The Unnatural Inquirer (11 page)

“There have always been wars, and destruction, and changes at the top,” Walker said calmly. “But the Nightside goes on. It has survived for thousands of years, and I see no reason why it shouldn’t continue as it is for thousands more. The world has always had a taste for freak shows.”

General Condor scowled. “That might have been true while the Authorities were running things and supporting the Nightside in the same way a farmer looks after the goose that lays golden eggs; but they’re gone now. Along with their blinkered preoccupation with trade and profit. It’s time for someone to take the longer view and make the Nightside into something better.”

“Nothing wrong with making money,” Uptown Taffy Lewis said immediately. His voice was soft and breathy, his great chest and belly rising and falling as though every breath cost him something. “The Nightside exists to provide people with the pleasures and pursuits they can’t get anywhere else. The things civilised people aren’t supposed to want, but do anyway. And they’ll pay through the nose for it, every time. Keep your rigid morality to yourself, General. We don’t need simpleminded do-gooders coming in from outside and meddling with a system that’s worked fine for thousands of years.”

“The man has a point, General,” said Walker. “It’s hard to argue with success.”

“All the things I’ve seen here,” said the General, “the marvels and wonders, the amazing achievements, the incredible possibilities…If you would only work together instead of cutting each other’s throats over a penny’s profits, the things you could do…The Nightside could become the pinnacle of human civilisation! Instead of the moral cesspit it is now. You could all be gods if you’d only throw off the chains that hold you back!”

“Not everyone wants to be a god,” said Walker. “In fact, I’d say we already have far too many. I’ve been thinking about ordering a cull…Too many Chiefs only confuse the Indians. Wouldn’t you agree, Helena?”

“You may address me as Queen Helena, or Your Majesty,” she said immediately, her voice suitably chilly. The other two looked at her sharply. You didn’t talk that way to Walker if you liked breathing, and having your bones stay where they were. But he nodded thoughtfully to Queen Helena, and she continued.

“People must know their place. For many, it is their nature to be ruled. To have someone ready to make the important decisions for them. I am not a lone voice in this. I speak for others such as I in the Nightside.”

“The Exiles,” said Walker. “All the other kings and queens and emperors who wound up here, via Timeslips or other unfortunate accidents. So many that there seems to be something of a glut of rulers on the market, at the moment.”

“People of power and prestige,” Queen Helena said firmly. “People who do not care for the way things are. The Nightside needs to be taken in hand and ruled by people suited to the task.”

“Would you agree with that, Taffy?” said Walker.

“No-one tells me what to do,” said Uptown Taffy Lewis. He almost sounded amused. “No-one rules the Nightside. Never has, never will. We make our own way. This is the last truly free place left on Earth, where everything and anything is possible. Even the Authorities knew enough to keep their distance. Right, Walker? I represent people, too. I speak for the businesspeople of the Nightside, and we will not stand by and see our rights trampled on.” He glared at Helena, and then at General Condor. “You don’t belong here, either of you. We like the Nightside just the way it is; and neither of you have the support or the power to change anything that matters. I own most of the land the Nightside stands on; my associates own most of the rest. We can bankrupt anyone who doesn’t back us up. And we can raise armies, if necessary, to defend what is ours.”

“I have led armies,” said General Condor. “There’s more to it than giving orders.”

“I have led armies, too,” said Queen Helena. Something in her voice made the others look at her. She smiled coldly. “I did not come here by accident. No arbitrary Timeslip brought me here; I can go home anytime I want. To the ancient and melancholy Ice Kingdoms, where my armies wait for me. It has been a long time since the Armies of the Evening have had a cause worth fighting for. Because we killed everyone else who stood against us, in the long twilight of Earth. I have no wish to be Queen of an empty world. Not when I can bring my armies here and make the Nightside my own.”

General Condor and Uptown Taffy Lewis looked at her, then at each other, and finally at Walker, who smiled easily.

“Why risk your armies, and your life, to secure a city, when you already have a world of your own?”

Queen Helena smiled back at him coldly, her blue-tinged lips drawing back to reveal perfect sharp teeth. “I like it here. It’s warm.”

“Ice melts when the going gets hot,” said Taffy.

“You dare?” Queen Helena stood up, glaring down at them all. Strange metallic shapes surfaced in the blue-white flesh of her arms. Silver-grey barrels targeted Taffy and the General.

“That’s enough!” Walker didn’t stand up. He didn’t need to. He was using the Voice. “Put your weapons away, Helena.”

The Queen of the Evening shook and shuddered, her lips drawing back in a frustrated grimace, as she fought the Voice and failed. The implanted technology sank back into her arms, bluish skin closing seamlessly over it. She snarled furiously at Walker, a fierce, animal sound, then she turned abruptly and stalked away. Servants hurried to get out of her way. General Condor and Uptown Taffy Lewis rose to their feet, bowed stiffly to Walker, and then they left, too, careful to maintain a respectful distance between them. Perhaps they were worried Walker would use the Voice on them. He watched them go thoughtfully, and then turned unhurriedly in his chair and looked right at me.

“I’ll see you now, Taylor.”

I nodded and smiled, and moved unhurriedly forward to join him at his table. Bettie stuck close to my side.

“How did he know we were there?” she whispered.

“He’s Walker,” I said.

Bettie and I sat down in the newly vacated seats, facing Walker. He looked perfectly calm and at ease in his elegant city suit, his public school tie neatly tied in a Windsor knot. He didn’t seem particularly pleased to see me, but then he rarely did.

“Nicely played,” I said. “You set them at each other’s throats without once having to make clear your own position. It’s always good to see a real professional at work.”

Walker smiled briefly and turned his attention to Bettie. “I see we have a representative of the Press with us. And a more charming example than most. I feel I should warn you that recording devices won’t function inside the Club. And I am very definitely not available for an interview. I’ve read some of your work, Miss Divine. You show promise. I’m sure you’ll make a name for yourself once you get a job at a real newspaper.”

Bettie smiled widely, almost overwhelmed that Walker had heard of her and was familiar with her work. I could have told her; Walker knows everyone.

“Looks like the vultures are gathering over the Nightside,” I said. “Would I be right in thinking that people are being encouraged to choose sides? Whether they want to or not?”

“Which side would you be on, Taylor, if push came to shove?” said Walker.

“My side,” I said.

Walker nodded slightly. And perhaps it was only my imagination that he looked a little disappointed in me.

“You’ve heard about the Afterlife Recording?” I said. “Of course you have. It’s gone missing, and I’ve been hired to find it.”

“Then find it quickly,” said Walker. “Before forces from Above or Below decide to get involved. The last time that happened was a disaster for all of us.”

“I wish everyone would stop looking at me like the angel war was all my fault!”

“It was,” said Walker.

“Can I quote you?” said Bettie.

“No,” said Walker. “What do you want from me, Taylor?”

“I want to know where the Collector is hiding out these days,” I said. “If anyone knows anything about the Afterlife Recording, it will be him. That’s if he hasn’t already got his fat sweaty hands on it, of course.”

“Of course,” said Walker. “Mark never could resist the challenge of the chase…Very well. The Collector is currently hiding his collection inside another collection. To be exact, inside the Museum of Unnatural History.”

“An exclusive!” said Bettie, beaming happily.

“Not for long,” said Walker. “He’ll move again once he’s been found. Poor Mark.”

“You know the Collector personally?” said Bettie. “Is that how you know where he’s been hiding?”

“I know where everyone is,” said Walker. “That’s my job.”

“Do you know where the offices of the Unnatural Inquirer are located?”

“Yes.”

“Ah,” said Bettie Divine. “Then I’d better contact the Sub-Editor and tell him to tone down tomorrow’s editorial.”

“I would,” said Walker. He looked back at me. “I can’t speak for what kind of reception you can expect from Mark. The three of us might have worked together to end the Lilith War, but you can’t rely on that to mean anything. His collection is all that really matters to him these days. He’s come a long way from the man I and your father once knew. Don’t turn your back on him.”

I considered the point. “Can I say you sent me?”

Walker shrugged. “If you think it’ll do any good. Find the Recording, John. And then, if you’ve got any sense, destroy it.”

“The Unnatural Inquirer owns exclusive rights to the Afterlife Recording!” Bettie said immediately.

“There is that,” said Walker. “Certainly I couldn’t think of a better way to discredit it.”

Bettie started to say something else, but I took her firmly by the elbow, levered her up out of her chair, nodded quickly to Walker and moved her off towards the door. She made a show of fighting me, but I could tell she was glad of a way to leave Walker without losing face.

“The way you and he talked,” she said, as we walked across the lobby. “You two are close, aren’t you? I never knew that. I don’t think anyone does…There’s a lot going on there that you’re not telling me.”

“Of course,” I said. “I’m protecting you.”

“From what?”

“From never being able to sleep again.”

We left the Londinium Club, and strolled unhurriedly through the sleazy streets of the Nightside. Amber light from the street-lamps was easily shouldered aside by the fierce electric colours of the flashing neon signs, and the grubby pavements were crowded with preoccupied, anxious figures, all intent on their own private dreams and damnations. Sweet sounds and madder music blasted out of the open doors of clubs where the fun never stopped, and you could dance till you dropped. Brazen windows showed off all the latest temptations, barkers boasted of the attractions to be found inside for the discerning patron, and sin went walking openly down the street in the very latest fuck-me shoes.

The traffic roared past, never slowing, never stopping, because it wasn’t there for us.

Visiting the Londinium Club’s dining-room had made me peckish, so I stopped at a concession stand and treated Bettie and me to something wriggling on a stick. The meat was sharp and spicy, and just a bit crunchy.

“Would I regret it if I was to ask exactly what this is that I’m eating?” said Bettie, as we continued down the street.

“Almost certainly,” I said cheerfully.

“Then I won’t ask. Am I supposed to eat the head, too?”

“If you want.”

“But it’s looking at me!”

“Then eat it from the other end.”

“You really know how to show a girl a good time, Taylor.”

We walked a while in silence, chewing thoughtfully.

“I’ve never been to the Museum of Unnatural History,” Bettie said finally. “I always meant to go and take a look at what they’ve got there. I understand they have some really interesting exhibits. But it’s not really me. I don’t do the educational thing.”

“They’ve got a Tyrannosaurus rex,” I said.

Bettie threw away her stick and looked at me. “What, the complete skeleton?”

“No, in a cage.”

Her eyes widened. “Wow; a real T. rex! I wonder what they feed it…”

“People who litter, probably.”

The Museum of Unnatural History is very modern-looking. The French may have a glass pyramid outside the Louvre, but we have a glass tesseract. An expanded cube that exists in four spatial dimensions. A bit hard on the eyes, but a small price to pay for style. The tesseract isn’t merely the entrance to the Museum, it contains the whole thing inside its own very private and secure pocket dimension. The Museum needs a whole dimension to itself, to contain all the wonders and marvels it has accumulated down the years; from the Past, the Present, and any number of Future time-lines.

I walked steadily forward into the glass tesseract, Bettie clinging firmly to my arm again, and almost immediately we were standing in the Museum’s entrance lobby. I say almost immediately; there was a brief sensation of falling, of alien voices howling all around, and a huge eye turning slowly to look in our direction…but you tend to take things like that in your stride in the Nightside. The lobby itself was quaintly and pleasantly old-fashioned. All polished oak and brass and Victorian fittings, marble floors with built-in mosaics, and any number of wire stands packed with books and pamphlets and learned volumes on sale, inspired by the many famous (or currently fashionable) exhibits. Once again the ticket barrier opened itself for me, and Bettie looked at me, impressed.

“This is even better than having an expense account. Did you do something important for the Museum, too?”

“No,” I said. “I think they’re just scared of me.”

The uniformed staff were all Neanderthals—big and muscular, with hairy hands, low brows, and chinless jaws filled with large blocky teeth. The deep-set eyes were kind, but distant. Neanderthals performed all the menial work in the Museum, in return for not being exhibits. They were also in charge of basic security, and rumour had it they were allowed to eat anyone they caught. I asked one to take us to the Director of the Museum, and he hooted softly before beckoning us to follow him. He had a piercing in one ear, and a badge on his lapel saying UNIONISE NOW!