“But . . . if he isn’t going to represent the new Authorities, who is? Who else is there, who can hold things together the way he has?”
“Ah,” said Julien. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”
He clapped me on the shoulder again and moved away to talk with Jessica. Who was actually almost half-way through her dessert. People can change. I looked over at Walker again. Much had suddenly become clear. I knew now why Walker had found it necessary to visit my house for the first time and call me son. When a man is facing his end, the first thing he thinks of is family, and who will carry on the family business. Walker turned suddenly, and caught me staring at him. He regarded me thoughtfully, dabbed at his nose one last time, folded the blood-stained handkerchief into a neat square, and tucked it back into his top pocket, then nodded for me to come over and join him.
I did so, carefully not allowing myself to be hurried, and stood beside him at the window. He stuck out his hand to me. I went to shake it, and he shook his head.
“The rings, John,” he said, firmly.
“Rings?” I said, innocently. “What rings?”
“The alien power rings you took off Bulldog Hammond earlier tonight, here at the Club. You know I can’t allow you to keep them.”
I dug into my coat pockets and handed them over. He counted the rings carefully, then made them vanish somewhere about his person. I wasn’t too upset. It wasn’t like I had a clue how to work the damned things.
“I was rather hoping you’d forgotten about them,” I said.
“I never forget anything that matters,” said Walker. “Julien . . . told you, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“I swear, that man never could keep a secret.”
“I don’t think he believes in them,” I said. “That’s why he runs a newspaper, so he can tell people things he thinks they ought to know. When were you going to tell me?”
“Eventually,” he said. “I was working up to it. I didn’t want to muddy the waters, not when there were still so many things we needed to work out between us.”
“This is why you’re not a part of the new Authorities,” I said, the penny suddenly dropping.
“They don’t need me,” said Walker. “In fact, as a new force in the Nightside, they’re better off operating without an outsider like me. They need to start with a completely clean slate, not having to be committed or supportive of any decision or action I might have taken in the past. They need to be their own people now. Of course, I still have a lot to do, while I’m still able to do it.”
“And when you’re not?” I said.
He looked at me steadily, then smiled unexpectedly. “I thought you might like to take over, John.”
“Me?” I was honestly shocked. “You know how much I’ve always hated authority figures!”
“The best man for my job is the man who doesn’t want it,” Walker said easily. “The man least likely to be corrupted by power is the man who never wanted it in the first place. And besides, doesn’t every father want his son to follow in his footsteps?”
“Don’t start that again,” I said. “Look, there has to be someone in the Nightside better qualified than me . . .”
“Almost certainly,” said Walker. “But who else do I know as well as I know you, John? Who else could I trust as much as I have learned to trust you?”
“Give me a minute, and I’ll make you a list,” I said. “Walker . . . Henry, there must be somebody who can help you.”
“No,” said Walker. “There isn’t. I’ve looked. In all the places you can think of, and a few that would never even occur to you.”
“What about the Street of the Gods? There are Beings there who raise the dead and heal the sick every day of the week, and run special matinees for the tourists!”
“Not in any useful way,” said Walker. “There are . . . possibilities, I admit, but they all involve paying a price I find unacceptable.” He looked at me thoughtfully. “You did well today, John. The Walking Man really might have killed you.”
“Yes,” I said. “He might have.”
“I wonder,” said Walker. “Would he really have been able to kill the new Authorities if he had been able to get to them? Or would his God’s power have failed him at the last moment, as it did with you?”
“We’ll never know now,” I said. “And I have to wonder just who was being tested here today?”
“All of us, probably,” said Walker. He paused for a moment, looking around the room at nothing in particular. “I enjoyed meeting your father again, during the Lilith War, even if only for a short while. Helped me to remember who he and I used to be, all the things we meant to do, before life got in the way . . . I don’t think he would have approved of the man I’ve become. But I know he was proud of you.”
He turned abruptly and walked away, heading for the buffet. I didn’t go after him. I had a lot to think about. The trouble with Walker . . . was that anything could be one of his schemes. He wasn’t above using even a truth like this to manipulate me for his own ends. Julien came over to join me.
“I’m pretty sure I know what that was about,” he said.
“Pretty sure you don’t,” I said.
“He wants you to take over his role in the Nightside. Not a bad idea, actually. I may not always have approved of the way you do things, but I’ve never doubted your heart is in the right place. But consider this, instead. What if I were to offer you a place in the new Authorities?”
“People are lining up today to offer me things I don’t want,” I said. “Thank you, Julien, but no. My job is to look out for the people the Authorities can’t or won’t help. To be there for people the system has failed. But I will...hang around. Work with you, when I can. Be your conscience, when necessary.”
Julien sighed. “You always have to do it your own way, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll talk to the others.”
“You do that,” I said. “Preferably when I’m a safe distance away.”
We shook hands, very solemnly, and he walked off again.
The door slammed open, and Suzie Shooter strode into the room. Everybody stopped what they were doing to look, holding themselves very still. Suzie glared at them all impartially, then dismissed them all with a sniff, to join me. Everyone else went back to their food and drink with a certain amount of relief, like a group of animals who’d just been joined at the watering hole by a well-known predator. Suzie nodded calmly to me, and her bandoliers of bullets clinked softly.
I’ve always liked the soft, creaking sounds her leathers make.
“You’ve missed all the excitement, Suzie,” I said. “Not like you.”
“I’ve been busy,” she said, in her usual cold, measured tones. “Looking after the abused children we rescued from Precious Memories. Making sure they got all the help they needed, arranging for them to get safely home again. Or seeing they had somewhere safe to go, if that wasn’t going to be possible. And then . . . I stayed on anyway. Just being with the children, comforting them. They wouldn’t let anyone else touch them, at first. They’d learned not to trust anyone. But... they could accept it, from me. I suppose we can always recognise our own kind.” She smiled, briefly. “I held them, and they held me. And I wonder... who was comforting who?”
“Suzie . . .”
“Hush,” she said. “Hush, John. My love.”
She put her arms around me and hugged me close. It was a careful, gentle hug, but unmistakably the real thing. For the first time since I’d known her, Suzie didn’t have to force herself to touch me. I held her back, carefully, gently, and her breathing in my ear was slow and easy and content.
Miracles do happen, in the Nightside.
Simon R. Green, Just Another Judgement Day
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