As the platform hove into view and started its descent, the chant broke up and died. When we reached the ten meter level, I could make out a clear division in the crowd — ragtag urchins in the front, better dressed Realpeople toward the rear. The two groups weren't mixing much. Behind me, the entrances to the Pyramid were blocked with armed yellowjackets.
Waved to the kids and toggled my chin mike on.
HELLOOOO, URCHINS! boomed into the air from speakers somewhere in the Pyramid's wall.
Some of them must have been Lost Boys because a murmur ran through their ranks. It grew into a new chant, shorter, choppier than the other: "Sig-gy! Sig-gy! Sig-gy!.."
Nowhere near as loud as the Wendy chant because the Realpeople weren't joining in. Probably asking themselves who or what 'round Sol was this Siggy? After all, he hadn't been on the datastream last night.
But the kids knew the name. All those little faces and big hopeful eyes looking up at me. Gave me a chill.
"HAVE A MESSAGE FOR YOU ABOUT WENDY."
The volume of the ensuing mad cheer rattled the platform and then the Wendy chant started again.
Hated myself for what I was about to do. To put it off a little longer, I let the chant build. Turned off the mike and said to the aide: "By the way, how can you close M.A. Central? Thought it was supposed to be open to all citizens all hours of the day."
The aide's smile was smug. "True, but we found a forgotten ordinance that prohibits children unless accompanied by an adult."
"Well, well," I said. "Isn't that bloaty."
The urchin part of the crowd began shifting, squirming, and flowing, and suddenly there was B.B. on somebody's shoulders, waving and beaming with pride. Could see it in his eyes: Siggy's here. Siggy won't let us down. Siggy can do anything.
That was the moment I made my decision.
"Take me down to get that kid," I said.
"That's not in the script."
"Let me improvise a little. What I've got to say will be a lot more effective if I've got one of the Lost Boys sitting on my shoulders."
The aide talked to the Pyramid. They must have had a conference in Brode's office because the answer took a while coming. But apparently he got the okay because we began to descend.
Motioned to the kids below to clear a spot around B.B. They backed away from him when we got down to a height of about two meters.
That was when I jumped ship. Over the rail and onto the ground.
"Hey!" the aide yelled. "You can't do that!"
Ignored him. Scooped up B.B. and hustled him toward the nearest entrance to the Pyramid. The cheering urchins made way for us.
The aide followed us above and behind on the platform. He shouted to the yellowjackets at the door I was approaching.
"Stop him!"
This was it. This was where I put the blaster to my head and pulled the trigger. Was endangering Doc and Elmero and even B.B., but that couldn't be helped. Nobody could memwipe a client of mine and rub my nose in it and figure they could bully me into saying, Thank you, sir, and yes, I'll help cool some of the heat you're getting.
Dreg that.
Don't mind getting pushed around some. Expect a certain amount of it. That's life. Not a rad, not an oozer, not a mal. But there were limits. Brode had found mine.
And I was going to bring him down if I could.
The yellowjackets closed ranks ahead of me. Flicked on my chin mike, wheeled it to max, and shouted at the top of my voice: "I AM A CITIZEN OF THE MEGALOPS AND DEMAND ENTRANCE TO THE PYRAMID! THAT IS THE LAW!"
The sound was deafening. Like hearing thunder up close from inside a cloud. Like the voice of God. All the urchins around me cringed and bowed and slapped their hands over their ears. Was almost knocked to my knees by my own voice.
The yellowjackets were clearly shaken. Could barely hear the nearest as he spoke: "No urchins."
"HE IS ACCOMPANIED BY AN ADULT! STAND ASIDE NOW!"
As they winced at the noise, I slid between them before either of them could grab me. When I reached the inner floor, I raised my voice and said, "ALL RIGHT, EVERYBODY! FOLLOW-"
My mike was suddenly cut off. But as I turned, I saw it didn't matter. Realpeople were pushing through the crowd carrying urchins in their arms, on their shoulders. The yellowjackets made halfhearted attempts to stop them, but the Realpeople were adamant. They were incensed. And the law was on their side. Even saw one of the yellowjackets pick up a kid himself and march inside.
Like water through the floodgates of a dam, they poured in on all four sides of the ground level, washing along the floor, choking ground level and rising to fill the perimeter arcades on the second. It wasn't long before the chant began again, echoing through the air, rattling the cavernous interior of the Pyramid: "WEN-DEEEEEE! WEN-DEEEEEE! WEN-DEEEEEE!.."
Held B.B. on my shoulders and let him chant away, but didn't join in myself. What was the use? The Wendy he knew was dead. Brode wasn't going to bring her down and show her hollow remains to the crowd. But if things went the way I hoped, maybe this crowd would bring him down — not down here, but down. And out of office.
He ruined a client of mine. Now I was going to ruin him. Or go down trying.
The chant went on forever with no signs of diminishing. More people were squeezing in from outside — there were still lots more out there than in here — and pushing up to higher and higher levels on the inner walls. Given enough time, we'd soon occupy every square centimeter of the Pyramid. Erode was going to have to do something, and quick. And he did.
A floater platform like the one I'd been on outside — maybe the same one — glided out from one of the upper levels and began descending along the wall to my right. Looked like it was riding the huge shaft of midday sun pouring through the apex. Squinted into the glare and made out four figures on it.
The chant died as we all watched and waited to see who was coming.
"Hoodat, Sig? Wendy come?"
Poor kid. Didn't want him to get his hopes up.
"Don't think so, Beeb. Let's just hope they're not carrying slime guns."
We watched it sink lower. Suddenly B.B. screamed.
"Her, Sig! Wendy! Her! Her!"
He was right. Couldn't believe my eyes, but there she was, Jean Harlow-c herself, standing at the front rail of the platform, looking dazed as she stared at the crowd. Couldn't believe Brode had the nerve to do this. What was he planning? Did he really think he could get away with it?
The urchins went wild but the Realpeople around me held back. Knew why, too. They had all seen the datastream last night. They knew she had been scheduled to be wiped first thing this morning. They feared they were looking at a shell.
They were right.
Then I looked at her companions on the platform and almost dropped B.B. off my shoulders. It was Brode himself, one of his aides at the controls, and Lum.
What was going on here?
A million thoughts screamed through my mind. Was this a scam? Had they made a Wendy holosuit? Was there an actress in there? But no, it didn't look like a holo — the outline was too crisp. And what was Lum doing up there with Brode? Had they bought him off somehow? Or twisted his arm to the breaking point like they tried with me?
The platform stopped at thirty meters. Jean still looked dazed. They must have taught her a speech. One that would send everybody home. This was going to be bad.