The Quest of the DNA Cowboys (16 page)

The five families of the hereditary directorate were all present in the circular, domed room. The Cattos, the Glicks, the Meltzers, the Mudstraps and the Ferics, each sitting in their own wedge-shaped section of the hall. The most senior of the families sat at the front, after which the seating was allocated, rank behind rank, in succeeding generations.

The young of Con-Lee were noticeable by their absence, and the oldsters mumbled together about irrelevant problems of fiscal logistics. On a rotating podium in the centre of the hall great-great-grandfather Dino, the senior Mudstrap, was taking his turn at chairing a meeting. Valdo and A.A. Catto took their seats with the maximum of noise and fuss.

When they were able to prolong the disturbance of their arrival no longer, the meeting resumed, and Bull Feric got to his feet and, in a long rambling dissertation, presented an esoteric motion for the restructuring of the Exec level grading system. After the first twenty minutes, Valdo nudged A.A. Catto.

‘Remember our agreement.’

A.A. Catto waved him away.

‘I know, I know. We haven’t even started yet.’

Bull Feric continued for another half hour and then abruptly sat down. Dino Mudstrap called a vote. A.A. Catto, who had understood nothing of the argument, looked at the yes and no buttons on the arm of her chair. Quite at random she pressed the no button. Dino Mudstrap studied the results as they were relayed to his podium, and announced the motion carried. A.A. Catto felt mildly pleased that she had instinctively disagreed with the majority of the oldsters.

Dino Mudstrap was swivelling his podium looking for the next motion. A.A. Catto jumped to her feet.

‘Mister Chairman.’

The podium came to a halt.

‘The Chair recognizes … ah …’

Dino Mudstrap consulted his seating plan.

‘… Miss A.A. Catto.’

A.A. Catto took a deep breath.

‘I propose the motion that the L-4 dwellings, and all the stasis territory beyond the perimeter walls of the citadel, be declared insanitary and firestormed forthwith.’

Dino Mudstrap’s bushy eyebrows shot up.

‘Firestormed, Miss Catto? For what reason?’

‘For no particular reason except that the destruction of the L-4s would provide an excellent diversion. It would be fun.’

‘Fun, Miss Catto?’

‘Fun, Mister Chairman.’

Dino Mudstrap stroked his bald head.

‘I see.’

He paused, and peered round the meeting.

‘Does anyone second this … ah … unusual motion?’

Valdo was on his feet.

‘I do, Mister Chairman.’

Again he consulted his seating plan.

‘The motion is seconded by Valdo Catto. Does any member care to speak against it?’

In the front rank of the Ferics, the ancient Melissa creaked to her feet.

‘It would seem, Mister Chairman, that the proposal to destroy, en masse, these potentially useful life forms would be in direct opposition to our long-established traditions of frugality and conservation.’

Melissa Feric had long been famous for her sentimentality,

‘I must therefore seriously warn this meeting against sanctioning any such action.’

She resumed her seat. The ever-practical Nolan Catto, A.A, Catto’s grandfather, was immediately on his feet.

‘While not sharing the venerable Miss Feric’s humanitarian considerations, I must also call on this meeting to reject the motion. You will all recall, no doubt, that in the case of the accidental firestorm that consumed the periphery of Akio-Tech, there was a period when the citadel itself was endangered.

A.A. Catto pouted.

‘They put it out in time.’

The chairman banged his gavel.

‘You are out of order, Miss Catto. Pray continue, sir.’

Nolan Catto glanced at his granddaughter.

‘While appreciating our young people’s need for spectacle, I do feel that such a drastic display would, to say the least, be foolhardy.’

The next to rise was Havard Glick. Heads turned to look at him. Havard Glick was notorious for his eccentric ideas.

‘It might have escaped Miss Catto’s knowledge that there are some who hold the belief that even the L-4s are possessed of human sensibilities, and the morality of their wholesale slaughter would be somewhat questionable.’

There was a ripple of laughter. The old man was obviously senile. Everyone knew that the L-4s were the descendants of rejects from Con-Lee DNA research and that Con-Lee could dispose of them in whatever way they pleased. Nobody else seemed eager to speak after Havard Glick, and the chairman returned to A.A. Catto.

‘Do you have anything else to say, Miss Catto?’

A.A. Catto jumped to her feet.

‘Indeed I do, Mister Chairman. My grandfather’s sentiments are typical of the decay that will one day destroy this citadel. Don’t firestorm the L-4s, he whimpers, it might endanger us. Leave these insanitary organisms to scuttle round the outside of our beautiful towers. My grandfather would have our citadel overrun by vermin rather than risk the purging flames.’

Her voice rose in high patriotism.

‘It is the voices of cowards and traitors that plead for this rabble. The five families created the L-4s to serve, and when they no longer serve, it is the duty of the five families to destroy them. The fire cannot harm a citadel. It didn’t at Akio-Tech and it won’t here. I say to you one more time, we must firestorm the L-4s.’

The chairman, who had appeared to doze off during A.A. Catto’s speech, opened his eyes.

‘I thought you said earlier that you wanted to firestorm the L-4s for fun.’

‘Yes, Mister Chairman. And because it’s my sacred duty.’

The chairman nodded.

‘Yes, I see.’

He looked round at the directorate.

‘Shall we vote?’

Nolan Catto was on his feet.

‘May I propose a compromise? It might be a very good idea to instruct the entertainment Execs to prepare video simulation of a firestorm. It might do a little to satisfy these young people’s need for spectacle.’

A.A. Catto dug her nails into her palms.

‘You patronizing bastard.’

The chairman glared at her.

‘Shall we vote? First for Miss Catto’s motion, and secondly for Mister Catto’s compromise. Vote on the first one, please.’

A.A. Catto stabbed at her yes button.

‘And now the second.’

She pressed the no button. The chairman consulted his results.

‘Miss Catto’s motion is rejected. Mister Catto’s compromise is carried.’

‘Damn you old fools.’

A.A. Catto stood up and stalked out of the boardroom. Valdo followed a little way behind. Outside in the corridor, Valdo caught hold of her wrist as she was about to step on to the moving walkway.

‘Have you forgotten our bargain, sister dear?’

‘Bargain?’

‘You promised to let me take you home and ill-treat you if I found this meeting loathsome and boring.’

‘Did I agree to that?’

‘Indeed you did.’

‘But surely you didn’t take me seriously?’

‘I must admit, sister, that I took it very seriously. So seriously that I filed a tape of our conversation with Audit-12, the steward of wagers. He found it perfectly acceptable.’

‘You little beast.’

‘I thought I should get some fun out of what promised to be a very boring morning.’

A.A. Catto glared at her brother.

‘I positively forbid you to lay a hand on me.’

‘I was going to use a whip. I have one that would be eminently suitable.’

‘I won’t let you.’

Valdo smiled at her. He looked like a vulture.

‘You’ll have to.’

‘Why?’

‘Because otherwise Audit will compel you to under the term of a family wager.’

‘Let them try.’

‘If they make you, it’ll be in public.’

‘Public?’

‘Delinquent wagers are always collected in front of vid-cameras. It goes out like on channel 79. I’m sure all our friends will watch, and of course, the tape will be available in the library.’

‘You’re an unpleasant little weasel,’

Valdo beamed.

‘It runs in the family. Are you ready to come?’

A.A. Catto pursed her lips.

‘Yes, I suppose so.’

Valdo helped her on to the walkway.

‘I think the hour will be sufficient.’

Like Burt the Medicine predicted, it took less than two days to cross the desert. It gave way to rolling grasslands, and the track that Billy and Reave had been following became a surfaced highway. Then other roads connected with it, and soon Billy and Reave were driving through tidy, cultivated farms. They passed other traffic on the road, square, upright, boxlike vehicles painted black or brown and driven by noisy impulse motors. The people inside looked sombre, dour folk. They dressed in black or grey and stared in amazement at Billy’s and Reave’s flamboyant buggy.

They passed more and more of the sedate, austere cars. The farms became increasingly built on, and then they passed a sign that read:

Port Judas Welcomes the Clean Living.

Reave grinned at Billy.

‘Think we qualify?’

Billy grinned back.

‘I don’t know about you, man.’

They drove into the town, past rows and rows of small stone houses with white picket fences and neat little gardens. Billy grimaced.

‘It doesn’t look too much like fun city.’

Reave shrugged.

‘Maybe this is just the suburbs.’

‘Maybe.’

The gardens disappeared and they found themselves in an area of high walls and grey stone factories. Then the road swung round a corner, and out into a square. The square was surrounded by all kinds of imposing municipal buildings. They were built from the same grey stone, but had been dignified by the addition of pillars and broad steps. On the pavements, serious people in black and grey went soberly about their business. In the centre of the square was a bronze statue of a sour, elderly gentleman in the same long scholastic robe worn by most of the male inhabitants. He clutched a book under one arm, and held the other poised as though about to shake an admonishing finger. The whole place had an air of unshakable piety.

Reave swung the buggy into the kerb and looked around.

‘Don’t say this is downtown Port Judas.’

The albino had included a box of cigars in the hamper of goodies. Billy lit one and inhaled.

‘It looks like a good place to catch a boat away from.’

A man in a blue coat with brass buttons and a peaked cap was staring intently at Billy and Reave from the other side of the square. Billy glanced at Reave.

‘He’s got to be the law around here. He’s a cop if ever I saw one.’

‘Don’t look now but he’s coming over.’

The figure was sauntering across the square, fingering the stick that hung from his belt. He had the unmistakable unconcerned walk of cops in every place, every age.

‘We can’t have broken a law already.’

‘You never can tell.’

‘Shall we do a runner?’

‘No. Hang on and see what he wants.’

As the figure came closer Billy and Reave could see that his cap bore the legend ‘Port Judas Bureau of Correction’. He halted beside the buggy and jerked the finger of his white gloved hand at Billy.

‘Thou!’

‘Me?’

‘Yea, thou. What thinkest thou, parking in the main square?’

Billy smiled politely.

‘Sorry officer. We just drove in from the desert.’

‘Thou makest for the harbour?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Then make. Outlanders have their own quarter by the waterfront. Thinkest thou the good people of Port Judas suffer them to run all over the whole city?’

‘Well, no. We just didn’t know.’

‘Ignorance is no excuse.’

‘We’re really sorry.’

‘I think maybe I should book thee for vagrant wandering.’

‘We won’t do it again.’

‘Thirty days in the workhouse would ensure thou didst not do it again.’

‘Listen officer. We’re new in town. Give us a break.’

Billy gestured pleadingly with his cigar. The officer looked at it in disgust.

‘Put out that vile weed. Thou transgressed City Ordinance 417.’

‘Huh?’

‘Thou shall not partake of the weed tobacco in a public place. Penalty sixty days in the city workhouse. That’s ninety days thou couldst pull already.’

Billy ground out the cigar with his boot.

‘Listen …’

‘I think I shall overlook thy offences this one time. Hurry thyself to the outlanders’ quarter and we’ll say no more. I promise thee, though, if I see thy face …’

He glanced at Reave.

‘… or thy face either, around here again, I’ll book thee for sure. Understandeth?’

Billy nodded.

‘We understand. Thanks for letting us go, officer.’

Reave flicked the buggy into drive, and they moved off. The cop watched them until they’d left the square. Once out of sight of him, Reave glanced at Billy.

‘I think you were right about this town.’

‘I’ll say one thing for it, it’s better than Dur Shanzag. Let’s make it down to the outlanders’ quarter. The good people of Port Judas give me the creeps. I think we’d be better off with the bad people.’

The outlanders’ quarter was surrounded with a high stone wall made from the same grey stone as the rest of the city. Billy and Reave drove along the wall until they came to an entrance. Over it was a sign that read ‘Outlanders’ Reserved Area. Gates Closed Dusk to Dawn.’ Two more Bureau of Correction officers were on duty at the gate. They waved Billy and Reave down.

‘Are ye entering for the first time?’

Billy and Reave both nodded.

‘That’s right.’

One of the officers produced a bundle of yellow cards, and handed them one each.

‘Heed the warnings contained therein.’

They both promised they would, and the officer waved them on. As they drove into the outlanders’ quarter, Billy scanned the card. It was closely printed on both sides with stern warnings to outlanders as to what the good citizens of Port Judas considered to be unseemly behaviour. The gist of it was that any foreigner showing his face in the main part of the city had better have a pass, a good reason for being there, and get himself back behind the walls before sunset.