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

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Ron Goulart - The Wicked Cyborg


"Well, my boy, as I recollect, Cosmo had his facility underground,
beneath one of the warehouses yonder," said the reverend, eyes
narrowed in remembering. "Beneath Warehouse 6, I do believe,
though it might have—"
"Hey, Dimchurch, you doddering old pile of creepy green garbage!
Where the gung are you?"
Someone was bellowing in the fog, stomping his way. They both
knew who it was.
"I'd better roll along to my meeting with your Mr. Hohl," said the
lizard priest.
"Are you flapping your ugly green jaw with that skinny, lop-eared
guest of mine? If you are, I'll rend both of you simps into bits and
pieces."
"Has he ever struck you?" the reverend inquired quietly.
"Nope, he only yells."
From out of the fog bounded a large human-type. He was wide in
the shoulders, huge in the chest, hairy. "So! A couple of wall-eyed
ninnies I find here wasting and frittering precious time. Thadeus, go
to your room! As for you, Dimchurch, I've half a mind to crumble
that silly cart of yours into a ball and stuff it up your nork." Hohl
took three more steps, halted, swaying slightly. "Say, whatever
made me have an outburst like this? Forgive me, won't you?" From
a flap-pocket in his one-piece orange worksuit the big man
extracted a blue capsule. After swallowing it, he smiled mildly at
both of them. "Must be my allergies making me cranky once again.
Well, let's trot along to my office, shall we, dear reverend? I've got

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Ron Goulart - The Wicked Cyborg


my butler 'bot brewing a pot of peppermint tea. Your very favorite,
is it not?"
"Why, yes, Mr. Hohl."
Hohl beamed a benevolent smile at Tad before he and the lizard
priest went away into the fog.
Tad waited three long anxious minutes before running across the
fogbound estate to Warehouse 6.
He hadn't expected a robot.
Tad didn't even notice him at first. Most of the light strips
crisscrossing the high ceiling of the large underground lab-
workshop didn't work anymore. There were splotches of light amid
great patches of darkness. "They could be fixed without much
trouble," he said to himself, squinting up at the dusty lengths of
neoplaz. He could do it with a little time and a few tools. Tad was