And high above Earth the Venusian armada received telepathic orders to go to red alert.

  The clock ticked on towards the midnight hour.

  Toscanini wielded his baton.

  Freude, schöner Götterfunken,

  Tochter aus Elysium!

  sang the choir. Which was to say:

  Joy, beautiful spark of the Gods,

  Daughter of Elysium!

  Within the Venusian Hall, Lavinia Dharkstorrm called out the barbarous names. Shrieked the words of blasphemy that would herald in the time of the Lady Beast.

  And of the four, of the Air and

  of the Fire and of the Earth

  and of the Water, that they

  should be brought together into

  an unhallowed place, so shall

  the Lord God know that his

  people have fallen from his

  Grace and he be done with them.

  The Book of Sayito

  A darkness of Death itself cloaked all without.

  A chill wind blew through the ragged holes in the great hall’s wounded sides.

  Lavinia Dharkstorrm screamed the spell of terrible power. And things looked rather grim for planet Earth.

  57

  hunder rolled across the sky. Lightning tore the heavens into shreds.

  Within the concert hall, the Ninth was growing steadily towards its climax.

  Ihr stürzt nieder, Millionen?

  Ahnest du den Schöpfer, Welt?

  You bow down, millions?

  Can you sense the Creator, world?

  Within the Venusian Hall the darkness from without was seeping in across the floor, spreading like an oily flood.

  Lavinia’s voice echoed, shrill, inhuman, atavistic.

  Queer vibrations buzzed and battered at the walls of glass.

  Princess Pamela wrung her hands together.

  Lavinia Dharkstorrm howled and howled and howled.

  And then the great arched roof above buckled inwards, twisted, shattered and fell. Glass cascaded to the floor, bursting with explosive force.

  Lavinia Dharkstorrm shielded her face as down with the maelstrom of glass came Lady Raygun.

  She grabbed the witch by her raven hair and hurled her from her feet.

  ‘Too late!’ cried Lavinia Dharkstorrm. ‘The spell is done. The wheels are in motion. Nothing now can stop it.’

  ‘But I can kill you, sister dear.’ Lady Raygun drew her weapon, aimed it at her sister.

  Princess Pamela knocked it from her hand. ‘Wilt thou please kill this bl**dy woman!’ she shouted.

  ‘With the greatest pleasure, Madam Glory.’

  Rain lashed in through the broken roof. Darkness crept across the floor, far darker than the shadows left by lightning.

  Lavinia Dharkstorrm shifted shape, becoming once more a panther.

  She sprang towards her sister, but her sister ducked aside.

  The panther’s claws raised sparks upon the marble floor. Its tail whipped and its growl, deep-throated, was the very sound of Death itself.

  Once more it leapt. Lady Raygun snatched up one of the reliquaries and smashed it into the panther’s head. The creature lashed out with a claw, tearing flesh from her sister’s left shoulder.

  Lady Raygun sprang into the air, the curious membrane lifting her beyond the reach of the panther’s slashing talons.

  The panther prowled beneath, became an eagle, took to flight.

  Princess Pamela knotted her fists and called for the witch to kill.

  The eagle swelled, became as some terrible dragon. ‘Ee-oop,’ went Princess Pamela, ‘‘appen me powers are arrivin’.’

  And there was war in Heaven

  And the angel did give battle

  with the dragon.

  The Book of Sayito

  The dragon’s claws closed about Lady Raygun. Impregnable this lady might be to bullets, but not so to magic.

  ‘So die, sister!’ shrieked the dragon. ‘All is lost for you.’

  Its claws crushed harder and harder, squeezing life from the lady in the armoured corset, pressing in upon her heart, crushing at her bones.

  Lady Raygun’s eyes saw nothing but blackness. Darkness wrapped about her as a shroud …

  And then the dragon squawked. It cried and squawked and fell. Lady Raygun crashed to the floor, rolled over and lay still. The dragon, no longer a dragon, squawked as a chicken should.

  ‘And what of this?’ howled Princess Pamela.

  Leah the Venusian stepped from shadows, Darwin creeping fearfully behind her.

  ‘Who art thou?’ asked Princess Pamela, very much appalled.

  ‘I am your destroyer,’ said Leah. ‘You would bring this world to ruination. This I cannot allow.’

  ‘Thou art comely,’ said the princess. ‘Side with me, thou pretty thing. When all t’ world is mine, I’ll ‘ave thee for my sweetest concubine.’

  Leah shuddered somewhat at the thought. And shuddered too for the chill that was growing in the great hall. As the storm raged above, icy rain fell and evil darkness closed from every corner. Leah snatched up the chicken and swiftly wrung its neck.

  ‘What?’ The princess stared in horror. ‘Thou hast killed my acolyte?’

  ‘And so too you must die.’ Leah raised her wonderful fingers, weaving magic from them into the troubled air. White light spread from her fingertips, became a dazzling radiant beam that struck out at Princess Pamela.

  But the Lady Beast in pink just shook her head. ‘No, no, no,’ said she, a-waggling a fleshy finger. Then, opening very wide her mouth, she swallowed up the light. ‘Only moments now,’ said Princess Pamela, belching rather loudly. ‘And all shalt kneel before me. But thee first, I’m thinkin’.’

  And now a fierce pink light welled out about the princess, focused into a fiery ball and flew at Leah’s face.

  Leah raised a slender hand. The ball of fire became as ice and fell in dazzling splinters to the floor, mingled with the shattered glass and spreading darkness, faded and was gone.

  Leah threw wide her arms. ‘You are alone in your evil,’ she cried. ‘But we of Venus are the First Race and we have remained pure. Your magic is no match for ours.

  ‘Thou liest, chuck,’ said Princess Pamela, pushing back her sleeves. ‘Thy people skulk now in space, preparing to toss bombs down on t’ Earth. But moments soon, when planets align, I shall cast a ring o’ fire to swallow every one. Leah opened wide her mouth to sing a spell of death.

  Princess Pamela shook her head. ‘Thou canst not do it,’ she said.

  Leah’s golden eyes shone from within. Rain lashed down upon her. Lightning etched her features onto blackness. Her fingertips plucked magic from the aether.

  A look of doubt appeared upon the face of Princess Pamela.

  Icy fingers clutched about her heart.

  ‘Oh no, lass,’ she croaked, and staggered backwards. ‘Is this the power of thy people — that thou wouldst give up thine own life to destroy mine?’

  ‘Gladly,’ cried Leah. ‘To save the people of this world and my own, too, from you.

  Princess Pamela made her fiercest face. ‘If thou desirest death,’ she shouted, ‘then thou shalt ‘ave it now!’

  For the princess had seen what Leah had not. That a single flea had dropped from the chicken when Leah wrung its neck. A single flea that now swelled into the shape of Lavinia Dharkstorrm. The evil witch sprang forwards and took Leah by the throat.

  Princess Pamela cocked her head on one side. ‘Oh dear, ‘she crowed. ‘Thou art lost for words, my pretty. Dear Lavinia, kill ‘er, if thou wilt.’

  Her left hand gripping Leah by the throat, Lavinia Dharkstorrm laughed, and as the storm thrashed now within the Hall of Venus, she raised her left hand to the sky and a weapon of death appeared in it, a magical athame.

  ‘It takes powerful magic to kill one of powerful magic,’ she cried. ‘I put my force in this so you might die.’

  Lightning flashed within the great hall, showered sparks from the
tip of the magical blade, shone upon the women’s faces.

  Upon Princess Pamela, bloated, vile, the twin of the noble monarch, yet a monster in human form.

  Upon the beautiful Leah, helpless to speak words of magic, golden-eyed as Athena, virgin Goddess sprung from mighty Zeus.

  Upon Lavinia Dharkstorrm, evil incarnate, mauve of eye and black of heart. The worst and most deadly of women.

  And now upon something more. Something terrific and awful to behold. A hand snatched the magical blade from Lavinia’s grip. Another spun her about on her heels to stare at the face of Death.

  The face of a demon glared upon the witch. A face of foul, malignant distortion. The eyes those of a basilisk, a lipless mouth displaying jagged sharpened teeth. Rain spattered, as of blood upon scaled flesh, ran down from the naked scalp, dropped from the pointed chin.

  Lavinia Dharkstorrm gaped in horror at the monstrous face. And then the blade went in. Again and again it plunged into her heart. Again once more and again.

  Lavinia Dharkstorrm’s eyes became glazed. And perhaps for that fleeting moment some humanity returned to her.

  ‘Sister,’ she whispered. ‘Dear sister, please forgive me. Lady Raygun cast the lifeless corpse aside. ‘‘Tis done now,’ said she, ‘and done with a magical blade.’

  She wiped this blade upon her leather-sectioned skirt and advanced upon the princess all in pink.

  Lightning rent the heavens with its fury.

  Rain gushed in.

  A fierce wind blew.

  ‘Of fire,’ cried Lady Raygun, ‘and of water and of air. And you shall know the earth.’

  ‘And what knowest thou of this?’ howled Princess Pamela.

  ‘You crafted me a demon’s face. But I know well my scriptures,’ said the Mistress of Mystery, her terrible mouth curled in a hideous grin. ‘You have spent your magic upon the Venusian. You have no more to hurl at me.

  ‘Too late.’ And at that moment there was nothing to be heard. The sound of the storm ceased its awful cries. The raindrops appeared to hover in the frozen air. The darkness closed on all beneath and drew down from above.

  Yet moving, somehow, with the slowest of motions. As if viewed through the slot of zoetrope, Lady Raygun threw herself forwards at the Lady Beast, struck her from her feet and flung her into the terrible darkness.

  The Lady Beast rose up and swung a fist and knocked the lady down. And all about the great hall, the two figures wrestled, locked together in titanic conflict.

  To the centre of this hall, the Sphere of Nothingness glowed from within, as above the seconds closed towards midnight and the planets fell into alignment.

  The Lady Beast snatched up one of the heavy posts that held the ropes shielding the Sphere of Nothingness. She raised it high above her head and brought it down with force on Lady Raygun.

  The lady buckled beneath the monstrous blow. The Lady Beast stepped forwards and stood astride her. ‘Now is my time!’ she cried. She lifted high once more the heavy post. Prepared to bring it down a final time.

  Lady Raygun looked up at the Lady Beast that loomed above her. The Lady Beast that would take Victoria’s throne, lay waste to the people of the Empire and indeed kill the one she loved so dearly. Lavinia Dharkstorrm, the evil sister, was dead. Leah lay unconscious in the ever—rising darkness. Only she remained to slay the Lady Beast. And she, it appeared, would very shortly die.

  The Lady Beast held high that heavy post. ‘Mine, all mine!’ she shouted.

  Then— ‘Get off me! Ouch!’ she bellowed, swinging around and flailing at herself. Something was attached to the buttocks of the Lady Beast.

  That something was Darwin the monkey.

  The simian’s teeth were well dug in to the flesh of a beastly buttock. The Lady Beast danced squawking to and fro.

  And all, it appeared in this twilight moment of time, slowed down to almost nothing at all.

  Lady Raygun arose as the Angel of Death. Her high boot-heels left the terrible darkness and the magical membrane bore her smoothly aloft. She swung in an acrobatic loop a foot, striking home in a jowl of the Lady Beast.

  Princess Pamela, Madam Glory, Lady Beast and all toppled backwards.

  Darwin loosened his teeth and skittered away.

  And flailing at the frozen air, unable to maintain her balance, back she fell.

  Backwards. Backwards.

  Into the Sphere of Nothing whatever at all.

  A flash of light.

  A clash of cymbals.

  Be embraced, millions!

  This kiss for the whole world!

  Brothers, above the starry canopy

  Must a loving Father dwell

  Arturo Toscanini brought down his baton to close the fourth movement. He mouthed a single word to his orchestra and chorus. The single word, ‘Bravo.’

  The audience erupted into cheers.

  The thunder and the lightning ceased.

  And all throughout the British Empire …

  Church bells hailed the coming century.

  58

  he audience in the concert hall rose to a standing ovation.

  The choir bowed, the orchestra bowed and Arturo Toscanini blew out kisses to the ladies.

  ‘Wasn’t that just the most wonderful thing?’ called Ernest Rutherford, up on his feet, to the seated Violet Wond.

  The lady in the veil said nothing at all.

  ‘Are you all right, my dearest?’ Ernest Rutherford touched her shoulder. The veil and clothes fell in upon themselves. For there was no one inside them.

  ‘Now however did you do that?’ wondered Ernest Rutherford.

  But that was something he would never know.

  Lady Raygun drew her rubber headpiece down across her terrible features. Darwin stroked the head of Leah. The Venusian opened her golden eyes and smiled upon the ape.

  ‘Did you do what you had to do?’ she asked. Darwin nodded. ‘I did.’

  Leah clutched his hand and said, ‘And now all will be well.’

  Two men stood in the doorway that separated the Hall of British Industry from the Venusian Hall. One was a controversial cleric. The other looked very much like Mr Pickwick.

  The Pickwickian fellow lit up a fine cigar.

  ‘You could have helped,’ said Cardinal Cox. For it indeed was he.

  ‘You, too,’ said Cameron Bell, exhaling smoke. ‘You were all prepared to speak the words of the exorcism.’

  ‘True,’ agreed the cardinal. ‘But you are the one with the dirty great ray gun.

  Cameron Bell shouldered the dirty great ray gun. ‘And I would have used it,’ said he. ‘Perhaps. If it had been absolutely necessary. But if there is one thing that this long and troubled case has taught me, it is not to get involved with wilful women, if you can possibly avoid it.’

  Cardinal Cox nodded his head.

  ‘Two women started it all,’ said Cameron Bell, ‘and another two women finished it.’

  ‘Two ladies,’ agreed the cardinal. ‘And there was some monkey involvement.’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ said Mr Bell. ‘Darwin,’ he called out to the ape. ‘Are you all right there, my old ex-partner?’

  Darwin raised a thumb to the detective. ‘Hello, Mr Bell,’ he said. ‘And thank you so much for not blowing all of us up.

  ‘We are going for some champagne,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘Would you care to join us?’

  ‘And the ladies?’ Darwin asked.

  ‘Indeed,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘Those two ladies certainly deserve the best champagne.’

  There were of course many questions that had to be answered regarding what precisely had actually occurred in London on New Year’s Eve, and at times the answers appeared to fall a little short of the mark. The newspapers came to a consensus, however, which held to the opinion that the hero of the day was Mr Winston Churchill.

  His selfless tactics had brought an end to the anarchists’ reign of terror. For the anarchists, in the garb of pirates, all lay dead in the Mall.

  The ne
wspapers were also in agreement regarding the matter of the vast pink turreted castle which stood foursquare upon ground once occupied by Buckingham Palace.

  It was all the work of that fashionable fellow Señor David Voice, the London-tram-driver-turned-architect whose famous bagnio was well attended by members of the press.

  The pink palace had been erected overnight as a gift from a grateful nation to their much-beloved Queen to celebrate the dawning of the twentieth century.

  And when corpses were cleared and red snow washed away, the Grand Exposition, with its Venusian Hall temporarily closed for repair work, opened to the general public.

  Mr Rutherford’s time-ship proved a most popular exhibit, but soon had to be withdrawn from display.

  It just prompted too many questions.

  Chief amongst these was this. Why, folk wanted to know, if the British Empire now possessed a time machine, why did it not dispatch soldiers of the Queen in the company of modern back-engineered weaponry to destroy all the Martians in eighteen eighty-five, before they attacked this world?

  And many other such questions.

  Many involving the anarchists.

  There were no anarchists present upon February the fourteenth when Lord Brentford married Leah the Venusian.

  The wedding did not occur in secret at a gambling city upon Jupiter, but was a state occasion in the very heart of London. Queen Victoria attended. So too did many of the senior ecclesiastics of Venus.

  Their telepathic powers had enabled them to know the part Leah had played in the destruction of the Lady Beast, and as she had every intention of marrying Lord Brentford anyway, no matter what they thought, they deemed it diplomatically best to give the wedding their blessing.