In the cordite reeking quiet that followed, nothing moved. The autoturret had gone dormant, barrels slanting at a downward angle, smoke coiling from the breeches. I unclasped my hands from my ears and climbed to my feet, pressing gingerly on my nose and face to ascertain the extent of the damage done. The bleeding seemed to be slowing down and though there were cuts in my mouth I couldn't find any loosened teeth. My ribs hurt where the second kick had hit me, but it didn't feel as if anything was broken. I glanced over at the nearest corpse, and wished I hadn't. Someone was going to have to get a mop.