rr.eastofealing-第25部分

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　'Ha；'　said　Holmes；　nodding　his　head；　'and　now　would　you　like　me　to　bring　you　the　automaton；　that　you　might　inspect　his　workings　at　first　hand？'
　'Very　much。　Do　you　consider　that　such　might　be　achieved　in　safety？'
　'Certainly；　I　took　the　liberty　of　following　the　ample　trail　he　left；　after　my　interview　with　Norman。　He　is　holed　up　on　the　allotment。'
　'Holed　up？'
　'Certainly；　in　Mr　Omally's　shed。　If　I　can　catch　him　unawares　I　shall　bring　him　here　at　gunpoint。　Although　I　must　confess　to　a　certain　bafflement　here。　How　might　it　be　that　an　automaton　who　can　leap　without　effort　or　apparent　harm　through　ceilings　and　walls；　fears　the　simple　bullet？'
　'Ha；　yourself！'　said　Professor　Slobe。　'You　have　your　secrets　and　I　have　mine。　Go　then；　with　my　blessing；　but　stay　upon　your　guard。　Take　no　unnecessary　risks。'
　'Natcho；'　said　Sherlock　Holmes；　turning　as　he　left　to　make　a　gesture　which　all　lovers　of　the　New　York　television　cop　genre　know　to　be　the　'soul　fist'。
　'Natcho？'　Professor　Slobe　shook　his　old　head　and　returned　once　more　to　his　work。
　
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　Having　slipped　away　to　Jack　Lane's　for　a　pint　or　three　of　non…takeover…brewery　beer；　Pooley　and　Omally　now　loped　down　a　bunting　bedecked　Sprite　Street。　To　either　side；　front　gardens　bulged　with　sections　of　the　home…made　floats　destined　to　join　the　grand　carnival　procession　of　this　year's　Festival　which；　meaningless　as　it　now　appeared；　showed　every　sign　of　going　on　regardless。　Exactly　what　the　theme　of　the　parade　was；　neither　man　very　much　cared。　As　they　ambled　along　they　muttered　away　to　one　another　in　muted；　if　urgent；　tones。
　'As　I　see　it；'　mumbled　John；　'we　have　few　options　left　open　to　us　at　present。　If　the　end　of　civilization　is　approaching　there　is　little；　if　anything；　we　can　do　about　it。'
　'But　what　about　all　my　millions？'　Jim　plained。　'I　thought　that　the　holders　of　the　world's　wealth　always　had　it　up　and　away　on　their　hand…mades　and　sailed　their　luxury　yachts　into　the　sunset　at　the　merest　mention　of　impending　doom。'
　'What；　off　down　the　canal　you　fancy？'
　'Well；　somewhere；　surely？　Let　us　at　least　go　down　with　Soap　and　weather　it　out　until　the　troubles　are　over。'
　'I　had　considered　that；　but　you　will　recall　that　it　is　very　dark　down　there　in　his　neck　of　the　woods。　And　darkness　would　seem　to　be　the　keynote　of　this　whole　insane　concerto。'
　'So　what　do　we　do　then？'
　The　two　stopped　on　the　corner　of　Abaddon　Street　and　stood　a　moment；　gazing　up　at　the　great　black　monolith　towering　above　them。
　'I　have　been　giving　this　matter　a　great　deal　of　thought　and　I　think　I　have　e　up　with　an　answer。'
　'It　better　be　a　goody。'
　'It　is；　but　not　here。　Walls　have　ears　as　they　say。　Let　us　hasten　away　to　a　place　of　privacy　and　discuss　this　matter。'
　It　did　not　take　a　child　of　six　to　put　the　necessary　two　and　two　together　and　e　up　with　Omally's　suggestion　for　a　likely　conspiratorial　hideaway。　'My　hut；'　said　John。
　The　two　men　strode　over　the　allotments；　each　alone　with　his　particular　thoughts。　The　first　inkling　that　anything　of　a　more　untoward　nature　than　was　now　the　mon　norm　was　currently　on　the　go　thereabouts　hit　them　like　the　proverbial　bolt　from　the　blue。　The　sound　of　gunfire　suddenly　rattled　their　eardrums；　and　the　unexpected　sight　of　Omally's　corrugated　iron　roof　rising　from　its　mountings　and　ing　rapidly　in　their　direction　put　new　life　into　their　feet。
　'Run　for　your　life；'　yelled　Omally。
　'I　am　already；　get　out　of　my　way。'
　The　roof　smashed　to　earth；　sparing　them　by　inches。　The　cause　of　the　shed's　destruction　tumbled　down　to　bowl　over　and　over　between　them。　Norman's　duplicate　rose　to　his　feet　and　glared　back　towards　the　ruined　hut。　Sherlock　Holmes　appeared　at　the　doorway　wielding　his　gun。
　'Not　again。'　Pooley　crawled　away　on　all　fours；　seeking　safety。
　'Stop　him；'　cried　Sherlock　Holmes。
　'With　the　corner　up；　pal。'
　'Hold　hard　or　I　fire。'
　Norman's　duplicate　turned　upon　his　attacker。　He　snatched　up　a　ten…gallon　oil…drum　which　was　harmlessly　serving　its　time　as　a　water…butt　and　raised　it　above　his　head。　Holmes　stood　his　ground；　feet　planted　firmly　apart；　both　hands　upon　his　weapon。　'This　is　a　Magnum　Forty…four；'　he　said；　'biggest　handgun　in　the　world；　and　can　blow　your　head　clean　off　your　shoulders。'
　'He　has　definitely　been　watching　too　many　videos；'　whispered　Omally　as　he　crawled　over　to　Pooley's　place　of　safety。
　'Now　I　know　what　you're　thinking；'　Holmes　continued；　'you're　thinking；　in　all　that　motion　did　he　fire　five　shots　or　six；　that's　what　you're　thinking；　isn't　it；　punk？'
　'I　much　preferred　the　Victorian　approach；'　said　Jim　Pooley。
　Norman's　robot　stiffened；　he　was　not　adverse　to　watching　the　occasional　Glint　Eastwood　movie　himself　on　Norman's　home…made　video。
　'Do　you　know；　in　all　the　excitement　I'm　not　really　sure　myself？　So　what　do　you　say；　punk？'
　The　mechanical　punk；　who　had　seen　that　particular　film　six　times　said；　'It's　a　fair　cop；　governor；'　and　raised　its　hands。
　'Up　against　the　wall　and　spread'm　mother；'　cried　Sherlock　Holmes；　causing　Sir　Arthur　Conan　Doyle　to　veritably　spin　in　his　grave。
　Not　too　long　later；　Jim　Pooley；　John　Omally；　and　Mr　Sherlock　Holmes；　this　time　acpanied　by　a　near…perfect　facsimile　of　a　highly…regarded　local　shopkeeper；　entered　the　Professor's　study。　The　scholar　looked　up　from　his　desk　and　turned　about　in　his　chair。　'You　made　very　short　work　of　that；'　he　said。　'Good　afternoon；　Norman。'
　The　mechanical　shopkeeper　regarded　the　Professor　as　if　he　was　guano　on　a　hat…brim。　'You　would　do　well　to　leave　well　enough　alone；'　said　he。
　Professor　Slobe　turned　up　his　palms。　'Please　be　seated；　I　have　no　wish　to　detain　you　longer　than　necessary。　I　merely　seek　a　few　answers　to　certain　pressing　questions。'
　The　duplicate　clutched　at　his　chest。　'To　take　away　my　life；　more　likely。'
　'No；　no；　I　swear。　Please　be　seated。'　Professor　Slobe　turned　to　his　other　guests。　'Please　avail　yourselves；　gentlemen；　Norman　and　I　have　much　to　speak　of。'
　Holmes　held　his　gun　pointing　steadily　towards　the　robot's　spinning　heart。　'You　counselled　care；　Professor；'　said　he；　'and　now　it　is　my　turn。'
　'A　degree　of　trust　must　exist；　Holmes；　kindly　put　aside　your　gun。'
　Holmes　did　so。　Pooley　and　Omally　fought　awhile　over　the　decanter　and　finally　came　to　an　agreement。
　'It　is　of　the　greatest　importance　that　we　speak　with　each　other；'　Professor　Slobe　told　the　robot。　'Please　believe　that　I　wish　you　no　harm。　Will　you　play　straight　with　me？'
　'I　will；　sir；　but　have　a　care　for　him。　The　man　is　clearly　mad。　Calls　himself　Sherlock　Holmes　but　knows　not　a　thing　of　the　thirty…nine　steps。　I　would　have　e　to　you　of　my　own　accord。'
　'Really？'
　'Oh　yes。'　The　robot　cleared　his　throat　with　a　curiously　mechanical　coughing　sound　which　sent　the　wind　up　Pooley　and　Omally。　'Things　cannot　be　allowed　to　continue　as　they　are。'
　Professor　Slobe　raised　his　eyebrows。　'You　are　aware　of　that？'
　'I　can　hear　them　talking。　They　gnaw　at　my　brain　but　I　will　not　allow　them　ingress。　I　am　Norman's　man　and　sworn　by　the　bond　of　birth　to　protect　him。'
　'Your　loyalty　is　mendable。'
　'I　am　sworn　to　serve　mankind。'
　'From　behind　a　counter；'　sneered　Omally。
　The　robot　nodded　grimly。　'It　sounded　a　little　more　noble　the　way　I　put　it；　but　no　matter；　there　is　little　enough　of　mankind　now　left　to　serve。　The　shop　doorbell　is　silent　the　better　part　of　the　day。　Trade　declines；　I　rarely　punch　an　order　into　the　terminal；　and　when　I　do；　the　new　stocks　which　finally　arrive　are　further　foreshortened。　The　master　puter　now　runs　it　all。　Mankind　is　on　the　wane；　the　new　order　prevails；　night　falls　upon　Brentford　and　the　world。　It　is　the　ing　of　Ragnorok。　Gotterdammerung。'
　'Stick　the　Laurence　Olivier　circuits　into　override；　you　clockwork　clown；'　said　John　Vincent　Omally；　Man　of　Earth。
　'How　would　you　like　me　to　fill　your　mouth　with　boot？'　the　robot　enquired。
　'Gentlemen；　gentlemen；'　said　Professor　Slobe；　'let　us　have　a　little　decorum　please。'
　'Well；　he's　had　my　shed　down；'　Omally　plained。　'For　one　sworn　to　protect　mankind　he's　about　as　much　use　as　a　nipple　on　a…'
　'Quite　so；　John。　Please　be　calm；　we　will　achieve　nothing　by　fighting　amongst　ourselves。　We　must　all　pull　together。'
　'You　can　pull　whatever　you　want；'　said　the　robot；　'but　take　it　from　me；　you　had　better　start　with　your　fingers。　Unless　you　can　e　up　with　something　pretty　special；　pretty　snappish；　then　you　blokes　are　banjoed；　get　my　meaning；　F。。。U。。。C。。。'
　'Language；　please；'　said　Professor　Slobe。　'I　think　we　catch　your　drift。　Something　pretty　special　was　what　I　had　in　mind。'
　
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　'AAAAOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOO。。。　o。。。　UH？'
　Neville　the　part…time　barman　awoke　after　an　absence　of　some　eleven　chapters。　Scorning　the　tried　and　tested　'Where　am　I？'　he　settled　for　'Why　have　I　got　a　light　bulb　stuck　up　my　left　nostril？'　which　was　at　least　original。　His　eyes　rolled　up　towards　the　ceiling；　several　inches　above　his　face；　and　a　great　hand　rose　to　brush　away　the　obstruction　blocking　one　side　of　his　nose。　This　bed　is　a　bit　high；　thought　Neville。　But　then　the　dreadful　memories　of　his　most　despicable　situation　came　flooding　back　in　a　tidal　wave　of　adipose　tissue。
　'The　fat！'　groaned　Neville；　his　voice　rumbling　up　from　the　depths　of　his　stomach　to　shiver　the　ceiling　above。　'The　terrible　fat！'　He　tried　to　move　his　great