Rod Rees - The Demi-Monde - Winter

‘A Grade One Daemon?’ asked Trixie.

Crowley’s forehead furrowed: he obviously disliked being interrupted in mid-sermon. ‘The Daemons who entered the Demi-Monde before were little more than malevolent imps. They destroyed bridges, they incited unrest, they gave encouragement to the enemies of the ForthRight, but when captured and questioned…’

Poor swine.

‘… they were found to be empty vessels. They knew little of the worlds that lie beyond the Mystical Integument; they knew nothing of the intentions of their Dark Masters. Most were unintelligent and bestial: lowly Grade Fives of no consequence. But now…’ He paused dramatically. ‘The Daemon we have captured is different: it is fully cogent and aware. It is, we believe, privy to the deepest secrets of the Dark Daemons and to the ambitions of their Master, Loki, regarding the Demi-Monde.’

Crowley gestured towards Crockett that his glass should be replenished. Trixie was disgusted that he should be indulging so heavily so early in the evening. Obviously the man had a huge and overwhelming appetite for blood: perhaps that was why, although he was still relatively young, his flesh had started to soften and his complexion to blotch.

‘Unfortunately our experiences in interrogating lesser-ranked Daemons are that should they be subject to coercion, they become dysfunctional; it is as though their minds switch off. That is why we have determined on this new policy in which you, Lady Trixiebell, will have such a key role.’

Trixie felt every eye in the room turn in her direction. She fidgeted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. ‘I am always ready to do whatever is necessary to help the ForthRight and to do the Leader’s will,’ she said, mouthing the words her father had made her memorise.

‘Excellent. But put your mind at rest on one thing, young lady: this Daemon, though duplicitous and conniving, is not physically threatening. It has manifested itself in the shape of a young woman and there is no record of a Daemon ever transmogrifying itself whilst in the Demi-Monde. There is no risk of you being confronted by a Daemon in its true and horrific guise.’

Well, that’s reassuring.

‘But whilst there is no physical threat to your person, Lady Trixiebell, there is, I regret to say, a spiritual threat. The natural inclination of a Daemon confronted by a human is to try to corrupt their soul. Daemons are great deceivers. Make no mistake, Lady Trixiebell, this creature will attempt to fox you, to persuade you that it is not what it truly is. That is the one thing you must continually be on your guard against: feeling sorry for the Daemon. As you know, Lady Trixiebell, the aiding and abetting of a Daemon is one of the greatest of all sins against UnFunDaMentalism, so you must harden your heart against its trickery and its perfidy. You have been chosen, Lady Trixiebell, because you are a Pragmatist, because you are, by inclination, a RaTionalist.’

Crowley held up his hand to still the gasp of protest that came from Trixie’s father. ‘Calm yourself, Comrade Commissar, it is not my intention to chastise Lady Trixiebell for her doubts. As I myself have noted, the Key of Joy is disobedience. It is the role of the young to be dubious of the teachings of their elders: the young are inclined to be impetuous.’ He smiled at Trixie and she was amazed to see that Crowley’s canine teeth had been sharpened. The man, she decided, must be totally mad. ‘I am confident,’ he continued, ‘that the proto-RaTionalist that is Lady Trixiebell Dashwood will emerge from her communion with a denizen of the Spirit World a changed woman, perhaps even as a candidate for the SisterHood.’

Over my dead body.

‘But on a more practical note, it will be important for you, Lady Trixiebell, to record everything you discuss with the Daemon and to note down everything, no matter how trivial, the Daemon says. It is also vital that you adhere to all the security arrangements that Captain Dabrowski has put in place: it is imperative that the Daemon is not allowed to escape or to be rescued.’

‘Rescued?’ asked Dashwood.

‘You should be under no illusion as to what a prize you will have living with you, Comrade Commissar Dashwood. This Daemon possesses the secrets of the world beyond ours, and so it is almost inevitable that other Daemons will seek to rescue it. And then, of course, there are the more prosaic temptations the Daemon presents to our fellow Demi-Mondians. The Daemon is possessed of blood and it is not beyond the realms of possibility that Shaka’s Blood Brothers will attempt to abduct the Daemon in order to drain it.’

The thought of the Dashwood Manor being assaulted by a Zulu HimPi made Trixie shudder. Maybe, she thought, the presence of Captain Dabrowski and his Checkya detachment wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

‘You have fifteen days. In fifteen days we will hold a reception, here in the Dashwood Manor, to present the Daemon to Comrade Leader Heydrich and by then it is necessary that it is both docile and cooperative.’ Crowley turned to Captain Dabrowski. ‘Now, Captain, I would be grateful if you would release the Daemon from the steamer parked outside. It is time Lady Trixiebell met her companion.’

The Real World: 12 June 2018

Area of Tension #1, Population Density: The OutSet density of population of the Demi-Monde ^® is almost 70,000 persons per mile ^2, which comfortably exceeds the figure of 60,000 persons per mile ^2 believed by sociologists to be the maximum density sustainable in an urban milieu without the disintegration of discipline and the breakdown of law and order. As a consequence it is confidently predicted that post-OutSet the AntiSocial Behaviour Quotient (ABQ) registered in the Demi-Monde will accelerate, leading to social unrest, to violent disorder on a mass scale and, ultimately and inevitably, to the outbreak of inter- and intra-Sectorial war.

– The Demi-Monde® Product Description Manual: 14 June 2013

‘You want me to go to hell?’

‘Perhaps that’s a somewhat melodramatic way of putting it,’ admitted the General, ‘but in essence the answer is yes. We want you to enter hell. We want you to enter the Demi-Monde.’

‘Enter?’

‘We want you to become a Dupe in the Demi-Monde.’

Ella guffawed. ‘Look, General, I don’t wanna rain on your parade but you and the Captain have just finished telling me how the Demi-Monde is mean as catshit and twice as nasty, and now you’re offering me the chance to mix and mingle. Pardon me if I give a big no to that offer.’

‘There is just one more… wrinkle I should explain before we discuss how we see you being able to help us, Miss Thomas.’

The guy must be hard of hearing.

‘As Captain Sanderson has explained, the design team led by Professor Bole was charged with raising the inter-Sectorial disharmonics evident in the Demi-Monde such that at least two Sectors would always be at war. Therefore it was felt necessary to promote intense competition between the Sectors, to have them vie for possession of a scarce commodity that they were desperate to possess. In the Real World this might be the control of oil deposits or water resources but the Professor here was more mischievous in his choice of commodity: he chose blood.’

‘Blood?’ Ella asked, nervously wondering where this question would lead.

‘We programmed the Dupes that inhabit the Demi-Monde so that they had a craving for blood,’ the Professor explained. ‘We made it so blood to the Demi-Mondian is like heroin to an addict, the only difference being that they can’t go cold turkey. Without blood they die in a fortnight.’

Ella stared at the Professor wide-eyed in disbelief. ‘Are you saying that everybody in the Demi-Monde is a vampire?’