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Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War

Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War

Titel: Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: Simon R. Green
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learned to be tricky, too."
    He didn't seem to have anything to add to that, so Finlay sat back in his seat.
    Somehow Julian had managed to get the seat next to him, rather than Evangeline, and the younger esper leaned over and murmured urgently in Finlay's ear.
    "Pardon me for being paranoid, but aren't we being just a tiny bit too trusting here, Finlay? I mean, how do we know these are the good guys? Just because they
    say so, and look cuddly? Just because this thing opposite us looks like a character we all knew and loved in our childhood, we shouldn't forget that it is by its own admission basically just a rogue AI originally created and programmed by Shub. For all we know, he could be taking us to some mass sacrificial slaughter, where they could all take turns at us, while we lasted."
    "No," said Finlay calmly. "I don't think so. Bruin Bear wouldn't do that. If he wanted us dead, he and the Goat have had plenty of opportunities. All they've done so far is talk and smile us to death. Besides, if you can't trust Bruin Bear, who can you trust?"
    And then they both rocked in their seats as Edwin cut his speed suddenly, slowing almost to a crawl. All the humans looked ahead, but couldn't see anything. Bruin Bear stood up in his seat, and stared ahead, one paw shading his eyes. "What is it, Edwin?"
    "The tracks are out, some way ahead. Someone's dug them up again."
    "I can't see anything," said Finlay.
    "Our eyes were designed to be more than human," said the Sea Goat. "We can see for miles."
    "I can see it," said Giles. "It doesn't look too bad. Can we repair it?"
    "Oh sure," said Edwin. "I always carry spares these days. Just in case. With you humans to help, we should be finished inside an hour."
    "Okay," said Bruin Bear. "Take us as far as you safely can, and then stop." He sat down again, frowning heavily. The expression looked out of place on his round furry face. "I don't like this," he said suddenly to Finlay and Julian.
    "There's no reason for anyone to dig up the tracks all the way out here, except to interrupt our journey. And since Edwin, the Goat, and I are not all that
    important, it can only mean that the bad toys know about you. Which could mean we are in deep doo-doo."
    Finlay looked around him. The grassy plains stretched away in every direction, open and empty and innocent. "Seems safe enough."
    The Bear growled suddenly, deep in his throat. It was a dark, disturbing sound.
    "Never take that for granted. Not in Summerland. Nothing is necessarily what it seems anymore."
    "Including you?"
    "Including me. I'm not innocent anymore."
    The train slowly eased to a halt, in a cloud of steam. Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat jumped off and hurried forward. The humans got off more slowly, secretly glad for a chance to stretch their legs and ease aching posteriors. The train and its carriages had not been designed for long journeys. The Bear signaled for them to stay where they were while he and the Goat examined the damage. Edwin vented steam nervously, and then apologized. Bruin Bear leaned over the dug-up tracks and studied them thoughtfully. Half a dozen sleepers had been broken apart, and the pieces scattered. Where they had been was now a shallow pit in the grass. Dark loose earth showed clearly, rough and disturbed. The Bear knelt beside it. The Sea Goat frowned, and half reached out a hand to pull his friend back.
    "Not too close. Bear. I've got a bad feeling about this."
    "You've always got a bad feeling about things."
    "And I'm usually right."
    The Bear looked back at the Goat, exasperated, and that was when the cloth hand burst up out of the broken earth and fastened around his ankle. Bruin Bear cried out in shock and alarm, and then toppled over backwards. He tried to scramble
    away, and the owner of the hand came rising up out of the pit it had dug under the tracks, squirming out of the loose earth like a maggot from an apple. It was a rag doll, stitched together from hundreds of different-colored patches, but there was metal in it, too, great steel staples holding it together like some ragged Frankenstein creature. Its cloth face crumpled with rage and hatred as it looked across at the humans by the train, and then its mouth stretched wide, stitches tearing apart, and it screamed. There was enough human emotion in the artificial voice—a horrid implacable howl of fury and eternal enmity—to chill the soul.
    Bruin Bear kicked his foot as hard as he could, but couldn't break free. The rag doll pulled

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