Mick Farren - Last Stand of the DNA Cowboys

'Listen, we've all been around the block enough times to at least keep an open mind about the possibility of there being either a prime or secondary manipulation in the affairs of men.'

Reave did not look terribly impressed. "The affairs of men"? You're starting to sound like a metaphysician, Minstrel Boy.'

The Minstrel Boy smiled despite himself. 'You know me better than that.'

Billy levered himself upright. 'So why bother us with all this prime manipulation crap? Shit just happens.'

Reave laughed. 'It certainly seems to happen to you.'

Billy scowled. 'That's kind of rich, Reave. Where do you get off taking the moral high ground? How many raids did you go on with Baptiste before you discovered that riding into town and murdering the population wasn't as much fun as it had seemed at first?'

Reave snarled, and if Renatta had not laughed, he might have made a grab for Billy Oblivion. Instead, he rounded on her. 'What's so goddamn funny, lady?'

Renatta was not in the least intimidated. 'I was just thinking what a kick it is, sitting here with the legendary DNA Cowboys while they bicker like small boys. I mean, there was a time when I used to regard you guys like some sort of big deal, but look at you now. One of you's been locked up in a monastery, the other's been in a sexual trance, and the third's been out committing mass murder. You've been out there on the edge withimmortality, sex, and violence, respectively, and when you finally get back together again, all you can do is sit around and bitch at each other. Isn't that enough of a joke?'

Reave leveled a finger at her. 'You didn't ought to talk that way. At best, you're here in the capacity of a rookie, perhaps just a mere concubine.'

Renatta curled her lip right back at him as she poured herself another martini from the coldpitcher. 'Concubine yourself, Jack. It's pathetic. The great adventurers? You're a triple burnout. About the only adventure you seem capable of is the kind that ends up with you running out of the bank into the guns of the entire Bolivian National Guard.'

'The Bolivian National Guard? What in hell are you talking about?'

The Minstrel Boy sipped his brandy. 'It's an arcane cultural reference. I think she's suggesting that there's nothing left for us to do except go out and die in a blaze of glory.'

Billy stared glumly into his drink. 'She might be right.'

Reave scowled. 'Screw that. I'm not ready for a blaze of glory quite yet.'

The Minstrel Boy sat back in his chair and reflected on the others. Already he, Billy, and Reave were falling back into the old patterns. Billy complained, the Minstrel Boy worried, and Reave was the headlong swashbuckler who pulled the other two along with his last enthusiasms. The Minstrel Boy was not even sure he liked the other two. Individually they struggled and scuffled, but when they operated together there was a special chemistry. As far as he could see, that chemistry was at work again. The Minstrel Boy would not be happy, though, until he knew why it was at work. There was also the matter of Renatta. There had always been women, of course, but very few of them had wanted to be part of the team in the way she appeared to. The drunker she got, the more she goaded them, as though trying to shame them back to some imagined state of past glory.

'So what are we ready for?' the Minstrel Boy asked.

'Still looking for the cosmic motivation?'

The Minstrel Boy was a little tired of taking attitude from Billy. So the guy had had it bad. Well, which of them hadn't had it bad at one time or another?

'All I've been trying to say is that I find it more than a coincidence that the three of us have been reunited right whenthe world looks like it's going into the start of a new, all-over phase of violence.'

Renatta looked up. 'What makes you think the world's going into a new, all-over phase of violence? How would you know? You've been holed up in the Caverns all this time.'

'I'm only guessing, but it sure looks like it. The Hunters are loose in the Caverns, Baptiste and his gang are running amok among the stasis towns, and Billy's seen nothing but violence since he left the Sanctuary. Even that river settlement we stumbled into was being blown apart by air pirates.'

For once, Reave was on his side. 'He's right about that. There's trouble all over. Baptiste's bunch isn't the only one out raiding the settlements. It sure seems like something's on the boil.'

'All I know is that the three of us ran as a bonded triad and — '

Reave switched back. 'A bonded triad? Is that what we were? Hell, I thought we were just three guys who hung out and got into trouble together. Where've you been getting all of these high-priced words?'

The Minstrel Boy flashed with drunken irritation. 'Can I get to finish a thought, goddamn it?'

Billy laughed. 'Be our guest.'

The Minstrel Boy picked up the brandy bottle and found that it was empty. That was the last straw. 'This is pointless. I'm going to get another bottle.'

'Why don't you just ring for the steward?'

'I could use the walk. Think about this, though, while I'm gone. I may be crazy for looking for some external force that's brought us together, but if there is one, we'd be in a lot better position if we could figure out what it was.'

Swaying slightly, the Minstrel Boy left the room. Outside in the corridor, he had to lean against the wall for a moment. He was drunker than he had thought. He took a couple of deep breaths and pushed himself upright again.

'Pull yourself together, boy. You've got to make it to the Great Hall.'

The dim, smoky gaslights that were the only illumination in the corridor refused to keep still as he lurched toward the steps that led down into the hall. His head was swimming, and he started having second thoughts. Maybe he didn't need thewalk, after all. Perhaps he should just go back and call the steward. He stopped, and that moment of hesitation saved his life. Something sharp and metallic struck the stone wall in a flash of sparks, just inches from his head. If he had not halted, the power shirakin that lay humming on the flagstone floor would have been buried deep in his skull.

'What the. .'

There were muffled footfalls behind him. He turned stupidly. His reactions were shot. A shadowy figure came at him. There was a high-voltage crackle, and a foot-long lightslicer glowed into dazzling life. The short ribbon of pure energy was more than capable of carving him into paper-thin strips. The figure launched itself. The Minstrel Boy's body responded more readily than his brain. His legs, with a seeming will of their own, gave way under him and he dropped to his knees. That appeared to be the very last thing his attacker expected. The mystery figure had aimed both its feet in a high flying kick that was supposed to hit either his head or his upper body. As it was, the blow only brushed his shoulder. His assailant overshot and collided with the wall. There was a metallic scream and another shower of sparks, and the lightslicer touched stone.

The Minstrel Boy fell awkwardly. His right arm was twisted behind him, but his fingers were all but touching the Colt auto in the waistband of his pants. His hand closed around it. The attacker had quickly recovered. He swung the lightslicer. The Minstrel Boy rolled. There were more sparks as the bright weapon bit into the flagstones where he had just been lying. His gun was out. He did not bother with the lasersight. He pulled the trigger, firing blindly. The roar was deafening in the narrow corridor. There was a scream, and the lightslicer fell to the floor.

The door to the room he had just left flew open, and light spilled out. Reave was in the corridor with a pistol in each hand. 'What's going on out here?'

The Minstrel Boy lowered the Colt. He was shaking all over from the clash of adrenaline and alcohol. 'Don't shoot! It's me. Someone just tried to kill me.'