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'Hold it easy；' The Dalai Lama peered into the terminal screen。 'We don't want to rush this。' Gloria leant closer。 'Let him get clear。'
'Of course； I mean your brother no harm。' 'I've got a fix；' said a nondescript menial； who had got a fix。 'Two fixes in fact。 But there's no way of telling who they are；' Dan and Gloria watched the little red spots on the flickering mud…brown screen。 'They're crossing the pound；' the nondescript continued。 'There； see the heat signature of the air car？ They've entered the air car；' 'Must be Rex then；' 'And he's got one of them with him；' 'Bring them back on automatic；' Dan ordered。
'It's basic stuff；' The Time Sprout checked out the dashboard。 'Turn the key； give it some revs and pull back the joystick；' 'It's a fucking spaceship！' said Elvis Presley。
'They're up；'
'Take out the entire quadrant；' Dan raised a knotted fist。 'Nuke it out；'
'Nuke it out？' Gloria fell back from the screen。 'What are you doing？'
'Call it involuntary euthanasia；'
'Co…ordinates fixed；' said the menial； 'Counting down；'
'You can't do this； you'll start a war；'
'Home territory； Gloria。 A terrorist headquarters。 The newscast will say that they blew themselves up with a bomb of their own making；' Dan turned to the menial。 'We are all prepared to video the explosion； aren't we？'
'Yes； Inmost One。'
'But。。。 a warhead。 That's a bit drastic； isn't it？'
'Something is occurring Gloria。 I can feel it。 Accuse me of being overcautious； if you wish。 No； scrub that； accuse me of nothing。 I'm the Dalai Lama。' 'The air car is free of the drop zone； Inmost One。' 'Then launch。' Dan made with the sweeping gestures。
'Om…mani…padme…boam。'
OM MANI PADME BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
13
。。。 thirteen thousand。 I kid you not。 Thirteen thousand dollars。 For a one dollar stake。 I sat in Fangio's all the next day just waiting for the God to show。 I figured he'd want his share or something。 But I guess I figured a whole lot more。 Like how he'd picked me out of the teeming millions。 How he'd e to do that。 All kinds of stuff。 I had the whole day to do it in。 Around six he es by。 He was drunk but he was smiling。 He says that he's sorry he's late； like as if we'd arranged something； which we hadn't。 He asks if I'm feeling lucky again； except the way he says it； it doesn't seem like a question。 Then he hands me the day's sheet。 The first five of the evening's races out at the coast are ringed。 I'll need a new bookmaker； says 1。 He hands me a list of names。 When you're on a million； says he； we do Wall Street。 And we do。
The Suburban Book of the Dead
The firestorm loosed itself。 Brick melted； concrete became carbon。 The canopy of flame flung itself up at the cloud cover where it whirled and twisted as if in agony。 The shockwave spread； ionising the ether。 Crushing and distorting； spreading its circle of death。 'Nice shot；' said Dalai Dan。
Time passes quickly when you're having a good time。 It goes at a fair old lick while you're asleep。 What it does once you're dead is anyone's guess。 Rex wasn't dead。 Betrayed and dumped upon from a great height。 But not dead。 He awoke in a great blackness； which was not altogether encouraging。 Nor was the smell。 He groaned； as one might； and felt about at himself in order to gauge how much； if anything； remained。 The basics were all in place。 Groaning once again for good measure； he tried to rise。
'Easy now。' The voice wasn't his own。 Nor was the smell of violets。 'Who； I； where； what？' Rex floundered about。 A soft light grew before him。 And she was there smiling。 'You。 You saved me。。。'
She nodded。 The golden corona about her head became brighter。 'And I have watched over you for nearly eight hours。 Now e with me。 You will be all right。'
'Showtime。' Dan rolled down his sleeve。 'And bring on the dancing girls。'
'This is the time
This is the place
The time to face
What the fates have in store
It's double or drop
Do or die
And here's the guy
You've all been waiting for
He's the man with the most
The heavenly host
The holiest ghost
In the cosmic drama
And here he is
The Shah of Showbiz
The Dalai。。。 Dalai。。。 Dalai Da…lai La…ma'
The Lamarettes high…kicked and made with the grinding pelvic movements。 The cameras closed in upon golden pubic regions and then swung out to frame the grinning face of He…who…knows…what's…what…in…the…great…meta…physical。 'Hello and howdy doody；' crowed the lad himself。 'And wele to Nemesis。' Cue applause。 Cue reprise。
Lights flashed。 Buzzers buzzed。 The station logo chased its tails。
'And a really special show we have lined up for you tonight。' The bunker…bound； following the holy writ； popped cans of Buddhabeer and intoned the mantra of the day： 'Give us an Om。 Give us a Mani。。。' and so on ad infinitum。
'This is no ordinary show tonight。 Not that any show could ever be called ordinary。 Oh no； siree。' Dan ran his hand down the naked thigh of an untried Lamarette。 'We have a young man with us tonight who I know you're going to love。 Flew right into the station today。 Says that he hails from Tupelo； Mississippi； and calls himself the King。'
The Lamarettes went； 'Ooooooooooh。'
'Exactly。 And how many kings can wear a single crown？ No； don't struggle over it。 The answer is one。 But this boy says he's the one and only； so it looks like we're gonna have fun。 So ladies and gentlemen； I know you want to meet him。 The King。。。 e on down。'
Encouraged by a twentieth…century farming contrivance； known as an electric cattle prod； Elvis Presley took the stage。
As the spotlight hit him the King of Rock and Roll underwent a dramatic transformation。 From bewildered schmuck to figure of greatness。 Many and various are the wonders of this world； explainable for the most part they ain't。 'Bring the band on down behind me； boys；' said the big E； 'where's my geetar？'
'Wele to the show；' crowed Dan； spinning full circle upon a mirrored heel。 'Mr King； is it not？'
〃The King。 Call me the King。'
'Well 'The〃； we're sure as makes no odds glad to see you here。 And what would you like to answer questions on？' Several of the Lamarettes had； to Dan's annoyance； detached themselves from the throng and were now fawning about the young man with the killer sideburns。 Straight for the chop this boy； thought Dan。 'e on now girls；' he crooned； 'give the boy space to breathe。'
'Ooooh and aaaah；' went the Lamarettes。
'Kindly desist！' Knowing which sides of their bread had yak butter uppermost the wayward nubiles grudgingly withdrew。 Pouting for the greater part。 'On with the show；' cried Dalai Dan。
'Where's my geetar？' asked Elvis Presley。
'I'll get it； chief；' said a small green voice。
'Not quite tuning into you there； boy。 What would you like to answer questions on tonight？'
'Questions？ I just did 〃Love Me Tender〃 on Ed Sullivan。 If there's gonna be questions I gotta square it with Colonel Tom。'
'This is Nemesis；' This boy isn't dealing from a full deck； thought Dan。 'Marion； can I have the questions？ Any questions？'
Marion's appearance on stage always drew standing ovations from the male members of the bunker…bound。 Which you may take as you will。 No woman could really look that good； but Marion did anyway。 Even a conservative description of her bodily charms would be gratuitous。 Elvis whistled。 'Baby；' he said。
'The questions； Marion； please。' Marion made free with the questions。
'The questions are on Rock and Roll；' she husked。 Elvis strummed a chord upon the guitar he was suddenly holding。 'Have I missed anything； chief？' the sprout asked。
Marion parted with the plastic questioncard and swayed precariously from the stage。 Elvis watched her go。
'OK； Mr King； the questions；'
'Uh； just one minute；' Elvis whispered something into his top pocket。
'Outrageous；' the sprout replied。 'But good for a laugh。 I'll give it my best shot；' Words and actions rolled into reverse。 Marion returned to the stage walking backwards in a fast action re…run。 She took back the question card。 Elvis took Marion in his arms and did young and healthy 'things to her。 Refastening his fly； at length； he said； 'On with the show； small buddy；'
Time rolled forward and Marion left the stage a second time。 Now in a state of disarray。 She was wearing a very large smile。
'Slight technical hitch；' Dan spluttered。 Something was going very wrong indeed。
The cavern was stone…tiled and ancient。 Unspeakable things oozed through gratings and dripped into a sea of blackness。 But all Rex could smell was violets； all he could see was the beautiful woman。 She was there in the middle of the foul lake。 Standing。 Her bare feet didn't touch the water。 'Who are you？' Rex asked。 'What are you？'
'I am Christeen； and now is my time。' Rex shook his head。 'I'm confused。 I don't understand。' 'You will； all in good time。 I have chosen you。 We are in the End Days； the final times。' 'I don't doubt that。'
'There are many pasts but only a single future。' 'Where am I？' Rex asked。 'On the edge of tomorrow。 Will you join me？' 'I surely will。' Rex Mundi walked upon the water。
'And that is the correct answer。' Dan grew slightly damp about the brow。 'Which leaves you with just one single question left。'
'No sweat；'
'But before I ask you this question； let's bring back Marion to tell us about tonight's Special Star Death。'
'Yeah； let's do。'
Lights flashed。 Applause cued。 Marion once more took to the stage。 A golden envelope in a gloved hand。 'Tonight's Star Death is a real killer；' she purred； opening said envelope and reading as one does from the card。 'It's a chance to be 。。。
'Brutally slain。'
Ooooooooh and aaaaaah。
'Ritually disembowelled。'
Aaaaaaaah and ooooooh。
'And literally torn to pieces in a frenzy of sexually crazed bloodlust。'
'Well all right；' yelled Dan； 'and we want to see it。'
'Hey； fella。' Elvis flexed his manly shoulders and adjusted his guitar strap。 The magical guitar was worrying Dan no end。 'Hey fella； I don't think I get this。'
Dan winked at the viewing public。 'What don't you get； boy？'
'Well。 Now see here。 If I answer the question wrong then I get。。。' He drew his right forefinger across his throat。 Dan nodded enthusiastically。
'And if I get the question right； I still get。。。'
Dan's head bounced up and down。 That's the way we play the game。'
'Ah。 No sweat then。 Just didn't want to look a jerk in front of my public。'
'No problem。 Now just stand on the spot there。 We want all the viewers to see you。' Elvis stood on the spot。
'OK。 Right on。 The question。' Dan waggled his finger at the mythical studio audience。 'And no helping out there。' The crowd synthesiser roared with laughter。 'Can you plete the following？ Well since my baby left me。。。 I've found a new place to dwell。。。 it's。。。' Dan's words trailed off。 Holophonic images swam in his brain。 Black vinyl in a protectrite shell。 Worlds colliding。 Time collapsing at the edges。
'It's down at the end of lonely street at Heartbreak Hotel；' sang Elvis Presley。 Dan backed away from him。 The aura surrounding the singing man was unreadable； unbearable。 But the voice。。。 the voice。
'SUN；' mouthed the Dalai Lama。 'You are SUN。'
Elvis was alone in the spotlight。 The bunker…bound looked on in awe。 Something was occurring。 Certain board members； domiciled upon a distant planet swapped incredulous expressions。 'That's what's…his…name；' gasped Gryphus Garstang。 'You know。。。'
'Paisley；' said Lavinius Wisten。 'Ian Paisley。 How in the nose of God did he get there？'
14
。。。 and the God says to me； it's a restructuring job。 We're putting the world to rights and that can't be wrong； can it？ No； says I。 The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away； says he。 Too true； says I。 We had a deal of property by then and were extending into the entertainment industry。 All legit； I might add。 Or looked to be。 The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away。 I remember that。 Because it seemed like a lot of people were being taken away。 People who got awkward or too nosy or whatever。 I never saw where they went but went they did。 He was restructuring and I was living high off the hog。 Praise the Lo