Last Stand of the DNA Cowboys

Billy leaned close to the Minstrel Boy. 'I think this is our local bigwig.'

The Minstrel Boy grunted. 'Probably the first of many.'

'Which one of you is Reave Mekonta?'

Reave took a step forward. 'I am.'

The local bigwig airily gestured toward the R1009. 'This thing has to be removed from here. You have not only landed here illegally, but you have placed your aircraft on one of the most sacred areas of the Holy Reality. This alone would be cause enough for me to have you arrested for Grand Sacrilege.'

As he uttered the word "arrest," Billy hefted the multiplex in silent indication that arresting them might not be as easy as it sounded. Reave folded his arms.

'The ship is a wreck. It can't be moved without extensive repairs.'

Renatta stepped up beside him. 'And who might you be, anyway? You seem to be giving out a lot of orders. Are you in charge here?'

The local bigwig drew himself up to his full height. 'I am Dass-el-Hame. I am the Elevated Palarch of the Holy Reality of Palanaque, and I'm telling you that that aircraft has to be removed. It is an affront to the sacred power of the Great Pyramid.'

'I fear we're running into a bureaucratic deadlock,' Blaisdell muttered to the Minstrel Boy.

'So what else is new?'

The Elevated Palarch was not finished. 'There is also the matter of your weapons. There can be no energy or projectile weapons in the Holy Reality. I must insist that you surrender them.'

It was Stent who answered. 'We are contract warriors, and you take our weapons at your peril.'

The Minstrel Boy wondered how exactly anyone could take either Stent's or Jet Ace's weapons, seeing as how they werebuilt directly into their bodies. For the metal men to lay down their arms would be a matter of major surgery.

The Elevated Palarch inflated his chest. 'I will give you exactly one minute to hand over your armaments.'

Reave looked around at the others. Billy shrugged. If it came to a firefight, they were ready. He could not quite believe that Dass-el-Hame was dumb enough to actually push his ultimatum, although Billy had spent a lifetime being regularly surprised by the stupidity of those in authority. Some of the local hoplites seemed to share his feelings. Although they still stood at rigid attention, many of those in the front line of the cordon looked decidedly unhappy at the direction events seemed to be taking

Fortunately, before the minute was up, a distraction put the inevitable violence on hold. The first sign was the glow of torches, which burned with strange aquamarine flames, coming up the steps that led to the plaza in front of the Great Pyramid. Renatta glanced at Reave.

'Now what?'

'Who the hell knows, in a place like this?'

Some kind of procession seemed to be coming toward the airship. A murmuring arose in the crowd beyond the line of soldiers and grew rapidly into a full-voiced chant.

'Laud and magnify!'

'Laud and magnify!'

'Laud and magnify the blessed Name!'

'Laud and magnify the blessed Name of Parshew-a-Thar, beloved Master of the Holy Reality!'

Clay Blaisdell grimaced. 'So the top dog is coming to take a look at us.'

The Minstrel Boy grinned. 'That's what I always say: If you want to get results, go to the top.'

The crowd was parting, and Dass-el-Hame ordered his men to step aside. The beloved Master of the Holy Reality came with considerable pomp and circumstance and a retinue suitable for one who had his followers believing that he was the next best thing to a god. First there was a quartet of cherubic small boys in white surplices, swinging brass censers and laying a pall of sickly-sweet perfumed smoke. The small boys were followed by eight young women in dresses of wispy, pale blue silk, playing barls and tambourines and strewing the path with fresh rose petals. Parshew-a-Thar himself was carried in a litter, borne on the broad bare shoulders of six identical, body-beautiful nefrites with blue skin and white-blond hair, who must have been specially tailored for their job. The litter was luxuriously carved and finished in gold leaf. The backrest and canopy were shaped in the form of a towering mythical beast, a winged thing whose pinions folded protectively around the occupant. The beloved Master of the Holy Reality reclined languidly on a pile of silk cushions. His left hand was buried in a bowl of sparkling gems that presumably were charging him up with cosmic crystal energy.

The Master came as something of a surprise. He was young and very small, hardly the godlike figure they had expected. He seemed slack-faced and epicene, not much more than a pouting, petulant child with staring eyes that were pale and dark-ringed from some precocious debauchery and a tiny rosebud mouth that seemed to be set in a pout of permanent discontent. A blue silk toga was wrapped around a chubby pink body that obviously took no exercise and had been formed by a life of absolute indulgence.

'Laud and magnify the blessed Name of Parshew-a-Thar, beloved Master of the Holy Reality.'

Renatta looked at Reave in amazement. 'That spoiled-looking brat is the holy of holies?'

'So it would seem.'

'Damn.'

The nefrites lowered the litter to the flagstones. Parshew-a-Thar regarded the airship as though he had only just noticed it and it had come as an unpleasant surprise.

'What is that thing doing in front of our pyramid?'

The Master had a high-pitched, querulous voice that was perfectly suited to the willful baby face. It was accompanied by strange birdlike gestures of his hands, which added a measure of inhuman weirdness to the pampered petulance. Since he was addressing no one in particular none of the seven felt the need to answer him. It was left to a nervous Dass-el-Hame to explain the presence of the airship.

'They crash-landed here. They claim it's the last ship out of Krystaleit before it was destroyed.'

'We want it moved. We can't have that thing in front of our pyramid.'

The Minstrel Boy wondered how it must feel to be able to talk about a pyramid as one's own personal property.

Dass-el-Hame bowed low. Billy could imagine that he was probably sweating.

'They claim it can't be moved.'

'Of course it can be moved. Bring epsilons and ropes. They can haul it away. If we can build a pyramid, we can certainly remove an unsightly airship.'

Dass-el-Hame bowed low. 'Of course, blessed Master. It will be done at once.'

'There is also the matter of their weapons.'

'It has been explained to them that such weapons are forbidden in the Holy Reality. They have been ordered to surrender them, but they seem unwilling to comply.'

Parshew-a-Thar dismissed the problem with one of his quick birdlike gestures. As far as he was concerned, the answer was patently obvious. 'Punish them.'

Dass-el-Hame bowed again. He had the weighed-down stoop of a man who was faced with the prospect of punishing seven heavily armed combat veterans when backed up only by a bunch of guys with oversized pool cues. Reave could feel for him, but it really was not Reave's problem. Under no circumstances wan he going to give up his pistols.

Parshew-a-Thar was once again staring resentfully at the R1009. 'How did this thing become damaged?'

Reave decided that it was time to step into the conversation. 'We had a close encounter with a disrupter.'

The Master's head turned sharply. He looked directly at Reave for the first time. Again there was something birdlike about this movement. 'A disrupter? We want to hear about a disrupter. We are very interested in disrupters.'

Reave knew it was time to deal. 'What about our weapons?'

Before the Master could answer, the metaphysicians, led by Showcross Gee, emerged from the airship.

'Greetings, Parshew-a-Thar.'

Parshew-a-Thar looked around angrily, and his voice went up half an octave. 'We don't want these people in our domain! Have them removed!'

Showcross Gee raised a calming hand. He suddenly seemed a much more authoritative figure than the blessed Master.