Michael Moorcock: A Cure for Cancer

'It's a shame,' said Flora.

'And what's yon wee chappy so upset aboot?' Matron looked professionally at the crumpled figure of Frank who sat in the front seat covering his face with his thin hands and mewling to himself.

'Another emergency, I'm afraid, Matron. A special case...'

'Aye. That's what they all say.'

'Could you put him in a blank tank right away?'

'It is wise, Mr Cornelius?'

'It's urgent.'

'A rather crude...'

'Don't worry. He's a rather crude patient.'

If you say so, sir. I'll get a couple of the lads tae take him in.' Matron went back through the main door and re-emerged with two assistants who picked Frank up and bore him, tightly foetal now, off.

Koutrouboussis, in an elegant blue mohair lounge suit with matching shirt and tie, his face and hands bandaged, came out of the door after Matron had gone in. He glanced sourly at Jerry. 'Having fun?'

'Can't complain. You appear to have left London in a hurry. How are Maureen and Barbara?'

They were bubbled up,' Koutrouboussis said thoughtfully. 'Ah. This is Captain Hargreaves. Captain Hargreaves, this is Spiro Koutrouboussis. He's a member of my organization.'

'You run an organization?' Flora raised her eyebrows.

'Six of one, half a dozen of the other.'

'How do you do?' Koutrouboussis gave a tiny stiff bow, winced with pain and seemed to have difficulty turning his eyes on Jerry again. 'Did you get the machine?'

'Flora had it. It's in the back of the car.'

'So we can begin work. About bloody time. I'm sick to death of my particular role. I need a break.'

'We could all benefit from a change.'

'Can we get down to the lab now?'

'You can if you like. I'm a bit anxious about the inner man.' Jerry looked inquiringly at Flora. 'Could you do with a bite?'

She laughed. 'You know I could!'

Jerry escorted her into the cool, sweet-smelling interior of the reclamation centre.

Jerry walked between the rows of blank tanks in the long hushed ward.

Each tank had its indicators, its curled black figure, its tube running from the head to the surface to the connections along the edges. He studied the coded plates on the base of each tank and eventually found Frank. He was hanging in the exact centre of his tank. Every dial registered zero.

Jerry turned to the engineer who walked slowly down the other side of the aisle checking readings against sheets on a clipboard.

'Number 30005. Any anticipation yet?'

The engineer shrugged.

'Too early.'

Jerry licked his lower lip.

'Fair enough.'

The nympho cossack queen of the bloody steppes Catherine, in all her sweetness, stared at him through the darkness of the room and he sat up in the bed, his hand clawing into Flora's right breast so that she screamed and Catherine disappeared and Jerry slapped her mouth and punched her stomach and shrieked and ran from the room, and staggered through the galleries until he came back to the blank tank ward and reached Frank and smashed at the glass with his fists so his hands streamed with blood and the fluid from the tank bathed them. Frank sank.

Naked, Jerry went back to the bedroom and gathered up his gun while Flora wept. 'It's not your fault,' he said. 'But it's terror time, I'm afraid.'

Swamp lust!

Jerry crossed to the lab wing, holding his gun tight against his thigh. There were lights. He opened the door. Koutrouboussis looked up red-eyed.

'You may be black,' he said, 'but you look juicy to me.'

'Any results?' asked Jerry.

'We needed you. You were fucking about.'

'Well, I'm not fucking about now.' Jerry tied his gun by its trigger guard to a lock of his hair so that the weapon rested against his neck.

The black box stood on the bench. A score of fine leads ran from it and were connected to other instruments. Jerry pulled them out.

'You won't need those. It's to do with instinct, you see.' He flexed his fingers.

There's more than one way of skinning a cat,' said Koutrouboussis mildly.

'That ought to do it.' Jerry straightened up and closed the lid of the box. 'Ready to go, Mr Koutrouboussis.'

'Glad to hear it.'

There was a wet sound behind them. Flora Hargreaves supported a bleary Frank who had his needle-gun in his hand.

'You look nice in rubber,' Jerry said, 'but it's all that's holding you together.'

Frank groaned. 'I've a moral duty to perform, you filth.'

Jerry tilted his head so that his gun swung onto his shoulder. Frank steadied his hand.

'Why are you involving yourself in this, Flora?' Jerry folded his arms across his chest.

'I give back what I get, you bastard.'

Then you'd better give me Frank.' Jerry laughed. 'You know very well what will happen if you hit the box, Frank.'

'Well — Jerry — I don't — have to — take the — risk...'

Frank drooled.

'I suppose not.'

'You're the only — one — who knows which — button — to press...'

'Well. Mr Koutrouboussis...'

Koutrouboussis screamed as Frank's gun moved and the needle hit him in the knee.

'Good,' said Frank thickly. 'It's...' He squeezed the trigger again but Jerry was sliding across the floor and taking cover behind a rustling hallucimat, untangling the vibragun from his hair and brushing the cobwebs from his nose just as the door opened again and Bishop Beesley and Mitzi, closely followed by a man wearing the red robes of a Roman Catholic cardinal, entered the room. They all wore crossed bandoliers of bullets and carried Italian Mausers. Mitzi took Frank's needle-gun away from him and darted a disgusted look at Flora who was nursing her injured breast.

'By the way, Mr Cornelius,' said Bishop Beesley as he frisked Frank for pleasure. 'You'll be happy to know we've taken Karen into the fold again, poor thing.'

'How is she?'

Beesley shook his head. 'She's not the woman you remember, I'm afraid. Is that the box? Would you mind, cardinal?'

The cardinal hung his gun over his shoulder and lifted the box in his arms.

Mitzi glanced at Flora, then at Jerry, and with a gesture of compassion plugged Frank in the heart. Frank slapped down on the floor.

'Just a minute!' Jerry was offended. 'That was my bloody brother!'

'He was going to kill you, Herr Cornelius.'

'Still, it's my job.' Jerry stayed behind the hallucimat, his vibragun raised. 'You'd better put that box down, cardinal.'

The cardinal turned his swarthy, questioning features in Bishop Beesley's direction.

'Oh, Mr Cornelius knows his weapon would seriously upset his machine's mechanism.' Beesley lowered his rifle. 'It's not our intention to destroy either you or your invention, Mr Cornelius, as you well know. We intend to save both — for everybody's benefit. We have a great deal of work to undo yet, haven't we?'

Jerry sighed.

'I've got a good mind to...'

'Of course you have. You're so impulsive.'

'You couldn't operate it.'

'Perhaps not.'

'Oh, take the fucker.'

Mitzi looked at the needle-gun. Then she frowned at Flora and, by way of an experiment, stitched a line of slivers across Flora's throat.

As the blood sprang out, Flora put her hand up, then let it fall again, then toppled backwards. Mitzi laughed and shot Koutrou-boussis while she was at it.

'Do you believe in premonitions?' Jerry asked as they left.

'It depends on the source, Mr Cornelius.' Bishop Beesley rummaged in his pocket and found a large piece of walnut fudge. 'We'll be seeing you soon, I hope.'