"Ron Goulart - The Wicked Cyborg" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goulart Ron)

"This is truly going to be a wonderful experience for you," Cousin
Joshua promised. "A chance to learn about many of our better-
selling Rhymer Industries products."
"You mean Foghill is staffed entirely with robots, androids and


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Ron Goulart - The Wicked Cyborg


servos?"
"Not entirely, lad. There is the estate manager, Mr. Hohl. He's
human."
"I wouldn't exactly classify Hohl as human," said Cousin Cornelia.


Chapter 2

Tad found the robot, the robot which would change everything, late
in the afternoon of his thirteenth day at Foghill. He knew for certain
it was the thirteenth day because he was counting off each long
bleak and lonesome day he spent at the place. He had been
promised he'd be allowed to start school again when the next
semester started at the area academy. That was still twenty-six days
up ahead.
Foghill came by its name because, simply, it sat on a low dismal hill
and was almost continually shrouded in thick prickly fog. High
black trees filled most of the ten acres inside the high stone walls
which closed in the estate grounds. A swampy lake lay at the foot of
the hill and beyond that rose more trees, mile after dreary mile, on
the rare day when you could see them at all, of stiff dark-limbed
dark-leafed trees.
The only visitor to Foghill during Tad's first thirteen days was
Reverend Dimchurch. A very old, very thin lizard man, the reverend
was in charge of the Church of Aggressive Beatitude in Fog
Hollow, some fifteen miles to the South. He wore a faded purple
three-piece priest suit, traveled in a small gunmetal robotcart.


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Ron Goulart - The Wicked Cyborg


On this thirteenth day the reverend came rolling through the high
gates of Foghill in mid-afternoon. He had a purple scarf wrapped
around his scaly green neck. "Bit of a chill in the air today, eh?" he
remarked when he noticed Tad wandering on a nearby path.
"Same as always." Tad was moping in the vicinity of one of the
long-abandoned experimental greenhouses.
Reverend Dimchurch rolled off the gritty path and then across the