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Dan felt the hand of Christeen tweak his left testicle。 He wasn't going anywhere for the moment。
'Open up；' called Fergus。 'It's important； honestly。'
'Best let him in； chief。' Elvis cranked the turncock and swung open the bunker door。 Fergus stepped inside； grinning broadly。
'Hope I'm not intruding。'
'Not a bit of it；' Rex helped him through the hatch。 'We have about four minutes to kill before the bomb drops。 We've been playing a game called 〃I spy with my little eye〃； except we seem to have run out of expletives to describe Dan。'
'Just four minutes； here in the nick of time； eh？'
'I doubt it；' Rex replied。 'But if you have had any hand in all this； then I will take some pleasure in knowing that you perish along with us。'
'You have a ready wit upon you； young man。' Fergus hastily addressed himself to Elvis。 'Mr Presley；' he puffed。 'You really shouldn't be here； you know。 It really would be better for all concerned if you just went straight back to 1958 and dodged the draft。 As we suggested in the first place。'
'No way；' said the Big E； shaking his head vigorously。
'Easy there； chief；' howled the sprout。
'Can't you reason with him？' Fergus addressed the rear of Presley's head。 The sprout for once had nothing to say。
'I screwed up once already。 This time I gotta make it right。 I got me the Ant…eye…Christ here； for Chrissakes。 No offence to the Good Lord intended there。'
Fergus perused the bound lama。 'He's much smaller than he looks on TV；' he observed。
'But I ain't no frigging Antichrist。 You tell him。'
'Shut your mouth； fella。'
'Really； this is getting us nowhere。 Rex； what do you think？'
'Rex？' said Rex。 'I don't know you； do I？'
'But I know you。 All Phnaargos knows you。 You're a big star。'
'A big star？'
'A real crowdpleaser。 I shouldn't be saying this because we're probably on camera； but it would be a sad day if we were to lose you； Rex。'
'Butt out of here； Shaman。'
'No； hang about。 I want to hear more。 A big star； did you say？'
'I'll tell you everything； but not here。'
'Yes；' Dan agreed； 'this is all most interesting； we should go somewhere more fortable and discuss it。 My place； perhaps？'
'Button it； schmucko。'
'Well somewhere； and now。'
Elvis chewed upon his curly lip。 'We really should； chief；' his cerebral panion agreed。 'Or at least we should。'
Elvis dithered and dathered。 'I just don't know。' He just didn't know。
'Nuke them out；' said Gloria Mundi。
'But your brother； dear。'
Gloria paused。 'Bugger him。'
'But dear； blood is thicker than water and all that。 And if we are going to build a better world surely we must do it with passion。 Or we will be no better than。。。'
'Than men。'
'Exactly。'
'But we may never get as good a chance as this again。'
'But he is your brother； dear。 Flesh of your flesh。'
Gloria hung her beautiful head。 'You are right。 It would be murder。'
'Exactly； we must rule with love； care and feeling。'
'We must； we must。'
'Even if； when all is said； he is just another man。'
'Even if。'
'Representing； in microcosm； all men。'
'Even if。'
'All men with their shallowness； lust； greed and craving for power。'
'Even if。' This 'even if'； although looking the same as the previous 'even ifs'； had about it a more prolonged and thoughtful quality。
'Even if he did crap in our bidet。'
Gloria gave Ms Vrillium a very knowing look。
'I'll nuke them out then； shall I dear？'
'Best to； eh？' Gloria ran the intro。
Over the hills； but not a great way off； was another vast concrete pyramid。 It was the headquarters of number two in the Big Three。
L。 Ron Hubbard the twenty…third lounged on the fy rear…ends of a dozen nubile lady acolytes。 As with the previous twenty…two L。 Rons； who had gone before him to wherever it is those lads go to； this one was rotund and ruddy and bore a striking resemblance to the late and legendary Andy Divine。 Plumping himself upon those who were grateful for it； he nodded towards she whose job it was to work the controller。 And then he watched the wall screen with an eagerness which many might just have considered a smidgenet unhealthy。
And way up over on the other side of town； Pope Joan knelt alone in the viewing chapel of Vatican City。 Actually it wasn't really a city at all； just another dirty great concrete bunker； but city says something which bunker just can't seem to。 For Joan there were never any pleasures of the flesh。 Such were strictly proscribed。 To fall into such iniquity would be to fall from the true faith。 When you fall heir； or in her case heiress； to a legacy of pious turpitude； which includes within its holy ranks such exemplars as Pope Alexander VI and Innocent VIII； you have something to live up to。 Mind you； the weekly burnings were； as they had always been； something of a turn…on。 And although the Dalai wouldn't actually be broadcasting live from his bunker prison； the mere thought of his forthing immolation sent pure frissons of pleasure all around where the rosaries dangled。
She genuflected； whacked herself a couple of times across the naked shoulders with a plastique flagrum and pumped up the volume。
Down in the bunkers； Mr and Mrs Joe Public whacked into today's deliveries and kept on watching that screen。 It was a bit early in the day for all this mega…excitement； but they were feeling fine about the whole thing。 Today's deliveries had been suitably laced for the occasion。
Gloria's face filled the screen。 Gloriously。 Her green eyes were red…rimmed and welled with tears。 Her exquisite cheeks streaked。 Her lipstick smudged； just so。 The makeup department had really excelled themselves。 'It's now an hour since the telepathic munication from our beloved Dalai Lama。 My dear friends； I'm lost for words。 My grief is your grief。 For if the loss of one of the world's greatest figures isn't enough in itself to fill our hearts with sorrow； the ghastly news that I have just received； and which I now convey to you； is more terrible yet。 It was previously believed that the Devianti was a separatist group acting upon their own insane dictates。 But this isn't the case。 The terrorists are in the pay of one of the other networks。 Even now another kidnapping is in progress。 A Devianti death squad is penetrating the security of。。。' Gloria choked back a tear and blew her nose on a handkerchief of crepe de Chine。 Then the screen crackled and went dead。
L。 Ron Hubbard collapsed〃 into a turmoil of heaving buttocks。
Pope Joan pulled the plug from her flagrum。
'Joan；' screamed Hubbard。 'The treacherous。。。'
'Bastard。' Pope Joan finished the sentence。 'This means。。。'
'War； I should think。' Gloria pressed the firing button。
'You really are a genius； dear；' sighed Ms Vrillium。 'Do you think we should take to the shelters just to be on the safe side？'
'Now； why on Earth should we do that？ No…one is going to be shooting at us； now are they？'
Mungo Madoc buried his face in his hands； and said； 'Oh； calamity。'
27
。。。 the underground。 There's always an underground。 Tradition nurtured this one。 And the Book。 Because i