‘I ain’t going to stand by and watch it happen.’
The Minstrel Boy’s eyes rolled heavenwards.
‘It’s only a gang rape.’
‘What do you mean, only? It shouldn’t happen, it’s barbaric.’
”It happens every day.’
‘It ought to be stopped.’
The Minstrel Boy began to get impatient. His voice became heavily sarcastic.
‘So tell the law and order boys.’
‘I’ll just do that.’
‘Mother of God!’
Billy walked quickly towards the corsair and his three mates. He shouted back at the Minstrel Boy.
‘You just stay there and wait for your booze, I’ll take care of this.’
The Minstrel Boy muttered under his breath. He pulled a battered cigar out of his pocket. He lit it, and then resolutely faced in the opposite direction. Billy marched firmly up to Left of the Havens.
‘There’s a gang rape going on over there.’
The corsair looked at him in amazement.
‘So?’
‘So I’m reporting it.’
‘Listen, thanks, but I really don’t get off behind watching that kind of thing.’
Gloria in the gold jacket flashed his teeth at Billy.
‘Left here, he likes to be what you call a … uh … participant.’
Billy shook his head frantically.
‘I ain’t telling you about it so you can watch it, I’m telling you so you can stop it.’
‘Stop it? What you talking about? What for we want to stop people having fun?’
The girl ain’t having any fun.’
Gloria smiled sweetly at Billy.
‘The guys are, and there’s more of them.’
Seatbelt grinned.
‘That’s democracy at work.’
Billy waved his hands helplessly.
‘You ain’t going to stop it?’
‘Why?’
‘You’re the law.’
‘We’re vigilantes.’
‘It’s the same thing.’
‘It ain’t.’
‘It ain’t?’
‘We take care of admission fees and undesirables. Rape ain’t none of our business. It’s outside our terms of reference.’
‘So you ain’t going to do anything?’
Left nodded.
‘You got it.’
Billy spun on his heel. He walked quickly towards the gang of youths. To his surprise they had already finished with the girl. She lay sobbing on the ground while they moved on in search of other entertainment. Billy stopped, shrugged and then started back towards the entrance. The Minstrel Boy was leaning against the wall. He had an unlabelled bottle of yellowish liquid in his hand, and another one stashed in his pocket. He offered Billy the booze as he came up and leaned against the wall beside him.
‘Did you stop the rape?’
‘No.’
Billy disconsolately tipped a generous measure down his throat.
‘Goddamn!’
Billy coughed and choked. Tears sprang into his eyes. It was some near poisonous home brew. The Minstrel Boy laughed.
‘What do you expect?’
Billy took a deep breath.
‘Let’s get out of here, shall we? Hey?’
***
A black painted airship drifted over the city of Litz. It floated just above the rooftops of the average buildings, and navigated in and out between the taller skyscrapers. It moved slowly towards the outskirts of the city and the encircling lines of the invaders from Quahal.
The ship was almost invisible against the darkness of the sky. It rode without lights and the only sound was the soft hum of its high rev flutter engine. The entire envelope had been painted matt black, with the single exception of a sign that read ‘Supplied by Worthington Rentals’,
The ship had been donated free of charge by Worthington, and they’d insisted on the sign. It was only in Litz that machines went into combat with advertising plastered on their sides.
Nineteen hard bitten ex-cops of the L.D.C. were crowded into the small passenger cabin of the gondola. The lights were off, there was no conversation and the air smelled heavy with sweat and dirty uniforms. The cabin air conditioning had never been designed to cope with that number of people.
In front of them, Bannion, the Wanderer and a civilian pilot called Kronski sat side by side. Bannion looked at the other two. Their faces were eerily illuminated by the green glow of the instrument panel. Kronski was a wiry little man, with the sharp face of a small cunning bird of prey. He was sweating inside his black leather aviator’s jacket. He had an unlit cigar clenched between his teeth. Every so often a muscle in his cheek would twitch, and his knuckles were white where he gripped the control column. Bannion couldn’t see his eyes, they were shadowed by a long billed baseball cap. He was sure that they were darting from side to side.
The Wanderer was a complete contrast. His eyes were half closed, and he seemed comfortable and relaxed. Bannion was still suspicious of his wayfinder. He was unhappy at being forced to trust the old man.
‘We’re coming up to the city limits.’
Kronski’s voice jerked Bannion out of his troubled observations. Bannion glanced out. He could just see the patchwork of narrow roads and single storey boxes that made up the outer suburbs. Here and there fires burned where enemy raiding parties had hit key suburban areas. Kronski twitched again.
‘We’ll be getting into their range in about two minutes.’
Bannion’s jaw muscles tightened.
‘Okay, push the engines up to max and then cut them.’
Kronski eased open the power control. The hum of the engines grew louder. It went up in pitch. The gondola began to vibrate. Bannion waited for five long seconds.
‘Okay! Cut!’
Kronski shut the control and snapped off a number of switches. The panel lights went out.
‘That’s it. We’re drifting now. I sure hope they don’t spot us.’
Bannion scowled.
‘If they do, we’re dead.’
Kronski shook his head.
‘I don’t know why I ever agreed to come on this.’
Bannion’s lip curled.
‘You were offered a fortune, that’s why.’
They lapsed into silence. Suddenly the Wanderer grunted and sat up.
‘Where are we?’
Kronski looked at him in amazement.
‘You see that, the old fool’s been asleep. Are you sure this old fart’s a wayfinder?’
Bannion shrugged.
‘How the hell should I know, I got palmed off with him, same way as I got palmed off with you.’
‘I don’t have to take that.’
‘Will you keep your voice down? I don’t want to take chances with being detected.’
The Wanderer struggled to get a word in.
‘I was asking where we were.’
‘So?’
‘I’m supposed to be the wayfinder, so where the fuck are we?’
Kronski wrinkled his nose.
‘I thought wayfinders knew where they were.’
‘Alright, alright, jive with an old man, I’ll just get out.’
The Wanderer reached for the outside door of the gondola. Bannion grabbed him by the arm.
‘You just sit where you are. Right? And shut the fuck up. If they pick us up we’ll be blown to bits.’
The Wanderer grinned.
The moment of truth, hey, kiddies?’
Bannion twisted the old man’s arm a little.
‘You just shut your mouth, old man. You understand?’
The Wanderer leaned forward and nodded emphatically. Bannion let him go. There was a flash somewhere on the ground. Both Bannion’s and Kronski’s heads whipped round. An enemy rocket arced into the air. It left an orange and gold trail behind it. The warhead burst in an intense white flash some distance from them. The Wanderer glanced at Bannion.
‘You think that was directed at you people?’
Bannion’s control evaporated. He grabbed the Wanderer by the front of his smock.