Just Another Judgement Day n-9 Page 5

  Suzie was crashed out on her only piece of furniture, a long couch upholstered in deep red leather. So it won’t show the blood, Suzie had said when I asked, so I stopped asking. She ignored me as I entered the room, her attention fixed on the local news showing on her more modest television set. The room never ceased to depress me. It was bleak, and so empty. Bare wooden floor-boards, bare plaster walls, apart from a huge life-size poster of Diana Rigg as Mrs. Emma Peel in the old Avengers TV show. Suzie had scrawled My Idol across the bottom, in what looked suspiciously like dried blood.

  Her DVDs were stacked in piles against one wall. Her Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan movies, her much-watched copies of Easy Rider and Marianne Faithful in Girl on a Motorcycle. She also had a fond spot for James Cameron’s Aliens and his two Terminator movies. Plus a whole bunch of Roger Cor-man’s Hells Angels movies, which Suzie always claimed were comedies.

  She was wearing her favourite Cleopatra Jones T-shirt over battered blue jeans, and scratching idly at the bare belly between the two, while eating deep-fried calamari nuggets from a bucket. I sat down beside her, and we watched the local news together. The impossibly beautiful presenter was in the middle of a story about a proposed strike by the Nightside sewer workers, who were holding out for bigger flame-throwers and maybe even bazookas. Apparently the giant ants were getting to be a real problem.

  Next, a new Timeslip had opened up in a previously unaffected area, and already members of the Really Dangerous Sports Club were racing to the location, so they could throw themselves in and be the first to find out where they’d end up. Nobody was trying to stop them. In the Nightside we’re great believers in letting everyone go to Hell in their own way.

  And finally, a fanatical Druid terrorist had turned up in the Nightside with his very own backpack nuke wrapped in mistletoe. Fortunately, he had a whole list of demands he wanted to read out first, and he hadn’t got half-way through them before Walker turned up, used his commanding Voice on the Druid, and made him eat his bomb, bit by bit. People were already placing bets as to how far he’d get before the plutonium gave him terminal indigestion.

  Without looking away from the screen, Suzie reached out and placed her left hand lightly on my thigh. I sat very still, but she took the hand away again almost immediately. She tries hard, but she can’t bear to be touched, or to touch anyone else in a friendly way. She was abused as a child, by her own brother; and it left her psychologically scarred. I would have killed the brother, but Suzie beat me to it, years ago. We’re working on the problem, taking our time. We’re as close as we can be.

  So I was surprised when she deliberately put down her calamari bucket, turned to me, and put both her hands on my shoulders. She moved her face in close to mine. I could feel her steady breath on my lips. Her cool, controlled expression didn’t change at all, but I could feel the growing tension in her hands on my shoulders, the sheer effort she had to put into such a small gesture. She snatched her hands away and turned her back on me, shaking her head.

  “It’s all right,” I said. Because you have to say something.

  “It’s not all right! It’ll never be all right!” She still wouldn’t look at me. “How can I love you when I can’t touch you?”

  I took her shoulders in my hands, as gently as I could, and turned her back to face me. She tensed under my touch, despite herself. She met my gaze unflinchingly for a moment, then lunged forward, pressing me back against the couch. She put both her hands on my chest and kissed me with painful fierceness. She kissed me for as long as she could stand it, then pushed herself away from me. She jumped up from the couch and moved away from me, hugging herself tightly as though afraid she’d fly apart. I didn’t know what to say, or do.

  So it was probably just as well that the doorbell rang. I went to answer it, and there at my front door was Walker himself. The man who ran the Nightside, inasmuch as anyone does, or can. A dapper middle-aged gentleman in a smart City suit, complete with old-school tie, bowler hat, and furled umbrella. Anyone else you might have mistaken for someone in the City, some nameless functionary who kept the wheels of business or government turning. But you only had to look into his calm, thoughtful eyes to know how dangerous he was, or could be. Walker had the power of life and death in the Nightside, and it showed. He smiled easily at me.

  “Well,” I said. “This is . . . unexpected. I didn’t think you did house calls. I wasn’t even sure you knew where we lived.”

  “I know where everyone is,” said Walker. “All part of the job.”

  “As a matter of interest,” I said, “how did you get past all the mines, man-traps, and shaped charges we put down to discourage the paparazzi?”

  “I’m Walker.”

  “Of course you are. Well, you’d better come in.”

  “Yes,” said Walker.

  I took him into Suzie’s living-room. He was clearly distressed by the state of the place, but was far too well brought up to say anything. So he smiled brightly, tipped his bowler hat to Suzie, and sat down on the couch without any discernable hesitation. I sat down beside him. Suzie leaned back against the nearest wall, arms tightly folded, glaring unwaveringly at Walker. If he was in any way disturbed, he did a good job of hiding it. Surprisingly, he didn’t immediately launch into whatever business had brought him to my home for the very first time. Instead, he made small-talk, was polite and interested and even charming, until I felt like screaming. With Walker, you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Usually he speaks to me only when he absolutely has to—when he wants to hire me, or have me killed, or drop me right in it. This new friendly approach . . . just wasn’t Walker. But I played along, nodding in all the right places, while Suzie scowled so fiercely it must have hurt her forehead.

  Finally, Walker ran out of inconsequential things to say and looked at me thoughtfully. Something big was coming—I could feel it. So I did my best to avert it with other business, if only to assert my independence.

  “So,” I said. “Did you get all the Parlour’s patients safely back to their home dimension?”

  “I’m afraid not,” said Walker. “Less than half, in the end. Many didn’t survive being separated from their life-support technology. Many more died from the shock of what had been done to them. And quite a few were in no fit physical or mental state to be sent anywhere. They’re being cared for, in the hope that their condition will improve, but the doctors . . . are not hopeful.”

  “Less than half?” I said. “I didn’t go through all that just to save less than half!”

  “You saved as many as you could,” said Walker. “That’s always been my job—to save as many people as possible.”

  “Even if you have to sacrifice some of your own people along the way?” I said.

  “Exactly,” said Walker.

  “Why should you get to decide who lives and who dies?” said Suzie.

  “I don’t,” said Walker. “That’s up to the Authorities.”

  “But they’re dead,” I said. “We were both there when they were killed and eaten by Lilith’s monstrous children. So who . . . exactly . . . pulls your strings these days?”

  “The new Authorities,” said Walker, smiling pleasantly. “That’s why I’m here. I need you to come with me and meet the new Authorities.”

  I considered him thoughtfully. “Now you know very well I’ve never got on with authority figures.”

  “These people . . . are different,” said Walker.

  “Why now?” I said.

  “Because the Walking Man has finally come to the Nightside,” said Walker.

  I sat up straight, and Suzie pushed herself away from the wall. Walker’s voice was as cool and collected as always, but some statements have a power all their own. I would have sworn the room was suddenly colder.

  “How do you know it’s really him and not just some wannabe?” said Suzie.

  “Because it’s my business to know things like that,” said Walker. “The Walking Man, the wrath of God in the world of men
, the most powerful and scariest agent of the Good, ever, has come at last to the Nightside to punish the guilty. And everyone here is either running for the horizon, barricading themselves in while arming themselves to the teeth, or hiding under their beds and wetting themselves. And every single one of them is looking to the new Authorities to do something.”

  Suzie paced up and down the room, scowling heavily, her thumbs tucked in the top of her jeans. She might have been worried, or she might have been relishing the challenge. She wasn’t scared. Suzie didn’t get scared or intimidated. Those were things that happened to other people, usually because of Suzie. She sat down abruptly on the edge of the couch, next to me. Close though she was, she still didn’t quite touch me. I caught Walker noticing that, and he nodded slowly.

  “So close,” he said. “In every way but one.”

  I gave him my best hard look, but to his credit he didn’t flinch. “Is there anything you don’t know about?” I said.

  He smiled briefly. “You’d be surprised.”

  “It’s none of your business,” said Suzie. “And if you say anything to anyone, I’ll kill you.”

  “You’d be surprised how many people already know, or guess,” said Walker. “It’s hard to keep secrets in the Nightside. I am merely . . . concerned.”

  “Why?” I said bluntly. “What are we, to you? What have I ever been to you, except a threat to your precious status quo, or an expendable agent for some mission too dangerous or too dirty for your own people? And now, suddenly, you’re concerned about me? Why, for God’s sake?”

  “Because you’re my son,” said Walker. “In every way that matters.”

  He couldn’t have surprised me more if he’d taken out a gun and shot me. Suzie and I looked blankly at each other, then back at Walker, but he gave every indication of being perfectly serious. He smiled briefly, holding his dignity close about him.

  “We’ve never really talked, have we?” he said. “Only shared a few threats and insults, in passing . . . or discussed the details of some case we had to work on together. All very brisk and businesslike. You can’t afford to get too close to someone you know you may have to kill one day. But things are different now, in so many ways.”

  “I thought you had two sons?” I said. I didn’t know what else to say.

  “Oh yes,” said Walker. “Good boys, both of them. We don’t talk. What could we talk about? I’ve gone to great pains to ensure that neither they nor their mother has any idea what it is I do for a living. They know nothing about the Nightside, or the terrible things I have to do here, just to keep the peace. I couldn’t bear it if they knew. They might look at me as though I were some kind of monster. I used to be so good at keeping my two lives separate. Two lives, two Walkers, doing my best to give equal time to both. But the Nightside is a jealous mistress . . . and what used to be my real life, my sane and rational life, got sacrificed to the greater good.

  “My boys, my fine boys . . . are strangers to me now. You’re all I’ve got, John. The only son of my oldest friend. I’d forgotten how much that time meant to me, until I met your father again during the Lilith War. Those happy days of our youth . . . We thought we were going to change the world; and unfortunately we did. Now your father is gone, again, and you’re all I’ve got left, John. Perhaps the nearest thing to a real son I’ll ever have. The only son who could ever hope to understand me.”

  “How many times have you tried to kill me?” I said. “Directly, or indirectly?”

  “That’s family for you,” said Walker. “In the Nightside.”

  I looked at him for a long time.

  “Don’t listen to him,” said Suzie. “You can’t believe him. It’s Walker.”

  “The words manipulative and emotional blackmail do spring to mind,” I said. “This is all so sudden, Walker.”

  “I know,” he said calmly. “I put it all down to midlife crisis myself.”

  “And where does all this leave us?” I said.

  “Exactly where we were before,” said Walker. “We’ll still probably end up having to kill each other, someday. For what will no doubt seem like perfectly good reasons at the time. But it means . . . I’m allowed to be concerned. About you, and Suzie. And no, you don’t get a say in the matter.”

  “We’re doing fine,” said Suzie. “We’re making progress.”

  She let one arm rest casually across my shoulders. And I hope only I could tell what the effort cost her.

  “Let us talk about the Walking Man,” I said. Everything else could wait till later, after I’d had more time to think about it. “He’s never come here before. So, why now?”

  “In the past, the Nightside’s unique nature kept out all direct agents of Heaven and Hell,” said Walker. “But since Lilith was banished again, it appears a subtle change has come over the Nightside, and many things that were not possible before are cropping up now with regrettable regularity.”

  “So all kinds of agents for the Good could be turning up here?” I said.

  “Or agents of Evil,” said Suzie.

  “Well, quite,” murmured Walker. “As if things weren’t complicated enough . . .”

  “Still,” I said, “what’s bringing the Walking Man here now?”

  “It would appear he disapproves of the new Authorities,” said Walker. “The group whose interests I now represent.”

  “That’s why you’re here!” I said. “Because if they’re in danger, so are you!”

  Walker smiled and said nothing.

  “Who are they?” said Suzie. “These new Authorities? The old bunch were nothing more than faceless businessmen who ran things because they owned most of the Nightside. So, are we talking about their families? The next generation? Meet the new boss, same as the old boss, don’t get screwed again?”

  “The inheritors?” said Walker, with something very like a sniff. “They wish. We saw them off. One quick glimpse of what actually goes on here, and they couldn’t sell their holdings fast enough. No . . . Certain personages in the Nightside have come together to represent the main interests in this place. Essentially, the Nightside is now determined to run itself.”

  “Who, exactly?” I said. “Who are these brand-new self-appointed Authorities? Do I know them?”

  “Some of them, certainly,” said Walker. “They all know you. That’s why I’m here.”

  “How can you serve people from the Nightside?” I said, honestly curious. “You’ve never made any secret about your feelings for us. You always said the best thing to do would be to nuke the place and wipe out the whole damned freak show once and for all.”

  “I’ve mellowed,” said Walker. “Just possibly, these new Authorities can bring about real change, from within. I would like to see that, before I die. Now, come with me and meet the new Authorities. Hear what they have to say; learn what they mean to do. Before the Walking Man tracks them down and kills them all.”

  “But what do they want with me and Suzie?” I said.

  Walker raised an eyebrow. “I would have thought that was obvious. They want you to use your gift to find the Walking Man, then find a way to stop him. Shall we go?”

  THREE

  Not Really Fitting In at All at the Adventurers Club

  I let Suzie finish setting up the house’s defences while Walker and I stood outside in what used to be the garden, not looking at each other. Suzie always likes arming the hidden charges and taking the safeties off the concealed weaponry and contemplating the mayhem and general carnage that will undoubtedly ensue if anyone is dumb enough to try to get into the house while we’re out. One very professional burglar actually made it all the way to our front door once, and the door ate him. The letter-box was spitting out bone fragments for weeks afterwards.

  I was still thinking about what Walker had said. You’re my son, in every way that matters. You can’t just drop an emotional bomb-shell like that into the conversation and expect everyone to act all business-like afterwards, as though nothing had happened. Unless you
’re Walker, I suppose. That calm, collected, cold-hearted functionary, who only runs the Nightside because he doesn’t trust anyone else to do the job properly. Who always has an agenda, and a secret goal hidden inside every end game. Was he telling the truth this time? With Walker you could never tell, until it was too late. And what did I feel about him, after all these years? He’s always been there, in the background of my life, sometimes helping, sometimes watching, sometimes sending his dogs after me. He’s tried to have me killed on several occasions, but I never took that personally. For Walker, it was always just business.

  I respected him. Even admired him on occasion, from a safe distance. But you couldn’t like Walker. He wouldn’t let you. He never let anyone get close enough to see the real him.

  Suzie slammed the front door shut and muttered the last few activating Words, then I led us down the safe path, through the mine-field. Walker strode casually along beside me, swinging his furled umbrella like a walking-stick. Typical of the man. You could set fire to his old-school tie, and it still wouldn’t affect his stiff upper lip. Walker was old school all the way, and proud of it. Family means a lot, to people like him. It’s all they’ve got outside duty.

  Once we were safely out on the street, Walker drew his gold watch from his waistcoat pocket and looked at me thoughtfully.

  “I’m about to share one of my greatest secrets with you, John, Suzie. So do pay attention. I don’t tell them to just anyone. So, basically, Timeslips don’t just happen. Well, actually yes they do, suddenly and violently and all over the place. Bloody things are always popping up exactly where they’re least needed and making trouble for everyone . . . But, there is a reason, a pattern, behind their appearances, and some people have learned to control them. Like Mammon Emporium . . .”