“No,” said Razor Eddie. “That’s not true.”
We all glanced at him, a little startled. He was so quiet and still it was easy to forget he was there.
“You have to be stopped,” said Tommy, a little more loudly than was necessary. “You’re cold and ruthless and…”
“You got back from the Past months ago,” I said, talking right over him. “Why didn’t you do something before this? Why wait till now?”
“I was keeping my head down, out of sight, while I thought things through,” said Tommy. He was trying hard not to sound defensive. “I put a lot of thought into how best to stop you. It took me a while to admit I couldn’t hope to do it alone. So I came up with this plan, and went to Walker with it, and he put me together with Sandra. Not at all a nice plan, I agree, but you brought it on yourself. Fight fire with fire, and all that. You might say… this was my last test for you, John. One last chance to see what you’re really made of, to see if you care for anyone other than yourself. Prove me wrong about you. Prove to me and to Walker that you’re not the evil we think you are by turning yourself in. And I give you my word that Cathy will be released, entirely unharmed.”
“I can’t,” I said, trying hard to make him hear the need and urgency and honesty in my voice. “My mother Lilith is back, and she’s worse than I’ll ever be. I’m the only one who can stop her from destroying the Nightside.”
“Such arrogance,” said Sandra. “We’ll stop her, after we’ve dealt with you.”
“I could blow your head right off your shoulders,” Suzie Shooter said casually.
“You could try,” said Sandra Chance. The two women smiled at each other easily. Sandra leaned forward to put down her champagne glass, and Suzie moved her shotgun slightly to keep her covered. “I am a necromancer,” said Sandra. “And this is my place of power. With this much death to draw on, even the Punk God of the Straight Razor can’t hope to stand against me. Your presence here was not expected or required, little god. This is nothing to do with you.”
“Yes it is,” said Eddie. “I know what you found in the future, John. I know who you found. I’ve always known.”
I looked at him sharply. I saw him die, in the Timeslip future. I helped him to die. But I never told anyone.
He shrugged easily. “I’m a god, remember?”
“This doesn’t have to end in violence,” Tommy said urgently, sensing the undercurrents. “You know I’m an honourable man, John.”
“You might be,” I said. “But Sandra works for Walker. And Walker… has his own very personal take on honour, when it comes to the Nightside. He’d sacrifice any number of innocents to preserve the Nightside for the Authorities.”
“He was supposed to be here,” said Tommy, frowning slightly. “To reassure you of his good intentions. But unfortunately he was called away. It seems something really unpleasant is happening on the Street of the Gods.”
We all looked at Razor Eddie, who met our gaze a little reproachfully. “Nothing to do with me,” he said.
“Hell with this,” said Sandra Chance, rising to her feet in one smooth feline movement. “It’s time to take care of business.”
“No!” said Tommy, scrambling untidily to his feet. “He has to be given a chance to surrender! You agreed!”
“I lied,” said Sandra. “His existence offends me. He killed the Lamentation.”
“Ah yes,” I said. “Your… what was the term, exactly, I wonder? You never did have much taste in lovers, Sandra. The Lamentation was just a nasty little Power with delusions of godhood, and the world smells better now that it’s gone.”
“It was the Saint of Suffering, and it served a purpose!” Sandra said loudly. “It weeded out the weak and punished the foolish, and I was proud to serve it!”
“Exactly what was your relationship with the Lamentation?” said Tommy Oblivion. His voice was thoughtful and not at all threatening, as his gift manifested subtly on the still air. Tommy could be very persuasive when he chose to be. I don’t know whether Sandra could feel what was happening, but she answered anyway, her cold green eyes locked on mine.
“I used to investigate insurance fraud,” she said. “And a cluster of unexplained suicides brought me to the Church of the Lamentation. We talked, and we… connected. I don’t think it had ever met anyone like me, with my fetish for death.”
“Kindred spirits, who found each other in Hell,” I said softly. “What did you do for the Lamentation, Sandra? What deal did you make with your devil?”
“Your devil, my god,” said Sandra Chance. “I became its Judas Goat, leading the suffering to their Saint, and it taught me the ways of the necromancer. It gave me what I’d always wanted. To lie down with death and rise up wreathed in power.”
“Of course,” said Tommy, “such knowledge usually drives people insane. But you were functionally crazy to begin with.”
“Takes one to know one,” said Sandra. “Now shut up, Tommy, or I’ll do something amusing to you. You’re only here on sufferance.”
“It was my plan!”
“No,” said Sandra. “This was always Walker’s plan.”
“And you never gave a damn, for all the poor bastards you delivered to your nasty lover?” I said. “To die in despair, then linger in horror, bound even after death to the service of the Lamentation?”
“They were weak,” said Sandra. “They gave up. I never broke under the strain, never gave up. I save my help for those who deserve it.”
“Of course you didn’t care,” said Suzie Shooter. “You’re even more heartless than I am. I’m going to enjoy killing you.”
“Enough talk,” said Sandra. “It’s time to dance the dance of life and death, little people. I shall raise all those who lie here because of you—John Taylor, Shotgun Suzie, Razor Eddie. All your victims gathered together in one place, with hate and vengeance burning in their cold, cold hearts. And they will drag you down into the cold wet earth and hold you there in their bony arms until finally… you stop screaming. Don’t say I never did anything for you.”
She raised her arms high in the stance of summoning, and chanted ancient Words of Power. Energies crackled fiercely around her extended fingers… and nothing happened. The energies dissipated harmlessly on the freezing air, unable to come together. Sandra stood there awkwardly for a long moment, then slowly lowered her arms and looked about her, confused.
“The Necropolis graveyard is protected by seriously heavy-duty magics,” said Eddie, in his calm, ghostly voice. “I thought everyone knew that.”
“But the magics were supposed to have been suppressed!” said Sandra. “Walker promised me!”
“That wasn’t the deal!” said Tommy. “I wasn’t told about any of this!”
“You didn’t need to know.”
There was a pleasant chiming sound, a brief shimmering on the air, and there was Walker, standing before us in his neat city suit and old-school tie. He smiled vaguely about him. “This… is a recording. I’m afraid I can’t be here with you, on the grounds it might prove injurious to my health. By now you should have realised that the magics of this place have not been shut down, as promised, Sandra Chance. My apologies for the deception; but it was necessary. You see, this isn’t just a trap for John Taylor; it’s a trap for all of you. Taylor, Shooter, Oblivion, and Chance. I’m afraid you’ve all become far more trouble than you’re worth. And I need to be free to concentrate on the Really Bad Thing that all my best precogs insist is coming. So the decision has been made to dispense with all of you. I have at least extracted a promise from the Authorities that after you’ve all killed each other, or the cemetery has killed you, your bodies will be buried here, free of charge. It’s the least I could do. Good-bye, John. I am sorry it had to come to this. I protected you for as long as I could… but I’ve always known my duty.”
The image of Walker raised his bowler hat in our general direction, then snapped off. There was a long moment of silence.
“We are so screwed,” said Suzie.