Forces from Beyond

  “So we don’t get to visit the Armoury?” said Chang. She pouted prettily. “Damn. I was looking forward to some serious showing off.”

  MacAbre ignored her, fixing her attention on Latimer. “Where were you thinking of visiting first?”

  “I thought I’d start with the Institute’s Secret Libraries,” said Latimer. “The cabal probably think they can keep me out, but they’re wrong.”

  Natasha Chang clapped her hands together delightedly. “Oh, I’ve always wanted to visit the Secret Libraries!” And then she stopped, as she took in the expression on MacAbre’s face. “What? What do you know that I don’t?”

  MacAbre looked steadily at Latimer. “You haven’t heard.”

  “Heard what?” said Latimer. “We have been rather out of the loop just recently.”

  “And just a bit distracted,” said JC.

  “Yes,” said MacAbre. “I heard about the Hound. A most impressive performance, Mr. Chance. It seems there really is more to you than meets the eye.”

  JC smiled, in spite of himself. Because Kim was concealed inside him and had been ever since they left the lockup. Because he didn’t trust Natasha Chang, or the Project, or its Head. Learning to hide the glow that normally surrounded him when he was joined with Kim was one of the first tricks he’d taught himself. Just as Latimer had learned to hide the glow from her eyes.

  “What about the Secret Libraries?” said Latimer. “What’s happened to them?”

  “They’re gone,” said MacAbre.

  “The cabal destroyed them?” said Latimer.

  “No,” said MacAbre. “They’re gone. You know the Project has agents inside the Institute, just as you have people working inside the Project . . .”

  “We do?” said JC.

  “Of course we do,” said Latimer. “How else can we be sure of what’s really going on?”

  “One of my people fairly high up in the cabal has just informed me that its leaders are currently panicking because they’ve lost all access to the Secret Libraries,” said MacAbre. “Getting their hands on the secret knowledge in those books was one of their top priorities, so they could use it to pay off old favours. But apparently none of the ways in work any longer. All entrance points have just . . . disappeared. Nothing left to show they were ever there. My psychics are saying they can’t find the Libraries anywhere on this plane, or in any of the adjoining ones. Even the ghost guard Tommy Atkins has disappeared.”

  The Ghost Finders looked at each other, shocked and shaken. Latimer looked especially grim.

  “The Libraries probably removed themselves,” she said finally. “Rather than risk being misused by the cabal.”

  “They can do that?” said JC.

  “Apparently,” said Latimer.

  “How is that even possible?” said Melody.

  “The Secret Libraries were founded by the Travelling Doctor,” said JC.

  “Oh . . .” said Melody.

  “Quite,” said JC.

  “I have to wonder . . .” said Latimer. “What other Institute resources are no longer available, because they don’t approve of the new regime. I think I’d better go straight to my old office.”

  Chang clapped her hands together again. “Oooh! I’ve always wanted to go there!”

  “We’re supposed to take a Project agent right into the heart of the Carnacki Institute?” said Melody. “Oh, this can only go well . . .”

  “What do you need from your office, Boss?” said JC.

  “Hush,” said Latimer. “Not in front of the allies.”

  MacAbre smiled. “The sooner you pick up what you need, the better. So, we will provide you with transportation. Thoroughly shielded, of course, so the Institute psychics won’t be able to see you coming.”

  “Thanks for the offer,” said Latimer, “but that won’t be necessary. I know a short cut.”

  She rose unhurriedly from her chair and walked around MacAbre’s desk to face the far wall. She produced a shapeless black blob from an inside pocket and rolled it around in her hands for a while, as though to wake it up. She slapped it against the wall, where it immediately flattened itself out to form a Door. JC realised his mouth was hanging open and shut it quickly. He’d never seen a portable Door in action before.

  MacAbre was on her feet, glaring at the new Door and pointing a shaking finger at it.

  “A dimensional Door? That is not supposed to be possible! Not inside Project Headquarters, and especially not inside my office! Security protocols are supposed to block all other-dimensional access!”

  “This particular portable Door is just a bit special,” said Latimer. “It was a present from the late Drood Armourer.”

  MacAbre shook her head speechlessly and sank back into her chair. With all the dignity she could muster.

  “Oh,” she said. “Him. Jack Drood really did get around, didn’t he?”

  JC fixed Latimer with an accusing gaze. “You’ve had an in with the Droods all this time, and you never told us? Were you and he . . . ?”

  “Certainly not,” Latimer said firmly. “We were just good allies. And only occasionally enemies. That’s Droods for you . . .” She looked steadily at JC. “It’s always a good idea to have an ace up your sleeve . . . I liked knowing I could never be trapped anywhere, as long as I had my own secret exit.”

  “And you never told anyone,” said Melody. “You didn’t tell the Institute; even before this cabal stuff started.”

  “Always keep your closest eye on your friends,” said Latimer. “You know where you are, with your enemies. My three predecessors as Head all died in their office, and none of them peacefully. From the first moment I accepted the position, I was determined not to follow in their footsteps.”

  “Even if that Door can take us straight to the Institute,” said JC, “how are we going to get into your office? I mean; even apart from the standard shields and protections, won’t the new Boss have people standing guard? Heavily armed standing guards? Hell, Allbright has probably had people tearing your office apart, looking for hidden treasures, ever since they heard about the Secret Libraries.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Latimer. “After I walked out of my office, certain prearranged protocols kicked into place. The moment Allbright leaves the office, the door will scramble its entrance codes and lock itself down. And given all the protections I’ve added, down the years, the cabal couldn’t break that door down with a nuclear battering ram. No; my office is still mine. I have no intention of handing it over to any new Head I haven’t personally approved.”

  “Did you leave something special there?” said Melody.

  “It’s more what I don’t want the cabal to have access to,” said Latimer. “But there are a few things lying around that might prove useful where we’re going. Not everything in my office is what it appears to be.”

  “Department of no surprise at all,” said Happy.

  They all looked at him. He’d been quiet so long, they’d forgotten he was there.

  “Welcome back, Mr. Palmer,” said Latimer. “Are you ready to be a useful member of the team again?”

  “Possibly,” said Happy. “I’m still wondering how that Door is going to break through Buckingham-Palace-level security shields.”

  “It’s a Drood Door,” said JC.

  “Ah,” said Happy. “Sorry. I must have been away when that bombshell was dropped.”

  “There is one item in particular,” said Latimer, “that I want to have with me if we’re going face-to-face with the Flesh Undying.”

  “What might that be?” said MacAbre.

  “Just a little something,” said Latimer, “to end the world, if necessary.”

  SEVEN

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  WHO’S THAT KNOCKING AT MY DOOR?

  JC followed Catherine Latimer through the new Do
or she’d made into what used to be her old office; and it didn’t feel like going home at all. Everyone else hurried after him, almost treading on his heels. None of them wanted to be left behind, in the Headquarters of Evil Inc. Latimer waited till they were all safely gathered in, then turned and shut the Door firmly in the face of Vivienne MacAbre.

  “Sorry, Grand-daughter. There are limits.”

  JC couldn’t help but notice the obvious delight Natasha Chang took in the outrage on MacAbre’s face before the Door closed on it. Perhaps because if there were useful secrets and special advantages to be found in the Boss’s office, Chang wanted them all to herself. Latimer sank her hand into the Door, and ripped it right off the wall. It quickly shrank back into a shapeless black blob that barely filled her hand, and Latimer tucked it safely away in her jacket pocket. JC was quietly very impressed. No-one knows how the Droods do the things they do or make the things they make; and it isn’t considered wise to ask. Because the answers would only upset you. Latimer looked carefully at the wall where the Door had been, then nodded briefly, satisfied.

  “Just making sure we won’t be followed. Drood biotech is supposed to be unbreakable, but . . .”

  “Biotech?” said Melody. “That stuff is alive?”

  “Never ask Droods personal questions,” said Latimer. She looked steadily at Chang. “No doubt you’ll make a full report on everything that happens here when you see MacAbre again. But I would strongly suggest you be . . . circumspect when it comes to Drood things.”

  “Of course,” said Chang. “The Project doesn’t want a war with that family. Not yet, anyway.”

  Rather than think about the implications of that, JC looked around the Boss’s office. After so much had happened, he expected it to look somehow different; but nothing had changed. The same Hepplewhite desk and chair, the same books and files on the shelves, the same air of long-established authority. Latimer’s old souvenirs were still set out on display, no doubt soon to be replaced by Allbright’s. Assuming she had any. It took JC a moment to realise one particular item was missing.

  “Boss?” he said. “What’s happened to the Haunted Glove?”

  “I found a use for it,” said Latimer, in a tone that strongly discouraged further questions on the subject. “At least the new order hasn’t got around to ransacking my things, just yet. All my records are still in place, undisturbed . . . I really should destroy them rather than risk such dangerous knowledge falling into the cabal’s hands; but I don’t think I will.”

  “Why not?” said Melody.

  “Because I have every intention of making this my office again, someday,” said Latimer.

  “It would be a brave man who bet against you,” JC said solemnly. And then he stopped and looked at her thoughtfully. “Were you joking, back in MacAbre’s office? When you said you wanted to pick up something here that could destroy the world?”

  “I am of course famous for my whimsical sense of humour,” said Latimer.

  “No you’re bloody not,” said Happy.

  Latimer looked down her nose at him. “My, we are feeling brave today, aren’t we, Mr. Palmer?”

  “I blame the drugs,” said Happy.

  “You wouldn’t actually destroy the entire world, would you?” said Melody.

  “I might,” said Latimer. “If it looked like the Flesh Undying was winning and was ready to destroy this world during its escape . . . I would destroy the world first. And take the creature down with us. I have always been a very sore loser.”

  She went walking around her office, picking things up and stuffing them into a large black Gladstone bag she retrieved from under her desk. As far as JC could tell, none of the pieces she chose were particularly important or powerful. If he hadn’t known better, he would have said she was just taking things at random. And then he noticed Chang paying very close attention to everything Latimer did; and it occurred to him that quite possibly the Boss only wanted a few things and was hiding them among the others . . .

  Happy looked dubiously at the battered Gladstone bag. “That is a seriously old piece of luggage, Boss. How old are you, really?”

  “Never ask a lady her age,” said Latimer. She looked quickly around to make sure she had everything she wanted, then closed the Gladstone bag with a decisive snap. “This was a present from my grandfather.”

  “Who?” said Chang, her ears pricking up immediately.

  “Ask my grand-daughter,” said Latimer. She put the bag on the desk, sank down into what used to be her chair, and seemed lost in thought.

  JC waited for her to say something, and when it became clear that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, he moved slowly around the office, just looking at things. Remembering a time when he used to think this one of the scariest places in the world. When he would get chills and shakes just sitting in the waiting room, preparing to meet the Boss and face her disapproval. It had come as something of a shock to find out she was almost human, after all.

  “Some of these pieces look pretty valuable, Boss,” he said finally. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like us all to grab a handful? Or even an armful? We could shift a lot of this, between us.”

  “No,” said Latimer. “I’m only taking what matters. The rest is just . . . stuff. And you can always get more stuff. I’ve never been the kind for sentimental attachments. Live long enough, and you realise it’s memories that matter, not possessions. Put that down, Chang.”

  They all turned to look at Natasha Chang, who froze where she was, caught in the act of slipping something into her pocket. She quickly put it back.

  “I was just looking! It’s only a small carved stone head, with remarkably ugly features. What’s so special about it?”

  “It’s not something you should be touching,” said Latimer. “If you plan on surviving the next few moments. That is the Stone Head of Whitby. It corrupts souls.”

  Chang sniffed loudly. “Like I need the competition.”

  Latimer considered the Gladstone bag sitting patiently before her on the desk and nodded slowly. “That’s it. I’m finished here.”

  But she didn’t move from where she was. Just leaned back in her chair and looked around her office, her face unreadable.

  “Good memories, Boss?” JC said tentatively. He wasn’t comfortable with seeing her so human, so vulnerable.

  “Good and bad,” said Latimer. “All the years I sat behind this desk, trapped by responsibilities and obligations. You tell yourself you’re doing a hard and difficult job because it matters. Because you’re making a difference. But the world goes on and the problems never end and suddenly you look up . . . and find you’re old. And not sure anything you’ve ever done has made a blind bit of difference.”

  “Things would have been a lot worse if you hadn’t been here,” said Melody.

  “Perhaps,” said Latimer. She didn’t sound convinced.

  “Everyone at the Crowley Project has their conscience removed when they join,” Chang said breezily. “It makes life so much simpler.”

  “Simpler isn’t always better,” said Latimer.

  “I will say this,” said Chang. “You scared the Project more than anyone else ever has.”

  “Thank you,” said Latimer.

  Happy’s head came up suddenly, and he looked quickly about him. “Pay attention, people! Someone knows we’re here.”

  They all looked quickly round the office. The room seemed perfectly calm and quiet. Happy turned slowly to look at the closed door. His face was clear and his eyes were sharp; but he looked at the door as though the Devil himself was on the other side, looking back. Melody moved in close beside him, not saying anything, not wanting to distract him, just support him with her presence.

  “Allbright must have installed some new security systems,” said Latimer. “Good for her. First thing she’s done that I approve of.”

  “Nice idea, m
aybe,” said JC. “Really bad timing for us. Who’s out there, Happy? Can you tell?”

  Happy moved slowly forward and didn’t stop until he was right in front of the door, so close his face was almost touching it. His gaze was fierce and intent, as though he could look through the solid material.

  “They’re standing right outside,” he said quietly. “Listening to us. And smiling. Because they’re planning on killing every single person in this room and enjoying it.”

  “Well that’s just rude,” said Chang. “What if I was willing to surrender?”

  “Are you?” said Latimer.

  “Of course not!” said Chang. “But that’s not the point! The Institute are supposed to be the good guys. You’re supposed to offer your enemies the chance to surrender and avoid bloodshed, not just wipe everyone out! Like the Project would . . .”

  “Things have changed here,” said Latimer.

  JC moved forward, to stand behind Happy. “Who is it, Happy? Who’s out there?”

  The telepath frowned, concentrating. And then his face cleared suddenly, into a look of sheer astonishment. “Oh, JC, you’re really not going to believe this . . .”

  And that was when Kim stepped out of JC, revealing her presence. Everyone jumped, just a little.

  “I knew it!” said Chang, stabbing an accusing finger at Kim and JC. “I knew you were hiding inside him all this time!”

  “No you didn’t,” said Kim. She looked steadily at JC, holding his gaze with hers. “It’s time for me to tell the truth, JC. About where I was and what I was doing, all the time I was away, working for the Boss.”

  JC looked at Happy, still staring in amazement at the door, then back at Kim.

  “Now? Really?”

  “Yes,” said Kim. “You need to know this. You all do. When I occupied Patterson’s body, outside Chimera House, I caught a brief glimpse of who had been in his head before me, working his body. Using it against us. Remember, JC, the voice said you’d know it if it said its name. That we all would.”