The Trade by Barry Hutchison Page A

risk it spreading more nanites.’
    Rex looked down. The slug Evo was squelching across the grass towards the Providence soldiers.
    â€˜I’d say reasoning with it is out of the question, too,’ Rex muttered. He took a deep breath. ‘Guess I’m just going to have to get my hands dirty.’
    WHOOSH!
    Rex rocketed towards the Evo, his face fixed in a mask of determination. This was going to get nasty!
    As he passed above the slug-beast, he folded the jetpack back into his body. Almost at once he began to fall. Only the gloopy hide of the Evo stopped him hitting the ground.
    Mechanical feet grew from Rex’s legs, allowing him to grip onto the Evo’s back, like a cowboy on a bucking bronco. The Evo growled as Rex pressed his hands against the monster’s slimy skin.
    â€˜Trust me,’ he grimaced, ‘I don’t like this any more than you do.’
    Concentrating hard, Rex absorbed the nanites from inside the Evo. He felt them flow into his body, and as they did, the slug-creature became a slug-man, and then, finally, just a man.
    Standing up, Rex wiped his sticky hands on the front of his trousers. ‘Another one bites the … um … slime.’
    Retracting his Punk Buster legs back into his body, Rex turned to find Agent Six standing in front of him. He was about to speak when the Punk Bustersemerged again all on their own. ‘Whoa, where’d they come from?’ he frowned.
    Agent Six raised an eyebrow. ‘Everything OK?’
    â€˜Yeah, it’s just –’
    The legs pulled back into Rex’s body. He paused for a moment, making sure they were gone for good this time. ‘Weird,’ he began, but a sudden
clanking
sound stopped him. The Punk Busters reformed yet again, only this time it was clear that something was very wrong.
    Rex stared at his arms, which now had a huge pair of mechanical feet attached to the end of them. ‘OK,’ he swallowed. ‘This is
not
good.’

CHAPTER 2
    A GENT S IX STARED long and hard at the feet on the end of Rex’s arms. ‘Quit fooling around,’ he said, at last.
    Rex shook his head. ‘Um … I’m not doing this!’
    The last word came out as a loud gasp, as the Punk Busters vanished without warning. Rex and Agent Six stood in silence for a few moments. Around them, the Providence Agents were dealing with the crowds and finding a blanket for the man who had, until very recently, been a slug.
    â€˜Well done, Rex,’ said Dr Holiday, strolling across the grass to join them. ‘That was some quick …’ She spotted their expressions. ‘Those are worried faces,’ she said. ‘Why are we doing worried faces?’
    With a metallic
clang
, just one of Rex’s Smackhands emerged. Surprisingly, it chose to emerge from the top of his head. Rex looked up. ‘I’m officially upgrading my “worried face” to a “terrified face”,’ he announced, quietly.
    Dr Holiday blinked. ‘That’s … unexpected,’ she said.
    â€˜You sure you aren’t doing this on purpose?’ asked Agent Six, his eyes narrowing.
    â€˜I’ve got a fist growing out of my head!’ Rex cried. ‘Why would I do that on
purpose
?’
    There was another sound of moving metal and his head returned to normal. Rex felt a brief moment of relief, before his Boogie Pack generated from his shoulders. He barely had time to realise what was happening before the jet turbines activated, launching him straight up into the air.
    Down on the ground, Six and Holiday watched him streak towards the clouds. From that distance, they could barely even hear his panicked screams.
    â€˜OK,’ Six said. ‘I guess we’d better haul him in for testing.’
    Dr Holiday nodded her head. ‘I guess we should find a way to catch him first. Any suggestions?’
    THUD!
    Rex slammed down onto the grass. He had metal arms where his feet should be. He