Synaptic Manhunt (31 page)

‘Yeah? What?’

‘Air scooters.’

‘Air scooters?’

The Minstrel Boy grinned.

‘Yeah. Air scooters. Listen, you and Reave gather up three porta-pacs and come to the receiver room. I’ll go there now and make the order.’

Billy and Reave moved cautiously to the nearest unconscious Ho replicas, and unclipped three porta-pacs from their belts. They also took the guns from their holsters. Then they headed for the receiver room doing their best to look unconcerned.

When they got there, the room was empty apart from the Minstrel Boy sitting at the control board. Two of the air scooters had arrived, and as they watched a third one materialized in the cage. The air scooters were shaped like an egg that had been sliced in half lengthways. The flat side rested on the ground. When the engine was cut in, the machine floated on a cushion of air some fifteen centimetres thick. It moved by two propulsion vents at the back, and was braked by a similar vent on the front. A saddle and control bars were mounted on top. The Minstrel Boy had chosen models finished in red metal-flake. He had not had time to order any accessories, although the catalogue did contain a whole range. The Minstrel Boy threw his leg over the first one and turned the power unit to idle. The scooter rose on its air cushion. He gestured to the other two to get on their machines.

‘Here’s what we do. I’ll go through the door first. We take it nice and slow. Sashay around, and knock over a few freaks. We’ll clown it up. A.A. Catto will think it’s some kind of joke. Keep edging towards the door, then, at a signal from me, open the scooters right up, and go. We should take them by surprise. Okay?’

Billy and Reave nodded. The Minstrel Boy turned the twist grip on the control bars very gently and edged his way through the door. He waltzed out on to the dance floor. Billy and Reave did the same. A.A. Catto looked up from her conversation with Nancy. She laughed and clapped her hands as Billy spun his machine round and bowled over a whole group of freaks. They gradually made their way down the hall. When they were about halfway to the doors, the Minstrel Boy looked round and yelled.

‘Now!’

He twisted the powerfeed wide open, and sped towards the door. Billy and Reave followed him. As they raced away, A.A. Catto’s expression changed from delight to fury. She sprang to her feet, knocking over the child who’d been feeding her drugs.

‘Stop them.’

The Minstrel Boy slammed into the doors and they burst open. Billy and Reave sped through behind him. They hit the stairs and fought to control the scooters as they careened down the uneven surface. All three of them reached the bottom still upright and they hummed down the corridor. Some of the Ho replicas arrived at the head of the stairs and started shooting. Bullets screamed off the black stone walls of the corridor, then they made a right-angle turn and were temporarily out of danger.

They kept going at full speed, flashing along corridors and bucketing dangerously down flights of steps. The interior of the ziggurat appeared to be deserted, and they met no opposition. They eventually emerged on to one of the lower external levels. A grey dawn was creeping over the horizon. Further along the level, a long steep ramp led down all the way to the ground. They headed for it. There was still no sign of pursuit. Billy grinned back at Reave, who was slightly behind him.

‘Looks like we got away.’

Reave gave Billy the thumbs-up sign. The Minstrel Boy turned down the ramp. Billy and Reave followed him. They were almost at the bottom of the ramp when a squad of Ho replicas came storming out of one of the ground-level entrances. They raced towards the foot of the ramp. The Minstrel Boy got there before they did. He spun his scooter round and raced away in the opposite direction.

Billy and Reave hit the end of the ramp at the same time as the Ho replicas. They were going too fast to be stopped. The Ho replicas leaped out of the way as the two scooters ploughed through them. Billy and Reave gave their machines full power and attempted to catch up with the Minstrel Boy.

The Ho replicas were instantly back on their feet. They pulled out their guns and started firing after the three escapers. A heavy .90 calibre slug smashed into the back fairing of Billy’s scooter. He struggled to stop the machine turning over. As soon as he’d regained control, Billy glanced back to see if Reave was all right. He was just in time to see Reave’s scooter spinning riderless towards the fields. Reave was sprawled on the path. Billy braked hard. A bullet hummed over his head. The Minstrel Boy swung round and yelled.

‘Keep going!’

‘But Reave …’

‘He’s dead. Get the hell out before you are too.’

Billy took a last look at Reave. The Minstrel Boy was right, the body lay quite still. Another bullet slammed into the body of the scooter. Billy twisted the power control wide open and took off after the Minstrel Boy. The Ho replicas came after them at an incredible high-speed run. The Minstrel Boy waved frantically towards the river.

‘Hit the water, we’ll be able to move faster.’

They swerved across the fields and headed straight for the river. Bullets threw up chunks of earth beside them. They bumped down the bank, and hit the water in a shower of spray. The scooters quickly picked up speed on the smooth surface of the slow-moving river. The speedometer on Billy’s machine went clear off the end of the scale. Each time either of them hit a patch of ripples the two scooters bounced into the air.

At last they got out of range of the Ho replicas and their guns. Ahead of them, the river started to break up into patches of grey nothing. Billy put a hand to his belt and turned on the porta-pac. The Minstrel Boy did the same. He turned and grinned at Billy.

‘We did it! We got away!’

Billy nodded wearily.

‘Yeah … we got away.’

Jeb Stuart Ho moved from oblivion to a world of pain. He groaned. He had never imagined that dying would take so much effort. The whole of his side felt as if it was on fire. He seemed to be suffering from hallucinations. He had the sensation of someone mopping the sweat from his forehead. The illusion was strangely comforting. He prepared himself for the end, then a voice spoke beside him.

‘You’ve come round, then?’

Jeb Stuart Ho tried to raise his head but the pain proved too much for him. He tried to speak, but all that came was a groan. The voice spoke again.

‘You’re hurting. I’ll give you a shot. You’ll feel better in a while.’

The hallucination was very strange. Ho imagined something pressing against his arm. There was a soft hissing sound. The pain began to diminish. A feeling of euphoria spread through his body. He wondered if it was the approach of death. He tried to open his eyes for the last time. He found himself looking into the bearded face of the Wanderer.

‘Why are you part of this dream?’

The Wanderer smiled sadly.

‘This is no dream. You’re alive.’

‘I will die soon.’

‘You won’t. You’re in bad shape, but I’ve filled you up with all the drugs I could steal from the ziggurat. I’ve patched up the bullet wound as best I can. I figure you’ll pull through okay. There is one thing though, we’re going to have to get out of here. A.A. Catto thinks you’re dead right now, but we ought to move along before she finds out.’

Jeb Stuart Ho attempted to sit up. The pain had gone but he felt sick and dizzy.

‘I can’t leave while I still live.’

‘Your task?’

‘That’s correct.’

‘I’d forget it if I were you. The events you were sent out to prevent have happened. Whatever you were supposed to stop is rolling. It’s in motion. Taking out A.A. Catto won’t make much difference now. You’ve failed.’

‘You seem to know a great deal about my task.’

‘I’ve been in mind link with you.’

Is that how the replicas were produced?’

The Wanderer nodded.

‘That’s right.’

He avoided Jeb Stuart Ho’s eyes. There was a long pause. Finally the Wanderer coughed and began to talk very quickly.

‘Listen, I’ll give you another shot, and you’ll probably be able to move. We’ve got to get out of here before A.A. Catto thinks of having the bodies picked up. I’ll give you the shot, okay?’

Jeb Stuart Ho shook his head.

‘I cannot leave.’

‘Why the fuck not?’

‘I have failed in my task.’

‘So?’

‘I must now die. I cannot return to the temple with the burden of failure.’

‘You’re maybe going to have to.’

‘I don’t understand.’

The Wanderer took a deep breath.

‘You failed, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘So whatever A.A. Catto’s disastrous effect on the universe proves to be, it’s already underway.’

‘That seems logical.’

‘And the brotherhood will have revised all their schemes for dealing with her.’

Jeb Stuart Ho’s face became set.

‘The fact remains that I have failed in my task. I see no alternative but to commit myself to a ritual death.’

The Wanderer smiled.

‘You can’t do that. If you did it would actually compound your failure to the brotherhood.’

‘I do not follow the reasoning behind that.’

The Wanderer started to show signs of strain.

‘We both agree that since you didn’t take out A.A. Catto in time to stop the progression being set in motion that will end in disaster, the brotherhood will have to take even more positive measures to combat her.’

Jeb Stuart Ho nodded sadly.

‘I am responsible for that, and therefore my only course of action is to atone by committing myself to the death ritual. I don’t see how I can delay any longer.’

Jeb Stuart Ho struggled into a sitting position. He weakly tugged his sword from its sheath and laid it in front of him. He looked up at the Wanderer.

‘I would appreciate it if you would leave me. I must do this on my own.’

The Wanderer stood up and folded his arms.

‘But you can’t do it. Not even by your own ethic.’

Jeb Stuart Ho began to become impatient.

‘Why not?’

‘Because if the brotherhood are to fight A.A. Catto, they need you.’

‘I don’t see why.’

‘Because, of the whole order, you have more hard information about A.A. Catto than anyone else. It is your duty to return with that information.’

Jeb Stuart Ho thought it over.

‘I can find no flaws in the argument.’

‘There aren’t any.’

He looked down at his sword.

‘I am not free to put myself to death.’

He seemed almost disappointed. The Wanderer knelt down and gave him another shot.

‘Put your sword away and try to stand. We have to get away.’

Jeb Stuart Ho got painfully to his feet. He stood swaying. The Wanderer put his arm round him and supported his weight. Slowly they began to move, limping away into the too perfect, artificial dawn of Quahal.