The Minstrel Boy raised an eyebrow.
‘And who might you be?’
The corsair inflated his chest.
‘I am Left of the Havens. I am chief vigilante for the Inn. I’m asking where you think you’re going.’
The Minstrel Boy gave him a long hard look.
‘Why?’
Left of the Havens lowered his head and began to chant.
‘Left of the Havens, all men fear.’
His voice started out quietly, but quickly rose in pitch.
‘They step aside when I draw near.’
The chant rose to a shout. He pulled a long, straight back razor from the top of his boot and deftly flicked it open.
‘I got my straight razor and my cannon too, talk nice, brother, or I’ll mess with you.’
The final phrase came out as a high speed gabble. It was the corsairs’ time honoured ritual of winding themselves up for a fight. The Minstrel Boy raised a placating hand.
‘Just hold it right there, friend. We aren’t looking for any kind of fight.’
Billy joined in.
‘That’s right. We were just looking to buy a drink, that’s all. We’ve been to the Inn before. It was never like this.’
The Minstrel Boy shot Billy a jaundiced glance. Billy wondered if it was because he’d given away the fact that they had money, or because the Minstrel Boy’s last visit to the Inn had been far from pleasant. Left of the Havens looked from one to the other of them.
‘You say you just want a drink.’
Billy nodded.
‘That’s right.’
The corsair nodded to a makeshift fence that enclosed the front entrance of the Inn.
‘Nobody gets past without our say so.’
‘So how do we get your say so?’
One of the wheelfreaks interrupted.
‘Why don’t you just cut him now, Left, and be done with it?’
Left of the Havens rounded on the little man.
‘You hush your mouth, Seatbelt. I’m dealing with this.’
The one in the gold coat giggled. His gun, however, didn’t waver. It remained pointing steadily at the Minstrel Boy’s stomach. The corsair turned back to Billy.
‘To get inside you got to do three things.’
‘Which are?’
‘First, we got to be sure we like you. Them we don’t like, don’t get in. Them we really don’t like, we kill them and throw their bodies in the nothings.’
‘And do you like us?’
The corsair stroked his chin.
‘You ain’t got off to too smart a start, but we’ll let that go for now. The second thing you got to do …’
Seatbelt interrupted again.
‘Aah, cut them now, Left. I wanna see you cut them.’
Left glared at him.
‘I thought I told you to hush your mouth.’
The wheelfreak’s voice took on a whining quality.
‘I just wanna see one cutting, is all.’
‘You’ll see some cutting if you don’t hush your mouth.’
The wheelfreak became resentfully silent. The effeminate one giggled again. Left of the Havens glowered at him.
‘You hush up too, Gloria.’
He beamed at Billy and the Minstrel Boy. Billy had a feeling the relationship was changing.
‘The second thing you got to do, gentlemen, is to satisfy us that you ain’t undesirables.’
‘Undesirables?’
‘Undesirables.’
Left jerked his thumb to a crude but formidable cage on the outside of a section of fence. It contained a group of pathetic creatures. There were a pair of white, hairless dwarfs with stunted bodies and huge hydrocephalic heads, a tall thin half human with blue scales, and what appeared to be a whole family of squat hermaphrodites. Their bodies were covered with coarse reddish hair. Lines of breasts ran down their bodies rather like those of a sow.
A crowd had gathered round the cage. They taunted the collection of freaks. A few even tried to poke them with sticks. Billy looked at the corsair in disgust.
‘They’re only mutants from out on the edge.’
‘Round here they’re undesirables. People don’t want that kind of trash round here. They don’t like it.’
The Minstrel Boy interrupted before an argument could start. It was too bad about the mutations, but he had himself to look after.
‘We ain’t like that.’
‘I can see that.’
‘So what’s the third thing we got to do before we can get inside for a drink?’
The corsair beamed, flashing a mouthful of gold teeth.
‘You got to pay us.’
‘Money?’
‘Money.’
Billy looked at the Minstrel Boy with raised eyebrows. The Minstrel Boy shrugged in resignation. Billy proffered a handful of small Port Judas coins. Left of the Havens took them. He picked one and bit on it. He seemed satisfied as to the quality of the money, but there was some doubt about the quantity. He discussed the matter with his companions in a low voice. Then he turned back to Billy and the Minstrel Boy.
‘Is that all you’ve got?’
‘We’re refugees, not tourists.’
There was another whispered debate. Left of the Havens grudgingly dropped the money into the pouch on his belt.
‘It’ll have to do, I guess.’
Seatbelt looked at Left in surprise.
‘You mean you’re going to let them through, just like that?’
‘Just like that.’
‘You ain’t going to cut them or nothing? No surgery?’
‘You heard what I said.’
The little wheelfreak spat at Billy’s and the Minstrel Boy’s feet.
‘Shit.’
The Minstrel Boy glanced sourly at Billy.
‘It’s good to see law and order in action.’
They eased their way past the four vigilantes and hurried through the crowd towards the entrance of the Inn. It was jammed with travellers waiting to get a drink. Billy wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.
‘This is going to take a bit of time.’
They stood in line and waited, watching the crowd milling in and out of the forecourt. The four vigilantes continued to move around, kicking the beggars and shaking down any group of refugees who looked as if they might have enough cash or goods to make it worth while. The Minstrel boy took off his hat and fanned himself. The vast hordes who had flocked into the Inn made it impossible for the Inn’s relatively small generators to maintain a constant temperature. The Minstrel Boy mopped his face and scowled.
‘We got to get out of here as soon as we can.’
He pointed to a telltale blue flicker around the edge of the nothings.
‘The generators are pushed to the limit. I figure they’ll overload and blow.’
‘Maybe we should just get out, right now.’
The Minstrel Boy put his hat back on with an air of finality. ‘I ain’t going anywhere without a drink.’
They continued to wait and the heat went on increasing. Refugees kept coming down the road in a sluggish stream. Billy nervously eyed the edge of the nothings. The blue flicker became more pronounced. Billy knew it wasn’t only the heat making him sweat. Suddenly he spotted something else.
‘Will you look at that!’
In a corner formed by the Inn wall and a buttress, a group of juveniles were gathered together. A very young girl lay sprawled at their feet. One of them squirmed on top of her, while the rest stood round and shouted encouragement. They wore purple silk jump suits. Their hair was cropped into shaggy bush cuts and dyed green. The words Stratosphere Zombies were blazoned across their backs in yellow letters. The throng moved past the sordid tableau without taking any apparent notice. Billy eased his gun out of its holster.
‘I’m going to do something about that.’
The Minstrel Boy grunted.
‘You’re crazy. That razor toting corsair will slice you from ear to ear if you start trouble.’
Another of the gang had climbed on top of the girl, taking the place vacated by his companion.