dead ahead. That was why you approached a bull slowly and from an angle, so as not to startle it. And maybe a man-bull's vision wasn't much better.
The monster bowed its head, seeming to have found nothing to trouble it. Keeping stock-still, Sam watched as it began peering intently into the lake. She couldn't fathom what it was so fascinated by all at once. A fish? Then the penny dropped.
The Minotaur was studying its own reflection.
It tilted its head to one side then the other. One hand probed its massive horns then the contours of its heavy overhanging brow, as though these things were unfamiliar and felt wrong. The Minotaur was inspecting its features in the manner of Narcissus — but unlike Narcissus it did not like what it saw.
The monster let out a profound, dolorous bellow. Then it began pounding the water, fists scattering its reflection into a million ripples and then scattering those ripples. Finally it collapsed into a sitting position on the bank, now beating rocks rather than the lake. Its torso swayed and its mouth gaped in a soundless lament.
It knows, Sam thought, with an inward gasp. It knows it's a monster.
Her astonishment rapidly gave way to something akin to pity. Somehow this creature, this hideous half-breed thing, was aware of its own unnaturalness. It couldn't bear to look at itself. It didn't want to be what it was. Trapped inside it was some dim spark of a sentience that was more than animal — that was, could only be, human.
Unconsciously, Sam let go of grenade and gun.
At last the Minotaur clambered to its feet and stalked off into the trees, head hanging low.
Sam slipped her helmet on.
'All Titans, this, uh, this is Tethys reporting it. I have a sighting. Repeat, I have a confirmed sighting of the target.'
'You OK, Tethys? You don't sound right.'
'I'm fine, Hyperion. Absolutely fine. Relay the message to Galetti on the RCDC's shortwave frequency, then let's make for the rendezvous point.'
She was already thinking the unthinkable, trying to work out how she could take the Minotaur alive.
It was madness.
That didn't mean it was wrong, though.
35. CUL-DE-SAC
T he Resistenza members did their bit, descending in a sweeping arc from behind the Minotaur, driving it downslope with small arms fire. There were too many of them for it to pick one to charge at. Whenever it turned menacingly on any of its pursuers, bullets would spray at it from another direction and, confused, maddened, the monster would recoil and lumber away to escape the stinging barrage.
The Corsicans yelped with glee and pressed the Minotaur harder. They had it on the run. But success made them bold, and boldness made them reckless. One of them dared himself to go right up to the beast, puffing out his chest and singing a folk tune about foxes and wolves that was an uncomplimentary allegory of French colonialism. The Minotaur rounded on him with a startling turn of speed, impaling him in the belly then flipping him high into the air. Entrails uncoiled as the Corsican spun skyward. He landed on rocks with an immense splash of blood, bursting like a bag of water.
From then on, everyone was a bit more cautious. But the herding continued.
A village below was the designated kill zone. It nestled at one end of a steep-sided valley, in a natural bottleneck. The residents had been instructed to stay indoors and were heeding the warning. Iapetus and Hyperion were stationed at the village's two main entry points, waiting for the monster to appear. The other three Titans were strategically positioned in the streets.
The boom of a shotgun announced that the Minotaur had arrived.
'Buckshot up the clacker. Don't much like that, do you, you flaming mongrel,' said Iapetus. 'Crius, it's coming your way.'
'Roger that.' Moments later there was the chunky staccato of an assault rifle on triple-burst setting. 'Tethys, Mnemosyne, it's heading straight for you now.'
'Roger, Crius,' said Sam. 'We're cloaked and ready.' She looked over at Mnemosyne, whose battlesuit was brick-red like the wall she was standing against. Mnemosyne had the coilgun. To her fell responsibility for delivering the fatal shot.
'I'm scared as all buggery,' Mnemosyne said off-comms.
'Don't be,' Sam said. 'You can do this. Just stay calm. Wait for me to give you the OK.'
The Minotaur lurched into view. It lumbered up the road towards them, glistening with sweat, eyes panic- wild. It passed straight between the two Titans, seeing neither, and ran headlong into the cul-de-sac whose mouth they were flanking. Only at the last moment, as the end of the cul-de-sac loomed before it, did the Minotaur realise it had blundered into a blind alley. It turned in order to retrace its steps, and that was when two human figures seemed to manifest in front of it from nowhere. Magically, they detached themselves from the walls on either side, blocking its route to freedom.
The idea was that Sam would pin the monster down with suppressing fire from her submachine gun so as to allow Mnemosyne to line up a clean, surgical takedown shot. Landesman was confident the coilgun's superior velocity would be able to put a bullet through the Minotaur's hide where other, lesser guns could not.
But Sam, of course, was brewing another plan. When she saw the look of resignation in the Minotaur's eyes, that clinched it for her. Ignoring the protestations of Hyperion from afar, she had Mnemosyne temporarily stand down, then fitted on and activated a pair of stun-dusters. Fists crackling with voltage, she ran to meet the charging Minotaur head-on.
Don't fuck it up.
Her weight was no match for the monster's but her momentum was. The two of them collided halfway along the cul-de-sac, and even through the suit Sam felt the jarring impact. But the Minotaur was the one who was shunted backwards, not her, and Sam felt a surge of something like hilarity bubble up in her as she pushed the monster bodily along the road, less than a hundred pounds of woman successfully manhandling a creature more than four times bulkier. She rammed the Minotaur against the wall at the end, brickwork cracking, mortar dust puffing.
Voices were yelling in her ear — Landesman's, Hyperion's, McCann's, even Lillicrap's. Everyone wanted to know what the hell she thought she was up to. Loud as all the shouting was, however, the pounding of her blood was louder.
The Minotaur bellowed. Its musk smell was almost overpoweringly rank. Sam grappled with the monster, pushing it against the wall, using every ounce of suit-enhanced strength to keep it in place. The Minotaur butted her, its horns clattering on her helmet. She ducked her head and, one-armed, punched the monster in the gut. Electricity sparked from the stun-duster and the Minotaur let out a roar of pain. She punched again, and the beast convulsed from head to toe.
But it didn't fall and it didn't stop struggling either. And then a kick from a powerful leg booted Sam in the midriff and sent her hurtling through space. She crashed into an iron gate; through the gate into a small courtyard; across the courtyard into a wooden bench, which was smashed to kindling. Immediately she was back on her feet, thanking her stars that the courtyard was empty — no one there to be injured by a flying Titan. A second later the enraged Minotaur burst in through the gateway. Sam went for it, taking it down with a waist-high rugby tackle. Monster and Titan went tumbling to the ground. There was grappling, jockeying for advantage. A table overturned. An earthenware urn full of herbs broke. Sam, almost to her surprise, found she had managed to gain the upper hand. Servos whirring, she levered herself on top of the Minotaur, straddling it. Three quick punches to its face depleted all the charge from her right stun-duster. The monster groaned. Blood-red eyes rolled in their sockets. She gave it a further couple of punches with her left stun-duster. The creature's skull was as sturdy as steel but the blows, and the million-volt jolts that came with them, took their toll. Sam clambered off its chest. The Minotaur made a feeble, flailing attempt to get up, but the best it could manage was propping itself on one elbow. Then it slumped back onto the courtyard flagstones, head sagging, tongue lolling out.
