Transmaniacon by John Shirley Read Free Book Online Page A

highest—
    â€”That’s when the explosion came, flinging fragments of fifty-foot-thick transparent plasglass to spin like falling stars, down into the darkness. The explosive charge had been set at the apex of the palace tubeway’s steepest climb, leaving a gap from which the palace at last ended its endless circuit, fired like a bullet up and out, joyously freed into a heavy headwind imposing stress it was not built to take. It came apart neatly.
    Nosing downward, the palace fragmented into spirals and gleaming shards, trailing bright smokes and distant shrieks. The tubeway suddenly lost the nulgrav support which had been generated by the interminable transit of the palace within it; now empty it tumbled close behind. The palace’s lights extinguished a moment before it entered the darkness of the chasm, so Ben did not see its impact. But he heard it, even from inside the fly-car. The air rang and reverberated for several minutes.
    â€œThey’re all dead,” Gloria murmured, gazing out the back window. “All of them!” she repeated, more astonished than remorseful.
    Teeth grating, striving for control, Ben asked, “Who set that charge?”
    Fuller ignored him and stared ahead, into night.
    It was then that Ben knew he would not surrender what he had stolen to the man who paid him to steal it.
    Using two fingers of his right hand, working out of sight below the control panel, Ben set his needler on lethal.
    When Fuller turned, to speak to the others in the rear of the fly-car, Ben fired point blank at the back of his head.

CHAPTER TWO
Las Vegas More Than Ever

    Fuller slumped forward. Before he’d struck the control panel Ben cut the cabin lights. The sudden darkness was diluted only by the faint starlight. There were hoarse shouts from the rear cabin; someone had seen Fuller fall, and Ben could hear them slowly working their way forward. He ducked under the shelf of the control panel, plucked out his penlight and switched it on. The panel had no lower casing; its wires and circuitry were exposed. He reached up, hesitated, then yanked the automatic homing device from its socket and smashed it against the bulkhead.
    Ben was pitched back suddenly against the frame of the control panel as the fly-car dropped like a stone. He had banged his head, he was dizzy, and Fuller’s body was flopped half onto him. With a groan he fought off dizziness and G-force, shoved Fuller aside, flicked the control to manual, and manipulated the steering stick, which he could see outlined dimly against the star-speckled windshield. The car pulled out of its dive, whined, and leveled off. But he could not be sure of their altitude; they might smack into a mesa at any instant. For all he knew they could be three feet off the ground. He pulled himself onto a chair and listened. He could no longer hear the bikers approaching. Apparently they’d been thrown by the sudden dive. He made a quick decision and set the dials.
    In seconds, the nulgrav car settled to earth. Outside, a sliver of the moon shone over squat pines and uneven outcroppings of rock.
    A noise from the rear: They were coming. He reached under the panel, pulled a solid-state component from its socket, slipped it into his waistband, grabbed an overhead beam and swung feet first to slip down the hatch that had opened automatically when they had landed.
    On the ground below he stumbled on a rock, swore, scrabbled on hands and knees out from under the car, his palms scraped by the coarse desert sands. Finally he stood and turned to face the fly-car as the cabin lights were switched on. He shuddered. The light glowing from the simulated fly’s eye seemed to give insectoid life to the machine.
    He drew his needler and leveled it at the hatch. And waited.
    Ben’s eyes adjusted rapidly, and he could make out three figures crawling stealthily toward him. He switched on his penlight and aimed the needler.
    The bikers blinked in the small,