antihistamines!”
The claw was now all the way out of the screen, a thing of three talons that rounded to a sharpened point. It wasn’t solid, in the sense of skin and bone, but, rather, seemed composed of static greys and flashing whites, of dull sparks and flashing blacknesses, as if its essence were pulled from the base stuff of the computer.
Rhys was fumbling desperately for his antihistamines; and now the arm had grown a shoulder.
Sharon looked around for a weapon. Finding nothing, she grabbed her shoulder bag and slammed it like a slingshot into the emerging arm. She felt resistance, an undeniable something in the air, but the arm just splattered into two where her bag struck and immediately reformed, the parts fusing back together with an electric fizz, like follicles of hair dragged towards a static balloon. Almost immediately a shoulder had moved all the way out of the screen, and the beginning of a head emerged: a sharp chin of static, a jaw that sparked and crackled as it opened wide, eyes of spinning data and rolling numbers, hair of bursting code that spat and scarred the screen as it wriggled its way out. Still looking for his antihistamines, Rhys sent wads of used tissues and old receipts tumbling out onto the floor, while water filled his eyes, but as the creature coming into view now turned its head and seemed to see Sharon, he gave a cry of, “I think I left them at the office!”
Sharon yelped with exasperation. “Tell me how to stop it!”
“I need magnets!” he wailed again, wiping the back of his nose with his sleeve.
Sharon swung her bag again, slamming through the head of the creature as it began to pull its torso out of the now-smoking screen. The head dissolved, and reformed, all in a smooth, hissing crackle of static. She hit it again, and as the creature flopped out across the desk, only its legs yet to come, she reached out for Rhys and prepared to run. The world was already shimmering grey around her, the cold drizzle of invisibility ready to drop over them both.
Then someone was at the door. She glimpsed blond hair and a flowing black coat; and with a cry of “Don’t mind me, now!” Miles the Alderman burst into the room, leapt dexterously between the drifts of paperwork heaped on the floor, slid easily beneath the desk and with a great metallic thump, slammed a pair of magnets the size of frying pans against either side of Swift’s machine.
The creature, nearly all out of the screen by now, screamed.
It was an electronic scream, the high beep of an error sound, prolonged into a great whine of distress. The thing’s body rippled with static, great pulses of whiteness surging out of the screen and down to its fingertips, and with each pulse it writhed and twisted, the fingers dissolving to dull grey sparks that fizzed as they dissolved on the air, then hands, arms, shoulders, head, back and bony hips, as with a final burst of whiteness the creature pressed against the screen and vanished.
Silence settled over the office.
Rhys gave a huge sneeze.
Miles stood back, laying down the two magnets on the desk. Something caught his eye, and a smile burst across his features. “Tea!” he exclaimed, seeing the three mugs gently steaming. “That was what we were doing, wasn’t it?”
Chapter 9
If at First You Don’t Succeed…
Sharon, Miles and Rhys sat on a sofa in the lofty glass-walled reception area of Harlun and Phelps and drank tea in thoughtful silence.
At length Rhys said, “I… I think I found my antihistamines, Ms Li.”
Sharon looked up from her mug of tea. A foil packet containing one white pill was gripped in the druid’s hand. Fluff clung to it, from the ultimate depths of his pocket.
“Oh, good,” she murmured. “That’s great.”
Miles’s voice, when he spoke, seemed suddenly far too loud. “You know, it takes a lot to get a hex file through the firewalls in this place. Which I think is something positive we can take from the experience.” At the
The claw was now all the way out of the screen, a thing of three talons that rounded to a sharpened point. It wasn’t solid, in the sense of skin and bone, but, rather, seemed composed of static greys and flashing whites, of dull sparks and flashing blacknesses, as if its essence were pulled from the base stuff of the computer.
Rhys was fumbling desperately for his antihistamines; and now the arm had grown a shoulder.
Sharon looked around for a weapon. Finding nothing, she grabbed her shoulder bag and slammed it like a slingshot into the emerging arm. She felt resistance, an undeniable something in the air, but the arm just splattered into two where her bag struck and immediately reformed, the parts fusing back together with an electric fizz, like follicles of hair dragged towards a static balloon. Almost immediately a shoulder had moved all the way out of the screen, and the beginning of a head emerged: a sharp chin of static, a jaw that sparked and crackled as it opened wide, eyes of spinning data and rolling numbers, hair of bursting code that spat and scarred the screen as it wriggled its way out. Still looking for his antihistamines, Rhys sent wads of used tissues and old receipts tumbling out onto the floor, while water filled his eyes, but as the creature coming into view now turned its head and seemed to see Sharon, he gave a cry of, “I think I left them at the office!”
Sharon yelped with exasperation. “Tell me how to stop it!”
“I need magnets!” he wailed again, wiping the back of his nose with his sleeve.
Sharon swung her bag again, slamming through the head of the creature as it began to pull its torso out of the now-smoking screen. The head dissolved, and reformed, all in a smooth, hissing crackle of static. She hit it again, and as the creature flopped out across the desk, only its legs yet to come, she reached out for Rhys and prepared to run. The world was already shimmering grey around her, the cold drizzle of invisibility ready to drop over them both.
Then someone was at the door. She glimpsed blond hair and a flowing black coat; and with a cry of “Don’t mind me, now!” Miles the Alderman burst into the room, leapt dexterously between the drifts of paperwork heaped on the floor, slid easily beneath the desk and with a great metallic thump, slammed a pair of magnets the size of frying pans against either side of Swift’s machine.
The creature, nearly all out of the screen by now, screamed.
It was an electronic scream, the high beep of an error sound, prolonged into a great whine of distress. The thing’s body rippled with static, great pulses of whiteness surging out of the screen and down to its fingertips, and with each pulse it writhed and twisted, the fingers dissolving to dull grey sparks that fizzed as they dissolved on the air, then hands, arms, shoulders, head, back and bony hips, as with a final burst of whiteness the creature pressed against the screen and vanished.
Silence settled over the office.
Rhys gave a huge sneeze.
Miles stood back, laying down the two magnets on the desk. Something caught his eye, and a smile burst across his features. “Tea!” he exclaimed, seeing the three mugs gently steaming. “That was what we were doing, wasn’t it?”
Chapter 9
If at First You Don’t Succeed…
Sharon, Miles and Rhys sat on a sofa in the lofty glass-walled reception area of Harlun and Phelps and drank tea in thoughtful silence.
At length Rhys said, “I… I think I found my antihistamines, Ms Li.”
Sharon looked up from her mug of tea. A foil packet containing one white pill was gripped in the druid’s hand. Fluff clung to it, from the ultimate depths of his pocket.
“Oh, good,” she murmured. “That’s great.”
Miles’s voice, when he spoke, seemed suddenly far too loud. “You know, it takes a lot to get a hex file through the firewalls in this place. Which I think is something positive we can take from the experience.” At the
Similar Books
