The Age Of Zeus by James Lovegrove Read Free Book Online Page B

stopwatch?"
    Sparks's wristwatch had a stopwatch function.
    "Time me."
    McCann went into a half-crouch. Sparks said go, and he launched himself forwards. His first couple of steps were slow and laboured, then all at once the suit seemed to realise what was being required of it and he accelerated to a sprint - the fastest sprint Sam had ever seen. He skidded to a halt just short of the mural, and Sparks announced, "Six point four seconds."
    McCann raised both fists, as though acknowledging the cheers of an imaginary stadium crowd. "And Jamie McCann, the young contender from Kirkcaldy, takes the gold, smashing the previous world record to pieces."
    "Jamie..." said Landesman, mock-reproving.
    "Sorry, Mr Landesman." McCann returned at walking pace. "The suit can sustain speeds of up to forty miles per hour for six or seven minutes before the servos start to overheat, although you want to be careful because it drains the battery like you wouldn't believe. Use speed sparingly, that's the motto."
    "Is that another drugs reference, Jamie?" said Sam.
    "No. No! God, no. Please don't get the wrong idea. I'm not some junkie."
    "Watch out, pal," said Ramsay. "Sam used to be a cop."
    "I know." McCann squirmed. "I mean, I know some of you were police. I just... You can't be arrested just for saying stuff, can you?"
    "Continue with the demonstration, lad," said Landesman. "You're doing fine. They're only teasing."
    "Oh aye. I see."
    "Show us the chameleon effect."
    "Yeah. The chameleon effect. Well, it goes a bit like this. The nanobots can colour-shift to match their surroundings. It isn't quite Harry Potter's Cloak of Invisibility but it's still a hell of an effective camouflage. Here we go."
    He stood against the black rock wall of the chamber. A quick prodding of his wristpad, and the surface of the suit began to darken. Soon the suit was as black as the wall, and with McCann standing stock still it was almost impossible to see him. He was a perfect silhouette.
    "It can also do break-up patterns," he said, as the suit lightened again to its default-setting grey. "Jungle, desert, mountain, snow, all the basic combat camouflage designs. Urban environments are harder to deal with, but by and large buildings in localised regions conform to a standard colour, so for a Mediterranean town, for instance, you could make the setting white to match the stucco. And speaking of Mediterranean, and hot countries in general, we've fitted a microclimate conditioning subsystem which'll keep you cool in hundred-plus-degree heat and toasty warm in subzero temperatures. Basically, you'll never roast or freeze. Whatever the weather, you'll be Baby Bear's porridge - just right."
    "Ah, bless," said Mahmoud.
    McCann squirmed again. He was a full-grown man and clearly some kind of genius, but acted like an awkward adolescent. It was almost too easy to embarrass him. And too tempting.
    "And now," said Landesman, "the pièce de résistance ."
    McCann made an imploring sound. "Do we have to?"
    "I'm afraid so, Jamie."
    "But it hurts."
    "Oh it's not so bad. Didn't you liken it once to getting shot with a paintball?"
    "Which hurts."
    "Stings."
    "Hurts stingingly. Oh very well then. Since you insist. You're the fella who signs the cheques, after all." McCann stationed himself at the wall again, while Landesman fetched a gun from the armoury.
    "You may want to step back a little," Landesman advised the eleven. "There shouldn't be a ricochet, but just in case."
    "What in the name of sweet baby Jesus's little holy halo is that?" Ramsay asked, pointing to the gun. "Never seen anything like it."
    The gun was shaped like a conventional rifle but had a long, thickly cylindrical barrel and an unusually stocky body. The casing was ribbed in several places, and a lightning bolt was stencilled on a small sliding cover on one side, suggesting a battery pack was contained within.
    "This," said Landesman, "is a handheld coilgun."
    "A handheld what now?"
    "Come, come, Mr Ramsay. Don't