Day of the Dogs Page 2

  "You see, my friend," said Asdoel Zo, putting a furry arm over Middenface's shoulder, "I suffer from a range of allergies."

  "Oh, now, isn't that a shame," said Middenface, hastening to inject concern into his voice.

  "And the best efforts of the most highly paid homeopaths in the local galaxy have failed to budge these allergies."

  "That's dreadful, dreadful," said Middenface. Asdoel Zo was leading him across the balcony. Johnny followed, silent, a step behind them.

  "In particular," said Zo, "I'm allergic to dust. So I make a point of trying to achieve and maintain a dust-free environment."

  "Well, of course, naturally, very sensible," said Middenface.

  "Which is why I keep this place scrupulously well hoovered," said Zo, releasing Middenface's shoulder to gesture at a small vacuum cleaner robot that buzzed past them at shoulder level. The vacuum cleaner was about the size of a large bird. It darted through a gap between the tall windows and disappeared into the shadows of the house. "It is also why I insist on every visitor to my planet receiving a shower, followed by a good thorough vacuum cleaning when they first land."

  "Quite right too," said Middenface.

  "And those vacuum cleaners my people use are very powerful."

  "Oh yes, they certainly are that," agreed Middenface enthusiastically.

  "And my people wield them with enthusiasm. Sometimes too much enthusiasm. Which is why you suffered a certain... unfortunate loss of hair on your private parts."

  "Never mind, Mr Zo. Never mind," said Middenface. "I've got plenty more where that came from. But if you don't mind, there isn't any need to give me another hoovering. I'm not the dusty type. No dust on me."

  Asdoel Zo chuckled, though his grey-green eyes were cold. "Do you know what dust is, Mr McNulty?"

  "Human skin cells," said Johnny Alpha. Middenface glanced at him, surprised at this sudden interruption. "That's what dust mostly is. At least, in places where you have a lot of humans."

  "Exactly correct, Mr Alpha," said Asdoel Zo. He patted Middenface on the back again. "So you see, Mr McNulty, you are dusty. All human beings are. You're emanating a constant plume of dust as you shed your skin cells, like invisible smoke rising from your body."

  "Ugh," said Middenface, shuddering. Then a sudden musical note rang out, echoing through the spacious shadowy balcony.

  "Excuse me," said Zo, digging in the capacious pocket of his shorts and producing a phone. The phone was a golden rectangle, as thin as a sheet of paper, hinged in the middle. Zo opened it along the hinge and pressed it to his ear. He glanced at Johnny and Middenface. "Forgive me, gentlemen, I've got to take this." He turned and strolled to the far end of the balcony, out of earshot, and began talking into the phone.

  Middenface looked at Johnny. "He's a nice chap, isn't he? All those billions in his bank account haven't affected him at all. Just a nice, down to earth guy, don't you think, Johnny?"

  By way of reply Johnny sarcastically murmured "You must be mistaken, Mr Zo. I didn't say anything."

  "What?" said Middenface. Then he realised that Johnny was imitating him. "What do you mean by that?"

  "I thought you were going to give him a piece of your mind."

  "I reconsidered."

  "Reconsidered? I thought it was called grovelling," said Johnny Alpha with a grin.

  "Now, now, Johnny. There's no harm in being nice, and Mr Zo is an important man. It does well to stay on the right side of him."

  Asdoel Zo came back across the balcony, padding along the wooden floor on his bare feet. His call was evidently concluded and the phone back in his pocket. Instead he was holding a Cuban cigar. Blue smoke spooled from the glowing end, spreading a fruity scent across the balcony.

  "Sorry about that, gentlemen. Now come along inside and we can have a proper discussion." Johnny and Middenface followed Asdoel Zo as he crossed the balcony towards the windowed front of his house, the odour of powerful marijuana drifting back to them from his cigar. "That's the biggest wee blunt I've ever seen," whispered Middenface.

  The windows in front of them were overlapping panels of glass that automatically slid under each other, like a deck of cards, allowing access at any point. Now the windows sensed the approach of the three men and slid open. They stepped through out of the cool shadows of the balcony into the quiet splendour of the house. Immediately inside the entrance three more girls in gardening uniform, all blondes, were busy working on a large indoor planting, a raised bed of ferns and brightly coloured orchids with a gently pulsing fountain set in a ring of stones in the centre.

  It seemed to Middenface's somewhat overheated eye that this trio of gardeners were wearing even less than the girls installing the cactus outside. Johnny wasn't looking at the women. Instead his alert gaze had shifted instantly to something moving in the corner of the room. On two tall perches fashioned from slender metal pipes, stood a pair of birds. Parrots with gorgeous scarlet and emerald green plumage. The birds stirred on their perches, inspecting their master and his visitors.

  The parrots were the only living animals in the room. The rest were emphatically dead. The large space was devoted to hunting trophies. Dozens of stuffed and mounted heads of beasts hung on the high walls, with small hovering vacuum cleaners, like the one they'd seen outside dodging amongst them. One of the machines flew too close to one of the parrots on its perch. The bird flew at Middenface, a blur of dazzling tropical plumage.

  "It's all right, gents," said Asdoel Zo, sucking on his cigar. "He won't go far. He's a well trained pet." He exhaled a perfect smoke ring and turned to the trio of girls working on the planter. "Safira, would you mind getting a drink for my guests."

  "No, Mr Zo," said the girl, flashing a brilliant white smile. She wiped a hand across her forehead and hastened off into the depths of the large house.

  "Actually," said Zo, "Phoebe, Jan, we could probably do with some snacks as well. Nothing too major, we'll be having a meal later. Just some hors d'oeuvres to accompany the drinks."

  "Yes, Mr Zo," said the other two girls promptly, downing their trowels and hurrying off. Middenface realised that these women were all-purpose servants not just gardeners. He started speculating fretfully on just how all-purpose.

  Asdoel Zo's phone rang again and he sighed. "Once again, my apologies, gentlemen." He took the phone out of his pocket and moved away, puffing on his cigar as he spoke into the instrument. Middenface moved close to Johnny and murmured "Did you see those birds?"

  "The parrots?" said Johnny dryly.

  "No, not the bloody parrots. His gardeners-cum-jacks of all trades. Jills of all trades in this case. And a very nice bunch of jills they are. They're all knock-outs."

  "Keep your mind on your job and out of your pants," said Johnny. "Or out of their pants."

  "But Johnny. Just think about it. He can do anything he likes with them."

  "I reckon he can. The rich generally get to do whatever they like."

  "And they're crackers. Little beauties, all of them. And not simulated. Flesh and blood, not robotic. And I bet they're not even genetically modified." Middenface's voice was growing shrill and attenuated with envy. At that moment their host returned from the far end of the room where he'd been conversing in hushed tones. He snapped his phone shut and beckoned to them. "Come on in to my study, gentlemen."

  They walked through the doorway in the far wall, under a vast spreading set of antlers mounted on a mahogany plaque, into a small room decorated in a masculine style with a stone fireplace. There were several more hunting trophies on the wall, including three buffalo heads - a black one, a brown one and a startling white furred albino head with fearsome holographic eyes that seemed to follow the viewer around the room. There was an antique wooden desk of the roll-top variety and a red leather sofa with two matching chairs. Over the fireplace, which was stacked with wood ready for a fire, but was thankfully not in use on this warm summer's day, were several antique rifles. Middenface was familiar with the weapons from numerous movies he
'd seen as a boy, but he couldn't have named them. Johnny probably could.

  Middenface looked away from the rifles and stared up at the albino buffalo head. Its mad, pink eyes stared at him in a murderous rage. Middenface could swear he could still see the gleam of ferocious life flaring in their depths. "Ugly bugger," he said.

  Asdoel Zo chuckled. "Aren't those eyes something? I'm particularly proud of the way the taxidermist managed to make them look so lifelike. It's all hologram trickery of course."

  "Oh, of course," said Middenface. "They never had me fooled."

  "You should have seen what they were like in real life, bearing down on you at the business end of several tons of enraged mammal, charging full speed straight at you, hell bent on your destruction."

  "You shot him yourself?" said Johnny.

  "That I did. With a vintage Winchester 79."

  "Sounds a little lightweight for taking down an animal of that size," said Johnny.

  Zo glanced at Johnny in what might have been annoyance. "Of course I performed the coup de grace with a Sharps," he said.

  "That would do it," allowed Johnny.

  Asdoel Zo sank down on the leather sofa and gestured for his guests to sit in the adjacent armchairs. Middenface took his seat with trepidation, afraid that he might damage a valuable piece of antique furniture. But the chair was sturdy enough, although the leather seat generated an embarrassing farting noise as he sat down on it. Middenface crossed his legs, then uncrossed them again, tugging at the hem of his paper robe, afraid of exposing his wedding tackle to their prospective employer. "I don't suppose we can get rid of these ridiculous outfits, Mr Zo? And change into something a little more..."

  "Dignified and befitting a man?" said Asdoel Zo with a smile.

  "Yes, sir, Mr Zo, please," said Middenface.

  "Well I'll certainly see what we can do. There are a number of outfits available, all well hoovered and dust free. I picked up a selection on McLoughlin's World, where I went on the safari that yielded our friend up there." He nodded at the albino buffalo head. "McLoughlin's is a class act all the way. The clothes are perfect period pieces."

  "Period pieces?"

  "Yes. Just wait until you get into character."

  "Into character?" said Middenface.

  "Yes. It's quite a thrill. I'm sure we've got something that will fit you, and Mr Alpha too. Like I say, I snapped up a selection on McLoughlin's World. They were beautifully made and quite the bargain. I'll get the girls to look them out in just a minute." Zo was grinning with enthusiasm.

  "We didn't come here to play dress up," said Johnny Alpha. Asdoel Zo fell silent, his grin fading. Middenface wished Johnny hadn't spoken up like that. He shot his partner an annoyed glance. Couldn't he just for once be a little more tactful? Asdoel Zo stared at Johnny Alpha, his stony grey-green eyes locking coldly onto the mutant's eerie glowing gaze. The room fell silent and Middenface felt the contest of two powerful wills struggling for dominance. He cleared his throat. "Now Johnny, we're guests in Mr Zo's house. If he wants us to put on some wee costumes, there's no reason why we shouldn't..."

  "No," said Asdoel Zo, lifting a hand in the air and waving it as though to disperse smoke, although his cigar had already gone out. "No, Mr Alpha is right. You're not here to indulge my enthusiasm for one of the more colourful periods of Earth's ancient history. Ancient history has nothing to do with it." He glanced at the dead cigar in his hand, then threw it savagely into the fireplace. He rose from the sofa and stalked across the room towards the roll-top desk. Middenface wondered for a moment if he should get up too, but Johnny remained seated so he did too.

  Asdoel Zo stood with his hands on the desk. His face had assumed a faraway look. All trace of the genial host was gone. "Let's get down to business." There was a tormented, strangled, note in his voice, as if it pained him to speak. "I've asked you gentlemen here to do what you do best, to track down a vicious criminal and bring him back - dead or alive." Zo's voice subsided to a cracked whisper. "Preferably dead." He turned and looked at the two Strontium Dogs. "And you'll be rewarded if you succeed, gentlemen, very generously rewarded. I doubt anybody has ever provided you with the kind of pay-day Asdoel Zo can provide."

  Middenface felt a warm glow at the mention of money. But Johnny broke the spell by speaking up. "What's this fellow done that makes you think he deserves killing?"

  "What has he done?" said Asdoel Zo. He stared at Johnny blankly, as if the question was in a language that he didn't understand. He was silent for so long that Middenface began to squirm uncomfortably in his chair, which caused the leather seat to make the embarrassing farting noise again. Middenface hastily cleared his throat to cover the sound. "What Johnny means-"

  Asdoel Zo interrupted him in an icy voice. "I'll show you what the bastard's done," he said. He grabbed the handles on the roll-top desk and wrenched its lid open with a clatter. Inside the antique desk was an incongruous, high-tech computer console with glowing buttons. Asdoel Zo pressed one of the buttons and there was a deep, melodious tone, like a brass gong being struck somewhere deep in the house.

  Zo slammed the desk shut and turned back to Johnny and Middenface. "I'd like you to meet my family," he said. A section of the wood-panelled wall beside the fireplace slid open to reveal a doorway and through the doorway stepped a woman and two teenage children, both girls. They were dressed in formal black clothing, which contrasted tastefully with their healthy golden skin and the beautiful features the rich always seemed to possess, either through the efforts of genetic manipulation or cosmetic surgery. The girls had the same coppery hair as Asdoel Zo. The woman's hair was strikingly black and white striped. The beautiful trio came into the room and stood beside Zo at the desk.

  "This is my wife Kathleen and my children Jodi and Lorna," said Zo in an odd, husky voice.

  "Pleased to meet you," said Middenface. He was politely rising from his chair when he noticed Johnny urgently gesturing for him to stay put. Middenface sank back down, puzzled by Johnny's behaviour, but careful not to make the embarrassing noise.

  Asdoel Zo was staring at his wife and children with a strange intensity. They in turn gazed back at him with what looked like a blend of mild affection and polite interest. The silence in the room grew and grew, until Middenface felt himself beginning to sweat. It was just a man standing looking at his family, but somehow there was a terrible tension in the room.

  Finally, the newcomers broke the silence. "I love you, dear," said Kathleen, the wife. "I love you too, Daddy," chimed the older daughter. "You're my best friend, Dad," said the younger daughter.

  It was a perfect vignette of domestic contentment. Then suddenly Kathleen, a tall, beautiful woman with jade eyes and that zebra-striped hair, seemed to tremble. It was as if she had been seized by a vicious attack of fever. Her whole body shook, her skin seeming to crawl across her body. Then, to Middenface's astonishment, she flickered. Asdoel Zo let out an enormous sob and lunged at her.

  He went right through his wife, then right through his two children, like a man charging through mist. They were holograms, Middenface belatedly realised. The wife and kids were just projected images. Asdoel Zo stood gasping on the far side of them, then blundered back through the wraiths to the desk and the computer controls inside it. He touched another button and the woman and the two children disappeared.

  He slammed the desk shut with trembling hands. Then the man began to sob. Middenface glanced over at Johnny in embarrassment.

  Two of the gardening girls hurried in with trays of food, which they set aside as they rushed to embrace the sobbing man. The third girl stepped through the door with a tray of drinks and immediately sized up the situation. She too discarded her tray and threw herself into the group hug. Asdoel Zo suffered the attention of the women for a few moments, then waved them aside. He turned to Johnny and Middenface, his eyes red with weeping, his voice moist and unsteady.

  "I want you to find the man who killed my family. I want you to find him and make the bastard
pay."

  CHAPTER TWO

  TARGET TARKETTLE

  Night had settled over the desolate landscape. The only sound was the sighing of the wind and, deep in the distant canyons, the uncanny intermittent cries of the coyotes.

  Light flickered in the flames of a small campfire. In the glow of the campfire, the man called Charlie Yuletide lay wrapped in a threadbare blanket, using his saddle for a pillow, with his pistol lying close at his side, ready for instant use.

  Charlie Yuletide shifted restlessly under his blankets, then sat bolt upright, like a man who had seen a ghost. He reached under his blanket and drew something out.

  It wasn't a gun. It was his banjo. Charlie Yuletide strummed its resonant strings with his trembling hand. A melodious chord rose in the desert night. Then Charlie Yuletide began to sing.

  "Welcome back to our story, my friends. A story already begun in blood, that promises more blood when it ends. A story of Johnny Alpha and his loyal saddle mate and the mission they accepted that would determine their fate. When a man who had buried the ones he loved in the ground showed them the face of the killer who had yet to be found..."