Read Online The Great Game by Lavie Tidhar - Free Book Online
Authors: Lavie Tidhar
Tags: Fantasy
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the man moved aside elegantly, avoiding impact, and Smith went past him, barely sparing him a glance.
  The cries grew louder; in the distance, a police siren. A crowd of people gathered outside the Bucket of Blood , blocking the way into the narrow alleyway beside it. He pushed his way through.
  Stopped when he came to the body.
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The observer had found the encounter interesting, for several reasons. For one, the device had obviously been waiting for him. It didn't put up a fight but had waited, its back to the observer, as though offering up what it had.
  The observer's blade was already out and so he came to the device and inserted the blade in the same place as it did all the others, the base of the head, going inwards into the brain. Only this time he felt nothing, and was momentarily confused.
  "I am using distributed storage, I'm afraid," the device said, politely. It took the observer back, a little. None of the others spoke to him. Not until they were dead, at any rate.
  The blade came out, went back in. A series of stabsâ
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A boy, standing in the shadows on the other side of the alley, watched this with wide-open eyes. He saw a man crouching over the fallen body of another man (it was too dark to distinguish details), savagely stabbing it, over and over and over. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came. He had followed the observer from the crowd, having tried to pick his pocket earlier. The stabbing went on and on.
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Smith knelt beside the body of the automaton. There was, of course, no blood, through sparks flew out of the holes in Byron's body, and a viscous sort of liquid did , in fact, seep through the cuts and out, hissing as it touched the paved stones. Smith pushed the body onto its back. Byron's blind eyes stared up at him.
  "Byron," Smith said. And, when there was no response â "Byron!"
  But the machine was dying. Blue sparks of electricity jumped over the body and the crowd surged back, as though afraid it would explode. Smith raised his head; for just a moment he caught sight of a small, frightened figure standing at the other end of the alleyway. Then it disappeared.
  "Byron!"
  "Step aside, Smith."
  He knew the voice. But he didn't move. He checked the automaton but the blue sparks were increasing and he felt an electric shock run through him and he jumped back.
  "Everyone back!" The voice was authoritative and the crowd obeyed. Smith found himself dragged away; strong arms held him even as he fought to get back to Byron.
  But the automaton's body was aflame in a blue, electric light now, and the ground around it was hissing, yellow acidic liquid spilling out of the multiple cuts. Smith was pushed to the ground, still fighting. "Don'tâ" he beganâ
  With his cheek pressed against the cold hard stones he saw the flames begin to rise, yellow out of blue, slowly at first, then growing larger. Weight pressed down on his back; he couldn't move. He wanted to close his eyes but couldn't, and so he watched as the Lord Byron automaton burned, there in the alleyway where, centuries before, the dissident Dryden had been attacked.
  "So ends the old," the earlier voice said, close, in his ears, "to give birth to the new," and Smith closed his eyes, at last, and knew that they were wet, and he said, "Go away, Adler. Please, just go away."
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ELEVEN
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The last time they had met she was an inspector and he was Mycroft's errand boy. Now Mycroft was gone and Irene Adler was chief of Scotland Yard, and looked it.
  They were sitting opposite each other in the bare interrogation room. When the fire had consumed the old automaton, Adler had instructed her officers to release Smith, but keep him where he was. She had secured the perimeter of the site, had officers interviewing potential witnesses, and two chattering police automatons, short
  The cries grew louder; in the distance, a police siren. A crowd of people gathered outside the Bucket of Blood , blocking the way into the narrow alleyway beside it. He pushed his way through.
  Stopped when he came to the body.
Â
The observer had found the encounter interesting, for several reasons. For one, the device had obviously been waiting for him. It didn't put up a fight but had waited, its back to the observer, as though offering up what it had.
  The observer's blade was already out and so he came to the device and inserted the blade in the same place as it did all the others, the base of the head, going inwards into the brain. Only this time he felt nothing, and was momentarily confused.
  "I am using distributed storage, I'm afraid," the device said, politely. It took the observer back, a little. None of the others spoke to him. Not until they were dead, at any rate.
  The blade came out, went back in. A series of stabsâ
Â
A boy, standing in the shadows on the other side of the alley, watched this with wide-open eyes. He saw a man crouching over the fallen body of another man (it was too dark to distinguish details), savagely stabbing it, over and over and over. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came. He had followed the observer from the crowd, having tried to pick his pocket earlier. The stabbing went on and on.
Â
Smith knelt beside the body of the automaton. There was, of course, no blood, through sparks flew out of the holes in Byron's body, and a viscous sort of liquid did , in fact, seep through the cuts and out, hissing as it touched the paved stones. Smith pushed the body onto its back. Byron's blind eyes stared up at him.
  "Byron," Smith said. And, when there was no response â "Byron!"
  But the machine was dying. Blue sparks of electricity jumped over the body and the crowd surged back, as though afraid it would explode. Smith raised his head; for just a moment he caught sight of a small, frightened figure standing at the other end of the alleyway. Then it disappeared.
  "Byron!"
  "Step aside, Smith."
  He knew the voice. But he didn't move. He checked the automaton but the blue sparks were increasing and he felt an electric shock run through him and he jumped back.
  "Everyone back!" The voice was authoritative and the crowd obeyed. Smith found himself dragged away; strong arms held him even as he fought to get back to Byron.
  But the automaton's body was aflame in a blue, electric light now, and the ground around it was hissing, yellow acidic liquid spilling out of the multiple cuts. Smith was pushed to the ground, still fighting. "Don'tâ" he beganâ
  With his cheek pressed against the cold hard stones he saw the flames begin to rise, yellow out of blue, slowly at first, then growing larger. Weight pressed down on his back; he couldn't move. He wanted to close his eyes but couldn't, and so he watched as the Lord Byron automaton burned, there in the alleyway where, centuries before, the dissident Dryden had been attacked.
  "So ends the old," the earlier voice said, close, in his ears, "to give birth to the new," and Smith closed his eyes, at last, and knew that they were wet, and he said, "Go away, Adler. Please, just go away."
Â
Â
ELEVEN
Â
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The last time they had met she was an inspector and he was Mycroft's errand boy. Now Mycroft was gone and Irene Adler was chief of Scotland Yard, and looked it.
  They were sitting opposite each other in the bare interrogation room. When the fire had consumed the old automaton, Adler had instructed her officers to release Smith, but keep him where he was. She had secured the perimeter of the site, had officers interviewing potential witnesses, and two chattering police automatons, short
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