Time of Trial by Michael Pryor

of the affray.
    All the customers had fled, as had the waiters. Von Stralick was standing with his back to the door, which was now closed. He had his wallet in his hand and he was counting bank notes.
    Kiefer held a hand on his head, and was groaning.
    Caroline was standing between Professor Glauber and Aubrey, twitching her attention to either side, as if daring either of them to do anything foolish.
    George had thrown away the hatstand. ‘Old man?’
    â€˜All present and accounted for,’ Aubrey muttered. The room swam before his eyes, but he decided that was preferable to blackness.
    The telephone had been ripped from the wall, but the earpiece was still attached. And half of Professor Glauber had disappeared into it. The telephone had swallowed his entire arm and part of his chest.
    He was lying, eyes open, staring unseeing at the ceiling. His neck was twisted in a way that made Aubrey feel even sicker. ‘He’s not breathing.’
    â€˜I say,’ George said. He nudged the professor with his foot. ‘Look.’
    The professor’s coat had been torn away by George’s hatstand attack. Underneath lay the real shock.
    Professor Glauber was made of clay. His torso was dull brown, roughly formed, and Aubrey was both fascinated and repelled to see that copper wire peeped through.
    George crouched and reached out a hand to the creature’s face.
    â€˜Don’t,’ Caroline said.
    â€˜I think we have to.’ George unbuttoned the collar, took a fold of skin, just underneath the creature’s neck, and tugged.
    It came away with the sound of old paper, dry and rustling, exposing more copper wire overlaid with clay. Wincing, Aubrey crept closer and examined the extraordinary creature.
    He touched its cheek. It was remarkable. Extremely lifelike, it was starting to craze and harden – but Aubrey could see minute pores and blemishes in its surface. All its facial features were natural, down to small, ruddy veins on either side of the prominent nose. It was a work of art. Anything that was showing looked perfectly human. Anything that was hidden by clothing was rougher – clay over an armature of copper wire. Aubrey saw this as a blending of the magical animation of golem clay with the connective and conducting power of copper wire.
    â€˜Kiefer,’ he said. ‘How much does this look like Professor Glauber?’
    Kiefer had been staring, wide-eyed. ‘Look like? Are you saying this isn’t him?’
    â€˜Not unless Professor Glauber was a golem.’
    â€˜A golem?’ Caroline stared. ‘Is that what a golem looks like?’
    â€˜Not usually. This is a kind I’ve never seen before.’
    George helped Aubrey to his feet. A glass of water was pushed into his hand and he had a sense of déjà vu when he saw that it was Kiefer who had fetched it.
    Aubrey nodded. A presence had lurked at the other end of the telephone and that presence was unmistakeable. ‘Dr Tremaine.’
    â€˜Are you sure?’ von Stralick said.
    â€˜He’s the only one who could do this sort of thing.’ And I felt him there, at the end of the line.
    Kiefer nodded. ‘Do you have any hesitation about our course of action now?’
    Aubrey felt at a juncture. With the world in such a precarious position, the actions of one powerful man could tip the balance. In Dr Tremaine’s case, this was in the direction of war.
    Kiefer wanted revenge, but could assisting Kiefer help stop the war?
    The argument smacked of ends justifying means, an argument that Aubrey was automatically suspicious of, but in this case there was much to recommend such a course of action.
    Not the least was helping Caroline achieve her goal.
    For such a rational person, Caroline was singleminded about Dr Tremaine. Could Aubrey rise in Caroline’s estimation by doing something about her obsession?
    It’s a pragmatic decision , he thought, but deep down, he was uneasy. He