***
At their post in the detention room, Shotgun and A. K. argued about the next move the Visionists should make.
“We need to get out of this place as soon as possible,” Shotgun said. “Every day we remain here is another one lost to the new age!”
“It’s not time yet,” A. K. said. “We need to get our strength back first. A lot of the members are wavering in their faith ...”
And so on. Both men knew that their conversation was useless, since the messiah would determine when the move would take place, without regard to their opinions. The fact that they were arguing at all was a testament to the ennui gripping the whole cult. The abrupt appearance of the demon spawn had only made matters worse.
The heated dispute distracted their attention from events going on outside. It also gave Winston the necessary cover to speak with Iridium.
“I have to fight these people,” Winston said.
“Not possible,” Iridium said. “Your programming won’t allow it.”
Winston glanced at the guards, who were still in animated discussion, then back toward Iridium.
“I could if I was deranged,” he said, “like those scrappers that attacked Dr. Rackenfauz.”
“How would you accomplish that?”
“I don’t know yet,” Winston said.
Iridium shook his head emphatically.
“If you were really nuts, you’d be a threat to everyone, including Star.”
“That’s where you’d come in, Iri,” Winston said. “Finish me off before I could harm her.”
Iridium’s usually impassive face registered astonishment, followed by a pitying look.
“It would never work,” he said.
“I have to do something.”
“Forget it, pal, you’re out of your league,” Iridium said. “Besides, Star might be a lot tougher than you think.”
He sprawled out, muzzle resting on his paws.
“I wish I could believe that,” Winston muttered.