The Diamond Deep by Brenda Cooper

heard his own sounds, the way he moved in his suit, the small grunts of pain he couldn’t help any more when his arm scraped across whatever was cutting him.
    He glanced below. There were two holes where spider bots had taken cargo containers.
    The line in his hand jerked.
    The claws on the spider bots were strong enough to cut the straps on cargo containers; they were strong enough to cut the traverse lines.
    â€œIx?” he queried.
    â€œYes?”
    â€œIf we tie on, will gravity stop them? Should you turn on the gravgens?”
    â€œI have been running calculations. You might be harmed more than them by sudden gravity.”
    Marcelle’s boots receded and he chased them.
    â€œIt might be bad for the ship as well. Nothing in this bay is used to real gravity. The gens should be ramped up slowly with handlers available.”
    Stupid machine could talk through anything.
    Time dragged. Focus shrank to the feel of the line across his gloves, to the way his suit didn’t move as fluidly as it should, to the cut on his arm, to keeping the same distance between his helmet and Marcelle’s boots.
    Marcelle grabbed the far wall, one hand on a handhold, then the other, then she was vertical to his horizontal, helping him.
    He wanted to cling to the wall beside the airlock with his belly but he had to turn.
    Colin was more than half-way to them.
    Onor’s biggest fear wasn’t true; no spider robot swarmed up the line behind them. Perhaps they were too bulky to balance.
    Two of the robots were by the airlock they’d come in through, one of them on the wall opposite them, and another down by the cargo containers. At this moment they all seemed to be stopped.
    Onor looked for the other crew-members. There should be two other humans even if two got out.
    He didn’t see them.
    He was back to only being able to talk to the machine. “Where are the others?”
    â€œTwo have died.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œTwo escaped.”
    So five of them and four robots, and Ix.
    Beside him, Marcelle inched toward the airlock and pushed the button to release the door.
    Opposite them, on the far wall, Onor glimpsed a robot’s claw slide over the line and close.
    The traverse line—complete with Colin on it, slackened.
    Onor braced himself, tucking his feet into two of the handholds. He pulled. The spider that had cut the line started to jump. It stuck to the walls, avoiding the open spaces. Coming for them.
    Spiders had been a hazard to avoid in the game of Adiamo. In the game, they had been the size of his thumb.
    Onor kept pulling.
    Something moved down below and Onor risked a glimpse, saw a bot headed toward them from there. Closer than the one that had cut the line.
    He pulled harder. He couldn’t leave Colin and he needed to get Marcelle out.
    Breathing hurt, his shoulders hurt.
    Ix’s voice in his head. “You can make it. Keep going. The airlock is open, behind you. Up and to the right.”
    The bot was half-way to them. It must be doing the same calculation, and it must think it could get to them.
    He gave a last hard tug and extended his hand, letting Colin float into it. He grasped Colin’s arm with his glove and twisted, pushing Colin toward the open door.
    His feet should have stayed locked into place, but when he twisted one of them came free. The stiff suit hadn’t let him move the way it should have.
    He still had Colin’s hand, and he couldn’t turn back.
    Colin flexed his arm, trying to pull himself into the wall. The movement pulled Onor all the way free, the two of them floating near the airlock, just out of reach of anything. The momentum they had went the wrong direction.
    Something bumped him from below, startling him. He expected to feel the edges of a claw, but it was a gloved hand, holding him.
    Marcelle had kicked off the wall with the line in one hand. She’d grabbed him with the other.
    Now she had no free hand. Onor held onto