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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
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