A Hard Day's Knight (21 page)

I knew this place. I’d been in this building before. They called it the Fortress, the one place you could go in the Nightside where no-one would bother you. A place of sanctuary and protection. Originally established by a self-help group of alien abductees, who decided to get together and set up a safe place, with constant electronic surveillance and a whole lot of guns. And a complete willingness to shoot the shit out of anyone or anything that tried to take them anywhere against their will. Let the aliens come again and see what was waiting for them. Over the years, the Fortress had become a refuge for anyone who needed it. Good place for Artur to run to and hide. And a good place for Stark to do business ...

The rogue knight stood tall and proud in a pokey little room, facing a man who had to be Artur. The room had only the most basic furnishings and few comforts; the Fortress runs on a very strict budget. They prefer to spend what money they have in constantly upgrading the surveillance systems and buying bigger guns. It isn’t paranoia if they really are out to get you and shove probes up your behind.

Not really the proper setting for a King in exile, as Artur’s expression seemed to confirm. He was tall and elegant, with a pale, aristocratic face that would have been more than usually handsome, if it hadn’t been for the cold, dark eyes and thin-lipped mouth. He held himself like a King, like a man used to giving orders and having them obeyed; but he also looked dangerous in his own right. Like a man who could do his own killing, as and when he felt it necessary. He was wearing a suit of some dark armour; but I couldn’t See it clearly. Must have its own built-in protections.

Stark looked suspiciously at the surveillance camera set ostentatiously into the room’s ceiling. “Any way of turning that thing off?”

“Apparently not,” said Artur. His voice was smooth and cultured, with an undertone of viciousness. “It’s for my own protection, after all. There’s always someone watching. Anyone tries to attack me, the whole Fortress will turn out to defend me. That is why I came here, after all.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Stark. He sounded surprisingly tired for someone so close to getting everything he wanted. “They won’t recognise me and probably wouldn’t care much if they did. I’ve committed no sins in the Nightside.”

“I never got the chance, unfortunately,” said Artur. “I’d barely joined up with Queen Helena and her Exiles, when Walker sent his assassin to kill us all. A very scary young lady; I was lucky to avoid her. I’ve been hiding out here ever since. If Walker finds me ...”

“Walker’s dead,” said Stark. “You’re safe from him and his people ...”

“They say there’s a new Walker,” said Artur. “A certain John Taylor. Yes, I thought you’d know that name. And the assassin who wiped out all my fellow Exiles is his woman and partner. So pardon me if I feel a little ... unsafe, even here. Let us make our deal, so we can both get what we want.”

“You want Excalibur,” said Stark. “I have it. And it’s yours, in return for Merlin’s raising my wife from the dead.”

“I have to have the sword first,” Artur said patiently. “Merlin won’t do a damned thing for you of his own free will. But owning Excalibur will give me control over Merlin; then I will make him restore your dead wife to you.”

“Is Excalibur really that powerful?” said Stark. “I mean, it’s just a magic sword.”

Artur laughed softly, unpleasantly. “You know better than that, Stark. You’ve been carrying it long enough to know better. It’s made its mark on you. I can see it.”

“I am my own man,” Stark said stubbornly. “No sword tells me what to do.”

“Excalibur is far more than just a sword. You have no idea what it really is. To own the sword, to have control over Excalibur, is to have control over the natural world and everything that lives in it. Merlin may be the most powerful sorcerer my world has ever known, he may even be the anti-Christ he claims to be; but all of that is nothing in the face of Excalibur. Merlin is still a living man, and part of the natural order of things, and Excalibur rules the living.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” said Stark.

“I wish I had your sword,” said Artur.

“You will,” said Stark.

I shut down my gift and dropped back into my body, in the bar. I looked at Suzie.

“The Fortress,” she said. “Could have been worse.”

“We have to get there fast,” I said. “Stark’s ready to make the deal.”

“The Fortress is where we first met, after you came back from London Proper,” said Suzie. “And I was so glad to see you again.”

“You pick the strangest moments to get sentimental,” I said. “But it’s time we were moving. Allow me to show you my new toy.”

I took out Walker’s old gold pocket-watch, opened it, and the Portable Timeslip within whisked us away.

The Timeslip dropped us off right outside the Fortress. Suzie shook her head a little and gave me a hard look but said nothing. She’s never been big on surprises. I put the watch away and looked up and down the street; but there was no-one else about. Most people steer clear of the Fortress, to avoid being shot at. The Fortress is always on the lookout for Men in Black. Suzie and I strolled casually down the street as though we just happened to be out for a walk. The Fortress is a massive square building, with all its doors and windows protected by reinforced steel shutters. Heavy-duty gun emplacements all but crowded each other off the flat roof, pointing up as well as down, and the exterior of the building positively bristled with all the very latest surveillance gear. The word FORTRESS had been painted in large letters all across the front of the building, over and over, in every language known to man and a few only spoken in the Nightside. For all those who have good reason to feel threatened, the Fortress is the last safe place in the Nightside.

These days it stands between two new franchises of utter respectability. On the one side stands The Devil Has Designs, where a satanic mechanic will implant black-magic circuitry into your brain, so you can make better contact with the infernal realms. Some people will believe
anything
... And on the other side of the Fortress lies Bonsai Dinosaurs. Genetically modified, miniaturised dinosaurs for people who will
buy
anything. Their window display consisted of a playpen full of miniature mammoths, chirping cheerfully together, and a large metal cage full of one-foot-high
Tyrannosaurus rex
, shoving and snapping at each other like vicious puppies. Suzie bent over and tapped on the window to get their attention, making
ooh
and
aww
noises.

“We are not getting a pet,” I said firmly. “You know very well you’d never walk it, and I’d end up having to look after it. Besides, you never know how big they’d be when they grow up.”

We moved over to stand before the heavily reinforced steel door that was the only entrance to the Fortress. It was, as always, quite definitely shut. You couldn’t blast through that door with a bazooka, and people have tried. Cameras set all round the door whirred loudly as they turned to focus on Suzie and me. I stepped forward and smiled pleasantly into the main security camera.

“Hi!” I said cheerfully. “You know who we are, and you know what we’ll do if you don’t open up. We are not here to cause trouble, for once; we only want to talk to someone. So be a good chap and let us in before Suzie starts feeling unappreciated and does something unfortunate.”

There was a slight pause, then there was the sound of many locks unlocking and many bolts sliding back. The door swung open before us, and I walked in like I owned the place, Suzie strolling casually along beside me. She hadn’t even drawn her shotgun, which I thought showed considerable restraint. The comfortably appointed lobby was entirely deserted, with only a few overturned chairs to suggest that certain people had vacated the area in a hurry. A single desk clerk stood pale and trembling behind the reception desk.

“Oh God,” he said, staring in horrid fascination at Suzie. “Not you again. The last time you were here, you shot up half the building.”

“I get that a lot,” said Suzie.

“Only because it’s true,” I said. “Last time I was here, you had half the security staff pinned down behind a barricade.”

“That was just business. They shouldn’t take these things personally. I would have been ever so much more destructive if it had been personal.”

“Somehow, knowing that doesn’t help,” said the desk clerk. “I was on duty the last time you were here, and I’m still on pills.”

“We’re here looking for King Artur of Sinister Albion,” I said. “ Tell us what room he’s in, and we’ll go away and stop bothering you. Won’t that be nice?”

“Room 1408,” the clerk said immediately. “Never liked the man. Trouble-maker. Knew it the minute I laid eyes on him. But you must realise ... the Fortress won’t let you walk in and take him. He’s entitled to protection even if he is an aristocratic little turd who never tips. You kick his door in and try to haul him away, and everyone in the place will come running with really big guns in their hands.”

“Let them come,” said Suzie. She smiled, and the desk clerk winced.

“All right,” he said. “That’s it. I am going to go and hide in the toilets until it’s all over.”

We took the elevator to the fourteenth floor. It played the Carpenters’ greatest hits at us until Suzie blew the speakers out. The doors finally opened to reveal an empty floor stretching away before us. No-one there, nothing moving, except for maybe twenty or thirty security cameras, all whirring loudly as they turned to focus on us. I gave them a cheerful wave. Every door in the corridor was solid steel and firmly shut. I’d been half expecting a heavily armed welcoming committee, but for the moment it seemed everyone was waiting for someone else to make the first move. I looked at Suzie.

“Let’s get this done before someone grows a pair and starts the charge. We don’t want a confrontation.”

“You speak for yourself,” said Suzie. “I love a good confrontation.”

“Can’t take you anywhere,” I said. “Come on. Help me look for 1408. Like it would kill them to put up signs ...”

We finally found 1408 right at the end of the corridor, next to the ice machine. Suzie and I eased silently into position outside the door and listened carefully. I could hear voices inside: not quite raised in anger but definitely getting there. I gestured to Suzie, then ducked quickly back out of the way. Suzie kicked the door in with practised violence, and in a moment we were both inside the room, Suzie covering Jerusalem Stark and King Artur with her shotgun. Even though they were both wearing full plate armour, they stood very still. They really shouldn’t have taken their helmets off so they could shout at each other better.

I shut the door behind me. It wouldn’t stay shut after what Suzie had done to it, so I leaned back against it. I smiled easily at Stark and Artur. They didn’t smile back.

“Well?” I said. “Isn’t this nice? Old friends bumping into each other again. You ran away from Castle Inconnu, Stark, just as we were getting to know each other. Oh, this is my better half, Shotgun Suzie, also known as Oh Just Shoot Yourself in the Head and Get It Over With, It’ll Probably Hurt Less.”

“Hi,” said Suzie.

“You may have a shotgun,” Stark said finally. “But I have Excalibur.”

“Bet my weapon fires more bullets,” said Suzie. “You even try and draw that sword, and what’s left of your head will be dripping down that wall behind you.”

“Oh, I like her,” said Artur. “She’s got spunk.”

Suzie looked at me.

“Old-fashioned slang, for someone with guts, courage, knows their own mind.”

“Ah. I thought I must have misunderstood,” said Suzie. “Now shut up, King, or I’ll blow your entitlements off.”

“So delightfully vicious! Nice tits, too.”

“Shut up, Artur,” I said. I gave Stark my full attention. “You have the sword, yes. But have you tried actually drawing Excalibur yet? No, didn’t think you had. Now you bear the sword, you can hear it, feel its influence. You draw Excalibur, and it will force you to do the right thing.”

“I am doing the right thing,” said Stark.

“You’re not worthy to bear Excalibur, and you know it,” I said.

“Neither are you,” said Stark. “I know all about you, John Taylor. It’s a wonder touching the hilt didn’t burn your hand right off after all the things you’ve done. I could still control the sword long enough to kill you.”

“Try,” suggested Suzie.

“Don’t think you intimidate me,” said Stark. “I have fought barrow trolls and dire wolves, gone to war against dark armies and foul invasions.”

“They’re not here,” said Suzie. “I am.”

“I would risk anything, for love,” said Stark.

“Let’s try talking first,” I said. “To see what happens.”

“Oh, do let’s,” said Artur. “I’d really rather not die at the hands of that attractively appalling woman if I don’t have to. I have so many plans and ambitions, so many enemies to terrorise and slaughter when I return home in triumph. Sir Jerusalem, you seem to know these people. Would you be so kind as to introduce us?”

“The man is John Taylor, thug for hire. She is Suzie Shooter, assassin and bounty-hunter. You can’t trust either of them.”

“How very unkind,” I murmured. “I am the new Walker of the Nightside, given charge of keeping the lid on things and keeping situations from getting out of control. Suzie is in charge of whatever brutality and retribution I deem necessary.”

“I thought I detected a hint of bias in Stark’s voice,” said Artur. He looked thoughtfully at Suzie. “So you’re the one who executed my fellow Exiles. And the reason why I’ve been forced to hide out in this dreadfully down-market accommodation.”

“It was only a job,” said Suzie.

“Oh, don’t think I necessarily disagree, dear lady. They were a most unpleasant assortment, for all their airs and graces. Did they by any chance suffer horribly at your hands before you killed them? Do say yes and warm the very cockles of my heart.”

Suzie glanced at me. “Is he flirting with me?”

“In his own horrible way, quite possibly. Leave the dangerous lady alone, Artur; she’s with me.”