Read Online Chronicles of Isambard Smith 05 - End of Empires by Toby Frost - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Toby Frost
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perception, but not really in a real way, you know?’
‘Mm.’
‘And auras, and psychic defence? I mean, I can actually do those now. Really actually.’
‘Mmm.’
‘So what do you think? Isambard?’
He looked up and blinked. ‘Me? Think? Well, most of the time it’s complete piffle, really. All this auras nonsense and that sort of thing. Candles made of earwax and sticking pins in things. Except when you do it, of course. You’re the best girlfriend I could ever realistically ask for, Rhianna, and I mean it.’
Rhianna slid down on Smith’s bed and adjusted her position against him. ‘Yeah,’ she said, after a while. ‘For a colonialist oppressor, you’re pretty cool too, really.’
* * *
Smith woke up to find that Rhianna was snoring next to him. He got up carefully, not waking her. While sleeping with girls was excellent, it still felt wrong not to be able to wear pyjamas and break wind in bed. He put his dressing gown on and left his quarters.
Carveth sat in the living room, eating breakfast cereal. ‘Alright, Boss,’ she said. ‘Give me a hand with this, would you? I’ve had three helpings of Rightos and I’ve still not seen the free toy.’
‘Are you sure that’s a good idea, eating the whole box just to get the free gift?’
‘It’s a wind-up dreadnought.’
‘Pass me a bowl.’
He ate thoughtfully, trying not to think of cardboard as he spooned the Rightos into his mouth. At least it wasn’t Shredded Wheat, which tasted like a freeze-dried toupee. As tended to happen, Carveth finished first.
She stood up, adjusting her utility waistcoat. As usual, she wore a collarless shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and trousers with pockets on the thighs. Today, however, she had accessorised with a red scarf. She tugged a flat cap out of her waistband and jammed it onto her head. ‘What do you think of this?’ she asked. ‘Is this how dangerous anarchists look?’
‘Very good, I think.’ Carveth looked like a sulky, disreputable technician about to down tools and start an argument, which struck him as a clever disguise until he remembered that that was exactly what she was. ‘Where’s Suruk?’
‘Getting ready for meeting the anarchists. I think he’s expecting to have to impress them by creating anarchy. I’m sure they’ll love him: he can barely wash his mandibles without going mental. Have you seen the way he wrings out a face flannel? It’s sinister.’ She sighed. ‘I wish we had someone to back us up. I could do with having Rick Dreckitt behind me. Actually, in front would be better.’ She looked rather wistful, no doubt contemplating her romance with him. ‘It was like Brief Encounter with us. Except there was more than one encounter. And it wasn’t all that brief, actually.’
Smith reflected that Carveth had a point. Dreckitt had carved a living as an android bounty hunter before becoming part of the Service: no doubt he had experience of dealing with desperate men. And, in the form of Carveth, desperate women.
That was the problem with working for the secret service: you never quite knew what was going on. In fact, the Service was so secretive that it was doubtful whether any of its members were entirely sure. It had been months since Smith had seen the master spy, W, or even Major Wainscott, head of the Service’s military operations. Admittedly, Wainscott could usually be detected by the trail of devastation, but even that had gone quiet. Perhaps he had been captured by the enemy, or returned by his own side to the Sunnyvale Home for the Bewildered.
The door opened and Suruk entered from the hold. He was not exactly sweating, but he had a slightly ruffled look and his eyes were more bloodshot than usual. ‘Greetings, humans!’ he said, advancing to the teapot. ‘The sun rises on Ravnavar and I thirst for honourable battle. What are the chances of getting a decent fight out of these people tonight?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Smith replied. ‘I think it’s best
‘Mm.’
‘And auras, and psychic defence? I mean, I can actually do those now. Really actually.’
‘Mmm.’
‘So what do you think? Isambard?’
He looked up and blinked. ‘Me? Think? Well, most of the time it’s complete piffle, really. All this auras nonsense and that sort of thing. Candles made of earwax and sticking pins in things. Except when you do it, of course. You’re the best girlfriend I could ever realistically ask for, Rhianna, and I mean it.’
Rhianna slid down on Smith’s bed and adjusted her position against him. ‘Yeah,’ she said, after a while. ‘For a colonialist oppressor, you’re pretty cool too, really.’
* * *
Smith woke up to find that Rhianna was snoring next to him. He got up carefully, not waking her. While sleeping with girls was excellent, it still felt wrong not to be able to wear pyjamas and break wind in bed. He put his dressing gown on and left his quarters.
Carveth sat in the living room, eating breakfast cereal. ‘Alright, Boss,’ she said. ‘Give me a hand with this, would you? I’ve had three helpings of Rightos and I’ve still not seen the free toy.’
‘Are you sure that’s a good idea, eating the whole box just to get the free gift?’
‘It’s a wind-up dreadnought.’
‘Pass me a bowl.’
He ate thoughtfully, trying not to think of cardboard as he spooned the Rightos into his mouth. At least it wasn’t Shredded Wheat, which tasted like a freeze-dried toupee. As tended to happen, Carveth finished first.
She stood up, adjusting her utility waistcoat. As usual, she wore a collarless shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and trousers with pockets on the thighs. Today, however, she had accessorised with a red scarf. She tugged a flat cap out of her waistband and jammed it onto her head. ‘What do you think of this?’ she asked. ‘Is this how dangerous anarchists look?’
‘Very good, I think.’ Carveth looked like a sulky, disreputable technician about to down tools and start an argument, which struck him as a clever disguise until he remembered that that was exactly what she was. ‘Where’s Suruk?’
‘Getting ready for meeting the anarchists. I think he’s expecting to have to impress them by creating anarchy. I’m sure they’ll love him: he can barely wash his mandibles without going mental. Have you seen the way he wrings out a face flannel? It’s sinister.’ She sighed. ‘I wish we had someone to back us up. I could do with having Rick Dreckitt behind me. Actually, in front would be better.’ She looked rather wistful, no doubt contemplating her romance with him. ‘It was like Brief Encounter with us. Except there was more than one encounter. And it wasn’t all that brief, actually.’
Smith reflected that Carveth had a point. Dreckitt had carved a living as an android bounty hunter before becoming part of the Service: no doubt he had experience of dealing with desperate men. And, in the form of Carveth, desperate women.
That was the problem with working for the secret service: you never quite knew what was going on. In fact, the Service was so secretive that it was doubtful whether any of its members were entirely sure. It had been months since Smith had seen the master spy, W, or even Major Wainscott, head of the Service’s military operations. Admittedly, Wainscott could usually be detected by the trail of devastation, but even that had gone quiet. Perhaps he had been captured by the enemy, or returned by his own side to the Sunnyvale Home for the Bewildered.
The door opened and Suruk entered from the hold. He was not exactly sweating, but he had a slightly ruffled look and his eyes were more bloodshot than usual. ‘Greetings, humans!’ he said, advancing to the teapot. ‘The sun rises on Ravnavar and I thirst for honourable battle. What are the chances of getting a decent fight out of these people tonight?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Smith replied. ‘I think it’s best
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