rr.eastofealing-第6章

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　not　feel　at　all　thirsty。'
　At　a　little　after　three　p。m。；　Pooley　and　Omally　left　the　Flying　Swan。　As　the　two　friends　strode　off　down　the　Baling　Road；　Neville　the　part…time　barman　shot　home　the　brass　bolts　and　padded　away　to　his　quarters。　The　floor　boards　groaned　suspiciously　beneath　his　tread　but　Neville；　now　buoyed　up　with　a　half…bottle　of　Bells；　closed　his　ears　to　them。
　'Right　then；'　said　Omally；　'to　business；　it　is　yet　three　p。m。　and　we　have　not　earned　a　penny。'
　'I　have　missed　the　bookies；'　said　Jim。　'I　am　a　hundred　thousand　pounds　down　already。'
　'The　day　may　yet　be　saved；　positive　thinking　is　your　man。　To　work　then。'
　Pooley　shook　his　head　and　departed　gloomily　down　Albany　Road；　en　route　for　the　allotment。　Omally　squared　up　his　shoulders　and　entered　Norman's　corner　shop。　Behind　the　counter　stood　Norman；　idly　thumbing　through　a　copy　of　Wet　Girls　In　The　Raw。　Beneath　the　counter　crouched　another　Norman；　chuckling　silently　into　his　hands。
　'Afternoon；　Norman；'　said　Omally。　'Packet　of　reds　if　you　please；　and　a　half…ounce　of　Golden。'
　The　mechanical　confectioner　cleared　his　throat　with　a　curiously　mechanical　coughing　sound。　'Certainly；　sir；'　said　he；　turning　away　to　seek　out　these　articles　from　their　niches。　Below　the　counter　Norman　clicked　his　tongue　in　silent　displeasure。　Above　the　counter　Omally's　hand　had　snaked　into　the　peppermint　rack　and　drew　a　packet　away　to　his　trouser　pocket。　Norman　would　have　to　chalk　that　one　up　to　experience　and　punch　a　few　more　defence　mechanisms　into　the　machine's　puter　banks。　He　scribbled　a　hurried　note　on　to　a　discarded　ice…cream　wrapper　and　awaited　developments。　He　did　not　have　to　wait　long。
　'Stick　them　on　my　slate　please；　Norm；'　said　Omally。
　'Pardon　me；　sir？'
　'On　my　slate；　I'll　settle　up　with　you　later。'
　'I　regret；　sir；　that　I　cannot　allow　you　to　leave　the　premises　without　having　first　paid　for　the　goods。　Such　is　the　way　with　merce；　you　understand。'　Below　the　counter；　Norman　chewed　upon　his　knuckles。　This　was　much　better。　He　patted　his　creation　upon　the　trouser　knee　and　gave　it　the　old　thumbs　up。　'Please　do　not　ask　for　credit；　sir；'　said　the　robot；　'as　a　smack　in　the　mouth　so　often　offends。'
　'What？'　Omally　surveyed　the　shopkeeper　with　open　horror；　this　was　not　the　way　business　was　done。　Not　the　way　it　had　been　done　for　the　last　fifteen　years。　He　did　not　expect　to　actually　leave　the　shop　without　paying；　unless；　of　course；　he　caught　Norman　on　one　of　those　occasions　when　he　had　been　testing　his　home…made　sprout　beer。　But　this？　Omally　pushed　back　his　flat　cap　and　tugged　at　his　curly　forelock。
　Was　this　simply　some　new　ploy　perhaps？　Maybe　Norman　had　been　reading　some　American　magazine　about　self…assertion　or　the　like？　He　would　play　it　along。　'My　knees　ache　something　wicked；'　he　said；　changing　the　subject。
　A　mystified　look　appeared　upon　the　robot…Norman's　face。　'I　am　sorry　to　hear　that；　sir；'　said　he；　sympathetically。
　'It　is　the　cycling　I　believe；'　John　continued；　'constantly　forcing　the　pedals　round　and　around　and　around。　I　would　be　lost　without　the　bike　of　course；　as　it　is　my　only　means　of　transport；　but　I　do　believe　that　the　physical　effort　required　by　the　cycling　is　slowly　crippling　me。'
　The　robot…Norman　shook　his　head　sadly。　'That　is　a　pity；'　he　sighed。
　'Yes；　if　only　there　was　some　alternative　to　be　had　for　the　eternal　pedalling。　Around　and　around　and　around。'　Omally's　hand　made　the　appropriate　movements　in　the　air。　'If　you　know　what　I　mean。'
　The　sub…counter　Norman　nodded；　he　was　already　way　ahead　of　him。　The　duplicate；　however；　seemed　not　to　have　grasped　it　as　yet。　'Could　you　not　possibly　trade　in　the　bike　for　a　car　or　something？'　he　suggested。
　'A　car？'　Omally　looked　askance　at　the　shopkeeper。　'A　car？　How　long　have　you　known　me；　Norman？'
　The　Irishman　did　not　hear　the　purring　of　cogs　and　the　meshing　of　puter　mechanisms　as　the　robot　sought　out　the　answer　to　this　question。
　'Precisely　fifteen　years　two　months　and　nine　days；　he　said。　'You　were；　if　I　recall；　wearing　the　same　cap　and　trousers。'
　'And　do　you　suppose　that　a　man　who　is　still　wearing　this　cap　and　trousers　is　the　sort　of　man　who　could　afford　to　buy　a　car？'
　'I　have　not　given　the　matter　any　thought　as　yet；　sir；'　said　the　robot。　'But　if　you　like　I　will　apply　myself　to　it　whilst　you　are　paying　for　your　purchases。'
　Omally　chewed　upon　his　lip；　he　did　not　like　the　smell　of　this　one　little　bit。　'So　how　goes　the　work　then？'　he　asked；　changing　the　subject　yet　again。
　'Business　is　slack；　as　ever。　The　monthly　returns　are　down　again。'
　'No；　not　the　shop；　I　mean；　your　work；'　Omally　gestured　towards　the　kitchenette　door。　'What　wonders　are　germinating　in　your　little　den？'
　'If　you　will　pardon　me；　sir；'　said　the　robot；　reaching　forward；　'it　is　being　apparent　to　me　that　you　have　no　intention　of　paying　for　your　purchases；　would　you　kindly　hand　them　back？'
　'Norman；　are　you　all　right？'
　The　robot　suddenly　lunged　forward　across　the　counter　and　grasped　Omally　by　a　tweedy　lapel。
　'Be　warned；'　said　the　Irishman。　'I　know　Dimac。'
　Beneath　the　counter；　a　sudden　terror　gripped　the　heart　of　the　hidden　shopkeeper。　He　had　programmed　the　entirety　of　Count　Dante's　Dimac　Manual　of　Marital　Arts　into　his　creation　as　a　precaution　against　it　being　attacked。　Omally's　statement　he　knew　well　enough　to　be　pure　bravado；　but　he　doubted　that　the　robot　would　take　it　as　such。
　'Thus　and　so；'　said　the　duplicate；　drawing　Omally　from　his　feet；　'and　hence。'
　With　a　deft　flick　of　an　automated　wrist；　which　the　legendary　Count　catalogued　as　Move　thirty…two　A；　The　Curl　of　the　Dark　Dragon's　Tail；　Omally　found　himself　catapulted　through　the　air　in　a　flailing　backward　somersault　which　ended　in　sprawling　confusion　amidst　a　tangle　of　magazine　racks　and　out　of　date　chocolate…boxes。
　'You　bastard；'　said　John；　spitting　and　drawing　back　his　sleeves。　Norman　cowered　in　the　darkness；　covering　his　ears。　The　robot　climbed　nimbly　across　the　counter　and　stood　over　the　fallen　Irishman。　'The　tobacco　and　papers；'　said　he；　extending　a　hand。
　'e　now；'　said　John；　'be　reasonable；　what　is　all　this　about？　You　cannot　go　attacking　people　over　a　packet　of　baccy。　Have　you　gone　mad？'　Whilst　the　robot　was　considering　an　answer　to　this　question；　Omally　struck　out　with　a　devastating　blow　to　the　shopkeeper's　groin。　There　was　a　sharp　metallic　clang　and　a　sickening　bone…splintering　report。　'My　God；'　groaned　John；　falling　back　and　gripping　at　his　knee。　'What　are　you　wearing；　a　bloody　cast…iron　codpiece？'
　The　robot　was　on　him　in　a　flash　and；　whilst　Norman　cowered　in　the　darkness　saying　the　rosary　and　praying　desperately　for　the　little　brass　wheel　he　had　so　recently　set　in　motion　to　irrevocably　break　down；　the　martial　duplicate　lifted　his　struggling　prize　high　above　his　head　and　cast　him　once　more　across　the　shop。　This　time；　however；　there　was　little　to　cushion　Omally's　fall。　He　struck　the　shop's　aged　front　door；　carrying　it　from　its　hinges；　and　flew　out　into　the　Baling　Road　to　land　across　the　bonnet　of　a　parked　Morris　Minor。　It　is　certain　that　a　lesser　man　would　not　possibly　have　survived　such　an　assault；　but　Omally；　momentarily　numbed；　merely　slid　down　the　driver's　side　of　the　car　bonnet　and　prepared　once　more　to　e　up　fighting。　'Nuts　and　noses'　his　Da　always　told　him；　and　it　was　obvious　that　nuts　were　at　present　out　of　the　question。
　
　6
　Jim　Pooley　slouched　across　the　St　Mary's　Allotments　dragging　Omally's　pickaxe　and　spade。　At　intervals　he　stopped　and　cursed；　he　was　sure　that　he　had　got　the　worst　part　of　this　deal。　Omally　was　probably　even　now　sitting　in　Norman's　kitchenette　sipping　celery　hock　and　discussing　contracts。　Somehow　John　always　came　out　on　top　and　he　was　left　holding　the　smelly　end　of　the　proverbial　drain　rod。　The　fates　had　never　favoured　the　Pooleys。　In　Jim's　considered　opinion　the　fault　lay　with　some　neolithic　ancestor　who　had　fallen　out　with　God。　It　had　probably　been　over　some　quite　trivial　matter；　but　as　was　well　known；　the　Almighty　does　have　an　exceedingly　long　memory　and　can　be　wantonly　vindictive　once　you've　got　his　back　up。　Pooley　cursed　all　his　ancestors　en　masse　and　threw　in　a　few　of　Omally's　just　to　be　on　the　safe　side。　He　was　making　more　than　a　three…course　meal　out　of　the　prospect　of　a　bit　of　spade　work　and　he　knew