'No.'
I ducked this time. Geof missed, but got me on the backswing.
'Sure?'
'Yes.'
Geof whipped me across the backs of the thighs.
'Look, you can have the car, God damn it, but I'm telling you I don't have the key!'
Moore raised a hand to stay Geof's. 'Forget it. Murray, take a look at this lock.'
Murray rummaged through a tool kit he'd brought on board, selected a flex-torque wrench and a long thin metal rod that looked good for picking old-fashioned mechanical locks, then sidestepped his way to the Chevy.
'You never answered my question, Moore,' I said,
'What question was that?'
'Who's pulling your strings?'
That got me another whack across the cranium.
'Nobody pulls my strings,' Moore said mildly. 'Or hasn't that been clearly established? I have been misled, though.' He scanned the trailer and caught sight of one of the computer's camera eyes. 'Misled. Hoodwinked. Led down the garden path.'
'If I had ears,' Wilkes' voice said, 'they'd be burning.' Moore snorted.
'Then what's, your motive, Zack?' I persisted, my ears ringing from the last blow. 'Don't tell me your beef against me was what made you chase us to the end of the universe.'
'Why not? I've been known to bear a grudge for far less than what you did to me.. but you're right. My motives were strictly patriotic. We had to get that map from you, or the Outworlds are sunk.'
'Oh, bullshit.' Another stroke of the tent pole creased my back. Wincing and blinking back tears, I rasped, 'Moore, listen to me. Hasn't it sunk in yet? The cube isn't a map. It never was!'
'Of course it's sunk in. It's branded in my hide, advertising me as the biggest fool in the cosmos. But now I need the blasted thing-both of them, I guess, though I don't understand that part of it. I need the cubes to buy off this insane planet:'
'So you've got 'em. So get the hell out of my truck!' Before Geof could lay on another stroke I pivoted sharply, brought my knee up waist high, and struck out with a kick to his chin, leading with the side of the foot. It caught him squarely, and he went flying into a pile of loose junk, out cold.
The third gunsel swung his weapon around to me but held off firing. I could tell by his eyes that he was very close to just letting me have it, but I'd frozen immediately after delivering the kick, and was far enough away to give him time for second thoughts.
I stood, unmoving, looking at him. A chuckle from Moore broke the tension, and he relaxed.
'Very good move,' Moore said. 'I was wondering when you were going to get a belly full of old Geof.' He sighed. 'Poor Geof. Dim as they come, I'm afraid.' His expression turned wistful. 'I wish Jules' heart hadn't given out. Jules had a head on him.' He sighed again, and turned toward Murray, who was probing the lock with the metal rod. 'How goes it?'
'It looks simple,' Murray complained, 'but it isn't.'
'Zack,' I said, 'do you really want that vehicle, or will you settle for an exact duplicate?'
'Eh?'
'This factory can turn out a thousand copies of that automobile in ten minutes-will, if the plant takes a liking to you. That thing was designed and produced here.'
'What are you talking about?'
'Didn't the Goddess tell you? This is where we got the car in the first place.'
Moore scowled. 'But you had it before you ever reached Microcosmos. How could it have come from here?'
'It's a paradox. Ask the Goddess.'
Moore grunted. 'Try to get a straight answer out of her. You haven't had to deal with… with that thing.'
'You don't need the cube, either. I know a way back. I have a map. The real map. It's yours if you leave the others out of it.'
Moore gave me a level stare. 'Where?'
'In the computer.'
Moore slowly turned his gaze toward the camera. 'True?'
'Absolutely,' Wilkes' simulacrum said.
Moore smiled thinly. 'You were waiting for the perfect moment to tell me-is that it?'
'Of course.'
` 'Of course.' Moore walked slowly, arms akimbo, toward the tiny box-and-cylinder affair of the camera, looking into the lens. 'It's painfully obvious that you want something, Wilkes. But for the life of me, I can't understand why you think you're in a position to bargain for it.'
'Think again.'
'I can just take that map. Murray knows computers.'
'I'll erase it before you can pull my plug.'
Moore stopped and stamped his foot. The trailer shook. 'Damn you! You're dead. I saw them bury you. And here you are, scheming your way through eternity-'
The Wilkes program laughed.
Moore sighed again. He looked tired, very tired. 'What do you want?'
'Well, this is a little embarrassing… but I don't quite know. Um, let me put it this way-I know what I want, but I don't know who exactly to bargain with. That is to say, I have an idea of who to dicker with, but the notion won't-'
'What do you want?' Moore said tightly.
'Why, a fine new body, like Sam's.'
Moore was exasperated. 'I certainly can't give it to you!'
'No, you can't. But maybe Jake can.'
Moore's eyes grew wary. 'Oh?'
'Sure. I know the plant, what it can do. It can manufacture almost anything. It surely could fabricate me a body. as good as Sam's. I'd be willing to bet that Prime had Sam's built here. Now, I don't think the plant would do it for me-in fact, I'm fairly sure they wouldn't. But Jake's got a rep as something of an artiste around here. Right Jake? They'd do anything you'd tell them to do.'
'Why not?' I said. 'Sure, Corey. It's a deal.'
'Wait just a bloody minute here,' Moore said. 'There's no deal unless I'm in. Now, is that understood?' He waited. 'I said, is that underst-'
There came a flash of light and a loud crackle from the rear of the trailer. Moore jumped back and dropped to his knees, gun drawn. A column of blue smoke rose from. where Murray had been standing. I looked. A pile of carbonized matter lay on the deck-a blackened thigh bone, a rib, a shard of skull. There was nothing else but a heap of ash.
Moore rose slowly. He stepped cautiously toward the car, peering at the charred remains of his employee. The stench of burnt flesh filled the trailer. Moore's face drained, then filled with cold anger. He turned his gun on me.
'God damn you,' he breathed, then screamed, 'God damn you!'
He drew a bead on my forehead.
'No.'
The word fell between us like a carcass dropped from the ceiling. The voice that had uttered it was not human.
Twrrrll stepped out of the shadows. He held a small hand weapon, and it was trained on Moore.
'No,' he repeated. 'The Sacrrred Quarrry cannot be, damaged.'
Moore didn't move, keeping his deadly aim.
'Don't, Zack,' Wilkes' voice warned. 'Wouldn't be wise… just now.'
Time passed, a short eternity or two.
Slowly, Moore let the gun drop. 'Tie his feet, Darrell,' he told his only conscious helpmate. 'Then see if you
