'Certainly not。 Actually I'm a revolutionary。'
'A what？'
'A revolutionary。 I'm going to help overthrow the system。'
The AC threw up his hands in horror。 In doing so he cut off the studio sound and left the rehearsing Lamarettes miming foolishly。
'Overthrow the system。' He retwiddled his dials。 'You can't do that。'
'But I thought you were against the management。'
'Yes； of course。 But you can't overthrow the system。 Oh； my dear paws。 Where would we all be？ What would we do？'
'You could go into dispute with the new management。'
'That might take years。 The thing requires a great deal of mutual understanding。 You have to build up a rapport。 No。 Revolution just won't do。 We can't have any of that。 I shall call down to security and have you removed at once。 You are obviously in need of treatment。'
'Do you see this？' Rex exhibited a handgun Elvis had thrust upon him。 'I can either shoot you or bop you on the head。 Which would you prefer？'
The AC mulled it over。 'Could you not perhaps bind and gag me； or even swear me to silence and pack me off to the canteen？' Rex raised an eyebrow which asked the question； would you？ The AC nodded gloomily。
'I think I'll plump for the bop on the head then。 But before you do I would just like to stress the extreme folly of revolution。 Firstly。。。'
Rex bopped him on the head and seated himself at the controls。 He had just pleted phase one of Mr Presley's revolutionary masterplan。 Where it was all going to lead now was very much in the lap of the Gods。
Mickey Malkuth stuck the business end of his electric truncheon up the left nostril of Rambo Bloodaxe。 'In answer to your question； 〃old bean〃； you will put on this suit because I tell you to。'
'I see；' Rambo said； nasally。 'That clarifies things no end。 Let's tog up then； Eric。 No need to keep the gentlemen waiting；'
Deathblade Eric perused the outfit which had been flung in his direction。 'Khaki。 It doesn't suit my colouring。 And the cut of the cloth。 Inferior；' He shook his head； spraying the onlookers with skull fragments。 'Do you have anything in royal blue？'
'Do you want this up your chocolate speedway； dream…boat？' Malkuth waggled his truncheon toward the doubtful Devianti。 'Them's battle fatigues。'
'We rather gathered that； dear sir；' Rambo held his projected apparel towards his extended nostril and gave it a little sniff。 'Are we joining up then； or what？'
'You're revolutionaries； ain't you？ You got to look the part；'
'Revolutionaries？' Rambo chewed upon the word。 To him it didn't taste good。 'We are Devianti。 Tomorrow belongs to us； as yesterday once did。 We are victims of a slight hiccup in the status quo。 Once law and order are properly restored； then we…' Rambo sank to the floor clutching his betruncheoned head。
'It hurts even more when it's switched on；' Malkuth informed him。 'Now； get dressed；'
'Might we not be permitted some privacy？'
'You've got nothing I haven't seen and thumped；'
'True；' Rambo slipped out of his soiled； yet spiffing togs and zipped himself into the evil…smelling fatigues。
'Could have been made for you。 Now the headband；'
'Oh really。 Headbands are so passé；' Malkuth raised his truncheon。
Eric had his trousers over his head。 'The sleeves are a bit long；' he mumbled。 'And I can't seem to find the neckhole；'
Dan was in the Green Room。 A row of empty glasses was before him。 Gloria's voice was close at his ear。 'Get a grip of yourself； man。'
'I'm in total control； Gloria； thank you。'
'You are totally out of control。 Things are getting beyond your control。'
'Nothing is beyond my control。'
'And your Mr SUN？'
'Rex has that in hand。'
'That little cockroach。 My bidet is still not fixed。'
'The engineers are in dispute。 Must you go on and on？'
'You're losing it； Dan。'
'I don't recall sanctioning such informality。'
'Dan； listen to me。'
'Gloria。 I think it's time you took a holiday。' Gloria made mouths。 Dan continued。 'Frankly； Gloria； you are beginning to get on my tits。 You nag me。 I don't feel that the Living God King should be nagged。 In fact； Gloria； I think I will send you on a little sabbatical。 A study of waste disposal maintenance in the sub…basements。 I'll arrange it all after the show。 Go toss a few things into a travelling bag。 Whatever you think you might need for a year。'
Gloria's face was ashen。 She opened her mouth to speak。
'Best not；' Dan advised。 'Or I might extend it to two years。'
Gloria turned in fury and tore out of the room。 Dan whistled a little tune of his own confection and tapped upon the housephone。
'Inmost One？' came the voice of Mickey Malkuth。
'Ah yes； Malkuth。 Leave what you are doing and take yourself off to the control room。 Rex Mundi has just bopped the AC on the head。 Put a couple of bullets through him for me； would you？ So kind； thank you。' Losing it； thought Dan； that will be the day。
24
。。。 ；' came into this maybe by chance。 But having read these documents all through； I'm not sure what chance actually is any more。 I opened my little place in ninety…four。 Software； hardware； decks； breakers； peeps； intermixers； decoders。 Of course you won't find me in the yellow pages。 You have to know who to ask and then some。 I deal in all the stuff that the mainstreamers deny the very existence of。 And I only deal for currency。 A kid of twelve can milk a p…account nowadays with the kind of gear I market。 So I'd be some kind of turkey to bank my own ill…gottens。 Now； the guy you 're talking about。 He gets my name from a trusted friend。 I； of course； run him through the works to see if he's clean and hit a red…light classified。 I dig and delve a little。 Skirt around the big security areas and penetrate the police files to check him out。 Like I say any twelve…year…old with nous can do this。 Turns out that there is an all…points out on this guy。 The CLA want him bad。 Bad for him； but not so bad for me。 In my books this makes him triple safe to deal with。
So I arrange a meet in Fangio's。 It's a connection bar； no questions asked。 The guy es in and he's got the craziest eyes I ever saw。 And sweat； can this guy sweat。 I give him a stiff drink and he tells me what he wants。 Seems he has got hold of some million byte carbon and wants it transferred into something innocuous before the agency catches up with him。 It's some kind of super…duper program belonging to some project that got busted。 I raise my eyebrows to all this intelligence Million byte carbons； K2s to those in the know； are about as scarce as the fertilizer which issues from the tail end of the treen pony Very much the state…of…the…art。 I tell this guy that I will require big boodle for this operation； and what variety of thing does he want it pacted into？ He says he doesn't care as long as it's no longer recognizable for the thing it is； and will I take the carbon as payment？ Yes； I reply。 We take a trip across town and I shan't be putting you on if I tell you that I'm cautious in the extreme to assure myself that we aren't tailed。
I also make sure that I carry the carbon； in case we have to split up for any reason。 So anyway； we arrive back at my place unmolested and I jack up my deck Which for those who wish to know such things is a Gibson 440 with cross…pattern interface and lock…in multi…broads； full spectrum I don't tell this guy that his is the first K2 that I have ever laid hands upon and the chances of pacting the inpactible are less than zero He looks as if he was worried enough But looking back it was somewhat neither here nor there； because the next thing I know is the terminator which is stuck in my ear And the guy making mockery of my equipment and using jargon the like of which is perplexing to my ears I wind up handcuffed to my chair whilst he sets up my linkages and runs the whole program himself； before my very eyes And all the time he is going； 'crude； crude； crude'； some thanks So once he's run in the program he then looks about my place for something to store it in。 And then he sees my collection and he starts to laugh 'Just the trick；' says he； 'pure irony 'Well； I don't know what irony is； but my collection is something else For one thing it is plete； was plete I had everything the Man ever did。 And this son…of…a…bitch just dips in at random And does he take some remix or caver version ？ Does he king shit He takes the jewel of my fucking collection Laughing like a drain as he does it The Suburban Book of the Dead
'He's a friend to the foe
The star of the show
The man we all know
By his king…sized karma
He's a real breath of spring
He's the Living God King
He's the Dalai。。。 Dalai。。。 Dalai
Dalai 。。。 La 。。。 ma'
Dan's suit was electronic jiggery…pokery。 Although nothing new had been invented upon Earth during the preceding three decades； the scope of the Dalai's wardrobe； allied with the brief lifespans of his audience； saw to it that he always remained Mr Wonderful。 mercial holographies； sired in the late 1980s and milked for all they were worth after the NHE； were still capable of impressing those conditioned to be impressed。 Dan's suit seethed with three…dimensional erotica。 A heaving p