Free The Gabble and Other Stories by Neal Asher Page B

Geronamid.’

    Those who had been watching the dignitaries, or subvocalizing commentaries, paused.
    There came an intake of breath. Through the portal had come two voluptuous women clad as fantasy barbarians. This was not what drew the attention though. That they each held silver chain leashes connecting to the collar of a huge allosaur did cause a little consternation.

    ‘Someone tell me that’s an automaton and not from the fossil gene project,’ said the man behind Merril.

    ‘That’s an automaton and not from the fossil gene project,’ said Salind.

    ‘Thanks for that.’

    Next came jugglers and street musicians, followed by a crowd who seemed to have just come from a party. The arrival lounge rapidly filled with a cacophony of sound and movement.

    ‘Well where the hell is Geronamid?’ asked Geoff, as he swept the area with the sensor heads of his recorder. Salind pointed to the lone acrobat who had come through first and was now doing back-flips in front of the increasingly irritated-looking allosaur.

    ‘Him usually,’ he said. ‘Though it’s difficult to tell. On Tarus Five Geronamid came through dispersed - memory units implanted in each of twelve circus clowns.’

    The group of dignitaries began to make their way across the lounge, heading towards the acrobat.

    ‘Looks like I was right,’ said Salind. ‘They’ll have been told who to greet.’

    The dignitaries had nearly reached the acrobat, who ceased his display and stood with his arms held out in greeting. There came a stuttering thud as of the sound of a lump of meat being thrown into a fan. The smile on the acrobat’s face disappeared along with his head. Brains and pieces of bone sprayed over the allosaur.

    After a shocked pause someone started screaming.

    ‘Rail-gun,’ commented Merril and chaos broke loose. Police and security agents were running around shouting into personal com units. Salind saw one of these men lose his leg then fall to the ground, his expression puzzled. Salind was still watching and recording when Geoff grabbed him and dragged him to the floor.

    ‘Let me up! Let me the fuck up!’ Salind yelled. Eventually Geoff rolled away and Salind scrambled to his feet. He scanned quickly and saw where Merril and the rest of the vultures were heading. The two skinless androids had pinned someone to the floor. The Earth monitors kept the crowd from gathering around this individual, and the Banjer police encircled the acrobat’s remains.

    ‘Let me through! Let me through!’ yelled Salind, using his trusted elbows-and-knees technique to get to the forefront of the first crowd. When arrived there he recognized a slightly putrid smell, and seeing the pinned figure he felt a moment’s horrible glee.

    ‘Shit we’ve got a story,’ he said, then paused. He felt the crowd clearing from behind him.
    A hot breath raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Turning, he looked straight into the tooth-filled mouth of the blood-spattered allosaur. It glanced aside at the dead acrobat then down at the prisoner. Salind quickly stepped aside.

    ‘Murderer,’ came the guttural accusation of the allosaur.

    Garp glared up from the floor, his eye-irrigators working overtime. His eyes were blank white spheres overlaid with narrow gridlines.

    * * * *
    The room was clean, aseptic and not a very nice place to be. Formchairs positioned against white tile were all in perfect condition, no graffiti marred the walls, and not a speck of dust r rubbish littered the banoak coral floor. Yet the room smelt of vomit and fear. Salind tried to ignore that, since it didn’t apply to him, a Polity citizen.

    ‘The AI Geronamid arrived on Banjer in the skull of a living allosaur, reputedly resurrected by the fossil gene project at the University of Earth on Midlantis Island. In this “acting of parable” he demonstrated the coexistence of the old and the new. The attempted assassination of Geronamid by another resurrectee, one Abel Garp, a reified