Traction City Read Online Free PDF

wires and coils and dials, that it’s hard to tell.
    â€œIs there a problem, sergeant?” asks the leader, a senior Guildsman, his eyes invisible behind faceted goggles.
    Anders steps forward, half hoping that in the Sternstacks murk these newcomers won’t notice Fang. But they have noticed her, of course; the eyes of the three gunmen are creeping all over her. He chooses his reply with care. The Guild of Engineers started out as London’s mechanics and technicians, but on a mobile city mechanics and technicians are men of great importance, and over the centuries the Engineers have come to wield huge power. Upsetting them could end a man’s career.
    â€œMurder, sir,” he says. “Three scavengers dead.”
    â€œAnd the girl?” asks the Engineer, goggles glittering like flies’ eyes as he swings them towards Fang.
    â€œA witness, sir, assisting us with our enquiries.”
    The goggles swing back to Anders. “These Scavengers. Were they mutilated?”
    â€œTheir right hands had been taken off, sir.”
    â€œMmm,” says the Engineer. Behind him the man with the big gun-thing shifts position, adjusting its weight. The others stand still as statues (which isn’t very still on London’s shuddery decks). Black smuts settle on their white coats; they are speckled like Dalmatians.
    â€œYou may return to your station,” the Engineer says. “We have this situation under control. Your witness will remain with us.”
    From the corner of his eye Anders see Fang turn her face to look at him. She’s wondering what he’ll do. He’s wondering the same thing himself. It’s a surprise when he hears himself say, “No.”
    The Engineer raises one well-pruned eyebrow.
    â€œShe’s in my custody.” says Anders. “For her own protection.”
    â€œYou have questioned her?” asks the Engineer.
    â€œOh, we know about the Stalker, sir.”
    The Engineer doesn’t so much as twitch a nostril. They must be great poker players, Anders thinks, if games of poker are permitted in that cheerless Engineerium of theirs. But his men start at that word, “Stalker”.
    â€œI didn’t realize the Engineers knew about it, sir.”
    â€œThe Guild of Engineers know everything,” the Engineer snaps. “One of our survey teams encountered the creature known as the Collector three weeks ago, when London first entered these hills. We subdued it and brought it aboard. We were keeping it under observation in one of the old Wombs.”
    â€œNot keeping it under very good observation, were you?” splutters Nutter. “It’s killed a dozen men on Base Tier. . .”
    â€œThat was part of the experiment,” says the Engineer. “We wished to see how it behaved in the mobile-urban environment. London is no longer the largest or fastest city in the Great Hunting Ground. If we are to compete with the new megalopolises we may need to adjust our hunting strategies. If we could reproduce these Stalkers and insert them into the engine districts of prey cities they could prove useful. However, this Stalker has proved less controllable than we had hoped. We have lost contact with the Engineers who we put into Mortlake to study it. It has been decided to shut down the experiment.”
    â€œThat contraption will kill it?” asks Anders, pointing at the big gun-thing.
    â€œIt is already dead.” The Engineer permits himself a cold smile. “As are you, sergeant. We cannot have mere policemen prying into the business of our Guild.”
    He steps aside. The two gunmen behind him raise their weapons. Anders tries to think of something to say and finds that he is empty of words. But before the Engineers can shoot, something comes trundling at them down the slope of the deck, a small thing, cylindrical, rattling and clanking as it rolls into the open space between Engineers and