Parshew-a-Thar's high nervous voice was relayed across all of Palanaque.
'My children. .' The pause seemed to go on forever. 'Evil days have come to test our loyalty. Evil men are among us. Necromancers and heretics are conjuring abominations in the most sacred places of our Great Pyi-amid. Their mercenaries wait without with their instruments of death.'
Billy looked outraged. 'He's talking about us.'
'But although the storm is in our midst, fear not. A savior is at hand. The warrior Baptiste waits outside our gates.'
'What?'
'How does he get around the fact that the savior wiped out his army as lately as this morning?'
'Vlad Baptiste has come with fire and a sword and has demonstrated the ways in which we have fallen into error. We must heed his words and prostrate ourselves before him. He will enter the city and free us from the abominations.'
Billy was shaking his head, looking bemused. 'I can't believe. .'
Reave glared at him. 'Sure you can.'
'We command you, my children, when the warrior Baptiste rides through the city, you will come out, you will leave yourhomes and come into the streets and, on your knees, make the fullest obeisance to this our deliverer.'
The Minstrel Boy let the AK slide from his shoulder. He felt its weight with his hands as though he needed the touch of something hard and tangible. 'I think that's the sickest joke I ever heard.'
Renatta pointed. 'The gates are opening.'
The quartet at the foot of the pyramid had expected that Baptiste, in the new and absurd role of savior, would come through first, riding on the turret of his armored car, grim-faced, goggles pushed back, and scarf flapping in the breeze. To their surprise, nothing of the sort happened — indeed, absolutely nothing prepared them for the first sight that did come marching out of the shadows of the gatehouse and down the boulevard.
'It's Stent!'
'Stent's changed ssdes?'
'It's not possible.'
Renatta quickly put them straight. 'It's not Stent.'
'It sure looks like Stent.'
'It's the same model armor, give or take a couple of decades, but it's not Stent. You can see that this one's much more corroded and scarred than Stent.'
'Where did it come from?'
'Baptiste must have been holding it in reserve. It only appeared after he issued the ultimatum.'
'Wherever it came from, it seems to be coming for us.'
The metal man was advancing on them at a rapid pace. The main body of raiders had started to emerge from the gatehouse, but they were coming on slowly, giving the metal man plenty of room. As the lizards plodded down the boulevard, it seemed that the entire population of Palanaque was coming out. On both sides of the boulevard they silently fell to their knees, prostrate as commanded, foreheads pressed to the ground and arms outstretched. The Minstrel Boy watched with a horror that, although different, quite matched the horror of the earlier slaughter. The shards of the Damaged World decayed in different ways. The Palanaquii had surrendered all will to a spurious, divine order, and they had all but ceased to think. It was the psychosis of slaves. In their craving for the comfort of a god they had refined abasement to a surreal art. Now, on a single command of their idiot master, they were changing gods. Maybe Baptiste would spare the Palanaquii and develop a taste for being worshiped. It would undoubtedly be an era of refined evil for as long as it lasted. The Minstrel Boy abandoned the speculation with an angry shake of the head. He did not want to think of what Vlad Baptiste might come up with as a divine being, and in any case, the metal man was getting close.
Reave looked back at the pyramid. There was still no sign of it opening. He beckoned to the others. 'We'll pull back to the entrance and hope that Showcross Gee pulls us out in the nick of time.'
Billy thumbed the ready on the multiplex. 'You want me to try a smartbomb on him?'
Reave shrugged. 'I doubt it will do much damage to that armor, but you can try.'
The amplified voice from behind took all four of them completely by surprise. 'Hold the bomb, Billy Oblivion. This traitor is mine!'
The entrance to the interior of the pyramid had silently opened. Lister Stent was coming down the stepped side of the giant structure. Clay Blaisdell was slightly behind him.
Reave yelled to the others. 'Okay, let's go. Let's get up those steps and inside.'
But Stent held up a hand. 'Wait! There's something that I have to settle.'
He marched past Reave. The other metal man had halted. Stent pointed an accusing arm at him 'You are a traitor. More Mornon. You have allied yourself with our enemy, and in so doing you have betrayed our kind and you have betrayed your host city.'
'Krystaleit is no more, and I am a free agent. I am ronin.'
'We are never ronin. You should have died with the contractor. The very fact that you are here is proof enough. You committed your act of treachery before the destruction of the city.'
'I am a free agent, Lister Stent.'
Stent crossed the plaza with fast, power-assisted strides and halted at the top of the steps that led down to the boulevard. Mornon waited at the bottom.
'You will face me one on one, More Mornon.'
'I 'm not afraid of you, Lister Stent.'
'Face retribution, traitor.'
Violet fire flashed from Stem's arm. Mornon staggered back a couple of paces in the face of the blast. The surface of his armor glowed cherry-red, but he did not go down. All around, everyone stood and stared. Baptiste and his men had come to a complete stop. Reave and the others had also turned and were watching in amazement. It was the spectacle of a lifetime. The metal men were rare enough in any circumstance, but to actually see two of them going against each other like a pair of steel sumo wrestlers was close to unique. Momon returned the blast, and it was Stent's turn to stagger. It quickly became clear to the onlookers that the two armored troopers were very evenly matched. Although the firepower built into their arms and chests was awesome in the extreme, their armor was equally formidable, and neither man seemed able to deliver a decisive knockout. For some minutes they both stood their ground, their huge tracked boots anchoring them to the flagstones. They tossed massive energy blasts at each other across the width of the plaza steps. There were moments when both men were completely enveloped in glowing energy. Cascades of sparks flew for dozens of yards all around, and the closest spectators had to scramble back to a safer distance.
Stent was the first to realize that they were at a stalemate. He suddenly changed his tactics. He charged down the steps at full speed and threw himself at Mornon. Both the crash of metal on metal and Mornon's amplified grunt of pain were audible all over the city. Stent began smashing his arms repeatedly on the top of Mornon's headpiece, powered forearm blows that rang like a giant hammer hitting the anvil of the gods and would have pulped a normal human in an instant. The obvious intent was to jar loose the implants where Mornon's armor and weapons systems interfaced with his natural body. Unable to blast through his armor, Stent was trying to force him to his knees and cripple him internally. Mornon immediately responded by wrapping his arms around Stent's waist as though trying to crush him in a mechanical bear hug. As Mornon tried to lift Stent off his feet, Stent in his turn kept up the relentless hail of blows to the top of Mornon's head.
The metallic savagery reeled backward and forward, with neither combatant gaining the advantage. Steel claws extended from the ends of Mornon's arms. He seemed to be trying to force them into the side seams of Stent's chest armor and penetrate it that way. Stent began to twist and turn, seeking to break the grip. When that failed, he tried another tack. The end of his right arm swiveled, and a plate opened to give access to a limpet ring. He clamped that to the side of Mornon's headpiece and started feeding raw plasma directly into the man's armor. The pain must have been unimaginable. Mornon had not cut off his voice amplifier, and his screams were horrific. Despite the plasma, which must have been burning him alive, his retractable claws continued to scrabble desperately at Stent's armor. Finally, they seemed to find a purchase. He was able to insert the tips into the seam between the chest plates. He threw himself backward seeking to widen the gap by pure force. Stent also screamed. Mornon began to feed power through his claws, directly into the interior of Stent's suit. For long minutes the two of
