Psychomech (Psychomech Trilogy)
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Drawn together by a terrorist bomb attack, multimillionaire Thomas Schroeder and British Army Corporal Richard Garrison become friends, but Garrison begins to wonder about Schroeder's generosity when he learns of his dabbling in the psychic arts. Original.
Garrison pictured again that old, careening railway bogie. Like that, yes! But unlike the bogie, sentient - and utterly evil! Chapter Sixteen Wyatt came back in something approaching high spirits, at least by comparison with his recent frame of mind. ‘Crisis,’ he reported to Terri. ‘You don’t know what that means, my love, but I can tell you that it doesn’t mean a crisis for us.’ She was in bed. He quickly undressed and got in beside her. She hugged him close and warmed him with her
hardened swillers and had visited all levels of establishment from ’dive’ and ’bar’ through ’night-club’ to the most expensive bordello on the Reeperbahn. There, still drinking like some insatiable, alcohol-fuelled engine, he had finally chosen a woman for himself and at 2.30 in the morning had taken her upstairs to bed. Though he remembered little of it, he had paid for her services for the night; and this morning about 9.30 had awakened clear-headed if a little dry in the mouth, which is to say
move a fraction of an inch - but the bonnet did! Slowly it fell, clicked shut, allowed Koenig an unobstructed view of the lane ahead. Finally, as the engine again started itself up with a throaty cough and a roar, Koenig felt his hands taken in that phantom grip and returned to the steering wheel… Seven seconds to go, and Connery began to count-down. He cast a nervous glance at the second sweep of his watch and licked his lips. ‘Six, five, four,’ he gritted his teeth and made slits of his eyes.
‘About Thomas: when was it?’ ‘Six months ago,’ Garrison told him. ‘Ah!’ The word was a sigh. ‘I knew he had been hurt - the bomb - it was in the news. But somehow I seem to have missed his … his passing.’ Garrison gently squeezed his forearm, felt the trembling in the old man’s bones. ‘Don’t distress yourself. There has been enough of pain. It hurt all of us, and no one more than me. But it was also a mercy. His body was finished.’ ‘So,’ the other nodded. ‘And poor Thomas, wrong after all,
very appropriate. Then, when his throat was too raw to go on cursing, he crept into Psychomech’s shade and lay there panting for air. He had known days as hot as this before (where and when he couldn’t have said), but then there had always been a bar close at hand where he could step out of the sun and order a cool, cleanglassof Keo, or an icy can of Coca-Cola. He frowned, concentrated… Cyprus? It seemed for a moment that he heard the wash of languid waves and he got to his hands and knees and