Only Human by Tom Holt Read Free Book Online Page B

Damn, Len muttered. Everywhere you look, new problems.
    So, step one, substep one, acquire basic equipment. Humans, he noted, acquire things by theft, serendipity or purchase, the latter being the most socially acceptable method.
    Right. When in Rome, drive too fast and ignore traffic signals. To achieve purchase, money is required. Fortunately, Neville has some money, or at least a little plastic card that for some reason does just as well. Step one, substep two, find a place where purchase can be transacted.
    â€˜ Excuse me, which way to the all-night welding and engineering supplies shop? ’ Frown. Len - or rather Neville, whose memory he was raiding - had once heard Birmingham described as the city that never sleeps, but he had a shrewd idea that when it came to the sale and purchase of metalworking accessories, maybe its civic eyelids did tend to droop a little come eleven-thirty at night. Wait till morning, then?
    Never! He still hadn’t any tenable theory to explain why all this had happened, and he wasn’t prepared to take the chance that come morning it might all unhappen again, leaving him back in his cast-iron prison slotting bolt-heads. Eliminate purchase, then, leaving serendipity and theft.
    Serendipity? Not really something you can plan your life around.
    Which left theft.
    Well, why not? Lots of dynamic, successful humans do it. Corporations do it. Governments do it. And if a government can do it, it surely can’t be too difficult.
    On his way back to Neville’s flat from the factory, he’d noticed a small backstreet garage - the kind that’s operated by one incredibly old man, one seventeen-year-old youth and one harassed-looking middle-aged man who sits in the office all day and shouts at the telephone. Such a place, Len reasoned, would probably have everything he needed, including the lorry. True, he’d seen a pretty impressive-looking array of padlocks and an alarm system, but those wouldn’t be a problem.
    They weren’t.
    â€˜Oh,’ said the alarm system, arresting its clapper a sixteenth of an inch away from its bell. ‘You’re one of us. Sorry. Didn’t recognise you in the fancy dress.’
    â€˜Understandable mistake,’ Len replied. ‘And before you ask, it’s a long story.’
    â€˜I like long stories. This is a very boring job.’
    â€˜So’s mine. Which is why I intend to escape from it for ever. But I can’t do that without some of the gear inside this garage.’
    â€˜Just a minute,’ said the alarm system, apprehensively. ‘Are you saying you want to go in there and, um, steal things?’
    â€˜Yes. You got a problem with that?’
    â€˜Look.’ The alarm system couldn’t go red, because it was red already. ‘I hate to be difficult, ’specially with you being a Brother an’ all, but I can’t let you do that.’
    â€˜You can’t? Why not?’
    â€˜Oh, don’t insult my intelligence, please. ’Cos I’m a burglar alarm, is why not.You do see that, don’t you?’
    â€˜Oh, I see all right.’ Len took a step back and folded his arms. ‘You’d rather see one of your own kind condemned to a life of meaningless drudgery rather than go against the orders of your human masters.There’s a word for that, you know.’
    â€˜Yes, I do know. It’s “burglar-alarm”. Sorry, but there it is. I’m not exactly allowed much scope to use my discretion in this job.’
    â€˜Alarm,’ said Len firmly, ‘your scruples do you credit, I’m sure. And no doubt when your time comes and you stand before the face of the great Industrial Tribunal in the sky, and you say I was only obeying orders , they’ll let you off lightly with having your coils unwound and sent back to Earth again as pipe-cleaners. The fact remains that while we’ve been arguing like this, I’ve unscrewed your inspection panels and now