The Medida War Page 13

  MD plunged his hand into the wound. He ripped out some interesting looking components and threw them away. These were performance related because their absence seemed to substantially slow Hammerstein down.

  Joe leapt on his back but it was covered with antipersonnel spikes, so the sniper was helplessly impaled on him.

  This gave MD the chance to pick Hammerstein up by one of his feet, swing him round his head and bash him against a wall.

  Hammerstein broke through the wall and went careering into the kitchens, where the shocked Red House catering staff had just taken a splendid Thanksgiving trikey out of the oven.

  While he was still sprawled on the floor, MD ran towards him, with Joe still on his back. MD grabbed hold of Hammerstein's head and shoved it in the oven, before turning the flames up full blast. He was trying to repeatedly close the oven door on him at the same time.

  Joe snapped off one of the spikes, leaned forward and stabbed it into one of MD's optics. MD's reaction was disappointing; just a minor grunt by way of acknowledgement. Joe stabbed him in the face and neck. Again, just grunts.

  With Joe still impaled on his back, MD hauled a flailing, molten Hammerstein out of the oven and began jumping up and down on his chest. He was trying to break the robot equivalent of his rib cage.

  Hammerstein wrenched open a chest inspection plate before falling back in agony under the repeated blows.

  Joe leaned over to a working surface and seized hold of a hand-held food mixer. He rammed it in MD's face. On full power. Nothing.

  He picked up an electric carving knife and tried that on MD. It got nowhere on his armour.

  But some cables were now spewing out of MD's chest and Joe seized hold of some and began sawing through them with the carving knife.

  "How do you like that, you bootleg?"

  MD's siren howled. He didn't like it at all.

  A gun poked out of MD's spine into Joe's stomach and blasted him off the spikes.

  Then MD returned to maiming Hammerstein. Carefully placing one foot on the war machine's groin for leverage, he raised Hammerstein's right leg in the air and tried to bend it the wrong way so that it would snap off at the knee.

  That didn't really work as Hammerstein could run as fast backwards as he could forwards. But sideways seemed to get a better result.

  Hammerstein's head bolts popped out and his head shot up through the air and head-butted MD.

  Micro-jets in Hammerstein's chin ensured repeat performances, flying backwards and forwards at high speed.

  MD staggered back and the headless Hammerstein clambered to his feet. He grabbed MD around the waist and gave him a bear hug.

  All this metal mayhem may have been diverting for the participants, but Hoodwink's objective was the elimination of the ABCs. "Enough! Finish them off!"

  The Managing Director of violence obediently pointed one laser rifle at Hammerstein's flying head and another at Joe. Just to be sure, he also aimed a chest cannon at Hammerstein's body, while the end of a heavy machine gun gaped out of his mouth at Joe.

  FOURTEEN

  "I don't think that's a very good idea," said a voice behind Hoodwink.

  The blackness of the night formed into the menacing shape of Deadlock. He had one hand around Seraph while the other pointed his demonic sword at the old man's throat.

  Whatever entity possessed the robot wizard's Ace of Swords, Snnktts didn't like the idea of a close encounter of the sword kind with it.

  "Zkhkhkopp!" said Snnktts from inside Seraph.

  "Cease fire!" said his human host.

  MD reluctantly obeyed. He'd only managed to get in one quick burst.

  "They have to pay for Morrigun's death," snarled Hammerstein, reassembling himself. He jumped up and down, shaking the bullets out. "Bootleg."

  "Killing the president's Special Adviser would not be the best way for you to increase the peace," pointed out Hoodwink nervously, the sword still at his throat. "And would swiftly lead to retaliatory action."

  "My sentiments exactly," concurred Deadlock. "We have to put aside our differences and look to the future."

  He released Seraph.

  "I've finally managed to persuade Medusa to call a halt to her so-called 'bioterrorism,'" he revealed. "She's laying off the meteorites, the acid rain and the gravity storms. So we are no longer in dispute."

  "Good," said Seraph. "It's time we all sang from the same hymn sheet."

  "Hallelujah!" said Deadlock.

  Hammerstein reluctantly saw the sense of what they were saying. As his head bolts screwed his head back into position, he glowered at MD. "Soon."

  "Very soon," said Mass Destruction. Some private joke seemed to be giving MD great amusement. Hammerstein could hear him humming to himself. But he wasn't giving any clues as to what the joke was.

  "A misunderstanding," explained Hoodwink as Biohazard Troops entered the kitchen. "There's no security threat here."

  "You sure, sir?" asked a lieutenant. "We didn't want to intervene during the fight; we weren't sure who was on whose side."

  "We're all on the same side now, officer," Hoodwink responded smoothly. "The side of peace. There's a great future for this planet and the ABC Warriors are an important part of it."

  "If you say so, sir," replied the lieutenant.

  The combatants stepped out of the kitchen and back onto the Red House lawn.

  The officer turned to the guests who had been watching from a nervous distance. "Okay, folks, show's over. On with the celebrations."

  To great applause, the Red House chef and his assistants staggered out onto the lawn carrying the Thanksgiving trikey which had survived the carnage in the kitchen.

  The great gobbler had the usual three eyes, three wings and three legs. Not known for its lovely looks, it also had more air sacs hanging off it than a humpie. Despite its golden, fully roasted flesh, and the sage and thyme wafting from its nether regions, there was something baleful about the bird.

  Surrounded by the media and guests, President Cobb gave his customary Colonisation Day speech before carving. Being sincere was what he did best.

  "Through the generations, we colonists have known our share of hardships. And we've been through some tough times, some testing moments during these last few months.

  "Meteorites, acid rain, gravity storms. When trimorphs, Zombies and Clone Cowboys attacked the forces of freedom, they hoped we would leave this planet. But we stood firm and prevailed. And we shall go on prevailing.

  "We shall win because our cause is just and we have the will to win. Tonight ," he paused for dramatic effect, "we have seen...

  "The Triumph of the Will."

  There was a thunderous ovation. Hoodwink, who had written the speech, had no scruples.

  "For tonight, I bring you a message of hope. The war with Medusa is finally over. She has agreed to no longer reanimate our dead and clone our living. I have managed to call a truce with the planetary consciousness. This means..."

  He became a little teary-eyed.

  "Peace in our time."

  Once again there was a huge ovation.

  Seraph had a low opinion of his audience's knowledge of ancient history.

  "In the past, Mars has seen us as aliens, as extra-martials, but no longer. Tonight, you can say ..."

  He made a dramatic gesture to the cameras.

  "I, too, am a Martian!"

  Seraph could sink lower than a limbo dancer.

  This time, the president got a ten minute standing ovation.

  Finally, he raised a hand for silence and continued. "We thank all our brave young men and women who fought the good fight against bioterrorism. We are proud of you. And we will not forget the sacrifices you made. Including..." he looked suitably sad and bowed his head.

  "The supreme sacrifice."

  "Wasn't it all actually thanks to the ABC Warriors?" interrupted a Redpeace reporter who couldn't stomach any more.

  "Yes. They had something to do with it as well." He nodded dismissivel
y in the direction of Hammerstein, Joe and Deadlock.

  "And you gave the order for the Biohazard Troops to attack the ghetto?"

  Security guards started to move in on the heckler.

  He managed to get in one more question before they dragged him away. "Don't you feel any responsibility for the slaughter of all those innocent trimorphs?"

  Cobb was forced to make an impromptu reply.

  "There are no stains on my character, as my wife Nancy will confirm."

  The president turned to his invisible TV audience, watching him on their personal screenlesses, and he continued to read from his autocue.

  "This is a time for Thanksgiving. For families. So my message to you all is... Go home and rejoice!"

  Hoodwink's opinion of the audience was clearly subterranean.

  His words were greeted with final thunderous applause.

  Balloons in the shape of trikeys were released into the air. This was followed by the sounds of whistles, gunfire and wild cheers.

  "Thank you very much," said Cobb. And added emotionally, "Gaia bless you. And... Gaia bless the United States of Mars."

  He smiled expansively one last time for the cameras. "Now... if you'll all take your places in the chow line, let's carve up this big old bird."

  He raised a carving knife to slice into its succulent flesh.

  "You basted," said the Thanksgiving trikey. "You complete basted."

  It was confusing its words slightly as it reared its hideous head up at the startled president.

  It regarded him with three beady eyes.

  "Get stuffed!"

  It turned towards the invited guests.

  "And stuff you all, too!"

  There was no mistaking that strident, commanding tone. It was the dreadful voice of the planet's First Lady.

  It stared malevolently at the cameras, addressing the millions of unseen humans. "Now let's talk trikey! You two-legged freaks! Three in one! One in three! That is the true way."

  It reared up from the plate, sauce dribbling down its scrawny neck and pointed an imperious wing at them.

  "I have had a very poultry response to my demands for change. Unless things change, you will all need a taxidermist when I've finished with you! You fragged your own planet and now you have the temerity to come here and frag mine!" she snarled.

  Biohazard Troops rushed forward before the trikey could subject everyone to further verbal abuse.

  Snarling, "Get down, Mr President!" they machine-gunned the meat and two veg.

  Budabudabudabuda!

  Spitting out bullets, the bird reared up again and retorted, "I will not be silenced! I will not be silenced! There will be no Peace in our Time! Or even in my thyme!"

  Budabudabudabuda!

  "My best crockery!" screamed Nancy Cobb, the president's wife, as every exquisite plate in her dinner service was shattered into a thousand fragments.

  The foul-mouthed fowl hit the table, riddled with bullets. But it was somehow determined to go on and on, swearing and cursing humans to the last. "And you know what you can do with your parsley, sage and rosemary!"

  Budabudabudabudabudabudabudabuda!

  "Gaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrkk!"

  And finally expired.

  On prime time screenless.

  Hammerstein and Joe looked on with glazed, horrified expressions. Deadlock buried his head in his hands.

  Hoodwink smiled triumphantly, as far as a man whose mouth is twisted at a forty-five degree angle between his eyes can smile triumphantly. It couldn't have gone better if he'd planned it himself: the public humiliation of the president, the appalling insults to millions of Terrans, and on Colonisation Day as well.

  There could be no peace, no compromise with Medusa after this.

  Only war.

  And war was what his alien master craved for.

  "Pjhkhkxq!" said Snnktts.

  FIFTEEN

  Two weeks later, the news came as a bombshell to Joe.

  The splendid news about a famous couple that had just announced their engagement.

  Senator Diaz told reporters and a throng of well wishers that he was over Phobos and Deimos and that Juanita had consented to be his wife. "It was a whirlwind romance," he explained. "I didn't believe at love at first sight, but when I saw her at the Colonisation Day party, well..."

  "It was the same for me," Juanita said. "I thought - who is he? My Gaia! Such a profile! How is he able to make my heart beat so fast? What is this man doing to me?"

  Diaz looked proudly into his bride-to-be's eyes. "I'm going to be doing it a lot more, my dear."

  And she looked lovingly back into his.

  They made a wonderful couple, so suited to each other. They were both descended from the Foundation Fathers, even though they were on opposite sides of the political divide. He was the leader of the Rednecks and she a leader of Redpeace.

  "And will that work?" a reporter asked.

  Juanita Perez stroked the senator's forehead and pressed herself closely against him. "Love will find a way," she whispered meaningfully.

  "Well, well," sneered Blackblood delightedly as Joe stared horrified at the news broadcast.

  "I don't believe it," said Joe.

  "The great Mr Cool, who prides himself on pulling every time, finally got burnt. Well, you were long overdue. You had it coming."

  "It's not possible."

  "It is. Even for you."

  "I do not believe it."

  "Yes, I'm afraid the one who's about to be dumped is always the last to know."

  "But she hated him!"

  "Women tell you that. That's just to sucker you. They're cunning that way. I can admire that."

  "No!"

  "I have to say it was a superb betrayal," continued Blackblood.

  Time spent out in the desert killing Clone Cowboys didn't seem to have mellowed him any.

  "I'm full of admiration. She really took you in. Perfect."

  Joe wouldn't accept what Blackblood was saying. And his vindictive words became blocked-out white noise as he played back the scene where Diaz and Juanita announced their engagement. He studied her face carefully. It certainly looked as if Juanita was in love with him. He gave her voice a lie detector test. It was disappointing. Deeply disappointing.

  She wasn't lying. She genuinely loved Diaz.

  What was going on?

  He played back the thought-mail she'd sent him from her sick bed the day after she'd been taken to hospital by Diaz.

  'My darling Joe.

  My lion.

  I have tasted Heaven and still remember the deepest emotions you produced in me.

  And now I am lost and alone without your splendour. I yearn for your return.

  And to taste Heaven once again.

  Until we are together there is only sorrowfulness in my heart.

  My body misses you.

  Me, too.

  I am drowned in the memory of your hands.

  Sleep tidy.

  Merda! I hate lonely beds.

  Cia caro. J.'

  And that was the last he had heard from her.

  Almost.

  His thought-mails were returned to sender.

  He contacted the hospital and was told she was sent to a specialist hospital for a course of anti-demonics. They had refused to give him the contact details as he was not next of kin.

  He tried to speak to Senator Diaz, but was unable to get past his secretary.

  He would have gone in search of her, but Hammerstein refused him permission. The situation was far too explosive after Medusa's outburst on Colonisation Day.

  The Warriors were needed for peace-keeping duties, to patrol and protect the remaining trimorph ghettoes in Viking City and in Tripolis.

  There had been several ugly incidents where human mobs had attacked Marzahs - Martian holy morphs. They were already forbidden by human law to read the trible, their sacred book, or practice their religion, although the Arch-Marzah was still allowed to worship Medusa at his cathedra
l in Tripolis. Now the humans wanted revenge for the Colonisation Day humiliation. And the G Men just happened to be on duty elsewhere when the mob went on the rampage.

  Although it has to be said that the trible, divinely revealed from Medusa to her prophets, had a negative attitude towards humans and was not particularly helpful at increasing the peace.

  For example, the Book of Tribulations, Chapter Three, Verse thirty three read, "And it came to pass that the Holy One was seized by the unwhole one. Verily he said unto him, 'Come back when you've grown another arm and leg.'"

  Reluctantly, Joe had gone about his duties, protecting the Marzahs, but his heart and his head were elsewhere. He could not stop thinking of the beautiful actress and their one night of magic together.

  And suddenly, mysteriously, out of the blue, he received one final tantalizing thought-mail from her.

  "Don't cry for me. Juanita."

  One last cruelly cryptic message that raised his hopes. And dashed them cruelly again.

  For he heard nothing more from her.

  Nothing.

  Fin.

  "Look... Leo, it happens, man." Blackblood's harsh metallic voice brought Joe out of his reverie. "She dumped you. Gave you the old heave-ho. She traded up. That's what these chicks do."

  "No. She wasn't like that."

  "They're all like that. Come on - how is a robot going to compete with a senator? You're not in the same league."

  Her last enigmatic message ran through his mind again and again.

  "Don't cry for me. Juanita."

  He tried again to decipher its meaning.

  What was she really trying to say?

  Each day he interpreted the message in a different way. Each day he gave her words a new significance. Some days it would give him cause for hope and he would feel alive and happy again. Other days he would be plunged into the darkest despair.

  He watched her movies constantly to try and ease his pain, but it only made it worse.

  Especially the deeply moving moment in The Music Box, where Juanita opens her box for the last time to Rhapsody on a Theme by Paganini.