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roof hatch.
Rex bundled into the air car, slammed shut the canopy, confirmed identity and put the thing
into gear. The engine coughed and died.
'No,' cried Rex, 'not now.' Two fearful figures climbed out through the roof hatch. A sheet of
flame billowed up behind them. 'Please,' begged Rex. 'Please start.' The spectres loped
across the roof towards him. Rex bashed at the dashboard with his fist. The engine
chug-ged, the air car stalled again. Rambo snatched up a length of metal piping and swung
it at the windscreen. The plexiglass shattered, Rex covered his eyes, Rambo and Eric
clawed at him. The motor engaged. The car lifted. The two Devianti fell away howling bitterly.
Rex took to the sky.
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Gloria Mundi never paced, she rode upon friction-free bearings housed within her hips. This
she did now in the Dalai's sanctum sanctorum. Dan watched her at it. He studied every fold
of yielding poli-synthicate as it creased about the exquisite contours of her body. What a
waste, thought Dalai Dan.
Gloria turned upon him. 'You should be so lucky.'
Dan cast her an upward gaze, levelling out at the piercing green eyes. 'Your brother intrigues
me,' he said.
'It might have been polite of you to mention that he was still in one piece as soon as you
knew.'
'So sorry,' Dan replied. 'An intriguing young man.'
'His idea of feeding the iris patterns of your Mr SUN into MOTHER to seek his location does
display a certain animal cunning, I suppose.'
'I consider it most enterprising. Sadly time ran out for him. The scan will of course be
maintained. We will track down SUN.'
Gloria threw up her hands. 'But to what end? You catch up with him. You kill him. Can one
man really be such a threat to you?'
'This is no ordinary man. Do you know what I represent, Gloria?'
I'm sure you can read my thoughts on this matter.'
'I represent stability. The status quo. I represent safety. To threaten me is to threaten the very
fabric of society.'
'Don't flatter yourself,
Dan sipped his cocktail. 'You have no idea of what I'm talking about. Your mind, although
open to me, is closed to reason.'
'And what plans do you now have for my brother?'
'I will keep him on the SUN case. I like the way he thinks.'
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'He's an uncouth lout.'
'Please Gloria. We each must play our part. You understand the economics of the thing and
also the mechanics. Society is no longer self-perpetuating. The unions run me ragged with
their outrageous demands, production is, as ever, down. Soon the synthafood plants will run
themselves dry. You know this. I know this. We have maintained the protective cloud cover
for a decade to allow the ozone layer to reform. This is science, Gloria. When mankind
re-establishes itself once more upon the face of the planet there must be no further
mistakes. Each must play his or her part, as now.'
'With you running the show, I suppose.'
'And who better?'
'Perhaps Hubbard or Pope Joan?'
'Only me, Gloria.'
'Ha, dreams of the hashish eater.'
'Not a bit of it.' Dan thumbed a remote control. A hologram of the planet formed before them.
He prodded into it. 'Cities all laid waste. But here, here, here, vast tracts of arable land. All
over, radiation-free, ripe for cultivation. Countless miles, more than in the middle ages. This
time we do it right.'
Gloria gazed at the image and then at the man. Could he actually be sincere?'
'Mr Mundi is here,' purred the intercom.
'Send him in,' said the Dalai Lama. The hologram faded and was gone.
The two Phnaargs returned to the medical centre. Mungo clutching his latest wound, Fergus
carrying the amputated ear before him at arm's length. As the medics sutured and stitched,
tinkered and bandaged, Jason spoke hurriedly into the unsullied ear of Fergus Shaman.
'We
171
have less than two minutes; he's preparing to go on the air.'
'Just do what he says then, Fergus replied. 'But get him out of that boardroom, as you value
your future.'
'Nuff said.' Jason spoke rapid words into a headset. Garstang's manic face appeared on a
nearby bio-screen. 'Will you do it, or should I?' Jason asked.
'Best you do,' Fergus backed away. 'He and I aren't really on the best of terms at present.'
'Well?' Garstang demanded.
'I'm afraid Mr Madoc is unable to speak to you at present. But I now have his full authority.
You shall have all that you require.'
Garstang drew the ashen face of Wisten within vision and pressed the hand weapon to his
temple.
'That's a special service hand-strobe,' Morgawr whis-pered to Fergus. 'I worked on those.
But he shouldn't have one, they haven't been fully tested yet.'
'Something up design-wise?' Fergus asked hopefully.
'Just a bit. They have an alarming habit of feeding back if you don't let them cool between
discharges. Very messy.'
'Oh good,' grinned Fergus. 'Now speak to him, he looks rather anxious.'
Jason did so. 'The captive is being brought up to you, Mr Garstang. Then the floors between
you and the research labs will be cleared.' The screen went blank.
'So they feed back, do they?' Fergus asked cheerfully. 'And would Mr Garstang be aware of
this, do you think?'
Jason Morgawr winked. 'I can't see how he would.'
Fergus Shaman did a big ear to ear job. 'There are going to be one or two vacancies on the
board. If this works out I might just put your name forward.'
'Should I clear the floors then?'
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'Why not, and get Mr Presley up to him. Place your men in concealment. Don't forget to
inform them about the little gremlin in Garstang's gun.' Jason hurried away, rubbing his
hands together in glee.
'What did he say?' asked the heavily swathed Mungo.
'Everything is being taken care of, sir.'
'Pardon? You'll have to speak up a bit.' [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]