‘You think they have day and night here?’
Reave grunted.
‘The time I’ve been paddling, it sure don’t feel like it. You want to take a turn?’
They changed places, and Billy dug in with the paddle. Reave dipped his hand into the water.
‘I wonder if you can drink this stuff.’
He licked his fingers.
‘Tastes okay. It don’t seem like we’re going to die of thirst. I tell you one thing though, I’m going to be well hungry pretty soon. I sure wish Burt the Medicine was here to bring out one of his meals.’
Billy slammed the paddle into the water with unnecessary force.
‘Burt the Medicine’s dead.’
There was a tense silence, and Reave fidgeted awkwardly.
‘You still mad because we made you come away from Dropville?’
Billy shook his head.
‘I ain’t mad, but I don’t really want to talk about it.’
From then on he paddled in silence, avoiding Reave’s occasional glances. Then Reave crouched forward in the bow.
‘Hey, Billy. There’s something out there.’
Billy shaded his eyes and stared where Reave pointed.
‘There’s something out there all right. You still got your gun?’
Reave nodded.
‘Sure. You?’
‘Yeah.’
They paddled towards the object bobbing on the surface. Reave looked back at Billy.
‘You know, from here, it looks like a couple of people swimming.’
‘Maybe it’s the Minstrel Boy?’
‘It definitely looks like two, I’d say … Holy shit!’
An impossible sight was rising out of the water. Two women, both identical, carrying a third in their arms. They wore white ankle-length cloaks, and silver helmets that covered most of their faces. Even the folds of their garments seemed to hang in exactly the same way. They pulsed with a faint blue light, and Billy wondered if the pulse was real or a flashback to the previous night’s drugs. Reave backed down the canoe and crouched beside Billy with his gun drawn.
‘What is it?’
‘I’ve no idea. Let’s just go on and see what happens.’
Billy steered the canoe so it passed within four or five yards of the figures. The strange beings stood motionless, and then slowly turned their heads in perfect unison. Then Billy and Reave were past them, Billy rested the paddle and stared back at the unique thing that floated above the surface of the water. Billy felt an unreasoning blanket of sadness wrap around him. Reave crawled down the canoe and crouched beside him.
‘Gosh.’
Billy looked at Reave strangely, but said nothing. The heads turned back to where they had been looking previously. It seemed that Billy and Reave held no more interest. The figures began to move. They were like a rigid statue that drifted forward across the lake, gradually gathering speed. The composite entity began to grow smaller and smaller, and soon Billy and Reave could no longer make it out at all. Billy turned to look at Reave.
‘What made you suddenly say “gosh” just now?’
Reave frowned.
‘I don’t know. My personality just seemed to slip for a moment. It’s back again now.’
***
A.A. Catto returned to her own apartment, bruised and aching. The door responded to her voice and she went straight through into her bedroom and threw herself down on the bed. Damn her oily cunning little brother and his tricks. The whipping was a novelty, but it certainly wasn’t worth the pain involved.
She slipped out of her white dress and looked up at the mirror ceiling. Her back and buttocks were crisscrossed by angry red weals. Curse Valdo, the little worm. She reached the bedside console and punched up Information. A blond Hostess-1 appeared on the screen.
‘May I help you?’
‘Get me a Medic.’
‘I’ll put you through, Miss Catto.’
‘Don’t put me through. Just get me one.’
‘What seems to be the trouble, Miss Catto?’
‘I’ve been whipped. By my brother. I suppose you could say the problem was bruising.’
‘I’ll have a Medic-1 with you straight away. Will there be anything else, Miss Catto?’
‘Yes, just one thing. If any word of this should leak out, I’ll see that you’re broken to L-4 before you know it.’
‘Your privacy is guaranteed, Miss Catto.’
A.A. Catto grunted and cut the connection. Within minutes, the door buzzer sounded and she pushed the entry button to admit a Medic-1 and a pair of Hostess-2s. She lay on her stomach while the Medic-1 inspected the damage to her back. The Medic had the white covers and the middle-aged, competent features that were the hallmark of his class. He shot four hundred mics of analgethene straight into A.A. Catto’s spine and the discomfort rapidly faded. The Medic ran a dispersed Gamma beam over her bruised flesh and the red weals started to fade. A.A. Catto found the treatment pleasant and stimulating. After some time the Medic straightened up, and put his equipment back into the carrying case.
‘You will make a perfect recovery, Miss Catto.’
‘Good. You’d better not say a word about this.’
The Medic placed a pompous hand on his heart.
‘Discretion is something sacred to this class.’
‘Yes, yes. You’re dismissed, you can go.’
The Medic and his two blond assistants departed. The console buzzed at her. A. A. Catto pushed the answer button, and Valdo’s face appeared on the screen.
‘I thought I’d call and see how you were, sister.’
A.A. Catto’s eyes flashed.
‘Haven’t you done enough for one day?’
‘You really are a bad loser. So angry, just because you lost one little bet.’
A.A. Catto snarled at her brother and cut the connection. The console buzzed again, but she ignored it. The last person she wanted to talk to was her wretched brother. She rolled on her back, and stared at her reflection on the ceiling. Her body was really far too beautiful for nasty little Valdo. She resolved that she would have nothing more to do with him, for a while, at least.
A.A. Catto began to get bored with even her own reflection. It was still only mid afternoon and after the painkillers and stimulants she had been consuming, it seemed a pity to waste them all. She stretched out a languid hand to the console and punched up the Steward service. A bronzed young man with short-cropped blond hair and pale blue covers answered.
‘May I help you?’
‘Can you send me a Steward straight away.’
‘What service do you require, Miss Catto?’
A.A. Catto giggled,
‘Personal, of course.’
‘Do you have any preference to the type of Steward?’
‘I’d like you to run up a special for me.’
‘Full gene surgery will take a few days, Miss Catto.’
‘Gene surgery won’t be necessary. A plastic temporary job will do.’
‘A plastic reconstruction will take about fifteen minutes.’
A.A. Catto thought she detected a hint of sullenness in the man’s voice. She looked sharply at the screen.
‘You Stewards don’t like plastic temp jobs, do you?’
‘Our preferences are not relevant. We are designed to serve.’
‘Afterwards though, it can be very painful when it grows out, can’t it?’
‘There are after effects for the individual Steward, but those should not concern you, Miss Catto.’
A.A. Catto smiled a particularly nasty smile.
‘That’s right, it doesn’t concern me at all. I want you to look up records. There was once a movie actor called Valentino. Rudolph Valentino. I want you to prepare a special using those old films and pictures. I want a Steward sent up that looks like Valentino.’