Synaptic Manhunt (29 page)

‘You could get a custom job.’

The Wanderer shook his head.

‘You’d need specifications.’

The Minstrel Boy grinned pointedly at him.

‘We could get them.’

‘Detailed specs?’

We could get them, couldn’t we, old man?’ The Wanderer held up his hand and quickly shook his head.

‘No. No way. I’m not going to do it.’

The Minstrel Boy stared hard at him.

‘You’re going to have to, otherwise the lady’s going to butcher the lot of us.’

‘I don’t like it.’

‘You don’t have to like it. You just have to do it’

Billy looked from one to the other in bewilderment.

‘What are you two talking about?’

‘Getting us some more like Ho to deal with him.’

‘How do you do that?’

‘We get Stuff Central to do a custom job from our specifications.’

‘How do we get those?’

‘The old man can get them, can’t you, old man?’

The Wanderer didn’t answer. The Minstrel Boy moved closer to him.

‘You can, can’t you, old man?’

The Wanderer looked at the ground. He hesitated and then spoke reluctantly.

‘I can do it. I can form a mind link with Ho, and all the information can be fed out of my brain into the request console of the stuff receiver. Once the data’s in the pattern bank we can have as many replicas of Jeb Stuart Ho as we want. Only they’ll be programmed to do exactly what they’re told.’

A look of relief came over Billy’s face.

‘We’re out of trouble then?’

The Wanderer nodded wearily.

‘Yeah, we’re out of trouble.’

‘What’s wrong?’

The Minstrel Boy grinned nastily.

‘The old man’s not too keen on the mind link bit.’

The Wanderer growled at him.

‘Just get off my back, will you. I said I’d do it.

The Minstrel Boy didn’t stop.

‘The mind link doesn’t go away once it’s started. If Jeb Stuart Ho dies, the Wanderer will experience it too. It could hurt.’

The Wanderer grunted.

‘It will hurt.’

A.A. Catto interrupted any further discussion.

‘What are you all talking about?’

The Minstrel Boy turned to face her.

‘We’ve come up with the answer. We’ll need to use the stuff receiver. Have your men found it yet?’

‘They’ve located it.’

‘We might as well get on with it, then.’

A.A. Catto became suspicious.

‘Are you sure this isn’t some kind of trick?’

‘Of course it ain’t no trick.’

‘How can I be sure of that?’

The Minstrel Boy began to get exasperated.

‘You can’t be sure. You’ll have to trust us. It’s our lives that are on the line. You think we’re going to deliberately fuck up?’

‘I still don’t like it.’

‘You got a better idea?’

A.A. Catto’s face flushed dangerously.

‘Your manners aren’t all they could be.’

The Minstrel Boy had the sense to backpedal.

‘Okay, I’m sorry, but there’s no other way.’

A.A. Catto thought for a moment. She directed her attention to Billy.

‘Have you still got your gun?’

Billy looked round nervously.

‘Yeah … I’ve got it.’

‘Give it to me.’

Billy hesitated. A.A. Catto held out her hand.

‘Give it to me.’

Reluctantly Billy handed it over. A.A. Catto checked that it was loaded, and then pointed it at the four of them.

‘I’ll take you to the receiver room and you can start work. I’ll be watching you all the time. If I see anything I don’t like, I’ll shoot. You understand?’

The Minstrel Boy nodded.

‘We understand.’

A.A. Catto descended from the late Joachim’s throne and led them through a small door at the side of the hall. It was like stepping into another age. The room was filled with gleaming technology. The Minstrel Boy gazed round with what almost amounted to awe.

‘Goddamn! Civilization. I thought I’d never see it again.’

The Wanderer went sullenly to the control console.

‘Let’s get to it.’

The Minstrel Boy immediately assumed control. He took off his coat and tossed it in a corner.

‘First thing we got to do is deactivate the globes,’

The Wanderer sat down in the chair in front of he console. He searched the board for the unit that controlled the globes.

‘Got it.’

‘Can you ground them?’

‘I think so.’

The Wanderer punched a sequence of buttons. A number of coloured lights went out.

‘The globes are dead.’

A.A. Catto stood in the doorway, covering them with the gun. The Minstrel Boy moved up beside the Wanderer, partly to get a better view and partly to put as much of the old man as he could between himself and A.A. Catto. When it came to his own safety, the Minstrel Boy had no scruples.

‘The next thing we have to do is to order up a direct data helmet.’

The Wanderer inspected the board.

‘That won’t be so easy. There’s a selector block hooked into this rig.’

‘Can you switch it off?’

The Wanderer shook his head.

‘Negative. There’s a lock on it.’

‘I’ll have to short it out.’

The Minstrel Boy pulled out one of his knives, and squatted on the floor. He prised open one of the inspection panels in the front of the console. He was just about to put his hand inside when A.A. Catto took a step forward.

‘What are you doing?’

The Minstrel Boy found himself looking down the barrel of her gun. He straightened up.

‘There’s a block on the controls that stops anyone ordering things that didn’t fit in with Joachim’s and Alamada’s ideas of the simple life. If we want anything but nuts, berries and new horsemen, I have to fix some kind of bypass. Okay? Can I go on with what I’m doing?’

A.A. Catto still looked doubtful.

‘Are you sure you know what you are doing?’

The Minstrel Boy became impatient.

‘Listen, lady, I’ve been hot-wiring receivers since I was a little kid. Just let me get on with it.’

A. A, Catto backed away, and the Minstrel Boy crawled half inside the console. After a couple of minutes he emerged grinning.

‘That should do it. Order up that helmet.’

The Wanderer stabbed at the buttons. Rows of lights flickered into life. There was a faint hum from the cage that actually received the ordered goods. After about a minute, the cage flickered briefly with cold light and a white plastic hemisphere appeared. A number of coiled leads were attached to it, and an instruction booklet lay beside it on the floor of the cage. Billy reached in and lifted it out. A.A. Catto looked at the helmet questioningly.

‘What is that thing?’

‘It’s a direct data helmet. It’s a device that enables the old man to relay the specifications on Ho without having to verbalize them and then translate them into a selection sequence.’

He fitted the helmet on to the Wanderer’s head, although he left the leads unattached and dangling. He slapped the old man on the shoulder.

‘Okay buddy. Find our man.’

The Wanderer sighed and shut his eyes. The Minstrel Boy motioned to Billy and Reave.

‘You two better hold his arms down on the chair. He’s liable to thrash about a bit while he’s making contact.’

Billy and Reave did as they were instructed. The Wanderer began to twitch slightly, and sweat stood out on his forehead. The twitching gradually built up until his body was racked by violent convulsive jerks. Billy and Reave had to use all their strength to hold him down. Suddenly his muscles seemed to lock in one huge spasm. His back arched and sweat poured down his face. Then it passed. The Wanderer collapsed back in the chair. His mouth opened and closed. He licked his lips.

‘I’ve got him.’

His voice was a strained croak. The Minstrel Boy grabbed the ends of the helmet leads and banged them into input sockets on the control board.

‘Feed the data, old man.’

The lights on the console began to blink rapidly.

The Minstrel Boy picked up his coat.

‘We should have something down the beam quite soon.’

Billy and Reave stepped away from the Wanderer. He was quite passive now. Billy glanced at the Minstrel Boy.

‘Won’t Ho notice the mind link?’

The Minstrel Boy shook his head.

‘He’ll probably feel a bit strange, but the odds are that he won’t realize what’s happening.’

‘How long do we have to wait before the first of the replicas comes through?’

‘Shouldn’t take Stuff Central more than a few minutes to tailor up the first one.’

The Minstrel Boy removed the helmet from the Wanderer. The old man seemed totally drained. If it hadn’t been for his shallow breathing, Billy would have assumed he was dead.

They waited. The waiting was almost intolerable. Billy was constantly aware of A.A. Catto standing in the doorway holding the gun. He wondered if she’d keep her bargain and let them live once she had what she wanted. She was just as likely to kill them all.

For a while it seemed as though nothing was going to happen, then the cage glowed and Jeb Stuart Ho materialized inside it. The likeness was so complete that Billy and Reave started to back away. A.A. Catto raised her gun. Only the Minstrel Boy held his ground. He turned to A.A. Catto and laughed.

‘Come and talk to your new subject.’

He turned to the Ho replica.

‘Are you willing to accept our orders?’

The Ho replica bowed.

‘Of course. That is my programming.’

‘There you are, Miss Catto. He’s all yours.’

The Minstrel Boy moved to the console.

‘How many of these do you want to start with?’

‘Six should be enough. But leave the selection set up. I will certainly want more.’

The Minstrel Boy punched more buttons, and more Ho replicas began to arrive down the stuff beam in quick succession. Billy noticed that they carried all Jeb Stuart Ho’s equipment including the pistol and porta-pac. A.A. Catto was like a child with a new toy. She ran her hands over the fabric of their black fighting suits.

‘They’re lovely.’

She seemed to have forgotten all about her threats to kill the four men. She moved from one Ho replica to the next with an expression of delight. While her attention was diverted, the Wanderer opened his eyes, and rose slowly from the chair. He moved silently towards the door and quickly slipped away. A.A. Catto didn’t seem to notice his absence. She beamed at the six Ho replicas.

‘All we have to do now is send them after the assassin. He doesn’t have a chance against six exact copies of himself.’

Jeb Stuart Ho slowly rose from his crouching position on the hillside above the ziggurat. For a while a strange sickness had gripped him, but it seemed to have passed. It disturbed him in so far as he could find no logical reason for it. He flexed his cramped muscles. He had wasted enough time. He must start for the ziggurat and complete his task. He could see no way apart from going directly to the ziggurat, finding A.A. Catto and killing her. There was no room for subtleties.

It was dark, and therefore the approach to the ziggurat would be comparatively simple. Once inside, his main problem would be to avoid the horsemen. He knew that they wouldn’t be able to stop him, but if he was forced to fight with a number of them, he could be delayed for long enough to give A.A. Catto time to flee. That was what had happened in Litz, and he didn’t intend it to happen here.

He started down the slope towards the black building. He moved slowly and carefully, making no sound. He stopped every now and then to listen for the noise of any patrol that might be moving around. He had only gone about halfway when he saw lights emerge from one of the ground-level entrances and start to move up the hillside. Jeb Stuart Ho sank down on to the grass and watched them come towards him. After a while, he could make out details. There were six men, in form-fitting black suits. They carried burning torches and appeared to be searching the ground for something.

Jeb Stuart Ho held his position and let the six men come nearer. As he was able to see them more clearly he could scarcely believe his eyes. In front of him were six of his brother executives in black fighting suits and carrying full equipment. He couldn’t understand how they had arrived in Quahal, or how they had managed to keep the guns and porta-pacs that hung from their belts. They were a mysterious but welcome sight. Seven of the brotherhood would have no trouble dispatching A.A. Catto. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, and then stood up.

‘My brothers?’

The torches were instantly extinguished. Jeb Stuart Ho was surprised. It wasn’t the reaction he had expected.

‘My brothers. It is Jeb Stuart Ho.’

There was silence, then a whisper floated across the hillside. It was very clear.

‘That is him. That is the subject.’

A shot rang out, and a bullet hummed close to Jeb Stuart Ho. Someone had obviously fired in the direction of the sound of his voice. He started backing away. His mind whirled. He couldn’t understand it. Who were these people? Could A.A. Catto have enlisted the aid of some kind of renegades from the brotherhood? Did such people exist? In the dim skyshine he could see the six figures fanning out and moving up towards him. He quickly retreated.

The sky over the mountain was growing lighter, as though an artificial moon was about to rise. Jeb Stuart Ho knew that if that happened he would present an easy target. He knew that if these men had similar fighting skills to his, he couldn’t survive a direct confrontation.

The mist seemed to be his best bet. Once inside its concealing folds he could evade these hunters, or even, if he was lucky, pick them off one by one in sneak attacks. He turned on his heel and started to run. Another shot buzzed over his head. He fell into the unique pattern of yogic running that had been perfected by the teachers of the brotherhood. It enabled him to move at speeds far in excess of anything ordinary untrained humans were capable of.

A thin crescent of moon edged over the mountain. Jeb Stuart Ho glanced back as he ran. The pursuers were behind him, but they seemed to be keeping pace. They obviously had the same training. He reached the edge of the layer of mist and plunged into it. He saw an outcrop of rocks and ran towards them. It seemed an ideal vantage point to watch for the arrival of his hunters. He threw himself down behind the rocks, controlled his breathing, and lay still. He watched and waited.