Last Stand of the DNA Cowboys

CHAPTER NINE

Billy Oblivion waited in the lobby of the Leader Hotel. Billy hated to wait for anything. Patience was not among his virtues. The other two were well overdue, and for what had to be the seventy-third time, he was asking himself where the hell they were. A waitress approached. Billy eyed her balefully. The waitresses at the Leader Hotel were too goddamn clone-perfect. They had no blemishes. In fact, they looked practically sterile. A fantasy of her torrid degradation flashed in front of his inner eye, but he was too tense and anxious to pursue it. When he had first arrived in Krystaleit, he had felt considerably better than he had in a very long time. The waiting, however, was getting to him. Something was slipping back. There were scrabblings in his mind.

The waitress was standing over him. 'Can I get you something, sir?'

Billy stared up at the woman's outstanding breasts. There was something gravity-defying about the way they swelled against the stretch silk of her formal cheongsam. He imagined ripping away the material, but then he sighed and nodded. 'You can get me the same again.'

Reave and the Minstrel Boy had been gone for more than twelve hours and were probably lying drunk in some whorehouse down in the Bluecat. Their absence was creating a problem. Renatta had vanished, and if they did not put in an appearance soon, he would have to deal with her disappearance on his own. He was not sure that he was in any shape to be going out solo to look for the woman. Waiting in the lobby was enough of a strain. He was starting to twitch at shadows. On the other side of the lobby, right by the gilt check-in desk, a gray middle-aged man and an attractive young woman seemed to be staring in his direction. He startedto curl down into his chair. His memory had deteriorated so badly over the last couple of years that he could no longer trust himself to recognize faces before they recognized him.

The serious damage to Billy's nervous system, as opposed to the routine recreational damage, had started back in that room in the Pale Rooster, back there in Stowellberg when Haun Geep and the Griddling brothers had caught up with him. They had tied him down on the bed and shot lyrnphane straight in through his eye sockets. The convulsions had lasted for fifty-four hours, and after that he had never again been able to perceive the color green. Grass was now a wholly new color that did not have a name and, as far as he could tell, was known only to him. The times he had wandered in the nothings with no guidance, no sense of time, and loaded to the gills on cyclatrol had compounded the mess inside his head, and the varying levels of spiritual stress that had been inflicted on him during his sojourn at the Sanctuary had set the ruins of his mind into bizarre and disturbing patterns. It could only be a matter of time before the other two realized just how bad his condition really was. And where the hell were they, anyway?

To his relief, he spotted two figures stumbling through the main revolving doors. He quickly stood up and went to meet them.

'We have a problem,' he announced,

Reave and the Minstrel Boy were leaning on each other for support. They stared at him, blank and drunk.

'We do? Tha's terrible.'

Reave began vehemently shaking his head. 'We don't have no problems. We drunk, which is exactly how we wants to be.'

Billy noticed that the Minstrel Boy had a brand-new knife belt strapped across his hips. One of the knives was already missing. A hotel houseman in gold and white livery was drifting in their direction, and some of the other guests were giving the three of them nervous looks. With Reave as drunk as he was, with pistols jutting aggressively from his belt, the situation had the potential for an explosion. Billy decided to give it to them straight.

'Renatta's gone.'

Reave and the Minstrel Boy looked at him with blank alcoholic eyes. They did not seem in the least concerned.

'So?'

'So she went out three hours ago and hasn't come back.'

'So she's gone. So what?'

The Minstrel Boy nodded solemnly. 'She's had all three of us, and now she's moved on. Shit happens. She's probably fulfilled a childhood ambition. She's laid the DMA Cowboys. I hope it sits well with her.'

Reave put a fatherly arm around Billy's shoulder. 'Listen to me, Billy boy. Listen to your old buddy Reave. You don't want to worry about it. There'll be another one along in a minute, and in the meantime, there's always the whores.'

Billy impatiently shook himself free. 'You don't understand. She went out to look around, but I don't think she knew that she was all but out of credit after last night. If she tried to buy anything more than a couple of drinks, she'd hit the zero and make the indigent roster. Shit, any slaver could have picked her up by now.'

Reave pushed back his hat and scratched his head. 'That's like a really fucking stupid thing to do. Why didn't you warn her?'

'I was too hung over.'

The Minstrel Boy abruptly sat down. 'I feel awful.'

The hotel houseman was hovering closer. Billy tried to ease the others toward the elevators.

'I really think that we should do something about finding her. Why don't we go upstairs and see if she's shown up on any of the lists?'

It was the Minstrel Boy's turn to shake his head. 'Not me, Billy. I'm too sick to go rescuing damsels in distress, and besides, I've got half the world's death cults looking to kill me. Renatta's going to have to take care of herself.'

Billy turned on him angrily. 'You can't be that cold.'

The Minstrel Boy knew that he was being childish, but he didn't care. His speech was slurred and petulant. 'Sure I can. She was that cold with me.'

Reave agreed with him. 'Yeah, screw her. She'll have to look after herself. She dumped me, too.'

Billy's voice turned hard and quiet. 'She hadn't dumped me.'

The Minstrel Boy's laugh was mocking and unpleasant. 'So you just want to go save her because you think you can get some more of that good loving.'

'She became our partner, damn it.'

Reave scowled. 'Did she? Or was she just a bimbo along for the ride?'

The houseman chose that moment to say his piece. 'Are you gentlemen guests of the hotel?'

Billy tried to head off the houseman before Reave noticed him. 'Yes, of course we are.'

'Then perhaps you'd be more comfortable somewhere less-'

'Somewhere less what?' Reave growled. He had the expression of a man deciding whether he should throw an offending individual through a gold mirror.

The houseman stood his ground, and his hand dropped to his discreet, gold-plated sidearm. 'You're starting to distress some of the other guests. I'm sure you understand. Perhaps one of the small bars. .'

Reave's temperature seemed to be rising toward boiling. Billy looked around for some kind of help from the Minstrel Boy, but the Minstrel Boy was sunk in his chair, leaning forward with his head in his hands. Then Reave did an abrupt mood shift. He suddenly grinned at the houseman.

'You're the cutest little soldier I ever seen.'

'I really don't want any trouble, sir.'

Reave blinked. 'Trouble? Little man, you don't even know what trouble is.'

Billy quickly took him by the arm. 'Come on, Reave. Let's get out of here. We've got a lot to talk about.'

To his surprise and relief, Reave did not argue. 'Yeah, what the hell. Let's get out of here.'

Billy looked down at the Minstrel Boy. 'What about you? Are you going to come with us?'

The Minstrel Boy looked up. 'Yeah, I guess so.' He struggled to his feet and stood swaying. 'I ain't rescuing no damsels, though.'

Back in his room the Minstrel Boy stirred a whole package of alcopeak into a glass of water. Within seconds of drinking the foaming mixture, he was sledgehammered by a blinding headache. It felt as though his eyes were going to drop out, but he was coming off the drunk. He stripped off his clothes and sought refuge in the cleanse-and-massage. While he was in there, his newfound sobriety started him regretting the way he had behaved over the loss of Renatta.

He dressed in clean clothes and headed for Billy's room. When he arrived, Reave was already there, also having apparently undergone a gruff change of heart.

'So what are we going to do about this damn woman?'

'Let's find out if she's got herself listed.' Billy looked up at the mirror ceiling. It was a deep bottle-green. When he had first seen it, he had felt that getting a green room had been something of a dirty trick. It was certainly in line with his current luck. 'Room intelligence, please activate.'

'How can I serve you?'

Billy ran down Renatta's vital codes, which were scanty, to say the least. After about five seconds a head-and-shoulders hologram of a particularly sullen-looking Renatta appeared in midair.

'Renatta de Luxe. Credit count 0–0. Indigent. Claimed by Buzznoose Enterprises, who paid minimum flesh value to city for title.'

'Damn.'

'The slavers have got her already.'

The Minstrel Boy regarded the hologram thoughtfully. 'I don't see exactly what we can do.'

Billy waved the image away. 'We can go and get her back.'

'Not legally.'

'Did that ever bother us before?'

Reave shrugged. 'I guess we could buy her back.'

The Minstrel Boy was still pessimistic. 'I doubt that we've got the credit, unless we're going to run ourselves into trouble. These slavers can pretty much ask what they want for her.'

Reave nodded. 'You're probably right. She's good-looking, and they'll sure as shit want a fortune for her.'

Billy was starting to look a little desperate. Saving Renatta had started to take on the proportions of a test of his continuing ability to cut it.

'We can lean on them, can't we?' he asked. 'I mean, are the DNA Cowboys going to back down to a bunch of stinking slavers?'

'I thought we didn't call ourselves that.'

'You know what I mean.'

The Minstrel Boy's face was chilly. 'I know you're getting crazy over this woman.'

Billy and the Minstrel Boy glared at each other. Reave made a time-out sign.

'Okay, okay, there's no reason why we shouldn't give it a shot. Get the address of the slavers, and we'll go and see what they're all about. There's always the chance that they'll be sailing close to the law and we'll be able to make a deal with them.'

The warehouse that provided premises for Buzznoose Enterprises was on Tepper Lane, a back street in a faceless, twilight part of the city near the spot where the big exhaust tubes vented the city's waste products out into the nothings. The air smelled of sulfur, and the light was dim and greenish yellow. It was a grimy, nondescript windowless building. The only thing that showed that Buzznoose occupied the place was a tiny hand-lettered sign. The DNA Cowboys stared around cautiously.

'It looks sleazy enough.'

'Isn't that what we want?'

Billy hit the door chimes. At first nothing happened. Then a peephole in the door slid open, and a pair of furtive eyes looked out.

'You want something?'

Billy answered for the three of them. Despite an ongoing squirreling behind his eyes, he was making every effort to keep a semblance of control over the situation. Rescuing Renatta had been his idea, after all.

'We're looking for Buzznoose Enterprises.'

'Well, you found it.'

'We want to talk to someone about making a deal.'

'You want to make a purchase?'

'Maybe. If we see the right item.'

'You have to lodge a refundable deposit before you can inspect the merchandise.'

Billy looked outraged. 'That's absurd.'

'It keeps out the weirds looking for a cheap thrill.'

'Do we look like weirds?'

The eyes beyond the peephole were impassive. 'Weirds come in all shapes and sizes. If you want to come inside, you pay the deposit. It's as simple as that.'

Billy scowled. 'Okay, okay, we'll pay the deposit.'

The man behind the door was a swarthy individual with gold earrings and a scar down his cheek that told of a past checkered by violence. A pair of pistols, not unlike Reave's, were thrust into a wide studded belt. He indicated a chipped transaction unit set up behind the door. 'You make your deposit here.'

Reave placed his crys in the unit and slowly surveyed the place. 'So where do we find the boss? The headman?'

The swarthy individual shook his head. 'You don't talk to the boss; you talk to me.'

Reave leaned very close to him. 'Listen, sonny boy. I didn't come here to talk to the help.'

The man's hand moved toward his pistol, but Reave was quicker. His fingers locked around the man's wrist. He applied leverage and pressure.

'Do you understand me? I only talk to bosses. I have a rule about that.'

The man's jaws clenched as he tried not to flinch. Reave increased the pressure. Finally the pain was too much.

'Okay, you win. You're breaking my wrist.'

In a few moments Mempha Buzznoose himself arrived, flanked by four burly minders, hard-eyed men wearing pachuco hair nets and lots of gold jewelry. They were slapping power-down electric clubs against their hands.

Buzznoose had a mouthful of gold teeth. 'You wanted to see me?'

The Minstrel Boy was certain that the slaver was the same one they had seen with a string of sad, red-haired duplicate teenagers just after they had arrived in town. Buzznoose was fat and oily, swathed in a blue silk kaftan and carrying a short, gold-topped swagger cane under his right arm.

Billy looked the man up and down, all too conscious that the other two were waiting to see what he would do. It was time to pull himself together and prove that there was still something left of him. He had to create an aura around himself. He pushed the squirreling into one of the side tracks of his mind and took a deep mental breath; then he snapped his cuffs and squared his shoulders. The gesture helped a lot.

'We'd like to inspect your inventory,' he said.

His voice had not quite come out as strong, smooth, and authoritarian as he might have hoped, but Buzznoose's eyes were instantly watchful.

'You would, would you?'

Billy tried for cold and patrician and almost made it. The squirreling was actually quiet. 'Isn't that what you're here for? I mean, you sell slaves, don't you?'

'We don't like to use that word.'

'You can use whatever euphemism pleases you. We are here to make purchases, and we want to see what you've got.'

Buzznoose was still cagey, but he seemed to be buying the act. He was unconsciously rubbing his hands together. His fat fingers were encrusted with turquoise and gold rings.

'What exactly did you have in mind?'

Billy looked down his nose with contemptuous superiority, all the while warning himself not to overdo it. He felt stronger. He was warming into the performance. Damn it, but he could feel his aura growing. He could pull it off if he did not lose his concentration.

'We'll let you know when we see it. We are purchasing agents for a visiting dignitary who intends to avail herself fully of this city's liberal attitudes toward human purchase.'

Buzznoose was really rubbing his hands together. He seemed on the verge of bowing. 'I would be happy to escort you through the stock pens personally.'

There was an almost forgotten excitement growing inside Billy's chest. For too long he had been nothing but the underdog. The other two were ready to follow Buzznoose, but Billy did not move.

'I must warn you. We are only interested in the exceptional.'

The other two shot him glances that warned of the dangers of overacting, but Buzznoose did not appear to notice. He flashed a gleaming gold smile and became a model of obsequiousness.

'Would you please follow me?'

As they followed Buzznoose down a flight of narrow stairs, the doorman looked curiously after them. Billy ignored him. He was over the first hurdle — his own fear of himself. He felt good. He could cope.

Buzznoose's stock in trade was housed in the block-sized basement of the building. It smelled of depression, ammonia, and overcooked vegetables. It reminded Billy of a prison — which, to all effects and in everything but name, it was. The merchandise was penned up in rows of plexiglass cubes some eight feet long on each side. Red track lighting presumably was intended to display the goods as flatteringly as possible; it also made the place look like a zoo in hell. Most of the prisoners were naked except tor wrist and ankle bracelets and control collars. Most looked exceedingly depressed. By some strange irony, an invisible music system was piping chirpy computer music into the cubes. If it was supposed to lift the spirits of the inmates, it was not working.

As Buzznoose led the DNA Cowboys slowly down the aisle between the cubes, they passed a pair of blond, perfect muscleboys and more of the red-haired teenagers. A trio of apparently custom-created, very tall blue albino women regarded them with rigid, rigor mortis smiles that were negated by their sorry mournful eyes. A whole gang of dwarfs snarled and squabbled among themselves, and there were two exquisite miniature butterfly women, no more than eighteen inches tall and perfect in every detail. Buzznoose seemed to indulge heavily in template replicas and template custom rewrites. It was only good business to ensure that each slave, and even the variations of each slave, could be reproduced to the max.

Billy glanced at Buzznoose. 'You do realize that if we make a purchase, we would expect exclusive rights to the creature. Our employer would not like it if you continued to turn out duplicates from the template of what would then be her property.'

Buzznoose smiled ingratiatingly. 'Anything can be arranged if the price is right.'

At each cube they passed Buzznoose would rap sharply on the dirty armored plastic with his swagger cane, bringing those locked inside to their feet. Some jumped up as though they were terrified of Buzznoose and his minders; some, particularly the multiple duplicates, even tried their best to come on to the visitors, as though they really were eager to be purchased and taken out of the place. One of the red-haired teenagers was close to obscene in her efforts to attract their attention. From his own experience with only one duplicate, Billy could imagine how much of a living hell it must have been to be locked in with seven replicas of oneself.

Not all the inmates were quite so enthusiastic. When Buzznoose rapped on some cubes, those inside could only shuffle listlessly to their feet and stare at the visitors with dead eyes that obviously only expected to see their situation go from bad to worse. One thickset, bullheaded man with crazyspasms who looked as though he would be fit only for treadmill work actually charged the clear plastic wall, smashing at it repeatedly with his head. Two of Buzznoose's minders were dispatched to beat the man senseless with their electric clubs. It seemed that discipline, as applied to the merchandise, was instant and brutal. They did not even have to worry about damaging the goods: Blows from an electric club, though painful in the extreme, left no marks or permanent scars.

There were twenty plexiglass cubes to each aisle, and threeaisles ran the length of the basement Almost all the cubes were full. Either Buzznoose liked to maintain an extensive human menagerie, or his stock was not moving too fast. They walked down two aisles and were turning into the third. Buzznoose was starting to become anxious. Nothing appeaired to catch the interest of his supposed potential clients. So when everyone came to a full stop in front of the fifth cube in the third aisle, he looked considerably relieved.

'You like this one?'

Billy slipped out of character and let out a low whistle. 'Holy shit!'

Renatta de Luxe was the sole occupant of the cube. She was hanging by upstretched arms, her manacled wrists chained to a support hook in the roof of the cube. She was naked, and her legs and torso were covered with thin red welts. She had been beaten, and certainly not with anything as subtle as an electric club. It looked like the work of an old-fashioned whip. Her head hung down, and her hair obscured her face. Her body had taken a great deal of abuse; in addition, it was either drenched in sweat or had been oiled.

'What happened to this one?'

If Buzznoose had noticed Billy's lapse, he did not show it. 'She became violently uncooperative, and my people were forced to make an example of her. You have no idea how much trouble a single unchecked disruptive influence can cause in a place like this.'

Billy was very much aware that the other two were looking at him, waiting for him to make the next move. He had come into the place playing it by ear, with no real, comprehensive plan. Suddenly the inspiration for which he had been waiting struck. He faced Buzznoose.

'Do you know who you're holding here?'

Buzznoose, taking the question at face value, consulted a small data file attached to the cube's plexiglass front.

'Sure. She's an indigent. Used to be called Renatta de Luxe. She hit the zero, and we picked up title for minimum flesh. She's also a troublemaker. She may take a little taming, but at least she has spirit. Did you think that your client might have a use for her?'

Billy grimly shook his head as he examined the data display. 'You clearly don't know who you have here.'

Buzznoose was starting to look worried. 'I don't?'

'You're in a lot of trouble.'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

Billy took a deep breath. 'The woman you have hung up in there is none other than Deeja Vespasian, the eldest daughter of the prefect of Garth. She's kind of wild, and she's been staying in the city indulging in the kind of vices that attract the young, wealthy, and powerful to Krystaleit. She was reported missing this morning. I don't know how she came to hit the zero, but it must have been some kind of mistake or misunderstanding.'

Buzznoose was starting to display extreme agitation. 'I bought the damned woman in good faith. Check with the city.'

'I doubt that the prefect will see it that way. When he hears what you've done to his daughter, he probably won't be too interested in your faith, good or otherwise.'

Billy was very well aware that Reave and the Minstrel Boy were looking at him with veiled admiration. He warmed to his fantasy. The minders, on the other hand, were starting to become edgy and ill at ease. But Buzznoose seemed to be swallowing the fiction whole. He was starting to melt.

'Who is this prefect?'

'He's the virtual dictator of Garth. He's a brutal despot whose unpleasantness is rivaled only by his paranoia. He has a particularly well-developed sense of revenge, and he dotes on his degenerate daughter. I'd say the least that he'd do to you is to hire a couple of Nulites to blow this place to rubble.'

Buzznoose might have been worried, but he was hardly straight out of the nothings. 'How do I know there's a grain of truth in any of this?'

Billy shrugged. 'You don't.'

'It could be an elaborate con.'

'It could be, except that I haven't asked you for anything. All I've done is give you a piece of valuable information absolutely for nothing.'

One of the minders leaned close to Buzznoose and whispered something. The slaver nodded and looked at Billy.

'How do you know about all this?'

'We make our way through reality by knowing things.'

Buzznoose was sweating profusely. 'Suppose I accept that what you're telling me is true? Is there anything I can do about this? I mean, is there some way I can get rid of her? It's really the city's fault. Can't I just dump her on the street and make like I never seen her?'

Billy coldly shook his head. 'No, I doubt there's anything you can do.' He glanced at Reave and the Minstrel Boy. 'I think we should get out of here right now. We can't afford to be connected to this man in any way. The prefect will string up this idiot by his thumbs when he sees what he's done to her.' He turned on his heel and started marching back the way they had come. The Minstrel Boy and Reave fell in behind him.

'Now what?' Reave whispered.

'Keep your fingers crossed.'

'Hey, wait!' Buzznoose called after them. 'Wait just a moment.'

As Billy turned, he winked at Reave, 'Here we go.'

He faced Buzznoose. 'There's really nothing I can do for you. I've told you.'

'You can't just walk in here and drop this bomb on me and then leave. There's got to be some way out of this.'

'You might be able to skip town — although the prefect is quite capable of finding you. He's also relentless. It would be a matter of honor.' Despite his seemingly negative attitude, Billy was already walking back toward the slaver.

Buzznoose's voice was practically a wail. 'I've never even heard of this place Garth.'

'That's hardly going to have an effect on the prefect.'

'Can't you do something? You seem to know a whole lot of people.'

Billy stopped in his tracks. 'You must be joking. My partners and I can't risk our reputations and maybe even our health to bail you out.'

'Maybe you could talk to the girl. Prevail on her that it wasn't my fault she got herself listed.'

Billy folded his arms. 'That might have been possible if your goons hadn't given her that whipping.'

'She was disruptive — '

'And you had to make an example of her. Yes, yes, I heard you the first time.'

Buzznoose was pleading. 'Give me a break. Hell, I'd make it worth your while.'

Billy made an impatient gesture. 'Okay, okay, I'll tell youwhat I'll do. We'll take the girl and try and cover things up. We'll need money. Hard currency, though, no local credit.'

Suddenly Buzznoose's eyes narrowed. 'Now you're asking me for something, aren't you? You're asking me for quite a lot.'

Billy's anger was cold steel. His hands signaled total dismissal. 'Now you insult me.'

Buzznoose was fatally torn. 'I. .'

Billy looked at the Minstrel Boy and Reave and jabbed a finger toward the way out. 'We're leaving. This man is an oaf.'

The Minstrel Boy chose that moment to interrupt the proceedings. 'Before anyone goes anywhere, you'd all better take a look at this.'

Up to that moment all the concentration had been on Renatta in the fifth cube. Nobody had bothered to look in the sixth one. Inside it, four duplicates sat cross-legged on the floor. Their eyes were dull, and their expressions drugged.

Billy looked hard at Buzznoose. 'This really complicates matters.'

Buzznoose was rapidly shaking his head. 'No, no, take the girl. I can dispose of these.'

Billy glared at him. 'You can't kill them. You understand that? This is a matter of hereditary power and the divine right of prefects. If so much as one part of one body was found. . ' He let the horror that would fall on Buzznoose remain unstated. 'You'll have to take them a long way from here, wipe their memories, and turn them loose.'

'I'll do it. I'll do it. Just take the girl. I'll get you the money.'

Billy pointed to the Renatta in the fifth cube. 'I'm presuming that this one is the original.'

Buzznoose nodded eagerly. 'Yes, yes, that's the original.'

At that, one of the duplicates raised her head. 'She's not the original. I'm the original.' She seemed to be confused and tobe having difficulty focusing her eyes.

The other women took up a slurred chorus.

'I'm the original.'

'I'm the original.'

Just as Billy was starting to worry that things were getting out of hand, Reave caught hold of Buzznoose's aim.

'There is one other thing that might help placate the prefect s daughter when we get her away from here.'

'What's that?'

'Those two little butterfly women. They might help take her mind off her injuries.'

Billy looked at Reave as though he had gone crazy. What the hell was he up to now?

Buzznoose, however, was at the stage where he would agree to anything. 'Sure, sure, whatever you say.'

While the slaver was away making the arrangements, one of his minders moved to get Renatta from the cage. Billy waved him away. 'I'll get her.'

He let himself into the cube. When he reached up and loosened Renatta's manacles, she sagged against him.

'I thought you were never going to get here.'

Billy spoke to her in a voice that was too low for the minders to hear. 'Can you walk?'

'Sure, if you just give me a minute,'

'Did they hurt you badly?'

'I've been through worse in the Caverns, and that was supposed to be fun.'

The duplicates were solemnly watching through two thicknesses of plexiglass.

'Can you keep your mouth shut and make like a princess?' Billy asked.

'If that's what you want. I heard the conversation. These cubes aren't soundproof. You've got a lot of nerve for a damage case, Billy Oblivion.'

Billy looked smugly modest. 'I was just on a roll.'

He helped her down from the cube and waved to the minders. 'Get her some clothes. Quickly, now.'

As Renatta dressed, Buzznoose returned with the cash and the two butterfly girls, who looked extremely apprehensive as they were handed over to Reave.

'I'll see you out,' the slaver offered.

Billy stopped him. 'Don't bother. We'll find our own way. You start to arrange the dispersal of those duplicates.'

As they walked away, the duplicates, despite the drugs they had been given, set up a desperate clamor. On the stairs leading up from the basement Renatta whispered to Billy.

'We've got to get out of here real fast. It won't be too long before those duplicates decide to tell the slaver who we all really are.'

'Why should they do that?'

'Pure spite at being left behind.'

'How do you know that?'

'It's what I'd do, and they're exact copies of me.'

They filed past a very surprised looking door minder. Reave was carrying the two butterfly girls. Once they were out of the door and around the first corner, he set them down.

'Okay, beat it.'

The two butterfly girls looked at him in blank amazement. They spoke in unison in high melodic voices.

'What are you talking about?'

It was Reave's turn to be surprised. 'I'm setting you free. You can go. I've rescued you. Get out of here before Buzz-noose's goons come after us trying to make trouble.'

'Are you crazy? We can't survive out here around normals. We're tailored pets. Someone has to look after us. If you put us down here, we could be eaten by a cat, or worse. Life's tough when you're only eighteen inches tall. You ought to try it sometime. It ain't just singing Mothra.'

'I can't look after you.'

'Then you're an asshole. You know what we're going to have to do?'

Reave shook his head. The butterfly girls looked at him with expressions of complete contempt.

'We're going to have to hide out in a drain or somewhere until things have cooled down, and then we'll have to go back to Buzznoose, and he'll punish us. We need an owner, goddamn it, not a fucking white knight.'

Before Reave could say anything, Renatta raised the alarm.

'Here's trouble right now.'

A knot of what could only be Buzznoose's goons, reinforced by some of the neighborhood lowlife, came running around the corner. There were maybe a dozen of them, all carrying powerclubs or shockbillies. Only a few were armed with projectile weapons, but those few were more than enough to start a spattering of particle beams and bullets hissing and whining around Renatta and the DNA Cowboys.

The quarry scattered in different directions. Billy crouched, preparing to take off running; Renatta dived into a doorway; the Minstrel Boy whipped out his Colt, returned fire, and dived for cover. The butterfly girls disappeared into a culvert. Only Reave stood his ground.

'I'm tired of taking shit from everyone who wants to hand it out!' he roared. 'Come on! Let's fuck them up!'

Both his pistols were out, and he had laid down a one-man fusillade. The Minstrel Boy lay flat, shooting with care. Reave was still roaring defiance.

'Firepower, boyos! Nothing beats firepower!'

He kept on firing, flamboyantly spinning his pistols. Three of Buzznoose's men went down in the first burst. The others slowed up considerably. It was one thing to beat up a trio of con men, totally another to face down a seemingly crazy, heavily armed gunman. The Minstrel Boy was getting to his feet. Firing as they went, he and Reave slowly advanced on their pursuers. Billy brought up the rear, the goon squad was still out of range of his little needler.

The Minstrel Boy squared his shoulders as the Colt bucked in his hand. The old feeling was back. They were standing tall again, reckless and dangerous gods. They did not give a damn. Bullets hummed past them and beams flashed, but the bad guys could not touch them. They had the aura, the big, old three-way aura that would not let them be touched, just like in the old days. Two more of Buzznoose's men went down, and the others took to their heels. Reave kept walking and firing. He picked off one more before he and the Minstrel Boy lowered their weapons.

Reave pushed back his plumed hat and cracked a broad grin. 'Damn me, but that feels a whole lot better.'

The Minstrel Boy spun his pistol and dropped it into its holster. 'Damn me, but it does.'

Reave glanced wolfishly at Billy. 'That was some con you ran back there, Billy boy. You had him going with that prefect of Garth shit. I didn't know you had it in you anymore.'

Billy shrugged. In fact, he was desperately tired, but he refused to let anyone know that. 'Hell, it's easy running a con. You don't have to be yourself. You're anyone but yourself. That's what makes it easy.'

As Billy said the words, the abyss yawned in front of him and the squirreling came back with a vengeance, but he did not go down. The other two were beside him, and the bonding held him in place. The old triad could still do the business.

While Renatta watched with a look of bemused confusion, the three of them broke into peals of loud laughter that was well off the edge of sanity.