I am a sorceress and a warrior. I do not relish being treated as a breeding animal. Would this occur to Captain Nordenholz? No force, he says, has been applied—but I am forced by my circumstances, cast up here with a peso, and by my Indian blood which compels me to side with all enemies of Spain. The child will be brought up a sorcerer or sorceress.

Now, a short rundown on these shabby adventurers plotting to appropriate a continent and remake it to their taste. They all puto queer maricones. Look at that Juanito—el mas maricon de los maricones. El mas puto de los putos. Nordenholz was selling his ass in Hamburg twenty years ago. Old story: sea captain takes a liking to him, signs him on as fourth mate.

And Strobe with his well-rehearsed Eton accent. Circus people. Mother and father were aerialists and they did this high-wire hanging act with angel wings: he takes off the noose, extends his wings, and goes into a dazzling aerial act with his angel wife. It attracted a lot of attentions and the Strobes were taken up by the best people but not for long. Soon the lordliness of their manners, talking to royalty as if they were being nice to the servants, rendered them absolutely insufferable. Their American origins were discovered and they were sent to the colonies, where they decided the angel act was too exotic for American tastes and booked as the Singing Aerialists. Soon they added other instruments, throwing them from one to another on tightropes—a high-wire musical juggling act it was. Young John learned his poise on the high wire and his swordsmanship as well. But show biz wasn't for him, and he shipped out with Nordenholz.

The Iguana twins have some claim to aristocratic birth. They came from an old landed family, impoverished and dispossessed. They were brought up to act rich at all times—'act like you've got it and you'll get it,' Mother always said. You can't lay it on too thick in Mexico. With preposterous forged titles and pistoleros on credit they seized an estate in northern Mexico and hit a silver vein.

Nordeholz is a good organizer. He saw at once that a single settlement would inevitably be discovered and wiped out. His plan called for a series of settlements, so that if one were taken they could retreat to another fortified position while bands of thirty men or so cut supply lines, contaminated the enemy water supply, conducted hit-and-run raids, and eventually forced the enemy to fight on two fronts when they laid siege to the next position. Sound strategy. With every victory, more people flocked to the Articles.

Suppose the Spanish have been driven out or brought under the Articles? Suppose, too, similar uprisings in North America and Canada have shattered English and French rule. What now? Can this vast territory be held without the usual machinery of government, ambassadors, standing army and navy? They can only plan to hold the area by sorcery. This is a sorcerers' revolution. I must find my part as a sorceress.

Quien es?

We flew back with a three-hour stopover at Orly. I had decided what I was going to do. I was going to refund Mr. Green's retainer, minus travel expenses, and tell him the actual killers were dead in a plane crash. The Greek police consider the case closed. Nothing further I can do.

Back in my New York loft I called the Greens. 'This is Clem Snide calling. I'd like to speak to Mr. Green, please.'

A woman's voice sounded guarded: 'What is it in reference to, please?'

'I am a private investigator retained by Mr. Green.'

'Well, I'm afraid you can't speak to him. You see, Mr. and Mrs. Green are dead.'

'Dead?'

'Yes. They were killed last night in a car crash. This is Mrs. Green's sister.' She sounded pretty cool about it.

'I'm terribly sorry....' I was thinking about what Dimitri had said. The 'Adepts' who had hanged Jerry did not know what magical intentions they were projecting. They did not know to whom they were aspeak ... plane crash ... car crash ...

I didn't want to think about the Green case anymore, but it stuck to me like the fever smell. What had Dimitri called it? B-23, the Hanging Fever.

Death is enforced separation from the body. Orgasm is identification with the body. So death in the moment of orgasm

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