bare arm against the blow. The sword struck his forearm, but rather than sever the flesh, muscle and bone, the sword instead bounced off with a metallic shriek. Fitch roared in pain as his blood sprayed outward, but incredibly, the pain eased almost immediately. He stared and saw the damage was superficial. The flow of blood stopped as the muscle and skin grew back over a fine metallic mesh briefly visible in his arm.
Fleetwood's man drew his sword back for another swing. Reacting purely in selfpreservation, Fitch let fly a thunderous punch and again, a flash of metal was seen as iron studs erupted from his knuckles and smacked into his attacker's face. The man fell unconscious to the floor, his nose and cheek split wide open.
"Kill them!" screeched Fleetwood hysterically.
"Kill the demons!"
His men ran forward. Madrigal, with no conscious thought except to strike against his attackers, roared as the skin on his fingers erupted and strange rhythmic pulses of green light spewed out, leaping from his hands and into the five men rushing toward him. Each man screamed in pain as the power surged through them and they fell, burning, to the floor.
At the same time, another of Fleetwood's goons pushed Susanna back savagely and she instinctively swept out her fist in a backhand punch. As she did so, her hand speed increased exponentially as something erupted from her, something that whipped the man across the face, knocking him unconscious.
Hartwell caught a glimpse of what looked like a small, dainty cat o'nine tails retract into his sister's arm, leaving her white faced and shocked.
Fleetwood's men ran out of the room and clustered at the door as Susanna wailed in despair "I'm a monster!" and stared in horror and shock at her hand, which once more looked and felt completely normal.
Cries of "They're possessed!" and "They're demons!" sounded out from Fleetwood's crew. "Kill them and all their magic!" screamed Fleetwood in fear. "Kill them all, they are all damned!"
At that moment, another sound could be heard. It started as a series of faint vibrations like the notes played upon a tin whistle, though more regular and mechanical sounding. The noises grew, becoming more intense, the individual notes harmonizing from a discordant set to a regular rhythmic pulse, almost a tune, which undoubtedly came from the woman in the purple dress.
Mechatronic paused as her internal system's maintenance report activated and played out in her head and an astonished smile spread over her face. She reached up and dropped the hood from her face and cloak from her body, revealing her silver skin and unmuffling the sounds of her internal diagnostic system.
Fleetwood and his men slammed the door shut with yelps of terror, cries echoed by Blake, Anatole and the rest of Hartwell's new crew at the sight of the silver demon who seemed to whistle and chirrup without moving her lips. Eventually, the sounds ceased and silence fell once more.
"It's the first phase of my adaptive program," said Mechatronic. "The molecular technology that exploded outward when my craft disintegrated swarmed around me in the ocean and hence, you absorbed much of it when you jumped into the sea. The molecules have permeated you and have been building within you ever since, changing your body chemistry, improving, adapting, evolving you to new forms."
Fitch looked at Mechatronic and demanded hoarsely, "What has happened to us? What have you done? Have you cursed us, you silver demon?"
"Of course not," said Mechatronic. "It is technology, advanced technology from my world. It is upgrading you, changing you physically, but not in character or personality. Your will, as always, is your own."
"But what was that in my arm and in Fitch's skin?" asked Susanna.
"You have a molecule whip," replied Mechatronic. "Fitch is developing metallic subcutaneous armour, as well as
Fleetwood's man drew his sword back for another swing. Reacting purely in selfpreservation, Fitch let fly a thunderous punch and again, a flash of metal was seen as iron studs erupted from his knuckles and smacked into his attacker's face. The man fell unconscious to the floor, his nose and cheek split wide open.
"Kill them!" screeched Fleetwood hysterically.
"Kill the demons!"
His men ran forward. Madrigal, with no conscious thought except to strike against his attackers, roared as the skin on his fingers erupted and strange rhythmic pulses of green light spewed out, leaping from his hands and into the five men rushing toward him. Each man screamed in pain as the power surged through them and they fell, burning, to the floor.
At the same time, another of Fleetwood's goons pushed Susanna back savagely and she instinctively swept out her fist in a backhand punch. As she did so, her hand speed increased exponentially as something erupted from her, something that whipped the man across the face, knocking him unconscious.
Hartwell caught a glimpse of what looked like a small, dainty cat o'nine tails retract into his sister's arm, leaving her white faced and shocked.
Fleetwood's men ran out of the room and clustered at the door as Susanna wailed in despair "I'm a monster!" and stared in horror and shock at her hand, which once more looked and felt completely normal.
Cries of "They're possessed!" and "They're demons!" sounded out from Fleetwood's crew. "Kill them and all their magic!" screamed Fleetwood in fear. "Kill them all, they are all damned!"
At that moment, another sound could be heard. It started as a series of faint vibrations like the notes played upon a tin whistle, though more regular and mechanical sounding. The noises grew, becoming more intense, the individual notes harmonizing from a discordant set to a regular rhythmic pulse, almost a tune, which undoubtedly came from the woman in the purple dress.
Mechatronic paused as her internal system's maintenance report activated and played out in her head and an astonished smile spread over her face. She reached up and dropped the hood from her face and cloak from her body, revealing her silver skin and unmuffling the sounds of her internal diagnostic system.
Fleetwood and his men slammed the door shut with yelps of terror, cries echoed by Blake, Anatole and the rest of Hartwell's new crew at the sight of the silver demon who seemed to whistle and chirrup without moving her lips. Eventually, the sounds ceased and silence fell once more.
"It's the first phase of my adaptive program," said Mechatronic. "The molecular technology that exploded outward when my craft disintegrated swarmed around me in the ocean and hence, you absorbed much of it when you jumped into the sea. The molecules have permeated you and have been building within you ever since, changing your body chemistry, improving, adapting, evolving you to new forms."
Fitch looked at Mechatronic and demanded hoarsely, "What has happened to us? What have you done? Have you cursed us, you silver demon?"
"Of course not," said Mechatronic. "It is technology, advanced technology from my world. It is upgrading you, changing you physically, but not in character or personality. Your will, as always, is your own."
"But what was that in my arm and in Fitch's skin?" asked Susanna.
"You have a molecule whip," replied Mechatronic. "Fitch is developing metallic subcutaneous armour, as well as
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