The Quest of the DNA Cowboys Read online

  The Quest of the DNA Cowboys

  The DNA Cowboys Trilogy

  Book I

  Mick Farren

  A Mayflower Original

  Copyright © Mick Farren 1976

  Content

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  It was inevitable that they should up and leave Pleasant Gap. The most the people could say, and they said it often, was that Pleasant Gap was a good old town.

  Good old town really summed it up. Pleasant Gap was built on one of the most stable points in the fabric, it nestled in a fold of the grey elevations that the people of Pleasant Gap liked to call the hills. There were maybe fifty houses, frame buildings with wooden shingles, front porches and neat front gardens with well-tended lawns and flowers. Then there was the church, Eli's Store, Jackson's Repair Shop, and down at the end of the main street, a couple of bars and, although nobody mentioned it in polite company, Miss Ettie's Sporting House, which must have been visited by every man in town at one time or another.

  Beyond Miss Ettie's was the railroad track. Of course, the railroad didn't go anywhere, just ran around a fold in the hills and came back again. The main use of the railroad, apart from reminding people what time it was, was that the two boxcars concealed the faraday cages that hooked into the transporter beam from Stuff Central.

  Pleasant Gap had a consumer contract with Stuff Central which gave them just about everything they needed, but the trouble was that a lot of people in town didn't like to see their cans of dog food, bolts of cloth, and new work shoes appear out of nothing in a flash of static. It reminded them too much of the wild things that happened in other places. And so, every morning the train chugged out of town empty, and every after­noon it chugged back in full of supplies.

  These supplies were unloaded and delivered to Eli's Store where people then went and bought what they wanted with the money they picked up from the Welfare Bank.

  This system worked fine, except that every year, when the Stuff contract had to be renegotiated, Stuff Central kept putting pressure on the town council to take more and more stuff. Eli would bitch and complain about how he would have to reduce prices and how that would be bad for business, and then the citizens would complain about the amount of stuff that they were expected to use up. Jed McArthur and his cousin Cal would sit on Eli's porch and complain to each other about just how many motor mowers a man was expected to keep in his tool shed.

  That was about the extent of the troubles of Pleasant Gap, and the calm, placid life was due mostly to the huge stasis generator, as big as two city blocks, which stood, hidden by a grove of pines, down below the railroad track. It drew power straight from the fabric, and hummed away to itself all day and night keeping things in Pleasant Gap as they ought to be.

  There hadn't been any trouble in Pleasant Gap for a long, long time. No disruptor had come near them in living mem­ory, and the even pattern of life was rarely interrupted. Occasionally a small rupture would appear in a garden or the main street, but nothing worse than you could maybe catch your foot in. Once, a few years back, an ankylosaurus had wandered down Yew Street, but Ma Hoffman had chased it with a broom, and it had lolloped off into the hills. Apart from these little anomalies, the generator kept things pretty much as the people of Pleasant Gap wanted them.

  Life in Pleasant Gap was safe, well regulated, but, to some, crushingly monotonous, and it was more than likely the mon­otony that started them having thoughts of moving out.

  It was Billy who first brought it up. Billy liked people to call him Captain Oblivion, but most people called him Billy. It was a great disappointment. He felt his thin good looks and hard penetrating eyes merited a better title. Billy was secretly very vain.

  He and his buddy Reave were lying in the back room of McTurk's Bar with the alphaset cranked up past euphoria. Reave was the stockier, more solid of the two. In another age he would have been a farmer. It was the middle of the day, nobody was about, and Billy was bored.

  'I'm bored.'

  His voice was slurred. It was very hard to talk against an alphaset running at full power. Reave rolled over slowly, and pushed his long greasy hair out of his eyes.

  'What's the matter?'

  'I'm bored.'

  'Bored?'

  'Bored.'

  'So let's go down to the tracks, and watch the train come in.'

  'We must have watched the train come in maybe a thousand times.'

  'So? Let's go watch it again.'

  'Who needs it?'

  Reave shrugged and said nothing. Billy was always having these fits of discontent, it didn't pay to take them too seriously. After a while another thought struck him.

  'We could go down to Miss Ettie's.'

  'Why?'

  'I dunno, have a few drinks, get laid. It's something to do.'

  'Maybe.'

  There was another long silence, and then Billy stretched out and hit the off button on the alphaset, and their nervous systems came down with a bump.

  'Shit, what did you do that for?'

  Billy sat up. He had that kind of crazy look that people get when they've been soaking up alphas for too long.

  'Let's split.'

  Reave scratched his leg.

  'That's what I said. Let's go down to Miss Ettie's.'

  'I don't mean go to Miss Ettie's or the railroad track. Fuck Miss Ettie's and the railroad track. I mean split the town, leave Pleasant Gap and go somewhere else.'

  Reave frowned and scratched his head.

  'Yeah? Where? A man can get himself killed or lose his mind out there in the wild lands.'

  Billy walked over to the window and stared out.

  'A man could lose his brain hanging out in a town, like this.'

  Reave shrugged.

  'It's easy enough, living in Pleasant Gap.'

  Billy looked at Reave's placid, easygoing face and began to get annoyed.

  'Sure it's easy. It's just that nothing happens. It just goes on, day after day.'

  'So what do you want to do about it?'

  'I want to get out of here.'

  'Why?'

  'There's got to be something out there that's better than this.'

  Reave looked doubtful.

  'What?'

  Billy shrugged.

  'How the fuck should I know until I find it?'

  'So you want to set off looking for something, and you don't know what it is?'

  'Right.'

  'And you want me to come with you?'

  'If you want to.'

  'You've got to be crazy.'

  'Maybe. Are you going to come?'

  Reave hesitated for a moment, hitched up his dungarees an
d grinned.

  'When do we leave?'

  They spent the rest of the day going round town telling their friends and buddies that they were leaving. Their friends and buddies shook their heads and told them that they were crazy. After they'd left, the friends and buddies all shook their heads and told each other that Billy and Reave had always been no good.

  Billy and Reave finally wound up at Miss Ettie's Sporting House, saying a special goodbye to some of the whores. The whores looked at them thoughtfully, but didn't shake their heads and say they were crazy.

  The next morning saw them bright and early inside Eli's Store, clutching their final payments from the Welfare Bank. Eli shuffled out from behind the counter rubbing his hands together.

  'Hear you boys are leaving town.'

  'That's right, Mister Eli.'

  'Nobody leaves this town, can't recall anybody leaving in years.'

  'We're going to do it, Mister Eli.'

  'Rather you than me, boys. It's supposed to be pretty dan­gerous out there. You wouldn't catch me going out into the wild lands. A couple of years ago a drifter came in on the train . . .'

  Billy interrupted.

  'The train doesn't go anywhere, Mister Eli. It just goes round in a circle.'

  Eli appeared not to hear. Nobody in town was sure whether Eli was deaf, or just didn't want to listen to anything that conflicted with his own ideas.

  'This old boy came in on the train, and the stories he told. You can't count on nothing out there. If you drop something you can't even count on it falling to the ground, you won't even know if the ground is going to be there from one minute to the next.'

  Billy grinned.

  'We'll take a chance on it, Mister Eli.'

  Eli stroked his bald head.

  'That's as maybe, but I can't stand here all day chatting with you boys. Did you want something?'

  Billy nodded patiently.

  'We want some stuff, Mister Eli, we want some stuff for our trip.'

  Eli shuffled vaguely round the store.

  'Plenty of stuff here, boys. That's what I'm here for. Stuff's my business.'

  Billy and Reave wandered up and down the shelves and displays, picking things up and dumping them on the counter.

  'One leather jacket, two pairs of jeans, two shoulder bags, a pair of cowboy boots.'

  'You got any camping rations?'

  The old man stacked a pile of packets on the counter.

  'How about stasis machines? You got a couple of porta-pacs?'

  Eli peered at a high shelf.

  'Don't have much call for them.'

  Billy began to get impatient.

  'Have you got any?'

  'Don't take that tone with me, lad. I think I've maybe two of them somewhere.'

  He picked up two chrome boxes about the size of a half pound box of chocolates, and blew the dust off them.

  'I knew I had some somewhere. Is there anything else?'

  'Yeah. You got any guns?'

  'Guns? I haven't been asked for a gun in a long time. I've got some shotguns, and a couple of sporting rifles.'

  Reave glanced at Billy.

  'I don't much fancy toting a rifle all over the place.'

  Billy looked at Eli.

  'You got any hand guns?'

  Eli scratched his head.

  'I think I've got a couple of reproduction Navy Colts some­where in the back.'

  The old man shuffled out. Billy looked round the store. Its dark, dusty, cluttering interior seemed to stand for everything that was driving him to leave Pleasant Gap. Old Eli came back holding a pair of long-barrelled revolvers from another age. He placed them on the counter beside the other things. He reached under the counter.

  'I've got two belts here. They have holsters that will take the guns, and some sort of do-hickey that will hold the porta-pacs. Reckon you'll need them.'

  Billy picked up one of the belts, strapped it round his hips, and picked up one of the pistols. He spun it on his index finger, dropped it into the holster, and drew it in a single fluid motion. He grinned at Reave.

  'Neat, huh?'

  Reave nodded.

  'Neat.'

  Billy turned back to Eli.

  'Okay old man, how much is all this stuff?'

  Eli stood calculating under his breath.

  'Three hundred and seventeen, boys.'

  Billy pulled a roll of notes out of his shirt pocket.

  'We'll give you three hundred. Call it a cash discount.'

  Eli grunted.

  'You'd make a poor man of me, but I'll do it, seeing as how you're leaving.'

  Billy handed the old man three one hundred bills.

  'Nice to do business with you, old man.'

  They stuffed the food, spare clothes and ammunition into the shoulder bags and strapped the gun belts round their hips. Billy pulled on his new cowboy boots, and shrugged into his leather jacket.

  'How do I look, Reave old buddy?'

  'Heavy.'

  Billy pushed his fingers through his curly black hair.

  'Just one more thing, old man. You got any sunglasses?'

  Eli placed a pair of dark glasses on the counter.

  'You can have those, son. Call them a going away present.'

  Billy grinned.

  'Thanks, Mister Eli.'

  He put the glasses on. They seemed to make his pale face look even sharper under the mass of black hair.

  'I guess we're about ready.'

  Reave nodded.

  'It looks like it.'

  'So long, Mister Eli,'

  Eli shook his head.

  'You boys have got to be crazy.'

  Chapter 2

  She/They floated free across the smooth chequered plane of Her/Their control zone. The light, ordered by Her/Their passing, shone brightly but without apparent source, casting no shadows except for a pale smudge below where Her/Their feet hung over the smooth surface.

  Slowly She/They drifted forward, and although no other being heard, the motion was silent, and although no one watched, She/They adopted the regular triple form. The Trinity. The three identical women, who looked as one and moved as one. Their slim erect figures were concealed by the white ankle-length cloaks that swayed gently with their motion, each in identical folds to the other two. Her/Their heads were encased in silver helmets with high crests and plates that curved round to cover the nose and cheek bones, leaving dark slits through which Her/Their eyes glittered steadily.

  The control plain stretched, in regular dividing squares, uniformly to the horizon. Overhead the sky was bright, cloud­less and a perfect white. Only a faint, tumbling, distant haze where sky and plain met gave evidence that Her/Their power to control was finite, limited by distance, and around the zone were the twisting chaos fringes.

  She/They halted and appeared to gaze intently at a point on the dark, twisting fringe. At the point of Her/Their gaze the dark area appeared to expand, stretch out into the plain and rise a little into the sky.

  'Disruption.' The word seemed to hang in the air displacing the silence.

  'Possible rupture,' a phrase took its place.

  'Freudpheno possible.'

  The structure of the turbulence at the horizon changed; it began to revolve forming an almost regular circle. The centre of the circle began to assume spatial depth. The silence that had resumed after the passing of the word was filled by a low hum that seemed to originate from the growing tube on the horizon.

  More words cut across the hum.

  'Freudpheno imminent.'

  The hum grew louder, became a roar, and suddenly, straight from the mouth of the tunnel rushed a herd of rhinoceroses, close packed and charging straight for the triple form of Her/Them. The surface of the plain trembled under the rhinos' armoured weight. In their wake the fabric of the zone rose in boiling moiré patterns.

  The centre unit of Her/Them raised the hand that held the energy wand. A yellow stinger of light flashed towards the rhinoceroses, who slowed to a halt
and stood for a moment blinking, and then turned and trotted back the way they had come.

  She/They lowered the energy wand, and watched as the animals disappeared back into the fringes. More words occu­pied the silence of the zone.

  'Freudpheno returns.'

  'Disruption at fringe still gains level.'

  'Suspect proximate disturb module.'

  The frenzied churning on the horizon continued to grow and even gradually advance into the zone. In the centre of the turbulence a solid cylindrical object appeared. Slowly it began to advance into the zone.

  'Confirm disturb module.'

  The module moved out into the zone, its blue metalflake body half buried in the surface of the plain. Its front end was an open intake that sucked in the fabric of the zone as it slid towards Her/Them. Behind it, it left a trail of swirling chaos that stretched back to merge with the fringes.

  She/They again raised the energy wand. The module came steadily towards Her/Them, like an open-mawed reptile cut­ting through the surface of the plain, its smooth, shining sides reflecting the swirling colours of its wake. The stinging of yellow light flashed again, but had no appreciable effect on the machine. The thin path of light widened to a broad band. The metalflake skin of the module changed from blue to a pale green, but it still kept on coming. The yellow band of light hardened into a deep flaming red. The module became a shining grey/white, but still maintained its steady forward motion.

  She/They experienced the novelty of horror as the band of light from the energy wand was forced, inexorably, up through the spectrum. Yellow, green, blue and finally violet, then fading and vanishing altogether.

  The module was upon Her/Them.

  As its gaping mouth engulfed Her/Them, the zone twisted and became unrecognizable. She/They was sucked into the interior of the module, losing form as Her/Their structure flowed and twisted, falling simultaneously in any number of directions, down through tunnels that squirmed in downward Möbius patterns, glowing with shifting pink, and faced with a soft cosmic tuck and roll.

  She/They had never before been caught in the path of a module, and found Her/Their self fighting against patterns that threatened to destroy the integration of Her/Their fabric.

  Desperately She/They pulled into a rough sphere to best withstand the pressures. As She/They managed to retain a grasp on Her/Their structure, the tunnels abruptly vanished, and, in total darkness, waves of hard energy washed over Her/Them. The environment seemed to contract and there was a sensation of falling, then suddenly everything mapped, and a phrase filled Her/Their consciousness.