rr.eastofealing-第44章

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red　on。　Omally　wore　the　orange　jersey。　The　tour　de　Brentford　was　very　much　on　the　go。
　'Get　a　move　on；　your　Popeship；　they're　closing　for　the　kill。'
　John　swung　away　once　more；　but　the　road…blocks　were　up。　He　skidded　about；　nearly　losing　Pooley；　who　uttered　many　words　of　justifiable　profanity；　and　made　hurried　tracks　towards　the　door。　The　androids　encircled　them；　black　boxes　spurting　fire。　The　circle　was　closing　fast　and　every　avenue　of　escape　was　blocked　as　soon　as　it　was　entered。　Omally　drew　Marchant　to　a　shivering　halt；　depositing　Pooley　on　the　deck。　'If　you　know　how　to　fly；'　he　told　his　bike；　'now　would　be　the　time　to　impress　me。'　Sadly；　the　old　battered　sit…up…and…beg　showed　no　inclination　whatsoever　towards　sudden　levitation。　'Well；'　said　John；　'one　must　never　ask　too　much　of　a　bike。'
　Pooley　rose　shakily　to　his　feet。　To　every　side　loomed　a　sea　of　snarling　faces；　surrounding　them　in　an　unbreakable　circle。　It　was　many　many　faces　deep；　and　none　looked　amenable　to　a　bloodless　surrender。
　'Goodbye；　John；'　said　Jim；　'I　never　knew　a　better　friend。'
　'Goodbye；　Jim。'　Omally　pressed　his　hand　into　that　of　his　lifelong　panion；　a　tear　rose　in　a　clear　blue　eye。　'We'll　go　down　fighting　at　least。'
　'At　the　very　least。'　Pooley　raised　his　fists。　'Beware；'　he　cried；　'this　man　knows　Dimac；　the　deadliest　martial　art　known　to。。。　well；　to　the　two　of　us　any　way。'
　The　crowd　rose　up　as　if　drawing　its　collective　sulphurous　breath；　and　fell　upon　them；　cruel　hands　snatched　down；　anxious　to　destroy；　to　draw　out　the　life。　Omally　struck　where　he　could　but　the　blows　rained　down　upon　him；　driving　him　to　his　knees。　Pooley　could　manage　but　one　last；　two…fingered　expression　of　defiance　before　he　was　dashed　to　the　deck。　The　writhing　mob　poured　forward；　thrashing　and　screaming；　and　it　seemed　that　nothing　less　than　a　very　timely　miracle　could　save　the　dynamic　duo　now。
　A　great　tremor　rushed　across　the　floor　of　the　unholy　cathedral。　The　lynch　mob　drew　back　in　sudden　horror；　the　black　marble　surface　upon　which　they　stood　was　being　jarred　as　if　by　some　great　force　battering　up　at　it。　Pooley　and　Omally　cowered　as　the　floor　moved　beneath　them。　A　great　crack　tore　open；　tumbling　androids　to　either　side　of　it。　Shards　of　sparkling　marble　shot　up　like　some　black　volcanic　eruption。　An　enormous　fist　thrust　up　from　the　depths。　Another　followed　and；　as　the　crowd　backed　into　a　growing　circle；　crying　and　pointing；　a　head　and　shoulders　emerged　from　the　destruction；　rising　noble　and　titanic　amongst　the　debris。
　'Fe。。。　Fi。。。　Fo。。。　Fum。'　As　a　great　section　of　flooring　smashed　aside；　Neville　scrambled　up　through　the　opening。　He　was　bloody　and　scarred；　with　great　wounds　upon　his　arms　and　legs；　but　his　face　bore　an　old　nobility。　He　was　indeed　a　Titan；　a　god　of　olden　Earth。　Yes；　there　were　giants　in　the　Earth　in　those　days；　and　also　after　that。　Neville　stood；　a　Hercules　in　soiled　Y…fronts。　'All　right；'　he　cried。　'Who　wants　a　fight　then？'
　'Not　us；'　cried　Jim　Pooley。
　'Hello；　lads；'　said　the　bulging　barman；　sighting　the　cringing　twosome；　and　flexing　a　selection　of　chest　muscles。　'You　appear　to　be　somewhat　unfairly　outnumbered。'
　'A　bit　of　assistance　would　not　go　amiss。'
　Neville　flexed　shoulders　which　had　previously　only　been　flexed　by　the　Incredible　Hulk；　and　even　then　to　a　minor　degree。
　'The　rest　has　done　him　good；'　said　John。　'He　looks　well　on　it。'
　Amidst　a　roar　of　green　flame；　Cerberus；　the　hound　of　hell；　sprang　up　from　the　netherworld　beneath　to　confront　the　barman。　Its　three　heads；　one　now　shredded　and　dangling；　worked　and　snapped；　saliva　drooled　from　fanged　jaws；　and　the　stench　of　brimstone　filled　the　already　overloaded　air。　The　scorpion　tail　flicked　and　dived。　'e　on；　doggy；'　called　the　barman。　'Time　for　a　trip　down　to　the　vet's！'　The　creature　launched　itself　towards　him；　passing　over　two　terrified　human　professional　cowerers。　Neville　caught　it　by　a　throat　and　the　two　crashed　back　into　the　crowd。
　'On　your　toes；　Jim；'　called　Omally。　'I　see　a　small　ray　of　light。'　Shrinking　and　flinching；　he　and　Jim　edged　away。
　Neville　swung　the　beast　about；　bringing　down　a　score　of　robots。　Others　snatched　at　him　but　he　swept　them　aside。　Above；　the　mainframe　pulsed　and　flashed；　the　moving　lights　forming　obscene　images。　Pooley　and　Omally　backed　towards　it；　the　exit　was　thoroughly　blocked　and　the　only　way　seemed　like　up。
　Neville　drove　his　fist　through　a　plasticized　face；　sending　up　a　cascade　of　synthetic　blood。　The　hound　of　hell　fell　upon　him　once　more　but　he　tore　down　a　lower　jaw　with　a　rending　of　bone　and　gristle。　He　was　quite　ing　into　his　own。
　Pooley　and　Omally　gained　a　first　staircase。　'Not　more　stairs；'　gasped　Jim。
　'Pull　the　plugs　out；'　screamed　Omally。　'Pull　it　to　pieces。　Follow　me。'　He　thundered　up　the　steps　on　to　the　first　gantry。　A　vista　of　housed　microcircuits　met　his　gaze。　Omally　thrust　forth　his　hand　and　tore　out　a　drawered　section；　punching　the　things　free。　Pooley　followed　suit。　Faces　turned　from　the　melee　below；　a　group　of　androids　detached　themselves　from　the　throng。　Pooley　ran　along；　drawing　out　random　circuit　patterns。　Omally　followed　on；　punching　them　from　their　housings。　They　gained　the　second　level。　Ahead　stood　a　robot　barring　their　way。　'You　duck；　I'll　hit　it。'　Omally　pressed　Jim　forward。　The　robot　swung　its　hand　at　him　but　Jim　ducked　out　of　reach；　grabbing　at　the　knees。　Omally　drove　a　fist　over　his　diving　back；　and　the　thing　lurched　off　the　gantry　to　fall　into　the　chaos　which　now　reigned　below。
　Neville　stood　defiant；　taking　on　all　ers。　Cerberus　with　but　one　head　left　snarling；　snapped　at　his　ankles。　A　ring　of　shattered　pseudo…corpses　surrounded　the　batants。　John　and　Jim　gained　the　third　level。　They　were　making　something　of　an　art　out　of　dispatching　the　face…workers　to　whatever　fate　their　microchipped　god　had　in　store　for　them。
　'Pull　it　to　pieces；　Jimmy　boy。'
　'I'm　pulling；　I'm　pulling。'　Jim　ran　forward；　dragging　out　segments；　Omally　came　behind；　kicking　and　punching。　Microcircuits　fell　like　evil　snow　upon　the　ferocious　crowd　welling　beneath。　Up　another　stairway　and　beyond。
　Below　them　the　lights　exhibited　a　jumbled　confusion。　Great　battle　waged　upon　the　floor。　Neville　stood　head　and　shoulders；　and　a　good　deal　more；　above　the　great　ring　of　his　attackers。　Blue　fire　sparkled　as　they　strove　to　apply　their　killing　weapons　to　his　naked　flesh；　but　Neville　snatched　out　the　arms　from　their　silicone　sockets　and　flung　them　high　over　his　head。　Cerberus　had　barked　his　last；　but　from　the　great　chasm　yawning　in　the　marble　floor　other　horrors　spilled；　spinning　and　thrashing；　whirling　out　of　the　pit。　Barbs　and　spines；　close　balls　of　fur；　animals　and　swollen　insects　with　the　heads　of　infants。　A　darkness　was　filling　the　air；　as　if　it　were　a　palpable　thing；　felt　as　much　as　seen。　A　fog　of　hard　night。
　'Bandits　at　six　o'clock；'　shouted　Pooley。　'Get　a　move　on；　John。'
　Omally　applied　his　boot　to　the　face　of　a　pursuer　as　it　loomed　up　from　a　stairwell。　'Onward　and　upward；　Jimmy。'
　The　two　men　struggled　in　an　unreal　twilight　world。　Below；　Neville's　great　war　cries　and　the　dull　thuds　of　falling；　broken　bodies　mingled　with　the　unholy　screechings　of　the　monstrous　obscenities　pouring　up　from　the　pit。　The　siren　had　ceased　its　banshee　wail　but　voices　issued　from　the　puter's　mainframe；　sighing　and　gasping　from　the　circuitry；　whispering　in　a　thousand　tongues；　few　ever　those　of　man。　A　hand　fastened　about　Pooley's　ankle；　drawing　him　down。　Omally　turned；　sensing　rather　than　seeing　his　friend's　plight。　He　wrenched　out　a　drawer…load　of　circuits　and　swung　it　like　an　axe；　severing　the　clinging　hand　at　the　wrist。　The　thing　remained　in　its　deathlock　about　Jim's　ankle；　but　the　hero　clambered　on。
　They　were　by　now　high　upon　the　puter's　great　face。　The　air　was　thin　but　sulphurous。　John　clutched　at　his　chest　and　strained　to　draw　breath。　Pooley　leant　upon　his　shoulder；　coughing　and　gasping。　'We're　running　out　of　stairs；'　he　croaked。　Above　them　now　was　nothing　but　darkness。　They　stood　engulfed　in　it；　breathing　it。　The　sounds　of　battle　echoed　below　but　nought　could　now　be　seen　of　the　conflict。　'You　don't　happen　to　see　any　daylight　lurking　above？'　Jim　asked。　'Fast　running　out　of　wind　this　man。'
　'I　can　see　sod　all。　Get　off　there。'　A　hand　had　John　by　the　trouser　cuff。　H