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THE HIGH-TECH SUPERHERO
Mild-mannered Walter Nebicher, computer wizard for the Los Angeles Police Department, has a side to him that few suspect. No, he’s not superman in disguise, but he’s created a superbeing: Automan.
Automan is a walking, talking extension of Walter’s computer. He has all kinds of powers. He can think and move at superspeeds. He can appear out of thin air. Bullets can’t hurt hi. He even glows in the dark. But when it comes to human behaviour, he’s got a lot to learn...
Together, Walter and Automan are going to shake up the city — and the Police Department.
Walter slid out from Automan, and over into the passenger seat. As the sleek vision approached the garage attendant, he stared out from his booth. ‘Hey, what’re you doing?’ he yelled out. ‘Slow down, slow –’ The machine raced by without slowing and passed right through the crossbar without touching it. Walter meanwhile was draped over the top bar, his feet dangling over one side and his arms the other. But a few seconds later Autocar stopped abruptly, shot backwards through the crossbar and
electric razors, toothbrushes and heaters.’ He was almost invisible now. ‘I’m sorry, Walter. Keep me programmed. I’ll be there when the facts warrant my presence.’ Almost simultaneously Automan and Cursor snapped out of Walter’s dimension. In desperation, he rushed over to where the hologram had been and felt it. An empty, useless gesture. ‘God,’ he groaned. ‘What have I done? I thought I felt helpless before.’ A sound came from the basement. He broke into a grin and rushed downstairs. ‘Auto,
Tanya replied gloomily, ‘if I were to judge by the guards and fortifications.’ Cramer stared and licked his lips as two shapely bikini-clad, bronze-skinned girls sauntered past them. ‘Does this look like a prison?’ he said sceptically. ‘Can we leave?’ she pointed out. ‘Where would you go?’ Hamilton chuckled. ‘This is about all there is in this part of the Alps.’ ‘Please...’ Cramer turned to face Hamilton. ‘What am I doing here?’ ‘Exactly what you do back home,’ came a familiar voice from
and forensic teams and shouted across at Smithers. ‘What happened?’ Smithers made his way through the herd of bystanders that littered the downtown garage where the shooting had taken place. ‘The parking lot personnel reported hearing gunshots,’ he shouted back over the wail of police sirens. ‘When they arrived on the scene they found Lieutenant Curtis’s weapon, and bloodstains behind his car which match his type.’ Boyd ran his fingers through his thinning hair and replaced his hat. ‘What was
of Ski Patrolmen and carrying Uzi submachine guns, stood at either side as the gates opened automatically and allowed the vehicles to pass through into the complex of buildings that formed the Alpine Institute of Technology. ‘Drink in the freshness of the Alps, Lieutenant,’ said Lydell Hamilton in a rich, deep purr. ‘This will be your home for some time.’ He drew open the curtains and window of the ultra-modern rest-room and turned to view his latest arrival lying pale and haggard in the