Spares. Michael Marshall Smith. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Michael Marshall Smith
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современная зарубежная литература
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780007325375
Скачать книгу
gun, fired it from the hip, but I watched the effect it had as if my eyes were cameras and I was sitting in some entirely different room somewhere far away. The round caught him squarely in the stomach and it looked almost as if his lungs and bowels stayed where they were while the rest of his body leapt forward.

      Then time hit me like a truck from the side and I stumbled backwards into the yard as Ratchet kept repeating his alarm, over and over again. There was something damaged and empty about the sound, and I wondered if he'd been hit.

      The yard was brightly lit against the darkness by arclights in each corner. In less than a second I realized where the medic droid had been going when he left the complex: to cut the tyres of the ambulance. I guess he couldn't have known we'd make it there first and, since it couldn't harm SafetyNet employees, had done his best to destroy their means of pursuit. Nice thinking on his, or – more likely – Ratchet's part, but not everything goes the way you expect. As I stared bleakly at the vehicle I heard an excited squawk from behind me, and turned to see Ragald standing shivering in the door. Nanune was hiding behind him, gaping at the mess in the control room. Both were completely naked.

      I got within an inch of shouting at them to go back inside, caught sight of Ratchet, and clamped my mouth shut. Wincing against the sound of David's continuing attack on the ambulance, I threw my bag at Suej and told her to get them dressed. Then I grabbed the neck of David's coat, hauled him away from a door which was now covered in dents from his fists, and ran towards the gate. I trusted Ratchet to keep the other doctor out of my hair for a few minutes at least.

      I fired a round at the gate's lock mechanism, and then two others at the hinges. The metal bent and split, not completely but enough. As David and I kicked and shouldered the remains of the gate, we heard a bellow behind us. I whirled with the gun, teeth unconsciously bared, and came very close to blowing Mr Two to pieces. When I saw he'd brought half a body out with him I shut my eyes and nearly pulled the trigger anyway.

      Suej held her hands up, took a coat and pair of overalls out for the latest addition to our merry band, and put the half spare in my bag, which was by now empty of clothes. What would have been enough to keep four people warm was now spread thinly over six and a half.

      When the gate finally gave way, eventually aided by another round from the riot gun, I shouted at the spares and they straggled towards the gate with maddening slowness. When they reached the fence they all stopped as one, looking out through the hole in the gate like a litter of kittens; in front of an open window for the first time and not knowing what on earth to make of the possibilities beyond.

      An hour later we were on a CybTrak train, trundling round the outskirts of Roanoke and heading for the mountains. CybTrak wouldn't have been my first choice of transport, maybe not even my second or third. Like anyone else, when something's after me I want to be getting the hell away as quickly as possible: making a getaway on CybTrak was like taking part in a car chase while riding a pogo stick. The network is only there to transport non-perishable goods slowly round the backwoods. I could have made better time just running. But within a few minutes of leaving the compound I saw that there was a higher priority than speed: getting the spares somewhere contained, manageable and away from normal eyes.

      They tried their best, David and Suej in particular. They'd all sat up nights and dreamed aloud of some day setting foot beyond the fence. I used to hear snatches of these conversations sometimes, as I dozed over a book at the other side of the control room. I'd let them talk, though I knew – or thought I did – that it could never happen. A release from pain, some better place. Everyone needs a religion, some unseen good to yearn towards.

      The moment I actually got them out, they froze. It was too much. Way, way too much. Most stopped dead in their tracks, trying to inventory the new things one by one. As the new things started with the black road at their feet and continued indefinitely in every direction, I sensed it could take a while. Ragald went to the other extreme, tuning everything out and thrumming instead with a blind and nervous joy which pulled each limb in a different direction and threatened to tear him apart. Mr Two gazed meditatively across the hill, turning in a slow circle and intoning the word ‘spatula’ at regular intervals, and Jenny stood slightly apart, trying to occupy as little space as possible.

      I got them moving eventually, but it was like trying to hurry a group of children on acid through a toy factory. Every step was too magical to understand, never mind leave behind.

      There was a T-junction thirty yards up the hill. I couldn't remember where the two choices went, and squinted in both directions. One seemed to head round a hill, probably towards the town; the other looked as if it headed off towards the south end of the Blue Ridge Parkway. We didn't want to go to Roanoke – hell, who does? – so I took them right instead.

      It was impossible. By dint of shouting at them I managed to focus David and Suej, but that was all. Mr Two wouldn't walk in a straight line, but in large bowing curves like a cat. Nanune was still trying to hide behind Ragald, and whenever the male spare turned to stare at something new she shuffled round behind him until they were suddenly walking in another direction altogether. I could have made quicker progress walking backwards on my hands. It was pitch dark, and the temperature was dropping like a stone. I was torn between a rising panic and insane calm. The two fed each other, melding together until they were transformed into some larger feeling of swift and glittering dread.

      Then two yellow eyes appeared ahead, and I bundled the spares rapidly off the road. By the time the car had passed I knew that we couldn't simply keep on walking.

      I got us a half mile up the Parkway, to a point where the trees were thickening on either side of the road. Then I collected the spares into a group, led them into the trees, and impressed upon them the importance of shutting the fuck up.

      It was like being in the tunnels when the operating men came, I said — only even more important.

      I walked away, turned back to check they were out of sight and saw Ragald obliviously following me. I returned him to the group under Suej's supervision, and then walked away again. From twenty yards they were invisible. They'd be safe for a little while — at least until SafetyNet came with dogs. Holding the gun up against my chest, conscious of how few cartridges I had left, I ran off to see what I could find.

      I was too wired then to feel what I experienced the following morning in the CybTrak compound — a sudden delirious joy at being back in the world. Instead, I concentrated on keeping myself invisible, trying to work out a way we could get out of the area. The fact that the road wasn't crawling with SafetyNet security or Roanoke police already was almost eerie. We had very little time to vanish.

      I found the CybTrak rails after about ten minutes and ran back to collect the spares. They were terrified by then, and so cold they could barely walk, but I got them back to the track. We waited, and it was not long before a train meandered past. I walked alongside the train hauling the spares one by one into a carriage full of computer parts.

      Then I jumped up myself, pushed the panel shut, and we left the Farm behind for ever.

      Howie sat staring at his hands, as he had for much of the second part. I'd seldom met his eye, just let my mouth run. It was the first time in five years I'd had a real conversation with someone who wasn't a droid or a spare. Even though I'd been describing a disaster area, it had felt good. Except now I'd finished I remembered it was all true, and that there were people who wanted to punish me for it.

      I told Howie the rest, how we'd fetched up in a backwoods CybTrack compound that morning, and how Ragald had been cut in half by two security droids which had disguised themselves as an abandoned snow-covered carriage. Then I stood up, bones creaking, and fetched another beer from the fridge.

      When I sat back down at the table Howie raised his eyes and looked at me. Then he started slowly shaking his head.

       Five

      I woke the next morning from dreams which had been confused and bitter. When my eyes blinked open and I found myself lying stiffly on the floor with my head on a balled-up coat I was