Killing the Machine (Aboard the Great Iron Horse Book 2)
Page 24
He raised the nightstick, but there came a thumping noise behind them. The constable spun around to see Socrates standing at the mouth of the alley. For a moment, no one spoke. Shepp glanced at the old man and then back at Socrates. After a moment, he found his courage and took a step forward, brandishing his nightstick.
“I was hoping I would see you again,” he said.
Socrates glared at him, silent, rigidly motionless in a way that sent chills down the constable’s spine. Slowly, Socrates reached into his vest and pulled the badge out of his pocket. He held it up in the firelight, so Shepp could see.
“What is that?” the constable said. “You must be kidding me.”
“Not kidding,” said Socrates. “I’ve been deputized. I’m one of you now.”
Shepp roared with laughter. “A toy monkey! They’ve made a constable out of a toy monkey. Shouldn’t you be wearing a hat and riding a tricycle? What do you think you’re going to do with that badge, anyway?”
“I’m going to arrest you.”
Shepp narrowed his eyes and tapped his nightstick against his palm. “That’s enough out of you, monkey. When I’m done with you, no one will be able to put the pieces back together.”
The constable raised his club and struck at Socrates, but he found his arm frozen in midair. Socrates had caught him by the wrist. He began to squeeze and Shepp cried out, dropping the nightstick.
“What do you want from me?” the constable cried. “This ain’t about you!”
“You hurt someone I care about,” Socrates growled.
“What, the girl? I didn’t hurt her!”
“You attacked her. You testified falsely against her, and would have seen her imprisoned, or worse.” Socrates’ voice rose as he spoke. In a rage, he caught Shepp by the front of his coat with one hand and lifted him into the air. “The people of this city put their trust in you! They look to you as a protector, but you use your position of power to abuse them. You are a thief, a liar, and a coward!”
Shepp’s right arm snaked under the back of his jacket. Brass knuckles glinted in the firelight as the constable took a swing at Socrates. He struck a glancing blow on the side of the gorilla’s head. The gears inside Socrates’ skull clattered, and his eyes blinked wildly. He dropped Shepp, and took a halting step backwards.
“I should’ve killed that whore!” Shepp shouted. “I should’ve slit her wide open when I had the chance.”
He took another swing at Socrates, delivering a solid roundhouse punch to the side of the gorilla’s jaw. The brass knuckles ripped through the fur, exposing smooth brass. Socrates flew into a rage, baring his fangs and roaring like a wild beast. He caught the constable up in both hands, lifted the man over his head, and threw him like a ragdoll. Shepp flew over the fire and slammed violently into the alley wall. There was a low, stomach-churning crack as his neck snapped, and the constable’s limp body dropped to the snowy pavestones. He lay silent, mouth gaping in a scream that never came, eyes wide, fixed on some distant point among the stars.
The old beggar limped over to the lifeless corpse. The fire crackled. Shadows danced on the wall.
“You killed him,” the old man said in a hoarse voice. “You killed Shepp!”
“You are mistaken,” Socrates said, his lip curling in a snarl. “I am a machine. A machine cannot kill a man!” He took a step forward, and the beggar dropped to his knees. He threw his hands in the air.
“Have mercy!” he cried. “Please, I am but a sick old man!”
Socrates caught him by the collar and lifted him into the air, with their faces an inch apart. “Mercy? What mercy have you ever shown old man? I’ve heard your words, dripping like poison from your lips. I have listened to your claims of innocence and helplessness, but I know what you truly are. You are just like the constable, and you deserve an equal share in his fate.”
“No, please! Please don’t kill me.”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“I am helpless. Isn’t it wrong to take advantage of the weak and the elderly? It would be immoral! Isn’t that what they say?”
“Why should I care about such things? You and your ilk lit the fire of vengeance that burns within me. Why should I not quench it with your blood? Would that not be justice?”
The beggar’s eyes rolled. He wailed helplessly, the sound of his voice echoing between the cold brick walls. Socrates dropped him roughly to the ground, and the old man’s shaking legs went out from underneath him.
“Blur cold swallow, Blink seventy-nine. Process terminated.”
“What?”
Socrates paused, a dark grimace twisting his face as he tried to sort his thoughts. “I will allow you to live,” he said in rumbling voice, “so that you may spread a message for me. Tell your friends that the law is no longer an instrument of their malfeasance. Tell them the Iron Horse will be back soon, and let them know what will happen when I return.”
“When will that be?” said the old man, his eyes wide, his face deathly pale.
“After I kill another thief.”
Socrates leapt to the wall, caught a ledge, and rebounded across the alley. He zigzagged up to the rooftop in a flash and disappeared over the edge. The old man stared after him, his body quaking with fear, the tiny dagger in the palm of his hand entirely forgotten.
Chapter 27
Twenty minutes later, Socrates blew the whistle and released the brakes. The steam engine roared to life, and the Iron Horse slowly began to roll away from the depot. Halfway down the train, River stepped into the dining car and found half the crew drinking, gambling, and toasting farewell to New Boston. Pirate was perched at the end of the bar, begging Vann for rum. Kale, Thane, and Shayla were sharing a table. They were playing a round of King’s Noose, an usual game that was a combination of dominoes and playing cards. Kale called out to River as she entered, motioning for her to join them. She sauntered over to their table.
“Looks like the game just started,” she said. “Too bad, I was all set to take the shirts off your backs.”
“You can have mine,” said Kale, pushing his chair back.
“On second thought, maybe I’ll take Shayla’s,” said River. “At least I know hers is clean.”
Thane burst out laughing and Kale shot him a glare. Shayla smiled ever so slightly, but kept her eyes fixed on River.
“I’ll be back shortly,” River said. “Keep a seat warm.”
River felt Shayla’s eyes on her back as she crossed the room and stepped through the door. A slight smile crept to her lips. River just couldn’t help enjoying Shayla’s discomfort, even if she had spent the first half of their journey feeling sorry for the woman. My Queen, River thought, and laughed quietly.
When she reached the locomotive, River found Socrates leaning out the window, watching the tracks ahead. The wind blowing into the cab was freezing, and wisps of steam rose from the top of the firebox, which was red hot. She glanced at the pressure gauges, and then the speed indicator. Socrates pulled his head inside, and River giggled as she saw frost on his beard.
“We’re making good time,” she said.
“I assumed we were all equally eager to put New Boston behind us.”
“That was a safe assumption. The crew is celebrating, right now.” She pulled the stool out from under the map table, and settled onto it. “Socrates, I have to talk to you about something.”
“Thane and Shayla?” he said. “Or should I say, her highness?”
“How did you know about that?”
Socrates just smiled.
“Stupid question,” River said. “It’s not about that, anyway. It’s about you leaving me in charge of the Horse.”
“Yes, I meant to congratulate you on your first command.”
“Congratulate me? Socrates, I failed miserably. I disobeyed your orders, I lost the train, I even got myself thrown in jail. If you hadn’t come back to us, I don’t know what would have happened.”
“Oh? In that case, now that you’ve seen the cons
equences of your actions, would what you change?”
River considered that. “I don’t know. I would still go after the starfall. It was too dangerous to leave in the Vangars’ hands. I suppose I might have reacted differently when I saw you in the toy store.”
“Is that so?”
“No, probably not. See, that’s the problem. I screwed up our whole mission and I wouldn’t change a thing! I can’t be trusted, Socrates. I’m not good at this.”
“River, I have complete faith that you would have set things right, just as you did.”
“Are your mind-circuits fried?”
“No… not all of them, anyway. Listen, you retrieved the starfall and then you found the train. You found me. You knew what needed to be done, and you did it. Things may not have worked out quite the way you envisioned, but they did work out.”
“But what if-”
“Stop! I will not be assaulted with what-ifs and wherefores for this entire adventure. Please, accept our situation for what it is, not what it might have been.”
River glanced out the window and saw the cold pale light of the moon glistening across the snowy plains. “What about Burk?” she said. “Are we really going after him?”
“I did make that commitment.”
“I know, but… now that we are free, maybe we should just go after the starfall. From the mayor’s description, it sounds like there may be a supply at those islands. Until then, going after Burk just seems like a waste of fuel.”
“You may be right,” Socrates said. “It would be unwise to use our remaining fuel supply chasing an airship we can’t possibly catch.”
“Exactly.”
“Unless of course, that airship is going to the same place we are.”
“What?”
“Look there,” said Socrates, gesturing to the maps on the table behind her. “I’ve been tracking Burk’s flight pattern. If he maintains the course he followed for the first fifty miles out of New Boston…”
“He’s heading straight for the islands!” River said. She turned back to face Socrates. “He’s trying to get to that starfall!”
Socrates leaned back and crossed his furry arms over his chest. “And now what do you think?”
“I think we need to hunt him down like a dog!” She glanced back at the gauges. “Is this the fastest we can go? I’ll get more starfall!”
Socrates watched with a smile as River disappeared into the tender car.
THE END
Book 3 of the Iron Horse series -The Dragon’s Breath- is Available Now! Click here to buy at Amazon.
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ISBN-10: 0692379045
Copyright 2014 by Jamie Sedgwick
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Any similarity to real people or events is coincidental