Last Stand of the DNA Cowboys

CHAPTER SIX

The Minstrel Boy's wrists and ankles were tied with silk scarves, and his face was covered in makeup. First she had tied him, and then she had very carefully painted his eyes and lips. She had even outlined his nipples in red and purple. She had laughed when he had become a little impatient.

'I'm just making you beautiful for me.'

It was almost like being back in the Caverns. Renatta was straddling his stretched-out body. With total control, she rode him like a trained animal, flicking him with her long, gold false fingernails when he failed to please her. He let out a long, deep-throated gasp, part pain and part pleasure. The bodysuit and the cossack hat had gone, but she had retained the long red boots and the earrings, and the white fur was draped around her shoulders. Her mass of black curly hair hung down over her face, although it was still possible to see her eyes sparkle and her teeth gleam white in the diffused glow. When the Minstrel Boy opened his eyes, he could see multiple reflections of himself in the faceted dome overhead. He watched as Renatta languorously crawled down the length of his torso. He extended his tongue, running it over any part of her that presented itself.

Although Ramilles Diamenti had ordered them out of his realm, for the short time that they had left to them they had been given carte blanche to order the best of everything. Reave and Billy had been introduced to a partying group of very attractive women and had retired to their individual chambers. Renatta had insisted that the Minstrel Boy take the best, specialty equipped love suite that the Voice in the Wilderness had to offer It was in the Round Tower, a large circular chamber with a feeler bed and a bubbling steam pool under a dome of hexagonal mirrors. Something seemed to have really aroused Renatta. Thenwas a razor edge to her sexual hunger that night. The Minstrel Boy could not quite believe that it was just his animal magnetism, and he wondered what exactly it was that had so excited her. Could it be that the idea of making love to one of the famous — and now reunited — DNA Cowboys drove her crazy? A much more sinister idea was that the heat was being generated by the knowledge that he had just killed a man. He had been involved before with women who were turned on by killers. He was never able to quite relax around them. There was always the nagging fear of role reversal.

The Minstrel Boy had no difficulty relaxing on this particular night. The chamber was geared to total creature comfort. There was soft, silver mossfur beneath him, perfume wafted through the air, and the bubbling of the water in the pool blended with high harmonic chimes like the calling of electronic birds. Sleep, as opposed to relaxation, was a different matter. It was a number of hours before Renatta was finally sated and he was able to doze. It was in the middle of that dozing, while he was uneasily dreaming about being hunted across fields of stone by dark figures waving gold swords, that the entry buzzer started sounding impatiently.

Renatta sat bolt upright. 'What the hell is that?'

'Quickly, untie my hands.'

She fumbled with the silk scarves. When he was loose, he slid across the bed and scooped up his gun. He pointed it at the hexagonal door that he estimated would take only minimal effort to break down. 'Who's there?'

A familiar voice came from without. 'It's me, Reave. Billy's with me.'

The Minstrel Boy lowered the Colt. 'Come on in.'

He hit the door response, and it slid back. As the other two ducked through the low entrance, Renatta wrapped the fur around herself.

'This is a weird time to come calling.'

Billy looked at her and shrugged. 'I'm sorry, Renatta, but Reave and I got to talking, and we decided that it was a good idea to leave as soon as we could.'

Billy looked considerably better. He was freshly shaved, except for his darkening scalp. He had found himself a somewhat somber black travel suit with polymesh facing, which gave him a strangely ecclesiastical air that the Minstrel Boy decided must be some emotional hangover from the Sanctuary. It placed a new twist on his traditional role as the con man and manipulator of the trio. Was Billy going to be the mad vicar of the troupe?

The Minstrel Boy sat down on the bed. 'Leave? You mean leave here? I assume we're going together just like everyone wants us to?'

Reave and Billy were stiff and awkward, almost formal.

'That's right.'

The Minstrel Boy slowly nodded. It really was inevitable. 'But why leave now? Diamenti gave us forty-eight hours.'

'That's why we thought it might be a good idea to get going as soon as we can.'

The Minstrel Boy blinked. 'I'm not following this. I'm half-asleep. Has someone else been killed?'

'No, nothing like that. We just thought it might be wise to get a jump on anyone who was thinking about laying for us.'

Billy picked up the explanation. His voice sounded together and rational. 'It's like this. Everyone here knows that Diamenti has given us forty-eight hours to get out of town. They're going to expect us to wait around drinking it up until the deadline. That would be the time when anyone who wanted to take a crack at us would try it. This way we just drift off into the night, and if they come to look for us, we'll be gone.'

The Minstrel Boy stretched. He wondered if Billy's seeming recovery was permanent. 'It does make a certain kind of sense.'

'So?'

'Sure, let's get going. How are we going to travel, and where are we going to head for?'

'That's what we wanted to talk to you about.'

'We heard you had a submarine.'

The Minstrel Boy sat down again. 'I sold it.'

'Damn.'

'Maybe you could buy it back again.'

The Minstrel Boy scowled and shook his head. 'I doubt I've got enough money, and anyway, a submarine isn't exactly the most flexible means of transport.'

'So what do we do?'

Reave hitched up his pants. 'If you're talking flexible, there's nothing more flexible than a lizard.'

Billy grimaced. 'That's really doing it the hard way.'

For once the Minstrel Boy agreed with him. 'Yeah, Reave, you may be callused and saddle sore, but I came down here with an ass as soft as a baby's.'

Reave was not convinced. 'I've already got a lizard in the stables, and I'm sure we could get two more out of Diamenti.'

There was a sudden awkward silence. Everyone looked at Renatta sitting cross-legged on the circular bed.

'So you finally remembered about me?'

The Minstrel Boy was embarrassed. 'You want to come with us?'

'I don't want to stay here.'

'It could get rough.'

'It's been real easy up to now, hasn't it?'

'Okay, so we ask Diamenti for three lizards.'

The Minstrel Boy was not sold on the idea of trekking on lizardback. 'Maybe we could do better than lizards. Wasn't Heet supposed to be keeping an eye on us?'

'He's outside waiting.'

The Minstrel Boy started pulling on his pants. 'So let's bring him in. I assume that he knows about this plan to split right now.'

'Oh, sure. I think he and his boss can't wait to see the back of us.'

'Maybe we can get a deal on something.'

Heet ducked through the entrance. He looked at the Minstrel Boy and Renatta and the messed-up bed. His expression was disapproving. The Minstrel Boy grinned, wondering how a Puritan managed to survive in a place like the Voice in the Wilderness.

'Greetings, Heet, I hope the old lycanthropy isn't acting up.'

Heet bared his steel fangs. 'You're a funny guy, Minstrel Boy. You wanna watch someone don't rip your sense of humor out.'

'Listen, Heet, you can speak for your boss, right?'

Heet nodded suspiciously. 'In most things.'

'So we need transportation out of here, and we were wondering if we could get a deal on some sort of rough-country ground vehicle.'

The yellow man tugged at a pointed ear. 'What you got to pay for it with?'

'I've got the balance on my submarine, and Reave could throw in his lizard.'

Heet gave him a baleful look. 'The sub was stolen from the Caverns.'

'That never bothered Diamenti in the past.'

'The lizard's probably stolen, too.'

'Can you make us a deal or not?'

Heet was thoughtful. 'There might be something I can do for you.'

'Yeah?'

'There's an old Saab battlewagon parked out on the terrace that might be in your price range. The previous owners died in a card game.'

Reave was suddenly interested. 'A Saab?'

'I'll even throw in the heat ray.'

Heet was turning into a bizarre salesman. The DNA Cowboys took the bait. Billy grinned.

'It sounds like us.'

Reave nodded. 'It does rather.'

The Minstrel Boy cinched the deal. 'I've seen it, and it looks okay.'

Reave faced Heet. 'You'll give it to us for the balance on the submarine and the lizard?'

Heet flashed the steel. 'Boss'll go along with that.'

He stuck out a hand. They shook in turn.

Renatta was dressing, pulling up her long red boots and smoothing them to the contours of her legs. 'So we're riding in a tank?'

'You have a problem with that?'

She ran a finger down her thigh. 'Hell, no. It seems sort of apt, and it's certainly better than riding a lizard.'

The deal done, they moved quickly. First there was the inspection of the battlewagon. While Heet was around, they complained bitterly about flaws, defects, and worn parts. And indeed they had some reason. When they started the drive, it crackled with plasma and leaked fluids. The biode was taciturn and easily irritated, and the previous owners had been far from fastidious. The interior of the vehicle was filthy, surfaces were thick with grime, and corners were solid with compacted garbage. The cabin stank of urine and decay. It was sufficiently bad that when Renatta insisted that the inside be cleaned out before they acceptthe craft, Heet did not complain and went off to find a couple of house epsilons to do the job. Once he was out of earshot there was a great deal of jubilation.

Reave was grinning. 'The DNA Cowboys have their own goddamn tank!'

Renatta was not altogether sold on the tank 'I thought you didn't call yourselves that.'

Reave was too pleased with their acquisition to pay her any mind. 'Whatever. We still got our own tank.' He climbed inside. 'The rest of it may look like shit, but the weapons systems have been perfectly maintained. The dead guys may have been pigs, but they were also heavy pros.'

The Minstrel Boy was drawing patterns in the dirt on the Saab's bodywork. 'If they were such heavyweights, how come they got killed over a card game?'

'Maybe they were playing with each other.'

Reave was going over the weapons, checking each gun port in turn, swiveling on the jockey stool, getting the feel of the twin particle throwers.

'Whoever looked after these babies really loved their work. We're talking firepower here. With something like this at the point, you could easily put a sizable raiding force behind you.'

The Minstrel Boy, who was getting his own feel of the biode, raised an eyebrow. 'I thought you'd had enough of that sort of thing.'

Reave looked torn. 'Yeah, I don't want to go off burning no towns. It just seems that everything's got so antsy out there that aggression's sometimes the only answer. There's always some bastard who wants to pick on you, so why not pick first? Besides, with all this firepower, it'd be good to have something to shoot at.'

Billy sighed. 'That's one way of looking at it.'

The Minstrel Boy turned in his seat. 'There's a difference between copping an attitude and sinking into barbarian twilight.'

Reave grunted. 'I'm not so sure that barbarian twilight ain't the next thing on the menu.'

Billy was already strapping himself into a passenger berth. 'Are we going to spend the next few hours talking philosophy, or are we going to get going?'

The Minstrel Boy engaged the drive. Blue smoke drifted through the cabin. Its hum had a harsh arrhythmic quality.

Renatta looked concerned. 'Is that drive going to last?'

The Minstrel Boy nodded. 'It'll go; it's just cranky.'

He grasped the control levers but did not merge with the biode. He wanted the old-fashioned pleasure of actually driving the tank. He made a neat three-point turn and started down the terrace, away from the main building. For something so bulky, the Saab was easily maneuverable.

'Unless anyone has a better idea, I was going to go into the nothings, get beyond the backwash, and let the lizardbrain see what it can come up with.'

'Do we have any idea where we want to go?' Renatta asked.

The Minstrel Boy observed that she still was not grasping the basics of travel in the nothings. 'It's not where we want to go, it's where we can go. We see what stasis we can lock to and then assess the situation.'

'So we play it by ear?'

'There never was any other option.'

They slid into the nothings. The Saab began bucking and rolling as if it were going through a simulation of rough terrain. The Minstrel Boy went into the biode and discovered that the previous owners had deliberately programmed it that way.

'What the hell were they? Gluttons for punishment?'

The biode did not condescend to provide him with an answer. The Minstrel Boy wrote in an adjustment on the ride illusion. In a matter of moments they were running as smoothly as a luxury limo.

As soon as they entered the nothings, a tension started growing inside the tank's cramped cabin that was more than just the normal unease at being so close to the completely alien environment. It was the realization that they had embarked on something new, with no idea what direction it might take or how it would come out in the end. There was no turning back. Billy's mind kept morbidly returning to the earlier talk of going out in a blaze of glory: Eventually the time came when there was nothing else to do but die.

They did not even have an answer to the most immediate question. How were they going to relate to each other through long hours cooped up in the Saab? The Minstrel Boy wondered what was going to become of his sexual liaison with Renatta.

Were they going to travel celibate, or did she intend to spread her favors to all three of them? With Renatta, the Minstrel Boy couldn't hazard a guess, and he did not particularly want to discuss it with her in front of the other two. He glanced at where she was curled up in the forward gun position. She didn't seem about to volunteer anything. He decided that he would drive the tank and let nature take its course.

'I'm scoping on the lizardbrain. You want to see what I got?'

Everyone nodded. The Minstrel Boy stroked a control glove, and a display pseudosurface curved around the driver's berth. Three points of light hung in the air. One was much brighter than the other two.

Reave swung down from the rear gunner's chair and ducked behind the Minstrel Boy. 'What's the bright one?'

'That's a place called Santa Freska — it ain't very big, but it's extremely relative to us. I don't have a make yet on the other two. I just know that they're there.'

'What's this Santa Freska? I've never been there.'

'Sun bunnies, Cobalt 90s, a few local bandidos, and a lot of rock bathers. It's hot enough to bake your brain. Big pseudosun and desert terrain. Focal point is an oasis settlement, Santa Freska Town.'

'You want to go for it?'

'I don't see why not. We may be able to strike out for somewhere larger. I'd be a lot happier if we were in a largish city with plenty of action and natural color. These isolated realities are getting too damn weird.'

Reave nodded. 'I think you're probably right.'

'I am right.' The Minstrel Boy turned in his seat. 'You two want to go into Santa Freska?'

Neither Billy nor Renatta seemed particularly concerned.

'Sure, whatever.'

'I never heard of it.'

Billy's mind had seemed to come and go since they had left the Voice in the Wilderness. Right at that moment he seemed to be completely normal, but there was no telling when he would suddenly distance out into a self-created trance.

The Minstrel Boy concentrated. 'I'm locking on to it.'

They came out of the nothings onto flat scrub desert. They were following a poorly maintained dirt road that had been plowed and furrowed by dozens of wheeled vehicles. The Minstrel Boy spread the treads to make it a less rocky ride. He opened the armored covers on the windshield and dogged back the side ports. Hot, dry air poured into the Saab. It was something of a shock, but it did help blow away the smell of confinement. At first there was nothing except flat, featureless desert with dry brush, stunted yucca trees, and outcrops of red ocher rock that glittered with deposits of crystal.

'So where's this oasis?'

The Minstrel Boy shrugged. 'I guess we'll get to it eventually. They seem to have a lot of area stabilized here.'

Billy looked at the scenery with distrust. 'Who in their right mind would go to all the trouble of stabilizing a stinking desert?'

'Some people like this shit.'

Billy shook his head as though still amazed at the things people could like. 'I'm with you, Minstrel Boy. The sooner we get to a nice big city, the better I'll like it.'

'You were run out of Litz, weren't you?'

'If you remember, we were all run out of Litz.'

'There are plenty of other cities.'

Renatta was hanging out of the side port, squinting ahead into the slipstream. 'There's something up there.'

'What is it?'

'I can't quite see. It looks like a mast or some kind of antenna. . oh, God! I don't believe this.'

Now everyone could see it. The Minstrel Boy slowed the Saab to a stop. It was a body hanging from a tall pole, a man who had been creatively mutilated.

'This is not a good start.'

'He doesn't look like a native.'

What garments remained on the hanged man were more appropriate to a neoprimitive warrior than to the kind of mind-roasted sun worshiper the Minstrel Boy had expected to find in Santa Freska. His hair was plastered up into a coxcomb of high spikes, and he wore ceramic chest and shoulder guards; the tattered black loincloth was stiff with dried blood, as was the streaming horsehair sporran that hung between his legs.

'You telling me that this is what they do to strangers?'

The Minstrel Boy engaged the drive again and started forward down the road. Billy immediately protested.

'What the hell do you think you're doing?'

'Heading in to see what's going on here.'

'Do we want to know what's going on here? The stiff on the gibbet clearly wasn't intended to encourage tourists, so why don't we take them at their word? Why don't we just turn around and go back the way we came?'

'Because I think this is Santa Freska Town coming up now.'

The Saab was cresting a low hill. In front of them, a circle of palms and a tangle of smaller vegetation was a flourish of cool green against the drab desert.

'It looks like someone trashed the place.'

Black smoke poured from a blue dome in among the trees. Flames flickered from a gaping hole in the side. One end of a low flat-roofed structure had fallen into rubble. A burning ground car lay on its roof beside the road. As they got closer, it was possible to see the bodies on the ground in the shade of the palms and the black, flapping shapes that moved in among them. The Minstrel Boy once again halted the Saab before actually entering the town. Reave effortlessly assumed command.

'Okay, let's have the covers down and the gun ports manned. We're going to go in, but we're going to do it slow and careful.'

Billy did not look too happy about the idea, but he kept quiet. Reave turned his attention to Renatta, who was tentatively grasping the handgrips of the particle thrower.

'Do you know how to fire that thing?'

She nodded. 'It looks pretty straightforward.'

He leaned in and fine-tuned the sight fix. 'That'll be better.' He glanced up at the Minstrel Boy. 'Okay, let's move but take it real easy.'

Before whatever violence had taken place, the oasis must have been an idyllic spot. It was only when the Saab was in among the trees that its occupants realized just how big they were and how, in fact, there was a whole small town down in the cool shade. The tank came around the burning dome and turned into what was the equivalent of a main street. On one side there was the water of the oasis itself. Flamingos and other wading birds stood unconcernedly in the shallows while human bodies still floated in the water. All around there were the scars of gunfire and explosions. Two buildings were demolished completely, and an imposing wooden building with a sign proclaiming itself "El Cantina" had taken a bad beating. There were more wrecked vehicles and yet more bodies.

If anything, the flapping black things were more of a shock than the bodies. The Minstrel Boy had assumed that they were regular buzzards. They were not. Much larger than buzzards, they were some unholy, and probably wholly fabricated, hybrid of the vulture and the leather-winged pterodactyl. They tore, ripped, and haggled over the flesh of the dead. On the ground they moved like vultures; they had the same hooked beak but were completely without feathers, and their wings were thick membranes like the creaking shrouds of huge carrion bats. The Minstrel Boy could not believe that anyone could deliberately create anything so disgusting.

There were also humans, stooped figures in dark dirty rags, moving among the carnage stripping the corpses. The raiding party that must have swept through had its own hyena camp followers. When they saw the tank, they cut and ran, scrambling aboard the most verminous tent rail the Minstrel Boy had ever seen, a smoke-belching flatbed with a crude frame superstructure covered in rotting canvas and tattered hides. It took off, hightailing it down the road away from the oasis even while the last of the scavengers were still struggling to swing themselves aboard. Renatta fired a shot after them but misjudged the range.

'Always compensate for a target that's moving away from you,' Reave told her.

'I'll learn.'

He beamed encouragingly. 'Sure you will.'

Billy was thoughtful. His normality seemed to be holding. 'If things like that have started following these raiders, the situation must have deteriorated since Reave was running with Baptiste.'

'Sure as hell weren't creeps like that following our trail. Baptiste would have wasted them.'

The Minstrel Boy halted the Saab in front of El Cantina. 'Do you ever get the feeling that we're traveling through the end of civilization?'

Reave and the Minstrel Boy looked around as Billy let out an unexpected laugh.

'If anyone deserved a role in that, it's got to be us.' Billy even seemed to be recovering his personality.

They waited a full five minutes without seeing any sign of life except what they had started to call the vulture bats.

'Looks as though the town's dead. Maybe we should get outand have a walk around, see what we can see,' Reave suggested.

Nobody seemed to want to be the first to move. Finally Reave took a pistol from the rack beside his gun position. 'I suppose you all want me to take the point?'

'We thought you'd never ask.'

He checked the charge on his first pistol and slid it into his belt, then picked up the second one. 'Okay, so pop the side hatch.'

The Minstrel Boy raised the gull-wing door on the left side of the tank, the side that was facing the oasis. It was unlikely that an attack would come from the water, and there was always the chance that a straggler or a survivor, still with a weapon, might be lurking inside one of the buildings. Reave would have the battlewagon between him and that possibility.

The Minstrel Boy glanced at Billy. 'You have a weapon?'

'Only a sleeve needler.'

Billy had always had a taste for small, easily concealed weapons. They might be handy in a bar or boudoir, but as street sweepers they were pretty well useless. The Minstrel Boy looked to Renatta. 'How about you?'

She shook her head. 'I don't have a weapon at all.'

The Saab's previous owner had left a rack of small arms: a selection of handguns and three heavyweight von Essen shattertubes, the kind that fired blasts of hardened ice. The Minstrel Boy passed one over to Billy and took one himself. He grinned at Renatta.

'Why don't you move up into the top turret and cover us until we know that everything's okay.'

She nodded. She did not seem to have any desire to venture outside. 'Okay.'

Billy and the Minstrel Boy dropped through the hatch. As they stood beside Reave, Billy jerked a thumb back at the tank, indicating Renatta. 'If anything goes down, she's just as likely to blow us away by mistake.'

Reave glanced back through the hatch. 'Lighten up. She's okay.'

The Minstrel Boy eyed Reave silently. He was being uncharacteristically pleasant to Renatta. Reave did not notice the look and gestured with one of his pistols.

'Shall we get on with this?'

They cautiously emerged from the cover of the Saab. They spread out and started slowly to cross the street toward El Cantina. The vulture bats hissed and barked at them and rattled their wings, but nothing else stirred.

'We ought to wipe out those things before we leave here,' Reave said.

They took a couple more paces, and then Billy froze. 'Something moving inside the cantina!'

They stood their ground, weapons at the ready. The door of the cantina creaked. A figure tottered out onto the covered walk.

It was a man, covered in blood and with an ugly blast wound in his chest. It was amazing that he was able to stand at all. He clutched a long-barreled pistol in his right hand and was desperately trying to raise it with the last of his strength.

'You. . scum. . bastards.'

Billy looked urgently at Reave. 'Shall I finish him?'

'Hold your fire.'

As Reave spoke, the man's legs gave way and he collapsed to the boards of the walk. The three of them ran to where he was lying. As they gathered around him, his lips began to move. It was clearly agony for him to talk.

'What. . did we. . ever do. . to you?'

Reave knelt beside him. 'We're not with them. We're just travelers. What happened here?'

The nerves on the left-hand side of the man's face spasmed uncontrollably.

'I. . my partner. . inside. .'

Billy stiffened and raised his gun. He peered into the dark interior of the cantina. 'You think it's a trap?'

'I doubt it.'

'This one's dead.'

Billy edged up to the doorway. The Minstrel Boy automatically backed him up. The old habits were coming back.

Billy whispered instructions. 'You go left.'

'Whatever you say.'

'So let's get to it.'

Billy hit the door. The Minstrel Boy was right behind him. They peeled off in opposite directions, flattening themselves against the wall.

'God, it stinks in here.'

The cantina was filled with the stench of violent death. There were bodies everywhere. From what was left of them, it looked as though the local bandidos had made their stand there. Many were not just the victims of a firefight — they had been tortured and mutilated. The raiders seemed to have staged a vicious grand finale. Billy and the Minstrel Boy stiffened as someone groaned. It was hard to see after the brightness outside.

'Over there, by the bar.'

The man seemed to be actually hanging on the bar, head sagging, knees bent, and arms outstretched. 'Help. . me.'

They moved toward him. Broken glass crunched under their boots. It was only when they came close that they saw the black iron spikes driven through his forearms and into the dark polished wood of the bar top. He had literally been nailed to the bar.

'Water. .'

Billy ducked behind the bar and found an unbroken bottle of mineral water. He handed it to the Minstrel Boy, who was kneeling beside the crucified bandido. The Minstrel Boy held the bottle to the bandido's lips. 'Here, drink this.'

The bandido swallowed with difficulty. He had trouble keeping his head up. 'Thanks.'

Sunlight shafted into the cantina as Reave came through the door. 'All secure in here?'

'There's this one guy left alive.'

'God, this is a mess.'

The Minstrel Boy gave the bandido a second drink. 'Who did this?' he asked.

The bandido eased the weight oo his arms. 'You. . kill me, huh? I. . can't stand any more of this.'

'Just tell us who did this.'

'He. . called himself Ravaj Taraquin. . Taraquin's Irregulars. There were some. . thirty guns. . plus a. . tribe of neoprimitives. . maybe fifty or sixty more. . We didn't have a chance.'

'That's more men than Baptiste had,' Reave commented.

The bandido jerked his head. 'Baptiste. .'

'What about him?'

'They. . were meeting him. Taraquin's Irregulars were. . going to link up with Baptiste's army and storm Idleberg.'

Idleberg was a town of modest size.

'This is getting serious,' the Minstrel Boy said.

There was a rustling behind them — a vulture bat had waddled through the door Reave had left open. In pure reaction, Reave shot it dead. Within seconds more of the creatures were jostling through the door, drawn by the fresh kill. Reave cursed and rushed at them, lashing out with his boots. When he had finally driven them all out, he tossed the one he had shot after them. 'I'm going to kill every one of those goddamn things. I swear.'

The bandido let out a groan. 'He had them made.'

'Who did?'

'Taraquin. . He created those vulture things. . he had a template. He made them. . to leave behind. . like a calling card.'

'This Taraquin's a psychotic.'

'Kill. . me. The pain. .'

The Minstrel Boy stood up. 'Can't something be done for him?'

The bandido's voice was a sob. 'I've had it. . just stop the pain.'

Reave looked at the Minstrel Boy. 'You can only do him like he's asking.'

The Minstrel Boy drew his Colt and pointed it at the bandido's head but hesitated before he fired. 'I don't know about this.'

Reave didn't wait any longer. In one smooth, almost casual motion, he raised a pistol and shot the man squarely between the eyes. 'Now let's get the hell out of here.'

Back out in the sun, the Minstrel Boy shuddered. 'This shit is getting out of hand.'

Reave looked back once at the cantina and then walked purposefully toward the Saab. 'I'm going to turn the heat ray on that place.'

Billy, Renatta, and the Minstrel Boy watched the cantina burn as Reave proved as good as his word. Using both pistols, he systematically slaughtered the vulture bats. The four of them were taking a last depressed look around before leaving the ruins of Santa Freska when they heard the whine of the rocket motor. Reave immediately went into action.

'Incoming aircraft! Spread out, under cover! Billy, get back in the tank, on-line the ground-to-air.'

'You got it.'

At first it was just a dot on the horizon, flying low and following the path of the road. Even when it came closer, it was still hard to make out any details. Only when it made a slow circle of the oasis was the reason for their confusion clear. It was a flying man, or at least a humanoid shape, riding the air with a dorsal jetpack strapped across his shoulders. After a second circuit the flier altered the attitude of his body, hovered, and slowly dropped, boots first, for a soft landing beside the tank.

'I'm looking for Rajav Taraquin.'

The Minstrel Boy muttered under his breath. 'Doctor Livingstone, I presume.'

Renatta looked at him as though he had gone mad. 'What?'

'Arcane cultural reference.'

'You're nuts.'

If the newcomer had had any more steel or ceramic grafted to his body, he would have ceased to qualify as human. Even as he was, he was still very close to the verge of robothood. His head was totally enclosed in a massive, featureless bullet helmet. A huge yoke collar and chest plate, which must have housed his control systems and biode, extended over his back to where the weightless dorsal mounting held the rocket motor in position. Motion servos had been built into his biceps, and his hands ended in the blunt steel fists of his multiple-function assault gloves. More ropes of servos ran down his thighs to a pair of boots that could have held up a mobile crane. Power calipers helped support his overall weight. Even his voice was amplified and electronically enhanced.

Reave stepped out of cover and faced the flying man. 'Taraquin's been through here, but he's gone already.'

'That's too bad. Are you some of his men?'

'Just a party of honest travelers.'

Renatta and the Minstrel Boy stepped out into the open. They held their weapons down at their sides but were braced for action.

The flying man spread his huge metal hands. 'I really mean you no harm.'

As if to prove his point, he began to unscrew the bullet helmet, then lifted it over his head. The uncovered face was a complete contrast to the rest of him. It was soft and feminine. Large brown eyes were framed by long lashes, and soft, damp curls fell over his forehead. Stripped of the electronics, his voice was high and girlish. 'That's better; it gets hot in there.'

Reave nodded. 'I'm sure it does.'

'The name is Jet Ace.'

Reave nodded again. 'Reave Mekonta.'

Jet Ace held out one of his gloves in greeting. Reave touched it briefly.

'I'm pleased to meet you, Jet Ace. This here's the Minstrel Boy, and the lady's Renatta de Luxe.'

He omitted to mention Billy, who was still sitting in the tank. Jet Ace smiled. His soft, almost shy smile was wholly at odds with the ponderous metalbound way in which the rest of him moved.

'Haven't I maybe heard of you guys?' he asked.

'It's possible.'

'You're heroes, right?'

Reave firmly shook his head. 'No, not us. We're just travelers.'

'I'm a hero.'

'No kidding?'

'At least I will be, when I've made a name for myself.'

'Jet Ace is a good name for a hero.'

The Minstrel Boy asked the obvious question. 'Why were you looking for Taraquin?'

'I thought that I might hook up with his army. I'm something of a one-man air force.'

The Minstrel Boy nodded thoughtfully. 'I can imagine that.' He looked pointedly around at the carnage that had once been Santa Freska. 'From the way he left this place, it doesn't seem that this Taraquin is very pleasant person. Probably a psychopath. Hardly a suitable companion for a hero.'

Jet Ace slowly turned, shuffling his enormous boots. He took in the ravaged town. 'I see what you mean. Perhaps it would be a better idea if I was to kill him.'

'That would be one way of making a name for yourself.'

'I have this lizardbrain implant, and I sometimes become a little confused regarding my ultimate goals.'

'That's understandable.'

The Minstrel Boy leaned close to Reave and whispered in his ear. 'This guy's loaded out of his mind on cyclatrol.'

'You think so?'

'Sure, look at the way he's sweating. He's been finding hisown way through the nothings for too long. He's crazy. He's in worse shape than Billy.'

'He's also built like a human fighter plane.'

'That should make life interesting for someone. Let's hope it's not us.'

Jet Ace had moved off and was looking at the bodies under the palms. 'The more I think about this, the more I believe that it would be a very good idea to kill Ravaj Taraquin.'

'A lot of people might be real grateful.'

'You think so?'

'I tell you what. If it's any help to you, we heard where Taraquin was heading.'

Jet Ace clumped toward them. 'You did?'

'He's supposed to be linking up with another warlord called Vlad Baptiste. They intend to storm the town of Idleberg.'

Jet Ace was already replacing his helmet. The electronics came back on, and his voice regained its previous heroic quality. 'I must make all speed to Idleberg.' He paused. 'You think I should kill this Vlad Baptiste as well?'

The Minstrel Boy nodded solemnly.

'Definitely.'

'Then I shall slay the pair of them.'

He bent his knees. The rocket cut in, and he rose swiftly into the air. When he was at treetop level, he turned his body to a horizontal position, stretched his arms in front of him, and sped away to the east. The Minstrel Boy, Reave, and Renatta watched him go.

Renatta shaded her eyes against the sun. 'You think he has a sex life?'

Reave laughed. 'I'd sure like to see that.'

The Minstrel Boy was peering into the distance. 'Is it a bird? Is it a plane?'

Reave looked at him blankly. 'Huh?'

Renatta smiled. 'Another arcane cultural reference.'