"Jay Lake - Benedice Te" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lake Jay)

Benedice Te by Jay Lake

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Galvezton, Texian Republic, May 10 th , 1961

Algernon Black-Smith glanced back at the hissing scream of a pressure relief
valve to see a great steam ram out of control. Eighteen feet high, twelve feet wide,
with burnished copper eagles in relief across the steel airstreamed prow, the vehicle
smashed across the electro-guide barrier in the center of the street and rolled toward
him with the inevitability of Manifest Destiny.

Scattering wogs like ninepins, Algernon dashed for an open door. He looked
behind him as he ran to see the steering bogies of the steam ram twist toward
himтАФsomeone was trying to kill him!тАФbut the mechanismтАЩs momentum was too
great. Spewing sparks off the cobbles of Mechanic Street, the ram toppled onto its
right side as it swung toward him, accompanied by the screams of terrified
pedestrians and the stench of burning brakes. Algernon stopped in the doorway,
horrified yet fascinated, as the huge machine surrendered to Sir IsaacтАЩs immutable
laws and rolled over the Galvezton foot traffic. Two Papist nuns were caught for a
moment, their red faces shrieking within their white wimples, before the careening
ram ground them to sludge between the cobbles.

The ram continued to roll, its back end describing an arc with a radius as long
as the engineтАЩs forty or so feet. Horses, mules, men and women, all fell before the
mighty wall of metal. White gas lamps lining the electro-way exploded as the sliding
ram snapped their poles and gutted their plumbing. It came to rest, frame out, against
the block of buildings in which Algernon sheltered. A cloud of damp, heavy dust
settled over the entire scene.

Appalled at the carnage, and what was intended to be his starring role therein,
Algernon reached up to touch the fresnel lens of the steam ramтАЩs vast headlamp, a
cyclopean orb vacant of reason.

The warm glass stung his fingertips, bringing Algernon back to himself.
Simple prudence and good tradecraft alike dictated a swift retreat from a ruptured
boiler of that size. As Algernon pushed his way through screaming wogs toward the
back of a ragged, stinking little chop house, he wondered which of his friends or
enemies wanted to kill him in such a messy, public way. Behind him, escaping steam
screeched in a steadily rising wail.

****

тАЬMr. Black-Smith, the Consul-General will see you now.тАЭ The butler, an
Iberian almost as well comported as an honest Englishman, bowed. The man smelled
of barley water.
 Algernon followed him along marble-tiled halls to a large set of doors, gilded
with an inlaid hagiography of precious gems. Her Imperial MajestyтАЩs
Consulate-General in Galvezton was located in the BishopтАЩs Palace, that worthy
having been summarily invited some years earlier by the Royal Marines to remove