That's Chasseriau on
Screen 7."
On the monitor screen a frail young man in
his middle twenties had appeared. He was
nervously pacing the small living room of his
apartment.
"Notice the quality of this footage," said Sidebar. "I shot it this morning, using
nothing but natural light."
Gomez poked Natalie in the side with his
thumb. "You folks called on him and talked
with him?"
"Bright and early," she replied.
"Can you tell me some of what he told you?"
"Bouchon had confided in him, just a few
days before he was slaughtered, that he
suspected Bram Wexler was conspiring with two
or three of the major Teklords."
"That's a pretty serious charge. Did Bouchon have proof?"
"No, he wasn't even certain what exactly
was going on, but he knew Wexler was involved
in something shady and that it had to do with
Tek," answered the redheaded reporter.
"Originally, Bouchon had been sharing his
suspicions with Zack Rolfe, calling on him at
his place after office hours."
"Bueno. That means Bouchon wasn't fooling
around and that Rolfe was lying."
"That seemed to me obvious from the start,
Gomez, and I'm really astounded that none of
the IDCA people, nor any of the policemen on
this case, realized that," she said.
"Gradually Bouchon began to wonder if he
could trust Zack Rolfe. He apparently didn't
much like Chasseriau, but he was certain he
was honest. So he came to him to discuss what
was worrying him."
Gomez shook his head. "It was too late by then. They'd already decided to kill Bouchon
to keep him from nosing around further."
"Now take a look at Screen 3." She touched another button on the arm of the control
chair.
A bland chinless man, wearing rich, regal
robes and a glittering, gem-encrusted golden
crown, was addressing a crowded auditorium.
~ ~ 4
T ~ k L ~ b
"I'm keeping the sound off on all these
images because it interferes with my
narration," explained Natalie, "but you can take my word that his powers of "
"Caramba, " said Gomez, "that's none other than King Arthur II."
"Bram Wexler, a hypocrite who outwardly
pretends to be loyal to the President of
Great Britain, is associated with an
organization known as the Excalibur
Movement," said Natalie. "Their prime
objective is to see that England once again
becomes a monarchy. I haven't been able to
find out yet if they'd resort to murder to
gain their ends, but, by whatever means, they
want to see this simp ruling their country."
"This explains Zack Rolfe's last words."
"He said something to Jake as he was dying?
It would've been nice, Gomez, and in keeping
with your alleged newfound spirit of
cooperation, had you found it in your
peanut-sized heart to share those words."
"Chiquita, what Rolfe did was warn Jake to
watch out for Excalibur or words to that
effect."
The pretty reporter tapped the palms of her
hands on her knees, then rubbed her hands
together and smiled at him. "I can really
sense this, we're on top of a very big story
here."
"And a very big conspiracy most likely,
involving Teklords, monarchists, and lord
knows who else."
"It would make sense, especially since your partner is over in England just now, for you
and I to work closely together on this from
here on out, Gomez."
"Si, absolutely," he said. "That's a dandy notion, Nat."
"Wonderful." Leaning over, she kissed him on the cheek.
"Mush," said Sidebar.
1 5
20
There had been two of them, both carrying
highly polished electroknives. When Dan had
tried to explain to them what he was doing in
the ruins, one of them slapped him hard
across the face.
"We don't want any bleeding backtalk,
puffer," he warned in his whispery voice.
"You just keep it buttoned and come along
with us, hear."
"But I'm "
"What did I tell you about talking back?"
The lanky blond young man slapped Dan again.
This blow hit him across the mouth,
splitting his lip and drawing blood.
Spitting, Dan started at the young man.
The other boy, who was thin and at least a
year younger than Dan, stepped between them.
"He doesn't mean any harm, Ludd," he said, catching hold of Dan's arm and shoving him
back.
~ ~ Hi
T ~ k L n b
"Let him try to come at me, Angel. I'd like a chance to slice his heart out."
"No, we have to take him back to camp. That's the rules."
"Rules, my arse." Ludd swung his knife up in front of his face, flicking the switch
that started the sawtooth blade whirring.
"What's to stop us from slitting him open
here and now, taking his dabs, and "
"That's against the rules," warned Angel.
"Strangers have to be taken to camp. After
that, if Jamaica decides, we can kill him."
"Whole blooming country's going to hell
because of bloody rules." He slashed angrily at the air with his knife, shut it off, and
jammed it into his thigh holster. "All right, all right, we'll act like raving twits and
take him back with us."
Angel knuckled Dan's upper arm. "It isn't a far walk," he told him quietly. "Don't try to break loose, don't say a bleeding
word otherwise Ludd may decide to do for
you."
After a few seconds, Dan nodded curtly.
After leaving the detective agency offices,
Jake walked along Berkeley Street. As the day
waned, it grew grayer and colder and a harsh
wind filled the crowded walkways. The
skytrams flying slowly overhead were brightly
decorated for the holiday season; each one
playing a different Xmas tune from the
speakers planted in its red and green
underside.
Stationed on the corner was a chrome-plated
newsbot, hawking the Daily Skan. Jake paused,
seemingly to listen to the mechanical man
recite the menu of scandalous news to be
found in this afternoon's edition.
"Is the VP a puff?" asked the hot in his deep tinny voice. "Who caught Senator