The Demi-Monde: Winter (49 page)

‘Fuck.’

‘I fink there’s more bad news as well, Vanka. I sees that black
item Louverture bin led away for questioning by the SS.’

‘There goes our chance of smuggling you out of the ForthRight, Ella. Our best bet is to stay hidden until the SS get tired of looking for us.’

‘I can’t do that, Vanka, I’ve got to save Norma Williams,’ said Ella quietly. ‘When Crowley slapped me’ – and here she brought her fingers up to the four red welts that decorated her cheek – ‘I read him … not clearly, his mind is too well shielded for that, but well enough. Norma Williams is alive and Crowley has her held in a place called Wewelsburg Castle.’

‘Then the cow might as well be dead,’ snorted Vanka. ‘Lots of people go into Wewelsburg Castle but I’ve never heard of any of them coming out. It’s the headquarters of the SS. We’ll never be able to rescue her from there.’

‘I know,’ admitted Ella. ‘But the other thing I learned from Crowley is that he’s having her moved soon. They’re taking her somewhere to use her in the Rite of Transference. I couldn’t read where – Crowley had blocked that piece of information – but I know she’ll be moved on the last day of Winter. That’ll be our chance to rescue her.’

‘First you’ve got to find where Crowley’s taking her.’

‘To do that I need to get into a Blood Bank again. Once I’m there I’ll be able to find out about Norma and I’ll be able to help the people of Warsaw. Working the IM Manual has given me an idea as to how I can have the Varsovians escape Heydrich.’

‘What? Have you gone crackers? You won’t be able to get within half a mile of a Blood Bank without the Checkya spotting you.’

‘Which is the last Bank that Beria and his crew would think I would use?’

Vanka thought for a moment. ‘Oh fuck … the one in the Ghetto.’

I regret to inform you, Comrade Leader, that my Ministry has received a communication from Venice, endorsed by Doge Catherine-Sophia, stating that until ForthRight troops have been removed from the Warsaw Ghetto all trades handled by the Rialto Bourse with respect to the ForthRight will be suspended. It should be recognised that a full ninety per cent of intra-Demi-Mondian trades are conducted through the Bourse and that almost seventy per cent of the ForthRight’s blood bonds and promissory notes are held by Venetian financial institutions. Without the loans raised on the Bourse it will be difficult for my Ministry to finance the longer-term ambitions of Operation Barbarossa. The ForthRight Guinea will also, effectively, be off the Blood Standard, which will have major – negative – repercussions in terms of its rate of exchange vis-à-vis other Demi-Mondian currencies.

– letter written by Comrade Commissar Horatio Bottomley, ForthRight Chancellor of the Exchequer, to Comrade Leader Heydrich, dated 82nd Day of Winter 1004

When, six hours later, the three of them – Rivets had insisted on coming along to protect Vanka and the ten thousand guineas he’d been promised – finally emerged, foul and stinking,
through the manhole in Zapiecek Square in the centre of Warsaw’s Old Town, Ella made the silent pledge that that was the very last time she would ever travel by sewer.

This was reinforced by the experience, when she first poked her head out through the manhole, of having a rifle shoved in her face by a ragged boy who looked barely old enough to shave. That the boy had a piece of tattered cloth with the words ‘Lieutenant: WFA’ scrawled on it pinned rather crudely on the sleeve of his filthy jacket only confirmed to Ella just how desperate the plight of the Varsovians was.

‘Who goes there?’ the boy squeaked.

‘My name is Ella Thomas, and I am the girl who, if you prod me with that rifle one more time, is going to jam it up your ass and pull the trigger.’ The cold fury in Ella’s eyes persuaded the boy to back away.

‘Gor … I’m sorry, Miss Ella. I didn’t recognise you, wot wiv yous bin covered in all that shit.’ He paused as though waiting for some reaction from Ella. ‘Don’t cha know me, Miss Ella? It’s me, Lieutenant Michalski.’ He stepped as close to Ella as the smell coming off her would allow. ‘You ain’t bin down in those sewers for four days, ‘ave you? No wonder you smell so ripe.’

Ignoring him, Ella eased herself out through the manhole and spent a few minutes trying to massage some warmth back into her hands and her ass. Finally, feeling vaguely human again, she gave Lieutenant Michalski her best effort at a smile. ‘It’s good to see you again, Lieutenant, and congratulations on your promotion. I would appreciate it if you would have someone take us to the headquarters of Colonel Dabrowski. It’s vital that we meet with him right away.’

Dabrowski looked up when the three of them entered and gave a tired smile. In the few days since she’d last seen him he seemed
to have deteriorated terribly: his face was gaunt and his skin the colour of old parchment. His voice trembled when he spoke. ‘Now here are some bad pennies. I never thought to see either you, Colonel Maykov, or your friend Miss Thomas again.’ He peered into the gloom towards Rivets. ‘And who’s he … re -inforcements?’ He laughed at his own weak joke. ‘So you made it, eh? I thought when I heard that you’d been ambushed in the sewers that that was the end of you. Pull up a seat.’ He nodded to three oil drums. ‘Aren’t you going to welcome our visitors, Captain Dashwood?’

Trixie stared at Ella with a look of real dislike on her face. ‘Did you organise the delivery of the blood?’

There was no point in sugar-coating the pill. ‘We organised it and I paid for it,’ explained Ella, ‘but our contact has been arrested by Beria. As we understand it, there’s no chance of the blood being delivered.’

Trixie gave the door a savage kick. A mist of brick dust drifted down from the ceiling. ‘I knew we should never have trusted a fucking Shade.’

Ella felt Vanka move closer to her: he was obviously as nervous of Trixie as she was. The girl seemed borderline out of control.

‘Please … Captain …’ the Colonel pleaded. ‘You must forgive the Captain. These have been difficult days.’ He looked at Ella and gave a wan smile. ‘You tried, and for that I am grateful. But now it is over. We lost control of the Warsaw Blood Bank to the SS this morning.’

‘How bad is the situation?’

‘We have two weeks … possibly less. There are close to three million civilians crowded in the Industrial Zone and without blood we are finished.’

‘I might have another idea,’ began Ella. ‘Another idea about how we can save the people of Warsaw.’

‘My, my, Miss Thomas, you Daemons are very devils for ideas, aren’t you?’ The sarcasm in Trixie’s voice was palpable. ‘What will it be this time? Will you use your Daemon’s knowledge of the Demi-Monde to fly all of us out of the Ghetto on winged horses?’

No one spoke, but the silence was almost audible. So far as Ella could judge, Trixie seemed to be on the brink of a nervous breakdown. The savage fighting had finally taken its toll.

‘You’re quite right to be doubtful, Captain Dashwood,’ Ella began, ‘and you’re equally correct in believing that, as a Daemon, I know things about the way the Demi-Monde works that you don’t.’ She took a deep breath. ‘It may be possible to alter the Demi-Monde so that your people can escape the Ghetto.’

‘How?’ said Trixie quietly.

‘Actually it isn’t my idea: it’s Colonel Dabrowski’s. I think I might be able to open the Boundary Layer.’

‘Oh, stuff and nonsense,’ said Trixie scornfully. ‘No one can do that.’

‘I think I can,’ said Ella simply. ‘Not permanently, but long enough for your people to escape.’

There was a stunned silence. Even Vanka seemed shocked by what she had said.

Dabrowski broke it. ‘How long will you be able to keep the Boundary open?’

‘I don’t know,’ admitted Ella, ‘but certainly for no more than an hour. The Demi-Monde is governed by people – by Spirits, if you prefer – who have granted me the power to make changes to your world, but these changes will only last one hour. That might be long enough to move your people out of Warsaw.’

‘Move them where?’ asked Trixie.

‘Into the Great Beyond.’

‘Absolutely ridiculous,’ she sneered. ‘We don’t know what the Beyond is like. We might not be able to live there.’

‘I think you will,’ answered Ella carefully; she didn’t want to complicate matters by mentioning PINC. ‘My understanding of the Demi-Monde is that its geography and climate are uniform: this means that in the Beyond the air will be breathable, the wood workable, the soil farmable and the water drinkable. You can see for yourself that trees grow happily there and that the Beyond is home for a great many animals: buffalo, ibex, wild pig …’

‘But what about blood?’ said Trixie scornfully. ‘No DemiMondian can live without blood.’

‘There are Blood Banks in the Beyond,’ interjected Vanka. ‘When Speke made his balloon ascent he reported seeing them.’

‘Look, Captain Dashwood,’ added Ella, ‘I’m not saying this is a perfect solution to your problems. In the Beyond your people will have no access to the goods and commodities provided by the Industrial Zone. It’ll be a pretty primitive life.’

‘But it will be life,’ said Delegate Trotsky, quietly. ‘All my people have here is the certainty of death.’ The old nuJu shifted his backside on the oil drum he was using as a seat. ‘It has long been the dream of my people that one day we would journey to the Promised Land, a place where nuJus would have a home and be free of persecution. We nuJus made a Covenant with ABBA that in exchange for our obedience to His laws He would lead us to the Promised Land. It is this Covenant that has sustained us through all our trials and tribulations. Perhaps the Promised Land referred to by the Prophets is the Beyond? Many nuJu theologians have speculated that it might be.’

Trixie gave the door another kick. ‘With all due respect, Delegate Trotsky, this isn’t the time for religious revelations or mystic prognostications. We need hard-headed RaTionalism.
There are almost three million people trapped here in the Ghetto: we must be sure that they are not escaping certain death here in the Demi-Monde for certain death in the Great Beyond.’

Ella nodded sympathetically. ‘I appreciate your frustration, Captain Dashwood, but it’s no use me promising something I can’t deliver. I’m not even certain I’ll be able to open the Boundary at all. But it is a possibility and anything must be better than sitting here watching your people being pounded to death by SS artillery. And, as your Colonel has said, you have only two weeks’ supply of blood left.’

‘How will you perform this miracle?’ asked Trotsky.

‘Whilst I was in Berlin I gained access to a thing called the IM Manual …’

‘The IM Manual?’ he murmured. ‘A strange coincidence: Immanual is the nuJu Prophet our holy writings foretell will lead my people to the Promised Land.’

‘The IM Manual allows me to make alterations to the DemiMonde, but to do this I will have to get into the Warsaw Blood Bank. The only way to use the IM Manual is through one of the Bank’s Transfusion Booths.’

Trixie gave another sneering laugh. ‘Then doing that will take a second miracle, Miss Thomas: the SS have now occupied the Warsaw Blood Bank.’

‘Can you retake it?’

Trixie ran a cordite-blackened hand through her cropped hair. ‘Maybe. Temporarily. It’ll take two hundred fighters to take the Bank and to hold it. How long will you need in the Bank to work this magic of yours?’

‘Thirty minutes.’

‘Make that three hundred fighters. The problem isn’t so much fighting our way into the Bank, it’s that there will be no way
we can fight our way out of it. It’ll be a suicide mission.’

‘There’s no other way,’ said Vanka quietly. ‘To give the three million people trapped in the Ghetto a chance to escape, three hundred fighters must sacrifice themselves.’

‘You’re very generous with my fighters’ lives, Colonel.’

‘Oh, I’ll be with them, Miss Dashwood, keeping an eye on young Ella here.’

Dabrowski drained his glass of Solution. ‘You’re right, of course, Colonel Maykov, but to venture into the Great Beyond is still a huge risk. Despite what Miss Thomas says, no one knows what dangers might be waiting there. It might be as inhospitable as Terror Incognita. And it will need careful planning. The settlers who go must take seeds and livestock with them, they must take tools and enough food to last them until their first harvests are in. There are a thousand and one things which must be thought of.’ Dabrowski trailed off as though cowed by the enormity of the decision he was being asked to make. He gave his head a mournful shake. ‘No … it’s not a decision I am willing to take.’

‘Then let the people choose,’ prompted Ella. ‘Ask them to vote as to whether they stay or go. That’s the democratic way.’

‘Democracy, eh?’ chortled Trixie. ‘Your friend Miss Norma Williams – the other Daemon – spoke of that. It’s nonsense. It has no place in the Demi-Monde.’

‘And what is this “democracy” of yours, Miss Thomas?’ asked Delegate Trotsky.

‘It’s a system of government where all the adults in a society vote to elect a leader or a government … or, as in this case, vote on something which radically changes their way of life.’

‘It is a ridiculous system,’ Trixie Dashwood sneered. ‘All your democracy is, is a fancy name for mob rule. How can common people know who the best leader is? How can common people
know how a nation should be governed? The people must be told what to do. Your democracy is a recipe for indecision, muddle and anarchy.’

Dabrowski had no such doubts. ‘No, Miss Thomas is right. The people must be told the risks and the dangers they will be facing if they journey into the Great Beyond and the risks and dangers they face if they stay here in the Ghetto. And then they must choose themselves. It is they who must decide whether they stay or go. Yes, it is for the people to decide, not me.’

Trixie stared at him with a mixture of astonishment and contempt. ‘Colonel, I beg you, don’t do this. You cannot ask the people, you must command the people. A strong leader does not debate, he orders.’

‘Enough,’ announced Dabrowski. ‘We will put the facts before the people of Warsaw and they will decide. If they choose to journey into the Great Beyond it will be their decision, not mine.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘But the more immediate problem I have is to find a commander mad enough to take and to hold the Blood Bank.’