Authors: Mick Farren
‘Do they understand what we’re saying?’
A.A. Catto nodded.
‘They use the same language, but I think there’s quite a few words they don’t use or understand. They don’t talk much, though. They use a lot of signs and gestures.’
Billy moved round until he was standing behind A.A. Catto. He watched the faces of the two horsemen, and spoke slowly and carefully.
‘I still have my seventy calibre. They didn’t take it away from me.’
‘You mean you’ve got a …’
‘Don’t say it!’
‘Sorry.’
The horsemen gave no flicker of interest. Billy leaned forward.
‘Okay. I’m going to take a chance now. I’m going to take the thing out and put it on the table. I’m pretty sure they won’t know what it is.’
Billy moved slowly round to the table. He casually took the gun out from under his coat, and placed it on he table. Neither of the horsemen moved. A.A. Catto let out her breath with a sigh.
‘It worked. You were right.’
Billy nodded.
‘Right. You’re going to prepare for the fight. You’re going to go through with it. Just hang in there as long as you can. Immediately you get into trouble, I’ll shoot the queen. After that, we play it by ear. Okay?’
Before A.A. Catto could reply, the door opened and another two horsemen came into the hut. One carried a bundle wrapped in red cloth, and the other a small iron pot. They placed them on the table. Neither appeared to take any particular notice of the gun. One of them unwrapped the contents of the cloth. There was a wide leaf-bladed knife, a set of the strange armour to cover one arm, and a small round shield, slightly larger than a plate. The armour was silver rather than black. The horsemen pointed at A.A. Catto.
‘You prepare. Soon it is time.’
A.A. Catto looked round questioningly. The horseman gestured for her to stand. A.A. Catto stood. The horseman moved close to her and tugged at the top of her dress. Nothing happened. He tugged again. A.A. Catto realized I he wanted her to take off the dress. She released the fastening. It fell open, and dropped to the floor. A.A. Catto was naked except for her boots. The horseman pointed to them. A.A. Catto stooped down and took them off. None of the horsemen showed any reaction to her nudity.
The one who brought in the bundle stepped away from A.A. Catto, and the one who had carried in the iron pot moved forward. He placed the pot on the table and positioned A.A. Catto so she was standing with her feet apart and her arms raised. Then he turned and dipped both hands into the pot. It was filled with a warm, sweet-smelling, oily paste. He began slowly and carefully to rub the substance all over A.A. Catto’s body, not missing any part. At first, A.A. Catto’s face registered surprise, but the surprise quickly turned to pleasure. She gave a short, low moan. For a moment the horseman stopped massaging and looked at her blankly, then he went on with his work. Nancy caught A.A. Catto’s eye.
‘Does that stuff do anything?’
‘It deadens the nerves, I think. It’s kind of nice.’
When the horseman had finished he moved away and let the first one fit the piece of armour on to A.A. Catto’s left arm. Then he picked up the knife and shield, and with a ritualistic gesture presented them to her. A.A. Catto swung the knife a little to test its weight. The horsemen motioned that it was time for them to move. A curious procession formed up. In the front were the two horsemen who had prepared A.A. Catto for the fight, then A.A. Catto herself. Behind her were Billy, Reave and Nancy, and finally, bringing up the rear, were the two original horsemen who had guarded them all the time they had been in the village. As Billy left the hut, he casually picked up the gun and held it loosely by his side. None of the horsemen appeared to notice.
They left the hut, and came out into the open space in front of the big hut. The fire had been piled high with huge timbers, and blazed furiously. Flames leaped from the pit, and a lot of the fog had been burned away. A.A. Catto’s oiled body glistened in the light. The open space was surrounded on three sides by squares of horsemen. There must have been fifty in all. They stood in straight, unwavering lines. Unlike the men escorting A.A. Catto and her companions, these men wore conical helmets with batwings of flat black metal projecting from the top. The helmets gave them a sinister appearance, which was heightened by two curved side pieces that protected their cheeks, and a third piece that projected downwards to cover the nose. They all carried the long slender lances, which served to complete the whole effect of menace.
The open side of the square faced the big hut. As A.A. Catto approached the line of men, they stepped aside to let her through. Then the ranks closed. Billy, Reave, Nancy and the four horsemen attending them were left to stand behind the ranks, peering over their shoulders.
A.A. Catto stood in the middle of the open space. The fire crackled and roared beside her. It was a strange experience to stand naked apart from her protected arm in front of all these men who looked on so impassively. She stood in front of the big hut and waited. She didn’t feel anything like as frightened as she had expected to be. She wondered if the stuff they’d rubbed into her body had some kind of narcotic effect.
There was no sign of the woman she was expected to fight. Then the door of the hut swung open. Two helmeted horsemen came out and positioned themselves on either side of the door. Then a figure, who was unmistakably the Alamada, followed them out. It was A.A. Catto’s first glimpse of her opponent, and she didn’t like what she saw.
The ground car emerged from the nothings. Jeb Stuart Ho relaxed back in his seat. He was profoundly relieved. Travelling through the nothings still intensely disturbed him. When he returned to the temple, he would have to discuss the matter with his teacher and meditate on the answers. That was if he ever did return to the temple. Right at that time it seemed an impossible distance away. He turned and looked out of the side window. They were in one of the broken areas that formed the transition between the nothings and a stabilized area. Small sections of bare earth began to form around them, though there were still huge holes of shifting grey punched through it.
The holes grew progressively smaller, and finally vanished altogether. The solid stable land was complete. The car was bouncing through a lush green meadow. Beside them flowed a wide, clear river. In the distance was a tall, mist-covered mountain. Jeb Stuart Ho glanced back at the Wanderer who sat in the rear seat.
‘Is this place Quahal?’
The Wanderer nodded.
‘I figure so. Particularly from the state of him.’
The Wanderer nodded to the Minstrel Boy sitting in the driving seat. Jeb Stuart Ho looked round at him. The Minstrel Boy had changed. He was still staring straight ahead and tightly gripping the wheel, but his face had turned green and sweat was pouring off him. His lips were moving soundlessly, as though he was trying to say something. Jeb Stuart Ho looked at the Wanderer.
‘Should I give him another shot?’
‘Not unless you want to kill him.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘We’ve arrived, you fool. There’s nothing more he can do for you.’
As though in silent confirmation, the Minstrel Boy slowed the car to a stop. He cut the engine. It was suddenly very quiet. The only sound was a breeze that moved through the grass. The Minstrel Boy slowly toppled over. His head slammed forward on to the wheel. The Wanderer leaned forward and grasped his shoulder. He shook him gently. The Minstrel Boy didn’t move. The Wanderer looked quickly at Jeb Stuart Ho.
‘Feel for his pulse! He may be dead!’
‘Why should he be dead?’
‘Don’t ask questions. Just do it.’
Jeb Stuart Ho placed his fingertips on the Minstrel Boy’s neck.
‘There’s a pulse, but it’s very faint.’
‘Get him out of the car and lay him down on the grass.’
Jeb Stuart Ho did as he was told. The Wanderer stooped over the Minstrel Boy and loosened his shirt. He put his ear to his chest. He listened for a few moments, and then straightened up.
‘As far as I can tell, he’ll live.’
‘What’s happened to him?’
‘You’ve got a lot of gall.’
Jeb Stuart Ho shook his head.
‘I’m sorry. I don’t understand.’
‘With all your fucking training you don’t understand. You’ve just about killed the poor bastard.’
‘I have? How?’
The Wanderer clapped a hand to his bald head.
‘How? How? You fill him up with cyclatrol, you keep him driving through the nothings for fuck knows how long and then you wonder why he almost dies when he starts to come down. You’re impossible, Jeb Stuart Ho.’
Ho stood in silence for a long while. He was becoming acutely aware that despite all the years at the temple, there were many things that he still needed to learn, Suddenly a thought struck him. He looked hard at the Wanderer.
‘How did you know my name? I didn’t tell it to you.’
The Wanderer grinned and tapped the side of lis nose with his forefinger.
‘There’s a lot I know.’
Jeb Stuart Ho nodded solemnly.
‘I’m beginning to realize that.’
He walked slowly away from the car. The doubts were becoming serious. There was so much that he didn’t understand. He stood staring at the river. He took a grip on himself. He shouldn’t be thinking this way. He only had one purpose in this place. He had to complete his task. He had to kill A.A. Catto. He walked quickly back to the Wanderer and the still unconscious Minstrel Boy. The Wanderer looked up at him and grinned.
‘Itchy to get on with the killing, Jeb Stuart Ho?’
‘Sometimes I think you can read my thoughts.’
‘You don’t think a poor old man like me could do anything like that, do you?’
‘The fox does not lead the hunter straight to his lair, neither does the little rabbit …’
The Wanderer quickly interrupted him.
‘Don’t give me that fortune cookie stuff. It’s something I’ve always hated about your bunch.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I doubt that it’s your fault.’
‘I’m anxious to get on with my task.’
The Wanderer nodded.
‘So I see.’
He nodded towards the Minstrel Boy.
‘What about this poor boy?’
There was an awkward pause as the Wanderer got to his feet.
‘You weren’t thinking of leaving him here?’
‘You wouldn’t consider looking after him?’
‘Have you considered that he might not want to stay in this place?’
‘He has the ground car.’
‘Not for long, he hasn’t.’
‘What do you mean?’
The Wanderer grinned.
‘That’s something else you’ve forgotten.’
‘What?’
‘The globes.’
‘The cybernetic guards that destroy machines?’
‘Right.’
‘They’ll destroy the car?’
‘Of course they will.’
Jeb Stuart Ho looked round.
‘They haven’t come yet.’
‘They will, and when they do, don’t try and resist. They’re quite liable to fry all three of us.’
Jeb Stuart Ho stared out across the river. Sure enough, just as the Wanderer had predicted, five objects were floating towards them. They hung in the air a short distance above the surface of the water. As they came nearer, he could see that they were smooth grey steel with a black disc set in the side nearest to him.
The globes swept across the meadow towards them. They emitted a high-pitched hum. The Wanderer moved close to Jeb Stuart Ho.
‘Remember, don’t try anything. Just go along with what they want. If you don’t, they’ll wipe us all out.’
The globes moved round until they’d surrounded the car and the three men.
‘ You-will-stay-exactly-as-you-are!’
Neither Ho nor the Wanderer replied. Jeb Stuart Ho was aware the spheres were somehow draining off his willpower. He tried to analyse how they were doing this. It was something he had no experience of. The effort proved to much for him, and he found himself standing blankly.
‘It-is-necessary-that-we-search-you.’
The tentacles curled out from the base of the globes, and their tips ran over the Wanderer’s and Jeb Stuart Ho’s bodies. They took away Ho’s gun and his stasis generator. They left him with the rest of his weapons and equipment. They found nothing on the Wanderer, and turned their attention to the Minstrel Boy.
‘Has-this-one-ceased-to-live?’
The Wanderer shook his head dully.
‘He’s still alive, but he’s unconscious.’
The globes made no comment. They just ran their tentacles over the Minstrel Boy’s inert body. They took his stasis generator, and a couple of trinkets from his pocket. They placed them on top of the car, along with the things they’d taken from Jeb Stuart Ho.
‘These-objects-are-proscribed-in-this-area. The-vehicle-is-proscribed-in-this-area. It-is-necessary-that-we-destroy-them.’
The globes rose and floated above the car. Thin beams of bright blue light stabbed down from their bases, and played over the car. Jeb Stuart Ho retreated from the heat that was generated as the car smoked and melted. When it was reduced to a twisted, blackened hulk, the globes silently retreated back across the river and vanished. Jeb Stuart Ho slowly shook his head.
‘I have never seen machines like that before.’
The Wanderer nodded.
‘It’s amazing what you can get from Stuff Central.’
They both stood looking at the charred wreck. The Wanderer grinned.
‘Looks like we’re walking from here on in.’
Jeb Stuart Ho was about to answer when the Minstrel Boy made a noise. Both men turned and looked at him. He was weakly trying to sit up. His face was still very pale. Jeb Stuart Ho dropped on one knee beside him.
‘Are you all right?’
‘No. I feel half dead. My head hurts.’
Jeb Stuart Ho avoided the Minstrel Boy’s eyes.
‘I suppose you blame me for it.’
The Minstrel Boy struggled into a sitting position. Anger seemed to give him strength.
‘Who the hell do you expect me to blame? You’re the fucker that’s responsible.’
He caught sight of the Wanderer.
‘You! What the fuck are you doing here?’
The Wanderer grinned.
‘I just came along for the ride.’