Free The Wicked Cyborg by Ron Goulart Page B

obscure magician.”
    Tad said, “I’m Tad . . . in disguise.”
    Bob Phantom narrowed his left eye. “Why, so you are. You and the young lady going to be part of the show?”
    “We hope not,” said Jana.
    “What it is,” Tad told the magician, “we’re sort of in trouble. Mr. Phantom. Quite a few people want to do us harm. So it’s important we get off this boat.”
    “Loitering backstage isn’t helping any, is it?”
    “We have to wait for my robot.”
    “Where is he?”
    “Out there on stage, trying to impersonate Mother Zarzarkas.”
    “I envy you,” said Bob Phantom with a sigh. “Being associated with someone who has such a yearning to perform, who goes on with the show even when there’s danger. Altadena would never do that. I can hardly drag her onstage most evenings. Even when I use my teleportation gift she—”
    “Boo!”
    “Lousy!”
    “Stinko! Phew!”
    “Electro’s not going over very well,” said Jana.
    “Rotten!”
    “Fooey!”
    “Unconvincing and shallow!”
    Electro was nearly through his third ballad. He ceased in midsong. “I can see you clunks don’t appreciate sea chanties.”
    “Boo!”
    “Give us songs of social import!”
    “You buffoons don’t know social import from your elbow,” said the robot. “Now hush up while I conclude ‘The Lighthouse Keeper’s Only Daughter.’ Ahum. Rum tiddy turn, rum tiddy tee, I love Lulu Belle and she loves me. Sing along if you like.”
    “We don’t like!”
    “Mediocre!”
    “Inept finger-picking!”
    “Toss a cobblestone at him, mate!”
    “Good idear!”
    Bonk!
    “Damn,” said Tad, “that brick bit him smack on the head.”
    “Making a telltale metallic thud,” said Jana.
    “Rum tiddy tiddle, rum tiddy tawdle, I can tell my Lulu by the way she waddles.”
    “Terrible rhyme!”
    “An odd sound her old skonce made, mate!”
    “Aye, so it was. Give her another one, bucko!”
    Kathunk!
    “That ain’t no old skwack! That’s a blinking robot in disguise!”
    “Somebody swipe my drag gimmick?” inquired Commodore Snow as he came hurrying through the wings. “That goes against the code of the theater.”
    “Back, you dimbulbs!” warned Electro. He tossed aside his guitar, rolled up a sleeve. He aimed a hand, fingers wide, at the restive audience. “I’ll stun the first manjack who tries to assault me.”
    “Let’s get this blooming gadget, mates!”
    “Let him have it!”
    A wave of a dozen burly men came scrambling over the footlights.
    Zizzle!
    Zzitz!
    Zzang!
    Though several fell stunned, more leaped onto the stage.
    “Seems the whole damn audience is in your cousin’s pay.” Jana took hold of Tad’s hand.
    That distracted him for a few seconds. “There’s too many of them, they’ll overwhelm Electro.”
    “Maybe we can get away while—”
    “No, I can’t abandon him.” He turned to Bob Phantom. “Can you really do that teleportation stunt or is it a trick?”
    “I can really teleport objects and people. It’s a gift,” answered the magician. “I inherited my telekinetic powers from my maternal grandm—”
    “Can you use it now?”
    “This seems an unlikely time to want to see me teleport Altadena from the dressing room to—”
    “I want you to use it on us. Can you teleport our robot and me and Jana off this damn showboat?”
    New dark rings formed under Bob Phantom’s eyes as he considered. “Yes, I believe so. I’ve never done three at once before, nor anyone as bulky as your robot companion. Still, it’s a challenge and I see no reason why I can’t succeed. You want to go right now, I suppose?”
    Out on the stage nine men were piled atop the toppled Electro.
    “Yes, that would be helpful.”
    “You may feel a little initial unease in your stomachs,” said Bob Phantom. “At least Altadena always complains of that, but then she’s a born complainer. Tall, lovely in a cool and distant sort of way and always bitching.” His eyes closed, one hand made lazy circles.
    “Can