Daemons Are Forever
“How does it work?” I said, because you have to say something.
“Like you’d understand, even if I could explain it,” said Janissary Jane, with some of her old force in her voice. “I don’t need to know how weapons work. I’m a mercenary, not a mechanic. But I’m told it’s a largely conceptual weapon. What we’ve got here is a hyperspatial key, activating the real weapon, which is hidden away in some other dimensional fold, just waiting to be unleashed. When pressed, the button on the box gives the weapon the target coordinates and . . . Boom! There you have it. Or rather, there you suddenly don’t. One less universe to trouble the gaze of God. The Deplorable End, for everyone and everything.”
“But, basically, it’s just an untested prototype,” I said carefully. “So there is a small but nonetheless definite chance that it might not, actually, work? As such?”
“It’s a last resort,” Janissary Jane said tiredly. “When you’ve tried absolutely everything, and the Hungry Gods are coming through to eat all there is that lives . . . then the Deplorable End is your last chance for revenge. A way to take the bastards down with you, and to make sure no other universes will have to face the horrors we did.”
Her eyes fluttered closed as exhaustion finally took her. I gingerly took the gleaming metal box from her hand and had her taken away to the infirmary to get some rest. By the time she woke up, I hoped, it would all be over, one way or another. Though, if things went really bad, it might be a mercy if she never woke up . . .
I held the end of the world on my palm. It hardly weighed a thing. The Armourer peered closely at it, but didn’t attempt to touch it.
“I wonder who made it?” he said, almost wistfully.
“Armourer!” said the Matriarch, and the sharp authority in her voice snapped his head around immediately. He moved quickly over to join her and she fixed him with a cold, implacable stare. “Armourer, I hereby authorise you to open the Armageddon Codex. We have need of the forbidden weapons. Bring out Sunwrack, the Time Hammer, the Juggernaut Jumpsuit, and Winter’s Sorrow, and ready them for use.”
“No!” I said immediately, and my voice cracked so sharply across the Matriarch’s that everyone in the War Room stopped what they were doing to look at both of us. I went over to join the Armourer and the Matriarch, carefully not hurrying. I stared directly into Martha’s cold eyes, not flinching one little bit. “Not yet, Grandmother. We can’t use any of the forbidden weapons against the Invaders until they’re actually in our reality, and a clash of such powerful forces would almost certainly tear our world apart. With no guarantee the weapons would destroy the Hungry Gods anyway. We save the Armageddon Codex for when all our plans have failed. And I’m not out of plans yet.”
“The Deplorable End would destroy the whole universe, not just this world,” said the Matriarch, not giving an inch.
“Trust me,” I said. “I have no intention of blowing up the universe. I’ve got a much better idea. If I should fail in my mission . . . then it’s up to you. But for now, trust me . . . Grandmother.”
“Well,” said the Matriarch after a moment. “Just this once, Edwin.”
She actually managed a small smile for me, and I smiled back. And then, as if things weren’t already complicated enough, the ghost of Jacob Drood and the living Jay Drood decided it was time they made their appearance. All the time I was talking with the Matriarch I had the feeling someone was watching me. I finally looked around, and my gaze fell on the Merlin Glass, currently showing a reflection of the War Room. But there was something wrong with the image in the mirror, and when I strode over to study it, I realised there were too many people in it. In the mirror’s reflection, Jacob and Jay were standing behind me, grinning at me over my shoulder. I looked behind me, but there was no one there. I looked back at the mirror, and there they were. It gave me the shivers. Especially when the two of them shouldered past my reflected image, strode forward, and stepped out of the mirror into the War Room. I had to backpedal fast to get out of their way. People jumped and yelled and even screamed, and Jacob and Jay grinned and sniggered and elbowed each other as though they’d just pulled off a particularly clever and childish trick. I had to take a deep breath just to get my heartbeat back to something like normal.
Jacob was now wearing an old-fashioned bottle green engine driver’s uniform, complete with peaked cap, with the front of his silver-buttoned jacket hanging open to reveal a T-shirt bearing the legend Engineers Get You There Quicker. He looked very sharp and focused, with hardly any blue-gray trails of ectoplasm following him when he moved. Jay was back in the full finery of his original period and looked almost as excited as his future ghostly self, but there was something in his eyes . . . I folded my arms across my chest and gave them both my best hard stare.
“Nice trick,” I said coldly. “I’ll bear it in mind for if we ever need to give someone a coronary. I didn’t know you could do that, Jacob.”
“You’d be surprised at what you can do when you’re dead, boy,” Jacob said cheerfully. “It’s really very liberating.”
Jay looked severely at his future self. “I’m boasting again and I do wish I wouldn’t. We have a plan to save the day, Eddie.”
“Of course,” I said. “Doesn’t everyone? Does your plan by any chance involve blowing up the whole damned universe?”
“Well, no,” said Jay. “Not as such.”
“I like it already,” I said.
“Oh, you tell him, Jacob,” said Jay. “You know you’re dying to, and you’ll only butt in and interrupt if I try. I apparently become very grumpy after my death.”
“Try hanging around this family for centuries,” Jacob growled. “They could make a pope swear and throw things. Listen, Eddie, we have a way to stop the Invaders in their tracks. We’re going to use the Time Train.”
“You’ve only just started describing your plan, and already I hate it,” I said. “Going back in time to undo present events never works. Never never never. It always ends up causing more problems than it solves.”
“Do calm down, Eddie,” said Jay. “Your face has gone a very funny colour, and it really can’t be good for you.”
“We are not going back in time to stop the Invaders before they start their plans against us,” Jacob said patiently. “I know enough about time travel to know that wouldn’t work. I watch television. No, we’ve got a much better idea. We’re going to use the Time Train to sneak up on the Invaders’ home dimension, and attack them from the one direction they won’t be expecting: the past!”
“Run that by me again,” I said. “I think I fell off at the corner.”
“It’s really very simple,” said Jay.
“No it isn’t,” I said. “No explanation that begins that way ever is.”
“Look,” said Jacob, prodding me firmly in the chest with a surprisingly solid finger. “The Invaders come from a higher dimension than ours, right? That means to them, time is just another direction to move in. We can use the Time Train to access their dimension and attack their homeworld from the past! They’ll never see us coming!”
“They’re bound to have hidden their homeworld,” said Jay, “inside some pocket universe or dimensional fold, confident no lesser beings from some lower dimension could ever find it. But Jacob is dead, while I’m still alive, and together we can see things no one else can.”
“Only we could hope to survive the stresses of a time journey like this,” said Jacob. “Because we’re the same person in two different states of existence. It has to be us, Eddie. Tony’s already reworked the engine so it will soak up time energies as it travels. So that when we finally get to the Invaders’ homeworld . . . we can drive the Train into it at full speed and release all the time energies at once, blowing the whole nasty place apart like a firecracker in a rotten apple!”
“End of homeworld, end of Invaders!” said Jay.
“An interesting plan,” I had to admit. “Even if my mind does seem to just slide off the edges when I try to grasp it. But are yo
u sure you can find the Hungry Gods’ homeworld?”
“You can’t hide things from the dead,” said Jacob. He looked at Molly and then at me, and didn’t say anything.
“You have to let us try,” said Jay. “This . . . is how I die. Jacob finally remembered. I don’t mind, really. It’s . . . a good death. Spitting in the face of the enemy, saving the innocent; for the family. A Drood’s death.”
“And this is what I’ve waited for, all this time,” said Jacob. “This is my end, at last. None of you here could hope to do this. Only me, and me. Jay dies striking down our enemies, and somehow ends up here, in the past, as the family ghost, waiting to do it again. And I . . . finally get to go on, to whatever’s next. I’m quite looking forward to it. I’ve grown awfully thin, down the centuries, and I’m really very tired.”
“Go for it,” I said. “The Time Train is all yours.”
“You still have to keep the Invaders occupied, distracted, so they won’t think to look for us coming,” said Jay.
“I think we can do that,” I said.
Martha surprised me then, by stepping forward to face Jacob. “Go with God, Jacob,” she said. “I shall miss you.”
He grinned crookedly. “Then you should aim better. Good-bye, great-great-great-great-granddaughter.” He looked around the War Room. “You are all my children, my descendents, and I have always been so very proud of you.”
He and Jay turned as one and strode back into the reflection in the Merlin Glass. For a moment they moved eerily among our watching reflections, and then the image in the Glass changed to show them walking through the old hangar at the back of the Hall. They climbed up into the gleaming black cab of the Time Engine and waved good-bye to Tony, who waved back with tears in his eyes, knowing he’d never see his beloved Ivor again. Jacob manipulated the controls with professional skill, while Jay shovelled crystallised tachyons into the boiler with fierce nervous energy. He was going to his death, and he knew it; and knowing he was coming back as Jacob probably didn’t help.
Ivor lurched suddenly forward. The time pressure peaked and Jacob put the hammer down. The Time Train accelerated forward, disappearing at speed in a direction no human eye could follow; and just like that, they were gone.
I waited for a moment, looking around me, but nothing changed. So I just got on with my own plan. What else could I do?
Molly and Subway Sue took my small group off to a relatively quiet corner of the War Room so they could explain the Damnation Way to us. There was a certain amount of disagreement between them over details, the two of them almost coming to blows over certain obscure references and sources until I separated them, but they seemed firm enough on the main outline. They started at the beginning, which turned out not to be the Damnation Way itself.
“You see,” said Subway Sue, “in order to understand that, you have to understand the Rainbow Run.”
“The Rainbow Run is an expression, or manifestation, of the old Wild Magic,” said Molly. “A race against time and destiny, to save the day. It’s not given to many to attempt it, and even fewer survive to see it through successfully to the end. I don’t know anyone who’s even tried since Arthurian times. But it is said . . . that anyone who can run the hidden way, follow the Rainbow to its End, will find their heart’s desire. If they’re strong enough, in heart and soul and will.”
“It’s not how fast you run,” said Subway Sue. “It’s how badly you need it. How much you’re prepared to endure . . . to run down the Rainbow is not given to everyone. And there are those who say that what you find at the Rainbow’s End isn’t necessarily what you want, but what you need.”
“The Rainbow Run is an ancient ritual,” said Molly. “Older than history.”
“Older than the family?” I said.
“Older than humanity, probably,” said Molly. “It’s . . . an archetype, a primal thing, spanning realities. A thing of dreams and glories, grail quests and honour satisfied. One last chance to defy the Dark, and snatch victory for the Light. Or so they say.”
“Who created it?” I said.
“Who knows?” said Subway Sue. “This is the old Wild Magic we’re talking about. Some things . . . just are. Because they’re needed.”
“So . . . why can’t we use the Rainbow Run, instead of the Damnation Way?” I said.
Molly and Subway Sue looked at each other. “Because we don’t know how to find it,” Molly said quietly. “We’re not . . . good enough, pure enough.”
“The Damnation Way is the underside, the dark reflection of the Rainbow Run,” said Subway Sue. “The other face of some unimaginable coin.”
“Look,” said Molly. “Forget the spiritual crap, and keep it simple. The Many-Angled Ones, the Hungry Gods, come from a higher dimension, right? Well, if there are higher dimensions than ours, then it stands to reason that there must also be lesser, lower dimensions. The broken universes, where natural laws never really got their act together. The Damnation Way can take us through one such world. And you don’t run there, you walk. For as long as it takes. This isn’t about speed, it’s about stamina.”
I could feel myself scowling. No one else was saying anything. They were all looking at me. “We really don’t have a lot of time,” I said. “Truman’s tower is pretty much complete, and probably activating even as we speak. The Hungry Gods could come through any time now.”
“And you have no other means of getting into Truman’s base,” said Molly. “His defences will keep out anything, except the Damnation Way.”
“Time means something different in the lower universes,” said Subway Sue. “Theoretically, we should emerge inside Truman’s base at exactly the same moment as we leave here.”
I could feel my scowl deepening. “Yeah, that worked out really well with the Time Train . . .”
“That was science; this is magic,” Molly said quickly. “The Damnation Way follows ancient laws, written into the bedrock of reality itself.”
“Oh . . . what the hell,” I said. I had to stop scowling because it was making my head hurt. “We have to get to the tower, and I don’t see any other way.” I looked at the others: Mr. Stab and the Sarjeant-at-Arms and Giles Deathstalker. “Given the . . . uncertain nature of what we’re about to do, I don’t feel right about ordering you to join me. I wouldn’t be going if I didn’t think I had to. So this is strictly volunteers only. Anyone wants to say no, or even Hell no, I quite understand.” I looked from face to face, but they all stared calmly back. Giles looked ready for action, as always, the Sarjeant looked ready for a fight, and Mr. Stab . . . looked like he always looked.
“Let’s go,” I said. “Time to save the world, again.”
To enter the Damnation Way, it turned out, you have to go down. All the way down. Molly and Subway Sue worked old magic together, swaying and chanting in tongues inside a chalked circle. The Armourer watched closely, fascinated. Giles Deathstalker watched with a curled lip, as though he didn’t really expect anything to happen. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but even so I was startled when a standard, very ordinary elevator rose calmly up out of the floor in front of Sue and Molly. The thing pinged importantly to announce its arrival, and then the doors slid open, revealing a standard elevator interior. I walked around the door a few times. From the front; a waiting elevator. From the back; it wasn’t there. Giles walked around it a few times too, muttering about subspace engineering and pocket dimensions. Whatever kept him happy.
Martha glared at the elevator that had just appeared inside her nice normal War Room. “Why didn’t that . . . thing set off any of our alarms?”
“Because it’s not really here, as such,” said Molly. “I mean, it’s a magical construct that just looks like an elevator because that’s a concept our limited minds can cope with.”
“Your senses aren’t equipped to recognise things like this,” said Subway Sue. “So they show you . . . the nearest equivalent.”
“Right!” said Molly. “This is really old magic, remember, Wild Magic, f
rom when we all lived in the forest.”
“I still don’t see why it has to look like an elevator,” I said, just a bit sulkily, feeling way out of my depth.
“Group mind consensus,” Molly said briskly. “Be grateful. It could have come as an escalator. Hate those things.”
I sighed, deeply and meaningfully, and stepped cautiously inside the elevator. The steel floor was firm under my feet, and the mirrored walls showed I was scowling again. I tried hard not to, in case it upset the troops. They followed me in, with various amounts of confidence, and when we were all in we filled the damn thing from wall to wall, with hardly any room to move, unless one of us breathed in to make a bit of space. Molly made a point of pressing her breasts against my chest, for which I was quietly grateful. The doors closed unhurriedly, and without any instruction or warning, the elevator started down.
We seemed to descend for a long, long time. I could feel the movement, sense it in my bones and in my water, even though the elevator made no sound and had no controls or indicators. It grew slowly hotter inside the elevator, until we were all sweating profusely and trying unsuccessfully to back away from each other. And then the heat just vanished, gone in a moment, and the temperature in the confined space plummeted, growing colder and colder, until our breath steamed on the air and we all huddled together to share our body warmth. And then that was gone too, and I felt neither hot nor cold, as though we had left such things behind us.