I thought that you said it only looked like a grenade launcher? I know it's easier to call it a grenade launcher now, but you don't get off scott-free for doing it, Reilly.
He fired it three times, each shot emitting a loud puncture-like phump.
Phump!-Phump!-Phump!
I love our little talks, Reilly. You're like an overly excited child telling us what he did today.
The rounds that pumped out of the grenade launcher looked like grenades, but they weren't grenades - fat and round and silver, they fanned out to three corners of the giant cavern, little red pilot lights on them blinking.
These are the Warblers.
They are stupid.
The Europeans heard the first shot and by the third they had located Wizard.
And then they riddled him with bullets.
 |
| If only |
His bullet went haywire.
It peeled downwards almost as soon as it left the barrel of the Frenchman's rifle - where it struck an unfortunate croc in the head, killing it instantly.
The "Warblers" at work.
As if we couldn't have guessed that, Matthew. And take a shot for the haywire sentence.
The three odd-looking rounds that Wizard fired were more formally known as Closed Atmospheric Field Destabilisers (Electromagnetic), but everyone just called them "Warblers".
One of Wizard's rare military inventions, the Warblers created a magnetic field that disrupted the flight of high subsonic metal objects -specifically bullets- creating a gunfire free zone.
So, there are magnetic fields in these things which only affect bullets? How does that work? This is one of the more fantastical aspects of the book (especially considering that after "Contest" and "Temple", Matthew has seemingly ditched outright science fiction elements from his works) and falls immediately at the first hurdle. Also, the final part of that sentence is soon contradicted, so take a shot.
Wizard, one of the leading experts in electromagnetic applications, had sold the revolutionary technology to Raytheon in 1988 for $25 million, most of which went to the New York venture capital company that bankrolled his research. Walking away with only $2 million, Wizard had sworn to never again work with venture capitalists.
Those venture capitalists. Bourgeoise scum.
 |
| Wizards: Heroes of the people, leaders of the revolution! |
That's not irony, Matthew.
Naturally, Wizard - a Canadian, not an American- had kept a few working prototypes for himself, three of which he was now using.
Not American. Take a shot for the clarification. Those blasted Canadians!
The Seven burst out from their manhole, one after the other, moving fast, heading for the nearest embedded ladder up to the first level.
Oh good. I thought they'd come out in one go, like a Laurel and Hardy sketch.
As he ran in the middle of the group, West set Horus free and the little peregrine falcon soared above the forward moving group.
Oh yes! The best character has been unleashed! The Europeans stand no chance now! The book has radically changed pace and become a totally different genre. Alright Matthew, I'm back on board!
 |
| The life and times of Horus. |
We've not forgotten who Fuzzy is, Matthew, you've introduced us to him twice already. Take a shot.
Fuzzy held in is hands a lightweight titanium bar welded in the shape of an X.
They're about to bypass another trap. Oh, I'm sorry, if that against the rules?! Fuzzy must have a pocket dimension on his belt.
Halfway along its length, the walkway ended briefly at a small void. In the centre of this void was a raised square stepping-stone that also stood flush against the wall and an inch above the croc-filled water. Cut into the stone wall immediately above this stepping-stone was a dark hole about a metre in diameter.
Take a shot for the italics. Why is that word made prominent? Are we supposed to be surprised at this? Are we supposed to be shocked that it isn't to the left or right of the stone?
Fuzzy didn't miss a beat.
I'd hope not, what with all of the "dancing" they've been doing along these edges. Take a shot.
He leapt from the walkway onto the stepping stone -
- and immediately heard a rush of water from up inside the wall hole, accompanied by a low crocodilian growl-
- at which point he jammed his titanium X-bar into the wall-hole and hit a switch on the bar.
Thwack!
That was the sound of West's team breaking "the rules".
So, avoiding the traps is a bad thing, but breaking them is totally within the rules? Reilly has absolutely no respect for the ancient architectural masterworks he has spent the last few paragraphs fawning over. Also, take a shot for the "Thwack". That entire sequence was a mess, and that is exactly how it is written, I've not changed it at all.
The X-shaped bar expanded with a powerful spring-loaded motion, so that suddenly it was wedged tightly in the mouth of the circular wall hole.
GAY PORN COUNT: 21! COME ON MAN! That HAD to be intentional!
Not a second too soon.
Take a shot.
An instant later, a burst of water gushed out of the wall-hole,
Gay porn count: 22.
immediately followed by the jaws of of a massive crocodile that slammed at tremendous speed into the X-bar!
Oh boy. That was almost exciting. How does Matthew Reilly manage to bugger up tunnels firing crocodiles?!
The croc roared angrily
I know your pain, crocodile, I know your pain...
but its jaws were caught against the X-bar, unable to get past. The rush of water sprayed all around Fuzzy, but it didn't knock him over.
"Trap One! Clear!" He called.
Take three shots.
The others were already there with him, moving fast, and as Fuzzy kept watch over the writhing croc trapped in the wall-hole, they danced safely by.
I thought that they "dashed" when I first read that. Of course I was being silly, that would be far too sensible a choice of word for a Reilly novel. Fuzzy is a bit of a jerk for staring at the helpless crocodile: like one of those kids who spears spiders on pins and watches them die.
 |
| Like this, but not anywhere near as sexy. |
Sure, just leave Fuzzy there... Dicks.
The Europeans could only watch in helpless amazement as the Seven raced along the opposite wall to the base of the rockface.
Base of the rockface.
This book's a disgrace
It's a travesty to the human race.
Now drop the bass!
Alone among them, Francisco del Piero eyed West -eyed him with an ice cold gaze- watching him running with Lily at his side, gripping her hand.
Well, that was creepy. Thanks Matthew.
"Well, well, well..." del Piero said. "Who have you got there, Captain West?"
Dun, dun dunnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!
See you next week, folks.
Here's some more Idris to tide you over.
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