Synaptic Manhunt (21 page)

Jeb Stuart Ho looked puzzled.

‘Why Quahal?’

The Wanderer became annoyed.

‘How should I know? That’s what they called it. Maybe they got it out of a book. I don’t know. You promised not to interrupt.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Okay. Don’t do it again. Right?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Okay. Well, Alamada and Joachim didn’t exactly want the same things. For a start, Joachim was gay and Alamada was a hetero sadist, so they didn’t quite see eye to eye. The long and short of it was that Joachim lived down in the valley doing a kind of Aztec number with a lot of specially bred young men. He was the high priest. He had a ziggurat, the whole number, all these lads worshipping him. He was happy as a pig in shit. He had them ritually sacrificed when they got too old, and kept them totally celibate except as far as he was concerned.’

The Wanderer looked at Jeb Stuart Ho.

‘Aren’t you guys from the brotherhood celibate?’

‘Only when it serves our purpose.’

The Wanderer looked dubious.

‘I never did see what purpose could be served by not screwing. Are you sure you ain’t the product of someone’s fantasy?’

‘I …’

‘Don’t answer. I’ll go on with the story. Obviously Alamada wasn’t going to go for Joachim’s set-up. She made herself a home up the mountain with a team of rough, horny, horse-riding tribesmen. She was their, I dunno, witch queen or something. They all balled her, and fought with each other and were generally rough and disagreeable, so she was happy too. The Stuff beam brought in all the things they needed, including replacement people, and everything was neat. Except for one thing. You know what that was?’

‘No.’

‘Joachim and Alamada weren’t immortal. They grew old and in the end they died. They even got round that, in a way, though.’

‘How?’

‘They had everything about them fed into the Stuff Central computer. When they passed away, these replacements showed up. They’ve showed up about every ten years ever since. In the case of Joachim it was a short ritual. The new Joachim would come out of the Stuff receiver, and the old one would straight away get sacrificed. In Alamada’s case it was a little rougher. The Stuff receiver was in the ziggurat, down in the valley. When a new Alamada arrived she’d climb the mountain and have to fight the old one. The winner would be queen. I figure that’s about it, as far as Quahal’s concerned.’

The Wanderer thought for a minute.

‘Oh yeah, one thing I forgot. The globes.’

‘The globes?’

‘Another of Alamada’s and Joachim’s little concessions to technology. They’re a kind of cybernetic watchdogs. They prowl the place. If anyone turns up out of the nothings they remove everything more advanced than a slingshot. If anyone resists they fuse him.’

He looked hard at Jeb Stuart Ho.

‘I suppose you’ll be of there?’

Jeb Stuart Ho nodded.

‘I should leave straight away.’

‘You could easily find that the lady you’re after has been offed by the current Alamada.’

‘I would have to go and make sure.’

The Wanderer grinned crookedly.

‘Duty?’

‘What else is there?’

The Wanderer shook his head.

‘Don’t ask me to tell you.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t worry about it.’

There was a pause. Jeb Stuart Ho and the Wanderer sat silent with the rigid Minstrel Boy between them. Then the Wanderer looked sideways at Jeb Stuart Ho.

‘You wouldn’t have any objection to me coming, along with you?’

‘To Quahal?’

‘Yeah. I’ve got nothing better to do, and I do know about the place.’

Jeb Stuart Ho became suspicious.

‘Why do you want to come? You didn’t make the place sound very pleasant.’

‘Like I said, I don’t have anything better to do. After all, you don’t think an old man like me can harm you in any way?’

Ho nodded doubtfully.

‘I don’t.’

The Wanderer grinned.

‘So I can ride with you?’

‘I suppose so.’

The Wanderer gestured at the Minstrel Boy.

‘We’d better get him out to the car then.’

Jeb Stuart Ho’s head jerked round.

‘How did you know we came in a ground car?’

The Wanderer grinned.

‘Like I said, I don’t miss very much.’

They pulled the Minstrel Boy to his feet, and headed for the door.

Billy woke up. He immediately wished that he hadn’t. He hurt all over. The slightest movement sent pain stabbing up from the back of his neck. He tried opening his eyes. Wherever he was, the light was dim. Billy was grateful for that. He was aware of something moving. Billy turned his head. He found himself looking at Reave.

‘Where are we?’

‘You’ve come round, then? We were beginning to think you’d gone and died.’

‘I wish I had.’

‘You feel bad?’

‘Bad? I feel like I’ve been beaten up about a dozen times. Where the hell are we?’

Reave rubbed his nose.

‘I ain’t really sure.’

Billy struggled into a sitting position. He looked around. He seemed to be in some kind of hut. The floor was bare earth and the wall was built from dry stone. There was a single circular wall that curved inwards in a kind of beehive shape to become an almost conical roof. In the centre of it was a small hole. It was the only source of light and ventilation. A heavy wooden door was the only exit from the hut. Billy moved painfully towards it, but Reave waved him away.

‘There’s no point in trying the door. It’s bolted on the outside.’

Billy sat down again. He noticed the hut was completely bare. There was no furniture, nothing. It was also very cold. He shivered and looked at Reave.

‘What in hell is this place?’

Reave shrugged.

‘Like I said, I ain’t really sure.’

Billy began to get impatient. It seemed as though Reave was being deliberately unhelpful.

‘What’s the matter with you?’

‘Nothing. I’m just frozen, starved, and I figure we’re liable to get killed any time now. I don’t see much to get enthusiastic about.’

Billy frowned, and ran his fingers through his hair.

‘What happened? The last thing I remember was being chased by those guys on horses.’

‘They caught us.’

‘Then what?’

‘They slung us over their saddles and rode up into the mist. You were out cold. It seemed like we rode for hours, all through that fog. Eventually we wound up here.’

‘What’s here?’

‘A village of some sort. Just a collection of beehive-shaped stone huts in the fog. I didn’t get too much of a chance to look at the place. They threw you and me in here, and that was it.’

‘You’ve been here ever since?’

‘Yeah.’

‘What happened to A.A. Catto and Nancy?’

‘The horsemen took them to some other part of the village.’

‘You figure they’re being raped?’

Reave shrugged.

‘Who can tell? I don’t think they are, somehow. The horsemen seemed to treat them with some kind of respect.’

Billy massaged his bruises.

‘Pity they didn’t give us some.’

Reave scowled, and said nothing. Billy sat thinking. After a while he looked up.

‘Do you reckon we could escape?’

Reave slapped the solid stone wall.

‘I don’t see how.’

‘Maybe when they come to feed us?’

Reave shook his head sourly.

‘They ain’t showed no sign of feeding us yet.’

Billy slumped back against the wall and thought again. Suddenly he sat bolt upright.

‘Hey!’

Reave looked up without too much interest.

‘What?’

Billy stuck a hand inside his jacket.

‘They left me with my gun.’

‘You’re kidding.’

‘No, look!’

Billy pulled it out. Reave looked at it in amazement.

‘Shit!’

‘How could they have missed it?’

Reave shook his head.

‘Beats me. They took my knife away.’

Billy looked at the gun thoughtfully.

‘Maybe they don’t know what it is. If those globes destroy all the technology that turns up here, those horsemen may never have seen a gun.’

Reave nodded.

‘You got a point there.’

‘It gives us a better chance of getting away.’

‘We’ll have to wait till someone comes and opens the door.’

‘When they do, we can blow them away.’

‘So all we have to do is wait.’

‘Right.’

They waited. They had no way of calculating the passing of time, but it seemed like a very long wait. A couple of times Billy became quite convinced that they had been locked up in the stone hut and forgotten. Eventually, however, there came the sound of someone pulling back the outside bolts. Billy tensed. He moved to beside the door. He flattened himself against the wall, tightly gripping the butt of the gun. The door opened. Billy raised his weapon. A figure stepped into the hut. Billy’s finger eased back on the trigger. Then he stopped. The figure was A.A. Catto. Nancy followed her into the hut, then two of the horsemen. Billy quickly stuffed the gun under his jacket. A.A. Catto turned, and saw him pressed against the wall.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’

Billy wiped a hand over his face.

‘Nothing.’

A.A. Catto raised an eyebrow, but made no remark. Reave scrambled to his feet.

‘Are you two all right?’

A.A. Catto nodded.

‘For the moment.’

Billy glanced at the two horsemen standing in the doorway of the hut.

‘Are we still prisoners?’

A.A. Catto examined her fingernails, and picked at one where the paintjob was chipped.

‘Not exactly.’

‘We can go?’

‘No, We can’t actually leave this place.’

‘What’s going on then?’

A.A. Catto avoided looking at Billy.

‘It’s sort of complicated.’

Billy pursed his lips.

‘I might have known it wouldn’t be simple. Are you going to tell us about it?’

A.A. Catto took a deep breath.

‘Well … it’s like this. There aren’t any women in this tribe. It’s all men.’

Billy looked amazed.

‘No women?’

‘Well, there is one. She’s sort of queen witch. The Alamada, they call her. It seems that the only other women who come here are challengers for her title. There’s a sort of ritual fight, and the one who wins gets to rule the place.’

Billy’s expression became even more incredulous.

‘You mean they thought you were a challenger?’

‘Yes.’

‘I suppose you put them straight about you not being a challenger, and how we all just came here by accident.’

‘Well … no.’

‘Why the hell not?’

‘I was worried that they might kill us.’

Billy slowly shook his head, as though to clear it.

‘You mean you’re going to go along with this fight?’

‘I can’t see any way out.’

‘I suppose you can take a dive as soon as is honourably possible. Then we can all leave?’

‘No.’

‘No?’

‘It’s a fight to the death.’

Billy’s jaw dropped.

‘To the death?’

‘To the death.’

‘You mean you’re risking getting killed to save the rest of us?’

A.A. Catto looked at him as though he was mad.

‘No, of course not. If I lose, they’ll kill you straight away. I told them that you were my personal slaves.’

‘Personal slaves?’

‘That’s right, so you’d better come up with an idea.’

Billy shook his head in disbelief.

‘What the hell have you got us into?’

A.A. Catto looked at him disdainfully.

‘I’m sure you’ll think of something.’

‘How long do we have before the fight?’

A.A. Catto avoided Billy’s eyes.

‘Not very long.’

She gestured towards the two horsemen.

‘These people have come to take us all to another hut. Then we have to prepare for the fight.’

The horsemen began to show signs of impatience. They motioned to A.A. Catto. She walked out of the hut. The others followed. The two horsemen led the four of them through the village. It was a cold, bleak place. A collection of grey stone beehive-shaped huts with thin trails of mist drifting between them. Billy noticed that behind the huts was a wooden fenced corral that contained a fairly large herd of all, mean-looking horses. At one end of the village was a hut much larger than any of the others. It was constructed from three of the dry stone beehive shapes run together. It had a tall timber roof. In front of it was a cleared space. At one side of the space was a fire pit lined with flat slabs of stone. At the moment it was only filled with smouldering embers, but it was obvious that it regularly held a huge fire.

At first Billy thought that the two horsemen were taking him to the big building, but at the last minute, they turned off and went towards a smaller one next to it.

During the walk through the village, Billy had a chance closely to examine the horsemen, The two who were acting as their escort were uncannily alike. Billy began to suspect that they might be clones or something similar. They had olive complexions, high cheekbones, prominent noses and deep-set dark eyes. They looked proud, savage and arrogant. The long, straight black hair was heavily greased, and scraped back and secured at the nape of the neck with an ornamental clasp. They wore tunics of heavy fur. Round their waists were wide studded belts. From them hung a wide-bladed knife, and a long thin two-handed sword. Their legs were covered in crude trousers of some coarse material, held together by thongs that criss-crossed from their sandalled feet to just above the knee. The arms were protected by a flexible armour made from small leaf-shaped metal plates that extended right down to the backs of their hands.

The hut they were taken to was much bigger than the one Billy and Reave had been locked up in. It was also a lot more comfortable. The stone walls were hung with roughly woven tapestries. There were rushes strewn on the floor. Warmth came from a small brazier and there were even a rough carved table, three stools and a straight-backed chair. A.A. Catto dropped into the chair, and looked up at Billy.

‘So, have you thought of something?’

Billy glanced round at the two horsemen who stood silently by the door.