Bimbos of the Death Sun Read Online Free Page B

edged his way past a Dorsai and said to the first book dealer, “Do you have any books byOmega?”
     
    “Matheson,” said the dealer promptly, pulling out a hardback.
     
    “I beg your pardon?”
     
    “Richard Matheson wrote it.
The Omega Man
. A TV movie starring Charlton Heston. They changed the ending, though. The original title was
I Am Legend
. This is a first edition.”
     
    “No, that’s not it.”
     
    “Hmmn. Kane Omega,
Cosmic Sex
, Lyle Stuart, 1973.”
     
    “No. That’s not it, either.”
     
    “I see you have my Runewind series,” said a solemn voice behind him. “Shall I autograph these for you?”
     
    Jay Omega turned around with outstretched hand. “Appin Dun …” His voice trailed away.
     
    The young man behind him, a few inches taller than Omega himself, wore a white satin tunic and a wool homespun cloak. His bone-white hair fell to his shoulders, and his green eyes burned with intensity. He stood spread-eagled in white tights and scuffed leather buskins, one hand resting on his broadsword, and smiled benignly at the mortals in his path. With graceful dignity he accepted Omega’s outstretched hand, which was still dangling in the air as he gaped.
     
    “No,” he smiled gently. “I am not He Who Writes the Saga, but He Who Lives It. I am Tratyn Runewind, Lord of the Eildon Hills, Wielder of the Red Gold Sword of Cu Chulainn, son of Aiofe and the Runewolf—”
     
    “Dog meat if Dungannon sees you,” Diefenbaker remarked. “You know how he feels about people impersonating his character, Cliff.”
     
    The Presence lifted his chin and endeavored to look noble. “The Scribe’s envy is an affair for his soul, not mine,” he intoned.
     
    “He threw a water carafe at you at World Con,” the bookseller pointed out.
     
    “He once chased a Runewind down three flights of steps with a battle-axe!” said the Dorsai.
     
    “Of course, he did!” snapped the Rune Warrior. “That was an imposter!”
     
    “If he hears that you’ve been offering to autograph his books, you’ll probably die from the aftershock of his rage.”
     
    “Well, I may change after the costume competition,” the warrior conceded.
     
    Diefenbaker was about to continue the discussion, but at that moment Miles Perry appeared, waving two packs of Reese’s Pieces and three Yorkie bars. “I got them!” he announced breathlessly. “The Scotch guy said this would work.”
     
    Diefenbaker frowned. “I think some of the colors are different.”
     
    “Which ones?”
     
    “I’d have to think about it.”
     
    “Come on, then. You get to sort them out. He wants them in twenty minutes.”
     
    Diefenbaker cast a helpless look at Jay Omega, as he was being dragged away. “I’ll be back! Perhaps someone else could show you the gadget room …”
     
    Left unattended, Jay Omega decided to spare himself the further humiliation of inquiring after his book. Instead he would find the gadget room on his own. A poster-sized map taped to a pillar in the hucksters’ room provided reasonably clear directions. A large red arrow in the lower right-handcorner was labeled “You Are Here.” In the lower left-hand corner, a facetious physicist had penciled in, “You maybe here. Werner Heisenberg.” Omega smiled. After so much uninterrupted bewilderment, it felt good to get the joke. He took this as a hopeful sign that things would make more sense among the computers.
     
    “Dr. Mega!”
     
    Among the computer displays, air ionizers, and laser models sat Joel Schumann, a junior from last semester’s microprocessing class. Omega groaned inwardly. He should have known that this would happen. One of his students had turned up at the con, and would soon discover the professor’s guilty secret:
Bimbos of the Death Sun
. He might be able to swear Joel to secrecy, though. Omega took the offensive. “Er, what are you doing here, Joel?” the professor asked innocently.
     
    The lanky blond grinned and tapped a computer