Secret Histories 10: Dr. DOA

by Simon R. Green

  “That was fantastic!” Molly said loudly. “I want to do that again!”

  “Later,” I said. “You unrepentant little thrill-seeker, you.”

  I flashed up a map on the inside of my mask so I could see where we needed to go. The interior of the ship was a warren of narrow steel corridors, but the marked route seemed clear enough. How my family acquired this information, about what was after all supposed to be a rival organisation’s Secret Headquarters, hadn’t been made clear to me. But my family has a way of always knowing what it needs to know and then being smugly mysterious about it afterwards. As soon as I had the directions memorized, I dismissed the map and armoured down, sending the golden strange matter back into its torc. I didn’t want to risk drawing attention to myself, just in case the psychic chaff turned out to be not entirely effective. Or even real. The buffeting wind hit me hard, and the cold was so vicious, I shuddered violently. I turned to Molly and pointed down the deck, shouting to be heard over the wind.

  “That way!”

  “Let’s do it!” she yelled back, stepping behind me so she could use my armoured form as a windbreak.

  We crept forward along the steel deck, stepping around and over all kinds of technological protuberances and fighting our way into the teeth of the howling wind. I peered briefly over the nearest side. It really was a hell of a long way down. There were actually dark cloud banks between the ship and the ground. I glanced at Molly to see how she was coping with the thin air. She was shivering, but grinning broadly. For her, it was always going to be about the adventure. I looked up and down the great length of the ship, and wondered how Cassandra Inc had been able to launch such a huge flying fortress into the sky without anyone noticing. I said as much to Molly, shouting into her ear.

  “Probably bribed all the right people to look the other way,” she shouted back. “Paying them off with future information. That’s what I would have done. And you have to admit, Eddie, this is the perfect place to hide a Secret Headquarters. Beats the hell out of a cavern inside a volcano.”

  And then the wind dropped suddenly, and her last few words sounded loudly in the quiet. Her head came up sharply, and she looked quickly around her.

  “We’re not alone here, Eddie. Someone just joined us.”

  “Cassandra can’t have found us already!”

  “I don’t think it’s Cassandra . . .” Molly pointed off to one side with a steady hand.

  Standing alone on the far side of the deck, a tall, still figure in a grey monk’s robe was staring at us. His cowl was pulled well forward to hide his face. His feet were bare, and his hands were clenched into fists at his sides. The wind had dropped to almost nothing, and the cold was gone; I had no doubt that was all down to him. He had . . . an air about him, of cold intent and implacable purpose. I’d met his kind before. Such men are dangerous.

  “Who the hell is that?” I said. “And what’s he doing here? Now?”

  “I know him,” said Molly. “And not in a good way. That is the Manichean Monk. A spiritual enforcer, specializing in righteous retribution. Jumped-up thug with a halo.”

  “You mean, like the Walking Man?” I said. “The wrath of God in the world of men?”

  “Oh please; he wishes,” said Molly. “The Monk’s just a general troubleshooter. He mostly operates out of the Adventurers Club these days, in the Nightside. I worked with him on a few cases, some years back.”

  “I won’t ask,” I said.

  “Best not,” Molly agreed. “Except to say, in my own defence, it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “So many unfortunate things do,” I said. “But the Adventurers Club? He’s one of the good guys? Can’t say I’ve ever heard of him.”

  “He does try to be a good guy, in a frightening sort of way,” said Molly. “Manicheans are heavily into duality. Good and Evil, Light and Dark, Law and Chaos, and nothing at all in between. He hunts down heavy-duty sinners, on behalf of the Church of Last Resort. Humanity’s saviours, self-appointed. When you’ve tried everything and everyone else, they’re what’s left. If you’re sure your cause is just and your conscience is clear. Manicheans have a really unpleasant way of dealing with time-wasters.”

  I shot her an amused glance. “Okay, how did an odd couple like you two end up working together?”

  “I may have lied to him, just a little,” Molly said airily. “About who and what I was.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I understand. We’ve all got a dodgy ex or two somewhere in our past.”

  “He is not an ex! He was never an ex! Oh hell, he’s coming over. Look penitent.”

  The Monk came striding forward, stern and determined, like a force of nature on the move. For a man in a monk’s robe, with no obvious weapons, he still managed to look pretty damned threatening.

  “Does he believe we’re here to stop him?” I said. “Or is he here to look you up, in a not-at-all friendly way?”

  “We worked perfectly well together, thank you,” Molly said coldly. “And parted on good terms. I thought.”

  “Could he be here for the same reason we are?” I said.

  “I suppose it’s always possible, if Cassandra really pissed off his church with the wrong kind of prediction . . . but I wouldn’t have thought so. The Monk deals with individual sinners, not organisations.”

  “Then I refer you to my previous question,” I said. “Why is he looking at us like that?”

  “I’ll ask him,” said Molly. “He’ll listen to me. Unless he’s found out who I really am . . . Hey, Monk! Been a while. What’s going on?”

  The Manichean Monk crashed to a halt, a cautious distance away. He ignored Molly, all his attention fixed on me. I still couldn’t make out his features inside the shadows of his pulled-forward cowl. When he finally spoke, his voice was harsh and grating.

  “It’s time to pay for your sins, Drood.”

  “Oh hell,” I said. “It’s family business. Look, Monk, I’m a bit busy right now. I’m sorry, but I just don’t have the time for this.”

  “Don’t be flippant, Eddie,” Molly murmured in my ear. “The Monk has no sense of humour about what he does. I found that out the hard way.”

  “Another story for another time,” I said. “Is he dangerous, do you think? To us, or our mission?”

  “Could be,” said Molly.

  I nodded politely to the Monk. “Okay, what sins are we talking about here?”

  “The murder of innocents,” said the Monk.

  “I never killed anyone who didn’t need killing,” I said coldly.

  “Your family has.”

  “I can’t answer for everything my family’s done.”

  “Someone has to,” said the Monk.

  “Something’s wrong here, Eddie,” Molly said quietly. “This doesn’t feel like the man I knew. There’s something . . . off about him.”

  “Well!” I said loudly to the Monk. “We can’t stand around here chatting all day, or Cassandra’s security is bound to notice us. Hello? Monk? Why is he just staring at me, Molly? Why isn’t he saying anything? Can’t you just teleport him out of here? Answer that last question first.”

  “He’s shielded!” said Molly. “And . . .”

  “Why did I just know you were going to say that? And what?”

  “Bad news, part two,” said Molly. “The Monk has a special gift, from God.”

  “Really?”

  “Apparently. He can shut down people’s powers and abilities. Doesn’t last long, just enough to give him an advantage. He’s already shut down my magics. Try your torc.”

  I called for my armour, and it didn’t come. A chill ran through me. I’m not used to feeling unprotected.

  “I knew this mission would turn out to be a pain in the arse,” I said. “I just didn’t think it would happen so quickly . . . Look; what do you want, Monk?”
/>   “Your death,” said the Monk. “In payment for your sins. Your bloody-handed guilt.”

  “Can’t we talk about this?” I said. “I’m working here! And just for the record, I have sworn never to kill again.”

  “Too little, too late,” said the Monk. “You’re guilty. You’re a Drood.”

  I looked at Molly. “What powers does he have? What weapons?”

  “He doesn’t need any,” said Molly. “He can’t lose because he’s always in the right. Comes with the job.”

  “Terrific . . .”

  The Monk lunged forward. His hands came up and he went for my throat, and just like that, we were going head to head and hand to hand. Throwing punches and wrestling each other back and forth across the uneven steel deck. Molly held back, not wanting to get in my way. The Monk was almost inhumanly strong and fast, and driven by a terrible fury, but he didn’t have my fighting skills or experience. Drilled into me by the old Sarjeant-at-Arms when I was a lot younger, over many painful lessons, just so I’d be able to defend myself if I didn’t have my armour. I avoided the Monk’s grasping hands, ducked and dodged his punches, and hit him whenever I felt like it. He didn’t even try to defend himself; he just kept coming at me.

  I hit him in the head and ribs so often and so hard, I hurt my hands, but he never made a sound. So I darted back out of his reach, waited for him to come after me, and then stepped inside his defences and caught him with a perfectly timed left uppercut to the jaw. His head snapped right back, but he still didn’t fall. His cowl fell away, revealing his face at last. His eyes were wild and unblinking, and he snarled at me like an animal frustrated in its rage. I backed away. There’s no point in fighting a man who doesn’t care how hard you hit him. He came after me, because only getting his hands on me could calm the rage burning inside him. I ducked to one side and kicked his legs out from under him, so that he fell forward onto his face. And then I dropped onto his back with both knees, driving all the breath out of him in one explosive grunt. And still the Monk struggled to throw me off. I couldn’t believe it. I twisted one arm up behind his back and put all my weight into holding it there. I put my head down beside his so I could yell into his ear.

  “You thought you couldn’t lose, because you’re always in the right! So the fact that you’re losing now should tell you something! I’m not the bad guy here. Really, I’m not. So call this off, stand down, and we’ll talk. There must be some way we can sort this out. We don’t have to do this! Stop fighting me and listen, dammit. We’re both on the side of the angels!”

  “You have to die!” said the Monk, throwing all his strength against me. “Drood! Murderer!”

  I weighed down on his twisted arm, ready to break the bone if I had to, but he reared up so strongly, I couldn’t hold him. He threw me off, and I rolled away across the deck. What was it going to take to stop this man? By the time I’d got my feet under me again, he was off and running, straight at Molly. She gestured quickly, but her magics didn’t work. Her small hands closed into fists, but he was already upon her. She punched him hard in the mouth, and he didn’t even feel it. He buried his fist in her gut, bending her right over. I cried out in fury at seeing her hurt, and ran to them.

  The Monk grabbed hold of Molly as she struggled to get her breath back, and hauled her over to the edge of the deck. She fought him fiercely, but couldn’t break his grip. His hand closed tightly around her throat till she was gasping for air. He looked down at the long drop and then looked meaningfully at me. I slowed to a halt, some distance away. I didn’t want to panic the Monk into doing something stupid. Or even deliberate. I held my hands up placatingly.

  “Take it easy, Monk.”

  “I could jump,” said the Monk, breathing hard. “Just step over the edge and take your woman with me. Or you could save her.”

  “All right!” I said. “I’m listening. Tell me what to do. Just don’t hurt her.”

  “I want you to jump,” said the Manichean Monk. “Jump off this ship and fall to your death, Drood. Your armour will return, once you’re out of my range of influence, but not even Drood armour can save you after a fall from this height. You’ll have a long time to think about dying, all the way down. To suffer, as your family made me suffer. It’s up to you, Drood! Either you agree to jump over the side, or I jump and take her with me!”

  “Why?” I said. “Why are you doing this? I haven’t done anything to you. I don’t even know you! And Molly was your friend!”

  “Jump, Drood. Or watch her die for your family’s sins.”

  I called desperately for my armour, but it didn’t come. I was on my own. I couldn’t rush the Monk; he was too far away. And already far too close to the edge for my liking. I had a gun, tucked away in my pocket dimension, but I didn’t dare draw it. Just the sight of it might provoke him into jumping. I stood very still, trying to work out what my options were. I’d got too used to relying on the advantages my armour gave me. Now it was down to me . . .

  I moved slowly forward and stood on the edge of the deck, carefully maintaining my safe distance from the Monk. He studied me closely, his hand still closed around Molly’s throat. She’d stopped trying to fight him, watching me with worried eyes. I looked down, over the edge. I couldn’t even see the ground; the clouds were in the way. I wondered what it would feel like to fall through them, knowing my death was waiting on the other side. And just that thought showed me I’d already made my decision. The only one I could make. I looked back at Molly, who was helpless in the Monk’s grip, and did my best to smile reassuringly at her.

  “Take it easy, Molly,” I said. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

  Molly saw the look on my face, and her eyes widened with horror. “No! No, Eddie, you can’t! You mustn’t! Don’t you give this bastard what he wants! Don’t you do it, Eddie!”

  “I have to,” I said. “Because if it’s down to you or me, that’s no choice at all.”

  She struggled fiercely to break free. The Monk almost broke her arm, holding her in place. She cried out, her face twisted in agony, and fought him anyway. There was nothing I could do. The Monk could take them both over the side in a moment. Molly finally subsided, breathing harshly and staring miserably at me with tear-filled eyes.

  “Hush,” the Monk said to her. “It will all be over soon.”

  “Why are you doing this?” said Molly. “You know this isn’t right. It can’t be what God wants!”

  “It’s what I want,” said the Monk. “Do it, Drood. Jump. Or I go, and she goes with me.”

  I believed him. I nodded to the Monk, and stepped right up to the edge. I felt strangely calm, now all other choices had been taken away from me. There was just what I had to do, to save Molly. I took a deep breath. I didn’t look down. There was nothing there I wanted to see. I looked at Molly so I could take the memory of her face with me. I wanted her to be the last thing I ever saw.

  “Please, Eddie,” she said. “Please; I’m begging you! Don’t do this . . .”

  “I have to,” I said. “It’s all right, Molly. I’ve always known you were worth ten of me.”

  She screamed then, in rage and horror, and slammed her heel down hard on the Monk’s bare foot. The sudden pain distracted him, catching him off balance, and Molly bent sharply forward, putting all her strength into the judo throw that sent the Monk flying forward over her shoulder. The pain to her arm must have been unbearable, but she never hesitated. The Monk shot right over her, unable to stop himself. He lost hold of her arm and crashed to the steel deck at her feet. Molly kicked him savagely in the ribs. The Monk shot out a hand and grabbed hold of her ankle.

  I was already off and running, the moment Molly freed herself from the Monk. I knew I had only one chance to get this right. The Monk saw me coming, let go of Molly’s ankle, and scrambled up onto his feet again. Molly beat at his head and shoulders with both fists, but he didn’t seem to feel
the blows. He grabbed one of her flailing arms and dragged her back to the edge of the ship. She fought him every step of the way, slowing him down and buying me time to get to them.

  The Monk realised I was going to reach them before he could jump. He threw Molly to the deck and turned to face me. He struck out at me with vicious strength. I ducked under the blow and hit him hard with a lowered shoulder. I hit him square on, and the impact sent him staggering back. Towards the edge. He tried to grab hold of me, to take me with him, and then he was over the edge and gone.

  Molly ran to me and hugged me tightly, and I held her as close to me as I could. After a while, we walked over to the edge and looked down. There was no sign of the Monk. I hadn’t even heard him scream. Molly spat after him.

  “Bastard.”

  “Yes,” I said. “But that’s not a good enough reason to kill someone.”

  “Eddie?”

  “I’ve killed again, Molly. After I swore I never would.”

  “You had no choice! He was out of his mind . . . Everyone will understand. You have no reason to feel guilty!”

  “But I do,” I said. “I should have known; God does love to make a man break his word.”

  “You would have jumped to save me, wouldn’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then I wish the Monk were back here so I could kill him for you.”

  “You knew him,” I said. “Was he a good man then?”

  “The man we just met wasn’t the man I knew,” said Molly. She frowned. “There was something wrong with him. I could feel it. Maybe something happened to him, in the Nightside . . . If he’d been in his right mind, following his duty, he couldn’t have lost. Hey, my magics are coming back! Is your torc . . . ?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Come on; we still have a mission here. And it had better turn out to be worth it.”