CHAPTER 9

Blame it on being ready to rock & roll . . .

In the South of modern England, a truly deserted piece of moorland is hard to find. Still, at ten to midnight, the tor called Black Shuck's Kennel in the middle of several square miles of bleak heath seemed likely to be quiet enough. Or that's what the thirteen naked caperers around the bonfire, complete with sacrificial stone and black cock, thought.

Then the hovercraft suddenly whooshed out of the darkness, scattering the fire, and someone loosed a tracer-streaked machine-gun burst over their heads.

Even though, six feet to the left of the tor, the hovercraft abruptly winked out of existence, it shattered their illusion of secrecy. It also led to several instant conversions. Satanism may have the cavorting around in the altogether part (which can be fun in itself), but it equips one very poorly for running frantically across the moor. You never realize just how many gorse and bramble bushes grow to having their thorny tips at just upper-thigh height, until you try this.

The zoologist who had been setting bat-traps on the far side of the tor angrily considered complaining to the Ministry of Defense, as he comforted the naked girl who had run into his mist-nets. But by the time he'd comforted her for the fifth time, he decided to let sleeping dogs lie. He just wished she'd let him lie.

"Mario, just what were them kids playin' at?" The muscular Consultant Executive in the three-piece suit shifted the gum in his mouth, as he checked the belt-feed of the M60.

"I t'ink it was-a black Sabbath, Nick. Pity you missed dose bastards."

"Ah! I've heard about them. Like the Beatles and the Rolling Stones. These bloody rock groups. Buy everything for their parties. I hope they liked my percussion. Still, you see strange things on these trips"

Smooth Mario shuddered. "You can-a say dat again."

They flew out of the grayness and into the wintry afternoon light of Zoar, seven feet above the ground and moving at about fifty miles an hour. By the time their eyes had adjusted to the sudden brightness, the raft full of heroes was less than fifty yards off.

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