He gave all his attention to fussing with his remote controls while Molly and I took the opportunity to move a few steps away and talk quietly with each other. I kept my voice really low. I wouldn’t put it past the Mole to bug his own lair, just in case.
"What do you think?" I murmured. "Can we trust him? I get the feeling he’s not too tightly wrapped, to be honest."
"What did you expect?" said Molly just as quietly. "He’s lived down here in seclusion for God knows how many years, his only contact with the world what he sees on his screens and hears on the Net. Like Oddly John: if he wasn’t crazy when he came down here, he almost certainly is now."
"But he says he knows things."
"Oh, he does. But whether they’re real things, or helpful things…It’s up to you, Eddie, to get him to tell you what you need to know. I mean, the Mole’s a sweetie, but he literally doesn’t live in the same world as the rest of us anymore."
"Then why did you bring me down here?" I said just a little tetchily.
"Because the Mole genuinely does know some things that no one else knows."
"Whispering is very bad manners," the Mole said loudly. "And we are not at home to Mister Rude."
"Sorry," I said. "We didn’t want to disturb you. I was hoping you might know some things I need to know."
"Try me," the Mole said grandly. "I am wise and know many things. Yes. Including a whole lot I’m not supposed to know."
"Do you know why I was declared rogue?" I said flatly. "Why the Matriarch wants me dead so badly?"
"Ah," said the Mole, his face dropping. He clasped his podgy hands across his protruding belly. "I’m not privy to our family’s inner workings. Not anymore. No. I couldn’t even tell you why I was made rogue." He blinked at me sadly through his heavy glasses and sighed wistfully. "Back then, I was a respected family scholar. Never been out in the world, never wanted to. I was working on an officially sanctioned history of the family. Full access to the library, access to all documents, interview anyone I wanted. Lots of fascinating stories…The next thing I know I’m on the run, with the pack baying at my heels. Luckily I was something of a voyeur, even then." He sniggered. "Nothing malicious. Not really. I just liked knowing things…It paid off, though; I was already out of the Hall with as many valuables as I could stuff into a backpack before they’d officially given the order to detain me. Oh, yes…I went to ground here. I knew about this place. I’m not the first Mole under London, you know. There were others before me, for various reasons. I just built on what they started.
"But I still don’t know why I was outlawed. After all my years of digging and probing and listening at electronic keyholes, I’m still no wiser. No. I can only assume…I must have been on the edge of discovering something really important, some deep dark family secret that the Droods have to keep hidden at all costs…I just wish I knew what it was. I’d sell it to everyone, just to make the family pay for what they did to me."
Another dead end. I scowled, thinking. "That reminds me a lot of what happened to the old librarian," I said finally.
"Ah, yes," said the Mole. "Poor old William. You know what happened to him?"
"Yes," I said. "Molly and I went to visit him this morning. He couldn’t tell us much."
"I’m amazed he told you anything," said the Mole. "I’ve been sending people in to talk to him for years, without success. You must tell me absolutely everything he said to you before you go, so I can record it. Everything, every word. Yes. I’ll study the recordings later, see if I can cross-reference any useful connections."
"Do you know what it was he found out?" I said. "What it was that drove him crazy? He mentioned the Sanctity and the Heart…"
"Did he? Did he now? That is interesting…Means nothing to me, though. No. I’ll have to think about that. Yes. Still, I can’t help feeling we’re probably better off not knowing. Look what knowing it did to a brilliant mind like his…" The Mole blinked rapidly several times, and then deliberately changed the subject. "I’m still working on a history of the Drood family, you know. From a safe distance. You’d be surprised how much information there is on the Droods out in the world, where they can’t suppress it. Oh, yes. I’m constantly finding out all kinds of awful things our family has done, Edwin, down the centuries. Oh, some of the things we’re responsible for…Terrible, terrible things! Yes. Just lately I’ve been concentrating on the real reasons behind certain important and well-known operations. For example, Edwin, do you know why our family is so determined to wipe out the Loathly Ones?"
"Well, yes," I said. "They eat souls."
"Apart from that," said the Mole. "The family needs to silence them so everyone else won’t find out that we were the ones who originally opened the dimensional door and let the Loathly Ones into our reality. We brought them here to act as foot soldiers against Vril Power Inc. during World War Two. Vril had grown powerful enough under Hitler to pose a real threat to the family. Had their own army and everything. Oh, yes, there were a lot of secret wars going on behind and underneath the real conflict, that the world never knew about. Anyway, the Loathly Ones did the job all right, but when the time came for them to return to their own dimension, as had been agreed, the Loathly Ones reneged on the deal and refused to go. They liked it here. The feeding was just so good…The family’s been trying to wipe them out ever since so no one will ever know we were the ones responsible for inflicting them on the world."
"Dear God," I said.
"Oh, that’s nothing!" said the Mole, leaning eagerly forward in his chair. "That’s nothing compared to some of the things I’ve found out! The family history that you and I were brought up on only records the official version of events, not the failures and foul-ups and the secret deals that went horribly wrong." The Mole paused, considering. "I have to say, I still believe that most of what we were taught was true…as far as it went…but you have to place it in the context of what it was all for in the end."
"So that we could be the secret rulers of the world," I said.
"Yes," said the Mole. "Sometimes I wonder…if perhaps there’s another context, beyond that, that I don’t know about yet. Some very secret reason why we have to be the secret rulers of the world, for everyone’s good. I’d like to believe that. Yes."
"Have you found any evidence for that?" I said.
"No," the Mole said sadly. "If only I could access the family library. All the reserved volumes and the restricted books. Learn the whole true history of the Drood family…But not even my resources can hack the Drood library. No. That’s why they’ve always kept everything on paper, because of people like me. And of course I’ve never been able to sneak a single surveillance camera into the Hall. No! No…"
"So you can’t tell me anything about why I was outlawed?" I persisted.
"You must know something," the Mole said sharply. "It’s always knowing things that make you really dangerous to the Droods. Knowing things they don’t want anyone else to know. Secrets that have to be kept inside their precious inner circle. The Matriarch, her council, her favourites…The ones who really run the world."
"But I don’t know anything!" I said. I could hear the desperation in my voice.
"They think you do," the Mole said simply.
We both looked around sharply as loud music blasted suddenly through the cavern. It seemed Molly had grown bored and wandered off on her own while the Mole and I argued over family history. She’d found MTV on one of the screens and jacked up the volume. "She Bangs" by Ricky Martin filled the air, the loud salsa beat echoing back from the stone walls. And Molly danced joyously to the music, stamping her feet and shaking her head and swirling her long dress about her. The Mole and I both watched, too entranced to think of protesting, as the wild witch danced to the music. It felt good to see such a moment of happy innocence in the middle of such dark discussions. Molly understood that life was for living, and living in the moment. Anywhen else, I would have joined her, danced with her, but just the thought made my bad arm ache the more
fiercely.
The song finally finished, and the Mole worked his remote control, cutting off the next number. Molly danced on for a moment, and then strode back to join us. Her face was flushed, her eyes bright and happy.
"Spoilsport!" she said cheerfully to the Mole, and actually leaned over him to kiss him on the cheek. The Mole blushed bright red. Molly looked at me.
"Are we finished here, Eddie?"
"Almost," I said. I turned back to the Mole. "What do you know about strange matter?"
"Ah," said the Mole. "Yes, yes! I heard about the elf lord’s arrow! It really punched right through your armour? Interesting…That was, well, I won’t say unprecedented—there are stories—but this is the first authenticated case I’ve ever encountered. All I can tell you for sure is that strange matter comes from another dimension of reality, where the laws of physics are subtly different. So that things which could never arise naturally here are possible there. Like strange matter, with its amazing unnatural properties."
"It’s inside me," I said. "Poisoning me. Killing me. Is there a cure, an antidote? Something I could use to drive it out of me?"
"I don’t know," said the Mole, and I could see it pained him to admit it. "I’d need to know exactly where it came from. Only the elf lord could tell us that, and elves don’t talk to anyone who isn’t an elf. I have some indirect contacts…Yes. Give me a few weeks, and I might have something to tell you."
"I don’t have a few weeks," I said. "And I’m starting to think that the only place which could help me, the only place with the answers I need, is the library back at the Hall."
"They won’t help you," said the Mole.
I smiled unpleasantly. It felt good. "I wasn’t planning on asking them," I said. "I was thinking more about breaking into the Hall, ransacking the library, and taking what I bloody well need. And if that happened to involve beating some answers out of various people, like Grandmother’s beloved consort, that would just be a pleasant bonus."
"Now, that’s more like it!" said Molly, clapping her hands together gleefully. "Hard core, Eddie! No one’s dared burgle the Hall in generations! Let me come too! Oh, please; I promise I’ll make a real mess of the place!"
"Edwin, no; don’t even think it," the Mole said urgently. "You know what kind of security protects the Hall. All the terrible things and forces our family rely on to protect their privacy. Any safe words you might have known will have been cancelled by now. You don’t want to end up as one of the scarecrows, do you?"
"Wait a minute; those are real?" said Molly. "I thought they were just stories to scare people off."
"They’re real," I said. "I’ve heard them screaming. My family really is just as vicious and vindictive towards uninvited visitors as all the stories say we are." I looked at the Mole. "You probably know more about the Hall’s defences than anyone else who isn’t actually an insider. If you were to come with us…"
"No! No. I couldn’t."
"Not even for a chance to strike back at the people who ruined your life?"
"You don’t understand," said the broken man who used to be Malcolm Drood. "I haven’t left this place since I first came down here. All those years ago…This is the only place where I feel safe anymore. Just the thought of leaving here…is more than I can bear. You’re the first real, in the flesh visitors I’ve allowed in here since I first shut the door behind me and sealed myself off from the world." He managed a small smile. "You should feel honoured."
"No company, ever?" said Molly. "I heard rumours, but I never really thought…How do you stand it?"
"Because the alternatives are worse," said the Mole. "I live through my screens now, and on the Net. A virtual life, but better than none."
"All those years," I said. "Gathering and collating information, but you’ve never done anything to expose the truth about our family to any of the world’s media. Why not?"
"Because I’m not ready to die yet," said the Mole.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Time and Time Again
"So," I said to the Mole, "is there by any chance a back way out of this place? I’m really not too keen on fighting my way back through tunnels full of seriously pissed-off trolls just to get back to Blackfriars station. Which is probably swarming with unfriendly people on the lookout for Molly and me anyway."
"Of course there’s another way out," said the Mole. "You don’t think I’d allow myself to be trapped anywhere, even in my own lair, do you? I may be paranoid, agoraphobic, and unhealthily addicted to eBay, but I’m not stupid. No. I’ve always known that one day my many enemies will track me down, and then I will have to leave my comfortable little bolthole. Probably running. Yes. So, if you would care to make your way to the back of the chamber, preferably without knocking against or in any way upsetting my very delicate equipment, you’ll find an emergency elevator, ready and willing to take you straight to the surface."
"Where on the surface?" said Molly.
"Anywhere on the surface," the Mole said smugly. "Just tell the elevator where you want to go, and it will deliver you there."
"Anywhere in London?" said Molly.
"Anywhere in the world," said the Mole. "You always did think too small, Molly."
"An elevator to anywhere in the world?" I said. "How is that even possible?"
The Mole smiled on me pityingly. "You wouldn’t understand even if I did explain it to you. Let’s just say that quantum uncertainty is a wonderful thing and leave it at that. It was nice to meet you at last, Molly. And you, Edwin. But don’t come back. You’re just too dangerous to have around. Bye-bye. Safe journey. Why are you still here?"
Molly and I took the hint, nodded good-bye, and headed for the back of the cavern. Where there was indeed a perfectly ordinary elevator door set flush into the black basalt cavern wall. The door was polished steel, and beside it was a big red button, marked UP. I looked at Molly.
"On to the next rogue, I suppose. For want of anything better to do. You do know of another rogue?"
"Of course. Sebastian Drood. He has a nice little place in Knightsbridge, just down the road from you."
I may have blinked a few times. "I never knew that."
"Lot of things you don’t know that I do," said Molly. "You’d be amazed. Sebastian’s been around for ages, though he doesn’t bother to make the scene much. Likes to be thought of as a gentleman thief, but he’s really just a professional burglar with delusions of grandeur."
"Can’t say I know the name," I said. "Probably got scrubbed from the family history, like the Mole. And me."
"Sebastian’s a lot older than you," said Molly. "And though he’s not averse to involving himself in the odd plot or intrigue, he’s always been a behind-the-scenes kind of player. A real let’s you and him fight kind of guy. Never does anything unless there’s a profit in there somewhere for him. But he might help you…just to get back at the family that dared to outlaw him. Sebastian’s always been a great one for nursing a grudge."
She hit the UP button and announced the name of a street in upmarket Knightsbridge, and the elevator door hissed open. The interior looked just like any other elevator. We stepped inside, and the door shut quickly behind us. There was no control panel and no sensation of upward movement, but just a moment later the door opened to reveal a street I recognised that was only a few minutes’ walk from where I used to live. I stepped outside and looked around cautiously. There was no sign of any Drood agents. Whatever surveillance there was was probably concentrated around my old flat, just in case I was dumb enough to go back there.
The sun was high in the sky. Half a day gone, and damn all to show for it. It was hard to think, to plan properly, under such constant pressure. I looked back at Molly and wasn’t surprised to discover that the elevator door had disappeared behind her.
"How is it you know Sebastian?" I said. "Have you worked with him too?"
"You have got to be joking," said Molly, curling her lip. "I wouldn’t touch that man with a disinfected barge pole. He
works alone because no one else trusts him. He’s a two-faced, treacherous little turd who’s screwed over pretty much everyone at one time or another. However…he can be the man to go to when you need to get your hands on a certain item that no one else can supply, legally or illegally. Sebastian can get you anything, for the right price, as long as it’s firmly understood that there isn’t going to be any provenance. Or any protection if the original owner discovers you’ve got it. You can also be absolutely sure that there won’t be any refund if the item in question turns out to be not entirely what you thought it was. It’s up to you to be sure before you hand over any money. Buyer beware, and carry a bloody big stick."
"And this is the man you thought might help me?" I said.
"I’d better phone ahead," said Molly, producing a bright pink phone with a Hello Kitty face on it. "Make sure he’s in and that he’ll agree to see us."
"Might not be wise, using my name over a standard phone, on an open line," I said. "My family have people who listen in on everything."
"Don’t teach your grandmother to throttle chickens," said Molly.
"I haven’t spoken over an open line in years. The angels themselves couldn’t listen in on one of my calls without actual divine intervention on their side."
She moved a few steps away while she punched in the number. I leaned back against an ornamental stone wall and considered my situation. I wasn’t impressed with the two rogues Molly had introduced me to so far. Oddly John had gone mad, and the Mole was well on his way in the same direction. Both of them trapped in prisons of their own making. And this Sebastian sounded like a real scumbag. How could I trust anything a man like that might tell me, even if I could persuade him to talk? But time was pressing, and I had to get answers from somewhere. If nothing else, I was pretty sure I’d know the truth once I heard it. That I would recognise it somehow. My left arm hurt like hell, even though I had my hand tucked into my belt to carry some of the weight. I massaged the muscles with my other hand, but it didn’t help. The pain beat sickly in my left shoulder and down into my chest. The strange matter was spreading inexorably through my system. Three days, Molly had said. Maybe four. Maybe not. I had to get my answers soon, while they were still some good to me.
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