exact opposite, the human head looking ridiculously small on top of the wide rectangular body – seemed to scan their surroundings.
Looking for them.
“I’m hoping your friend will be able to tell us,” said Jennifer. She pulled back into the shadow of the alleyway and pointed with her gun towards the north, towards the vast black building that loomed over the whole area.
Rad followed her gaze. “You think the King has something to do with this?”
Jennifer glanced sideways at Rad, then her eyes were back on the street. “That what he calls himself?”
“So I’ve been told. King of 125th Street.”
“Which matches the directions you were given.” Jennifer nodded. “It’s all connected – our friend Cliff and the army of robots; these poor creatures in Harlem. Something big is about to go down.”
“So what’s your plan? Follow me to this King character?”
“You bet. You got an invite.”
Rad pursed his lips. “Guess you tapped my phone?”
“You guessed right.”
Rad sighed. “I’m not sure the invite came with a plus one. And I was planning on bringing you any information I found.”
Jennifer shrugged. “Thought I’d save you the effort.”
Rad frowned and glanced back around the lip of the alley. “Damn,” he said.
Jennifer peered around his shoulder.
The robots – those with heads – were looking right at them. The sound of twelve semi-mechanical bodies jerking into motion was loud in the otherwise silent night.
Rad realized Jennifer’s appraisal of his handgun was accurate. He’d bought the thing to shoot people, not machines, and only if he was really in a squeeze. He glanced at Jennifer’s gun, the giant silver thing she still had raised up, balancing its weight like she couldn’t really lift it.
“You gonna point that thing at them or what?” Rad asked, not bothering to lower his voice.
Jennifer hissed through her teeth. “Last resort only.” She glanced towards the north, to the big building. It was hard to tell, but to Rad it looked at least three blocks away.
“We’re gonna have to run,” said Jennifer. “On three.”
The robots were slow but closing. They didn’t appear to be armed, so Rad imagined the general idea was to tear them limb from limb.
Rad and Jennifer locked eyes. Then she nodded.
“Three!”
Rad pushed at the ice-covered brick of the alley wall as he sprinted forward, away from the robots. He instinctively reached one hand behind him to grab onto Jennifer, but his hand met empty air. He half-turned and saw the robots stagger as they caught proper sight of their targets and adjusted their own course. He turned around and saw Jennifer had a good ten yards on him, the shiny leather of her knee-high black boots flashing in the low streetlight from beneath the flapping edge of her coat.
“Hey!”
Rad clenched his jaw and stepped up the pace. Jennifer Jones wasn’t going to slow for him, not at all.
He checked over his shoulder. The robots were gaining, their ramshackle, almost random movements making Rad feel ill. He turned again, focusing on outpacing the robots without slipping and breaking his neck on the icy street.
A new street appeared, ahead on the left. Rad saw a shadow move in that direction: Jennifer. He huffed and sprinted towards the corner, then almost collided with the agent’s back, only just sliding out of her way and grabbing onto her shoulder to stop himself from tripping.
Jennifer’s shoulders rose and fell as she caught her breath. Rad looked ahead, following the aim of her big gun – pointed at a large group of robots blocking the street. There were thirty, fifty, maybe more, the sound of their engines and motors and boilers and clockwork hearts and electric insides buzzing and fizzing and ticking and hissing in the night.
The robots didn’t move. Rad turned at a sound behind them. The other robots had caught up. They were boxed in, trapped on either side by a long block of brownstones, with robots between them and the intersections in front and behind.
The group of robots in front parted to let one of their own kind walk forward. It was intact, perfect, two arms and two legs and a head, the whole thing standing near to seven feet tall. It was entirely silver, like Cliff and the robots in the warehouse, its polished surfaces catching the weak streetlight well. Another upgraded model, although this one without the human disguise on top.
Jennifer trained the gun on the silver machine. The robot had a face, complete with nose and metal eyebrows. The thing’s jaw was a separate piece, square with a