A Heaven for Toasters

CHAPTER 18: Fire

8:54 p.m.

My fingers tore through the weapons cabinet in a frantic search for anything that could help us. I pulled out an odd-looking gun, like a donut-shaped rifle. "Hello, what's this?"

Leo took it from my hands and studied it. "Looks like an EMP gun. It's usually used against drones. It emits an electromagnetic pulse that overloads their electronics and—"

I yanked it back. "No, silly, I know what it is. I meant it as in, how about we use this to get out of this mess?"

Leo shook his head. "The pulse is too weak for the robodogs' shielding. And the range too small. Plus, the canopy is made of reinforced glass. It contains metal fragments, which would act like a Faraday cage. It would absorb most of the pulse."

Gosh, I miss optimist Leo.

"Finally," Leo continued, "unlike the handguns, the rifle is fingerprint-locked. Neither of us can operate it. Of course, Captain may wake up any minute, but still..." He shrugged to show he didn't hold much hope.

I clutched the EMP rifle on my chest and leaned against my seat. I pointed the gun against one of the drones and pretended to shoot. Its red eye blinked at me mockingly.

"So, what do we do now?" I asked.

"Sex?"

I whipped my head around to face him. "Excuse me?"

He knitted his eyebrows in question. "I've heard it alleviates tension in situations like this. Your reaction tells me that's not true?"

"No, it's..." Images of his shirtless body flashed in my head. "Time and place, buddy," I said with a sigh. "Time and place." Were it not for the minor inconvenience of us facing our imminent deaths, it would definitely be an option worth exploring. I unconsciously licked my lips. "Let's shelve that for now, shall we?" I returned my attention to the EMP rifle. "Is there any way we can juice up this baby?"

"You mean, increase its power?" Leo remained silent for a few seconds. "I could try connecting it to the zoomer's power grid. Are there any tools?"

I opened the glove compartment, still called that despite the fact that the last glove to enter one was probably located in a glass case inside a museum. I pulled out some old biscuits, some virus-enhanced chewing gum guaranteed to remove harmful bacteria from your mouth, a battered tablet, and a sonic screwdriver. I lifted it in the air, feeling as triumphant as King Arthur upon dislodging the Excalibur from its stone prison. "Something like this?"

"Perfect." Leo took it from my hands and used it to take apart the EMP rifle. He placed the various pieces in neat piles around Captain. A multitude of thin wires connected several pieces.

The hissing noise of our canopy evaporating into smoke increased in volume, a sure sign the drones had almost cut through.

"Please hurry," I whispered.

With sure hands, Leo used the screwdriver to remove a panel from the foot of the cockpit. He cut several wires and hotwired them into a fiendishly complex board filled with flashing lights.

One minute passed.

Then, another.

Crack! A thin column of smoke entered the cockpit from a tiny fracture in the canopy. The drones pulled back for a second before redoubling their efforts, one of them concentrating on that spot.

"Leo?" My voice trembled.

"Done." He pulled back to examine his handiwork. "But it's no use."

My head jerked up in shock. "Huh?"