Chronicles of Isambard Smith 05 - End of Empires Read Online Free PDF

curious droning sound, not unlike dropped bagpipes, as its motor activated.
    The digging robot looked around. The bundle of sensors that served it as a head swung to cover Smith, assessed him and decided that he was well worth smashing.
    Fitzroy ran out of the building and took shots at the robot with her service pistol. Several guards followed her. Bullets pinged off its sides, chipping the yellow paint.
    Smith managed to stuff one of the rockets into the launcher. He then realised that he had put it explosive-end-first and tried to fish it out. The robot took a lumbering step towards him, flexing its earth-scoops.
    Suruk stepped in front of Smith. For a moment he studied the construction-bot, his spear raised to throw. ‘Ominous,’ he observed, and he lowered the spear. He picked up one of the spare rockets instead.
    Suruk struck the ground with the end of the rocket to activate it, causing Smith a sudden rearrangement in his colon. The alien looked at the rocket, shrugged and hurled it at the robot.
    The resulting explosion threw Smith onto his back. Slowly, he sat up and rubbed his head. A cloud of smoke, formerly his eyebrows, hung around his face. Somewhere in the distance, Captain Fitzroy was demanding to know why Suruk couldn’t wait for an orbital bombardment like any normal person, and Suruk was laughing. The robot had disappeared.
    He heard footsteps, and saw Rhianna’s sandals next to him. She helped him to his feet. ‘Whoa,’ Rhianna said, surveying the scene, ‘that is a total mess.’
    * * *
    The police arrived a few minutes later. Or at least one of them did: a tall, M’Lak on a huge motorcycle. He stopped in a flurry of gravel and dismounted, spindly in leathers. Under his visor, his mandibles parted to reveal a scowling mouth like a scar. ‘I came here to enforce the law and shoot people. And I’m all out of law.’
    ‘Hello,’ Smith said.
    ‘Greetings,’ Suruk added. ‘ Jaizeh, M’Lak .’
    ‘Yeah. I’m Callarn the Enforcer, detective inspector of Ravnavar. Who are you?’
    ‘I’m Captain Isambard Smith. This is Polly Carveth, android pilot, Rhianna Mitchell, freelance herbalist, and Suruk the Slayer, who is, er –’
    ‘I kill everything,’ Suruk explained. ‘Legally, mind you.’
    Callarn the Enforcer hooked his thumbs over his belt. ‘You see what happened here?’
    ‘Yes.’ Smith explained the situation, leaving out any reference to the Service. Glancing at the building behind him, he realised that doing so was wise: all the other players of Warro seemed to have sneaked out the back.
    ‘So, you and a bunch of other hardened operatives just happened to be here, and this automated digger attacked you, shouting slogans about freeing Ravnavar from human rule. A likely story.’ Callarn closed his notebook. ‘Well, mind how you go.’
    ‘What?’ Carveth said. ‘That’s it?’
    ‘It’s a trick,’ Rhianna whispered, rather loudly for Smith’s taste. ‘I remember this time the police arrested me for drug possession. They rolled up when I least expected it, which was kind of ironic, because I rolled up when they were least expecting it. They said, “We’re inquiring into illegal drugs,” and so I said “Hey, me too. Have you got any?” Fascists.’
    ‘Well,’ Callarn said, ‘having investigated the case, I conclude that all the crime is over. You can go about your lives again.’
    Smith said, ‘Not wanting to tell you your job, sir, but shouldn’t you carry out some sort of investigation? Find the perpetrators, perhaps?’
    The inspector shrugged. ‘Not round here. Thing is, we don’t get much lawbreaking in the M’Lak sector. We don’t have many laws, either. Kind’ve keeps things simple. But let me know if you see any crime. Then I’ll bust it.’ He opened his jacket. An immense revolver stretched from his armpit to halfway down his hip. ‘Markham and Briggs Civiliser.’
    ‘I’ve got one of those!’ Smith put in, and then wondered if that was a good