Synaptic Manhunt (25 page)

It seemed an immense distance to the dais. He finally reached it. A.A. Catto lay with her eyes closed. He stood looking down at her for a while. Her eyes opened. Her voice was a vibrant purr.

‘Kneel down, Billy.’

Billy pressed his lips together and dropped awkwardly to his knees.

‘Now pay me my dues as queen, Billy.’

Billy closed his eyes and slowly lowered his mouth to A.A. Catto’s damp and somewhat swollen cunt. A.A. Catto smiled happily.

‘I’m sure you’re going to be a very respectful subject.’

‘I suppose I could stand this for a while.’

The Minstrel Boy sprawled in his chair, staring at the light reflected in his glass of wine. He was feeling comfortable for the first time since he’d been abducted from the Albert Speer Hotel. The Wanderer sat across the table from him grinning.

‘You’re going to have to stand it until you find some way out of here.’

The Minstrel Boy nodded ruefully.

‘I know that. I was trying to forget it.’

The yellow-robed priests had led the three travellers to a suite of rooms deep inside the ziggurat, and left them there to wait until the blessed Joachim felt like seeing them. They hadn’t locked the door, but the three were effectively prisoners. They all knew that it would be impossible to find their way out through the maze of stairs and corridors that made up the interior of the huge building.

The suite consisted of a fairly large main room, and three small cells that led off it. It was plain but comfortable. The walls were smooth black stone, and the main room was furnished with a square table and four chairs. They were made of some light-coloured wood, decorated with geometric inlays. Each of the cells contained a narrow sleeping pallet. There were no windows in the place, but ample light was provided by a mass of candles in a roughly triangular-shaped fixture that hung from the ceiling.

Shortly after the priests had left, two of the blue-robed lower orders, who seemed to do most of the manual work, turned up with refreshments in the form of a bowl of fruit, a tray of flat biscuit-like pastries, a large jug of wine and glasses. They placed them on the table, and withdrew without a word.

Jeb Stuart Ho took to the place immediately. He ate a little fruit, drank half a glass of wine and withdrew to his cell to meditate, leaving the Minstrel Boy and the Wanderer to linger over the remainder of the jug. The Minstrel Boy drained his glass, and refilled it.

‘I’d like this place a whole lot better if there were a few chicks about.’

The Wanderer’s eyes twinkled in the candlelight.

‘You won’t find any here.’

‘Don’t I know it.’

‘You’ll maybe find a way to get round the problem.’

‘Huh?’

‘I said you might find a way to get round the problem.’

‘I heard what you said. I was just wondering what exactly you meant by it.’

The Wanderer grinned broadly.

‘I figure you’ll find out.’

The Minstrel Boy scowled.

‘You keep making remarks like that. You’re getting too goddamn mysterious.’

‘What other pleasures have I got left?’

The Minstrel Boy pushed the jug across the table towards him.

‘You could get drunk. It’d make you a bit more tolerable.’

The Wanderer refilled his glass.

‘I won’t argue with you. Did I ever tell you about the time I was down in Port Judas and met this sportin’ gal down on her luck?’

The Minstrel Boy shook his head.

‘No, but no doubt you’re going to.’

The Minstrel Boy went on drinking while the Wanderer launched into a long, ponderous and occasionally obscene story. It went on and on, and the Minstrel Boy quickly lost track of it. The Wanderer was just winding up for the punch line when there was a soft rapping on the door. The Minstrel Boy’s hand went instinctively to his knife belt.

‘What do you think that is?’

The rapping came again. The Wanderer shrugged.

‘All we can do is find out. I don’t think there’s any call for alarm.’

He raised his voice.

‘Come in.’

The door opened and three men came in. Men was a fairly loose description. They had the bald heads and general appearance of the boys in blue, but that was where the similarity ended. Their figures were slim, almost feminine and they moved with a strange exaggerated daintiness. They wore pink robes of what looked like watered silk, and their eyes were shadowed with some land of blue makeup. The Minstrel Boy suspected that their overlong eyelashes were probably false. When they spoke their voices were soft and high-pitched.

‘We are sent by the blessed one to ensure that all your needs are taken care of.’

The Wanderer raised an eyebrow.

‘We’re doing pretty good.’

‘We are sent to offer you any additional pleasure you might desire.’

The Minstrel Boy glanced up from his drink.

‘Desire?’

He looked carefully up and down each of the three in turn.

‘Just what kind of pleasure did you have in mind?’

The middle one of the three smiled sweetly.

‘Those joyful pleasures of the body bestowed and sanctified by the blessed one, that our flesh might celebrate his glory.’

The Minstrel Boy grinned.

‘Celebrate his glory, hey?’

‘We are at your disposal.’

The Wanderer shook his head.

‘You can leave me out. I’m too old for that sort of thing.’

The Minstrel Boy rose slowly from his chair.

‘I don’t see the harm in celebrating a bit of glory.’

The Wanderer laughed.

‘I thought it was a woman you were so desperate for?’

The Minstrel Boy patted the priest’s bottom.

‘Like you said, I’ll find a way round the problem.’

He turned to the pink-robed priest.

‘Does the blessed one sanctify an old-fashioned blow job?’

‘I’m not familiar with the term, but I’d be happy to accept your instruction.’

‘Good, good, let’s go off into my little room, and do some instructing. You might as well bring one of your buddies, seeing as how grandpappy here doesn’t want to know.’

He poured himself another glass of wine and led the two priests off to one of the empty cells. That left the Wanderer alone with the remaining one. The priest waved a slim white hand in the direction of Jeb Stuart Ho’s still figure.

‘Will your friend have any desire for my services?’

The Wanderer shook his head.

‘I doubt it. He’s too busy meditating, and besides, I think he swore off sex for the duration.’

The priest looked exaggeratedly sad.

‘That is a great pity.’

The Wanderer nodded sympathetically.

‘It sure is. Best you should run along back where you came from.’

The priest bowed, and left without a word. The sounds of revelry began to come from the Minstrel Boy’s cell. It seemed as though the priests were quick to pick up on the instruction. The Wanderer sighed and glanced through the open doorway. The pallet had become a mass of naked, entwined bodies. He sighed deeply and relaxed back in his chair.

Billy woke up with a start. He discovered that Nancy had been shaking him. He also discovered that he had a headache and an evil taste in his mouth.

‘What happened?’

‘You passed out.’

‘When?’

‘Last night, after the ceremony, you drank yourself stupid on the local poison and collapsed. We left you here.’

Billy focused his eyes, and looked around. He was still in the large room of the queen’s hut. It was deserted now. The fire had burned down to grey embers and the air was cold and damp. Billy struggled to sit up. Each time he moved he found new parts of him that hurt. ‘Where’s Reave?’

‘The two of you were given a hut down at the end of the village. He went there. You refused. You wanted to be buddies with the horsemen.’

‘What happened?’

‘They ignored you. You clowned about for a bit and passed out.’

Billy shook his head to clear it.

‘I don’t remember any of that.’

‘I’m not surprised, the amount you were drinking.’

Billy got painfully to his feet and staggered out to the scullery. He found a cask of water. A dipper hung drank a little, and sluiced more over his head. Nancy who was still standing in the big room.

‘Is it morning?’

‘Yeah.’

‘They have day and night here?’

‘Every day.’

Billy came back out of the scullery.

‘What’s A.A. Catto doing?’

‘She wants to see you.’

Billy grimaced.

‘Can’t she wait? I’m not up to coping with her yet.’

Nancy glanced meaningfully at him.

‘I wouldn’t keep her waiting.’

‘Why not?’

‘She is queen now.’

‘Shit! She’s only queen because I shot the last one.’

‘I wouldn’t remind her of that.’

‘Isn’t this getting a bit out of hand?’

Nancy began to look uncomfortable.

‘I’d keep my voice down if I were you.’

She gestured to the tapestry behind the throne.

‘She’s only just behind there.’

‘Are you trying to tell me something?’

‘I don’t know. She’s gone a bit funny, after getting to be queen, and the ceremony and all.’

‘It’s gone to her head?’

‘And some.’

Billy’s face became determined.

‘I’m going in there to sort out all this queen business.’

Nancy quickly put a hand on his arm.

‘Wait. Wait just a minute and listen to what I have to say, will you?’

‘Okay. You’ve got my undivided.’

Nancy hesitated, as though summoning up her courage.

‘We’ve never got on too well, have we?’

Billy shook his head.

‘No, not really.’

‘I feel bad talking to you like this, but there’s no one else.’

‘So talk.’

‘I’m worried.’

‘About A.A. Catto?’

‘She’s gone very strange.’

‘How?’

‘She had one of the horsemen in there all night. She was torturing him.’

‘So? She did that to Reave all the time.’

‘I think she probably killed him. She was right over the edge.

I mean, I’ve seen a few things. I don’t shock easy, but this started to do me in. I couldn’t take it.’

‘You were in there with her?’

Nancy looked at the floor.

‘Yeah.’

‘Helping her?’

‘With a couple more to keep me amused.’

‘Didn’t they object to what she was doing to their mate? They’re big strong lads.’

Nancy shook her head.

‘They can’t.’

‘Can’t?’

‘She can do what she likes with them. They’re programmed to do exactly what the queen wants. She could slaughter the lot of them. They wouldn’t stop her.’

Billy smiled grimly.

‘If she did that, she’d have no more to play with.’

‘She could send for another lot from the valley.

‘From the valley?’

‘I’ve found out a lot about this place. There’s a stuff receiver down in the valley, in the ziggurat, that big building we saw.’

Billy glanced over his shoulder at the entrance to A.A. Catto’s room. He lowered his voice.

‘Does she know this?’

Nancy nodded.

‘Sure, she told me.’

Billy’s face was very serious.

‘What else did you learn?’

‘Plenty. You know those helmets? They’re like a badge of rank, a pecking order. It starts from the ones sitting at the table, right down to the ones without helmets, servants to the rest.’

Billy nodded.

‘I kind of figured that.’

‘They change round once a month, the order or something.’

‘Once a month?’

‘Right.’

‘How the hell do they figure months?’

Nancy grinned, despite her concern.

‘They calculate it on the queen’s menstrual cycle.’

Billy laughed.

‘A.A. Catto’s going to confuse them. She doesn’t have any, according to Reave. She never allowed herself to reach puberty.’

‘She’s going to now. She doesn’t have any retarding drugs. She’s growing with a vengeance.’

Billy looked thoughtful.

‘I imagine that’s affecting her mind.’

‘Probably.’

‘I suppose she could always get more from the stuff receiver.’

‘That and a whole lot …’

Before Nancy could finish, there was a petulant shout from behind the tapestry.

‘Nancy!’

Nancy spun round, looking a little pale.

‘Yes!’

‘Have you woken up Billy yet?’

‘Yes!’

‘Then get him in here.’

Nancy looked urgently at Billy.

‘You’d better get in there. Don’t keep her waiting.’

Billy sighed and hurried across the room. He pulled back the tapestry and stepped through into the queen’s private lair. The sight of it was quite a surprise. Most of the floor space was taken up by the largest bed Billy had ever seen. It was piled high with cushions, pillows and rich furs. Two poles supported a tentlike overhead canopy. The walls were hung with mirrors and lavish embroideries. There were a number of chests and cupboards. The contents were scattered on the floor, as though A.A. Catto had been going through them in some kind of exploratory frenzy. There were candles everywhere, and a brazier of hot coals stood in an alcove, heating the room and filling the air with the heavy sweet smell of incense.

All this was much as Billy had expected. The real shock to his system waited for him in a clear space of floor opposite the bed. A thick heavy post, about half as tall again as a man, and carved into a stylized phallic shape, was set firmly in the stone flags. The horribly mutilated body of a man hung from it in chains. A helmeted guard stood beside him gripping his spear, like a statue, and staring straight ahead. A rack containing a comprehensive range of torture implements was on the wall nearby. Many of them had quite obviously been used very recently.

A.A. Catto was fully dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed. She wore a feminine version of the horsemen’s outfit, wide silk trousers bound up with thongs, a tunic of soft white fur and silver armour covering her arms. The clothes seemed to fit very well, considering the Alamadas had been much larger women. She gestured imperiously at Billy.

‘I want to talk to you.’