Last Stand of the DNA Cowboys dc-4

by Mick Farren

  'Now can we get the hell out of here?'

  'What say we grab a couple of lizards and make a run for it?'

  'Let's go.'

  They unhitched a brace of the exhausted reptiles and led them quietly off into the darkness, away from the camp. Once out of sight, they swung onto the animals' backs, not bothering with saddles. It took a number of kicks to get the beasts moving, but finally they set to lumbering up the hill that lay between the camp and the stretch of river where the boat was waiting.

  At the top of the hill, the Minstrel Boy wheeled his horse and looked back at the camp. 'There doesn't seem to be any kind of alarm.'

  Reave pulled up beside him. 'They probably won't find him until morning.'

  'If the vulture bats leave anything.'

  Reave turned his lizard's head. 'Let's get going.'

  The Minstrel Boy hesitated. 'I've got an SG.'

  'I know you have.'

  'I could beat it into the nothings.'

  'Are you going to?'

  'We could ride back into the camp and get another one.'

  Reave shook his head. 'I don't think so.'

  The Minstrel Boy raised an inquiring eyebrow. 'You don't?'

  'I'd feel bad running out on the others.'

  The Minstrel Boy did not say anything; he just sat motionless on his lizard.

  Reave looked at him questioningly. 'So are you going, or what?'

  The Minstrel Boy avoided Reave's eyes. He did not answer.

  Reave glanced back. 'Don't fuck around, man. Just go. I don't blame you.'

  The Minstrel Boy viciously spurred his mount. The reptile reared and wheeled on its hind legs, croaking in protest. He kicked it again and plunged back down the way they had come, running for the nothings.

  Reave sat and watched him go. He slowly shook his head. 'I guess that's the end of that.'

  Reave kicked his own lizard and started down the other side of the hill, toward the river. There was already the ghostglow of pseudodawn beyond the mountains. He was halfway down the hill when the shooting started. At first there was just the sound of a sudden firefight. On the far side of the hill the quiet of the night was shattered by the angry ultrasonic hiss of particle beams and a series of impact bursts. After a couple of seconds there was the pumping chatter of an automatic weapon that could only be the Minstrel Boy's AK. Reave reined in and stared back, drawing one of his pistols. His first instinct was to charge back to the Minstrel Boy's aid, but he resisted it.

  'Fuck him. He was the one who ran out.'

  He did not, however, move on. He sat gun in hand, leaning on his saddle. Not for long, though. The Minstrel Boy crested the hill with energy flashes bursting around him. He was flattened along the back of his galloping mount; the strap of the AK was cinched around his shoulder so that he could use it with one hand, and he was firing wildly behind him. Reave's lizard skittered nervously, but he kept it on a tight rein and held his ground. The Minstrel Boy pulled up beside him.

  Reave grinned. 'You're back.'

  The Minstrel Boy was out of breath. 'I got to be insane.'

  A half dozen riders came over the top of the hill. Reave stuffed the lizard's reins into his mouth and returned fire with both pistols. The riders scattered for cover. Reave put the spurs to his mount.

  'Let's get out of here!'

  They ran for the boat as fast as they could. As they galloped side by side, Reave yelled across to the Minstrel Boy. 'What happened back there?'

  'I started wondering if I was doing the right thing, and while I was wondering, this bunch who were out drinking or jerking each other off or whatever, away from the main camp, spotted me and opened up. It was lucky they were too drunk to shoot straight.'

  When they reached the river, the boat was still moored in midstream. Reave jumped from the saddle and yelled across to those on board. 'Throw down a couple of lines. We'll swim out. Get ready to go.'

  He dived straight into the cold, dark water. The Minstrel Boy groaned, then splashed in after him.

  The return to Palanaque was a headlong flight. The overseer used the lash unsparingly on the rowers, who stroked at a furious, heart attack pace. At one point Renatta drew the Minstrel Boy aside and questioned him about the SG hanging on his belt.

  'Why the hell didn't you get out while you could?'

  The Minstrel Boy, who was still in his wet clothes, drying off his knives, gave her a cold look. 'I just couldn't stay away from you, baby.'

  'You're crazy.'

  'Probably.'

  After Reave and the Minstrel Boy had both given their accounts of what they had seen in the raiders' camp, the condition of the men, and the size of the force, there was a lengthy discussion not only about what might be done to protect Palanaque but also about how Baptiste had managed to escape the destruction of Krystaleit. It was quickly decided, much to the horror of the young ensign, who believed that he was hearing blasphemy, that the city was doomed unless it immediately revised some oiks fundamental religious beliefs and took account of the ways of the real world.

  On the matter of Baptiste's survival, Renatta came up with one of the most convincing theories. 'You think it could have been that, after the capture of Krystaleit, the warlords fell out and started fighting among themselves? You said that Baptiste's men looked like they'd been on the losing end of a fight. Maybe they were run out of the city before whoever it was pulled the plug on the main generator.'

  Reave nodded. 'Could be. Those kind of guys will have a falling out at the drop of a hat.'

  The discussions on the boat were nothing compared with the talks that went down once they were back in the city. As soon as they landed, they were immediately escorted by Dass-el-Hame and a troop of soldiers to an audience with Parshew-a-Thar in the throne room of the Great Pyramid. It was there that the major frustration started to set in. The beloved Master seemed to have great difficulty grasping the real danger of his situation. He sat twisted in the lapis and gold throne with handmaidens at his feet and nefrites behind him waving ostrich-feather fans and did nothing but seize on irrelevancies.

  'Couldn't we negotiate with this Baptiste? Offer him money to go somewhere else? There are always ways around these situations.'

  The throne room did little to aid the visualization of the danger that lay at the other end of the settlement. Nothing could have been farther from the horror and squalor of Baptiste's encampment. Surrounded by such dazzling perfumed splendor, it was hard to believe that the filthy tents and wild-eyed cannibals hunched over the fires could exist in the same world. Anyone approaching the throne had to walk between twin lines of carved and gilded lotus pillars and across an elaborate marble and mosaic floor depicting the creation legend. Behind the dais that supported the throne, columns of scented vapor rose into the air and were crisscrossed by decorative lasers. Beyond the pillars, to the left of the throne, a knot of gaudily dressed courtiers, including the pair with the tall Aztec- style headdresses, watched the audience in silence while a vibra trio played a slow, soothing twelve-tone canon. To the right of the throne a squad of immaculate soldiers stood at attention, their spears at parade rest.

  Reave slowly folded his arms across his chest. He was determinedly standing his ground at the foot of the dais, feet planted firmly on the mosaic sun mother and coiling snake. The Minstrel Boy stood slightly behind him and had so far let Reave do most of the talking. Both men were doing their very best to ignore the surroundings.

  'I don't think you're quite grasping the situation.'

  The beloved Master twitched angrily. 'Don't tell me I'm not grasping the situation.'

  Reave went on regardless. 'These raiders are starving and desperate. They can't be bought off. They may not even have the option to go somewhere else. They're going to fall on this city like a swarm of heavily armed locusts and strip it bare. The only thing they aren't short of is firepower.'

  'There has to be a way to reason with them, to appeal to their logic.'

  'These are degenerates. You
can't reason with them because they're almost certainly not sane. They don't operate according to logic; they're running on some murderous feral instinct, and you can't negotiate with bloodshot psychotics. You either kill them or get out of their way.'

  'I can't accept that.'

  'You'd better accept it, man. You'd better wise up to the facts, or you're going to find your city burning around your ears.'

  The beloved Master turned puce and half rose from the throne. 'I will not be spoken to like that.'

  He was about to order his guard to arrest Reave, but then he thought better of it. Despite all of Dass-el-Hame's protests, Reave was wearing his pistols openly displayed in his belt. Even Parshew-a-Thar was not going to risk bloodshed in his own throne room. Reave, who had figured that out from the start, made one final attempt to get the beloved Master to see sense.

  'There is only one way to save your city, and that's to repeal this moronic prohibition on advanced weapons. You have a comparatively large army, and properly equipped, their numbers could make up for their inexperience, but they have to be armed.'

  The beloved Master was shaking his head. He looked like a fat, frightened baby bird. Finally he clapped his hands over his ears. He was losing what small cool he had left.

  'I won't listen to this. I've already told you how that subject is not open to discussion. General Zeum will take care of the defense of the city. I trust General Zeum. He doesn't upset me. You have upset me, and this audience is at an end.'

  Reave finally lost his temper. 'You're a fatuous idiot.'

  Parshew-a-Thar still had his hands over his ears.'I can't hear you.'

  Reave gestured to the Minstrel Boy. 'Let's get out of this insanity.'

  They turned on their heels and marched stiffly out of the throne room. The beloved Master was out of his throne and shouting at his guards.

  'Stop them! Arrest them!'

  Two of the guards approached Reave, who stopped them with a furious glare.

  'I wouldn't try it if I were you.'

  They didn't. Outside, in the first antechamber, Renatta, Blaisdell, and a somewhat groggy Billy Oblivion were waiting. They had heard a good part of the proceedings.

  'I take it it didn't go well.'

  'It's goddamn lunacy.'

  Reave rounded on Billy. 'Where the hell have you been?'

  Billy shook his head. 'Damned if I know.'

  Dass-el-Hame came hurrying out of the throne room. 'You've done a terrible thing. The beloved Master is beside himself with rage.'

  Reave snarled angrily at him. 'Terrible? You think that's terrible? When Baptiste gets here, you're all going to have to revise your definition of the word "terrible."

  Renatta interrupted the exchange before it could go any further. Reave was starting to look as though he might hit the courtier.

  'More to the point, what are we going to do now?'

  Reave calmed down a little. 'We're going to see Showcross Gee. If nothing else, he can release us from our contracts. We can't be ordered into a situation that is plainly suicidal.'

  Showcross Gee appeared to be expecting them. It was the first time any of them had been in the section of the Great Pyramid that had been taken over by the metaphysicians. It was another shiftspace, an internal area that was much larger than the external dimensions would logically allow, much like the one Reave had seen in the ziggurat in the little settlement that had been the target of his final raid with Baptiste. It had the same pyramid-shaped space, with a square floor and triangular sides that leaned in to a central apex point. A larger but otherwise identical pyramid-shaped block hung in the air with no visible means of support. Unlike the starkly bare chamber inside the ziggurat, this one seemed to be undergoing some kind of highly technological construction. Cables and glowing plasma conduits snaked across the floor, and a towering rack system housed a complexly sophisticated biode. A large disk-shaped object some thirty feet across was being assembled in sections directly beneath the floating pyramid.

  Showcross Gee's only companion in the chamber was Stent. It was starting to look as though the metaphysician was using the metal man as a permanent bodyguard. Reave was curious to know what the man thought he had to fear. There was no sign of any of the other metaphysicians, and it had to be assumed that this chamber was not the only space they occupied in the Great Pyramid.

  'I understand that you have seen the enemy.'

  Reave looked slowly around the chamber and nodded.'That's right. We went to their camp.'

  'And I also understand that the beloved Master is having a little trouble discarding his illusions.'

  Renatta regarded the metaphysician with deep suspicion. 'You seem very well informed.'

  'We loosed a few snoopers into the environment of this pyramid. These people have no means of detecting them, although why they should even bother is debatable. They are incapable of keeping secrets.'

  'So you only use the snoopers for a little electronic early warning?'

  Showcross Gee nodded. 'Exactly.'

  'Then you most probably heard what we were discussing in the anteroom.'

  'We cannot release you from your contracts at this time.'

  Blaisdell gave him a hard look. 'You can't expect us to simply stay here and die.'

  Reave glanced at Lister Stent. 'Where do you stand in all this? Still just carrying out orders?'

  The metal man inclined his head slightly. 'Quite the reverse. I'm with you in this. I cannot see how we can legitimately be ordered to remain here under the current situation. We have the right to protect our own lives in a set of circumstances that are quite beyond our control.'

  Showcross Gee looked from one contract warrior to the next. 'Your lives will be preserved. You have my guarantee.'

  Reave did not look as if he believed a word of it. 'You seem to be hanging on to a few illusions of your own. That's Vlad Baptiste up at the other end of the settlement. He's pathological about you people, and he isn't going to stop until you're all dead. We have no way of protecting either you or ourselves unless the Palanaquii wise up.'

  Showcross Gee waited a full ten seconds before he spoke. He slowly extended a hand in the direction of the half-completed disk. 'All we need here is another forty-eight hours to finish our work.'

  Billy Oblivion swayed. 'What the hell is that? An old-time flying saucer?'

  Showcross Gee ignored him. 'When our work is done, there will be a unique escape route for all of us.'

  Reave was unbending. 'This city won't hold for forty-eight hours. There's a chance that Baptiste may have a couple of aircraft.'

  That was obviously news to the metaphysician. He was silent and thoughtful. 'It would be a mistake to leave here at this time.'

  'It'd be suicide not to.'

  'I've already told you that we can take control of the Great Pyramid and seal ourselves in.'

  Reave was shaking his head. 'I don't know.'

  'Consider this. There is one thing that could make Baptiste negotiate with the beloved Master.'

  'What's that?'

  'Us.'

  Reave knew that he should have thought of that himself. It was glaringly obvious.

  'You think that Parshew-a-Thar would ask Baptiste to spare the city if he turned over the metaphysicians?'

  Showcross Gee half smiled. 'The metaphysicians and their seven mercenaries.'

  'Okay, everyone's ass is on the line.'

  Having made his point, Showcross Gee went on. 'I think it's almost a certainty. The court of Palanaque may be blinkered and stupid, but they're clutching at straws. It's bound to occur to them. It they don't think of it, Baptiste certainly will. You've described how his men are close to exhaustion. He may see it as a way to avoid an immediate direct assault on the city himself.'

  'He'll never keep his word.'

  'Of course he won't, but the Palanaquii will want to believe him so badly that they'll go along with any nonsense. Once he's disposed of us, he can destroy the city and its population at his leisure.'
/>   'I still think our only practical option is to leave immediately. '

  Showcross Gee was being unusually patient. 'Let me make a suggestion.'

  Reave raised an eyebrow. 'An offer?'

  Showcross Gee looked at him coldly. 'A suggestion.'

  Reave sighed. 'Okay, a suggestion.'

  'You will hold to your contract for two more days. Military contact with Baptiste's raiders will be strictly at your own discretion unless we are directly threatened. Your only duties will be to protect us in any situation where our lives and liberty are at risk, regardless of whether the threat comes from Baptiste or the Palanaquii. The moment the situation in the city becomes untenable, we will retreat in here and seal the pyramid.'

  'All of us will retreat into the pyramid?' Renatta asked.

  Showcross Gee eyed her curiously. 'You don't trust me at all, do you?'

  'Should I?'

  'I'm afraid you may have to before this thing's over.'

  'So do we all get into the pyramid?'

  'If it is humanly possible. You have my word.'

  'And once inside you will include us all in this mysterious way out?'

  'That's correct.'

  'Do you want to explain this escape route to us?'

  Showcross Gee shook his head. 'Not yet.'

  'Just another item that we have to take on trust?'

  'For the moment.'

  Reave turned to Stent.'How does all this sit with you? You're the one with the fine-tuned sense of duty.'

  Stent raised a metal hand. 'Under the terms of our contract, it sounds like a legitimate request.'

  Reave scowled. 'And if it was couched as a direct order, you'd be compelled to enforce it.'

  Stent reluctantly half bowed, his armor making a soft, sad squeaking noise. 'I'm afraid that I would.'

  Reave faced the metaphysician. 'It looks like you have your two days.'

  Showcross Gee laid a calming hand on his arm, 'You shouldn't take it all so personally, Reave Mekonta.'

  Reave's shoulders sagged. He was suddenly very tired. Although he hated to admit it, the metaphysician was right. The man was doing the best he could according to his own weird priorities. 'All we can hope is that Baptiste takes his time coming.'