Read Online The Witches of Chiswick by Robert Rankin - Free Book Online Page B

down upon it. It was a small brass nameplate, a maker’s nameplate, with certain words printed upon it.
    They were:
    BABBAGE & CO.
    MAKERS OF
    AUTOMATA TO
    HER MAJESTY
    QUEEN VICTORIA
    PATENT NO. – 3610592
    MADE IN ENGLAND, 1895.

6
    Supper in the Starling household was a somewhat sombre affair. It lacked the usual cheery banter. The intended supper had been discarded due to its adulteration by splatterings of gore, and although the replacement was toothsome, it could do little to raise the spirits of the Starlings.
    Will turned food with his fork and remained alone with his thoughts. His parents viewed him suspiciously. What had happened was down to Will and they knew it.
    After supper Will said, “I’m going out,” and took himself off to Tim’s.
    Tim McGregor lived thirteen floors up from Will, in an all-but-identical unit, the only difference being that Tim’s breakfasting area was not bespattered with gore.
    Will knocked at the door and Tim let him in.
    “You never ring the chimes,” said Tim.
    “I don’t like the tunes,” said Will.
    “Come inside then.”
    And Will came inside.
    “That was all pretty savage,” said Tim, steering Will towards his bedroom. “I had to have a shower. I’m still shaking.”
    “There’s something I have to tell you, Tim, something very important.”
    “I’ll show you my shoe collection,” Tim said. “I picked up a pair of antique brogues the other week. Well, they’re not actually a pair, but they should interest you.”
    “I’m not really interested in—”
    “Come and see.” Tim opened the door to his clothes cupboard and propelled Will into it.
    “Hang about,” Will protested. “What are you doing?”
    But Tim had followed Will into the cupboard and closed the door upon them both.
    “What are you doing, Tim? Let me out.”
    “Be silent for a moment, and I’ll explain.” Tim switched on a light and put his finger to his lips.
    “What are you up to?”
    “Just be quiet.”
    “Okay,” Will shrugged. “What’s going on?”
    “I don’t want us to be seen or heard. I’m going to tell you some stuff. It’s very sensitive stuff. You must promise you won’t mention anything I tell you to another soul.”
    “Does your mum still listen at your bedroom door?”
    “Not my mum. The surveillance system.”
    “You’ve a surveillance system in your housing unit?”
    “More than one, and so have you.”
    “I certainly haven’t,” said Will.
    “You certainly have. They’re all over the place. I only found out a week ago. Came across the program when I was running through the Tate’s security systems. There’s an iris-scanner and a thermascan inside every home screen. And how many home screens do you have in your unit?”
    “One in every room,” whispered Will. “But this is outrageous.”
    “Yes, isn’t it? And I’d bet there’d be a revolution if it were made common knowledge. But it’s not very likely to be, is it? I don’t know whether we can be picked up on audio, or not, so I’m not taking any chances. We’ll conduct our conversation in this cupboard.”
    Will shrugged. “This
is
a bit of a shock,” said he.
    “But not as much of a shock as being attacked by a robot.”
    “That was a considerable shock. And it’s what I want to talk to you about.”
    “Because you’ve discovered that it was Babbage.”
    Will’s jaw dropped. “How did you know
that
?” he asked.
    “The robot was sent to kill you, because of what you discovered about the painting. And because you stopped the painting from being destroyed.”
    “What?” went Will. “What?”
    “You are in very big trouble. And I just don’t know what I can do to help you. Which is why I don’t want to be seen or heard talking to you about it. I could have simply refused to answer the door.”
    “But you didn’t.”
    “You’re my best friend, Will. You’re a bit of a weirdo, but I like you. I don’t want to see you get into trouble, let alone get killed.”
    “But