Simon Green - The Good,the Bad and the Uncanny

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."

"But, could you take him?" I said.

Razor Eddie thought about it. "Maybe. Walker has his secrets; but then, don't we all?"

I decided to change the subject. "So what have you been up to lately, Eddie? Killed anyone interesting?"

"No. I've been… travelling." Razor Eddie stirred uneasily in his seat. "Ever since Merlin Satanspawn finally passed on, I've felt… restless. Disturbed. As though waiting for the storm to break. I've being spending time down in the subterranean ways, listening and learning. There are rumours in dark places, whispers in the shadows… People, and others, have talked to me when they wouldn't talk to anyone else. And definitely not to Walker."

"You trust them to tell you the truth?" I said.

"Of course," said Razor Eddie. "I'm a god."

"Of course," I said.

"I first heard the name on the Street of the Gods, passed from hand to hand and mouth to mouth like an isotope too hot to handle. I heard it again in the Moon Pool, and among the Openers of the Way. Something is coming to the Nightside, John, something very old and very powerful, enough to scare even me. It could change everything."

I leaned forward, caught up in his intensity. "How do you mean, 'change'?"

"Something that could save or damn us all." He smiled briefly. "Whether we like it or not. Which rather begs the question: what could be powerful enough to enforce its will upon the whole Nightside and make it stick?"

"My mother is gone," I said steadily. "And she won't be coming back."

"Well, that's good to know. But I wasn't thinking of her. This is a legend that made itself true, an artefact that can rewrite history. A weapon that could sweep the stars out of the sky."

"Does it have a name?" I said.

"Oh yes. And it's a name you'll know. But don't be fooled by the glamour. The stories were rewritten many times, to disguise just how terrible it is."

"Say the name," I said.

"Excalibur," whispered Razor Eddie, Punk God of the Straight Razor.

He got up and left before I could say anything, and I wasn't sure what I would have said anyway. Twice now someone had dropped that name, and not in a good way. I brushed dead flies off the table-top, and thought about it. Could this be the real thing, lost for centuries, come back out of legend and into history again, its time come round at last? How had Puck known about Excalibur? Was there some connection between that ancient sword and the most ancient of races? Supposedly, the great sword could only be wielded by the true King of England, or by the truly pure in heart; which ruled me out on both counts. In fact, I'd be hard-pressed to name anyone in the Nightside who came even close. So why was it coming here? Had someone summoned it? Or stolen it? Could it be a larger-than-usual piece of celestial flotsam and jetsam, washing up in the Nightside from God knows where… Or could its presence here answer some kind of purpose? Or destiny? Destiny can be a real bastard, in the Nightside.

It could save or damn us all…

My concentration was interrupted by the tinkling sound of "Tubular Bells," and I got out my mobile phone and answered it, glad to be interrupted. I hadn't liked where my thoughts were taking me…

"Hi. It's Suzie. The whole Mother Shipton business was a waste of time. She was warned, and the whole place was empty by the time I got here. Thing is, I'm almost sure the warning came from Walker. Like he wanted me out here, out of the way."

"Could be," I said. "Walker came to see me. He's up to something."

"I'm coming straight back," said Suzie. "Don't agree to anything, and above all don't sign anything until I've looked at it first."