Read Chronicles of Isambard Smith 05 - End of Empires for Free Online Page B

newspaper.
    ‘Of course, you’ll be staying here, as our guest,’ Bargath said. ‘Best way to assess the lie of the land and all that.’
    ‘That’s very good of you.’
    ‘Not at all. I’ll sort you out a pass. You’ll be an honorary lancer.’ Bargath pointed out of the window. On an immaculate field outside, two M’Lak charged about on horses, waving long-handled mallets. ‘Smashing.’
    ‘You play polo?’ Morgar said.
    ‘No, that’s warhammer practice. Well hit, that fellow!’ he shouted out the window. ‘Medic!’ Bargath gestured down the corridor, and they continued their walk.
    ‘Now, about these lavatories...’ Morgar suggested. ‘Any thoughts on the design?’
    ‘Well, something traditional would be good, in keeping with the spirit of the rest of the place. Dignified, yet striking. Much like myself, if I may say so. I do like striking things,’ Bargath added wistfully. ‘Oh – no bidets in the bathrooms, mind. Dreadful business. Makes one soft.’
    Morgar, who like all his species had absolutely no use for a bidet, wondered whether the bathrooms would have any purpose beyond the ornamental.
    They turned the corner. Rows of glass panels made up the right side of the corridor. They seemed to be windows, Morgar thought, but it was impossible to see much beyond them. He had a vague impression of rocks beyond. It was like looking out of a spaceship’s viewing lounge.
    ‘Now,’ Bargath said, stopping by a window, ‘the Ravnavari Lancers take good care of their guests. It’s a point of honour for us. So, which newspaper would you like delivered to your room?’
    ‘I’ll have the Guardian , please,’ Morgar replied.
    ‘No, sorry, didn’t quite get you there. Try again.’
    Morgar sighed. ‘The Telegraph .’
    ‘Splendid. You know, last week I told the wallahbot, “Why don’t you be enterprising about it and bring me the Sunday papers a day early? Get yourself an extra lie in, that way. I know how much you robot types like lounging about.” Bugger told me it didn’t compute. Damned cheeky, these robots. But anyhow, for the duration of your stay, you’re one of us.’
    ‘Thank you. That’s very kind.’
    ‘Not at all. Least I could do. You’ll have your own quarters, your own sabre, and of course, your own one of these .’
    He pressed a button on the wall. Light flared up behind the glass, and Morgar leaped back. The thing in the room beyond looked like a cross between a rhino and a chameleon and was almost as big as a lorry. It had pressed itself very close to the glass.
    ‘His name is Frote,’ Bargath explained. ‘He likes people.’
    Morgar noticed several large bones scattered about the floor. ‘I’ll bet.’
    * * *
    The next morning, Smith bought the Ravnavari Times .
    ‘Read all abart it, guvnor!’ cried the vendorbot, opening its midriff and pulling out a folded newspaper. ‘Robot Reaper dismantles third android of easy virtue! In uvver news, Cockney computer virus runnin’ out of control an all!’
    Strolling back to the ship, Smith checked for news of yesterday’s mayhem. The Service had done its work well: the incident was on the ninth page, underneath today’s shadar-racing tips. Today’s recommendation was Women and Children First, which was either the name of a promising front-runner or sound advice if any of the shadar got loose.
    They took breakfast at Strakey’s Tiffin Rooms. It stood on a small cliff overlooking the city. Fans turned lazily overhead: a dozen diners worked their way through piles of fried food. It was nice, Smith thought, to be somewhere that had a view over the city and smelled of a different sort of grease to the hold of the John Pym . 
    Seated on the verandah, Smith ate the full English breakfast, while Carveth chose the Yardarm Special, which consisted of mackerel fried in gin with a glass of gin and gin sauce. Rhianna picked at something involving mushrooms, and plates came and went so quickly from Suruk’s place that it was hard