Golgotha Run (28 page)

“You could put it like that, I suppose,” said Masterton. “The thing about that
is, who knows what the other guys were intending to do with it. I get the
feeling that they were actually intending to use it—which, whatever else it
would have done, would have almost certainly destroyed our world as a
mechanism for supporting human life.

“Our guys, on the other hand, just wanted it gone from here and now—and
that’s what was best for all concerned. That’s what they told me, anyway, and
I believe them.”

“And that would be because?” said Eddie.

“It’s hard to kid a kidder,” said Masterton, grinning.

“Or extremely easy,” said Eddie.

“There is that,” said Masterton. “I suppose. Anyhoo. What we were basically
doing was patching human synaptic tissue into the mechanisms of the Artefact.
The problem with that, of course, was that it was incompatible on any number
of levels. We needed the equivalent of a sub-operating system to make it work.
You know what a
memoplex
is?”

“A complex of memes,”said Eddie as the Loup dropped the info into his
conscious mind. “The bundle of memories that makes a person who he is.”

“Close enough. It was far more complicated than that, of course, but the
upshot is that we had to feed the Artefact what was basically the living heart
and soul of a human, everything that made them who he is and what he was as a human being. That was what we had you slated for, originally—“

“What?” said Eddie.

“That was going to be your function. What are you looking at me like that for?
There’s no point in lying to you about it. You’d have pretty much worked it
out yourself in time. And there’s nothing you can do about it, since we have
you firmly on the Leash.

“In any case, that was to be your function, but you fucked it up by going off
on your unscheduled little visit to the Mimsey World of Adventure. We never
got the chance to implant the processes to the point where they took hold.

“We set things up with the Brain Train, like I said, to give things a little
bit more extra time—we hoped that the combination of tension and
responsibility might have the Loup generating what we needed. In the end, of
course, it all came to shit. You were developing a number of marked
involutions, but nothing like to the extent that we needed. We had to tell
Trix to do the job instead of you. Bit of a pity, cause she was far more
valuable, as an operative, than you ever were or will be.”

“Just not quite valuable enough to keep alive,” Eddie said.

“Oh, she’s alive,” said Masterton. “I assume so, anyway. I’m sure she’s still
alive. In body at least. Have a look at this.”

He punched up a monitor display.

“Feed from GenTech microcams and the Arbitrary Base security system,” he
explained. “We’re going to have to wipe the lot before we’re done. See the
shadow-form falling from the Artefact? That’s Trix, what’s left of her.

“And then there’s you. Look at you transforming. We presume that the Artefact
itself had some hand in it, since I gather that at this point you were still
quite comprehensively Leashed.”

Eddie watched as the two shadow-forms of dead black pixels streaked for the
advancing NeoGen troops and, quite spectacularly, tore them apart.

“Jesus…” he breathed.

“Quite impressive,” said Masterton, “I’ll admit. Bit of a pity we have to wipe
the footage as part of the cover-up.

“And there go the last of the troops. Scratch one problem. Now look at what
the pair of you are doing now. Circling around each other, getting closer. Now
look at what you’re doing, and doing quite comprehensively, before our Trix
goes off to burst through the perimeter and scamper for the hills.”

Eddie stared at the monitor-footage disbelievingly. “Fuck…”

“Fuck,” said Masterton, “is almost certainly the proper word.”

“Why do I need another shot this soon?” Eddie asked. “It’s only been a few
hours since my last one.”

“The Leash is time-dependent,” said Masterton, “not cumulative. You now have
twelve hours before the Loup flips out. It’s only fair to give you as good a
chance as possible.”

“What?” said Eddie.

“We’re nearly wrapped up here. The Pentagon are flying in troops to take
command again, and it’ll be like nothing ever happened. Time we dusted off and
headed back to the Factory. There’s no room for your car, though—and that’s
quite an expensive piece of kit.”

“What, millions?” said Eddie.

“Don’t make me laugh,” said Masterton. “It’s far more expensive than that. We
want it back and back at the Factory, and you’re just the chump to do it.”

“What, out on the road alone?” said Eddie.

“Alone and with no back-up.” Masterton grinned. “You have twelve hours. Think
of it as a character-building exercise.”

After Eddie had stormed off in the direction of the Testostorossa, Laura
Palmer threw the hypodermic gun into the secure trash-pod that they would be
taking with them, for incineration, when the VTOL dusted off.

“He should have cottoned on long before now,” she said. “Do you think he’ll
ever work out that the Leash is purely psychosomatic? That it’s nothing more
than a saline solution?”

“Mm?” For a moment Masterton had been lost in thought.

Now he said, “I suppose so. Possibly, on the other hand, he already knows on
some deep level. He merely needs the excuse for us to keep on poking him.
Giving him some motivation and structure to his life.

“Then again, it’s just possible that he has some inkling of what’s
really
going on—that the Factions might be fighting out there in the stars, in
other worlds and times, but they’re also fighting on other levels here and
now. That thing that’s happening over there in Deseret, for example. He might
have some idea of his place in all that. What the Factions—not only ours but
the others too—plan for him to become.

“
Nuts to you, fucker,
” said the Testostorossa. “
Do you write? Do you
call? Nah, not you. You’re off giving blow-jobs to soldier boys while
bullets rain around me and nearly scratch my paintwork.
”

“Don’t start, all right?” said Eddie wearily. “Just don’t fucking start. I’ve
had a rough few days.”

“
Oh, you poor fucking dear,
” said the Testostorossa. “
Want me to suck
your fucking dick and make it all better?
”

“You know, it strikes me,” said Eddie, thoughtfully, “that someone who
continually goes on about people being fags must have it on their minds all
the time. Bit suspicious, if you ask me. Like, maybe they’re scared that they
really,
really
like boys, but they can’t find a way of admitting it, even to
themselves…”

“
What?
” said the Testostorossa.

The GenTech VTOL lumbered up into the air. A supercharged Testostorossa
crossed the Arbitrary Base perimeter and headed down the access track. Heading
south.

Somewhere quite close by, in the Nevada desert, something that had once been
Trix Desoto gestated her young.

It would be some months before anything would come of this. It would be some
while before the first one spoke.

The High Priest was gripping the dame like an iced tea on a hot summer’s day… “Don’t do it, mister,” I yelled over the rising cacophony… The sky turned the colour of week-old vomit and the gate opened… I fired off one, two, three shots but it was too late… He had come unto us… the Blood God had arrived to eat the Earth.

Dave Stone studied Fine Art and Visual Communication. After a spell in
advertising, he found that most of his energies were being transferred to the written word.
Scripting for computer games and comics led to writing full-length novels for
such well-known series as Judge Dredd and Doctor Who—work which he continues
to this day.