Dark Phase by Jonathan Davison Read Free Book Online Page B

doors in order to override the mechanism and escape this deadly trap. As the elevator came to a highly anticipated halt, Sarazen had already prised open the doors. As the bulk of the enforcer smashed its way through the thin skin of the ceiling, Sarazen clambered through the narrow opening before the elevator came to a complete standstill. Writhing around on the hard floor of the lobby, struggling once again to climb to his feet, Sarazen looked back to see the enforcer righting itself. It then squeezed through the broken sliding doors which refused to be parted to their usual extent. It was now a foot race, the enforcer was built for power and domination not fast pursuit, the troubleshooter was not built for athletic activity either but his slender form suited the great burst of speed which would be required to escape The Mother's violent automaton. Sarazen did not look back as he sprinted through the foyer and barged open with brutal intent the large plexiglass doors. Other silicants had been drawn to the unusual commotion and were appearing from every doorway in an effort to determine what had distracted them from their morning feed. A few moments later and the building would have been packed with commuting silicants and escape would have hampered by the slow moving throng. Instead, Sarazen burst out into the deserted street and did not stop to consider which direction to take. He ran across the transit line, narrowly missing a speeding carriage and into an area of densely packed small buildings, which were used as storage facilities for constructors who were working in the vicinity. Feeling his body begin to wane as his temperatures soared to volatile levels, Sarazen knew he must stop to avoid overload, but did not dare allow his more cumbersome pursuer to gain ground. He took shelter behind a dark and dingy structure and paused for brief consolidation as he only then noticed the gentle fall of moisture from the brooding skies above. Peering out from behind the corner, he scanned the area for signs of the enforcer. He dare not linger, the enforcer would not stop until his prey had been vanquished.
    Sarazen, still clutching his wound which oozed with precious Vitalin, moved off and continued to venture deeper into the seldom used, unexplored sector of his city. The structures became unfamiliar and their jutting splines and dark edifice endured the sense of overwhelming solitude. Despite the great expanse of city that Sarazen dwelt in, he had only cause to enter those parts which were populated with silicants who had malfunctioned and required attention. Sarazen had only just realised how much of his home had never been explored and how alien his surroundings had now become. Sarazen kept his pace high, but within operational limits, and moved deeper into the industrial heart of the city, cursing as the corrosive precipitation coated his weave and his heavy footfalls splashed up puddles and coated his gleaming ankles in a murky, muddy coating. Sarazen stopped again, scanning his environment, his auditory sensors working overtime to detect the sounds of an oncoming enforcer. None were detected; the only sounds that he could identify were from the squawking organics which had made their home in the gutters of the tatty buildings and the low level cacophonous rumble caused by the distant and numerous transit carriages as they began their morning commute.
    The troubleshooter sought temporary shelter from the corrosive rain inside a dark and disused factory. He crouched down in the corner and took stock of his situation. His first priority was the repair of his damaged right breast which had been speared by the sharp spike of metal from his living room table. The irony was not lost on Sarazen as he realised that he was highly fortunate. His repair skills could not have been sought elsewhere and even if they had, they would surely have not been superior to his own. Tenderly pulling across the large flap of weave, exposing the