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27
。。。 the underground。 There's always an underground。 Tradition nurtured this one。 And the Book。 Because it had all e so far。 It had to be seen through to the end。 We all had to know what was on the K carbon； in whatever form it was now hidden。 Of course rival factions split； reformed； resplit。 But at the core of them all was the certain knowledge that at the core of it all was some fabulous treasure just waiting。 So the conviction became obsession and in no time obsession became religion。 Some members of the underground became wholly convinced that some kind of cosmic warrior was ing； that he would unlock the secrets of the carbon and set the world to rights。 Some said he was here already； some that he would soon be born。 Others； and this includes the Devianti； split from the underground in the early years。 Developed this cult of the Born Again。 A sort of other Christ。 We let that one spread； put the wind up the Big Three。
The Suburban Book of the Dead
The missile Gloria despatched was the last of its breed。 A Sneaky Reekie。 Designed in the late nineties； its brethren had done a thorough job of laying waste to the greater part of the known world。 Dan had been saving it for a very special occasion。 It hedge…hopped； or it most certainly would have done； had there been any hedges extant for it to hop over。 Shall we say that it rubble…hopped？ It slunk out of the tradesman's entrance of the Nemesis Bunker； looked both ways to assure itself that it wasn't being observed； ducked into a Metro terminus； soared along a trackway； snook up a ventilation shaft； near the Tomorrowman Tavern； now undergoing extensive renovations。 Created a cloak of invisibility； through the adaptation of Einstein's Unified Field Theory； turned up Park Avenue and finally nuzzled its nuclear nose into the front parlour of the late Aunty Norma。 'Gotcha；' it said。 Loudly。
The switchboard （for why belabour the reader with a lot of sci…fi…hi…tech…hokum； regarding its multi…cellular； bio…embrionic jiggery…pokery） at Earthers Inc。 jammed。 Minor employees scurried up and down the membrane tubes。 Board members paced the lush and tufted carpetings。 One or two of the more highly…strung took the opportunity to fling themselves from upper windows。 Mungo Madoc sought divine guidance from He of the Nose Enormous。 But as is so often the case with deities； old Holy Hooter was being just a little backward in ing forward。 He was keeping out of this one。 At length； Mungo knelt； pinched his nostrils and took himself off to the lift。 For a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do。
Jason Morgawr met him on the boardroom landing。 The intense young Phnaarg had never looked more so。 'No warning；' he shrieked； 'well； not enough at any rate。 My team isn't ready。 This is really too much。 Really too much。'
Mungo brushed him aside。 'Are the other board members within？'
'Those that still remain amongst the living。'
Mungo sighed as only he could sigh and ordered the door aside。
'Gentlemen；' he declared； although the appellation seemed inappropriate to describe the bunch of jibbering ninnies now huddled at the far end of the Goldenwood table。 'Please be seated。 There is no； and I repeat； no need to panic。'
The unmagical mushroom cloud rose above Aunty Norma's bunker。 At 500 feet it flattened against the artificial cloud cover； which had been expressly designed to cope with such eventualities。 The poisonous residues reflected downwards and cutaways。 The long…range cameras atop Nemesis which had been recording the great event； retracted into their blast…proof housings。
'We'll meet again； don't know where； don't know when；' sang the Lamarettes； clad soberly in black armbands； although very little else。
'And remember；' Gloria mopped at a tear and smiled bravely； 'if you are in the latter stages of pregnancy or even giving birth at this very moment； give your EYESPI a little wave。 Because you could be carrying the next incarnation of the Living God King himself。 Here today and here tomorrow； that is the watchword of Buddha…vision。 Tomorrow belongs to you。'
'For I know we'll meet again； some sunny day。。。' Fade out。
L。 Ron Hubbard's glory girls freighted their precious cargo at great speed towards the Chosen One's thinking quarters。 Scores of vacuum…eyed young men； with swish black suits； clutching antique filofaxes to their bosoms； followed at the double。 'Arm 'em up！' trilled the portly Thetan。 'Run every son…of…a…bitch through the E meter and send 'em out。' The pale young men shouted into their radio…phones and did what they could to add to the general confusion。
'And get my chef down here；' L。 Ron continued； 'I want to discuss lunch。'
Pope Joan stayed put。 Popes don't rush about in panic； it simply isn't done。 She merely addressed the assembled clergy。
'Consider the guns blessed。 Aim them directly at Fundamentalist Foods and discharge them。 That is all。'
The lads at the Nemesis motorpool grudgingly paid off the chief mechanic。 One bright spark suggested a whip…round to get up a wreath for Rex。 But no…one was particularly keen； so they got on with the business in hand。 'Who will give me evens on the Jesuits？' asked the chief mechanic； who was feeling lucky。
'News teams are covering both the rival stations；' said Ms Vrillium。 'We are monitoring all their broadcasts； internal as well as external。 We will relay all relevant information to the viewers the moment anything truly significant occurs。'
'You consider that a state of war now exists？'
'Oh yes； dear。 No doubt about it。'
Gloria was all smiles。 'Good。 And technical are going to run all the appropriate archive footage？ Threats； recriminations； cover…ups； scandals； corruption in high places。 All the horny stuff？'
'The stuff we have been manufacturing for years； dear？ All taken care of。 Overkill； is； I believe； the expression。'
'There is； I trust； no chance whatever that Dan might have survived the blast？'
'None。 Intelligence informed us that a bomb had been fitted to Rex's air car。 We took the liberty of exploding that first。 They had nowhere to run to。'
'Shame；' said twenty billion Phnaargs。 But they remained glued to their sets； all the same。
'Good。' Gloria stretched languidly and ran her fingers through her hair。 'I am； of course； very sorry about Rex。 But； as they say； you can't make a really good lubricant without breaking eggs。'
'You certainly can't；' Ms Vrillium willingly agreed。 I wonder what an egg is； and where you can get one at this time of day？ she mused。
'Oh； boo and hoo and boo hoo hoo；' sobbed the Sneaky Reekie。 'I'm a dud。 A great big dud。 The shame； the shame。'
Rex patted the blubbering bomb upon the dented nosecone。 'Never mind；' he said encouragingly。 'It's all for the best； you know。'
'The last of my line；' wailed the missile； 'and how does my world end？'
'Not with a bang but a whimper？'
'Oh cruel； cruel。'
'But let's look on the bright side；' Rex was all for that； 'you could have injured us badly。'
'Injured you badly？ I would have atomised you。 My destructive capabilities are 。。。 were 。。。 should have been 。。。 oh； the shame。。。'
'Hey； hold on there；' Elvis put in。 'I