The Voyages of the Penelope and the Yydryl

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Tibbs snoozed on top of the faded tarpaulin of the wagon and mused over his witnessing
of end of the Light Flayers' world. He had witnessed many civilisations destroyed due to
their infantile behaviour and after several observations, it had been decided by Tibbs and
his 'self-multi-group' to allow the event to happen.

The Vithian ignored Nenothtu and The Boy In A Dress discussing the past couple of hours
and went back to remembering a more-distant past.

There had been a creature there known as 'The Dark Lord' from that time and the small
man with the dirty-white beard smiled to himself as he thought about the real-deal that
they had just left in the desert.

The Dark Lord that had sought revenge for his world being extinguished, fed on hate and
had a single purpose. Tibbs had now seen the ACTUAL 'Dark Lord' and the enigmatic Keeper
of Souls had seemed to carry himself with much more of a grip on existence and time
than the wrath-wrapped Light Flayer.

Death had mentioned the murder of Fooks on Nenothtu's ship and the Vithian wondered
what interaction the man/girl's brother had applied during Nenothtu's life.
Was the tall guy with the rare lop-sided grin being groomed to be Death's Soul Reaper?
Tibbs had heard of such a thing on quite a few planets and time-lines, and the image of
the Rendik- Palt painting floated into the little man's head.

Tibbs sighed and moved his head to become more comfortable, the wagon had ceased
it's bumping across the rocks and though Tibbs had wondered if the Gambler-come-
Gunslinger at the reins of the buckboard had sought the uneven ground on purpose,
the track they were now following seemed to be sandy and without obstacles.

Rendik had been a hermit on the planet Pheolea and from the writings -found after
the self-created plague had extinguished all Pheolean life on the world, Tibbs had
read about the recluse and found that he had related his thoughts to a artist called
Palt.

Palt had produced a painting, that Tibbs had discovered in a nearby building
and from the manuscripts Tibbs had read, the artist had displayed a vision that Rendik
had supposedly endured.

The canvas... although when viewed from any angle, the image seemed to move
to face the viewer... stood seven-feet tall and showed a humanoid with slightly
-sloped shoulders and half-hearted grin. Many Pheoleans lay dead around the so-called
Soul Reaper and buildings burned with inky smoke in the background.

Tibbs lifted his head and looked at the backs of his companions as he recalled what
he had seen in the left-hand side of the painting. A pyramid-style building lay among
rubble and infront of the destruction, a vague shape of a red-dressed woman could be
seen.
The shrouded figure of Death stood over the smoldering humanoid with a father-like
hand on the tall man's shoulder and a sudden shiver passed through Vithian's body.

Tibbs shook his head and dismissed the idea... it was silly to buy into Rendik's
delusions and the small old man settled back to ponder what lay ahead.

Soul Reaper indeed.

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The town of Tombstone sat and waited for the coolness of the evening and the
rays of the descending sun called long shadows from the wooden buildings,
Nenothtu, Boy In A Dress and Tibbs watched the scene ahead of them with a
weary wariness.

The horses created small puffs of dust around their hooves as they left the desert
sand and rolled towards Main Street, Neno scanned the darkened areas of the
oncoming stores and alleyways. Lit torches outside several of the buildings flickered
weakly as the still-warm breeze ran ahead of the group. A back-bent old man
stepped out of a Linen Store and turned a gaslight brighter, the town was settling
down for another easy evening.

"Stay frosty BIAD..." Neno whispered and finished by turning his head slightly
"... you too little man" Tibbs nodded to no one and scanned their rear.
The creak of the buckboard and the soft footfalls of the horses were the only sounds
in the town and Neno's senses were on high alert. His memories of old movies of
the early West of North America told of rowdy saloons and one-to-one running gunfights
in the streets, this seemed all wrong.

"Glad to see you made it, Doc" a voice came from the one-storey building on Neno's
left and it took all of the tall man's strength not to draw his gun and start shooting.
BIAD quickly reached for his hair and soothed the writhing strands, the man/girl
imitated he was combing the dust out of his mane.

Tibbs watched from between his two companions as the human that had made
the statement stepped from the doorway of the Jail and into the evening redness.

"Hi Kate... always a pleasure" the man with the handle-bar moustache said and
touched the brim of his hat, Tibbs glanced at the metal star pinned to his lapel
and guessed this was Wyatt Earp.

Nenothtu cleared his throat as he pulled the reins to halt the horses and as he
climbed down from the wagon, his mind raced with what to say. Can he pull
this off? Surely this man will see that he's not Doc Holliday? "Onwards" Neno
whispered to himself.

"I tell yer' Doc, this desert air will do you some good" Wyatt chirped and reached
to shake the tall man in the dandy suit's hand, Neno shook it and pushed a smile
onto his face. "Nice to see you again... Wyatt" Nenothtu offered and noticed his
voice seemed gravelly, he guessed the dust had done it.

BIAD waited a few seconds and then said coyly "Doc...?" a red-nailed hand appeared
to show he needed assistance.
Neno rolled his eyes and saw Wyatt flash a friendly smile as they both realised the
lady needed to to helped from the buckboard. Tibbs dropped from the back with a
'ugh' as he landed in the street and rubbed the small of his back, he was getting too
old for all this.

Nenothtu held BIAD's hand as the man/girl scrambled down from the seat and as
the eyeless creature stepped past Neno, the gunman hissed softly "don't milk this fella,
this ain't a game" BIAD nodded haughtily and swished the long dress into the crook of his
arm.

"Hello Wyatt, I think the last time we spoke was in Didge City?" BIAD said and Tibbs
turned away with wide eyes as he heard the ham-acting. Wyatt also widened his eyes
and showed a tight-lipped grin, "yes Kate... everything okay?" Wyatt asked and scanned
the man/girl's face.

What Wyatt saw was the familiar face of a woman from hard times, the nickname
'Big Nose' was a poor one, Kate's nose wasn't really that huge. The woman in the
dark red dress had stuck with Doc through good times and bad, Wyatt had always
admired her for that.

"Yes, although the journey here was a poor one... I do hope the dry air will help my
Doc" BIAD announced with a high chin and passing Wyatt without another glance,
the hermaphrodite stepped up onto the boardwalk.

Wyatt smiled at the fake-aloofness and after watching the 'lady' pass, he turned
back to his friend and pulled two cigars from his top-jacket pocket.
"Welcome to Tombstone, Doc... we're gonna do well here" Wyatt said warmly
and offered the five-inch smoke to his friend. Neno shrugged, took the cigar
and also accepted the flame from a lucifer struck on the hitching post.

The two gunmen stood in the last rays of the sun and enjoyed the tobacco
and the setting, a rare treat for such warriors.

Tibbs smiled to himself at the scene and hoped this time, all would go well.
BIAD felt for the cut-throat razor in his cleavage and watched the shadows up
the street... someone was also watching the scene.

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The lantern above the Jail doorway winked and spluttered it's light as Wyatt, Nenothtu,
Boy In A Dress and Tibbs shuffled into the small office and it was a few seconds before
another match was struck to ignite an oil lamp that sat on Wyatt's desk.

Throughout the moments in the darkness, BIAD and Neno had watched the street from
the doorway, Tibbs had waited near the dirty window for the oncoming questions from
the Lawman about his stature.

"I see you have help now -Kate? The gambling must be doin' well?" Wyatt blew out the
match and cast a baleful eye at the small man in the dark robes. BIAD/Kate nodded and
smiled, it was be best to keep the information short, BIAD thought.

Neno closed the door and looked around the Jail office area.
The room looked tired, the walls were adobe-clad and stained as if rain had soaked through
at some distant time. The single window above Tibbs was supported with wooden shutters
that carried a few bullet holes and the hanging curtains looked like they'd been made from
a grain sack. The desk had also seen better days and carried papers, flyers and Reward
posters, a half-full bottle of whisky sat near the pen holder.

"You came just in time Doc, we've got trouble with some Cowboys in town... we may
need your help on this one" Wyatt said and sat down on the wheezing chair behind the desk.

"We?" Neno asked and touched the new moustache on his upper-lip, it would take some
getting used to. The Lawman beamed from under his bushier moustache and said " Morgan
and Virgil are here too... Virgil will be pleased to see you" The last remark was toned with
sarcasm.

Nenothtu nodded as if he knew what Wyatt was saying and hoped the bluff worked, he now
wished he'd asked Death more questions. The door at the rear of the Office yearned to be
checked out and Neno slowly wandered towards it.

"Jail cells... all empty" Wyatt reported and then reached for the whisky bottle. "Drink?"
he offered and produced three Shot glasses from a drawer. Neno recalled that Doc was a
heavy drinker and nodded, but it was BIAD who surprised them all. "Yes please!" the man/girl
said loudly and swished towards the desk. Wyatt raised his eyebrows and poured the amber
liquid into the glasses, Tibbs continued to wait at the window and remained stoic.

The clink of glasses told of the end of the introductions and Nenothtu stopped his drinking
to watch The Boy In A Dress swig the whole of the glass's contents down in one go.
The sound of a content 'aaahh' escaped the ruby-red lips of BIAD and again, Wyatt's eyebrows
levitated.

"What seems to be the trouble?" Neno asked and wiped the stinging whisky from his
moustache, his eyes blazing at BIAD to knock the play-acting off. The hermaphrodite pursed
his lips and went back to stand near the door.

Wyatt ignored his friend's frowning towards his gambling-assisting lover and related the tale.
"This town has been havin' many problems with two gangs of Cowboys that hang around
together... the Clantons and the McLaurys" Wyatt glanced at the rack of rifles on the wall
behind Neno and continued.

"When I came here with Matty... oh yeah Doc, I forgot, I've gotta girlfriend!" Wyatt Earp's face
changed from the hard-hitting Lawman of Kansas into a love-sappy young man who saw
white picket fences and roses by the gate -in his future.

"Anyways... when I got here and Virgil was already in as U.S Marshall, these Cowboys started
in with their trouble" Wyatt's mood swept back to a brooding gunslinger.
Nenothtu nodded and walked over to the oil lamp to re-ignite his cigar, the stogie was almost
gone. "They're gonna try to run us out of town -Doc" Wyatt finished and rose from the chair,
the meeting was over.

After they had all come out of the Jail and Neno had again, assisted the now-prissy Boy In A
Dress back onto the wagon's seat, Wyatt halted Neno in his walk back around past the front
of the horses and placed a friendly hand on his friend's shoulder. "You are with me on this?"
the Lawman asked softly and Neno felt his old-self threatening to emere from behind this
gambler-character.

"It's your fight Wyatt... but I'll stand with yer'" Neno said unconvincingly and reached for the reins.
Wyatt Earp sighed and smiled, knowing that his old friend couldn't be 'handled' The sun had
gone now and the Gambler with the ailing health looked down with hidden features from the
buckboard.

"I'm here to help you Wyatt... and that's the truth" Neno said cryptically and urged the two
horses into a steady walk. Wyatt nodded and strode back towards the Jail, his friend must
be tired -he thought and didn't notice the shadowed profile of Tom McLaury watching him
from the alleyway next to the Capital Saloon.

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" Look BIAD, I accepted this deal to get us back to Silo... you two are not gonna
screw it up by acting like a pair of clowns, okay?" Nenothtu shouted and slammed
his fist on the dresser. The two bottles of cheap perfume wobbled near the
water-stained mirror. Neno sighed to himself and watched the man/girl for
a reaction.

The Boy In A Dress nodded and remained quiet, while Tibbs kept his eyes on the
richly coloured carpet, the hotel room seemed to crackle with Neno's annoyance.
They had booked into The Preston Hotel at the end of town and after the bellboy
had carried in their luggage, the Desk Clerk had asked for their names.

Neno and BIAD had given their assumed names of Doc and Kate, but when the
skinny Clerk in the stained waistcoat and metal sleeve-bands asked the little
man with the long white beard and spectacles for his name, the answer had
astounded the Gunman and the hermaphrodite.

Tibbs had been resting his bones in a lush leather chair near a window table
with a large Aspidistra as a centre display, the heat of the day and the tension
of the task ahead had weighed heavy on the Vithian.
"And you Sir...? what name shall I write?" the Clerk had asked Tibbs as the little
man had busied himself with swinging his legs backwards and forwards.
Tibbs had also acquired a hat from the crates in the wagon, the wide black brim
gave him a look of a preacher. Tibbs looked up from his antics and said quietly
"Eastwood... Clint Eastwood"

Nenothtu had remained silent as they were shown to their room, but BIAD could
feel the rage coming off him in waves and it wasn't until the tall man had given
some coins found in Doc's suit jacket to the bellboy, that the anger was released.

The man/girl had heard of an actor from way back called Eastwood and guessed
that Tibbs had panicked. The little man had apologised during Nenothtu's rantings,
but sorry wasn't enough to ease the Gunman's rage.
That was when they heard the sound of several horses riding into town.

Ike Clanton and his brother Billy had decided to visit the 'Law Dog' to find out
why their fellow-Cowboy Tom McLaury had been pistol-whipped on the afternoon,
Ike was looking for a fight.

Nenothtu watched from the hotel window as the guy with the ancient buffalo rifle
sticking out of his saddle holster passed by and BIAD knew the itch that was bothering
Neno just might get scratched this evening.
The door closed quietly behind the man with the rare lop-sided grin and his two
companions looked at each other across the room, something bad was going to
happen.

Ike poured himself another shot of rye and looked at himself in the Saloon mirror,
the man that looked back dripped hatred. The botched robbery of a Stage coach
outside of Bisbee had led a lot of Tombstone citizens to start thinking it was a poor
idea to have these Cowboys coming into town, Ike didn't like their thinking.

Billy Clanton had gone over to 'Rosies' to see his gal and even though Ike had
ragged on him all evening about courting a prostitute, his kid-brother had still walked
off with that sappy grin on his pock-marked face.

"Whisky -Bartender" a voice drawled from Ike's left and the heavily-stubbled bully
snapped his head that way to see who had interupted his thoughts.
The man in the fancy suit and clipped moustache looked back and a lop-sided smile
played on the stranger's lips. "Hi Ike... " Nenothtu said softly and nodded to the barman
as he took his drink.

The rumour that Earp's so-called friend had come into town had reached Ike's ears from
the Ranch cook that had visted the town for supplies and Ike was now looking at him,
the infamous Doc Holliday.

Neno moved his jacket to show he was packing and looked around the Saloon.
The eight patrons sitting at the two tables were looking back, the poker game had
halted and Neno could see that the nearest man held a possible flush.
"Listen Holliday, ah' don't have any beef with you, but you side with those law dogs
up the street, then we may be havin' words" Ike pronouced 'dogs' as 'dawgs'

Nenothtu's smile never wavered and he realised that he too had fallen into the trap
of role-playing, the thought made the smile lose some of the acid. "I tell you what -Ike,
if I DO decide to take sides, I assure you that you'll be the first to know" the words reeked
of venom.

Ike eyed the Colt in Neno's holster and the filed-down hammer wasn't lost on the Cowboy,
Ike's dim mind pondered the percentages of taking the dandy.
The blur of Neno pulling the iron and placing it calmly on the bar made Ike think again
and the hooded eyes and snake-like smile Neno offered, made Ike recount those
percentages.
"It's a dangerous game Ike, you wanna play? Neno hissed and again, glanced at the
onlookers, wide eyes and open mouths were abound.

Ike placed his empty glass on the whisky-stained counter and turned slowly towards
the batswing doors, the mathmatics didn't tally -Ike thought, at least not now.
Wyatt Earp's face haunted the darkness above the doors and Ike gulped...
'Now two bastards' he thought.

‘Chumley? What are you doing in here?’ Carpet asked from under Silo’s bed where he’d spent most of his time since her disappearance from Ship.

‘Finding something to lick.’ Chumley answered his feet reaching half way under Silo’s bed as he rummaged around through her bedclothes.

‘You’re what?’’ Carpet bunched up his fibers to the far wall to stay as far from Chumley’s feet as he could.

‘I thinking she in trouble.’ Chumley mumbled around a natural hair blanket he’d stuffed into his mouth before moving on to her nightstand, ‘I find something with Silo spores. I taste it. It tell me if she’s alive or...’ Chumley didn’t finish only licked her blanket again spitting out hairs on his way to Silo’s hygienic chamber where he poked his head through the door, the rest of him wouldn’t fit.

‘Like how you tasted the blood in the Recovery Center and knew it was Antar’s?’ Carpet wondered aloud creeping from under Silo's bed to follow Chumley across the room.

‘Yeah...’’ Came a muffled reply.

‘And how you licked Swarg and knew he was infested?’ Carpet prodded on.

‘Yeah...’ Chumley pulled his head out of Silo’s bathroom, his hands empty but for the soggy blanket, his eyes sad and lackluster.

‘You find anything?’ Carpet asked, his curiosity peaked.

‘Yeah...’ Chumley let out with a great sign and lumbered back across her room careful to avoid the changing colors of Carpet’s bio-markers rippling across the floor.

‘Where are you going now?’ Carpet followed him through the door and down the corridor chasing the gigantic Regalian.

‘Gonna go get Silo.’ Chumley replied turning towards Ship’s wing holding the officers cabins.

‘You’re what!’ Carpet thinned himself to a mere strand, squeezed between Chumley’s feet and the wall to surge forward and block his path. Carpet had no doubt Chumley would stop - he’d trained him long ago to take care where he trod.

‘I gonna go get her. Silo needs go-gettin‘.’ Chumley stopped hard in his tracks careful not to walk on his friend. The squishy popping sounds Carpet made when he got stepped on made Chumley think he was walking on little bugs and caused him to gag.

‘You mean you know where she is! All you had to do was lick a blanket and you know how she is?’ Carpet’s voice rose sharply edging on hysteria his strands rising rigid to their full height.

‘Yeah. Now move.’ Chumley picked up his foot and held it there in a silent threat waiting for Carpet to comply.

‘Why you cretin! You gigantic piece a ..!’ Carpet bellowed, ‘Why did you wait until now to tell me!‘ In complete torment Carpet refused to move.

‘You, didn’t ask!’ Chumley let his foot drop with a thump watching Carpets bio-marker colors explode from under his foot like he’d stepped in a puddle of paint.

‘Where is she Chumley! Where is she you big fat..!’ Carpet boiled dangerous shades of red.

‘I not telling you.’’ Chumley said, dropping the slobbery blanket over Carpet‘s writhing colors. ‘I taking you...’

‘You get in, I'll be right back!’ Chumley commanded Carpet into Silo's blanket before dashing again inside her cabin leaving Carpet alone in the corridor filling with trepidation and anxiety.

‘But I can’t...’ Carpet wailed and turned a remarkable shade of yellow while trying to back out from under the slobbery blanket.

‘You can.’ Chumley replied startling Carpet who’d hadn't head him return. ‘CindyMars told I about Milli.’ Chumley continued, his tone matter of fact and harshly unforgiving.

‘But Milli is an, an offshoot.’ Carpet cried, confused. ’Chumley, I’m the Core.’ Carpet backed up a few paces his color turning a deeper yellow.

‘So what. Get in blanket. Silo need Carpet. Silo is maybe-dead. We go!’ Chumley waited, hopping from one foot to the other.

Hearing the words he’d so feared to hear Carpet paled to near translucence but didn’t hesitate. Moving back under the blanket Carpet transferred into it’s natural fibers making the blanket shimmer gently with life.

‘Mine! Mine mine mine mine MINE!’ Chumley crowed in delight snapping up the blanket before Carpet could rethink his move. Turning and running in the opposite direction Chumley ducked in and out of doorways not wanting to be seen or detained.

Carpet, unable to vocalize so soon after a core transfer trembled in real terror. Something was wrong, deadly wrong but it was only as Chumley began to morph, diminishing as they went that Carpet realized the full scope of his error.

Reaching the torpedo room Carpet found himself trapped in the blanket held just off the floor and over the head of Deez. The little beast’s teeth bared in a nasty grin.

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‘You no see I, you no see I!’ Deez chuckled in evil glee. ‘You no talk! Deez gots you! Deez gots you!’ He continued to chatter then stopped abruptly before entering the torpedo room.

‘Help!’ Deez commanded a working Droid who rose from it’s station ready to take orders.

‘Ship say me get rid of bad thing. Bad thing go out!’ Deez snarled motioning to the torpedo tubes with his arms filled with blanket.

The Droid complied moving forward to station itself aside the launch tube but Deez reluctant to let go of the blanket waited until the Droid opened the torpedo shoot before relinquishing his prize. Dancing on his back feet Deez watched as the Droid stuffed the blanket into the orifice, closed the door and twisted the lid closed.

‘Make go away!’ Deez commanded panting in excitement.

‘Sir. I need verification from Ship before I can fire a torpedo.’ A Droid following protocol was exact.

‘No use torpedo. No need talk Ship. Ship tell Deez.’ The creature lied easily. ‘Clean tube. No torpedo. Clean tube, clean bad thing!’ Deez could barely continue.

‘Clean the chamber?‘ The Droid cocked it’s rounded head to the side it’s one large red eye blinking steadily.

‘Yes!‘ Deez howled. ‘Clean clean clean clean cleannnn! Deez clambered onto the control table ready to begin pushing buttons if the Droid failed to do as it was told.

The Droid, satisfied with his orders manipulated the settings expertly, hit the button necessary to pressurize the chamber and waited for the ‘go ‘ light to turn green.

The Droid's mechanical hand poised over the ’fire’ button gave Deez all the information he needed.
Jumping forward the little beast snapped at the Droids extremity and began pouncing up and down on the ’fire’ button until it did just that. Fired.

A sharp whoosh as air filled the chamber was followed by a small almost silent rapport as the air and blanket shot into space.

‘But Sir! You didn’t wait for full pressurization...’ The Droid called after the retreating Deez who’s maniacal laughter and chattering filled the hallways as he ran home to his box and ‘My Eye’ to report the task accomplished to his master.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Meanwhile, Chumley, after searching Silo’s cabin in vain for her backpack and tele-tabs returned to the corridor finding it empty. No Carpet and worse Silo’s blanket was gone. The big Regalian howled in anger. Silo was near-dead or just-dead. She waited for help and could wait no more. Carpet didn’t understand. Carpet was a coward!

Roaring in frustration Chumley returned to Silo’s room, seized another blanket and left again storming through the corridors in the direction of his own cabin busting through the door leaving it broken opening and closing on itself.

Holding his breath in fright Chumley searched his room wondering if his tele-tab would be where he‘d hidden it or if it too had disappeared along with Carpet and Silo’s blanket. Finding what he sought he slipped his tentacle deep into the toe of his dress boot and let his breath out in relief. The little tab with the colored lights CindyMars had left him in case of emergency was still there.

‘Ship!’ Chumley called and unable to force himself into patience roared on an on until Ship finally answered, her voice filling his cabin.

‘Chumley!’ Ship turned her volume to full before getting the distraught Captains attention. “What in the great blue moon’s going on!’

‘I go! Ship! I go to Silo. Silo near-dead.’ Chumley panted looking around his room in a frenzy never quite sure where to address Ship’s voice.

Ship didn‘t hesitate, didn‘t try to question or detain the Regalian. ‘Go Chumley, bring her and the babe back. Bring you all back, safe.’

‘Yes Mam!‘ Chumley sobbed in return. Then, holding the tele-tab between the tips of his tentacles he wished himself to Silo and snapped the little tab clean in half.


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Wyatt looked down at Ike's pistol in his hand and then at the prone Cowboy, Ike moaned
once and remained still. The Lawman had done the same act as he'd done with Tom
McLaury earlier and pistol-whipped Ike with the Cowboy's own gun, Wyatt guessed that
some folk would never learn.

"Evening Doc..." Wyatt whispered at Nenothtu over the batwing doors "... no game tonight?"
Neno lifted his chin to ease the confines of the fancy shirt's collar and responded with "I'm
afraid you broke my game up" he eyed the unconcious body in the escaping light of the
Saloon and followed it with an icy smile.

Wyatt frowned mockingly and stuffed the pistol into his own gunbelt, the weight seemed
nothing to his own Buntline.

Crickets called to each other while the two Gunslingers looked at each other and then
without a word Neno and Wyatt wandered off together along the boardwalk.

BIAD had watched the event from the half-open hotel room window and said to Tibbs
-who lay on the big iron-framed bed snoozing "The two of them are as bad as each other... "
the man/girl turned to look at the exhausted Vithian "... you know that?"
Tibbs remained still and the steady snore showed that the little man's thoughts were
with Morpheus.

"Yer' man is finding it hard going, nuh?" Death asked from the hotel balcony and BIAD's
hair unfurled to protect himself, for the first time, BIAD also noticed his red fingernails
lengthen, the hermaphrodite made a mental note to ask Tibbs about that later.

"May I come in?" the dark shape requested from the shadows and although the voice
was different from the 'Sam Elliott' look-a-like that afternoon, BIAD knew who it was.
Dressed as 'Big Nosed' Kate, the man/girl nodded and a scuffed booted foot with silver
spurs slipped past the fluttering curtains of the wooden-framed window, a worn dark
-striped trouser leg followed.
Liberty Valance stood before BIAD and if our red-dressed hero had gone to the Alambra
cinema with his Creator Charles Shaw -all those years ago, he would have recognised the
man with the square jaw who looked morosely around the room... a young Lee Marvin.

"How's it going?" Liberty growled and slapped the knotted horse whip lightly against
his thigh, his hooded eyes showed only cruelty and hardship.
The Boy In A Dress looked the apparition up and down, the sight of this grizzled man with
the embroidered waistcoat and the wickedly sharp-looking spurs, made BIAD think of
the stereotypical schoolyard bully.

"When will this gunfight begin, brother?" BIAD asked and without another thought, shivered
out of Kate's 'borrowed' dress, the man/girl shook the wig for emphasis and stroked the
familiar cloth of his own red dress.

Death coughed uncomfortably and focused on the slumbering Vithian. With an evil grunt,
Liberty Valance kicked the metal leg of the bed. "Wake up dwarf!" Lee/Liberty shouted
and followed the words with a cruel laugh. The man/girl had guessed at Death's
embarrassment and pondered what other human-like failings he possessed... BIAD added
this to his mental list as well.
Of course, Tibbs slept on.

"Tomorrow afternoon, the Marshall and his brothers..." Death glanced over at his brother
and then quickly to the interesting wallpaper "... will be told that Clanton and his men are
armed and waiting near Fremont Street"

Death/Lee/Liberty sighed and checked the large porcelain jug and washing bowl, the fictional
Liberty Valance would have looked on these as strangers. "Your guy will acompany them and
take out Tom McLaury... this must be done" the last words were cold as a deacon's watch
chain.

BIAD went over to the small wooden chair that waited near the chipped dresser and sat
down, this would be rare, but he had serious questions to ask Death.
"Tell me why and tell me the truth" the man/girl stated the regular smile waned slightly.
The hunch-shouldered Valance rasped the stubble on his chin, snapped the leather thong
against his thigh once more and placed a dusty boot onto the mattress.

"McLaury isn't supposed to die -just like one of those Roman soldiers..." Death hooked a
dirty-fingernailed thumb behind him "... wasn't supposed to and the effect on existence
is that we're out of kilter... existence is distorted" Liberty's heavy lower lip sagged and
displayed cigar-smoke stained teeth. "Existence as a talent to fix itself and there are...
junctions, turns in time where the adjustments can be seen... if you know what to look
for" Death lowered his head to hide his eyes.

Death's voice became quieter and BIAD guessed it wasn't a concern of waking the snoring
Tibbs.
"McLaury will flee the fight and will survive the injury he acquires, he will head to the west of
the town towards Fairbanks" Death seemed to smolder from under the black hat of Liberty
Valance and BIAD knew that this was the most important part of the story.

"Dear brother..." Death hissed now and the man/girl could hear that the words were said
with genuine sorrow "... he goes on and marries, his children go forward and many, many
years from now, a Tom McLaury-descendant kills existence... and me"

The room was silent for a whole minute.

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Nenothtu sat alone in a rented room next to the OK Corral and pondered tomorrow's
event. He had gone with Wyatt back to the Jail to meet up with Virgil and Morgan after
they had returned from Tuscon. Virgil -Wyatt's older brother, seemed his usual subdued
self and shook Neno's hand with the same reservation of someone who doubted his
brother's choice in friends. Morgan was just the opposite.

"Hell Doc, it's great to see you again!" Morgan said loudly and pumped Doc/Neno's
hand with enthusiasm, Morgan always brightened any meeting.
Neno smiled and took his cue from Wyatt when it came to the small-talk, the discussion
of course, was the infestation of the Cowboys.

"Those boys are lookin' for trouble alright" Virgil said in his low-slow voice and straightened
his tie in the reflection of the Jail window, Wyatt nodded at no one and muttered "so what
do we do?"
"The way I see it..." Neno said and stifled a throaty cough, his breathing had been difficult
lately "... we face them down before they get anymore coming to town" It sounded a little
lame and Neno hoped that Virgil wouldn't counter the statement.

"But that's just it Doc... we're Law officers here, while you are..." Virgil turned from his
clothing adjustment and looked Neno straight in the eyes, "... are free to stir up your
usual brand of trouble" Neno's eyes burned back like furnace coals.

Wyatt sighed and stood up from the badly-stuffed chair behind the desk and said "Now
hold on boys, let's not start that old potato. Since you first met, you been raggin' on each
other" Wyatt's stance showed he commanded the situation.

Virgil nodded and turned to look back out of the window, small dust-devils stirred in
the Main Street and lightning flashed off to the North, a storm was coming.
Neno relaxed his posture and felt a reassuring pat on the back from the ever-friendly
Morgan.

A few seconds ticked by as Wyatt formulated a plan and after straightening some
papers on the desk, he said "the way I see it, is we have to confront Ike and Billy.
Ike's itching for a fight and from what I heard from Doc -here, Frank McLaury wants
me for hittin' his kid-brother"

Earlier in the Saloon, Frank and Ike had been shouting their mouths off about how
Tombstone had 'gone to the dogs' since the Earps had arrived. A couple of drinks
with the old-timers was all it had taken for Neno to acquire the information.

Frank, the crazy-eyed herder with the large sheathed-knife hanging from his belt,
had wanted to march straight down to the jail and have it out with that 'Kansas scum'
-as Frank had announced.

So a tentative agreement was reached to confront Ike and his men to 'iron out' any
differences. Morgan had also commented that Tombstone was possibly a town he
could settle down in and the idea that these guys could just come in a terrify the
townsfolk when it suited them, wasn't one of the factors in the idea.

So now, Neno sat in the dark and reassembled his freshly-oiled pistols. The faint
light from the street torches was enough for the tall man who had been around
weapons all his life - to complete his task and after ten minutes of sharpening his
knife on a borrowed whetstone, Neno felt he was ready.

.......................................................******.......................................................

The Boy In A Dress and his friend Tibbs had been informed that Nenothtu wished
to prepare for the gunfight alone and as he had left the hotel room, BIAD had offered
a "Good luck" Neno had halted his exit and looked back at the vunerable-looking
BIAD and the little Vithian. The Gunman sucked in a deep breath and felt his lungs ache,
Death had really embroidered the whole stage -Neno thought.

"Stay here until I come back. If all goes well, we'll be back on the Sprint by tomorrow
night" Neno said softly, he wanted his voice to seem professional, but he knew he
sounded like a friend saying goodbye.

He closed the door quietly behind him.

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Tom McLaury placed his father's Colt inside the horse blanket and checked the entrance
of the OK Corral alleyway again, if Frank's idea worked, the Earps will believe that Tom
will be unarmed and they'll be off-guard. Tom drew a tight smile at the thought of his
brother's plan.

The storm reminded him that it hadn't gone away and rumbled out in the desert, Tom
gingerly touched the bruise on the side of his face and watched the lightning.
On the other side of the shadowed window, Nenothtu watched the figure hide the weapon
in the blanket, Neno's eyes twinkled in the storm's flashings.

The young McLaury strode out of the Corral area and made for the Capitol Saloon, the next
part of the plan was underway and he knew he had to put a good show on.
Main Street brooded as his boot heels tapped along the boardwalk.

Nenothu rubbed his chest and coughed again, Doc Holliday must have been in a real bad
way -he thought and tasted copper in his mouth.
The sooner this deal was done -the better.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Tibbs said to the sad-looking Boy In A Dress and again,
offered the man/girl a tumbler of water. The Vithian had gone down to the Hotel Clerk and
asked for food and drink to be sent up, yet BIAD hadn't touched anything.
The creature in the red dress sighed and stood up from the bed "Nenothtu will need
help whether he wants it or not" BIAD whispered and reached for the large leather case
under the bed.

A few minutes later, Boy In A Dress became 'Big Nose' Kate again, and eyeing himself in
the mirror, a pang of regret swept by for not getting to play a male character in all of this.
A look of sadness gazed back at the hermaphrodite 'the sooner this deal is done -the better'
he thought.

Tibbs had nodded throughout BIAD's explanation of his plan and even though the part about
stealing the shotgun -was against all of Tibbs's beliefs, he could see the greater good.
The Vithian's little hand slipped into the red-nailed hand of Boy In A Dress and another deal
was born.

Tibbs climbed out onto the balcony and as the storm crashed high over the town, he wished
the morning would never come.

.........................................................*****..............................................................

The Bartender of The Capitol Saloon reluctantly passed the whisky bottle again and the
bruised-faced young man spilled himself another drink. Tom showed a sappy grin and
threw the slug of fire-water down in one. "You think I've gotta problem with that Law
Dog -Earp, don'tcha?" Tom slurred and eyed the balding tender in the off-white apron.
The clock over the mirror ticked away the evening and Tom struck at the last part of
the plan.
"To prove to you Mister... here" Tom pulled his pistol from it's weather-worn
holster and as the Bartender gasped thinking he was to be shot, the Colt slid onto
the bar and clinked on the empty glass.

Tom McLaury widened his smile and staggered off towards the door and as the storm's
rain hissed onto the street's dust, the Cowboy set off to meet his brother.
The trap was set, as long as Ike carries out the next part of the scheme -Tom thought.

As the young man stepped into the desert rain, Ike Clanton tapped on Boy In A Dress's
hotel room door.

‘Sir, are you awake Sir?‘ Dag whispered close to Adam’s ear in a voice charged with hope and apprehension.

Adam shook his head to clear his mind and let the boy know he was aware but didn‘t open his eyes. His head still thundered, his jaw ached, yeah, he was awake.

‘She’s gone to have her teeth fixed.’ Dag continued, ‘We gotta get outta here before she gets back!’ Dag shook Adam’s shoulder a little too enthusiastically to please the Doctor’s headache.

‘How long have I been out?’ Adam asked refusing to open his eyes.

‘Not long Sir, I just had time enough to bring you food and something to drink.’ Dag‘s voice floated to him from across the room.

Relieved he was no longer naked or bound Adam slowly sat up, his head hanging low between his shoulders, elbows on his knees, eyes focused on the floor waiting for the room to stop spinning. Blinking hard Adam did a double take and cringed. His right hand was missing, a raw red stump it’s scars fresh and puckering where his hand had been. Explains the cryo-freeze he thought swallowing acrid bile rising in his throat. Amputees were unheard of this day in age but no one had bothered to affix a Graft-X pack to his wound.

‘She said it would be a waste of good supplies Sir.’ Dag returned to his side grimacing at Adam’s stump. ‘Bransom says you’re gonna be executed for treason and desertion so no need to fix your...‘ Dag stopped talking when Adam waved him off, but doggedly the youth pushed a tray of food his way. Adam shook his head and motioned to the side of the bed where Dag took a seat food still in hand.

‘You told her. About my eyes. About the memory planting I used on you during the attack - when I thought you were going to die.’ It was a statement not a question. His gentle tone held no reproach just a deep sorrow for the torture the boy must have gone through.

‘Yes Sir! I mean, no Sir!’ Dag began and stopped, stuttered and started again. ‘I mean...‘ His words came out in a rush, ‘Oh yes Sir, I told her!’ Dag jumped to his feet sending the food tray flying. ‘But Sir, I didn't mean to Sir.’ His voice cracked. ’She...made me.’ He choked on a sob. ’She...hurt me...Sir.‘ Dag fell to his knees reaching for the tray his face upturned, his silver blue eyes imploring his Hero to forgive him. And he did. Adam opened his arms to the boy engulfing him in a tight hug while clenching his aching jaw in fury. Dag’s heart beat like a trapped sparrows against his chest.

‘She can be pretty damn persuasive eh son?’ Adam swallowed his anger for the boys sake and smiling knocked his knuckles gently against the youth chin. Dag‘s face radiated pure joy at being forgiven and ungainly at best he clambered to his feet the thick swath of white blond hair forever falling over his forehead hiding unshed tears.

‘Yes Sir, she can be...persuasive...’ Dag’s voice clouded over remembering the torture dashing his hands against his wet cheeks. ’But, now that you’re awake we can go, right Sir?’ Dag brightened.

Oh for the resilience of youth Adam thought and smiled again. ‘No Dag, we can’t go now...’
Dag interrupted him. ‘Then you’ll leave me here, Sir? With her Sir?’ Dag’s face lost all it’s color as his blood turned to water at the thought.
‘No son, I’ll no leave you here with her.’ Adam griped the boys shoulder in reassurance. ‘Now go get me a Graft-X pack and be quick about it.’ Adam listed a few other items he thought they’d need, the boy’s eyes widened but he asked no questions and rushed to do as he’d been asked.

Rising to pace the room Adam tried at calm, but he was furious. Furious at Bransom’s cruel treatment of Dag. An innocent. He wanted to kill her, but his own base desire to do her violence disgusted him. Adam made his way to a small portal in the side of the room to stare into space. Deep, peaceful space.

Footsteps approached from behind, heavy treads that were definitely not Dag. Adam refused to turn and face her.

‘So. You’re up.’ Bransom observed coldly, no lisp, once again all President of the Federation Star Ship Iliad.

‘Yes Mam, I am. Thank you for my accommodations.‘ He countered, a generous dose of sarcasm mixed with sour thanks.

‘You’ve no doubt heard you’re scheduled for imminent extermination?’ Bransom’s passed over his comment repaying his sarcasm with some of her own.

‘Yes, Mam. Your assistant told me...’

‘RAT! Not assistant! That thing isn’t even a ’boy’! You Doctors and your sympathies! He’s a LAB RAT, nothing more’! She spat momentarily loosing her composure her hand flying to her mouth involuntarily checking her two new front teeth glad now she hadn't insisted he tuned to face her.

‘Have it your way Bransom, as you wish. Your ‘Rat’ informed me of your decision.’ Adam almost wiped his mouth after using the derogatory term for his friend.

‘Any questions then?’ Bransom asked by rote.

‘Yes Mam. Just one...’ Turning to face her Adam took a long stride forward and stopped just inches from her face. She didn’t even have time to flinch. His eyes, as deep and fathomless as space froze the President’s movement, thoughts, and snatched the breath from her throat. Adam allowed her heart to keep beating, but only barely.

Instantly her mind and secrets became his. Adam hastily scanned her memory gleaming for information he needed to save himself and his young friend.
Finding what he sought Adam leaned forward his eyes probing deeper, this time ready to give, not take.

Against his baser nature the hypnotist’s tone turned warm as sun spun honey promising Bransom her wildest dreams. Cursing her would only curse himself. Killing her? He’d loose his gift. So Adam spoke softly, hurriedly and only after his eyes crinkled in a private joke did he right himself and move back to where he first stood, his back to the door like when she’d entered the room only moments before.

‘Any questions then?’ Bransom repeated as if their exchange had never occurred.

‘No Mam, I’m at your ‘disposal’ Mam.’ Adam replied carefully. It would take her psyche a few moments more to succumb completely.

‘Guards!’ Bransom’s shout was followed instantly by the appearance of two huge Federation Bio-Guards who tried to enter the cell at once, bumped shoulders, and like bad vaudeville tried again before remaining at the door. Nothing like a Federation product to be big on muscle and short on A.I.

‘Stand fast and watch the Doctor.’ Her voice noticeably softened as she pointed Adam’s way. ’And no one comes in or out of this room other than that Rat. I mean, assistant!’ Bransom’s eyes blinked once then popped open as she tried to correct herself - but she wasn’t quick enough. The President took full swing and smacked herself across the face the sound of her hand hitting her fleshy jowls a deafening crack. The blow sent her two new front teeth flying across the room to clatter against the wall and fall to the floor.

The guards straightened in place averting their eyes. They didn’t dare question her behavior, didn’t dare move. They‘d been trained by Bransom well. Follow her orders to the ‘t’ or meet with immediate termination.

‘I’ll be rith back’ Bransom lisped, rocking her jaw back and forth in one palm while trying to gather her dignity by smoothing the front of her uniform with the other.

Adam waited for an explosion but none came.
Bransom turned to leave but before she went she stopped, looked back at Adam, cocked her head sideways a faint frown puckering her brows and the corners of her mouth.
Adam simply blinked.
Bransom’s frown melted into a lovesick smile a soft blush staining her cheeks. Adam nearly crowed in triumph. She was his. The President left the room pushing her way between the stoic guards who saluted smartly slapping their arms to their chests.

Just outside in the corridor returning from his errands hands full of equipment Dag recoiled at the site of Bransom coming at him but the President took no notice and continued on her way straight past the youth. Trembling Dag waited at the door out of arms reach of the guards.

‘Guards, my assistant Dag, let him pass,’ Adam wagged his finger left then right the guards moved aside obeying instantly as if they too had fallen under his spell.

‘Sir?’ Dag was all eyes his face pale. ‘No questions.’ Adam moved forward all action. ’Get to work man, we’ve only a few moments.’ Adam focused his energy on his arm and held it out for the boy who immediately began preparing it for a graft. Within minutes the process was completed Adam’s stump bandaged, they were ready to go.

‘Ok, listen close. I want you to hide, behind the door should do. When Bransom comes back she may or may not be herself so you must keep out of her sight.’ Adam jerked his head refusing questions. ‘I said I’d not leave you and I will’na.’ Narrowed at their corners his eyes gave Dag courage in a blink. ‘You’ll stay behind the door until I give the signal, then you move to my side and hang on tight.’ Adam lifted his good arm showing the boy what he meant. ‘Now go, and whatever you do be quiet!’ Adam motioned the boy away and none too soon - Bransom had returned.

‘Guarths!’ She bellowed. The ‘guarths’ turned and saluted. ‘Waith here! I’ll rethy tha prithoner for eththerminathion!’ Bransom moved inside the room closing the door slightly behind her giving Dag the fright of his life. Adam raised his finger to his lips to silence the boy. Bransom, oblivious, stared at Adam with drool glistening on her chin as she poked and worried the space between her teeth with her slug like tongue.

‘Tho! Are thu ready thu thie? Bransom bawled stomping to Adam‘s side where she gave him a telling conspiratorial wink saying her words and bluster were all an act for the guards.

Almost cooing the President spoke sotto voice, ‘Here’th whath you athed for...tharling, ’ her stumpy eyelashes batting in a flurry while handing Adam something small flashing many colored lights.

‘Thank you, darling.’ Adam sighed in relief his hand closing around the object inadvertently brushing her sausage like fingers. His gaze turned up to Bransom who colored hotly.

‘Why thu thog thu...’ She bat her eyes again remembering Adam’s thought promises, her tongue continuing to poke in and out of the hole between her teeth. Then with her face molded into a cherubic smile, she dipped her head forward her eyes held tightly shut, her lips puckered inviting Adam’s kiss.

Complete surrender. It was all Adam needed to convince himself now was the time for action.

Raising his good hand to signal Dag Adam knew he was taking a chance exposing the boys presence so soon and he was right. Bitter surprise and clouded uncertainty mingled with disgust registered behind Bransom’s eyes at the appearance of the youth.

‘Buth, tharling! I thogth... I thogth we were going thu go alone?’ Bransom whined, her eyes blinking furiously trying to clear the confusion in her head. He’d promised her they’d go alone!

‘We’re going alone,’ Adam’s gaze turned hard, unblinking and like a serpent to it’s prey he tapped into her mind once again with his piercing eyes. ‘And before we do you’re going to do one more little thing darling,’ Adam snarled, his trap exposed. Bransom's’ eyes cleared in understanding of what he’d done, his control of her but she was helpless to do anything about it caught as she was in his stare.

‘Whath...thu...wanth!’ Her words came slow and thunderous her body shaking and fighting compliance.

‘Say it again. Just once. And then you’ll be all better, bak to your old self even.’ Adam blinked his command, his hand closed in ready over the tele-tab, Dag’s grip tightening painfully on his arm.

‘Nooo! I...thill...noth!’ Bransom struggled frantically pitting her mind against his in a loosing battle.

‘Yes, you will...‘ Adam’s voice lowered, ‘Say it! On one... Two... Three... Rat!

‘Rrr...a...thh!’ Bransom breath exploded, her eyes bugged out of her head. She stuttered and tried to correct herself but wasn’t quick enough. Looking down at her own beefy hand in horror Bransom tried to duck the punch but instead slugged herself full in the face with such force the blow sent her head spinning and two more teeth flying across the room - as Adam and Dag spun and flew out of sight.

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Ike cast a lazy eye around the room and his dusty-grey gaze settled on The Boy In A Dress.
"Nice dress..." the Cowboy murmered and breathed heavily "... one of Doc's favourites?"
BIAD placed a hand over his lips and hoped it looked dainty and weak "why are you here?"
the man/girl said and made sure a slight warble was in his voice... he was enjoying this.
The storm continued it's loud journey across the desert.

A floor board creaked as Ike stepped closer to the small-shouldered woman in the dark-red
dress, the frills and bustle drew lustful looks from the dirty-faced herder. "Mr. Clanton...
please!" BIAD said in a high voice and forced a surging giggle back, the poor man had no
idea what was going to happen next.

Ike grabbed BIAD's wrist and pulled him close, all Ike Clanton saw was a small framed
female called Mary Katherine Horony and he wondered what state Doc would be in -when
the damaged gambler found out what he had done to his whore.
BIAD let out a small shriek as their bodies touched.

Tibbs waited until his laboured breathing eased and checked that the shotgun cartridges
in his pocket hadn't spilled out over the balcony, his other hand leaned the big gun against
the balustrade. The raindrops were drank greedily into the dry boarding of the balcony and
flashes of lightning made the town ghostly.
Then he heard the voices.

"You're a mighty-fine woman Kate..." The grizzled-looking Cowboy letched "... It's been
a while" and as Tibbs peeked through the Catalan-laced curtains, he gasped to himself at
the sight.
The hermaphrodite was standing with his arms at his sides , while the son of Newman
Clanton held the smaller man in a bear hug, Ike's big arms seemed like a vice.
Tibb's could also see the hair at the back of BIAD's head writhing slowly and extending down
towards the Cowboy's dirt-stained hands.

"You have me Sir and I too, have an itch to scratch" BAID whispered into Ike's bad breath.
Ike grinned and showed a crooked set of tobacco-stained teeth.
Then it happened.

The man/girl in the embrace started to sing a song that Tibb's had never heard before
and if he had spent a little more time in the 20th Century, he may have come across the
song 'The Gambler' by Kenny Rogers.
BIAD's right hand slipped foward and as he sung the words "You gotta know when to
hold 'em..." the man/girl grasped the tender parts of Ike Clanton.
The Cowboy's face changed from lustful and flushed with amour, to sudden acknowledgment
of pain, the hooded eyes became wide like a gut-shot horse.

"... Know when to fold 'em..." BIAD continued and the Vithian saw the violent twist of his
red fingernailed hand, BIAD's hair slashed into the backs of Ike's hands and the strands
pulled at the fingers for release.

Ike attempted to stumble backwards, but BIAD's grip remained firm, the song lyrics hissed
from his ruby lips "...Know when to walk away..." BIAD grinned and stepped backwards,
drawing Ike with him. The big Cowboy went for his pistol and found the holster empty,
BIAD's hair had already slid the weapon into the man/girl's bustle.

Ike sucked in huge gulps of air and used his body weight to tear himself from BIAD's
grasp, the look of horror on the bearded face made Tibb's giggle on the balcony.
Then Clanton was gone.

A few moments later, Tibbs stepped into the hotel room and looked at the creature
that quietly closed the door, the song had been reduced to a hum.
"This darn weapon weighs a ton" Tibbs said over his shoulder as he struggled to draw
the shotgun in through the window, BIAD reached over him and assisted in the task.
"Darn, Tibbs... ?" BIAD said with a slight lilt in his voice "you're becoming a citizen
of Tombstone"
The shiny barrels seemed to go on forever as it passed Tibb's small head, "I just hope
you know what you're doing" he muttered.

BIAD's smile was serpent-like "It's all in hand" he chirped.

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The morning broke across the desert floor, sweeping the night-cold towards the
fleeing shadows and Nenothtu awoke from his drowsing -Colt in hand, with the thought
that something had crawled into his mouth during the night and died there.

Closing the door behind him, he spat into the dust and wandered towards The Capitol
Saloon. Fresh coffee smells spilled out of the batswing doors and he felt that after two
cups of the brew, today may be an okay-day.

As he left the boardwalk and stepped onto the dusty street, he contemplated what
was happening to him. His thought processes had changed, he was certain of that and
of course, his health wasn't up to par. Neno looked northwards and saw the leaning
gates of Boot Hill cemetary, the playground of his latest employer -he mused.

Nenothtu sighed and aimed his cold gaze towards the Saloon, no point on dwelling
on all of this -he guessed and quickened his pace.

The Bartender looked up from his glass cleaning and nodded at the unshaven man in
the gambling attire, the frilled shirt looked like it could do with a wash and the thin
neck-tie hung like a rattlesnake skin from the Gunslinger's neck.

The ache in Neno's lungs was still there and he cleared his throat to show his contempt
for Death's interest in detail. The Bartender stood erect and muttered "My sister suffered
with consumption... gone two summers now" a kind smile was offered with the information.
Nenothtu warched the brightness outside of the batswing doors and grunted that he had
heard, the coffee was shooing the remains of the sleep away.

"Has Wyatt Earp been in?" Neno asked and placed his back to the bar, his hand was close
to his pistol if the whisky-seller tried anything.
"You're my first customer -Mr. Holliday and the coffee's free, so I guess it's a quiet
morning" came the response.
Doc/Nenothtu pushed himself from the bar and placing the empty chipped cup on
the bar, he said "well, maybe the afternoon will bring you some excitement"

Tibbs waited beside the Saloon door for Nenothtu and due to his height, he was sure
the man with the tied-down Colt hadn't seen him as he had walked under the Bar window.
'I was wrong' the Vithian thought as he felt the barrel of said Colt placed gently next to
his hairy ear.
"Howdy Tibbs..." Neno said softly and as the small man looked up at the mean lop-sided
grin, he finished "... you're an early bird" Tibbs sighed and pulled his robes close around
him.

"I was thinking last night about all of this and I think their may be something that
Death may not be telling us" Tibbs took off his spectacles and breathed on the lenses.
Nenothtu's knees creaked as he sat down on the bench outside the Bar, the town was
slowly waking up and there was an enjoyable feel to see a Western town come to life.
"Go on" Neno whispered and watched the two Cowboys ride slowly across the end of
Main Street.

The cleaning of his glasses seem to hold most of Tibbs's attention and it was around
fifteen seconds before he continued. "In some of the civilisations... and I use that word
loosely... that I have visited throughout time, there were records discovered that indicated
that these races believed that Death was an actual entity"

The Cowboy with the dark waistcoat climbed down from his horse and glanced up the
street to where Nenothtu and Tibbs waited in the shade of the Hotel.
"Will there be anything interesting at the end of this saga -Dwarf?" Nenothtu sighed and
his squinting eyes tracked the two dismounted men as they walked past the Tombstone
Epitaph Newspaper office and stepped into the Eldorado Cantina.

Tibbs rolled his eyes to himself and thought that some humans would never learn.
"The legends were laced with many sage-like warnings and though, Death would often
be written as the final act and the last thing that anyone ever saw, almost all of the
traditional tales spoke of another, a servant of Death... one who came before"
Tibbs glanced up at Nenothtu -who hadn't moved his lean body since the Cowboys had
arrived and waited for a response.

Neno cleared his breathing passages and scratched his stubbled chin.
"Mr. Nenothtu...?" Tibbs said and turned to face the Gunslinger, Neno recognised a
genuine earnestness in the little man's voice, "... I think that servant is you"

A warm breeze swept dramatically across their brows and Tibbs's beard fluttered like
Cottonwood blossom. Neno's eyes were like laser beams as they swung to look at the
small man in the dull-grey robes.

"I'm nobody's servant... and if he offers me the position, he'll find he's backed the wrong
guy" Neno hissed and readjusted his low-crowned hat, the temperature around the
gunslinger had suddenly dropped -Tibbs felt and the Vithian gulped with trepidation.

"Let's go and find BIAD" Nenothu said and stood to his full height.

‘Chumley gonna barffff...’ The Regalian groaned to himself as the snowy fields of an alien landscape spun around and round him refusing to stay still. The effects of his first teleportation were not pleasant. ‘Is worse than Ophi Ale.‘ He grumbled when the world finally righted itself but he kept turning in drunken circles.

‘Too cold.... Too white... Too... Lonely.’ The Yydryl’s Captain of Security sobbed aloud, his breath streaking the frigid air with great streams of milky vapor.

‘I on a mission!’ He reminded his wretched self. ’Ship tell me to save Silo, I save Silo!‘ He repeated again while buffing his tentacles together and stamping his huge feet to ward off the bitter cold. CindyMar’s deck shook in protest but held fast under his weight and Chumley continued his one soldier march, the stomping and tentacle flapping helping him to regain his equilibrium.

‘Captain Whisper... What she do?’ Chumley wondered how his heroine would have handles the situation, the thought of her causing him to straighten. ‘Captain Whisper no blubber like some...some...’ He thought for a rightful term but his loss for words passed. ‘Captain Whisper take situation in tentacle!’ Chumley stomped harder and with that CindyMar’s whole cabin shook dislodging weeks of snow buildup that slid in a avalanche down the roof landing directly on Chumley blanketing him in cold and completely obscuring the small pile of animal skins he’d yet to notice.

The observers from inside the cabin went wild.

‘That’s Silo! You great big green baboon!’ Milli screamed with all his might from the back of the worried cat. ‘She’s under the snow you cretin!’ Milli went on to the oblivious Regalian who stood shaking and blubbering under a great heap of snow.

Jumping at the window, yowling like a wild puma ‘Squatch’ the cat and the Milli-Being at home in the cats fur turned frantic.
They’d been beside themselves with worry for over two days. They’d witnessed Silo’s teleport arrival and her collapse - but there’d been nothing they could do to help. Then, when all hope had nearly vanished a pair of wolves arrived followed by a Rootak. When it took Silo into it’s great wooly arms and carried her away Squatch and Milli had cried with joy mixed with unease.

Milli’s first reaction was to try and contact Carpet, his core-being, but it proved useless. Carpet never answered.

A long discouraging day and night followed leaving both the cat and Milli anxiously hoping CindyMars would come home and go to find Silo, but their wish went unfulfilled.

In frustration ‘Squatch bunched the rugs, clawed the couch, shredded drapery and went so far as to leave a surprise in CindyMars favorite potted fern - which he regretted instantly - but there was no taking it back once the dirty deed was done.

Then, the Rootak returned sliding something onto the deck. Something small and wrapped in skins. They had no doubt - ‘It’ was Silo - and that they’d returned right back to where they’d begun, unable to help her, flung the pair back into despair.

And now, now when against all odds someone arrived who could help - what did the big fool do? He nearly tripped right over her motionless body all the while sniveling and talking to himself!

‘You idiot!’ Milli barked again prodding the cat to attack the huge picture window again. The cat refused.

‘Milli it’s no use. He can’t hear us.’ Squatch growled and kicked up a hind leg to begin cleaning his...

‘I knew it! It’s back to the butt hole!’ Milli complained for the tenth time in two days.

‘I told you. It calms me.’ Squatch gave off and switched to cleaning his paws and face. ‘By the way, are all your Regalians so dimwitted?’ He asked as if the fault somehow lay with Milli.

‘No.’ Milli harrumphed.

Squatch reverse licked the fur over his shoulder the subject of Regalian IQ dropped. ‘What we need now is a plan. What ‘re we going to do about Silo and the big dummy on the porch? We can’t leave them there to freeze to death, they’d be there until Spring thaw.‘ Smiling a Cheshire grin Squatch took deprived delight in toying with the idea before ignoring it all together.

‘I got it! I got it! We’ll call 911!’ Milli gasped with the idea like he’d come up with genius. ‘You could hit the speed dial on the phone!’ In return for their solemn promise they’d call for help if anything caught on fire CindyMars had left the electric fireplace on a timer so they could enjoy it a few hours a night.

‘No, we can’t. If ‘they’ came ‘they’d’ find Silo - and the big nub - and that would only get CindyMars in trouble.’ Squatch would do anything to protect CindyMars. Hadn’t she saved him from being chased by stray dogs, adoring children and tourists - all who liked the ‘big kitty’ at the General Store? Squatch despised children with their sticky fingers, tourists and their snapping cameras, dogs and their hiney sniffing. No. He owed her. Squatch would do all in his power to save CindyMars from anything unpleasant. That he’d shredded her couch drapes and did a doodey in her potted plant didn’t count.

‘Ok, so try banging on the window again...Please.’ Milli begged. Squatch liked that.

‘Ok, but if it doesn’t work this time...’ Squatch arched his back and stood at full length on his hind feet. Both front paws stretched out the cat began batting the window as if trying to catch the lacey bits of snow that had begun to fall.

‘It’s snowing again,’ He said really getting into it now.

‘Whatever,‘ replied Milli dejectedly watching the drama play out beyond the window. The idiot Regalian had freed himself out from the snow but was lurching around acting more confused and numb than before. He wasn’t even looking their way! He was staring off to the far end of the decking his attention caught by something Milli and Squatch couldn’t even see.

An explosion of shattering glass spiked Squatch three feet into the air in surprise. Milli let out with a yelp as Squatch made his way full speed in reverse, flattened himself to the width of a pancake and slid underneath the big leather sofa.

‘Look son, if we’d stayed outside any longer we’d of frozen solid!’ A gruff male voice with a nice accent came from the kitchen area, another voice, squeaky and high pitched followed.

‘But you broke that window! And we don't’ even know where we are or who this dwelling belongs too...and...and we don't even have permission!’ Squeaky sounded woozy.

‘Your heads rattled from the transport son. You forget who you’re with.’ The voice gave a pleasant laugh. ’Keep your tongue in your head a moment lad and lend a hand covering the wee hole in the window.’ The ‘wee hole’ was half the size of the door.

Unable to resist curiosity Squatch made for the kitchen feline superb. He kept to the walls like a shadow. He oozed under the long teak table, snaking his way through the feet of it’s matching chairs until he could see into the kitchen where a tall man and boy stood upending CindyMars six foot butcher block island against the hole in the door effectively blocking out the snow trying to blow in.

‘They seem ok don‘t you think ‘Squatch?’ Milli observed his voice breaking the silence completely ruining Squatches stealth mode. He loved that.

‘Hellooooo?’ Adam called. ’Someone home?’ He spun in place pushing the boy behind him with his bandaged arm holding a short laser pistol awkwardly in the other.

‘Would you shut up! You’re going to get us killed!’ Squatch hissed.

‘The man’s not going to shoot a cat!’ Milli whispered, ’And besides, we’ve really got no choice but to communicate with them or the big green guy and Silo are going to end up ice cycles!’

‘Who’s there! Show yourself!’ Adam’s eyes grew round, the youths eyes grew rounder his head peeked out from behind the big man.

‘What’s that Sir?’ He peeped.

‘It’s just a cat. Now keep quiet.’ Adam elbowed the boy back. ‘Show yourself or the cat gets it’ Adam called out ad cringed at his own threat but pointed the laser at the huge hairy feline making it’s way into the kitchen and heading their way.

‘Just’ a cat insults my friend here... Now Sir, please, put the laser down.’ Milli spoke from the cat who sat feigning innocence in the middle of the floor his eyes as innocent as a baby owls his tail swishing gently across the cold granite flooring.

‘I’m being told what to do - by a cat?’ Adam lowered the laser his eyes incredulous. ‘A cat.’ He repeated as if the situation would right itself. Fleetingly Adam wondered if Bransom had hit him harder than he’d thought.

‘For your information cats have been telling humans what to do for eons. But I in fact am a Milli-Being living on the cat. On being the key word in the sentence.’ He rushed. ’So, now that we’re through with explanations - tell us - before you broke in did you perhaps just happen to notice the three hundred pound gorilla on the deck!‘ Milli’s temper flared with sarcasm.

‘Gorilla?’ Adam flushed. ‘Dag... Do you hear this cat? Is this all in my head? Is this some aftereffect from the tele-tab teleportation?’ Adam went on as if he hadn’t heard Milli’s explanation going so far as to bat himself on the side of his head like a swimmer cleaning water from his ear.

‘I hear him just fine Sir!’ Piped Dag who went down on his knees and reached towards Squatch. ’I've never seen one for real Sir, a cat I mean.’ The boy completely delighted with the animal inched his fingers forward. Adam clutched the boy’s shirt to keep him from getting too close thinking absurdly the feline might be rabid.

‘Look, we’ve no time for this!’ Milli continued urgently, ‘There’s two more of you left out there in the cold and without your help to get them inside they’ll die.’ Adam shook his head when the cat pointed towards the door but the meaning sunk in and overrode his incredulity.

Adam responded quickly. He didn’t need an explanation for action. Trotting behind Squatch and Milli into the great room Adam sucked in his breath. This whole side of the cabin was graced with floor to ceiling picture windows affording them a spectacular view of the surrounding mountains, and a good look at the ‘300 pound gorilla’ on the porch.

Like a character from a B rated sci-fi movie the big green ‘monster’ stood shaking with cold looking every inch the miserable lost soul that he was. The beast gazed longingly at the rag tag assembly inside the house, his breath fogging the windowpane, his lips pushed up against the glass leaving two long thick smear spots in the frost.

‘You’d better let him in mate’. Milli called from Squatch who sauntered to the front door beginning to like all the drama, but not the boy who kept reaching for his tail.

‘But, it’s a Regalian!‘ Adam nearly dropped his hand laser. What a nightmare. First Bransom and now her big ugly brother right here right now huffing and puffing like some medieval dragon and wanting to be let in!

‘He looks cold Sir.‘ Dag whispered from behind Adam’s shoulder, he’d given up on the cat who’d jumped to the middle of a great long table dominating the room.

Glaring at Dag to stay back Adam stepped lightly to the door unlocking the bolt lock but smartly leaving the security chain place.

‘Who are you!‘ He demanded though the small opening his breath turning to frost before his eyes.

‘You’re not Silo!‘ Chumley flubbered around his shivering lips, standing up to full his full height puffing out his chest.

‘No, I’m not! But you’re not going to find her out there! You need to come inside.‘ Adam fully impressed by the Regalians size but not fooled for a moment over his disposition unlinked the chain blocking the door. Puffed up or no this Regalian was in no condition to fight. And a good thing too, the thin linkage making up the chain wouldn’t have held if the Regalian had merely breathed on it.

‘I stay out! I’m look for Silo! I on mission!‘ Chumley inched closer to the door clearly willing to be convinced to come in out of the cold.

‘Sir, if I may interrupt!’ Millie insisted.

Adam turned one eye to the cat, the other he kept glued to the Regalian. It made his head hurt.

‘Sir, tell him you are going to find Silo out there! ‘She’s under the snow wrapped in bear skins!’

Milli gave a whoop for joy sending Squatch shooting straight up in the air like a rocket when Adam tossed his laser gun to the boy, threw the door open and dove into the pile of snow searching for the girl buried under the cold.

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As the unlikely pair walked the boardwalk towards the rooming house to collect BIAD, neno and Tibbs didn't have much to say to one another. Nenothtu, lost in thoughts of the coming battle, Tibbs lost in his own thoughts of his recent realization. Crossing the street, avoiding the worst of the mudholes from the recent gully washer, they passed in front of a boarded-up building that appeared to be unoccupied at present. Approaching the door of it and passing on their way, nenothtu was startled out of his reverie when the door moved, just a bit, seeming to slightly fall open.

Expecting an early and unscripted ambush from the Cowboys, he found himself facing the widening crack, gun suddenly to hand and trained on the doorway. Tibbs had frozen, suddenly wanting to be anywhere else than exposed in the midst of a gunfight. When the door had crept open just enough, a bony hand appeared in the crack, beckonining the pair inside. "Ah hell!" neno mumbled as he holstered the weapon. "Come on, Tibbs, looks like 'the boss' wants a word." and he strode towards the door.

Tibbs hesitated, stuttering just a bit. "Mr. Nenothtu, are you sure we should... I mean it could be an ambush... "

"Tibbs! You didn't see that bony finger? You reckon ANYONE else walking this town - and the key word there is walking - could be quite that far gone? Naw, it's Death alright. Let's go see what in hell he wants now." Tibbs shuddered, but followed - making sure he was behind neno, blocked from whomever waited inside.

Crossing the threshold, allowing his eyes to adjust to the gloom inside and closing the door behind him, nenothtu saw the tall, gangly figure of Death across the room, wearing his hooded robe. Death spoke first "Hail and well met..." before nenothtu cut him off in mid-greeting.

"cut the flowery crap. What do you want now?" he demanded.

"I..." and neno cut him off again.

"Are you NUTS, wearing that getup? Suppose one of the townsfolk see you like that? It'll scared the bejesus out of 'em, and sure as hell it'll tip 'em off to what's coming. Are you TRYING to ruin my element of surprise? Change, now."

It was as if storm cloud were brewing inside the hood, An illusion, of course, just for the dramatic flair, but an effective one. "Just WHO do you think you are, talking to me like tha... "

"I'll talk to you any damned way I please, and goddammit, I said CHANGE!"

Death was silent for a moment, angrily trying to stare this lunatic down. NO ONE talked to him like that! Neno met the stare with a hard stare of his own. He wasn't about to back down now, he was already in it.

at length, Death said in a tightly controlled, conversational tone "You know, I could just..." and he let the thought trail off, extending a bony hand towards neno's throat.

"You could crap an' fall right back in it, mister! You know the rules of this game as well as I do. You CAN'T take me before my time comes, and when it does, I can't avoid it. Them's the rules, and you're bound to 'em every bit as much as I am. I don't see any reason I ought to bow at YOUR feet."

Death looked for all the world like he was about to swallow his tongue - if he'd had one in this state. Regaining contol of himself, Death hissed "I could just leave you right here... no way home..."

Nenothtu actually snorted at that, drawing a surprised look from Death. "I'll tell you what, hoss, I already AM home - or at least a damn sight closer to it than I'll ever find back in my own time. I can just walk right out this door, and away from town, and live out the rest of my alotted days right here - no one would ever be any the wiser. That'd leave you to do your OWN damn killin'. Matter of fact, I think I'll do just that..." and he turned and stepped toward the door.

Death felt a moment of panic then. It was a strange, feeling that he of all beings was unaccustomed to. "Wait! I'll..." and when neno turned back around to see what he had to say, Death had already changed back into his Sam Elliot guise. "You win this one, but you better not get too comfortable with it." was all Death could say at that point.

"That's better" nenothtu relaxed, just a bit. "And I'll let you know, right now, that I'm already on to the fact that I'll win until I loose, I'll live until I die, and you've got no actual control over either eventuality. You're just the clean-up guy. Now what do you want?"

Death looked nonplussed, and seemed momentarily a a loss for words. "Well, I just wanted a word... that is, I wanted to make sure you... It was... "

Nenothtu nearly exploded, but it was a controlled demolition "Jee-zus Kee-rist! You wasted my time for THAT? This interview is OVER, hoss." and he turned and strode out the door, Tibbs scrambling to keep up. He Slammed the door behind him.

Back on their way, Tibbs finally spoke up. "Do you think that was Wise, Mr. Nenothtu? I mean, it is Death you're dealing with here..."

Neno snorted. "Mister Tibbs, ain't NO ONE backs me down, not even Death. The rules are just as I told him, and I've got a bad attitude anyhow, and would've done exactly like I told him -went off to live the rest of my days right here, consumption and all - and left his ass high and dry. Me, 'Death's Servant'? I think you better re-evaluate just who owns who there... it's all a matter of yer perspective, how you choose to look at it - and act on it. Well, that and how far and hard you're willing to push." and he fell silent again, as they continued on their way to find BIAD.

‘Look big guy, I’m fine now, really!’ Adam buffed the Regalian on one massive shoulder trying to cheer him of his depression but the big green Captain would have nothing of it. He just sat there on the floor blubbering, next to him lay Silo in a thawing bundle of furs catching the full benefit of the electric fireplace glowing bright and hot. The cabin was sweltering.

‘And anyway - you fulfilled your mission right? You were told to find Silo, and you found Silo!’ Adam tried to rouse the Regalian while trying desperately to keep from looking at Dag who he was confident would do something to make him laugh. Dag snickered and continued rubbing balm into the marked bruises across his shattered side gently but firmly. The boys fingers felt wonderful messaging his aching skin, easing the deep hurt. Adam looked at the boy involuntarily. Dag shot a thumb under his chin, made a face and rolled his eyes wildly at the Regalian. Adam burst out laughing a knife fight of pain stabbing through his chest turning the laugh to a coughing groan.

‘See! ’ Chumley moaned, ‘I broke you! And you a Doctor!’ The guard lumbered to his feet wringing his tentacles wiping his dripping brow. ‘I sorry!’ Chumley’s face streamed fresh tears and sweat , clearly that he’d ‘broke’ a Doctor was worse than having just ‘broke’ the man.

Earlier when Adam dove into the mound of snow to rescue Silo Chumley hadn’t known the Doctors intentions. and believing he was going to attack Silo the Regalian had reacted instantly launching himself through the air landing on Adam and breaking a shelf of his ribs in the process.

‘No trouble friend, I’ll mend’ Adam lifted his arm so Dag could finish wrapping his ribs and surreptitiously blocking his nose. The putrid stink of the steam drying Regalian and Silo’s blood was something fierce.

‘You going to let me have a look at her now Sir?’ Dag inched towards the unconscious Silo but Adam held him back fearing for the boy. Silo wasn’t a pretty sight. Caked with dirt and crusted blood the furs she was wrapped in were stiff with the stuff. He thought the smell alone would be enough to smother the boy’s curiosity but Dag persisted. Not for the first time Adam wondered at the boys fascination of Silo, it went beyond youthful curiosity into something else he wasn‘t sure of. Then he remembered.

‘Dag, come on,’ He wrapped his good arm around the boy’s shoulders moving him along. ‘Let’s go find something to eat.’

The pair followed Squatch to the kitchen and after Milli gave them a rudimentary tour settled in to fix something for their dinner. Adam wondered absently what the Regalian ate but he hadn‘t asked. He‘d been afraid of the answer. Plus the big boy could eat what he fixed or loose a few pounds. The ache in his ribs confirmed it wouldn’t hurt the Regalian a bit.

‘Dag. Remember back on LAB before we left you told me you knew how Silo snuck out of Lab?’

‘I thought you’d forgotten Sir.’ Dag’s manner changed.

Adam filled a huge pot with water, added salt, then struggled with the gas controls. The gas hissed away as he looked for something to light it with finally settling on a long thin wand of a tool with a trigger. Adam pointed it at the burner and pulled. The whole stovetop exploded into flame before setting down to burn softly in a high blue ring.

‘You can come out now.’ Adam called to Dag who’s head rose from behind the counter where he’d ducked at the explosion. ‘And no, I didn’t forget so quit stalling - it’s truth time lad.’

Adam rummaged through a cabinet Milli assured him contained some dried carbs he could boil into a tasty dish. Pasta he’d called it. Adam vaguely remembered the food stuff and chose two pounds of a long thin type called linguini. Waving a single piece like a directors baton Adam conducted Dag to continue with his story.

‘Well Sir... I knew Silo back then. We all did at Lab. She was...everywhere.’ Dag hung his head and fiddled with his fingers refusing to look Adam in the face.

‘And?’ Adam broke a fistful of linguini in half and continued until he’d dumped the whole two pounds into the barely boiling water. It stuck together instantly. Adam turned up the heat before pointing a long wooden spoon at Dag with a look that said no more nonsense.

‘Sir...’ Dag searched for words. ‘Silo was ‘different’ from the rest of the...experiments.’ Dag blushed hard at the word. ’She was more, well, human than any of the Doctors wanted to admit.’ Dag went back to fiddling with his thumbs. ‘You know they destroyed all the other Silo's didn't you Sir?’

Adam shook his head and didn‘t comment, he didn‘t trust himself to without using foul language.

‘Well Sir, Silo grew up fast but they wouldn’t let her out of LAB, so, she decided she wanted to become a RAT.’ Dag used the word deliberately. ‘The rest of us LAB assistants started to let her hang out with us. Help us around LAB, eat with us, ya know.‘ Dag slowed but Adam gave him a grunt of encouragement. ’We liked her well enough but Bransom didn’t, something about Silo’s bio-donators. So, when Bransom was scheduled to be at LAB we hid her. Silo that is.’ Dag brightened remembering some of their high jinks and close calls. ’We did a pretty good job of it too Sir.’ Dag assured, ’But it kind of backfired.’ Dag hung his head again.

‘And how did it ’backfire’ as you call it?’ Adam continued stirring until the noodles finally softened and gave themselves up to drown individually instead of clumped together.

‘When we were together we, I, showed her how to get in and out of LAB. Then she started to come and go on her own.’ Dag wrung his hands some more. ’She also found out about the Space Bar we went to. It was all about mud wrestling back then Sir. And for Silo? It was love at first site. She stopped wanting to be a Rat. Mud wrestling was all she wanted to do. We, I, couldn’t stop her Sir.’ Dag swallowed and shot his chin.

So that was it. Dag felt guilty about Silo escaping Lab, Adam thought before Dag’s words registered.

‘Wait just a second.’ Adam scowled. ’Are you trying to tell me that little thing in there,’ Adam pointed with a wooden spoon dripping water across the stove top, ’She mud wrestled?’ Adam had witnessed some pretty amazing things in his life, but mud wrestling was something he’d only seen in sleazy Space-Rags and from what he remembered the wrestlers were huge not so small he could fit one under his arm.

‘Oh yes Sir! ’ He cried enthusiastically, ’She’d have me, I mean she’d bet up a big ump gold and then get into the ring all odds against her. When she got caught in a hold she’d just morph Sir. Never lost a match unless it was against a Regalian Sir!’ Dag obviously respected Silo’s ’talents’.

‘What about Regalians?’ Adam asked, his eyebrows raised.

‘She hated them Sir. All those tentacles.’ Dag laughed wiggling his arms and finely arched brows. Adam bunch his own brows together in alarm. Dag had brows like doves wings. It wasn’t right for a boy.

‘You better not tell the big guy in the other room,’ Adam turned back to stirring the pot still scowling.

‘Oh he knows Sir!’ Dag turned his face up to Adam his clear blue eyes outshone his smile. Good sense gave Adam a shudder. The boy was too pretty for his own good.

‘What do you mean he knows?’ Adam asked looking quickly away from the boy and back to the pot of bubbling pasta.

‘He’s the one that popped her Sir.’ Dag commented as if it was obvious.

Adam’s jaw dropped. ‘He what her?’ A picture of the big Regalian landing on Silo like he’d landed on him was appalling. It made his ribs start aching again.

‘Yeah, I mean yes Sir. The Regalian came to the bar a few times looking for a Bio-Lifer, one he could take back to his Ship.’ Dag continued this time without encouragement. ’See, the Yydryl needed a new assistant and she didn’t want to go through regular Federation channels to get one, her being in hiding and all. So, the Regalian took her. Silo I mean.’ Dag pantomimed getting hit in the head, his eyes rolled back, the tip of his tongue left sticking out. A little soft pink tongue. Adam gave another shudder when Dag righted himself laughing and came to stand at his side peering into the pot.

‘Get back, you could get burned!‘ Adam used the excuse to distance himself from the boy. Looking hurt Dag stayed where he was but let his hair fall over his face. Adam felt bad for shouting. He reached to move the hair out of his eyes, but pulled his hand back instead.

‘I’m sorry. Go on. Please.’ Adam fished a half cooked noodle from the pot and handed it to the boy who snatched the piece with his fingers blowing the heat away dramatically.

‘Like I said, he popped her on the head and walked out of the bar.’ Dag ate the cooling noodle and made a face. ‘It’s flat Sir.’ He poured more salt into the pot without asking then smiled up at Adam his face flushed to a soft rose from the heat and blowing on the pasta.

Adam, caught in the boys stare took a look at the youth carefully for the first time. Short ragged ash blond hair. Huge eyes that turned from blue to violet and back to blue again the iris outlined in lavender. Lashes impossibly long and sooty. Cheeks clear and soft as the petals from an exotic flower.

‘Sir?’ Dag cocked his head slightly to the side his long lashes sweeping his high flushed cheeks in a long blink.

‘OUCH!’ Adam burnt his finger on the pot lid and swore gently. ‘It’s nothing lad.. Why don’t you hunt around through the storage area there and find us a pot for the noodles. This stuff is almost done.’ Adam rocked his chin and tried to swallow around something that felt like one of the cats hair balls.

Dag did as he was told and pulling up his pristine LAB coat dropped to his knees allowing Adam a tantalizing view of the youths long legs and softly rounded thighs. With his back to the Doctor Dag burrowed into the lower cabinet leaving his small bottom stuck up in the air jerking this way and that as he rummaged the cupboard. Adam tried to swallow again his mouth and tongue gone dry.

‘What the hell’s wrong with me!’ Adam nearly slapped his own face with the wooden spoon. ‘Acting like a...’ He chastised silently disgusted with himself. Adam knew of men who liked boys. He wasn’t one of them. “Never will be’ He grumbled aloud but couldn’t take his eyes off the boys hind end. It was absolutely beaut...

Groaning loudly Adam turned back to the pasta wondering once more if Bransom had hit him in the head harder than he’d thought. When a small white hand closed over his bandaged forearm and Adam covered it with his own he knew she had.

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"Doc!" called Morgan from across the street and though Neno recalled the voice,
a hand flew to the holster strapped to his thigh, Tibbs hit the boardwalk and discovered
drying mud there from last night's storm.

Morgan waved and stepped onto Main Street, carefully navigating around the water-filled
wheel ruts, his grin faded as he concentrated on his task. Nenothtu straightened his stance
and offered a weak lop-sided grin.
"You surprised me..." Doc/Neno lied easliy and though the tall man in the dark suit and black
hat had only met Morgan a day ago, Neno felt that this man was someone who easily got on
with others around him.

Morgan stepped over the prone Tibbs and shook Neno's hand "Wyatt and Virgil are looking
for you" he said. Tibbs sighed at the idea of not being helped up and then surprised when
Neno's hand reached down and picked the Vithian up by his robe hood.
Ignoring Tibbs's nod of thank you and self-cleaning, Neno looked back to Morgan and asked
"what do they want with me?" Neno's voice was steady and showed genuine curiousity.

Morgan peered down Main Street towards Fremont Street and muttered "there's something
going on with the Red-Sashes... I mean the Cowboys" Neno followed Wyatt's brother's gaze
and saw the two men he spotted earlier, Neno touched his moustache and mused.
"It looks to me as if those guys are packin' and they seem to be searching for something"
Morgan said to himself and Neno adjusted his comment "... or somebody?"

Without another word, Morgan and Nenothtu strode down the boardwalk towards the
Jail, Tibbs revealed a resigned look and followed in double-time.
Then The Boy In A Dress stepped from the shade of Carlton's Store and Grainery and
Morgan gasped.

The hermaphrodite had plucked at some hanging thread on his black-leather waistcoat
and without looking up at the mouth-open men, BIAD smiled at his cowboy boots, the
rhinestones that glittered around the ankle area told of flair and high-fashion.
Boy in a dress let his long nails tap on the handles of his newly-bought Colt 'Equalizers'
the oiled leather of the gunbelt creaked softly on the curved waist of the creature and
a sexy sigh fell from those ruby lips.

Nenothtu smiled a smile that didn't reach his eyes at the small-framed man/girl and
stepped away from Morgan, over his shoulder he asked the younger-Earp brother
"...will you excuse us one moment?"

..........................................................*****.........................................................

The room in the boarding house seemed to expel hot steam out into the morning air -as
BIAD and Nenothtu came out onto the street.
Morgan had waited with the little man with the white beard as the Gambler and his
lover had privately discussed Kate's attire and from the scene in front of Morgan, he
guessed an agreement had been reached.
The slamming of the door and the meek stance AND plain dress of BAID/Kate implied
that an outcome was acquired.

"All sorted and thanks for waitin'" Neno said and with a hand, he invited the group to
continue to Jail. Tibbs tugged at BIAD's sleeve and whispered "everything okay?"

BIAD's usual manic-smile was gone and the face of a child refused ice cream resided
there, "he has a terrible temper... I can't see this marriage lasting long" BIAD whispered
back.
Tibbs moaned inside and with the look of someone explaining to a simple-minded soul,
he hissed back "you're not married -you fool... and you're a Devil"

BIAD showed a pursed confused face and then a serene smile surfaced. Nenothtu and Morgan
stepped up the Jail door as Boy In A Dress said from the side of his mouth...
"You wouldn't know great acting if it hit you in the face!"

Tibbs stood alone in the drying street and the words -'why me?' rang out across his mind.

~*~*~* Back on the Yydryl *~*~*~

‘He comes in here all full’a himself an tellin’ me it’s ‘Ship’s orders!’ A short stout working Droid with a big red revolving eye laughed like an echo inside a garbage can. ‘Then, the little blighter shoves his blanket into the torpedo chamber and starts this tantrum like, all toothy and gnashing. Ahhhh what a sight it was Skinny ol’mop. You missed a rare treat you did.’ Sighing the rotund model kept up the monolog while submitting to a good cleaning.

The second Droid, a Sanitizing Model, tall, slim with a faux-face and life like arms ending in five fingered hands buffed the older models ‘eye’ shining the revolving light to a brilliant glowing red.

‘Then whad’e do Squib?’ Skinny asked his polishing rag never stopping.

The older Droids revolving eye stopped and pinned the taller Droid in place. ‘That’s ‘Sir’ Squib ta the like a you mate!’ He grumped before busting out laughing again bending over to aid the Droid easy access to clean his wheels, three round spheres that had been replaced by levitators in younger models, something this particular older model wouldn’t hear of.

‘Times come for you to get yer balls taken off there Squib.’ Skinny reminded the Droid his polishing rag flying. ‘Much easier for you to move about without them don‘t ya know.’ He dipped down to whisper the last like it was a well kept secret.

‘Awww, you’ll not find me lopping off my friends there! They been with me since I cracked the mould.’ Squib turned ninety degrees and relaxed against the first good scrubbing he’d had in days.

‘Have it your way mate, but you’ll never make it outta this here torpedo room...’ Skinny started in until he got the big red eye. ‘Sorry mate, go on with your story.’

Obliging, his big eye back to spinning in time to the story Squib went on. ‘So then the hairy lil’bugger jumps on me control panel like he’s got a plan to start pushing me buttons himself!’ Squib’s voice cracks like creaking stairs his eye glowing brighter.

‘Ya don’t say!’ Skinny pulled out a small brush and begun cleaning the creases and welds at the bottom of the older Droids makeup where bio met metal and small green spots of greenish mold-rust needed scuffing away.

‘I do!’ He chortled, ’That I do! Then hisself starts his hopping mad business and doesn’t even wait for the pressure to mark full up before making me go ahead and fire the pipes!’

‘Ya don't say!’ Skinny worried at a worn spot on his friends finish.

‘That I do! Wouldn’t surprise me none if there’s remnants in the cylinder and I don't mind sayin’ it!’

‘Ya don’t say! Skinny knew better than to get on the subject of ‘remnants’ with this one.

‘Quit sayin that ya skinny knobber and finish up.’ Stout cracked him good-naturedly with his metal pincers. ‘And when you’re through with me sprucin’ up you just take a look-see in that number one tube I tell ya.’ Squib moved onto three wheels loosing patience with his overhaul. ’Come on, be a good fella and see what you can find in there. You know I don’t abide so much as a stray speck a dust in them tubes I don’t.’

‘That’s you Squib, always one for perfection you is.’ Skinny righted and switched the used cleaning rag for a new one, the dirtied brush and soiled cloth stuck deep in a side pocket that acted as a garbage receptacle.

‘All joking aside mate, take a peek in ol’number one will ya’? Squib rolled smoothly to the torpedo chamber loosening the port.

‘I dunno about that there Squib.’ Skinny twisted the new cleaning rag in his hands. ’You know I don’t like gettin too near now. Them things, they’s a one way ticket to nowhere they are.’ Skinny shuddered. ’And I never knows when you’re gonna pull a fast one on me. I heard stories about you I have.’ Skinny adds half teasing half serious.

‘Awwww, now Skinny, you know me better than that mate.‘ Squib pouted. ‘Thems stories was high times from a day gone by mate. And on another rig too, not the ol Yydryl here.’ He coughed. ‘The Yydryl’s a straight up ol boat she is. Wouldn’t put up with them kind of shenanigans now would she? And anyway, who’d I have to keep me knob clean now if I were to play such a foul game like that’un on my ol pal Skinny?’ Squib stood as straight as his little round tub could, his eye softening to an innocent pink.

‘Well, if you’re sure now. But remembers, I’m not programmed for chamber cleaning of the torpedo kind...’ Skinny gave a nervous laugh and an exaggerated wink to the shorter Droid.

‘Come on now, quit your stalling and see what you can see. I’ll not roll from my place, a promise is a promise.’ Squib manually opened the chamber and shined his eye light into the smooth slick interior.

‘Why would you have a look at that!’ Skinny whistled and with not so much as lean into the torpedo chamber pulled out a small swatch of fibers woven with animal hairs. ‘Looks like you caught the tip of that lil’ monsters shaggy right here in the bloomin’ door!’ Skinny held up the small tear of fabric before Squibs large revolving eye.

“Now if that isn’t the very thing itself I don‘t know what is!’ Squib says around his awe. ‘I told ya so now didn’t I there mate!’ Squib whacked a extremity against the taller Skinny nearly sending him off balance.

‘That you did, that you did.‘ Skinny paled and moved quickly from the torpedo hatch. ‘So, whatch’a want me to do with it? I’ll not be hunting down his little majesty to give this back I wont, not even for you mate.’ Skinny scowled at the though of looking for Deez, and finding him.

‘Noooo, now don’t even be pondering that boyo. He’d have my head he would. That little piece a work gets too many of us in a bind he does. Thinks he’s running this boat says I.‘

‘Now aint that the Ship’s truth! Yer right, I’ll just put it right back there where’s I founds it and you can give her pipes a sound blow again!‘ Skinny tried to move closer to the torpedo hatch, the Gunny Droid blocked his way.

‘Have you gone daft? I’ll not pressurize her up again for that dirty nipper. Toss it into the rubbish and be done with the day. I don’t believe that little devil anyway. There’s nuthin ‘bads’ in that there wee snip a blanket. He was just all about getting rid of his own trash and giving me a hard line of it to boot is all!’

‘Think of it as done then mate.’ Skinny stuffed the remains of the blanket in his pocket and slid by Squib flicking a snapping crack against his bio-metal with the cleaning cloth and just making it out the door before Squib caught him with his pincers.

‘Hey! Be careful with that bloody thing! You could put me eye out!’ Squib yelped from just inside the door Skinny just beyond reach of retribution.

‘Well now if that aint a pretty sight - you stuck right there in the doorway!' Skinny chuckled, ‘I told ya Squib ol’tank, you want to keep up with the like a me it’s time to cut them balls clean off!’ Skinny made a cutting motion with his hand.

‘That’s ‘Sir Squib’ to the likes a you!‘ Red eye glowing brightly Squib quipped good-naturedly.

Skinny laughed again, flashed his friend a smart salute and turned to leave, the little tuft of blanket already forgotten.

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Virgil Earp handed Doc Holliday the Wells Fargo shotgun as Wyatt had suggested and
eyed the Gambler's pale complexion "you okay Doc?" Virgil asked and noticed the beads
of sweat on his forehead. Nenothtu looked up from the long barrels of the firearm
and his eyes warned his friend's brother not to ask more.

Neno guessed that the closer he got to the actual incident -the more he took on Doc
Holliday's ailments, the taste of blood was in his mouth again and the even though his
skin was sweating, he felt cold to the bone.

"Don't worry about me Virg..."Neno hissed and turned to Wyatt "... just swear me in"
Morgan watched the street and tipped his hat at the watching BIAD/Kate, the little man
with the long beard stood beside the woman in the dark dress.

Neno raised his right hand and took the oath, Wyatt smiled right through the procedure
and patted Doc/Neno's shoulder as he handed him the badge. "Well done Doc, the way
Ike has been going on this morning, we're gonna need your help on this one"
Neno coughed and leaned slightly on the office desk... the world swirled a little, but he
focused on staying upright "... him and that damned Tom McLaury" Neno finished.

Wyatt gave a look of concern regarding Neno's remark towards Virgil and the gravel-voiced
Marshall shrugged back to his younger brother.

A long dark coat laid folded on the chair near the cell door and Morgan passed it to
Neno and said quietly "this may be a bit more discreet?" nodding at the shotgun.
Nenothtu sucked in a deep breath and felt his lungs scream their anger "good idea
-Morg" he croaked and slipped the garment on.

The Boy In A Dress and Tibbs stepped to one side as the three brothers and the sick
Gambler came out of the jail and headed towards the OK Corral, Neno glanced at the
hermaphrodite and BIAD nodded and mouthed the words 'good luck' Tibbs wrung his
hands with nervousness and smiled at the passing Lawmen, the smile faded as he
saw the jutting barrels of the shotgun under Nenothtu's coat.

"Listen guys... if they resist, don't hold back..." Wyatt said as they turned to pass Bauer's
Butcher's shop "... let 'em have it" he finished and glanced at the gaping woman coming
out of the store. The excitement of battle surged in Neno's body giving him renewed
strength and he responded with "all... alright?" and gripped the stock of the shotgun
tighter.

Bill Clanton shot a glance at his brother Ike as the four men appeared in the Corral
entrance, this wasn't the plan they had arranged. Holliday was supposed to be with
the bitch in their room and Wyatt usually took a walk to the Saloon at noon.

The previous day, Frank and Tom McLaury had agreed to visit Doc Holliday's
rooms to apologise for Ike Clanton's uninvited visit and hopefully stir enough trouble
to either kill the sick gambler or at least, put him out of the game.
The absence of Tom's gun would show he was innocent of the thought-up encounter.

Ike Clanton was talking to Billy Claiborne and tried to grab Billy's pistol from his holster,
Ike's gunbelt hung from his horse's saddle near Tom's mount.
Billy ran to retrieve his gunbelt hanging from a neaby wall, while Frank McLaury tossed
his brother a small caliber pistol, the plan was being altered -but must be accomplished
if the Cowboys were to continue in this town.

Virgil took point and shouted "Throw up your hands, I want your guns!" and instantly
realised that he may have invited the Red-Sashes to bring on a hail of bullets.
"Hold! I don't mean that!" he checked and lifted his hands to show he sought no
gun fight.

Neno saw Tom McLaury near Ike's and his own horse and the Gambler's hooded eyes
scanned the rest of the Corral area. A crumbling wall stood at one end of the alleyway,
with a three-bar fence leading off to where horses could be kept. Fly's Boarding
House had a small yard area that seemed to hold a couple of wooden barrels and
a broken-down buggy... then Neno eyes alighted on the smooth features of Tom McLaury.

Neonthtu held the shotgun through a false pocket of the black duster-coat and his thumb
reached and cocked the hammers, this began the Gunfight At OK Corral.

Adam slammed his good hand down on the vanity before turning to slide a hip onto the marble surface, the mirror to his back. Damnit! It was time to talk!

Chumley, Dag, even Milli, they all had answers to questions and were privy to information Adam wasn’t and Adam's character did not support vagaries or mystery. When confronted with the unknown he wanted answers, the truth, not later - now. And Adam’s patience was growing thin with an ugly feeling like he was trapped in the dark. To top it off? He couldn't figure out how his Dag, who he’d been sure died in the Sprint during the attack on LAB had not only survived the wreckage - but had made it safely to the Iliad, safely back to him.

‘His’ Dag. Grateful but baffled Adam let his chin fall to his chest a large sigh doing little to ease the ache from around his heart.

What in the Creator was Adam to do? Dag knew far too much about the Yydryl, a Bio-Ship few even knew existed. Dag had a history with Chumley, and the ‘experiment’ Silo13. And rules! Who knew how many the lad had ignored! LAB had strict gender regulations. Gender and species mixing on any basis was strictly prohibited, but his Dag had spent not just a little but by the sounds of it a lot of alone time with Silo, on LAB and off. Toss another rule out the portal. No LAB ‘Rat’ and especially no LAB experiment was to ever leave LAB without supervision. Ever. The punishment? Immediate extermination.

Adam wanted to yell, wanted to thrash the youth wanted to relieve the fear that had his gut writhing in a tight knot. Either of those infractions was excuse enough for Bransom‘s interest in the Silo13, and the end of them both, Silo and Dag, were Bransom to ever to know the truth. The truth? Exactly what Bransom had sent Adam to find out. No wonder Dag had done his best to help Adam escape from LAB. And now? Bransom? The universe had suddenly grown very small affording no place to hide. Bransom would never stop until she’d terminated the three of them without question - and assuredly without mercy - more than ever after what Adam had done to her.

Adam gave an involuntary shiver and rubbed his hand over his stubbly face and through his damp hair grimacing in pain. His graft had begun to itch. If he didn’t get some relief soon he was in for a rough night of it, and poor Silo out there by the fire more dead than alive? Adam shook his head. Somehow they had to get out of this cabin and to the Yydryl, something he knew he should be focusing on, but instinct told him the answer to all his questions would somehow take them there.

Adam sighed and turned back to the basin, splashed water on his face and this time didn't avoid his own gaze in the mirror. Turning this way and that Adam looked for signs of change, but found none. The face looking back was a little more haggard than usual but was still the face he’d woken up with every day of his life and on some level that surprised him. How could he be the same on the outside when inside he was a boiling mass of uncertainty.

Dag. For a moment he let himself remember. Remember Dag’s small white hand under his, the bones so fragile, the skin so warm and at home nestled in the crater of his palm Adam’s fingers closed around the youths in a unspoken promise of protection and safety. Eyes gone lipid, Dag’s gaze had fluttered across his own then fell to Adam’s lips, the youths pink kitten tongue darting out to wet his own plumped lips he left open in invitation...

Then, just as quick as the realization had struck them both with force, Dag was gone. He'd wrenched his hand from Adam's grip, ducked his chin in that habit of his dropping a sheath of white blond over his eyes so Adam couldn’t read his emotions and turned away. Inconceivably Adam had been hurt, the rejection had stung. Not knowing what to do, or what to say Adam had reached out to the youth but in the end the boy fled the kitchen and, Adam admitted, himself.

The growing discomfort and itching in his graft site interrupted Adam’s reminiscing, made him want to punch the wall. Frustration mounted and rode him hard until he shook his head and grit his teeth. How in the hell could he have let it happen? He’d almost kissed the boy! Probably scared him off and Adam couldn’t even guess what must be going through the lad’s head!

Later they’d all eaten, the big Regalian taking the lions share of the pasta drenched in basil oil, leaving little for Dag and Adam but it hadn’t mattered they’d both lost their appetites. After when Dag had insisted on being left alone to clean up the kitchen? After he’d gone straight to sit by Silo and this time Adam didn’t even try to stop him. But he‘d refused to sit around and watch the trio either. He’d had enough of Chumley's sniveling, Silo’s silent misery and Dag’s big soulful eyes refusing to meet his own.

Adam left them to explore the cabin but only found more questions.

The owner of the cabin? This CindyMars! The truth was unbelievable. Adam was thrilled when finding her treasure trove of novels in an office space on the first floor and surprised beyond delight he knew them all, and all nearly by heart. Ms. Mars! That he’d not put her name to the novels he prized so much over the years only proved the stress he’d been under. But the proof was undeniable, there she was, her well known face from the back of her books matching the face in the photos along her wall, accepting this award or that handshake with a sardonic smile as if she didn‘t understand what the big deal was all about.

But they made a big deal over Ms. Mars, the whole galaxy did. Adam had read every one of her books he could get his hands on, something not so easy to do back from where he came from, but well worth the exorbitant cost and effort. When he’d finally unearthed another title he’d spend many an hour under the influence of Ms. Mars, entertained and enchanted by her keen insight, extraordinary characters and intriguing story lines.

Adam had been captivated by Ms. Mars since reading her first book and was well on the way to being even more taken with her now. Of all places to land, right her in her cabin. Adam shook his head again. It was almost too much for him to take in and smiling he thumbed her copy of ‘Serendipity’ one of his all time favorites. Serendipity. If that didn’t explain it all.

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Resisting the temptation to tuck the novel under his arm Adam continued investigating the cabin, from one room to the next taking in every nuance of Ms. Mars ‘touch’. Her home reflected a woman of charm and good taste, the clothes in her closets simple but expertly made. Hand woven rugs rich in earth tones graced the natural wood floors, the art hanging from the walls all originals. Ceilings high and capped with skylights letting in the out of doors revealing her love for nature. The bathroom he was in now huge even by earth standards with it’s marble tub right out of one of her novels surrounded with smoky mirrors and assorted candles, rich aromatic bath oils waited in gleaming bottles lining the rim. A home. The cabins every inch was layered in comfort, contentment and love making Adam wonder how CindyMars could stay away, making him wish she were there.

Hers was just the mind he needed, the very kind of insight he lacked. Adam pictured her sitting across from him in front of the massive fireplace both he and Ms. Mars settled deep in the leather couch sharing a vintage bottle of wine from her impeccable collection. She‘d listen to him, help him understand. Her intuitive mind would know just the right questions to ask to put this whole unbelievable tale to right.

But soon her face melted into Dag’s and it was his soft pink lips and tongue tasting the rim of the glass. Ms. Mars capable fingers wrapped around the crystal wine stem became the boys fragile ones, nail tips half moons set in choral shells. Ms. Mars tumble of honey blond hair paled to Dag’s ethereal ash white, her wide generous mouth giving way to an impish pucker, a crooked grin.

‘I’m cracking up’. He whispered to himself in the mirror the finger and thumb of one hand pulling down his lower eyelids. He couldn't even keep the boy out of his innocent fantasies! But fantasy is exactly where the youth will stay Adam promised himself before leaving the bathroom ready to confront Dag and get nothing less than answers... All of them.

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BIAD aimed the rifle through the open window at Frank McLaury and held his breath,
his long red-nailed finger curled around the trigger as he nibbled his bottom lip.

Tibbs stood behind the man/girl holding the heavy shotgun ready for the next part
of the plan and a unhappy sigh left the Vithian's lips as the stifling heat of the room
caused his hands to sweat.

Nenothtu, Wyatt, Morgan and Virgil Earp stood in the entrance of the OK Corral facing
the reknowned Cowboys and the afternoon sun looked down on all.
Death -BIAD's brother waited at another window, this one at the Aztec House and the
dark cowl seemed to smolder as the Greatest Deal Of All looked down at Nenothtu.

The Twenty Seconds Time-Changing Event:
Boy In A Dress and Nenothtu fired their weapons at the same time and Frank McLaury fell
in the dirt. Morgan Earp's eyes widened as the injured Cowboy pulled his pistol whilst on
the ground and the smiling man with the Deputy badge realised he was late to pull his own
side-arm.

Wyatt glanced at his friend and saw Doc's smoking Thunderer, he gave silent thanks that
the Gambler hadn't used the shotgun. Billy Clanton saw the Kansas Lawman distracted for
a second and drew his Colt, the bullet flicked at Wyatt's hat.

Virgil reached for his gun as Tom McLaury stepped behind Billy Clanton's startled horse, he
wagered the young man had drawn his weapon and the older-Earp brother crouched for a
better look.

Billy Clanton fired at Doc Holliday and it was only due to Nenothtu's quick reactions that
stopped the bullet shredding his right ear. Neno shot at Billy in response and the Cowboy's
Colt flew from his hand as Neno's bullet drilled through his wrist.
The bullet -the one that should have hit Neno, arced it's trajectory towards the room where
BIAD and Tibbs struggled to reload the rifle and the lead slug shattered an ornate water urn
on the dresser.

BIAD gave off an unusual curse "c*ckKnocker!" as the rifle finally gave in and allowed the
hermaphrodite to insert the Winchester ammunition, Tibbs put his hands to his ears as BIAD
swung the rifle out of the window and fired again.

The wounded Frank McLaury couldn't believe that stupid-looking Morgan Earp looked behind
him for some reason and McLaury took the opportunity to shoot him in the back, Morgan
grunted and slumped to the ground.
Death waved a bony finger at the stomach-bleeding Cowboy and silently urged him to aim
the Colt at the man with the shotgun.

Nenothu tracked Tom McLaury as he used the horse as a shield, all this time -Ike Clanton
screamed that they were all unarmed and should be left alone. Spitting his annoyance in
Wyatt's face, Ike said "You bastard... this is murder!" and Wyatt pushed the dirt-grimed
herder to one side with the response "Go to fighting or get away!

Virgil crouched to see his brother's injuries and Morgan reached out his hand and hissed
with pain "help me up will ya'?" Morgan let air whistle through his teeth as he stood erect.
Wyatt fired again to cover his kin and Frank ducked at the whining missile. Nenothu smiled
as Tom McLaury stepped into open view.

The fleeing Ike Clanton stopped as a man appeared with a rifle, witnesses would later state
this was C. S. Fly -who owned nearby properties. The tall man grinned at the scared-looking
Cowboy and stared into Clanton's red-rimmed eyes.
BIAD would recognise him as Death.

"When I take you Ike, you will scream for eterinty" the steady voice came and Ike's face
showed his confusion as more gunshots rang out.
Billy Clanton had recovered his pistol and with his remaining good hand, he fired a slug into
Virgil's leg, the Lawman grabbed for support from his wounded brother.
Wyatt shot Billy in response and the Red-Sash wearer tumbled to the dirt holding his chest,
Tom bolted at the sight of the blooming blood-rose.

Nenothu put away his handgun and pulled the Wells Fargo from under his coat, the
barrels tracked the fleeing young man.
Tom had grabbed his father's pistol from the blanket near the wall and continued his run,
in one fluid motion -he aimed at the man with the shotgun and fired.
The shotgun pellets ripped into Tom McLaury's armpit as the pistol bucked in Tom's hand,
his bullet found Nenothtu's hip and the Gambler spun with the force.
The Shotgun fell into the Corral dirt and before the stock hit the ground, Neno's gun was
already out of it's holster.

The Doc Holliday-imposter could've swore his shot had missed Tom, but the lad's shirt was
flecked in blood. Neno dumped the musing and set about finishing his deal with Death.
Frank McLaury had other ideas.

"Come on Holliday... fight a real man!" Frank called and let off two bullets at the Gunman.
Neno swung his revolver towards the taunt and shot at the Cowboy, a nearby horse reared
up, took the bullet in it's neck and set off to follow the fleeing Tom McLaury.

Frank saw the chance to escape and grabbing the horse's reins, he ran for Fremont Street with
the pains in his bleeding midriff screaming agony. Wyatt fired at Frank and felt a bullet
whistle passed his left cheek, Billy Clanton was still wanting blood.

Wyatt shouted to Nenothtu "take him!" and turned to deal with Billy as another shot tore
passed Wyatt's face. He crouched and took aim at Clanton, his Peacemaker steady and ready.
Neno broke into a limping run and ignoring the man who he'd rented the room from, he fired
at the retreating Frank.

C.S. Fly watched the clipped-moustached man go by and smiled the smile of a Cobra, "he
will be mine" he murmered and the cowering Ike looked up, a strange comment -he thought.
Fly's form changed and a huge cloak twisted into reality, Ike's eyes were like saucers as Death
showed his true self.
"You won't recall me after all this -Isaac" came a statement and Ike mumbled that he
understood, Death focused on the passing shambling figure and dismissed Ike Clanton with
a wave of his bony hand.

Tibbs patted BIAD's shoulder and whispered "you did your best Mr. Devil... that injury
should be fatal" The man/girl pulled the empty shotgun back in through the window
and stood it against the wall -next to the rifle, "I was hoping to save Nenothtu from doing
Death's bidding... his soul is doomed" he answered softly.


Nenothtu shot Frank in the back of the head without another thought and pushed on
to kill Tom McLaury.
Death snickered from beneath his cowl and somewhere a bell tolled.