There was a clatter of garbage cans, and two men broke cover and ran, weaving in a low crouch down the alley. Jeb Stuart Ho snapped off a shot, and one of them fell. He was about to fire again, but the second man vanished into the shadows.
Ho, still flat on the ground, moved sideways like a crab. He reached the cover of the Sex-O-Mat wall and cautiously stood up. Still holding his gun, he drew his sword left-handed. He moved slowly and carefully down the alley. He was tensed to shoot at the slightest movement. After about twelve paces he came upon the body of one of the assassins. There was an ugly hole in his chest, and he was quite dead. Jeb Stuart Ho felt a grim satisfaction at his marksmanship. He now only had one killer to deal with. He moved on along the alley, keeping a careful watch on the deep shadows.
There was a slight movement, and Ho sprang sideways like a cat as a riot gun went off. A handful of particles nicked the right arm of his suit. He landed fractionally off balance, and before he could fire, a figure leaped to its feet and started running back in the direction of the street. The man made an easy target against the streetlights. Jeb Stuart Ho was about to fire, but then he changed his mind. He wanted this one alive. He dropped his gun into its holster, switched his sword to his right hand, and went after him.
When he reached the pavement the man hesitated for a moment and then ran to his right. A second later, Jeb Stuart Ho turned the corner, and saw him duck inside the Sex-O-Mat. Jeb Stuart Ho followed. Inside the brightly lit doorway was a red velvet curtain. He swept it aside and found a turnstile. He didn’t bother to fumble for his credit card. He jumped it. There was no sign of the man in the small anteroom. He went on into a red-lit corridor. On either side of it were red doors that led into two rows of cubicles. The man must have taken refuge in one of the cubicles. Jeb Stuart Ho started towards the first. A figure appeared from a small alcove.
‘Hey you!’
Ho swung round with his sword in the ready position. It was a guardian. Probably the Sex-O-Mat bouncer. The clone seemed to ignore the pointed sword and kept on coming.
‘You have entered without paying.’
Ho took a step back.
‘Did a man come through here?’
The clone kept on moving towards him.
‘You will either leave or pay.’
He produced a short club from his belt. Jeb Stuart Ho took another step back. He was struck by a sense of the absurd. Here he was, an expert swordsman, backing away from a man with a small billy club. He had no desire to kill the man, but he couldn’t afford to lose the gunman. He deliberately lowered his sword. The guardian swung his club at his head. Jeb Stuart Ho’s hand flashed up and blocked the blow. At the same time, the hilt of his sword flicked the clone behind the ears. He suddenly sagged to the floor. Jeb Stuart Ho stepped over him and started down the corridor.
Each door had a small tri-di cube set in the door, just below eye level. This gave the customer an idea of what particular attraction the cubicle contained. The first one showed a young girl lying down with her legs spread wide. She was caressing herself with a single repeating motion. The cubes were obviously run on a single short loop. On the second door a well-built girl in an outfit of leather and studs repeatedly cracked a long bullwhip, while the third showed a muscular young man flexing his biceps.
The fourth was blank. It looked as though it was filled with a kind of pink mist. Jeb Stuart Ho assumed that it was the sign that the cubicle was occupied. He took a pace back and then launched himself at the door. His foot hit the lock and it shattered. He pivoted so a riot gun blast from inside the cubicle wouldn’t hit him. None came. He pushed the door. A girl was on all fours on the bed, a small fat man crouching over her. They both stared at Jeb Stuart Ho, wide-eyed with shock and fear. He muttered his apologies and closed the damaged door.
The next two had images in the cube. The third was occupied. He hit the door. This time he interrupted a. loose-skinned middle-aged woman being thrashed by a handsome, golden-tanned young man. Again Ho made his excuses and shut the door.
At the third door Jeb Stuart Ho hesitated. All he seemed to be doing was progressively breaking up the Sex-O-Mat and frightening the customers. The man should be in the place somewhere. He poised himself to hit the door. At the last moment he remembered to twist and avoid any blast inside the cubicle. A fraction of a second later his care was rewarded. A riot gun blast shattered the door frame.
Ho rolled into the room. A small man in dirty overalls was half standing, half kneeling on the bed. A frightened sex operative was huddled in the corner. Before the gunman could fire again, Ho stabbed his sword clean through his foot. The man screamed. Ho lashed out with his foot and knocked the riot gun out of his hands. The man attempted to drag the sword out of his foot, but Jeb Stuart Ho kept on holding the sword. The man gashed his hand and gave up the attempt. Ho flicked one of his knives forward into his hand from the sheath on his arm. He placed it gently under the man’s chin.
‘I wish to talk to you.’
‘My foot! Take the goddamn sword out.’
‘When you’ve told me what I want to know.’
‘I ain’t saying nothing.’
‘But you are. You are making a great deal of noise. I need to know why you tried to kill me.’
‘I can’t tell you.’
‘Why not?’
‘They’ll kill me.’
‘Who will kill you?’
‘I’m not saying.’
‘I will kill you. It will be very slow and painful. I have no desire to do it, but I need the information you have very badly.’
The man looked desperate.
‘If I talk I’ll be killed.’
Jeb Stuart Ho looked at him with great patience.
‘If that is the truth, you must accept death, for if you don’t talk, I am going to kill you.’
‘Please …’
‘I take it that A.A. Catto hired you.’
‘I don’t know any A.A. Catto.’
Jeb Stuart Ho twisted the sword a little. The man gasped and sweat stood out on his forehead.
‘Listen … It was a girl that hired me. For fuck’s sake take that thing out of my foot.’
‘Where’s the girl now?’
‘I can’t tell you.’
Jeb Stuart Ho put his face very close to that of the snan.
‘It’s just occurred to me that you might fear castration even more than death.’
The man gave a strangled shriek as Jeb Stuart Ho slowly moved his knife towards his genitals. The tip touched the material of the man’s overalls. Jeb Stuart Ho paused.
‘For the last time, where is she?’
The eyes darted from side to side in terror. Finally he gave in.
‘She’s holed up at the Leader Hotel.’
Ho jerked the sword out of the man’s foot. He fell back on the bed, groaning. Ho turned to the boy.
‘Is there a back way out of here?’
He could already hear LDC sirens outside. He didn’t want to run into Bannion so soon after the last time. The boy started to giggle hysterically. He slapped him across the face.
‘Can I get out at the back?’
He pulled himself together.
‘There’s a fire exit at the far end of the corridor. It leads out into the alley.’
Jeb Stuart Ho let himself out. He ran down the alley, away from the patrolmen who were milling in front of the Sex-O-Mat. When he reached the next main street he flagged down a cab.
‘Leader Hotel, and quickly.’
***
The com-screen buzzed in Nancy’s room at the Leader. Reave answered it. The room had been turned into a virtual command post. In addition to A.A. Catto, Reave, Nancy and Billy, Monk and four other hoods including Wormo hung about waiting for news. The Minstrel Boy squatted in a corner with his hands tied. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of booze. As the screen came to life it brought the face of little Sammy into focus. He looked agitated.