de foot into action。 Rex watched in fascination。 Old Adam Earth favoured the ancient Tibetan fighting technique known as Dimac； when disposing of the Dalai's would…be assassins； but this was something far more convincing。
'Goes with the sickle；' said the mystery man； enigmatically。 Rex pondered upon a course of action。 However the large amount of Tomorrowman Brew now burning its way through his stomach lining made cogitation difficult。
'That's him； chief。' Rex heard the curious voice； although he couldn't see its owner。
'You certain？' The mystery man addressed this question to the air。
'Sure thing chief。 The old dame in the bunker showed us the picture； remember？'
'He looks like shit。'
'Hardly surprising。 Best tackle him now； eh？'
'No sweat。' Elvis approached Rex Mundi。 Rex sought invisibility without success。 'Hey fella； I'd like a word with you。' Rex weighed up his chances。 The barman was down and out； the punters； momentarily interrupted from their viewing； had now returned to it。 This was what was once called a one…to…one situation。 Rex raised an unconvincing fist。
'Have a care；' he said。 'I know Dimac。'
Elvis raised calming palms。 'I ain't looking to fight。 I just want to move mouth with you； is all。'
'Eh？'
'Talk。 Sit down； no problem。' Rex sat down。 He almost made the chair。 Elvis helped him up on to it。 'There。 You OK？'
'I don't feel all that clever as it happens。'
'You'll be OK。 The name's Rex； right？'
Rex nodded carefully。 'I don't think we've been formally introduced。'
'The King； just call me the King。'
Why？ wondered Rex。 'As you please；' he said。 'So what do you have on your mind； your majesty？'
'Revolution；' said Elvis Presley。
20
。。。 the records？ You mean the albums； right？ Everybody always asks about the albums。 A quarter； maybe half a million of them； I guess； and growing all the time。 And he kept them moving around； never in the same place for long。 They were stored at the foundation at the first off； he had them guarded day and night。 Then he said that they should be moved out。 They went into containers； we worked on shifts； took us nearly three weeks to load them up。 Then they travelled。 All over the country。 All new； all mint condition； still in the cellophane wraps； never played。 Imagine a collection like that and he never played them。 This would be late in sixty…eight and he was getting real reclusive by then。 We'd get phonecalls and stuff； nothing in writing of course。 Some times we wouldn't hear from him for weeks。 And there were a lot of hassles。 A lot of people asking awkward questions； and none of us had any answers。 Things got real bad about then。 People stopped smiling； do you know what I mean ？
The Suburban Book of the Dead
'Kidnap the Dalai Lama？' Rex clutched at his narcotized head。 'That is what you are saying？' He examined his fingers； between them were small knots of dead hair。
'Sure thing； buddy。'
'I would suggest that it was anything but。 But why him； why not Pope Joan or L。 Ron Hubbard the twenty…third？'
'All in good time。 I gotta personal score to settle。'
Rex could feel the room circling。 'Let me get this straight。 You are telling me that the Dalai Lama is the what？'
The enlightened look we have e to know； if not perhaps to love； was once more upon the face of Elvis Presley。 'Ant…eye…Christ。' （Well； that's how he pronounced it。） 'Ant…eye…Christ。'
'Antichrist。 Sorry； this is all somewhat unexpected。'
'I have seen the future。 It's much like the past； only worse。'
'I never expected much else。 Who are you？'
'I told you。 Are you sure we got the right guy？' The question wasn't directed toward Rex。
'Sure thing； chief。 He's your man。'
'Who said that？
'I have a sprout in my head；' Presley explained。
'Ah；' said Rex。 It was a very meaningful 'ah'。 'I have to take a spray now and very probably throw up。 If you will excuse me？'
'I'll bust your head if you try to leave。'
'Yes； indeed。 Now let me just recap。 Revolution； kidnap； the Antichrist； and a sprout in your head。'
'That's about the size of it。'
'Friend；' said Rex。 'I don't know what you are on。 But it certainly is not what I'm on。' With no further ments to make； Rex fell forward across the table and from there to the floor。
'He's out of it for now； chief；' came a voice from the rear of Presley's skull。 'Best away to a place of safety with him until he sobers up。'
'We could have a drink before we go。'
The Time Sprout drew Presley's attention to Rex； who was now puking silently in his narcotic slumbers。 'Best not； eh？'
'So then what？'
'So then he helped Rex up and they went off screen； sir。' Fergus smiled； a little too placently for Mungo's liking。 'We can't be everywhere。 Most places； yes； but not everywhere。'
Mungo sniffed pollen。 'We refoliated that planet； every leaf； flower； mould and fungus all broadcasting back to us。 There can't be any blank spots； surely？'
'Well； we've lost Rex before。 There are dead areas all over； we never needed to pay them much attention before now。'
'So we can't see what they are up to？'
'Not until they break cover again。 But I might suggest the suspense angle。 Both of them are geared up to take some sort of revenge； don't you think？'
'Kindly expound further。'
'Rex Mundi must be pretty put out over his aunt； and Elvi。。。'
'Yes Fergus； the mercurial and inspired Mr Presley？'
'Bit of an unknown quantity； I agree。 But I'm sure he can be chivvied along in the right direction。'
'I can't imagine upon what evidence you can possibly base that supposition。'
'Oh； wheels are in motion；' lied Fergus Shaman。 'Any more memos from Jason Morgawr？'
'Hourly；' Mungo replied。 'Although none telling me the all important news that he has stopped the spread of the virus。 Most read like the outpourings of some crazed evangelist。 If I were an uncharitable chap I might be led to the conclusion that Mr Morgawr was pulling some kind of fast one。 Your thoughts on this； Fergus。'
'Mine； as ever； mirror your own； sir。 A shady customer and no mistake。 One of the late Mr Garstang's confidants； or so I understand。'
'Well； you just keep a close eye on him。 Let me know exactly what he's up to； there's a good fellow。'
'I certainly will； sir。 Something of an upstart； our Mr Morgawr。 Not of the old school； like us。'
'Maybe so； just keep me informed。'
Fergus smiled his friendly smile。 Mungo Madoc was clearly in a full…time state of confusion。 If he played his cards right all kinds of possibility might present themselves。
I'm off the hook here； thought Fergus Shaman。
Oh no； you're not； thought Mungo Madoc。 He might not actually be able to read minds。 But he hadn't got where he had got by being a plete pillock。
'Aaaaaaaaaaaaagh； ow and ouch。' A good many hours had passed away； but these did nothing to spare Rex Mundi from a hangover of massive proportions。 Rex tore at his skull； uprooting further discouraging clumps of hair。 'Where am I？'
Elvis stirred life into the fire。 Above it hung a blackening coffee pot。 'How are you doing？'
'Not well；' Rex did some futile eye focusing。 'Where am I； or did I ask that already？'
'You did。 You are down below。' Elvis managed to get the sufficiently sombre tone into that。 'Down in the depths。 You've been here before； haven't you？'
Rex nodded； he'd been here before； although he couldn't recall exactly how。 'Is it safe？'
'Free from the bio…scan。'
'The bio…what？ No； don't tell me。'
'Have some coffee。 There's a whole mess of things I gotta tell you。'
Mess is probably right； thought Rex； which was absolutely right。
Dan fed the slim beads into his ears and jacked into the holophon。。。 Well since my baby left me 。。。 It felt even worse than before。 Closer somehow and more threatening。 The words approached him at great speed； as if wishing to physically assault him。 Where once they had been haunting and melancholy； now they were downright offensive。 They buffeted him in the face； probed through the pores of his skin。 Invaded him。 They lay in his stomach like leaden weights。 Dan jerked and twitched。 It hurt。 And the face of SUN leered at him。 Put the blue suede boot in and kicked him again and again and again。
'And that；' said Rex； when Elvis had finally run himself dry of exposition； 'is a mindbender to end all mind…benders。'
'How do you think I feel？' Elvis sipped cold coffee。 Rex turned his chipped cup between his unwashed fingers。 Another nail was ing loose。
'And so to cut a long story short；' said he； 'you were kidnapped in 1958 by a visitor from outer space； who travelled back through time by means of a sprout； which you now have in your head。' Elvis nodded。 'And this visitor from space and his chums have manipulated the entirety of human history so they can broadcast it as a television show on their planet。' Elvis nodded yet again。 Rex shook his head。 'And the present situation on Earth is somehow all your fault because you joined the Army。'
Elvis hung his head。 'Joined up。 Led an entire generation to disaster。'
'So what are you doing here？ Surely you should be back in nineteen…whatever；