The Quest of the DNA Cowboys (21 page)

Billy rested his chin on his knees.

‘That won’t matter. Not for a few years. I’ll deal with that problem when it comes.’

‘A few years? You won’t live a few weeks.’

‘What the hell are you talking about?’

‘You’ve seen the way these people live. They load themselves up on everything they can get their hands on, and no doubt you plan to do the same. Right?’

Billy giggled.

‘Sure, why not? Nothing wrong with that, or are you going to hand me some crap that being stoned is an illusion?’

‘I ain’t saying nothing like that. You know me, Billy. I’ll get stoned any time, but I wouldn’t stay here. I know I wouldn’t last thirty days.’

Billy looked confused.

‘There’s nothing here to hurt me.’

‘The whole life style would kill you. The fact that you’re human would kill you.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘How do you feel right now?’

Billy shrugged.

‘Okay. Kind of wasted. Why?’

‘Think you could live like this all the time?’

‘No but …’

‘That’s how life goes on here. You’d have to live like everyone else. There’d be no other way.’

Billy gestured to the sleeping girl.

‘She seems to do okay on it.’

‘Sure she does. She doesn’t age. Her tissue regenerates, She can grow new brain cells. You can’t. You live the same way as her for a couple of weeks and your brain’ll be fried. It’ll burn out. Your body would break down, and you’d die. Now do you understand?’

Billy put his head in his hands.

‘Are you sure about this?’

The Minstrel Boy nodded.

‘Quite sure. It’s happened.’

‘Jesus. I don’t know what to do. I believe you. It’s just that I still want to stay here.’

The Minstrel Boy put a hand on Billy’s shoulder.

‘I know how you feel, man. Think I wouldn’t like to stay here and just play music with those guys? It’d be the best thing in the world, but I know it wouldn’t work out.’

‘I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.’

The Minstrel Boy stood up.

‘Come along with us now. It’s easier this way. If we hang around until they wake up, it’ll be a whole lot more difficult.’

Slowly, as though he was in a trance, Billy got to his feet. He looked down at the girl sleeping on the moss. He sighed deeply.

‘I suppose you’re right.’

He picked up his shirt and slowly began to pull it on. When he was fully dressed they started to make their way down the track that led to the jetty. To their surprise, when they emerged from the forest there was no sign of the Maria Nowhere, The jetty led out into an empty river. The three of them looked at each other in bewilderment.

‘How did we manage to miss it?’

‘It surely can’t be that late.’

The Minstrel Boy shrugged.

‘It’s gone. That’s for sure, and my partner’s on it with all my money.’

Reave slapped his forehead in horror.

‘Most of our money’s on that fucking boat as well. Billy hid it under the mattress.’

Billy grinned.

‘I suppose we’ll have to spend another night in Dropville. That won’t hurt us.’

Reave and the Minstrel Boy scowled at him.

‘Another night there, and none of us might want to leave.’

Billy laughed.

‘What else can we do?’

The Minstrel Boy pointed to the edge of the jetty. There were some canoes tied up.

‘We could take one of those. It’s an easy stretch of river, we could catch the Maria Nowhere when she stops over at the next town.’

Billy looked at the canoes dubiously.

‘Couldn’t we wait for the next boat?’

‘There may not be one for a week, and we don’t have any money.’

‘I guess it’s all down to paddling then.’

They climbed into one of the flimsy craft, settled themselves and pushed off. They found that if they kept to the middle of the river, the current carried them along at a fair speed, and they only needed to paddle when they wanted to change course. The sky was warm, and it seemed to be a not unpleasant way to spend the day. After the first novelty of riding the river had worn off, Billy announced that he was going to catch a few hours’ sleep. He curled up in the stern of the canoe. The next thing he knew was the Minstrel Boy yelling at him.

‘Wake up, Billy. We’re in trouble, man.’

‘What’s the matter?’

‘There seems to be a fault in the river. A big hole that’s sucking us in. Paddling doesn’t help, we’re heading straight for it.’

Billy became aware of a deep roaring noise, and he sat up. Ahead of them was a huge circular hole, rather like they’d seen on the road out of Graveyard, only much, much bigger. All the water from the river seemed to be pouring down as though it was a huge drain. Billy grabbed a paddle and tried desperately to fight the current. Reave and the Minstrel Boy both shook their heads.

‘It’s no good. We’ve tried. It doesn’t make the slightest difference.’

The roar of the water was so loud that they had to shout to make themselves heard.

‘Ain’t there nothing we can do?’

Billy looked round desperately. The hole was getting very close. Then he had an idea.

‘Turn on your porta-pacs! I don’t know if it’ll do any good but it might help.’

Coming up to the hole was like going over a waterfall. A knot twisted in Billy’s stomach. The boat tilted and then dropped into the hole. They held their breath and fell. There was nothing else to do.

They fell. It seemed to go on for ever. Billy’s lungs ached from holding his breath. He felt that maybe he should let himself drown. Maybe it would be easier than being dashed to pieces when they hit bottom.

Then he was floating. He was going upwards. The porta-pac field seemed to have a buoyancy all of its own. His head broke water, and he took a deep, choking breath. After holding his breath so long it felt wonderful. The field of the porta-pac seemed to support him, and he looked around. A few yards away was the canoe. It was floating upside down, but otherwise it seemed undamaged. Billy paddled towards it. He was struggling to turn it over when Reave appeared beside him. Together, they righted the canoe and flopped inside. Billy tentatively switched off his porta-pac. Nothing changed. It seemed as though they had arrived somewhere. Billy sat up and looked around. There was smooth, untroubled water as far as he could see. He turned to Reave.

‘Have you seen the Minstrel Boy?’

Reave shook his head.

‘Not since we fell into the hole.’

‘I hope he made it.’

‘I hope he landed somewhere better than this. There’s no sign of land anywhere.’

‘It’s so still, too. No waves, no breeze, nothing.’

‘Which way do you think we should go?’

Billy looked at the sky. It was a flat uniform grey, a few shades darker than the water. He shook his head.

‘Your guess is as good as mine, and anyway, we don’t have any paddles.’

Reave pointed.

‘Yes we do. Look.’

There was a single paddle floating a few yards away. They pushed the boat towards it, and Reave fished it out of the water.

‘We can take turns. I’ll do the first stint.’

He settled in the stern and began to propel them across the smooth surface of the lake. Billy sat in the bows and stared into the distance, searching in vain for something that would give them a clue to what direction to take. There was no way to judge the passage of time. Nothing moved either on or under the water. Billy glanced at Reave.

‘You think they have day and night here?’

Reave grunted.

‘The time I’ve been paddling, it sure don’t feel like it. You want to take a turn?’

They changed places, and Billy dug in with the paddle. Reave dipped his hand into the water.

‘I wonder if you can drink this stuff.’

He licked his fingers.

‘Tastes okay. It don’t seem like we’re going to die of thirst. I tell you one thing though, I’m going to be well hungry pretty soon. I sure wish Burt the Medicine was here to bring out one of his meals.’

Billy slammed the paddle into the water with unnecessary force.

‘Burt the Medicine’s dead.’

There was a tense silence, and Reave fidgeted awkwardly.

‘You still mad because we made you come away from Dropville?’

Billy shook his head.

‘I ain’t mad, but I don’t really want to talk about it.’

From then on he paddled in silence, avoiding Reave’s occasional glances. Then Reave crouched forward in the bow.

‘Hey, Billy. There’s something out there.’

Billy shaded his eyes and stared where Reave pointed.

‘There’s something out there all right. You still got your gun?’

Reave nodded.

‘Sure. You?’

‘Yeah.’

They paddled towards the object bobbing on the surface. Reave looked back at Billy.

‘You know, from here, it looks like a couple of people swimming.’

‘Maybe it’s the Minstrel Boy?’

‘It definitely looks like two, I’d say … Holy shit!’

An impossible sight was rising out of the water. Two women, both identical, carrying a third in their arms. They wore white ankle-length cloaks, and silver helmets that covered most of their faces. Even the folds of their garments seemed to hang in exactly the same way. They pulsed with a faint blue light, and Billy wondered if the pulse was real or a flashback to the previous night’s drugs. Reave backed down the canoe and crouched beside Billy with his gun drawn.

‘What is it?’

‘I’ve no idea. Let’s just go on and see what happens.’

Billy steered the canoe so it passed within four or five yards of the figures. The strange beings stood motionless, and then slowly turned their heads in perfect unison. Then Billy and Reave were past them, Billy rested the paddle and stared back at the unique thing that floated above the surface of the water. Billy felt an unreasoning blanket of sadness wrap around him. Reave crawled down the canoe and crouched beside him.

‘Gosh.’

Billy looked at Reave strangely, but said nothing. The heads turned back to where they had been looking previously. It seemed that Billy and Reave held no more interest. The figures began to move. They were like a rigid statue that drifted forward across the lake, gradually gathering speed. The composite entity began to grow smaller and smaller, and soon Billy and Reave could no longer make it out at all. Billy turned to look at Reave.

‘What made you suddenly say “gosh” just now?’

Reave frowned.

‘I don’t know. My personality just seemed to slip for a moment. It’s back again now.’

A.A. Catto returned to her own apartment, bruised and aching. The door responded to her voice and she went straight through into her bedroom and threw herself down on the bed. Damn her oily cunning little brother and his tricks. The whipping was a novelty, but it certainly wasn’t worth the pain involved.

She slipped out of her white dress and looked up at the mirror ceiling. Her back and buttocks were crisscrossed by angry red weals. Curse Valdo, the little worm. She reached the bedside console and punched up Information. A blond Hostess-1 appeared on the screen.

‘May I help you?’

‘Get me a Medic.’

‘I’ll put you through, Miss Catto.’

‘Don’t put me through. Just get me one.’

‘What seems to be the trouble, Miss Catto?’

‘I’ve been whipped. By my brother. I suppose you could say the problem was bruising.’

‘I’ll have a Medic-1 with you straight away. Will there be anything else, Miss Catto?’

‘Yes, just one thing. If any word of this should leak out, I’ll see that you’re broken to L-4 before you know it.’

‘Your privacy is guaranteed, Miss Catto.’

A.A. Catto grunted and cut the connection. Within minutes, the door buzzer sounded and she pushed the entry button to admit a Medic-1 and a pair of Hostess-2s. She lay on her stomach while the Medic-1 inspected the damage to her back. The Medic had the white covers and the middle-aged, competent features that were the hallmark of his class. He shot four hundred mics of analgethene straight into A.A. Catto’s spine and the discomfort rapidly faded. The Medic ran a dispersed Gamma beam over her bruised flesh and the red weals started to fade. A.A. Catto found the treatment pleasant and stimulating. After some time the Medic straightened up, and put his equipment back into the carrying case.

‘You will make a perfect recovery, Miss Catto.’

‘Good. You’d better not say a word about this.’

The Medic placed a pompous hand on his heart.

‘Discretion is something sacred to this class.’

‘Yes, yes. You’re dismissed, you can go.’

The Medic and his two blond assistants departed. The console buzzed at her. A. A. Catto pushed the answer button, and Valdo’s face appeared on the screen.

‘I thought I’d call and see how you were, sister.’

A.A. Catto’s eyes flashed.

‘Haven’t you done enough for one day?’

‘You really are a bad loser. So angry, just because you lost one little bet.’

A.A. Catto snarled at her brother and cut the connection. The console buzzed again, but she ignored it. The last person she wanted to talk to was her wretched brother. She rolled on her back, and stared at her reflection on the ceiling. Her body was really far too beautiful for nasty little Valdo. She resolved that she would have nothing more to do with him, for a while, at least.

A.A. Catto began to get bored with even her own reflection. It was still only mid afternoon and after the painkillers and stimulants she had been consuming, it seemed a pity to waste them all. She stretched out a languid hand to the console and punched up the Steward service. A bronzed young man with short-cropped blond hair and pale blue covers answered.

‘May I help you?’

‘Can you send me a Steward straight away.’

‘What service do you require, Miss Catto?’

A.A. Catto giggled,

‘Personal, of course.’

‘Do you have any preference to the type of Steward?’

‘I’d like you to run up a special for me.’

‘Full gene surgery will take a few days, Miss Catto.’

‘Gene surgery won’t be necessary. A plastic temporary job will do.’

‘A plastic reconstruction will take about fifteen minutes.’