Mr Hook's Big Black Box

Ferrari Delguessimo: The Smart Option

I hid behind the car, catching my breath as quickly as I could. I didn't know what that thing was, but Trevor's description looked more accurate than anything else I could imagine. It was a giant mechanical thing, and I could imagine that through the smoke that was rising around it I could see gears turning in its chest. It was also running towards us, being flanked by a couple of pickup trucks decorated in the same livery.

My first thought was to get Trevor out of here. It was moving deceptively quickly, and would probably reach the car in thirty seconds or less. If the huge axe-heads on its arms – on the back of its wrists, if you wanted to imagine it had anatomy roughly analogous to a human – were responsible for the rents in the side of the car, then we needed to be well away before it did anything like that again. I pounded on the windshield, cracking the glass more. It was laminate glass, so the shattered fragments were contained between two layers of sturdy film. Once it was broken enough to be flexible, I'd just be able to push it out of its frame, and give Trevor a way out that he could manage even if slightly dazed. I just hoped he could manage the narrow crawl under the bonnet to get out to this side of the car.

I stuck my head up again and saw that the thing – the Golem – was no longer moving towards us. I'd somehow missed the sound of gunfire over the screams and panic from the far side of the field. Two pickups had just shed the tarpaulins over their loads, revealing a couple of men in uniform standing behind heavy pedestal-mounted automatic weapons. The guns let out a pop-pop-pop that sounded distinctly underwhelming from this distance, and I could see shell casings spraying out in a wide fan, landing three or four metres from the vehicle. The Golem turned towards its attackers, drawing the danger away from us for now.

I ducked down, carried on clearing an exit for Trevor. I realised that I was doing exactly what I had been trained to do, what felt like a world away now. Get the agent in charge to safety, and let him make the tactical decisions. The windshield was loose now, so I threw it clear of the car, giving him a space to crawl over. He seemed to be having trouble balancing, and once he had his torso out of the car I reached down and grabbed his arms, pulling him quickly along the damp grass and into cover.

A glance up told me that the military contingent was on our side this time, as if there had been any doubt. The uniforms were USMC fatigues, presumably the Company had managed to get access to some troops who were stationed nearby. Maybe they'd even anticipated something like this, but if that was the case I had even more reason to be angry at the chain of command that sent me in blind.

"We run to the hedge, okay?" I kept my words purely on business. Being angry could wait. Finding the truth could wait. All that mattered right now was getting to somewhere safe, and finding out where my friends were. Trev looked shaken, though, visibly dizzy. I really hoped that wasn't the effects of concussion, or that there wasn't something else wrong.

"Trev, are you listening?" I was practically yelling in his face, "You need to focus, we can get first aid once we're off the front lines. Is something wrong?" He shook his head, and his eyes focused for just a moment. I could guess he was holding himself together through sheer force of will now. There was something wrong, and I couldn't quite tell what it was.

I pointed him towards a small gap in the hedge that bounded this field, and we ran. I let Trevor go first, because I needed to keep him in sight in case he fell. I couldn't be sure of anything right now. He stumbled once or twice, where the smooth surface of the grass concealed irregularities in the ground beneath, but he didn't go down. It was maybe a hundred metres, probably a lot less. But the distance seemed to take forever to cover, every step an achievement.

Once, I stole a glance over my shoulder, and the scene I saw there would have been enough to give me nightmares forever. A mechanical clockwork soldier, bipedal but not really humanoid, striding purposefully towards a truck full of marines. The other truck fired some kind of projectile, a rocket propelled grenade or something. It was right on target , and detonated with a dull boom. But as the smoke cleared, the monster was still coming. A huge chunk had been blown out of its main chassis and left arm, but that wasn't stopping it. The arm was severed, I was sure I could see from the other side of the field. But a crude mechanical claw with an axe blade on the back hung in the air as if nothing was wrong.

We got to the hedge, and barged through. There was a wire fence between the leaves, but the hedgerow had enough solid branches to give us a leg up and get to the other side. Then we were in another field, or some kind of park space. The grass was cut shorter here, and there were a pair of wooden goal posts. No nets, though. A playing field for local kids, from the rows of identical terraced houses I could see on the far side of this field. The last field was probably spare land owned by the council, or a meadow that some farmer couldn't use because of kids taking shortcuts across it all the time. That would explain the tiny gaps in the hedge, where it looked like people had come over before.

"Drugs," Trevor stammered, putting his hand on a fencepost to steady himself, "There's drugs in the air."

"Drugs?" I asked. I could have said more, but I didn't need to. He was ready to tell me anyway.

"Drugs. The Golden Pointer has been looking into a new technique. They tested it out in Rio back in oh-five, and they used it in Helsinki. I'm sure you saw that in a sidebar of the newspapers." I just nodded and waited for him to continue, "We weren't sure if they were going to do the same here, but I think they did. We really should have given you warning of that. Aerosolized intoxicants. Euphorics, sedatives, hallucinogens. Nothing major, you might not even notice. But even the smallest dose can hit you hard when you're on the edge of consciousness anyway. Sprayed all around the attack, when it's really close you might think you can see like a faint mist around the Golem. Maybe a tactical advantage for them, but the main purpose is the news."

"Anyone who reports it," I nodded and filled in the story as I got it, "Anyone goes to the police and reports a giant clockwork robot, they find tiny traces of LSD or whatever in your system. Discredits every witness at once, and nobody's going to look close enough to work out the details."

"Exactly. I think we got a facefull of the stuff when it first attacked, my window was open a crack. And maybe something in their cocktail can exacerbate the effects of an injury. I feel dizzy as hell, and I'm talking like a book because I'm reciting reports, I can't put my own words together. I need to be off the field, right now."

The wasn't too hard. He leaned on me for support, limping unsteadily across the short grass. I got him to the nearest houses, and found a little shop on the end of the row. An old-style corner shop, though from the general state of disrepair I guess it was struggling to compete with the rising tide of local supermarkets. I helped Trevor through the door, and came right up against the concerned stare of an old woman. Her hair was pulled back in a tight white braid, her wrinkled skin tight enough that she could have passed for an animate skeleton in poor light. She was pale, with piercing blue eyes, and a gaze very disapproving of whatever had led me to be walking in with a guy hanging on my shoulder.

"There's been an accident," I cut off any questions with a sweeping dramatic statement. Taking control of the conversation, so she wouldn't think to ask the wrong sort of questions, "Over on the main road, there's at least three cars collided. We swerved to avoid it and my friend's hit his head. I think he might be concussed, can you call an ambulance?"

"Of course," she was suddenly all businesslike, "If there's an accident, I should call the police as well."

"Good idea," I nodded. Didn't want her thinking we were trying to hide from the law, "I think somebody already called them, but it's chaos. We came across the playing field, I think he needs somewhere safe to sit down, and somewhere an ambulance can get to without going through the chaos on the main road." The old woman nodded, and picked up a phone.

I glanced around for a moment. The shop's stock was exactly what I would have expected; a small fridge unit full of pies and sandwiches, cans of drink, newspapers, sweets, and all the odds and ends that people in the neighbourhood wouldn't want to travel too far for. But to the side of the door was a small rack of camping first aid kits, which gave me an idea. I grabbed one, checked the contents list to be sure it contained bandages and splints.

"I'll see if there's anybody I can help. Until the proper authorities get here." I grabbed some cash from my pocket and threw a couple of notes down on the counter. I didn't wait for my change, but some inner voice was telling me that would give exactly the right impression.

"You rest," I said sternly to Trevor, "This lady can look after you while I see what else I can do. If we get separated, call me when you know what hospital you're in, right? I'll make sure Michelle knows you're okay."

"Thanks, Jessie," he smiled as I got back to the door. "You're a lifesaver."