"Only in the sense that I'm determined to be nothing like you," I said. "I know a bad example when I see one."
" 'How sharper than a serpent's tooth,' " murmured Walker. "Come with me, John. Come walk with me through the Nightside and see it as I see it. My portable Timeslip can take us anywhere in a moment. We can take in the whole Nightside in a single night. Watch me work. See what I have to do, to maintain the peace and keep the lid on things. There's a lot to my job that no-one ever knows but I."
"I don't want your job. I have a job, and I'm bloody good at it."
Walker considered me thoughtfully. "You always say you want to help people. How better than by mediating between them and the Authorities? By using their power to protect the little people from those who would prey on them? How many more people could you help, from a position of power?"
"Get thee behind me, Satan," I said, and he actually chuckled.
I thought about it. Despite all my best instincts, a lot of what he said made sense in a seductive kind of way. The things I could do, with the Authorities behind me… A lot of the people I couldn't touch, because of their power and connections, would suddenly become… touchable. I've always believed that one man, in the right place, can make a difference…
"If," I said, "just for the sake of argument… If I was to take over your position, I wouldn't be the Authorities' lap-dog. I'd go my own way, follow my own conscience…"
"That's why I chose you," said Walker.
"Is there really nothing I can do to help you?" I said. "This is the Nightside. There must be something…"
"If there was something to be done, I'd be doing it," Walker said calmly. "Would you really try to help me, John? After all the times I've tried to have you arrested or killed?"
"Of course," I said. "You're my father's oldest friend. And… for good or bad, you've always been a part of my life. Always there… always looking out for me, one way or another. There were so many things I wanted to say to my father, before he died. You always think there'll be time enough… until there isn't. Now here I am, wondering what I should say to you. My oldest enemy, my oldest friend. Part of me thinks I should have killed you years ago: for all the people you've trampled underfoot, for all the lives you've destroyed, all in the name of maintaining your precious status quo."
"You're not a killer," said Walker.
"I have killed. When I had to. But I try not to. It would make me too much like you."
"So you're admitting we have some things in common?"
I showed him my teeth in a smile. "Don't say that like it's a good thing."
"I'm not ashamed of anything I've done," said Walker.
"But are you proud of anything?"
"I'm proud of you. One of my better long-term projects."
"Do you have any idea how creepy that sounds?"
"I have kept the peace in the Nightside for thirty years and more," said Walker. "I've stopped the Nightside from tearing itself apart, kept it from spilling over its boundaries into the vulnerable everyday world, and even managed a little justice along the way. That's the best you can hope for, in my position."
"When I look back through my life," I said, "I can see times when you could have killed me, and didn't, when anyone else in your position would have. You didn't because I'm the son of your oldest friend, the man you betrayed and hounded to his death. You can't kill me, Walker. I'm your conscience."
"You keep on thinking that," said Walker. "If it makes you feel more secure."
"What if I told you to take your job and shove it?" I said. "Would you have me killed then?"
"I am many things," said Walker. "But not petty. I'd simply move on to my next choice."
I had to raise an eyebrow at that. "You have someone else in mind?"
"Of course."
I waited, but he had nothing more to say. I nodded, slowly. "I'll have to think about this."
"There isn't much time," said Walker. "I don't have much time. But you think about it, John. I'll see you again."
And he vanished from his chair, gone, just like that. Didn't even use his portable Timeslip. Trust Walker always to have another trick up his sleeve.
I did genuinely consider his offer. Though there had to be a lot more to it than he was saying. Walker wasn't the kind to go gently into that long night. He had to be planning something. But what if he wasn't? What if he was just a man, dying too soon, desperate to put some things in order while there was still time? Experience suggested very strongly that he was setting me up for something, but what if the offer really was genuine? Who else would I want for the job if I was in Walker's position? Someone's got to do it… and it was very tempting.
I always thought Walker would kill me someday, or I'd kill him. But things never turn out the way you expect, in the Nightside.
I thought of all the things I could finally put right, with the Authorities' power to back me up. All the bad guys I could take down and put out of business… Yes. It was tempting. But could that be the first step down the road of power corrupting? The road that led to the devastated future Nightside I'd seen in the Timeslip? The world where I was responsible for the death of all Humanity… I thought I'd avoided that future; but Time does so love to play its little tricks.
The smell hit me first. That familiar, bad smell, of someone who lay down with garbage and dead things and didn't give a damn. I looked up resignedly and sure enough, there was Razor Eddie sitting opposite me. The Punk God of the Straight Razor, his very own smelly and disturbing self. A painfully thin presence wrapped in an oversized grey coat held together with accumulated filth and grease, Eddie looked terrible; but then, he always did. The same gaunt face, close-cropped hair and fever-bright eyes. He was nursing a bottle of designer water, while flies buzzed dolefully around him. The ones that got too close fell out of the air dead. When he spoke, his voice was low and dry and ghostly.
"There's something in the air, John."
"I had noticed," I said. "You should hang some of those little pine trees around your neck. So, how are you doing, Eddie? Still sleeping with the homeless and begging for spare change?"
"I don't have to beg," he said solemnly. "As soon as people see who I am, they throw money at me and run."
Razor Eddie is the only god I know who sleeps in doorways and eats food out of Dumpsters as a form of penance. He has a lot to do penance for.
"What do you want, Eddie?" I said, tiredly. "Seems like everybody wants something from me today."
"You're getting too chummy with Walker," said Razor Eddie. "If you're not one of us, you're one of them."
"I'm not with anybody," I said. "Except Suzie. I go my own way. You know that."
"You've been close to the new Authorities ever since they appeared."
"Is that so bad? They're saying all the right things."
"The only way to stay uncorrupted by power is to turn your back on it. You should know that. Don't let Walker convince you of the rightness of his path. Don't be fooled into thinking you could take his power and not be touched by it. Not be changed by it. The Nightside does so love to break a hero. You can't save the Nightside, John. You can't redeem the Nightside. It doesn't need saving or redeeming. It serves a purpose, just as it is. Or I'd have torn it all down long ago."
"Hasn't stopped you killing a whole bunch of people," I said carefully. "Often in inventively ghastly ways."
"There are always those who go too far. Bad people, who need killing. I'll always be there, for them. But look what that kind of life has done to me. Honour can be a harsh mistress. You have a chance for a real life, with Suzie. How do you think she'll feel when she hears about you sitting down with Walker?"
"Tell me, Eddie," I said. "Why have you never gone after Walker? You've always hated him and everything he stands for. Is it the Voice?"
He smiled slightly, his pale lips hardly moving. "I can move faster than he can speak. No. I never touched him because… someone has to be in charge, and better the devil you know. Walker may be a bastard, but he's an even-handed bastard. He doesn't take sides, so we can all hate him evenly."