Chapter 13

Moving through the city was slow and tiring work, and the Hexoids were taking their toll. Their armour was unlike any Vimes had ever seen, so light it felt as though it were paper, yet resisted all but the heaviest of troll shots. Small capsules were launched from small slots on their arms, exploding into clouds of choking, eye watering gas, and small cannisters they threw, detonated with blinding white strobe lights and a deafening screech. Vimes noted that whenever the drones got close, their hands emitted blue crackling arcs of energy, which Vimes had on more than one occasion received a stunning shock from.

Every hexoid that was downed was replaced by another.

'How many of these bastards are there?' Vimes shouted to Edwin.

'Two and a half thousand originally commissioned, Commander. Why?'

'Because that's two and a half thousand reasons not to be on the street. Find a drain hole somewhere!'

'What about the new captain, commander?' He asked, twitching his head to avoid a volley of arrows from Cerrig, which downed an approaching drone.

'Hmm... Captain Bluejohn can take care of himself. Bluejohn!' He shouted to the marauding troll.

'Yes, Mister Vimes?' The captain replied, punching his fist through three drones at once, and grabbing a fourth by the hydraulic fluid covered protruding hand, popping it like a grape.

'Congratulations, you are sub-commander of the troll watch! Get your men..er...trolls to the palace anyway you can!'

'Yessir!' He saluted, the drones still skewered on his arm.

'Manhole cover, sir!' Cerrig shouted, over the noise of the flash-bangs, and pointing to a flat square hatch about five feet away, currently with a Hexoid stood on it.

'Constable!'

'On it, sir!' Two arrows whistled down, puncturing the delicate wires and pipes between the drone's head and torso.

With a heave, Edwin pulled the cover up and Vimes jumped in followed by Cerrig, and then Edwin himself. Edwin grabbed a nearby rusty iron bar and twisted it around the inner handle.

'That should hold them for a while, Commander!' He said, a small torch rising from his head plate.

'I should warn you both, many unnatural and vile things live down here now!'

Vimes grimaced. 'Some things never change, well maybe the fact I won't find anything down here being an avec in my stew at the station house.'

They walked through the dank sewers for a while in silence, eventually Edwin broke the nervous silence.

'I must admit, Commander Vimes, you are taking this temporal relocation rather well. Most of the old time travellers always went a bit...spare.'

'I've had some experience in the... Hold on! "Old Time Travellers"? You might have mentioned that earlier!'

Edwin paused for a moment.

'It did not seem relevant, Commander. And even if it had, the only working model is in the palace vaults.'

Up ahead there was a flurry of activity, causing the three to stop.

'Dwellers, Commander. We should turn back!' Edwin said.

'I think not, gentlemen!' A rasping voice came out of the shadows beside them. What emerged looked like a tall goblin, with beady black eyes, dressed in fetid rags and scraps of salvaged clothing. It wore a time battered bowler hat, from which strands of greasy, matter encrusted hair dangled like icicles.

The world disappeared in a bloom of noxious green fumes.