The Doomsday Machine (Horatio Lyle) - Plot & Excerpts
Some liked humans, some thought they were the scourge of the earth; some didn’t particularly mind iron so long as it kept a safe distance away from them and wasn’t particularly magnetic, and even then it would probably bring them out in a rash; some found the merest thought of going within five miles of the city painful, a crawl across their skin. Some liked Beethoven, some liked the populist delights of a Punch and Judy show, some despised both as impure cultural art forms and longed for the plangent twang of the nose flute - no way round it, there were Tseiqin and there were Tseiqin. And then there was Lin Zi. And Lin Zi was . . . different. The fact that she walked unashamed through the streets of London in a top hat and black trousers a little too short for her, sporting a long black coat that flapped around her knees - this would be forgivable. After all, actresses and other creatures of the night were also rumoured to commit such travesties. Her obvious foreignness, her dark almond skin and laughing green eyes, would also have been pardonable, maybe even an object of curiosity as the masses turned to stare.
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