(Some cheers from supporters of the away team.)

  ‘Cab, sir?’ barked barbecued Bill the driver, raising the charred relic of what once had been his cap. ‘Hop in, Johnny, we’ve got work to do.’

  Johnny Dee tried to open a rear door. It disintegrated in his hands. He climbed into the wreckage and sat where he could.

  ‘Is there anything you’d like to tell me about, Bill?’ he asked. ‘You look a mite off-colour.’

  ‘I haven’t been in this for ages,’ said Rex Mundi. ‘What am I doing now?’

  ‘Smuggling my brother and me into the Butcher Building.’ Chico replied. ‘Do try and pay attention.’

  ‘Cor,’ went Rex. ‘Look at that lot. What aren’t they doing?’

  ‘They aren’t shooting anyone, by the look of them. Let’s go over and check them out.’

  ‘Sure thing.’ Rex carried the double-header across the lobby and inspected the row of frozen Repo Men. ‘What happened here? Why are they just standing there like that?’

  Harpo said, ‘If you ask me, it’s some kind of contemporary sculpture. Big enterprises like this always like this sort of stuff. It’s probably got some pretentious name and cost a small fortune.’

  ‘No, Harpo.’ Chico shook his head. ‘That isn’t it at all.’

  ‘Yeah, well you would say that, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Because you’re wrong. Kindly shut up.’

  ‘Don’t tell me to shut up. You shut up.’

  ‘Come on now, you two.’ Rex gave them a shake.

  ‘Don’t you shake my brother,’ said Harpo.

  ‘Nor mine,’ said Chico.

  ‘I looked like Tom Cruise first,’ Kevin complained.

  ‘So?’ asked Reg.

  ‘So?’ asked Jason.

  ‘So we can’t all look like Tom Cruise.’

  ‘You could be triplets.’ Sharon suggested. She was tall and tanned and young and lovely, with a mane of golden hair and large passionate grey eyes. ‘And it’s straight on at the lights for the Butcher Building, by the way.’

  ‘Put your foot down further and switch that siren back on,’ demanded Sam Maggott.

  ‘No agent, eh?’ said the MTWTV station head. ‘I think we can do business with this guy. Take his name and tell him he’s got a deal.’

  ‘I got zapped by a flying saucer,’ Bill explained. ‘It hasn’t done much for my temper.’

  ‘Simon Butcher!’ The Anti-Rex waved his gun in the air. ‘I’m coming to kill you!’

  ‘My hair’s blonder than yours,’ said Alison to Sharon.

  ‘Oh no it’s not.’

  ‘Oh yes it is.’

  Laura seated herself before the controls. ‘I think I can work all this out for myself.’ She rubbed her hands together.

  ‘I bet you don’t get the chance though.’ The voice belonged to Jonathan Crawford. Laura looked up in horror. Jonathan’s face grinned at her from the telescreens.

  Laura smiled. ‘Still a little bit of you left in the machine, eh?’ She touched buttons on the console and the faces of Jonathan blacked out. ‘Soon have all your little tricks out of there.’

  ‘I doubt that.’ The voice was Jonathan’s once again.

  Laura studied the telescreens. ‘Say that again.’ Her hand hovered above the console.

  ‘I said, I doubt that.’ A pistol butt caught her on the side of the head. Laura fell from her chair on to the dead boy on the floor.

  ‘Not very nice of you, stomping on my face like that.’

  Laura gazed up. Jonathan gazed down. I told you you were making a big mistake.’

  Laura wiped blood from her eyes. ‘But this was you. You said that only you could assemble the apparatus.’

  ‘Yes, I did, didn’t I?’ Jonathan swung his foot at Laura’s face. Before it struck home the chapter came to a hasty conclusion.

  18

  Rock ‘n’ Roll is making love to the Justice of the Peace’s daughter in the back of a stolen Chevy, drinking beer you bought on a fake ID, at a drive-in showing Vanishing Point or something. That’s what Rock ‘n’ Roll is.

  M. Nixon

  I’m only dancing cos I can’t stop shaking.

  John Spencer

  Jonathan dragged Laura to her feet. He hadn’t really kicked her in the face; you’ve got to draw the line somewhere, although I’ve never been exactly sure where.

  ‘You’ve worked out very well,’ Jonathan told her. ‘I knew I couldn’t trust you, although you checked out okay on my instrumentation, I’ll have to look into that. But, you’ve been good value for money. Two different game scenarios for the death of the boy genius. They will go down a storm with my business partners. The big question is now, what should I do with you? It wouldn’t come across as very credible if I trusted you a third time. The second time was pushing it a bit.’

  ‘You could let me escape,’ Laura suggested hopefully. ‘Not knowingly of course. I could just, well, escape when you weren’t looking.’

  ‘You could. But I don’t like it. Better if I just end your scenario right here and now.’ Laura looked down at the boy. He was clearly insane.

  ‘Not very imaginative,’ she heard herself saying. ‘Not for the great Jonathan Crawford. The genius who turned life on Earth into a virtual-reality computer game for the Gods. That is what you’ve done, isn’t it?’

  Jonathan made a smug face. ‘It’s a bit more complicated than that as it happens. But you’re close.’

  ‘So you can hardly just kill me off now. I’m the female lead, the hero has to get me at the end. It’s tradition or an old charter or something.’

  Jonathan stroked his pointy little chin. ‘Seems to me that just about everybody’s had you already. But I take your point. Winner takes all, and as I intend to be the winner, shooting you would be a bit of a waste. Tell you what, I’ve got a far better idea. One that’s always popular. Come on, this way.’ Jonathan gestured towards the lift door.

  ‘We’re going up, aren’t we, Barry?’

  ‘Chief, press that button there. That one and be quick about it.’

  ‘Barry, you’re giving the game away now.’

  ‘Chief, if you know what’s good for you, press the damn button.’

  ‘This one?’

  ‘That one.’

  Laura and Jonathan stood before the sixty-sixth floor lift door. ‘Press the call button, Laura.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Where do you think?’

  ‘Down.’ Laura’s voice had that doomed quality about it.

  ‘You got it. Where is that lift?’

  Ping went the little bell, the way some of them do. The lift doors opened. The lift was empty.

  ‘Barry, where are we?’

  ‘Sixty-fifth floor, chief. And in the nick of time.’

  ‘Is it all right for you to say sixty-fifth floor?’

  ‘Do you see a sixty-fifth floor, chief?’

  ‘Not with my eyes closed I don’t.’

  ‘There you go, then.’

  ‘Barry, this is just plain stupid.’

  ‘Should suit you fine, then,’

  ‘What’s that, Barry?’

  ‘Nothing, chief.’

  ‘You lying git, I heard you that time.’

  The lift passed the ground-floor level and made for the vault. ‘Down here,’ whispered Laura.

  Ping went the little bell. The lift doors opened. ‘In you go then.’

  Laura hesitated. Jonathan prodded her with his average-sized weapon. ‘Get moving.’

  ‘Jonathan, I don’t think I-’

  ‘Please shut up and go on. You know which way.’

  ‘I don’t want to go in there again.’

  ‘But you must, my dear. You really must. Heroine trapped in the treasure cave, time ticking away until the Big Bang; can the hero reach her in time? If that’s not a classic scenario, then I don’t know what is.’

  They moved amidst the massive paintings. The portraits of Presley, clad in the regal fineries of ancient times.
The gilded icons, busts and figurines. The images of the false messiah. They approached the blank stone wall.

  ‘No, Jonathan, please.’

  The bad boy tinkered at his wrist. The wall dissolved to reveal the chamber containing the juke-box sarcophagus. ‘In.’

  ‘No, please.’

  ‘Get in.’ Jonathan thrust her forwards. And then she felt it again. That terrible loneliness. That fear. The sorrow.

  Jonathan’s laughter rang in Laura’s ears in the traditional manner as the wall closed upon her.

  ‘We missed the lift,’ said Rex.

  ‘Never mind, we’ll catch it when it comes up again.’

  ‘All right,’ said Kevin. ‘All right. There’s five of us. Three look like Tom Cruise and the other two like Julia Roberts.’

  ‘I look much more like her than Sharon does.’

  ‘Oh no you don’t.’

  ‘Ladies, please. We are supposed to be revolutionaries, fighting for a sacred cause. Followers of BAH-REAH the All-Knower. We have to rescue our high priestess Laura and overthrow the system. We can’t carry on in this bloody silly fashion.’

  ‘I don’t know about you lot,’ said Jason. ‘But I think Kevin looks just like Danny De Vito.’

  Officer Cecil finally switched on the siren. ‘Happy now?’ he asked in a petulant manner.

  ‘Overtake those trucks, then,’ ordered Sam.

  ‘With the greatest of pleasure.’ Cecil swerved past the MTWTV catering truck. Inside Balberith was on the car phone.

  ‘And I’ve always wanted to do a kiddies’ series like Sesame Street,’ he was saying, ‘but of course I’d want to eat a couple of the little bastards afterwards, if that would be OK with you.’

  ‘Can’t see any problem there, fella,’ the MTWTV station head put his hand over the mouthpiece; ‘get your foot down,’ he told the driver, ‘lose this maniac.’

  The Anti-Rex strode along a corridor of floor sixty-five. The Robocop super-gun swinging to left and right. He turned a corner and stopped in no small surprise. Coming in his direction was a man in a trenchcoat and fedora. A man who should surely have been blown to pieces in the alleyway behind the Tomorrowman Tavern. He was feeling his way along a wall with one hand and carrying a sprout in the other. A very familiar-looking sprout.

  ‘Rex,’ said Barry.

  ‘Hi there.’

  Ping went the lift bell at ground-floor level.

  ‘Bother,’ said Jonathan. The lift doors opened. Jonathan looked out. Rex Mundi looked in.

  ‘Oh!’ said he.

  ‘Oh indeed.’ Jonathan aimed his gun at Rex. ‘What the Hell is that ugly-looking sucker sticking out of your jacket?’

  ‘Barry,’ said the Anti-Rex. ‘I thought you were still-’

  ‘In the bucket, chief? Nah, I got fed up with that.’

  ‘So you’ve got your awesome powers back then?’ A cruel smile appeared on the stinker’s lips.

  ‘Can I open my eyes, Barry? It’s Rex, isn’t it?’

  ‘Shut your rap, ass-wipe.’

  ‘That’s not very nice, chief. What’s got into you? And where did you get that gun? That’s the one out of Robocop, isn’t it?’

  ‘Toss Barry over to me, slime-ball. And keep your eyes shut.’

  ‘I don’t know that I wish to be tossed anywhere as it happens. What’s got into you Rex, you’re not yourself at all.’

  ‘I think you might just have something there, Barry.’

  ‘You’re a bit early, Rex.’ Jonathan beckoned with his gun. ‘I wasn’t expecting you for another hour or so. But as you’re here, you might as well stay where I can keep an eye on you. Come on, and quietly now.’

  Rex came quietly.

  ‘Floor sixty-six please, press the button please.’

  Rex pressed the button. The doors dosed and the lift rose.

  ‘What’s with the freak?’ Jonathan waggled his gun at Harpo/Chico. ‘Starting up your own circus?’

  ‘I don’t like this big boy,’ blubbered Harpo. ‘Turn him into a bunny rabbit.’

  ‘Not yet, bruv.’

  ‘How does it do that? It’s too young to talk.’

  ‘How’s the big game going, Jonathan? Anyone getting close to winning it yet?’ Rex leaned over to the lad in a chummy sort of fashion.

  ‘Back off please,’ Jonathan raised his gun. ‘And what exactly do you know about the game?’

  ‘Just about enough to win it.’

  ‘Oh, I do hope so, Rex, I really really do.’

  ‘Now!’ shouted the Anti-Rex, cocking his great big pistol. ‘Toss Barry over.’

  ‘What should I do, Barry?’

  ‘I think I shall have to check this out. I know I shouldn’t, but I’m just going to pop forwards half an hour and see what’s going to be going on. If you catch my drift, and I’m sure that you do.’

  ‘No, Barry, wait. Take me with you.’

  ‘Hold him or you’re dead!’

  ‘I’m trying.’

  But it was all too late. Barry was gone. Laz had an empty hand and the Anti-Rex had a loaded pistol.

  ‘Oh dear,’ said he. ‘Oh dear, oh dear. Seems like you’re dead, then.’

  ‘Okay okay,’ cried Kevin. ‘We’re freedom fighters and as such we’re all free to look like whoever we want. Now, can we go and rescue Laura?’

  The Tom Cruises and the Julia Roberts lookalikes nodded their beautiful heads. One of the twins (I think it was Alison) said ‘There’s an MTWTV truck belting up behind us and a load of police cars. Can’t we go any faster?’

  ‘Spin the gun turret around and take a pop at them, will you, Tom.’

  Reg and Jason hastened to oblige.

  In the lift Jonathan suddenly said, ‘Oh golly. In all the excitement I’ve let the Repo Men go off-line.’ He tapped furiously at his wrist. It’s all the fault of that Laura.’

  ‘How is Laura?’ Rex did another chummy lean-forward job. Only this time he kneed Jonathan in the groin and tore the gun from his hand. ‘Nice one,’ said Harpo.

  ‘Do you want to open your eyes before I shoot you?’ the Anti-Rex asked.

  ‘I’d prefer not, thank you. Barry might well be back any second to get me out of this.’

  ‘Mr Woodbarf, nothing is going to get you out of this.’ The evil one stuck the barrel of his super-gun into Laz’s left ear. ‘Any last words?’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘I said, any last words!’

  ‘No need to shout.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘BARRY, HELP!!!’

  ‘Nice try.’ Cock and click went the super-gun.

  Rumble rumble, shout and holla, came the sudden commotion in the corridor. So many big Repo Men and so many holy water-pistols all at once. ‘Oh bollocks,’ muttered the Anti-Rex, ‘Dee and Kelley, where are you?’

  ‘Talked all night,’ said Johnny Dee to blackened Bill. ‘Waffle waffle waffle. All kinds of plots and plans and evil schemes. All crap, if you ask me. Ed and I had to go along with it, of course. We were supposed to blow our way into the basement of the Butcher Building. The Presley hoard is in there, you see.’

  ‘Oh, that’s where it is. I was taking Rex there when I got blown up. Found my cab out back of the Tomorrowman. Frankly, I’m quite upset about the whole thing.’

  ‘You look upset,’ said Johnny.

  ‘Where is Laura?’ Rex inquired.

  Jonathan clutched at himself. ‘Where you’ll never find her,’ he mumbled.

  ‘Jonathan, surely you’ve noticed. Half the plot of this book appears to revolve around people holding guns on other people. Now, at this moment, as you can see, I’m holding the gun on you. Tell me where Laura is, or I will have no hesitation in shooting you.’

  ‘Floor sixty-five,’ said Jonathan, with no hesitation of his own. Rex pressed the button. ‘You’d better not be lying.’

  The youthful blackguard crossed his black heart. ‘As if I’d dare.’

  ‘Just sign here.’ The MTWTV station head passed Mojo the fountain pen. ‘Th
e truck’s swerving around a lot. What’s going on out there?’

  ‘Nothing to worry about. Steady yourself on the table. Here you go.’ Shell-fire suddenly tore into the roof of the mobile boardroom.

  ‘Shit,’ said Mojo.

  ‘Sign,’ said the station head.

  ‘Well, I’m not too sure. What do you think, Debbie?’

  ‘Hello!’ shouted Balberith into the car phone. ‘Anybody there?’

  For those who like a time check once in a while, it was now 9.30 hours to go and still counting down.

  Laura hugged her arms. The room was impossibly cold. The sarcophagus lay before her. Within it the body of Elvis. The false God. The reason behind it all. Behind everything she loathed and despised. But something more.

  Laura was shaking. She found genuine fear in this tiny room. Beyond the walls life was unreal. It had been made to become unreal. But in here there was some kind of crazy reality. The reality of death perhaps? The inevitability of age and ruination? The very pointlessness of if all? Laura placed her trembling hands upon the coffin’s lid.

  ‘Elvis,’ she said. ‘What are you?’

  Ping went that little bell again. This time at floor sixty-five. The lift doors opened.

  It was an interesting tableau. Lazlo Woodbine with his hands over his face. The Anti-Rex with his hands in the air. And a whole lot of Repo Men. Those who weren’t training water pistols on the other Rex, swung other weapons in the direction of the real thing.

  ‘I’ll take my gun back now, if you don’t mind.’ Rex handed it over.

  ‘I’ve never liked you, Jonathan,’ said Rex. 255

  Jonathan smiled and then kicked Rex between the legs. ‘Nor me, you, as it happens.’