The Demi-Monde: Summer (13 page)

‘You consult some book—’

‘As you will learn, Norma, the iChing is not “some book”; it is a means by which we can allow the Qi of the Kosmos to inform us of ABBA’s intentions.’

‘Wow, well, that’s a real load off my mind. Let me ask a question: has
anyone
who’s been taken into the Forbidding City ever escaped from it?’

There was some embarrassed fidgeting. ‘Whilst no one has ever escaped from the Forbidding City we are quite confident—’

‘Quite?’

‘You will have ABBA on your side. And Mata Hari will be there waiting to guide you to safety when you finally escape.’

‘Marvellous.’

Imperial Secretary, NoN Mao ZeDong was of the opinion that the eating of river cucumbers was a violation of the spirit of HerEticalism. It was the shape of the things that he found most objectionable: there was something disturbingly
phallic
about them and thus it was wrong for any HerEtically inclined Femme to enjoy putting them in her mouth. They were a distressingly
heterosexual
titbit and though he had done his best to rid himself of these reactionary urges it was unsettling to be reminded of what he once was …

Unfortunately, river cucumbers were a favourite snack of Empress Wu, and as a consequence, Mao’s disgust as he stood watching her gulp the foul things down had to remain unvoiced. Empress Wu, having been Blessed by ABBA, was divine and hence beyond criticism, so all he could do was to keep his gaze fixed at a point thirty centimetres or so to the left of the Empress’s shoulder and thirty centimetres above it and do his best to ignore the revolting slurping sounds she made as she devoured the damned things. Of course, that the river cucumbers were being fed to the Empress by a naked Fresh Bloom did add a frisson of eroticism to the act, but not enough to make it watchable.

The other small mercy was that this meeting with the Empress was taking place in the Hall of Supreme Harmony, the largest and grandest of all the halls in the Forbidding City and the one that Mao liked the most. It was the hall used only for the most important of meetings and hence it was here that Li – the unbending ritual that suffused and commanded every action of the Empress’s servants and that ensured that they always acted as Superior Servants should – was at its most oppressive. This made audiences held in the hall tense affairs, where any violation of Li was summarily – and cruelly – dealt with. And if there was one thing that Mao truly relished, that made his soul soar, it was the meting out of cruel punishments … especially when the recipient was a Fresh Bloom. Their screams were as music to his ears.

But there were other reasons why he preferred the Hall of Supreme Harmony to all others: it was, in his opinion, the most beautiful of the state rooms in the Forbidding City. He loved the wonderful paintings of dragons – the Empress’s emblem – that decorated the room, especially as the dragons were shown
in the throes of devouring nonFemmes. He delighted in the beautiful renderings of the torment these grotesquely untrimmed males endured as they were eaten, crushed, clawed and burned by the rampaging dragons. As far as Mao was concerned, in an ideal world – in a
MostBien
world – such would be the fate of all uncastrated nonFemmes. Oh, how he would love to see them suffer for the scorn they had directed towards him and the other NoNs who laboured to make the Coven the haven for HerEticalism it was.

‘What news of the Daemon?’ The Empress’s question snapped Mao out of his reverie.

Fortunately, years of training allowed him to maintain the bland expression with which he permanently dressed his face. It would be better, he decided, that the Empress did not learn of the Daemon’s escape, not now the bitch had been successfully recaptured. Anyway, divulging this would necessitate him criticising Lucrezia Borgia, and that was an activity not conducive to the enjoyment of a long life. Borgia was a
very
vindictive Femme.

As it was the first time he had addressed the Empress that day, he bowed – his body forming the precise forty-five-degree angle to his legs demanded by Li – counted slowly to nine and then stood upright.

‘I salute the True Empress, and pray that ABBA grants her Nine Thousand Years of Peace and Contentment. Great Empress Wu, Mistress of the Demi-Monde, of the Great Beyond and of all the Kosmos, Blessed and Much Beloved by ABBA and Defender of the Faith of HerEticalism, it gives me much pleasure to announce that the Daemon is now, even as we speak, en route to the Forbidding City.’

‘Good, we would make much enquiry of her.’

Excellent
. He so enjoyed the wailing that was the inevitable accompaniment of the Empress’s ‘enquiries’.

‘Yes … have the Daemon brought here to the Hall of Supreme Harmony. We would examine her and consult with the iChing regarding the disturbances she has wrought to the harmony of the Kosmos.’ The Empress paused to slurp down another river cucumber. ‘It will be interesting, will it not, to see if the rumours about Daemons being full of blood are true?’ she mused. ‘Once the divinations are complete, we will have this Daemon whipped and if it bleeds then we will have all the proof we require.’

The prospect of whipping the Daemon caused something miraculous to happen: the Empress smiled, and as she did so there was an almost palpable sigh of relief emanating from those standing in attendance. Perhaps, Mao prayed, she was at last putting the concerns resulting from the less than propitious auguries given by the last reading of the iChing behind her and was once again finding Inner Contentment. She always enjoyed a good whipping.

‘And has the
gaijin
Trixie Dashwood concluded her inspection of our defences, Imperial Secretary?’

‘She has, Your Majesty,’ smarmed Mao, ‘and has pronounced herself astonished by the great and profound preparations you have made to repel these upstart heathens and foul heterosexuals the ForthRightists.’

‘She made no criticism?’

‘It is impossible to conceive that any could criticise your divinely inspired orders, Your Majesty. She has, however, asked that our Reservists be called up.’

‘Is this necessary? We are of the opinion that one Femme fighter is the equal of five nonFemmes.’

‘Of course, Your Majesty, this is the case, but I felt it wise to allow GeneralFemme Dashwood some independence of action to reinforce the ridiculous notion that it is she who guides and commands our army and navy. She is a great believer in military commanders demonstrating what she calls “initiative”.’

Mao stole a quick glance at the Empress to gauge her reaction. The Empress wasn’t a great believer in ‘initiative’, being of the opinion that it was only a short step from ‘initiative’ to ‘sedition’. Luckily for him, she seemed to be in a mood to be indulgent.

‘Very well, let her play her nasty little military games. There is something distinctly masculine about that Femme which we find quite revolting. We find it quite astonishing that ABBA, in Her ineffable wisdom, should choose someone so
inappropriate
to be the saviour of the Coven, but we suppose, as ReverendFemme Dark saw fit to have herself killed at such an inconvenient time, ABBA had little alternative. It is, after all, imperative that we have a competent Femme commanding the army, and by all accounts Dashwood is nothing if not competent in matters martial.’

Mao found himself agreeing with his Empress’s assessment. That Dashwood was a masculine Femme – the most serious criticism that could be directed at a Femme in the Coven – was undeniable.
Very
masculine, in fact: he had been in attendance when she had attempted to assassinate Archie Clement and had seen at first hand just what a resolute bitch she was.

It was as though the Empress read his thoughts. ‘She must, however, be controlled, and left in no doubt that if she disobeys our orders, there will be reprisals.’

‘I have ensured that the remnants of the Warsaw Free Army are being closely guarded, Your Majesty, and GeneralFemme Dashwood has been advised that should she act in a manner that may, in any way, be construed as anti-Covenite or anti-HerEtical, then the most severe punishments will be visited upon them.’

‘We are inclined to dispose of them now,’ muttered the Empress as she held her head back to allow another river cucumber to be placed in her mouth.

Mao shuddered. ‘Perhaps it might be wiser to wait until after the ForthRight attack, Your Majesty,’ he stammered. ‘If word of any culling were to reach the GeneralFemme, it might have a prejudicial effect on her performance.’

The Empress crunched down on the cucumber, then smacked her lips. ‘You are correct, Imperial Secretary, we need the
gaijin
to defend us until we are ready to strike back at the ForthRight.’ The Empress allowed the Fresh Bloom to dab a cloth on her lips. ‘But speaking of culling: how go the efforts of Scientist-Femme Dr Ptah in this regard?’

‘I have interviewed the Doctor, Your Majesty, and understand that Project YiYi will soon be completed and the means to eradicate nonFemmes finally within our grasp.’

‘In “our” grasp, Imperial Secretary?’

A stupid slip of the tongue and one which had to be remedied whilst he still had a tongue.

‘I apologise, Your Majesty: in
your
grasp,’ he corrected quickly. ‘We are in the final stages of bringing the fermentation vats housed in Hereji-Jo Castle to working temperature. It should be possible to begin quantity production of the Plague within eighty days, with deployment in the rivers on the final day of Summer. Clinical trials indicate that within two weeks of the Plague’s deployment the contamination that is the nonFemme population of the Demi-Monde will have been eradicated. If all proceeds to plan, by the fourteenth day of Fall the only nonFemmes existing in the Demi-Monde will be those you have permitted to live, Your Majesty.’

‘Effectiveness?’

‘One hundred per cent. Any uncastrated nonFemmes drinking water infused with the Plague or coming into contact with a nonFemme who has already contracted the Plague will be dead within ten days.’

‘So quickly? It must have a very short incubation period.’

‘Four to five days.’

‘Contagious?’

‘Very. The Plague is transmitted directly, nonFemme to nonFemme, and it is this which makes it so deadly. Every time an infected nonFemme coughs or sneezes, he will infect those around him.’

‘You are sure it has no effect on Femmes?’

‘Clinical trials were conducted using delinquent Femmes who have refused to indulge in Femme2Femme sex. They were unaffected.’

‘NoNs?’

‘It is ineffective against NoNs, Your Majesty.’ It had been the first question he had posed to that witch Dr Ptah. Mao was no fool.

‘How will nonFemmes infected by the Plague die?’

‘The Plague is a form of filovirus that is closely akin to the bubonic plague. It attacks the Solidified Astral Ether, causing the lumps – the buboes – which characterise the disease. Death itself comes from necrosis of the body’s SAE – it literally melts – and, as might be expected, is hugely painful.’

Mao paused for a moment to relish the thought of the suffering these ungelded bastards would soon be enduring. Then they wouldn’t be inclined to laugh at him; then there would be no more snickering behind his back.

Bastards … he hated them all.

‘Excellent,’ said the Empress with relish. ‘This pain will repay nonFemmes for the suffering they have inflicted on Femmes over the past millennium.’ A thought seemed to strike her. ‘Is there any way in which nonFemmes can protect themselves from the disease?’

‘Only by the strictest of quarantine, as we are doing with the nonFemmes who make up the One Per Cent Stock, but in reality the Plague’s onslaught will be so rapid and so devastating that
before nonFemmes can take the measures necessary to protect themselves, they will be dead.’

‘The One Per Cent Stock will be held safe?’

‘They will be moved to special quarters tomorrow and a cordon sanitaire placed around it by Amazons of the First HerEtical Foot. All the water used by the One Per Cent Stock will be drawn from special tanks containing sterilised water. They will remain in quarantine until the Plague has run its course.’

‘Excellent. So in ninety days we will be living in what to all intents and purposes is a nonFemme-free world. Then we will be free to devote all our energy to solving the riddle that is parthenogenesis.’ Just for an instant the sleepy, almost careless expression on the Empress’s face was replaced by one considerably more cruel and calculating. ‘So we must hold the ForthRight at bay for ninety days. You will issue orders, Imperial Secretary, that immediately the ForthRight invasion begins, the Gates of the Great Wall are to be sealed and no refugees from Rangoon or Tokyo are to be permitted into Beijing. You will issue a proclamation stating that their Empress demands that all Femmes fight to their last breath to defend the Coven from the onslaught of the heterosexual invaders.’

‘And the children?’

‘There will be no exceptions.’

Mao was provoked into making an observation. ‘The death toll will be enormous, Your Majesty, there are three million people—’

‘Let them all die. If by dying they delay the ForthRight’s advance until the Plague is ready to be deployed, then that is a sacrifice we are willing to make. If by dying they enable the Demi-Monde to enter the blissful state of MostBien, then that is a sacrifice we are willing to make.’