turned his back on them all, and left. “Mbikana! You mustn’t—” Nnamdi called after him. “Oh, let him go,” Ajuji cut in, with a satisfied tone, “you mustn’t expect better. After all, he’s practically one of them.” Well maybe he was.
Wolf wasn’t fully aware of where he was going until he found himself at Peabody’s. He circled the building, and found a rear door. He tried the knob: it turned loosely in his hand. Then the door swung open and a heavy, bearded man in coveralls leaned out. “Yes?” he said in an unfriendly tone.
“Uh,” Wolf said. “Maggie Horowitz told me I could drop by.”
“Look, pilgrim, there are a lot of people trying to get backstage. My job is to keep them out unless I know them. I don’t know you.”
Wolf tried to think of some response to this, and failed. He was about to turn away when somebody unseen said, “Oh, let him in, Deke.”
It was Cynthia. “Come on,” she said in a bored voice. “Don’t clog up the doorway.” The guard moved aside, and he entered.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Nada,” she replied. “As Maggie would say. The dressing room is that way, pilgrim.”
“Wolf, honey!” Maggie shrieked. “How’s it going, Ace? Ya catch the show?”
“No, I—”
“You shoulda. I was good. Really good. Janis herself was never better. Hey, gang! Let’s split, hah? Let’s go somewhere and get down and boogie.”
A group of twenty ended up taking over a methane-lit bar outside the zoned-for-electricity sector. Three of the band had brought along their instruments, and they talked the owner into letting them play. The music was droning and monotonous. Maggie listened appreciatively, grinning and moving her head to the music.
“Whatcha think of that, Ace? Pretty good, hey? That’s what we call Dead music.”
Wolf shook his head. “I think it’s well named.”
“Hey, guys, you hear that? Wolf here just made a funny. There’s hope for you yet, honey.” Then she sighed. “Can’t get behind it, huh? That’s really sad, man. I mean they played good music back then; it was real. We’re just echoes, man. Just playing away at them old songs. Got none of our own worth singing.”
“Is that why you’re doing the show, then?” Wolf asked, curious.
Maggie laughed. “Hell, no. I do it because I got the chance. DiStephano got in touch with me—”
“DiStephano? The comptroller?”
“One of his guys, anyway. They had this gig all set up, and they needed someone to play Janis. So they ran a computer search and came up with my name. And they offered me money, and I spent a month or two in Hopkins being worked over, and here I am. On the road to fame and glory.” Her voice rose and warbled and mocked itself on the last phrase.
“Why did you have to go to Hopkins?”
“You don’t think I was born looking like this? They had to change my face around. Changed my voice too, for which God bless. They brought it down lower, widened out my range, gave it the strength to hold on to them high notes and push ’em around.”
“Not to mention the mental implants,” Cynthia said.
“Oh, yeah, and the ’plants so I could talk in a bluesy sorta way without falling out of character,” Maggie said. “But that was minor.”
Wolf was impressed. He had known that Hopkins was good, but this—! “What possible benefit is there for them?”
“Beats the living hell out of me, lover-boy. Don’t know, don’t care, and don’t ask. That’s my motto.”
A long-haired pale young man sitting nearby said, “The government is all hacked up on social engineering. They do a lot of weird things, and you never find out why. You learn not to ask questions.”
“Hey, listen, Hawk, bringing Janis back to life isn’t weird. It’s a beautiful thing to do,” Maggie objected. “Yeah. I only wish they could really bring her back. Sit her down next to me. Love to talk with that lady.”
“You two would tear each other’s eyes out,” Cynthia said.
“What? Why?”
“Neither one of you’d be willing to give up the spotlight to the other.”
Maggie cackled. “Ain’t it the truth? Still, she’s one broad I’d love to have met. A real star, see? Not a goddamned echo like me.”
Hawk broke in, said, “You, Wolf. Where does your pilgrimage take you now? The group goes on tour the day after tomorrow; what are your plans?”
“I don’t really have any,” Wolf said. He explained his situation. “I’ll probably stay in Baltimore until it’s time to go up north. Maybe I’ll take a side trip