into my clothing. The recoilless slung over my shoulder moaned. A breeze had picked up
from the east, sending eddies of sea air down the mirrored barrel of the kinetic rifle. I had only
three k-rounds left...and a couple of squelchers, which would be a last-ditched move should things
go pharphuckt and my kinetic
initiative degraded to an ugly, chucking-concussives-on-my-heels retreat.
Three rounds of QM-scoffing canned light between me and Oblivion.  Great.
Almost to the second that the cupola of the first machine came into view and the shooting started,
I was thinking, ‘I should really go back to drawing comics.’"

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