I caught glimpses of the others, as we went to war.
Sir Parsifal wielded Ex Caliburn with practised skill and silent fury. Cutting down every generic figure who came against him, moving always on to the next target. He fought for duty and honour and the protection of Humanity, as a London Knight should, and there was no room left in him after that, for small things like mercy or compassion. I don’t think he cared who he was fighting, it was enough for him that they had been declared the enemy. He strode heavily forward in his armour, slamming the dead and the dying out of his way, singing a martial hymn behind his steel helm. Blood soaked his armour, falling away to be replaced by fresh. Sir Parsifal lived to fight the forces of evil. For him, this was a good day.
J. C. Chance thrust his Hand of Glory out before him—a wrinkled, withered thing whose stick-like fingers had been made into candles. The fingertips burned with a constant blue flame that never went out. And wherever J.C. pointed the monkey’s paw, the generic men just froze up and fell paralysed to the ground. They fell in waves as he swept the nasty thing back and forth, and he strode easily over the unmoving bodies. Sometimes a generic man would get too close, and then J.C. would glare into the unfinished face with his glowing gaze, and they would scream and fall away, writhing in horror on the bloody grass. J.C. would laugh at them as they fell, and something in that sound made me shudder, just for a moment.
Natasha Chang waved her piece of secret tech around, almost aimlessly, as though wafting clouds of bug spray on the night air, but wherever she pointed the thing, generic men would just softly and silently vanish away. Gone, disappeared, banished out of existence. I had no idea whether they were dead or not, but given Natasha Chang’s reputation, I had my suspicions. She laughed like a child as she stepped daintily over dead bodies, making men disappear forever.
Dead Boy just hit everyone who came within reach. He advanced happily into the ranks of the generic men, lashing out with the terrible strength of his dead arms. Flesh and bone broke under his blows, but he felt nothing, nothing at all. Hands grabbed at him from every side, fastening on to the deep purple greatcoat, but all their strength put together wasn’t enough to stop him, or even slow him down. He punched heads and smashed faces, broke arms and backs and necks, striking everyone down who came at him, hammering generic men to the ground and then happily trampling them into the bloody dirt. They couldn’t hurt him, and they couldn’t frighten him, because the worst possible thing had already happened to him, years before.
Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat brought up the rear. And when the generic men would push past the rest of us, hoping to attack us from the rear, they came face to face with the Bear, and stopped dead in their tracks. Because they had never seen anything like him before. They bowed their heads and bent their knees to him, and adored him. Because he was that sort of Bear. And they had waited all their lives to meet someone like him, without ever knowing it. The Bear moved slowly, steadily forward, smiling on them all, patting them on their lowered heads with his fuzzy paw. The Sea Goat stuck close behind him, watching carefully, but his shillelagh was never needed.
Finally, I fought my way up a grassy slope to reach the Casino Infernale hotel. The generic men fought ever more desperately, but they couldn’t stop me. I reached the front door to the lobby, and Molly was immediately there at my side. I kicked the door in, and the two of us burst into the deserted lobby. I spun around and locked the door, and my uncle Jack was right there to set his back against the locked door and defy anyone to get past him. To buy Molly and me time to find the Shadow Bank’s head-quarters. Because they would have to kill him to get past him, and there weren’t many good enough to take down Jack Drood.
But, it did rather put the pressure on me, to get a move on.
I armoured down, and Molly and I leaned on each other for a moment, to get our breath back. Killing is hard work, slaughter even more so.
“All right,” Molly said finally. “What do we do now? That hopefully doesn’t involve any actual effort, or even strenuous movement.”
I looked around the lobby. The place was completely deserted, and eerily quiet. “Well,” I said. “I was hoping to ask a member of the staff for directions, but . . .”
“They probably grabbed the petty cash and ran for their lives the moment it became clear everything was going tits up,” said Molly. “I would have. I did check there weren’t any people present, before I brought the hotel here. I do think these things through! Because I know you worry about things like that. . . . What are we looking for, exactly?”
“Computers,” I said. “Records of financial transactions, details on all their clients. Everything the generic people need to run the Shadow Bank. They’ve got to be here somewhere. . . .”
“It’s a hell of a big hotel,” said Molly. “We haven’t got time to search it top to bottom.”
“Ah!” I said. “Where is the one place we went that drove the people in charge here absolutely batshit?”
“Parris’ private office!” said Molly. “And since I’ve already been there, I have enough coordinates for a personal teleport!”
“Do you have enough magic left for that?” I said carefully. “Only I’d hate for only part of us to make it there. . . . Wouldn’t it be easier to find a dimensional door and use that?”
Molly looked at me pityingly. “Would you trust one, right now? Or even the elevators?”
“Good point,” I said. “Almost certainly booby-trapped. It’s what I’d do. But, are you sure you’ve got enough magic. . . .”
“Shut up, and let me concentrate,” said Molly. She scowled deeply. Beads of sweat popped out on her forehead. She snapped her fingers, and just like that, we were in Parris’ private office.
We’d only just arrived when Molly cried out and grabbed on to me to stop herself from falling. I held her up, and glared about me, but there was no obvious threat anywhere.
“What is it, Molly?”
“A null!” said Molly. “There’s a major null operating here! Ripped the last of the magic right out of me. Bastards!”
“Hold on, Molly,” I said.
I subvocalised my activating Words, and my armour slammed into place around me. Because there isn’t a null big enough anywhere to keep a Drood from his armour. I glared about me through my golden mask, with all its augmented vision, and it took me only a moment to track down the null generator. I could See it clearly, hidden behind a wall. I lowered Molly carefully onto the nearest chair, behind the desk, and hurried over to the wall. I ripped it apart with my golden hands, and wood and plaster flew in all directions. The generator stretched all along the wall, a thin layer of unfamiliar high tech, with moving parts and glittering lights. I plunged both hands into the exposed machinery and tore it apart, piece by piece, glancing back over my shoulder to see what effect I was having. Molly remained slumped in her chair, her face worryingly slack, until I finally found the right piece to destroy. And then all the lights in the wall went out and Molly sat bolt upright, smiling widely with relief.
“Oh, that is so much better!” she said loudly. “That’s it. I’m back. I hadn’t realised how low I was running till I didn’t have anything left to keep me going.” She grinned at me. “I knew there had to be a reason why I kept you around.”
I armoured down, and went back to join her at the desk. Molly quickly used her magic to override the desk’s security systems, and the built-in computer immediately showed her where the hidden switch was. She hit it, and the whole wall behind her slid smoothly to one side, revealing a huge open area beyond, packed full of computers and high-tech equipment.
“We were so close, all along, and never knew it,” said Molly.
“We weren’t completely ourselves then,” I said consolingly.
“Bloody well are now,” growled Molly. “Come on, let’s go take a look around, and see what trouble we can cause.”
“That’s always wor
ked for me,” I said.
We moved cautiously forward into the computer room. A large, gleaming white hall, full of rows of massive machines, towering above us, falling away in every direction. We wandered between rows of machines I didn’t even recognise, let alone understand, like children who had ventured into adult territory for the first time. It was hard not to be overawed by the sheer scale of things. . . . but, we had been to the Martian Tombs.
“I think . . . we are looking at the financial records and dealings of every suspect organisation in the world,” I said. “Probably a lot of political stuff, too, the kind of things most of us are never supposed to know about. The Shadow Bank couldn’t do what it needs to do if it didn’t have political support . . . all the secret deals, the hidden agreements, all the bribes and blackmail of the private world. All here. Makes the actual Crow Lee Inheritance look small. . . .”
“Never thought I’d see the actual Shadow Bank’s inner workings with my own eyes,” said Molly. “Who owes what, who owns what . . . Look, Shaman, Eddie, whoever you are right now—we have to consider the possibilities. If we were to take control of this, just you and me, we’d have the power to put everything in the world right, at last. Make everyone place nicely with each other. We could put an end to all the bad guys, forever.”
“Power corrupts,” I said. “We couldn’t do this on our own. We’d have to bring in my family. And the Droods are already far too powerful for their own good. I’ve had to pull them back from the brink once; this could push them right over the edge. If my family were to take control of the Shadow Bank, even for the noblest of reasons, we’d end up becoming the Shadow Bank. No. My family can’t be trusted with this. No one can. That’s the point. Better to destroy everything, and destroy the temptation that goes with it. Wipe all these records, and we financially cripple all the right people. And scare everyone else enough to give my family an advantage. I think that’s the best we can realistically hope for. A fighting chance. Which is, of course, all my family has ever needed.”
Molly sniffed loudly. “Sir Parsifal probably wouldn’t agree with you.”
“Just as well he’s not here, then,” I said. “Or any of the others.”
“You’re not tempted, even a little bit?” said Molly. “Isn’t there anything you want?”
“Just you,” I said.
“You always know the right thing to say,” said Molly. “Do you have any idea how annoying that is?”
“Yes,” I said.
We shared a smile, and then looked round again.
“Destroy it all,” I said. “Wipe it clean, and put an end to the Shadow Bank, at last. What do you think, Molly—a series of fires or one really big explosion?”
“You know how to spoil a girl,” said Molly. “Blow it all up!”
“And us, along with it?” said a quiet voice.
I looked round sharply, as a single generic man came out from between the huge machines. He was wearing a white lab coat that made me think immediately of my uncle Jack. He shuffled forward, almost tentatively, his hands held out before him to show they were empty. Molly brought up one hand, stray magics already spitting and crackling on the air around it, but I grabbed her arm, and made her stop. There was something about this one; he didn’t look dangerous, or menacing.
“What are you doing here?” I said. “Why aren’t you out fighting with the others?”
“One of us always has to be here,” he said. “To keep an eye on things.”
“You’re really the only one here?” said Molly, glaring suspiciously about her. “Because I swear if I see anyone moving around in the shadows, I will turn them inside out and leave them that way.”
“Just me,” said the generic man. “But what one of us sees, we all see. You know the rest. There’s always one of us here to see the machines run smoothly.”
“So, you’re the generic caretaker,” I said. “Are you going to give us any trouble?”
“I can’t stop you, whatever you decide to do here. I know that. But please, you must understand. Destroy the computers, and you destroy my people. We serve the Shadow Bank through these machines. We were made to serve. We will die without a purpose. We almost died out before the Shadow Bank’s original owners found us. I don’t believe we could survive another loss of purpose. Are you ready to commit genocide?”
“Hell yes,” said Molly. “After all the evil the Shadow Bank’s made possible? All the suffering and horror you people have been responsible for? And, you just tried to kill us!”
“After everything you’re responsible for,” I said to the generic caretaker. “Now there’s a thought. . . . No, I won’t be responsible for wiping you out. That’s the difference, right there, between you and me. I’ve got a much better idea. What if I was to give your people another purpose?”
Molly leaned in close to me. “Are you sure about this?” she said quietly. “I mean, you know I love your ideas, but . . . can you rely on this lot to do whatever it is you’re about to ask them to do?”
“Oh, I think so,” I said quietly. “As long as my family is there, looking over their shoulders.”
“Oh, hell,” said Molly. “Go for it. Genocide always makes me feel queasy.”
“Take what these machines know,” I said to the generic caretaker, “and use it to set people free. Destroy the financial records of all the evil organisations and individuals, make them bankrupt . . . and then use that money to put right all the wrongs you people have made possible. And set free all the souls you own, so they can move on to wherever they belong. Then, use the knowledge the Shadow Bank has acquired down the years to expose the hidden deals and corrupt conspiracies, and help make the world a better place. I know, Molly, I’m being idealistic again. But we have to try. Because it’s either that, or killing an entire people. And I’m just not in the mood. I’m an agent, not an assassin, remember? You, generic caretaker . . . do you accept the new purpose I give you?”
“Yes,” he said. “We live to serve.”
“Good,” I said. “And by the time you’ve finished with everything I’ve just said, my family will have thought of something else that needs doing, to keep you occupied.”
“Good,” said the generic man. “It will help us to have masters again.”
“Then tell your people,” I said.
“They already know. The fighting has stopped. The killing is over. It is no longer necessary. We have a new purpose.”
“Damn,” said Molly. “You people are seriously creepy.”
“And you people,” said the generic man, “are seriously scary. Because you’re always so certain.”
• • •
We took the elevator back down to the lobby. Molly was almost completely out of magic. We walked out of the lobby, and found our friends and allies standing together outside the hotel. Looking around them in a confused sort of way. The generic army had moved back, and were standing still, awaiting new instructions from their new masters. The moment Molly and I appeared, the whole generic army bowed their heads to us. The Armourer armoured down.
“Eddie? Molly? What have you done?”
“We won,” I said cheerfully. “The war is over, the Shadow Bank is no more, and the generic people work for the Droods now.”
“Bloody typical,” said J.C. He was breathing hard, and there was blood on his white suit. “We do all the hard work, and the Droods reap all the rewards. Don’t the rest of us get anything out of this?”
“The satisfaction of a job well done,” said Sir Parsifal.
Dead Boy looked at the London Knight. “You’re weird. And I have to ask, why are some of those empty-faced people gathered around Bruin Bear, and worshipping him?”
“Because he’s that sort of Bear,” I said. I moved over to the nearest generic person. “Are you sure there won’t be any bad feelings over all of your kind who died here?”
“We are one,” said the generic man calmly. “What’s a few bodies?”
“That,” said Molly. “That, right there, is what’s wrong.”
“No wonder you ran the Shadow Bank the way you did,” I said.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Going Home
I stood at the end of a terribly long corridor deep within the hotel, with Molly at my side. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of faces lined both walls, staring out of simple wooden frames. Souls, lost souls; lost in games of chance at Casino Infernale. So many suffering faces, held in place behind polished glass, staring endlessly out with haunted eyes. Mouths moving silently, in pleas for help that the world never heard. Like insects trapped under glass, pinned in place, caught between Life and Death, for as long as Casino Infernale, or the Shadow Bank, had a use for them. I looked down the endless length of the corridor, at all the lost souls; and I don’t think I’d ever felt so angry. Molly moved in close beside me, to comfort me with her presence.
“Some things just aren’t right,” I said. “Some crimes really are inhuman.”
“I know,” said Molly.
“I did ask my uncle Jack if he wanted to be here with me when I did this,” I said. “He said thank you, but no. He wanted to make sure the others got home safely.”
“He probably felt responsible for them,” said Molly. “He was the one who called them to the Summit Meeting in the first place.”
“No,” I said. “That wasn’t the reason. I think he’s not here because he knew about this and never did anything about it. He just followed the family’s orders. Because they were afraid to do anything that might upset the apple cart. Because they were always ready to deal with the devil they knew . . . rather than risk something worse. And to hell with the cost. My uncle is a good man. A brave man. But he always was too ready to let other people make the big decisions for him.”