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'You saw something during this time？ Felt something？'
She was beautiful。 Her eyes the palest of blue。 The smile soft upon the full red mouth。 Her breath smelled of violets。 A golden glow surrounded her and her hand was upon his forehead。 Rex trembled。
'I can't remember。 I'm cold。'
He looked up。 The Lama was staring deeply into his eyes。 'It doesn't matter； Rex。 Ah； here es the nosebag。'
A dull body in station fatigues knocked and entered bearing a chrome tray。 He placed this on the desk and backed away； head bowed。
'For what we are about to receive；' intoned Dan； 'you can thank me in person。'
Ms Vrillium massaged Gloria's breasts。 'You're very tense； dear。'
Gloria looked up through half closed lids。 'Something is occurring。'
Ms Vrillium lowered herself on to Gloria's nakedness and chewed upon a blood…red nipple。 'What thing？' she asked between delicious bitings。 Gloria rolled back her head and gasped。
'Something big。 Something powerful。 I can feel it。 Ouch。 No； don't stop。' Ms Vrillium slid down Gloria's body。 Her long tongue flickering across the taut perfumed flesh； dwelling upon special places； savouring the exquisite tastes。 She thrust her face down between the outspread legs。 Gloria moaned； arched her back； her hands clawed the pillows。
The bedside console chimed。 'Hope I'm not interrupting anything。' The voice belonged to Dalai Dan。 'e straight up to my office will you？'
Gloria distinctly heard the undisguised chuckle before the line went dead。 'Bastard；' she shrieked。
Ms Vrillium broke surface。 'Sorry； dear。 Were you talking to me？'
Rex sought invisibility。 His sister looked far from cheerful。
'Gloria；' smiled Dan。 'And to what do I owe this pleasure？'
'You called me？'
'I did？ Oh yes； of course I did。'
Gloria was poised in the doorway。 She wore a jumpsuit wrought from some rubberized material。 A tight cap of likewise confection encased her head。 The boots were French calf； although Rex didn't know that。 The heels were of glass and lit from within。 Today's all…over colour； saving the boots； was crimson。 The effect was dramatic； to say the least。
'I want you to arrange another air car for your brother。 I want him issued with a stun suit and other appropriate items of self…protection。 He has a busy day ahead。 So； get your finger out； would be my specific advice to you at this time。'
'Hold on there；' Rex spoke with his mouth full。 Gloria made a pained expression。 'What do I want a stun suit for？ Where are you proposing to send me？'
'Special mission； Rex。 I want you to go back to the Hotel California。'
'Oh no。' Rex shook his head with some ferocity； spraying breakfast。 'Not this boy。 Not back there。'
'Be at peace there。' Dan raised a palm。 'You will be quite safe。 No danger to life and limb；'
'But they'll eat me。'
'Not this time。 You will e； as it were； under a flag of truce。 Do you know what that is？' Dan ignored Rex's shaking head。 'You will issue to the Devianti word of my personal amnesty。'
'Amnesty？' Gloria couldn't believe her ears。 'These are subversives。 They eat human flesh。'
'Are you questioning me； Gloria？' Rex saw the fire in the holyman's eyes。
'No。' Gloria turned away。 Rex watched her go。 His eyes remained fixed upon the open doorway。 This was no laughing matter。 These lunatics could get him killed。 And he just beginning to value life。 To consider possibilities。 He had seen the sky。 He looked up at the Dalai。
'The Devianti。 How could I convince them？'
Dan patted him upon the shoulder。 'You will find a way； my son。 You are a young man of infinite resource。 And you appear to have a charmed life。 My thoughts will go with you。' Rex had the feeling that they certainly would。
'Bring back Bloodaxe。 I don't care how you do it。' He handed Rex a transparent cube。 'It's all here。 The power…lines have now been programmed into the in…car。 You'll find the bonus to your liking。 Consider the pension plan； you might choose to retire tomorrow。'
Rex turned the cube in his hand。 This way lay madness。 He was putting his life on the line。 For what？ For credits？ But something pelled him。 It seemed like a soft voice whispering in his ear。 It said； 'Do it。'
'OK。' Rex shook the Dalai's outstretched hand。 'I'll do it。'
The oily…fingered engineer at the motorpool led Rex towards the air car。 'You will be bringing this one back？' he asked； eyeing Rex suspiciously。
Rex shrugged。 'Who knows？ The guidance system has definitely been reprogrammed； hasn't it？'
'It has now；' replied the demoted Maurice Webb； nursing certain tender parts which had received the unwele attention of security truncheons。 'Drive carefully； won't you？'
'Have another day。' Rex saluted and climbed into the cockpit。 He closed the canopy； slotted in the cube； eyed the eyespi。
The car lurched up into the overhanging gloom； above which； Rex now knew； was open sky。 His potential winnings filled the screen。 Rex's elementary knowledge of mathematics didn't enable him to 'name that sum'； but it looked very impressive indeed。 He used to have a calculator on his watch。 Rex tapped the moribund thing on his wrist。 Two…thirty it said。 The car droned on； creaking and rattling and performing certain stomach…turning manoeuvres； which Rex assumed correctly to be the product of inpetent reprogramming。 Finally it went into a steep incline and landed with a thud inside the pound of the Hotel California。
Rambo Bloodaxe didn't observe Rex's arrival。 He and his followers were knelt in prayer before the bewildered…looking man in the golden suit。 This fellow was staring vacantly into his cupped hands。 Here rested a green spheroid of vegetable extraction。
'Lord。' Rambo extended a platter of barbequed man meat。 'Will you take sup with us？'
Elvis Presley appeared to awaken from his trance。
'Where the fuck am I？' he asked； which was reasonable enough to his way of thinking。
'The Hotel California； Lord。'
'California？ California never looks like this。' Elvis clutched at his nose。 'This smells like Philadelphia。' Knowing nothing of W。 C。 Fields； that particular remark was lost upon the Devianti； amongst others。
'We are your servants； Lord。'
'Then cut the Lord crap； buddy。 I am the King。'
'It's definitely him； Rambo；' whispered Deathblade Eric。 'You were not incorrect in your assumptions。'
'He seems a trifle confused though；' Rambo replied。 'The temple lights are on but the congregation doesn't appear to have shown up。 The sideburns are a killer； though； and we all saw him materialize before us out of thin air。'
'Now see here； buddy； if this is one of those religious cult things then you have got the wrong boy。'
Rambo looked at Eric。 Eric just looked blank。 Rambo said； 'We are your disciples。'
'Disciples？ Fans； do you mean？ Shit； I've gotta be dreaming。 What the hell am I on？'
'Dreaming；' Eric nodded。 'Men are but the dreams of the Gods； I've read that。'
'Listen； I gotta use a phone； get Colonel Tom to send a limo or something。'
'Someone should take down his words。' Eric wrung his hands。 'The Revolution begins。 Although we may not understand his words future gen