“How so?”
“I stick to what I’m best at. I don’t try to be the best at everything, like you do.”
“I’m beginning to see that Geronimo was right when he told me that arguing with you is like talking into the wind.”
“Ornery redskin. That sounds like him.”
“He said that you have a habit of throwing our words back at us. Only when you say them, they make no sense.”
Blade had made up his mind. “Listen up,” he ended their verbal donnybrook. “We can’t do it here. Too close to the throne room. We’ll let them take us to a lower level, to the holding cells or the dungeon or wherever they plan to torture us, and make our move then.”
“Just say the word, big guy,” Hickok said.
“One thing,” Yama said. “I would urge we do it quietly. Shots will bring others, and we don’t want that.”
“I agree,” Blade said.
“In that case, maybe Hickok should stand back and let us do the fighting.”
Blade laughed in surprise. It was rare for Yama to crack a joke. “I hadn’t thought of that. What do you say, Nathan?”
“I could kick both of you,” Hickok said.
CHAPTER 45
The Indrian was smart. He took them in the elevator one at the time, first Blade, then Yama, and finally Hickok. On each trip the Warriors were surrounded by a press of Ganairabs to prevent them from acting up.
Blade didn’t get a good look at the control panel but he was sure they were a dozen or so levels underground. A narrow corridor brought them to wooden double doors. He expected to find barred cells on the other side, but he was wrong.
“What in the world?” Hickok blurted.
A high-walled room stretched for hundreds of feet, with long tables flanked by stools along both sides. Of more interest were the items on the tables; a host of beakers and vials, along with microscopes, incubators, centrifuges and more, most of which Blade didn’t recognize. Humans and hybrids in white coats were busy at work. Many gave the demigods nervous looks, then quickly went back to work.
“They brought us to a laboratory?” Yama said in puzzlement.
“I don’t like the smell of this,” Hickok said.
Neither did Blade. When Dhurga told them she was going to ‘drain their brains’, he’d envisioned being tortured. He should have known the Lords of Kismet would use more sophisticated techniques.
The Warriors were led down an aisle. At the far end, a tall man in a white lab coat, his hair speckled with grey, turned from an analyzer, stiffened, and hastened toward them.
The Indrian raised an arm, and the Batuan and the phalanx of Ganairabs came to a halt.
“Now?” Hickok whispered.
“No,” Blade said.
The man with the speckled hair flashed a smile and bowed obsequiously. He listened to the Indrian, who pointed at the Warriors several times, bobbing his head now and again.
“Getting’ his orders,” Hickok muttered.
Facing them, the man smiled. “Hello. I am Dr. Singh. I have been instructed to fulfill the magnificent and all-wise Dhurga’s wishes because of my fluency in your language.”
“Kiss butt much?” Hickok said.
“I am the chief of scientists in this section,” Dr. Singh said proudly. “I am honored to serve.”
“Which section would that be?” Blade was curious to learn.
“Human Analytics.”
“You analyze people how?” Hickok said.
“Our research embraces a wise spectrum,” Dr. Singh said. “From biological sublimation to chemical compounds to brain function and conditioning.”
“What the dickens is sublimation?”
“A technical term we use for the digestive process,” Dr. Singh said.
“You mean what folks eat?”
“No. What the Lords eat.”
“But they eat people,” Hickok said in disgust.
“Among other things, yes.”
“And the conditioning?” Blade said.
“Any and all forms of mental subjugation,” Dr. Singh blithely answered.
“In other words,” Yama said, gazing about them, “you come up with ways for Dhurga to enjoy tastier meals and better control her subjects.”
Dr. Singh beamed. “Simply phrased, but yes, that’s our function, exactly.”
“You son of a bitch,” Hickok said.
“Please. Don’t take offense,” Dr. Singh said, sounding hurt. “It’s my job. Nothing more.”
“Do you like your work, Doctor?” Blade asked.
“I find it challenging,” Dr. Singh replied. “At times it can be quite fascinating. Not long ago, for instance, the great lady required that we perfect a means of making human flesh taste like eel. She is quite fond of eel meat, you see, but it can be difficult to come by. Human flesh, on the other hand, is abundant. So we developed a means of altering human glutamate levels and enhancing the umami so that human flesh closely resembles eel.”
“To do that,” Blade said, “you’d have to work with human flesh, as you call it.”
“Of course.”
“Where did you get the flesh? From a morgue?”
Dr. Singh laughed. “Don’t be preposterous. The Lords like their meat fresh.”
Hickok looked appalled. “So you took somebody and cut them up?”
“As we would any other meat, yes,” Dr. Singh said.
“How many?” Blade said.
“Sorry?”
“How many people did you cut up before you got the taste right?”
Dr. Singh waved his hand dismissively. “I didn’t count them. Three or four dozen in that, I seem to recall. It took a lot of research and testing on our part.”
“Goody for you,” Hickok said, and turned to Blade. “Now? I want to so bad.”
Reluctantly, Blade shook his head.
“Damn,” Hickok said. “Don’t take forever.”
CHAPTER 46
What are you two talking about?” Dr. Singh wanted to know.
“I was wondering how you can cut up your fellow human beings and feed them to creatures who have set themselves up as our lords and masters,” Blade said.
“But that’s the whole point,” Dr. Singh said. “They are our masters. They are better than us in every way. They’re more intelligent. They’re stronger. Their life spans are measured in millennia while our are measured in mere years.”
“These critters?” Hickok said with a snort of derision, bobbing his chin at the Indrian.
“Of course not. The demigods can’t compare to our true Lords. You had an audience with Dhurga, I was told. You’ve seen for yourselves how splendid she is in every way.”
“What do you use for a brain?” Hickok said. “She’s a
