Overdrive (22 page)

“We should send a
few ships to pulverize this rock.”

“Yes my Prince,"
the nearby Nephillim dutifully chorused.

“Its a disgrace.”

“Yes my Prince.”

“Who wears these
idiotic clothes anyway?”

You do
, thought 10 Nephillim minds.

“I’m told,” said
one of his bolder Nephillim, “that these clothes were rather popular 1000 years
ago on Earth.”

“Yes, well, its
not 1000 years ago and we’re not on fucking Earth are we?”

“No my Prince.”

Asel lent closer
to his aide. “Are you sure the meeting is set for this morning?”

“Yes, my Prince.”

“Don’t you ever
say anything but, No my Prince, Yes my Prince.”

“Yes, my Prince.”

“Get out of my
sight.”

The aide, about to
open his mouth, thought better of it and moved hastily away.

Asel, barely
meeting Fever’s basic dress requirement, sauntered through customs. His
Nephillim followed at a polite distance. One of the braver or perhaps suicidal
customs officials, acting in his fully authorized role as a fashion policeman,
attempted to stop Asel, intending to arrest him. His colleagues, fearing the
worst, grabbed him and gave him a good kicking in the corner.

Once through
customs, Asel led his men to an AG capsule, directing it to take them to Studio
54.

He’d left some men
behind to incapacitate Tarquin’s ship in the unlikely event that he failed to
retrieve the Overdrive. In addition, some underworld contacts were to provide
Asel with all the weaponry he would possibly need. He was confident there would
be no mistakes this time.

◊

Walking arm in arm
and surrounded by competent looking Shepherds, Felix and Crystal made their way
towards the audience chamber of Ram Terry IV.

“Feeling better?,"
asked Crystal.

“Yeah. Momentary
loss of reason yesterday. Its just, well I thought that after the last few
years, I was going to offer the galaxy a gift devoid of all religious bullshit.
Its hard when all your beliefs come crashing down and you have to build them
from the ground up again.”

Crystal hugged his
arm reassuringly. “I know. And you are giving the galaxy a great gift. I
explained to you last night that the Shepherds and the Church of the Holy Lamb
are against the likes of the Areopagites. All we seek is a bit of balance and
some galactic harmony.”

“Spare me the
sermon.”

Crystal sighed
dramatically.

“Oh, all right.
I’ll try to be nice. But its the proof of the pudding and all that you know.
Besides, I’d like to think all my friends back at Nebula Inc didn’t get
incinerated trying to stop one religious group intent on galactic domination,
only to find another, not dissimilar group was our employer all along.”

“I think you’ll
change your mind when you meet Ram Terry IV. He’s very charismatic.”

“Have you met a
lot of charismatic sheep in your time?”

“A few, yes.”

“Have you ever,
you know…” He trailed off with a grin on his face.

Crystal hit him
playfully on the arm. “No of course not. Dickhead. Think you’re pretty funny
don’t you?”

“I’ve spent 28
years trying to become so.”

“Well, its not working. I think you should take lessons.”

“I bow to the
superior wisdom of the lady.” He performed a mock bow. “It will be a relief
when all this is over. Fancy a nice quiet holiday, just the two of us after
this? I don’t think these guys,” he said, indicating the robed protection squad
surrounding them, “would look too comfortable in swimwear.”

“Oh, I think you
could twist my arm.”

◊

The Shepherds idea
of keeping a low profile consisted of having the audience chamber of Ram Terry
IV located in the back of a Discotech. Felix and Crystal were escorted through
the crowded dance floor and shown into an antechamber guarded by two more Shepherds.

The chamber,
although fairly large, was sparsely furnished. Paintings of what Felix could
only assume were the previous Rams of the Church hung on the walls. All looked
to Felix’s untrained eye like healthy specimens of Ramhood. Only two plain couches
served any kind of seating requirement. One of them was filled with Logan and
Tarquin. Two female shepherds stood nearby, talking quietly. All four looked
worse for wear.

“Big night last
night?,” Felix enquired innocently.

 “You could say
that," said Logan.

“Details?”

“Well, me and the
Chocolate Avenger here hit a few dance floors with our lovely escorts. Our arms
got twisted and we ended up drinking a few too many beers.”

Felix gave Crystal
a surprised look. “You mean to say that the Holy Lamb allows you to get
absolutely bolloxed?”

Crystal shrugged.
“I’ll think you’ll find that as a religious organization, the Church of the
Holy Lamb is quite tolerant.”

“Well, that
doesn’t sound too bad. Don’t get excited though. I’m not thinking of becoming a
convert or anything.”

“Don’t worry,”
said Crystal. “I’m not about to get excited.”

“Anyone seen
Walter or the two mercenaries?” asked Tarquin.

Felix shook his
head. “I thought they were with you?”

“Nope. We left
them after we had our chat with the Grand Shepherd.”

“Speaking of
which.” Crystal nudged Felix in the ribs.

A door on the far
side of the antechamber opened to admit the Grand Shepherd. He was followed
closely by two stout and wary looking Shepherds.

“Ram Terry IV will
see you know," he said, smiling at the group. Mattock turned and gestured
for them to go through.

The four of them
entered to find themselves in an audience chamber. This chamber was no more
ornate and about the same size as the antechamber. More paintings covered the
walls. The overwhelming theme seemed to be scenes from happy farm life. The
frolicking sheep appeared to be smiling. Even the farm dogs, featured in most
of the paintings, seemed to be happy. Unconvincing, thought Felix, considering
it looked like their charges were making a run for it.

The only
concession to comfort was the addition of a green carpet on the floor and a
thick tapestry covering the far wall. A low dais filled the far end of the
chamber.

The Grand Shepherd
sidled up to Crystal and whispered in her ear. He disappeared to one side and
had a hurried conference with his two assistants.

Felix lent over.
“What was that about?”

Crystal looked
straight ahead and talked out of the corner of her mouth.

“Walter and the
Transplanters got into a bit of trouble last night. Seems that Walter got a
little bit drunk and abused the bouncers who wouldn’t let him in to a disco. Derek and Bruce settled the matter by head butting the bouncers. All three were arrested and
thrown into a detention cell for the night. The Grand Shepherd is getting them
released.”

“Well, well,” said
Felix smiling. “Didn’t know Walter had it in him.”

The Shepherds in
the room, including the Grand Shepherd, suddenly assumed quiet and humble
postures. Crystal nudged Felix again. “Here he comes."

The tapestry was
moved aside revealing a door. It opened, admitting four Shepherds carrying a
palanquin. They set it down on the dais and stood respectively to one side.

A large Ram with
curling horns and dressed in a green jacket hopped out, leaped off the dais and
trotted towards the group.

“Sorry," he
said, addressing the no one in particular. “Not one for ceremony. The boys here
would rather have me on the dais but I reckon that’s a bit wanky.”

Ram Terry IV
looked at Crystal. “Crystal. I’ve missed you. How’s my favorite girl?”

“All the better
for seeing you.” She bent down and gave the Ram a hug, ignoring the frown she
received from the Grand Shepherd.

“Likewise."

He turned his
attention to Felix. “And this must be the man I’ve heard so much about.”

Felix inclined his
head. “Crystal speaks very highly of you.”

“Surprisingly.
She’s known me since I was a wee lamb. Don’t know how she put up with me. I was
a bit, shall we say, rambuchous.”

“I’d almost say
pain in the arse, your Holiness,” said a smiling Crystal.

Ram Terry showed
his teeth in what Felix assumed was a smile. “That too. But I digress. I must
thank you Felix, not just from me but from all our people and others who have
been oppressed by those winged fiends. I know you have suffered a lot and we’ll
try to make it up to you.”

Felix nodded. The
Ram turned his attention to Logan and Tarquin. “I am also in your debt. If
there is anything you desire within reason, it shall be yours.”

Both men bowed
their heads slightly and chorused. “Thank you, your Holiness.”

His Holiness
trotted over to the Grand Shepherd and engaged him in conversation.

Surprised at his
friends, Felix raised his eyebrows in their direction.

Tarquin shrugged
apologetically. “The girls showed us the correct response last night.”

“I’ll bet that’s
not all they showed you.”

Logan grinned
lecherously.

Two Shepherds left
the room, returning shortly afterwards carrying a long metallic device between
them which they set down on the floor. With a shock, Felix realized it was the
Overdrive. It was something he thought he’d never see again.

His conversation
with the Grand Shepherd complete, Ram Terry moved over to address the group
again.

“As you can see,
with the specs you sent us, we have built our own Overdrive. This is Mark II.
The first one inexplicably melted down after its first test run.”

“Ah," said
Felix, moving over to examine the fruit of 3 years of labor. He ran his hand
over the Overdrive in what was almost a caress.

“We never got a
chance to send you the modifications," said Felix. “Our first prototype
melted as well. Took us a couple of weeks of adjustments to iron out all the
bugs. Shouldn’t take me too long, just need a few tools.”

The Grand Shepherd
beckoned to one of his men who ran out of the room. 

A thought occurred
to Felix. “How do I know," he said turning towards Ram Terry, “that you
are the legitimate owners of Nebula Inc and the Overdrive?”

His AI reported
the receipt of a data package. Opening it he found it contained the necessary
documents confirming Novelle New Zealand’s ownership of Nebula Inc. There were
also numerous articles and reports on Ram Terry and the Church of the Holy
Lamb. Felix didn’t bother opening those.

“Satisfied?,"
asked the Grand Shepherd.”

“Yeah,” he said
slowly. “That should do it.”  He sent the relevant Overdrive files to Ram
Terry.

The Shepherd
returned carrying an armload of tools which he dropped at Felix’s feet. Felix,
obviously as happy as a voyeur in a live sex show, began to tinker with the
Overdrive. The Shepherd, watching closely, noted the modifications made.

Grand Shepherd
Mattock walked over to Logan and Tarquin. “You’ll be happy to know that we’ve
facilitated the release of your friends. They should be joining us shortly.”

“Cheers,"
said Tarquin.

“Well,” said
Logan, casting an appraising glance at the two female Shepherds, “if our work is done here, I think a bit more R & R could be in order.” He turned to Tarquin. “Fancy
a drink?”

“Yep.”

“Anyone else.
Ladies? Your Holiness?”

Ram Terry decided
to pass. The relief was evident on the face of the Grand Shepherd.

Shannon and
Heather, the two Shepherds who Logan and Tarquin had gone out with the previous
night, decided to accompany them. Logan noticed the two woman glance at the
Grand Shepherd first, receiving an approving nod before assenting. Crystal said
she’d stay with Felix until he’d finished and catch up with them later.

“Where shall we go
then?” asked Tarquin.

“Check the local
net for a list of bars," suggested Crystal.

There was a pause
as Tarquin communicated with his AI. “That’s odd," said Tarquin.

Logan’s eyebrows
rose. “What is?”

“My AI can’t get a
net access.”

Logan tried with
the same result. “Can anyone else access Fever’s net?”

All the Shepherds,
including Crystal, answered in the negative.

“What are the
chances of a complete net failure?," asked Logan.

Crystal looked
concerned. “Nil. It hasn’t happened in over 500 years, especially in an
asteroid of this size with multiple redundancies.”

Logan turned to
Ram Terry. “Have you got any weapons here?”