The Witches of Chiswick (38 page)

A terrific figure loomed before this exit. It glared at Tim and fixed him with its dead black eyes. “Return to your seat,” it said, in a deeply-timbred, rich Germanic accent.

Will took very careful aim.

Way down in the circus ring a red laser dot appeared upon the forehead of Count Otto Black. Will squinted through the telescopic sight and gently squeezed upon the trigger.

And then the gun was struck from his hand.

And Will struck from his feet.

“I know what you must be wondering,” said Count Otto Black. “You must be wondering what this is all about. Perhaps you are thinking, ‘Aha Count Otto has some very special marvel in store for us, as a conclusion to his wondrous show. He promised us something extra special, and indeed this must be it’. And indeed, to this degree, you are entirely correct, because I promise you something particularly special. I promise you the end of civilisation as you know it.”

“Count Otto,” called Her Majesty (etc.). “I trust that this special entertainment and end of civilisation as we know it will not take too long. I have to return to Buckingham Palace within a very few minutes to watch the fireworks.”

Count Otto Black shook his head. “That is neither here, nor there,” he said. “What you are about to witness, you will have no recollection of tomorrow. You will awaken with memories that you enjoyed the fireworks, and memories too of your entire life, but these will not be true memories, because the past as you remember it and the present as you understand it, will have been erased.”

Queen Victoria made a puzzled face.

“An explanation is necessary, I feel.” Count Otto Black clapped his slender hands together. “Lords and ladies, one and all, allow me to introduce you to The Chiswick Townswomen’s Guild.”

Into the ring marched thirteen pinch-faced women.

They were as alike as those peas that dwell in the pod of metaphor. They wore lavish costumes of black damask embroidered with silk brocade. Their bodies were impossibly slender. The looks upon their tiny pinched-faces were
intent
.

They formed a circle about the Count and joined their hands together. And then they began to sway backwards and forwards, chanting softly and scuffing their heels in the sawdust.

“All ends here,” cried Count Otto Black. “The future changes, and also the past. Five sacrifices have been made below and now one will be made above.”

The audience did rumblings and mumblings. Most were now very keen indeed to be up and away.

“Be still
now
!” Count Otto raised his hands towards the dome where the stars twinkled on high. “A demonstration of power is required, I do believe. And why not upon those who have come here to do my master harm. In the twelfth and thirteenth seats of the very first row, I do believe.”

“Eh?” said the cabbie, checking his tickets. “That’s us, isn’t it, bruv?”

But sadly he said no more at all, as a bolt of fire shot down from above and reduced both him and his plastered brother to ashes, which really wasn’t fair.

The crowd went “Oooooooh!” and shrank very low in their seats.

Will opened his eyes and said, “Who hit me?” A terrific figure hauled him to his feet.

“Assassin alert,” said this terrific figure, holding Will in the grip that is known as “vice-like”.

“Oh,” went Count Otto and he put his finger to his ear, wherein rested a tiny radio receiver that held a Babbage patent. “I seem to have made an error. Might we have a spotlight shine upon the back row, to the left of the exit?”

A spotlight shone in that very direction.

It lit upon Will Starling. And also upon Tim, both held in the clutches of twin terrific figures.

“Mr Starling,” called Count Otto. “It is you lurking behind that beard, isn’t it? I knew you’d adopt a disguise. Please come down and join me. And your companion too.” He beckoned to the terrific figures. “Haul them down to me
now
.”

Will’s captor had Will’s arms pinned to his sides. Will struggled, but to no avail. The automaton hauled him down the aisle towards the ring. The second automaton did likewise with Tim.

“I suppose,” said Count Otto, as Will’s terrific captor deftly relieved Will of his weaponry and flung him down to the sawdust, “that it would be a pity if you missed this, as it does concern you so very personally.”

Will glared up at Count Otto Black. “You’ll get yours,” he said.

“Damn right,” agreed Tim, who now lay beside Will in the sawdust.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Count Otto smiled. “Not, at least, in the way that you mean. Bring on the sacrificial victim.”

And from beneath the orchestra stand, curtains drew back and two more automata appeared, hauling between them—

“My other self,” whispered Will.

But it was
not
Will’s other self.

“Colonel William Starling,” said Count Otto. “Of the Queen’s Own Aerial Cavalry. Your many-times great-grandfather, I believe.”

Will muttered swearings beneath his breath. The automaton pushed his foot down hard on Will’s back.

“Get your damned hands off me,” demanded Colonel William. “Beaten up and thrown into a police cell, then kidnapped from the police cell and dragged up here. Outrageous behaviour. I demand an explanation, sir.”

“Such a task,” said Count Otto ignoring Colonel William’s complaints, “to erase our nemesis. We have tried to kill you both in this time and in the future. Hugo Rune, your most illustrious and annoying ancestor, he was extinguished, but
still
you live. But no more. When the Colonel dies, wifeless and childless, you will definitely cease to exist.”

Will spat sawdust and curled his lip, but that was all he could do.

“My apologies to my audience,” said the Count. “None of this will mean anything to you. None of you will have the foggiest idea what is going on here.”

The audience did further mumblings and grumblings: the Count, it seemed, was correct on this account.

“You are not entirely correct.” The voice came from the rear of the audience. A spotlight swung in the direction of the voice’s location. So to speak, and lit upon … Will looked up as best he could.

“Hugo Rune,” said he.

“It is I,” said Hugo Rune.

“Well, well, well,” said Count Otto Black, plucking at his beard. “The guru’s guru himself. And there was I, most certain you were dead.”

“Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated,”
[34]
said Mr Hugo Rune.

“Good line,” said Oscar Wilde, plumping up his cushion. “I’ll use that.”

“Isn’t this exciting?” said the lady in the straw hat. “I’ve no idea what’s going on, but it’s very exciting none the less.”

“It’s not
that
exciting,” said her friend called Doris. “It’s mostly just talking, apart from the bolts of fire. Those were quite exciting.”

“And the dancing bears,” said Her Majesty (.). “I really liked those dancing bears.”

“Come on then, Rune,” called Count Otto. “Join us here in the ring. Witness what is to come. Be here at the beginning of the end.”

Hugo Rune strode down an aisle towards the ring. Tonight he wore his magician’s robe; a seamless floor-length white cotton garment, embroidered with the ever-popular enigmatic symbols. His ring of power was upon his nose-picking finger, a jaunty fez perched at a rakish angle on his great bald head. He presented a most striking appearance, especially for a dead man. Hugo Rune stepped down to the circus ring.

Will gazed up at him. The thoughts within Will’s head were somewhat confused.

“Time ticks away,” said Hugo Rune, stepping into the circus ring. “You will shortly run right out of it.”

Count Otto smiled a wicked smile. His yellow crooked teeth all showed themselves. “There is no more time,” said he. “As you know it. But pray tell me this, before the new dawn dawns. How is it that you remain alive?”

“A great magician never divulges his secrets,” said Hugo Rune. “It might lessen his charisma.”

“A cop-out if ever I heard one.” Count Otto spat into the sawdust.

“Then you might put it down to my immortality, coupled with the fact that a dead man has no creditors. It generally pays to fake one’s death at least once every century. And upon this occasion it was also necessary in order that young Will here would do the right thing. Which I am proud to see that he has. And, by the by, Count Otto, would it be permissible to allow Mr Starling to his feet? He looks most uncomfortable down there.”

“It is of no consequence.” Count Otto fluttered his twig-like digits. The terrific treader that stood upon Will withdrew its foot and Will climbed to his feet.

“Thank you,” said Will.

“And what about me?” asked Tim.

“Yes, you too.” The Count did further finger flutters. Tim climbed to
his
feet.

“Mr Rune,” said Tim, putting out his hand for a shake. “I’m so very pleased to meet you. I’m Tim, your real magical heir.”

“Splendid.” Rune raised a hairless eyebrow. “Then perhaps you’d care to join me later for a cocktail at the Pussycat Club? And Will too.”

“Thanks,” said Will, and shook his head in wonder.

“Enough of this chitchat!” cried Count Otto Black, as the pinch-faced ladies continued to chant all around him.

“Yes,” agreed Rune. “Enough. Desist from this abominable scheme, Black, or I will be forced to take measures against you.”

“Oh yes?” Count Otto laughed. And then he glanced at his wristwatch. It was a Babbage digital. “One minute left before midnight,” said he. “And all but one of the players in our little drama present and correct. The final countdown begins.”

“Will someone please tell
me
what’s going on here?” Colonel William Starling struggled to free himself from his terrific tormentor. “Who is this fellow who looks just like me, but for his foolish beard and less-splendid sideburns?”

“Strike the idiot down,” said Count Otto.

And Colonel William was duly struck down.

“And guards,” the Count continued. “Keep these three,” and he pointed to Tim, Will and Rune, “firmly under control.”

Many guns swung in the threesome’s direction.

“Thus and so,” said Count Otto. “And now I must defer to my master. To he who will perform the sacrifice and seal the future.” Count Otto drew an athame from his belt, put it to his lips and kissed it. “He comes,” cried he. “My master comes.”

And lightning flashed above the dome and a terrible chill ran through the air. “My master,” cried Count Otto Black once more. “Prostrate yourselves.”

The pinch-faced women ceased their chant and flung themselves to the sawdust. Count Otto Black went down on one knee. Tim, Will and Rune stood defiant, defiant, but not altogether without any fear.

“His master,” whispered Tim. “Does he mean the devil?”

A shiver ran across the circus ring, rippling the sawdust.

“Stand firm!” ordered Rune. “Stand behind me if you must.” Tim and Will hastened to stand behind Rune.

A fanfare went up from the orchestra, a limelight spot illuminated the curtained entrance beneath.

“All praise to the Master,” cried Count Otto Black. “The Prince of Darkness. The Lord of the Flies. He comes, oh yes indeed.”

And the curtain drew back and light flooded through, a dazzling light, a blinding light.

A figure walked slowly from this light, a striking figure, clad all in black but for his blondy hair.

“Evening all,” said Will’s other self. “I’ll bet you weren’t expecting me.”

“Now I know this chap,” the lady in the straw hat whispered to Doris. “He’s the twin brother of the other one.”

“The one who just got knocked unconscious?”

“No, not that one; the one with the beard, hiding behind the big fat bloke.”

“Not so much of the fat,” cried Hugo Rune, whose hearing was acute. “I am generously proportioned.”

“And you have lovely eyes,” said the lady. “Perhaps we might go out for a drink later on? The Pussycat Club, did I hear you say?”

“Cease all this,” bawled Will’s other self. “Enough of this stuff and nonsense.”

Will peeped from beyond Hugo Rune’s generously proportioned rear quarters, and gawped at his other self.

“You?” was all he could manage to say.

“Me,” said the other Will. “I am now in control of all this, and you should be upon your knees.”

“Never,” said Will, but was struck from his feet by a nearby terrific figure.

“That’s more like it.” The other Will strode forward, stepped into the circle of prostrate pinch-faced women and stood above Count Otto Black.

“Why?” asked Will. “Why, and how?”

“
Why
?” Will’s other self cast Will a withering glance. It withered the rose Will wore in his buttonhole, not that the rose had been mentioned before. “You ask me why, after all I’ve been through? Growing up in a future as the Promised One. Doomed from my very birth to die back here. And then, when I arrive here, captured by these.” The other Will booted the nearest pinch-face, who moaned and pressed her face closer to the sawdust. “Tortured and tormented for a year, made to knit macrame plant pot holders. And fed upon rats, don’t forget that.”

“Nasty,” said the lady in the straw hat.

“They’re not so bad,” said the Elephant Man, “if you have them pan-fried with plenty of garlic”

“Silence!” Will’s other self raised his hand, and a heavy silence fell. He cast another withering glance that became a withering stare. “I have suffered as no man should suffer, but I will suffer no more. I have travelled into the past and into the future. Not the future you came from, nor the one I came from, but another future entirely. The future that
I
will create for myself tonight.”

“How?” Will managed to ask. “How did you travel through time?”

“I think
I
know,” said Barry. “I have a very bad feeling about this.”

“In here,” the other Will tapped at his forehead, “I have communion and conversation with my Holy Guardian. Tonight we will put the world to right. The world that
this man
,” and he pointed at Rune, “that
this man
has put to wrong.”

“Me?” quoth Rune. “I mean,
I
? I mean,
one
?”

“You,” said the other Will. “You are responsible for all of this, the Victorian super technology that should never have existed. You changed the course of history by introducing Mr Babbage to the Queen at the Great Exhibition.”

“It seemed like the right thing to do,” said Rune. “And it was.”

“So that it should benefit you. You, with your
Book of Rune
that predicted future events, that would find you worshipped in the future I grew up in, as some kind of messiah.”

“That was hardly my intention.” Rune dusted down his raiment. “But praise where praise is due, I suppose.”

“And yet you still live,” the other Will made fists, “even though
I
hacked you to pieces.”

“You?” managed Will.

“Me,” said the other Will. “And those Whitechapel whores. I wasn’t lying when the police found me covered in blood. I was a trifle overexcited. But then, being Jack the Ripper was a rather exciting experience.”

“I knew it was him,” said Sherlock Holmes to Dr Watson.

“No shit, Sherlock,” the doctor replied. “You knew it was him?”

“Everybody knows it was him,” said the lady in the straw hat. “I was at his trial and it was in all the papers. There’s a big reward for his capture, but I don’t fancy making a citizen’s arrest. Has anyone seen that big bargee?”

“Why?” Will managed once more.

“You really
are
monosyllabic,” said his other self. “And really stupid, too. But then, if it hadn’t been for you getting me drunk for the first time in my life I would never have acquired the knowledge and conversation of my Holy Guardian.”

“It’s Larry, chief,” said Barry. “My wayward brother. This is all his fault.”

“Why?” asked Will once more. “Why did you murder those women?”

“All part of this.” The other Will threw wide his arms. “This isn’t just any old anti-gravitational flying circus powered through the wireless transmission of electrical energy, you know. This is a very special construction. And it wasn’t so much built, as grown, in my
new improved
future, for this very special moment. All of this.” He twirled about upon his heels, and did a bit of a moonwalk. “Even now it evolves.” He stamped his feet. “No noise,” said he. “No sound. Nothing more enters, nothing leaves. A closed system, Will. The past will change and so will the future, but this little system will not. It is immune. Advanced technology, founded upon magical principles, created by myself, with the aid of my Holy Guardian helper, to ensure that mankind gets the future it really deserves. Which is to say, the future
I
deserve.”

“You deserve a smack,” said Will.

“But not from you. Allow me to explain just what is going to happen, what this ‘Doomsday Programme’ is really all about. It has nothing to do with altering the past. That is something which I will deal with personally. The programme will, how shall I put this, spread a little love. In fact it will spread a whole lot of love. Which is why my Holy Guardian is so enthusiastic. It will spread love all around the world.”

“I suspect that it will do a great deal more than that,” seethed Will.

“Well, just a tad.” The other Will placed a hand upon his heart and made an angelic upturned face. “It will spread the world’s love towards me. I have been so unloved, you see. But no more. From the moment that the spell is activated, anyone who meets me will love me. Isn’t that wonderful? And so fair, considering all that I’ve been through. I will be the object of love for everyone. And everyone will want to please me. I shall become the most popular and all-loved leader of all time. The most popular and loved world leader. The first ever world leader. King of the world, ma.”

“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear,” said Barry. “Larry’s fouled it up big time, this time.”

“You’re insane,” Will seethed a little more. “And if all you want is love, why did you have to murder those women?”

The other Will smiled. “It’s the question that everybody wants to know the answer to, isn’t it? Why did Jack the Ripper do what he did? Here, come and let me whisper.”

Will took faltering forward steps. He leaned towards his other self, but not too closely. He hadn’t forgotten about what happened to David Warner in
Time Cop
. How two yous must never, upon any account, come into contact, for fear of terrible cosmic consequences.

The other Will whispered words into Will’s ear.

“And that’s it?” said Will.

The other Will nodded.

“But it’s so obvious. Hideous and fiendish, but obvious.”

The other Will shrugged. “But no one ever figures it out.”

“What did he say?” Barry asked. “I didn’t catch it.”

“Tell you later,” said Will.

“Regretfully not,” said Will’s other self. “Because there will be no later for you. When Colonel William Starling dies, you will cease to exist.”

“You too,” said Will.

“No, not me. I have worked it all out. Only you will cease to exist. One hundred years from now SF enthusiasts will still be debating over exactly how I worked it out. But work it out, I did. And—” He perused his wristwatch. It wasn’t a Babbage, it was a Casio. “Less than a minute to go; time to make the sacrifice and employ the Millennial Love Bug.”

“It’s a Centennial Love Bug,” said Tim.

“What?” the other Will glared at Tim.

“Nothing,” said Tim. “It’s just that I haven’t had anything to say for a while. Where is your computer, by the way?”

“My computer?” The other Will laughed, loudly, wildly, madly, in the manner that super-criminals so often do. “I have control here,” he said. “Control of these,” and he booted another pinch-faced woman. “Because they fear me. They fear my supernatural powers, that I can be here.” And the other Will was here. “Or there.” And he was suddenly over there.

“Larry showing off,” said Barry. “And he’s cheating all over the place. The Big Figure is going to be very upset about this. I wouldn’t even be surprised if He chose to intervene.”

“A
deus ex machina
ending,” said Will. “That will do for me.”

“What did you say?” The other Will was now
here
again.

“Nothing,” said Will. “Pray continue with your most interesting narrative.”

“Nice line,” whispered Holmes to Watson. “Make a note of it.”

“I know you’ve had spies looking for the computer system,” said the other Will. “But they won’t have found it, nor the programme that I formulated in my
new, improved
future. The programme is here,” and he plucked a tiny disc from his pocket.

“And the computer?” Tim asked. “I did ask about the computer.”

“Right here.” Will’s other self beckoned Count Otto to his feet, tore off the showman’s great fur hat, and then tore off the top of his head.

The crowd did gaspings.

“I still haven’t the faintest idea what’s going on,” said the lady in the straw hat. “But that was unexpected.”

“The real Count Otto had to go,” said the other Will. “There can be only one King of the witches. So I deposed him.”

“You mean, you murdered him.” Will ground his teeth.

“Not all of him.” The other Will grinned. “I removed his brain and replaced it with a computerised system. The rest of him is all still him, although,” the other Will sniffed at Count Otto, “he’s beginning to hum a bit.”

“You fiend.” Will did further tooth-grindings.

“I know.” Will’s other self grinned some more.

Lights flickered from within the open cavity of Count Otto’s head, lines of computer language moved across his eyeballs.

“I’ve been back and forwards in time,” said Will’s other self, “adjusting this, changing that, killing those, failing to kill
him
.” Once more he pointed at Hugo Rune. “And I have chosen my allegiance. I have taken the King of the Underworld’s shilling, signed up to the dark side of the Force. The deal is done, the pact is made, I will rule the world in
my
new future. Much work has gone into this. But now all is complete.” And he slotted the computer disc into Count Otto’s open cranium, snapped back the top of his head and gave it a little pat. “Millennium Love Bug, Centennial Love Bug, Love me Love me Love me Programme engaged,” said he. “Engaged,” and he tweaked Count Otto’s nose. “Activated. And counting down.”

The other Will did further grinnings. “And while it’s counting down, there is one other important matter that I need to take care of.”

And with that said, he vanished.