The Man with the Golden Torc sh-1

by Simon R. Green

  "Don’t be a fool, Alistair!" snapped the Matriarch, some of her old authority returning. "You’re not a field agent! I protected you from all that!"

  "I never asked you to protect me, Martha."

  "He’ll kill you!"

  "You never did have any faith in me," said Alistair. "But this is where I prove you all wrong. You thought you could stop him with your authority, thought you could intimidate him into just giving up. I never believed that. He was never intimidated by authority in his life. But look at him now. Look at him! Afraid to move a muscle because of me!"

  He took his eyes off me to glare at her, and that was all I needed. In the moment when he was distracted, I whipped Oath Breaker out from under my belt, and brought it around in a swift arc. He started to turn back, raising the Salem Special, but the long ironwood staff undid the binding seals on the ancient pistol, and it exploded, all its stored hellfire bursting out at once. Supernaturally bright flames consumed Alistair’s hand and arm, burning the meat down to the bone in seconds. The stench of brimstone and burnt flesh filled the air. Alistair fell back, howling and shrieking. He flapped his arm wildly, as though he could shake off the flames. What remained of his right hand fell away as the hellfire consumed the small connecting bones in his wrist. It fell to the floor, still wrapped around what was left of the Salem Special.

  Alistair screamed horribly as the flames leapt up to take hold of his right shoulder. Martha beat at the flames with her bare hands, crying out at the pain but still trying to help. I armoured up and moved quickly forward to smother the flames with my golden hands, but even though the flames couldn’t burn me, I couldn’t beat them out. In the end Molly stepped forward and reeled off some Latin, and all the flames disappeared in a moment. Alistair’s cries fell away to shocked moans, and he sat down suddenly on the floor, looking dully at what little was left of his right arm. Martha sat there with him, holding him in her arms, trying to comfort him. I armoured down and looked at Molly.

  "Those were hellfires…How did you—"

  "Please," she said. "Remember who you’re talking to."

  Alistair’s moans stopped as he finally, mercifully, passed out. Less than half of his upper right arm remained, charred down to the blackened bone. It would have to be removed; it would never heal. Martha rocked him back and forth, crooning to him like a sleeping child. She was crying. I’d never seen her cry before. I tried to feel sorry for Alistair, but this was what he would have done to my Molly if I hadn’t stopped him.

  "Martha…" I said.

  "Don’t. Don’t pretend you care, you unnatural child."

  "So many tears," I said. "For Uncle James, for Alistair. But how many tears would you have shed over my death, Grandmother, if I had died on that motorway? Or if Uncle James had killed me like you ordered? Did you cry over my twin brother when he was sacrificed to the Heart? He was your grandson too. How did you choose between us? Flip a coin, perhaps? Or did you just leave it up to the Heart so you wouldn’t have to feel accountable?"

  But she wasn’t listening. All she cared about was her Alistair and what I’d done to him. Molly gently pulled me away.

  "We have to go, Eddie. Others will be coming. You know that."

  I let her lead the way to the far end of the room. I always thought that in the end the traitor within the family would turn out to be Alistair. Because he never was one of us, really. I wanted it to be him. But in the end…he fought well and valiantly to protect the woman he loved from my anger. I admired him. The poor damned fool. I didn’t need to smash through the far wall. Just opened the door and stepped through into the next room, leaving Martha and Alistair behind.

  The next room was huge, all gleaming white tiles on the walls and hygienically clean surfaces packed full of assorted computers and other advanced technology in an hermetically controlled environment. A whole room full of machines just to monitor and regulate conditions inside the Sanctity. They protected the Heart from all outside influences and protected those who lived in the Hall from the various disruptive energies and dangerous forces that emanated from the Heart. Normally there’d be half a hundred technicians scattered across the massive room, carefully tending the equipment and making constant small but necessary changes and adjustments to the Sanctity’s delicate balance…but the place was deserted. Presumably they’d been evacuated once it was clear I was coming here. I threaded my way through the bulky machinery, heading for the door at the other end of the room. Beyond that door lay the Sanctity, and the Heart, and my revenge.

  Molly and I were almost there when the door suddenly opened and Matthew and Alexandra stepped through. I stopped abruptly, and Molly moved in close beside me again. Matthew looked sharp and smooth as always, the family’s blue-eyed boy in his immaculate Armani suit. He smiled dazzlingly at me. Alexandra’s smile was cold, and so were her eyes. I nodded briefly to them both, doing my best to look entirely unimpressed.

  "Matthew," I said. "I should have known you’d turn up. You never could bear to miss out on anything important. But I honestly can’t say I was expecting to see you again, Alex."

  "You of all people should know I don’t give up that easily." Alexandra’s voice was sharp and pointed. "And you really should have expected to see Matty and me here together, at the last. But then you never were very quick at figuring out what was really going on, were you?"

  I frowned first at her, then at Matthew. There was something about their smiles, their easy confidence, their air of I know something you don’t know. I’d missed something. And I couldn’t afford to make mistakes, not when I was this close to the Heart and its destruction…What could I have missed? Neither Matthew nor Alexandra was wearing the armour, even though they both had good reason to see me as a threat. Something significant was happening here. I could feel it. They had to be planning something…I risked a quick glance with my Sight. Both Matthew and Alexandra were carrying concealed weapons radiating enormous amounts of power, but so were Molly and I. I checked the room around us. No booby traps, no hidden assassins. Just Matthew and Alexandra, with their cold calculating smiles. I looked straight at Alexandra.

  "What did you do to the Armourer, Alex?"

  She shrugged easily. "You didn’t really think you could take me out that easily, did you? I maintain a constantly updated protection against all forms of poison. Basic security measure. And he really should have known better than to turn his back on me…But he’d got old and soft, like so many of the family today. We’re going to change all that."

  And with that we, the penny finally dropped. "You, and Matthew…you’re part of the Zero Tolerance faction! The hard-core family fanatics who want to change everything! Kill all the bad guys, and to hell with the consequences!"

  "Yes," said Matthew. "That’s us. Only we prefer to call ourselves Manifest Destiny."

  I must have made a shocked sound. Their smiles widened, and Molly grabbed on to my good arm and hung on tightly. Perhaps she thought I’d attack them. I was too stunned. Matthew and Alexandra laughed at the expressions on our faces.

  "Truman only thinks he runs things," Alexandra said lightly. "But he’s just our front, our public face, so the rest of the world won’t realise that the Droods are actually bankrolling and running Manifest Destiny for our own reasons. Won’t realise until it’s far too late."

  "But…you fought their troops," I said to Matthew. "I saw you, in London…"

  He shrugged. "A necessary deception. And occasionally the troops have to be put in their place. It keeps Truman from getting too uppity if we slap him down hard now and again."

  "Working behind the scenes has always been the Drood way," said Alexandra. "Kingmakers rather than kings. Zero Tolerance is the only way forward for the Droods, Eddie. The family’s got very old-fashioned, very set in its ways, and far too complacent. Too content with the way things are in the world…Most of the younger generations follow us now, impatient to change the world for the better instead of risking their lives just to maintain the status quo. And
after all, why should they? Look around you. The status quo sucks. It’s time we take the lead, stamp out all the bad guys once and for all, and make a better world for everyone."

  "But who gets to decide what’s better?" I said. "The Droods? Manifest Destiny? You?"

  "The family will decide," said Matthew. "And who better? We’re the only ones who know what’s really going on in the world."

  "I thought you of all people would understand, Eddie," said Alexandra. "You were always the great rebel…the renowned freethinker of the family. You opened my eyes. Showed me there was more to life than just duty and responsibility. After you left, I waited and waited for you to do…something. But you settled for being just another field agent. Such a disappointment."

  "Funny, Alex," I said. "That’s just what I was thinking about you. I thought you were smarter than this. Matthew; he’s always been out for himself, but you…You’ve become the very thing this family has always stood against. Just another would-be dictator with delusions of grandeur."

  "Oh, they’re not delusions," said Matthew. "Not anymore. We have followers, weapons, and far-reaching plans. It is our time, our destiny. Tomorrow belongs to us."

  "The family’s spent far too long at war with the supernatural," Alexandra said briskly. "Spending our lives in their countless secret wars just to maintain their precious status quo. The time has come to put an end to all the wars, by winning once and for all. We will wipe out everything that isn’t human, isn’t natural. No more magics, only dependable, rational science. We’ll make the world a cleaner, simpler place. A human world, where human destiny is controlled only by humans."

  "No more magic?" said Molly. "No more miracles, no more winged unicorns, no more dancing on moonbeams or laughter in the wild woods?"

  "Oh, we’ll probably keep a few of you around," said Matthew. "As pets."

  "With the Drood family in charge," said Molly.

  "Of course," said Alexandra. "No more hiding our light in the shadows, doing good from a distance. We’ve earned our time in the spotlight. We’ve been planning this for so long…Only you came so terribly close to derailing everything, Eddie."

  "I did?" I said. "How very like me."

  "We were the ones who found and reprogrammed the Karma Catechist," said Matthew. "We planned to use his accumulated knowledge in the coming war. Only the process went wrong…He’d been through so many hands, you see, down the years. So many different groups with their different views and aims. I have to tell you, Eddie, the inside of his head was a real mess. So we slipped the poor fellow into Saint Baphomet’s very secretly to be repaired. By certain medical experts sympathetic to the cause of Manifest Destiny."

  "And then you came along," said Alexandra. "What were you doing in his room anyway, Eddie? It wasn’t part of your mission. You weren’t even supposed to be on his floor! But you never could be trusted to just do the job…We couldn’t risk what he might have told you about us and our plans. He knew our names, knew everything. And we just knew you wouldn’t go along with what we’d all worked so hard to bring about…So we whispered in the Matriarch’s ear, told her you deliberately murdered the Karma Catechist because you were a part of Manifest Destiny. It really wasn’t that difficult to convince her. You always were the black sheep of the family. A rogue in all but name. We persuaded her that you were a clear and present danger to the family, and Eddie…she signed your death warrant without even hesitating. Terrible old woman."

  Matthew grinned broadly. "We always knew the way to power was through her. So we…cultivated her. Fed her paranoia. We might not have been council members, but we were her favourites for years, and she kept nothing from us."

  "He never told me anything," I said harshly. "The Karma Catechist. He killed himself first. This…everything that’s happened…it was all completely unnecessary. All for nothing."

  Alexandra shrugged. "We gave him the poison tooth and programmed him to use it if he felt at all compromised. Perhaps we shouldn’t have given him such a hair trigger on the thing. But it doesn’t make any difference. You’ve actually been very useful to us, Eddie. You made such a wonderfully visible scapegoat, holding the family’s attention while we quietly put our plans into operation."

  "We would have had to destabilise and weaken the family first anyway before we could take control," said Matthew. "But now you’ve done that for us! You’ve demoralised the family, taken out most of their heavy hitters, and destroyed the Matriarch by destroying her beloved Alistair. James is dead, Jack is dead—"

  "You killed him? You killed the Armourer?" I said to Alexandra, shocked, and she winced at what she heard in my voice.

  "He was in the way," she said. "He should have retired long ago."

  "I’ll see you burn in Hell for that," I said, and my voice was cold enough to throw both of them for a moment.

  "You always were a sentimental soul," said Alexandra.

  "Right now there’s a power vacuum at the heart of the family," said Matthew. "And who better to step into the breach than the Matriarch’s acknowledged favourites? Especially when we have such a large and determined popular following within the family?"

  "The council won’t know what’s hit it," said Alexandra. "Until it’s far, far too late."

  "Do you know about the Heart?" I said. "The bargain that was made and the price we’re still paying for our armour and our power?"

  "Oh, that," said Matthew. "The Matriarch told us all about it long ago. She didn’t believe in keeping secrets from her beloved favourites. It was a bit of an eye-opener, I’ll admit, but as Lexxy said, there’s no room for sentimentality in a family that’s going places. We have a world to put to rights. What are a few lives in the face of that? It’s just…the way things are."

  "You can’t take the moral high ground with innocent blood on your hands," I said.

  "Watch us," said Alexandra.

  "Or not, as you please," said Matthew. "It’s really up to you, Eddie. Surrender to us and serve Manifest Destiny (after a suitable amount of brainwashing and reprogramming, of course), or die right here and now."

  I laughed in his face. "The Armourer opened the Armageddon Codex for me. I have Oath Breaker."

  Alexandra and Matthew looked at each other sharply, their confidence shaken for the first time. This hadn’t been part of their plan. But they still didn’t believe they could fail after coming this far, and they stared at me haughtily.

  "That wooden stick is the mighty and legendary Oath Breaker?" said Matthew. "I don’t think so."

  "You wouldn’t have the balls to use Oath Breaker," said Alexandra.

  "It’s too big, too powerful, for a little man like you."

  "We have weapons," said Matthew. "Real weapons. Terrible weapons! And the will to use them."

  Alexandra held up her right hand, and suddenly there was a long scalpel in it, shining supernaturally bright. "This is Dissector, the ultimate scalpel created by the ultimate surgeon, Baron Von Frankenstein. It can cut through anything, neat as you like. It can cut you open and reduce you to your component parts with just a thought. You even touch that nasty old staff, Eddie, and I’ll take your hand off at the wrist. Or maybe I’ll just cut your little witch’s throat."

  "You’re really starting to get on my tits," said Molly.

  "You always were a vindictive soul, Alex," I said.

  "And I have Dominator," said Matthew, more than a little grandly. He snapped his fingers imperiously, and a laurel wreath fashioned from pure silver appeared on his head. "With this, my thoughts become your thoughts, my wishes become your wishes. I’ll enjoy seeing you kneel to me, Eddie."

  "Really?" I said. "I always heard your tastes went the other way."

  "Surrender or die," Alexandra said sharply. "No more talking. Your precious uncle Jack isn’t here to save you with his Safe Words this time."

  Matthew chuckled nastily. A halo of psychic energies was already forming around his head.

  I concentrated on Alexandra, trying to reach her with the sin
cerity in my voice. "Don’t do this, Alex. For old times’ sake…for what we used to be to each other…You mustn’t do this. It’s not worthy of you or the family."

  "What do you know about the family?" she said flatly. "You haven’t been a part of it in ten years. I don’t know that you ever were, really. Always had to go your own way, live your own life, leaving the rest of us to struggle on under the yoke…until we found our own way out. And how can you talk about the family being worthy, when you know the secret of the Heart? The deal with the Devil our ancestors made so long ago? We’re not what we thought we were, Eddie. Never were. It was all a lie. Manifest Destiny is the only truth."

  "You can’t use forbidden weapons, forbidden methods, to save the world," I said. "You’ll destroy it, trying to make it over into what you want it to be."

  "So what?" she said. "What has the world ever done for us except lie to us? Better to die free than to live a lie one day longer. We’re going to make the world make sense, whether it wants to or not, whatever the price. This is our time, our destiny, and nothing can stop us."

  "Wrong, as usual," said a familiar voice behind me.

  We all looked around sharply, and there behind us was the Armourer, Uncle Jack himself, standing swaying on his own two feet. He wore a simple breastplate of an unfamiliar crimson metal over his lab coat. Caked blood had dried all down one side of his face from a vicious scalp wound on his bald pate. He nodded briefly to me and Molly, and then grinned nastily at Matthew and Alexandra. And as they stood there gaping at him, he spoke two Safe Words in a language I didn’t even recognise, and Dissector vanished from Alexandra’s hand as Dominator vanished from Matthew’s brow. They both jumped, startled, and looked at the Armourer with wide, wild eyes.