Free The Wicked Cyborg by Ron Goulart Page A

agitated captain. “Which, as you know, means he can’t use his entire rhythm section. You’ll have to do the opening spot tonight, Mother Zarzarkas.”
    “Dear me,” said Electro in his exact imitation of the folk singer’s voice. “I’ve promised these two adoring lizard youths to pop over to town for a—”
    “You can do that later.” Snow got a grip on Electro’s arm, started urging him along the deck.
    Electro dragged his feet, halting their progress. “Commodore, I didn’t become the most beloved balladeer in the universe by stiffing my fans or—”
    “What’s bothering the old broad?”
    “Don’t she want to entertain us?”
    “Maybe a few smacks across the choppers will change her mind.”
    Two red lizard men and an albino carman had come tromping up the gangplank. They circled Commodore Snow and Electro, scowling.
    “ Them, “ Tad whispered to the girl. “They were at the inn.”
    “We can wait until you sing,” said Jana, loudly. “You have to please all your fanatical admirers, after all.”
    “Yeah, that’s right,” agreed a lizard man.
    “This liz pussy hit the scroog right square on the bonko,” observed the albino catman. “So let’s hear the old quiff do her stuff. Right now!”
    “This is certainly gratifying.” Electro put one arm around Jana and the other around Tad. “You two little fanatics can wait backstage for me. Soon as I strut my stuff, we’ll pop over to your lovely clubhouse. If you gentlemen will step aside, please.”
    “Sure thing, granny.”
    When they were clear of the goons Electro said, “We should have run for it. I could have stunned the lot of them while—”
    “We don’t know how many others there are,” said Jana. “Or how many weapons they have. A sudden exit will probably bring down a whole troop on us. We’re better off letting them think you’re Mother Zarzarkas.”
    “They know Mother Zarzarkas is a Rhymer Industries spy,” said Tad. “So they must believe you’re on their side.”
    Electro made a throat clearing sound. “Perhaps their violent insistence on my performing is some kind of good-natured lout kidding. Let us hope so.”
    As they entered the backstage area Tad asked, “You can play the guitar, can’t you?”
    “I’m proficient on all instruments,” Electro assured him. “You ought to hear me on the pipe organ.”
    “We want the show!”
    “Let’s have the flapping entertainment!”
    “Where’s the old broad?”
    Commodore Snow appeared. “Sophisticated audience, is it? A gaggle of low-life rowdies is what sits out there,” he said, growling some. “I’m tempted to go back to my boofer monologue.” He stroked his furry chin meditatively. “Though I might do it in drag, thereby getting the best of both routines.” He gave Electro an encouraging pat on the arm, then winced. “You’ve got an impressively solid upper arm, Mother.”
    “Guitar strumming builds me up.”
    “Okay, get out there and do a few of your hits. See if you can get them in a receptive mood for a monologue about dorks.” He loped away, picked up a backstage microphone to announce the impending advent of Mother Zarzarkas.
    “There’s only one thing which gives me concern over this impersonation,” said Electro, unslinging his guitar.
    Tad asked, “What?”
    “I don’t know even one of Mother Z’s ditties.”

Chapter 16
    Shielded by a curtain, Jana scanned the audience. “Twenty-five . . . twenty-six,” she said.
    “You’re not certain, though,” said Tad.
    “I’m pretty sure I can spot a thug when I see one,” she replied. “The whole front row and the second row up until the crow woman in the maroon shift are composed of hoodlums, along with nearly half the third row. I’m also fairly certain those three in the fourth row over there are, too.”
    “The middle one is the drama critic for the Siltville Bulletin, “ said Bob Phantom, who was standing nearby. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Bob Phantom, the