s right hand wrapped about a whisky glass。 Professor Slobe was at his desk amongst his books and Sherlock Holmes was nowhere to be seen。
Upon Jim's noisy entrance； the sole of his right boot having chosen this inopportune moment to part pany with its aged leather upper； John and the Professor looked up from their separate reveries and greeted the new arrival。 'Help yourself； Jim；' said the old man。 'I think you will find the fruits of my cellar eminently more stimulating than those of the Swan。'
'Praise be for that；' said Jim Pooley； liberally acquainting himself with the decanter。
'So now；' said the Professor； once Jim had hopped into a fortable chair and eased off his rogue brogue； 'there are a good many things that I must tell you this evening。 Few of which you will find forting； I fear。'
We're off to a good start； thought Jim； but he kept it to himself。
'As you are both aware； Brentford is now pletely surrounded by an impenetrable barrier。' The two men nodded gloomily； they were a long way from Rio and that was a fact。 'And no doubt you have been asking each other why？'
'Never gave it a thought；' said Jim。 Omally leaned forward and smote him a painful blow to his naked sole。
'Thank you； John。 Now it is my wish to put you both in the picture as far as I am able。 It is essential that you understand what we face。 Those of us with the power and the will to fight grow fewer by the day。
Soon； if the thing is not stopped； there will be none remaining。' Pooley did not like the sound of that very much at all。 'I will start at the very beginning。'
'Do so； sir；' said Jim。
'In the beginning was the word and the word was with God and God was the word。。。'
'Hold hard there；' Pooley interrupted。 'From Genesis to the Revelation is a long haul by any standard。 Might we just skip right through to it now？'
'All right； but let me briefly explain。 The God of Adam brought something to the world which had not existed before。 He brought light。 To our perception there is but one God； the true God。 But our forefathers believed in an entire pantheon of Elder Gods。 These rose and fell with their temples； for how can a god exist when there are none to worship him？ It is the balance of equipoise； the harmony of the spheres。 Each new and rising god replaces his predecessor when his temple is cast down and his followers no longer believe。 Allow me to suggest the possibility that dark and sinister gods existed prior to the word which brought light to our Mother Earth。'
'Sounds pretty iffy so far；' John observed。
'Oh； it gets far worse later on；' the Professor replied。 'This is just the prawn cocktail； by cheese and biscuits you'll be thoroughly sick。'
'I have a strong stomach；' said John； refilling his glass。
'Now；' the old man continued； 'in the beginning of the world we know； our God brought light and created man。 Before this time existed only utter cold and utter confusion where reigned the Elder Gods of darkness； unchallenged。 With the ing of light and the creation of man they were cast down with their temples。 But gods do not die； they sleep and they dream。 The old serpent entered Eden to tempt man back to the darkness； he sowed the seed of doubt in him。 Doubt in the power of his Creator。 God drove back the serpent but the damage was already done。 The serpent never left Eden you see； he slept； and he dreamed； awaiting the time when he would rise again。 That time is now upon us。 Through the exercise of what man thought to be his own free will he has furthered the aims of the serpent。 The prophecies are even now being fulfilled； as testified by your palm there； Jim。' Pooley pocketed his tattooed mit。 'Man has； through the influence of the serpent； given genesis to his own replacement： simply； the thinking machine。'
'I； Robot？' said Omally。 'I've read all that。 Machines do not think； they are programmed merely to respond； they answer questions but with the answers that were already fed into them。 puters do not have souls。'
'There now；' said Professor Slobe； 'you have saved me my old breath。 They have no souls。 It is man's soul alone which prevents him slipping back into the darkness。 The soul cries out to the light； the soul worships the light。 Replace man and the temple of the lord of light is cast down。 The darkness returns。'
'The whole menu was a bowl of sprouts；' said Omally bitterly。 'I am going to be sick。'
'It all sounds somewhat eclectic；' remarked Jim； surprising even himself。 'I do not pretend to understand much of it。'
'Like the sprout； it takes a bit of swallowing；' the Professor replied。 'What I am trying to say is this： puter science is founded upon the silicon chip。 It has long been suggested by scientists that life might exist elsewhere in the universe； life possibly with a silicon base。 They do not seem to realize that they have created it here on Earth； at the behest of a hidden master。 When man is made subservient to the machine he is no longer in control of his own destiny。 Therefore he is no longer the dominant species。 The people of Brentford are being replaced one after another by duplicates of themselves。 Soulless robots programmed to worship their master。 Unless we act quickly； then all we have ever known will be lost。'
Pooley solemnly removed his wristlet watch and cast it into the fire。 The plastic crackled amongst the flames； and； to add further horror to a conversation which had already been a far cry from a cosy fireside chat； a shrill voice shrieked out from the flames calling for mercy。
Omally crossed himself。 'I believe；' he said simply。
'Then you will fight with me？'
'I think that we have little choice。 Jim？'
Pooley raised his unmarked palm。 'Count me in； I suppose；' said he。
17
The conversation wore long into the night。 John and Jim were anxious to know exactly what plans the Professor had formulated； but the old man was obstinately vague in his replies。 It was either that he was as yet uncertain as to what had to be done； or that he had already set certain wheels in motion and feared the two men might； out of their eagerness to pitch in for the cause； confound them。 Whatever the case； Jim at length returned to his rooms and fell into a most uneasy sleep beset with ghastly dreams of mechanical monsters and bogey men who loomed up from every darkened corner。 Omally； as ever； slept the sleep of the just； which was quite unjust of him； considering he had no right to do it。
At around eleven the next morning； the two men met up outside the Flying Swan。 Pooley emptied what pennies remained to him into the outspread palm of his fellow。 'He won't take my cash any more； simply runs his damn little wand over my hand。 It gives me little pleasure。'
'If there is a word of truth to anything the Professor told us； then at least we have a vague idea what's going on。'
'Vague would be your man； John； this is well out of my league。'
'That is a nice suit you have on there；' Omally observed as Jim strode on before him into the Swan。 'If a little tight across the shoulders perhaps。'
The pale young man in the headphones stood as ever behind the jump。 Nothing had been heard of Neville since he had been whisked away in the ambulance。 The Sisters of Mercy said that he had been moved to another hospital but seemed uncertain where。 The fact that ownership of the brewery had changed hands suggested that Brentford had seen the last of the part…time barman。 'Replacement；' the Professor had said； it was a more than unsettling business。 And the thought that duplicates were even now being created to replace each living individual in Brentford was no laughing matter。
'Usual please；' said Jim； extending his palm。
The man in the headset ran his electronic pen across the outstretched appendage and cleared his throat with a curiously mechanical coughing sound。 'Great day for the race；' he said。
'Yours or mine？' muttered Jim beneath his breath。
Omally bought his own。 'It's just not the same any more；' he sighed； as he bore his pint over to the table Jim now occupied。 'I miss the thrill of the chase。'
'I don't think anything is ever going to be the same again；' said Pooley unhappily。 'All is finished here。 If only we had legged it away in time we would never be sitting here trapped like rats； waiting to be replaced by piles of diodes。'
John shook his head。 'It is a bad one to be sure。 No doubt the walls will expand to finally engulf the whole world； but the Professor never did explain why it all started right here。'
'Well； I suppose it had to start somewhere and Brentford； although worse than some； is； as the world knows； better than most。 But it is the unfairness of it that gets my dander up。 Me； with money to burn and two dozen High Street shops to burn it in。 My God； I'm doing my best； but what about teas at the Ritz and the Concorde flight to the Bahamas？ Such things are day to day affairs for lads with my kind of scratch。 I can't even buy people drinks。 My entire wealth is without purpose。'
'The Professor warned you； Jim； the money wasn't meant for you。'
'This beer is definitely not what it was。' Pooley raised his pint and held it towards the light。 Through the clear amber liquid a row of puter lines etched on to the glass twinkled like th