'Aw shucks,' responded Boz, 'did I forget to tell ya? Hell, I'm real sorry. But this here is our number one secret weapon. He's my other partner. Goes by the name of Renton Tenting. And he's an ace, I can tell you. An' we don't do nothin' without him. An' I mean, nothin'.'
'He works for you?' queried the Lagooner. 'He's one of your employees?'
'No, like I said. He's my other partner. Him, me and Miss Maiden here. Weez all jus' one team. We come as one lot.' And then the humour in Boz's voice went for its lunch. 'An' so where we goes, he goes. Understand?'
Both Lagooners nodded as one. And five seconds later all five of the players were standing on the other side of the now closed door, and it was time for a further display of unusual Lagooner behaviour. This time it was anguish, barely disguised anguish.
'We must know who's responsible,' started the Lagooner with the talking part, 'and we must know now. It is very important.'
'You mean like which lill' ole band of artistes been whiskin' away your brethren…'
'Yes, of course that's what we mean,' interrupted the anonymous Lagooner. There still hadn't been time for formal introductions.
'An' you gonna tell us why this is so important? I mean, why you need to know this in such a darn hurry? An' why…'
'We cannot do that,' he interrupted again. 'But we do need to know. And now. Straightaway. It is no less than vital.'
'Well, OK. It's jus' that we'd have liked to…'
But he got no further. Boz chalked up his hat-trick of interruptions in under ten seconds, almost a personal best for the season. But this time the truncator of his prose was Renton. For Renton, it seemed, had decided that enough was enough. That just too many things had been happening on this ship that he didn't understand - or didn't even know about - and that it was about time he learnt what at least some of them meant.
'Wait,' he said. 'Let's not be quite so keen to give them what they want. Let's just see whether we might want something in return.'
The two Lagooners now looked positively shocked. And Boz and Madeleine looked a little surprised themselves. Only Renton - despite being astonished at his own bravado - looked in any way composed.
'You see, gentlemen,' he continued, now addressing the Lagooners directly, 'there are a number of things I have observed aboard this remarkable spacecraft that are both mysterious and disconcerting.'
He paused to let their obvious sense of shock settle itself into a feeling of outright alarm. Then he went on.
'Let me be brief. I can see you have little time to spare. Let me just say that I have seen on this ship, people having probes inserted into their heads, others being cut up as though they were the Sunday joint - and then bits of people - presumably the results of this latter action - floating around in so many giant jars. And, gentlemen, I would like to know what this all means. Why you appear to be treating some of your paying guests with a little less than the normal standards of courtesy. In short: you tell us why you're chopping up the passengers and we'll tell you what you want to know. Well, that is, we might - if you've anything like a plausible explanation.
'So there you are: a trade. You tell us your secrets and we'll tell you ours.'
The Lagooners were speechless. They appeared to have no idea of what to do or of how to respond. Then, as Renton studied their faces, he saw that they didn't look shocked any more, but rather they looked simply vacant. In that moment he knew Boz was right. There was some sort of telepathy thing going on here. These two were at it now. They were debating the issue with the other Lagooners. Or somewhere else a decision was being made, a joint decision involving more than these two Lagooners, or maybe even all of them. If Renton was to learn what he wanted to know, it would be because there was a group consensus that he should. And that decision would be taken because this wider group of Lagooners, all of them, wanted to know the identity of the kidnappers. It was that important to them all.
Then the vacancy went, and the talkative Lagooner began to speak. He was hesitant at first. But then that was understandable. It must have been the first time that what he was saying had ever been said to a non-Lagooner, to someone outside their own world.
'OK… I can tell you… I can explain… It's not the passengers… What you've seen… what you've seen is us. The surgery, the brain work, the storage jars. None of it's to do with the passengers on this ship. It's all to do with ourselves, all of it. You see, we're… well, the easiest way to explain it is that we're recycled. Every one of us. But we're not the very best advertisement for recycling. We have to refurbish ourselves at very frequent intervals. And that… well, that involves our being dismantled. And our parts then being rejuvenated, before they're reassembled again. You see, there are a finite number of us, and we have to retain that number through this… through this chopping up activity you've observed. And that's it. That's all it is. And, of course, we do nothing to harm our passengers. There's no "borrowing" or anything like that. We really are entirely self-sufficient, I assure you.'
Then he stopped. He'd just imparted one of the most astounding revelations Renton had ever heard in his life, and now he was silent, waiting no doubt for Renton's payment in kind and clearly about as uninterested as it was possible to be in Renton's intellectual, spiritual or ethical reaction to his news.
It was time for Renton to show some hesitancy. Indeed he hardly knew where to start.
'Well…'
That was where he often started when he really didn't know where to start, but it was at least a familiar opener.
'Well…' he repeated. Then he had a really extended hesitancy hiatus, which he finally ended with a desperately drawn out 'Urrrrhummm'.
Then inspiration. 'Thank you. Yes, thank you very much. I can't… uh, I can't thank… I mean, I mean I can't thank… No, I mean…'
And at last it was Boz's turn to interrupt.
'It's that there troupe of blonde-haired women you want. You know. Those big babes with the leather an' stuff. They're your kidnappers. Though we don't know who's runnin' their act, who's behind them an' callin'…'
But before he could finish, they were off. Their recycled employers had the information they wanted and they were off to use it as fast as they could.
Renton, Boz and Madeleine found themselves suddenly unwanted and abandoned - and abandoned to their thoughts.
Renton's thoughts were a sort of extended mental 'wow'. Like his partners, he was only too aware of the magic of modern medicine, and in particular its ability to provide spares of just about every body part you could ever want. But this was something different. This was life through body parts. And an indefinite life. And not only that. It had already been going on for a very long time. That was the implication in the way they'd explained it. Heck, they could have been doing it for generations! Only, of course, they didn't have generations. They just went on using their own bodies to recreate themselves - over and over again.
And he knew it was all true. The translucent quality of their skin. The apparent changes he'd observed in Orphenia's appearance. And, of course, Orphenia's healing powers and her petition not to judge her or her kind too harshly. There was some sort of miracle going on on board this ship, and he, Renton Tenting, had just had it revealed to him. It was a bit of a stunner, and well worth any length of mental wowing.
But then Madeleine broke the silence that had gripped them all. She did it with a simple: 'crikey.'
'Yes, my dear,' agreed Boz. 'This is one hell of a crikey thing. I ain't heard such a story even from my ole grandpap. An' he had a whole host of them, I can tell ya. Only I don't think many of them were too spot on true, if yous know what I mean. But this one. Well, there ain't no doubt about it. These dudes really are what they say - redone dudes, and redone over and over again…'
'And they are telepathic,' added Renton. 'You were right. I saw it in their eyes. They were communicating with their other mates. I'm bloody sure of it.
'In fact, it might be what the kidnappers are after: the secret of telepa
thy…'
'Or the secret of indefinite recycling,' suggested Madeleine. 'Or maybe both. Either one's a bit of a catch. But the two of them together. Well, that's a real prizewinner. I'm surprised there aren't dozens of kidnappers on this ship. All fighting it out amongst themselves. Or maybe there are.'
'No, my dear. I think not. I think we have just the buxom ladies to contend with - and, o' course, whoever it is who has them on a lill' ole leash. An' I also think I know how we might contend with them - in the immediacy so t' speak. I mean, how we might be right real useful to these here current clients of ours. And right straightaway…'
'Come on then,' encouraged Madeleine, 'let us in on it. I haven't a clue. Not even half a clue if I'm honest.'
At this point Boz displayed a remarkable cross-species expression. His big reptilian mug took on the most sheepish of grins. Then he sighed.
'Well, my dear, I will,' he began. 'But first off, may I just apologise for my remarkable powers of deduction and intuition, which, on this occasion, have behaved themselves right real impeccably, and have equipped this here modest reptilian with the insight necessary to comprehend this most puzzlin' of enigmas.'
'What?' spluttered Madeleine.
'I think Boz is going to astound us with his intellect - again,' offered Renton, 'and he's just preparing us for it. So we won't resent it - or throw up on the spot. You know, that sort of thing. And I'm right, aren't I, Boz? You're going to make us look like a couple of complete dumbos. Just like you've done before.'
'Mmm, not intentionally, my dear partners. But yes, almost inevitably. So I'll say my sorry now. An' then I'll get on with what Ize to do.'
Then Boz giggled. And then he exposed his brilliance.
'Well, first off, I wuz pretty damn sure 'bout the telepathy bit. I always have been. And now we know that it's jus' between them; it's a sorta intra-Lagooner thing, an' nothin' more than that. If it was more than that, they wouldn't have needed to ask us about those broads, would they? They'd have seed it in your head, Renton. Or in yours, Madeleine. But they didn't… An' that's fine. And, more important, it fits…'
'Fits what?' asked Madeleine.
'Well, ya see, I had my suspicions about the recyclin' bit as well - on account of these dudes always lookin' a bit different each week. I mean, individual dudes. Always seemed to be a bit shorter or a bit longer or a bit broader in the beam. So, with this telepathy and this recyclin' thing, I've been tryin', for some time now, to build up a hypotenuse on what's goin' on.'
'A hypothesis,' corrected Madeleine.
'Yeah, like I said, a hypotenuse.
'An' well, rather than me jus' tellin' you what this here hypotenuse is, let me ask you a question. And it's this: have either of you ever seen more than three of these here Lagooner chappies together?'
Madeleine and Renton both shook their head.
'Right. And now we know that there's ten of them been abucted… aducted… taken away against their will. An' we also knows that somethin' has gone and happened to them, that has caused these goonies - I mean, those who still have their liberty - to go near apeshit with concern - if you'll pardon my French. Hell, they've jus' given us the biggest secret they got, jus' so they could find out who the kidnappers were. An' that sounds pretty desperate to me.'
'So what has happened to them?' asked Madeleine.
'They've been woken up. That's what's happened to them. Cos I think they've been unconscious. But now they're all awake - and all together. I mean, they're in a group, all in a room somewhere. An' remember the telepathy bit. The unkidnapped Lagooners will know this - on account of how their stolen friends are back in transmittin' mode again.'
'But what's this got to do with your hypothesis,' queried Madeleine. 'I don't understand.'
'Ah, but I think I'm with you on the telepathy bit,' interjected Renton. 'It's the transmitting, isn't it? With ten of them together, you've got a powerful transmission source. That's what you're getting at, isn't it? Normally there's no more than one or two of them in one place, so the transmission source is weak. And that means…'
And here Renton hesitated before going on.
'…uh, no, wait a minute. If all the other Lagooners are still transmitting as well… well, all you've got is some vast matrix of transmissions. And I'm not sure I see… I mean, I thought… I mean, I was…'
'You was jus' on the edge of thinkin' about another way they might be transmittin,' assisted Boz. 'That's what you're tryin' to say, ain't it, Renton?'
Boz was now in grinning mode again. And he was grinning because he was about to deliver his exposé.
'Cos you see that's what it's all about. It ain't a set up where like all these here Lagooners telepathise with each other. No, it's like a system where they all call in to some home base. An' this home base is their… well, it's like it's their essence, their id, where the home fires a-keep on burnin' - with whatever it is that they need to fuel this here recyclin' thing. Cos that's what I've been thinkin'. That's my hypotenuse: that to sustain such a miraculous re-usin' of bits - you'd need some kinda central thing, some kinda source thing. I mean, some kinda power-source thing.'
'My God,' exclaimed Madeleine, 'I think you're right. I think you've got it!'
'Yes, I think you have, you bugger,' agreed Renton. 'And I've just got the telepathy bit. Cos with all these goonie chaps calling in from different places round the ship, all you ever get is a background noise, a sort of fuzz of telepathy…'
'…but if you have ten of them transmitting from one place,' continued Madeleine, 'you have a discernible signal. One you could pick up with some sort of tracking thing.'
'…and then you could do some simple triangulation stuff,' finished Renton, '…and hey presto, you've found yourself the power-source - the essence of life everlasting and the home of some magical thing. And shit, you're probably a very happy chappy - and well pleased you took up a career in kidnapping along the way. And if you're a Lagooner, you might be interested to know the identity of the kidnappers, so you'd know who to stop. You know - who to stop on their way to the "source".'
'I knews you'd get there with jus' a lill' bit of help,' chuckled Boz. 'An' I can see you're already forgettin' jus' how brilliant your senior partner has been in applyin' his detective like thinkin'. But that's what I've come to expect, jus' like ungrateful childun, not stoppin' a second to think about their poor…'
'Cobblers,' announced Madeleine. 'You don't need to lay it on. We both know how brilliant you are. And I hate to say it, but it isn't a surprise any more. You're just too bloody good, young Bostrom. And I mean too bloody good by a mile.'
'Yes,' agreed Renton. 'If you're right - and I'm bloody sure you are - you're hovering somewhere below genius level at the moment. And that's a bit worrying…'
Boz's grin seemed to widen by another metre.
'…mind, if you're wrong, you're gonna feel an absolute plonker.'
…But of course he wouldn't be. Renton knew it. It all fitted so well. As fanciful as it was, it all fitted perfectly with what they had learnt about these strange Lagooners, creatures who Renton now realised were far stranger than he had ever thought before.
…and now, if only they could find this central core, this source of their existence - and help protect it from that squad of blonde bombers, then maybe the Lagooners could retain their strangeness and sustain it for ever. As Orphenia could hers…
41.
Bessie was both excited and resentful. Excited at the prospect of finding the Master, but resentful that it was Cristalina who'd done the finding. But not that resentful.
After all, it wasn't exactly the first time she'd fed on the efforts of others. And she'd now learnt to control this resentment. She could now subdue it without even thinking.
Her excitement, therefore, was in the ascendancy. And as she closed on her goal - together with Cristalina and a trio of her exotic dancers - she began to shiver with excitement. With the thrill of anticipation. And this wasn't just a shake or a judder. This
was a real shiver. It had happened before. When, just like now, there'd been the prospect of intense pleasure. In fact, it was a bit like a premature climax really - albeit possibly more spasm than orgasm…
And she was still shivering when she saw them: a pair of Lagooners. They were male Lagooners and they were dead ahead.
They were also Lagooners with a purpose. They were blocking the corridor. And with stern looks and folded arms, they obviously intended to keep it blocked for as long as they could.
Bessie and her girls had been rumbled.
'Wait,' said Cristalina suddenly. 'I'll go and talk to them.'
'Talk to them?' screamed Bessie. 'Are you fuckin' mad? What's there to talk about?'
'We can't assume…' began Cristalina.
'What?' shrieked Bessie. 'What…?'
'We're in the Lagooner part of the ship now,' interrupted Cristalina. 'That's probably all it is. We can't just assume…'
'Bollocks!' retorted Bessie. 'Effin' bollocks! Since when have these things worn expressions like that? Look at them. They know all right. I'd stake my life on it. No, forget the friggin' talking. What we need now is a little improvised rôle-playing. You know, like with these two playing the targets and us lot the firing squad!
'Rhona,' she said, turning to the biker with the heaviest bust, 'let 'em have it. And don't you soddin' miss!'
Rhona didn't. Two maser pulses later, and the targets were on the floor. The blockage had been removed. And it was time to proceed. But not before Bessie imparted some words of wisdom to her staff.
'Right,' she said, 'it's gonna get shitty from now on in. They know what we're up to. And there'll be more of them. I'm soddin' sure of it. So shoot the buggers on sight. Understand? If I see a goonie, within the next second, I expect to see it dead.'
And then she turned to Cristalina.
'And you… I want you to do something else. I want you to think about how we find our number one goonie - now he knows as well. Because, if he's got any sense, he ain't gonna be hanging round any more. You know, just to make our friggin' acquaintance!
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