Simon Green - Daemons Are Forever

“No one knows for sure,” said Subway Sue, doing her best not to sound defensive. “People just stopped coming out the other end when they used it. The best bet seems to be that something lives there now, and eats travellers. Something… really bad.”

“Who’s that trot-trotting across my bridge, said the troll,” murmured Harry.

Sue glared at him. “I will slap you in a minute, and it will hurt.”

“Well, thank you for all your time and efforts on our behalf, Sue,” I said. “But we already have our own instantaneous, undetectable means of transporting ourselves into the ghoulvilles. But should any problems arise, I’m sure we’ll all feel better knowing we have your Damnation Way to fall back on.”

I was being kind, and everyone there knew it. Including Subway Sue. She just nodded stiffly, turned her back on us, and stalked out of the Sanctity. I looked at the others.

“End of briefing. You all know everything you need to know. Stop off at the Armoury and pick up your bombs, and then get to know the people in your various strike forces, before reporting to the War Room for the off.”

“I have a few questions,” said Harry.

“Yes,” I said. “I thought you might have. What is it, Harry?”

“Well, to start with, where is the infamous Molly Metcalf? Shouldn’t a witch of her undoubted talents be one of the lucky people leading a strike force?”

“Oh, she’s around,” I said. “Making herself useful.”

Molly had wanted to go into the nests and work her infamous mayhem, but I had to say no. I couldn’t risk her infected nature suddenly surfacing, so close to a tower. She said she understood. I hadn’t seen her since.

“And this…remarkable new means of transport,” said Harry. “Have you some new miracle device, hidden in your pocket?”

I had to grin. “Funny you should say that, Harry…” Molly was waiting for us in the great stone cavern of the War Room when the Matriarch and I finally arrived, some time later. She smiled at us, but not with all her attention, as though she was thinking of something else. I deliberately looked away. The War Room was pretty much deserted, by normal standards. I hardly recognised the place. Most of the workstations and display screens had been shut down so the War Room could operate on a skeleton crew. It was strange to see all the world maps without their usual glowing coloured lights, but we no longer cared about what was going on in the rest of the world.

The Matriarch went straight to her operations table, and was immediately surrounded by a dozen runners bearing the latest reports and intelligence updates. I wandered round the room, checking out the remaining communications staff. We were down to the very basics there, too. Most of the War Room staff had joined the thousands of armoured figures waiting more or less patiently in the corridors outside, preparing themselves for the battles to come. Normally every agent operating out in the field could count on having hundreds of people at the Hall to back them up, ready to provide information, advice, or support; but we couldn’t afford that now. Everyone had to fight. This was to be slash and burn, cold killing, butcher’s work.

I circled the War Room and ended up back beside Molly. She looked…taut, under strain, like a piece of wire stretched so thin it might break at any moment. I wanted to put my arm around her, but I knew she wouldn’t want that. Molly always had to appear hard and confident, in public. She would have hated even the thought that anyone might see her as weak. So I just stood as close to her as I could, and kept my voice calm and easy, as though we did this whole battle for the fate of all humanity bit every day.

“So,” I said. “Looks like it’s all kicking off, at last. Marching into Hell for a Heavenly cause, and all that. Where have you been?”

“Out in the grounds,” she said. “It’s very peaceful out there.”

She didn’t say anything about Harry and Roger, and I didn’t feel like pressing her. But it did make me wonder if she might be keeping other secrets from me too. She could have killed Sebastian, for all kinds of reasons. How could I protect her if I didn’t know what to protect her from?

“Listen,” she said abruptly, still not actually looking at me. “Don’t get yourself killed, all right?”

“I’m not going out with the strike forces,” I said. “I’ll be running things from here. Safe and sound, far from any harm.”

“I know you, Eddie. The first time anything goes wrong, you’ll be off and running to play the hero one more time. You can’t help yourself. It’s who you are. So… watch yourself out there. Watch your back. There are traitors everywhere, these days. And… I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I didn’t have you anymore.”

“It’s all going to be all right,” I said. It didn’t sound convincing even as I said it, but I didn’t know what else to say. I couldn’t hold her in public, so I just took her hand in mine and squeezed it. She squeezed back, still not looking at me.

We stood together, watching the main display screens as they showed constantly shifting views of the golden army continuing to assemble in the corridors outside, standing in their ranks for as far as the eye could see. There was surprisingly little chatter; everyone seemed taken up with their own thoughts. The old and the young stood watching in the background, no doubt silently wondering if they’d ever see their loved ones again. I never got to see my parents off, on their last, fatal mission. Teacher wouldn’t let me out of class. By the time I managed to sneak off, it was too late; they’d already gone. I never saw them again.

It’s mattered to me more and more of late, that I never got to say good-bye.

Anything, for the family. Damn the family. And damn the world that makes us necessary.

The various strike force leaders turned up, having checked their people, the stress and the strain making them act like exaggerated cartoons of themselves. Giles Deathstalker strode in like the soldier he was, and crashed to attention before the Matriarch’s desk. She acknowledged him with a flick of an eyebrow, and went back to work. Harry and Roger sauntered in, ostentatiously hand in hand. The Matriarch wouldn’t even look in their direction. I don’t know quite when Mr. Stab arrived. I just looked up and there he was, a Victorian anachronism amidst so much twenty-first-century technology. The Sarjeant-at-Arms came rushing in a few moments later, clearly annoyed at Mr. Stab having slipped his leash. He glared hard at his elusive responsibility and moved forward to stand right beside him. Mr. Stab just nodded politely.

The Armourer bustled in carrying a big bag full of useful bits and pieces, with half a dozen lab techs scurrying after him like eager puppies. And Callan Drood arrived late, of course, complaining bitterly over something inappropriate with the Blue Fairy, who pretended politely to be listening.

And that was that. These people would lead the four main strike forces, dealing with the most dangerous situations, and the most nearly completed towers. All the other strike forces were being led by our most experienced field agents. I should have been leading one of the forces. Preferably with Molly at my side. But I had taken on all the duties of leadership when I took command of the family, and that included standing by and watching helplessly as others went off to fight and die at my command. Martha said it never got any easier. Which made it a lot simpler to understand how she’d ended up the way she was.

Harry strolled over to join Molly and me, Roger close at his side. Harry ostentatiously ignored Molly to smile at me.

“Well now, Eddie,” he said, making a brave stab at casual. “When are you going to whip your latest miracle out of your hip pocket and amaze us all? Just how are we going to burst into all these nests and ghoulvilles without being detected? I know you love to save your brilliant save-the-day ideas to the very last moment, but we really are getting terribly close to the off.”