In Your Dreams

by Holt, Tom

  ‘What happened?’ Paul asked. ‘Did he retire or something?’

  Mr Wells’s face betrayed a tiny trace of embarrassment. ‘He was made to leave,’ he replied. ‘The partnership felt that his ongoing enmity towards the Countess di Castel’Bianco was having an adverse effect on the firm’s business. Accordingly, he was paid the value of his share, and he left. He then proceeded to devote the rest of his life, and his entire financial resources, to carrying on his fight against the Fey. When his money was all spent and his credibility in the trade was damaged beyond recovery, he took his own life – intending, as we know, to return once you had completed the job. It’s a tragedy that his obsession should have cut short a quite brilliant career.’

  ‘Just a moment,’ Paul said. ‘He saved the human race, didn’t he?’

  Mr Wells nodded slightly to concede the point. ‘Arguably,’ he said, as though Paul had won a trivial point on a technicality. ‘To return to the matter in hand,’ he went on. ‘I’ve discussed the matter with my partners, and we’ve decided that since neither of you were what one might call free agents as regards your part in recent events, it would be inappropriate to take disciplinary action against either of you. We feel that, although your actions were directly responsible for the loss to the firm of a partner and a very considerable proportion of the firm’s income, you were in effect acting under duress and therefore can’t be blamed for what happened. In consequence, as far as the partnership is concerned, the matter is closed.’

  Before Paul could say anything, Sophie was on her feet. ‘This is a test, right?’ she said.

  Mr Wells looked at her. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘A test,’ she said, ‘to see if I’m really me or something; because it can’t be for real. You can’t be saying, “You just went through the most incredibly horrible experience ever and saved the human race, but it’s OK, we aren’t going to fire you.“ Even you —’

  ‘Miss Pettingell.’ Mr Wells seemed offended. ‘I fail to see what could possibly prompt such an outburst. Your actions have indeed damaged the firm and cost us a great deal of money. However, we accept that neither of you are to blame—’

  Sophie called Mr Wells a part of the male anatomy. This didn’t seem to help, but at least it shut him up for a moment. ‘I can’t believe it, even coming from one of you lot. My life’s been totally ruined, Paul nearly died —’

  ‘Actually, I did die,’ Paul said mildly. ‘Twice.’

  ‘—And you seem to think I actually want this lousy job. Well, all I can say is, you must be even more of a stupid fat jerk than you look, which I wouldn’t have thought was possible but apparently you managed it. You got that? I quit. I’m leaving. Goodbye.’

  Sophie swirled round and marched to the door, which wasn’t there any more.

  ‘Miss Pettingell,’ Mr Wells said slowly, with the air of someone wrestling back his temper with both hands and a cattle prod. ‘When I mentioned the possibility of disciplinary action, it wasn’t dismissal that I had in mind. The firm has lost quite enough money recently without forfeiting the substantial capital investment represented by our purchase of you. What I had in mind was rather more along these lines.’

  Whereupon Sophie burst into flames.

  How long Paul sat in his chair and stared at her, he could never quite figure out. It seemed like a very long time indeed, but he also knew that he was on his feet and lunging at her before she started to scream, which was almost immediately. Mr Wells tried to stop him (he had remarkable reflexes for a man his age and size) but Paul slipped past him and grabbed at Sophie with both hands, trying to beat out the fire. He was vaguely aware of the pain, and of Mr Wells shouting; and then Paul’s eyes went dark and all he could think about was the unbearable heat, which he couldn’t get away from whatever he did. He could feel his skin shrinking and melting; and then nothing mattered apart from how much it hurt. He lost his balance and hit the ground, and he wondered what Mr Dao would say to him this time—

  Paul, someone was saying, and he had a hazy recollection of having known someone with that name, a long time ago in a very bad place. He wondered why he was lying on his back with his eyes shut. He opened them.

  ‘Paul,’ said Benny Shumway’s voice, which was odd, since Paul was looking at a car. His car, his maroon Volkswagen Polo, with the chip in the windscreen where the gravel had hit it, that time when he went to Gloucestershire.

  ‘He’s awake,’ said the car; and Paul remembered that her name was Monika, and that she was Ricky Wurmtoter’s sister. That reminded him.

  ‘Sophie,’ he yelled, and tried to get up, whereupon a large hand pressed down on his chest, squeezing all the air out of his lungs. This was, presumably, for his own good.

  ‘She’s fine.’ Now Paul could see Benny’s face, looming over him like a bearded rain cloud, and in the background the plain whitewashed walls of the cashier’s office. He wondered for a moment what a car was doing in the smallest office in the building; then he thought, Magic, what the hell. ‘So are you. It’s all right, you’re safe.’

  ‘But—’ Either he could share this bloke Paul’s memories, or— ‘But she was on fire. That bastard Wells—’

  ‘Relax,’ Benny growled. ‘It was only trick fire. J.W. Wells patent non-oxydising flames – it burns but it doesn’t consume. God not included, bush sold separately. Amaze your friends and hurt your enemies a lot.’

  ‘Quiet,’ the car said. ‘Paul, the fire only felt like it was burning you, it doesn’t actually do any damage. The same with Sophie. She’s all right.’

  ‘Oh,’ Paul said. ‘Oh, right. But why did he do that? I know she lost her rag a bit, but—’

  Benny laughed. ‘Sounds to me like you’re under the impression that Jack Wells is a nice man; you know, a bit pompous and gruff but all right really, and always on hand at the end to rescue everybody and make everything all right. I have to tell you, that’s not really how it is.’

  Paul sat up, and this time Benny let him. ‘I’d sort of gathered that,’ he said. ‘Did he really do that to Sophie, just to punish her for being rude?’

  Benny shrugged. ‘He’s old-fashioned,’ he said. ‘Doesn’t hold with attitude and bad language. Or with anything that doesn’t make money for the firm. Losing money is pretty much guaranteed to piss him off on the quantum level.’

  Paul shook his head, as if he could get rid of the weirdness just by shrugging it away. ‘But Sophie was right,’ he said. ‘We rescued the whole bloody world —’

  ‘Which is fine,’ Benny said. ‘Provided you do it in your own time, and it doesn’t screw up the balance sheet. But don’t expect any thanks, least of all from Jack Wells. He’s not evil, like in Dark Lords and stuff, but he’d probably only save the human race if he was sure of getting a valuable prize once he’d collected the whole set. The point is—’ Benny hesitated, then made a what-the-hell gesture with his hands. ‘Let’s face it,’ he said, ‘you’re a hero, capital H and everything. True, you don’t look it, but so what, Cas Suslowicz doesn’t look like a giant, but you should watch him eat some time. Or not,’ he added with a slight shudder. ‘Fact is, you were a hero before you were even fucking born; your uncle Ernie saw to that, every gene in your body practically hand-picked. You’ve got hero instincts, including a heavily edited version of the self-preservation thing, and sad to say, but it’s perfectly obvious, you’ve got hero brains. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that all heroes are as thick as school custard; but in certain respects, they’re not smart. Couldn’t be, or they couldn’t do the job. Paul, my friend, you’re all hero, and you’ve just got to face up to it and come to terms. And part of being one is, you can’t see mankind in the crosswires or a damsel in distress without getting this overwhelming urge to leap in and help. Even when it’s the dumb thing to do. Even when it’s not wanted.’ He sighed. ‘But most people aren’t like that, and particularly people in our line of work. Think about it, will you? Guys who can do magic: think of all the good they could do, the difference
s they could make. Just cast a spell, wave a wand, and you’ve got an end to hunger and injustice, you’ve got world peace, you’ve got a sea full of whales and everybody learning to get along with each other, and God only knows what. Or so you’d think, you being a hero and all. But we, people in the trade, our minds don’t work like that. We think, How do I use this special gift I’ve been given to make an obscene amount of money without getting noticed and locked up in a government research lab or a funny farm? And you know what? It’s good that we think that way, because nothing in history ever did more harm to the innocent and defenceless people of the world than well-intentioned people with power trying to make things better. That’s why they threw Uncle Ernie out of the firm, Paul; he tried to breed a monster – magical powers, and a hero mentality. That’s you.’

  ‘Oh,’ Paul said. ‘Right. Well, thanks for telling me.’

  ‘No charge. But now you can see why Jack Wells and the rest of them forked out a small fortune for you – and they got a bargain, at that, because you’re the only specimen in captivity. Add to that the special bonus features, like the fact that you’re part-goblin, which means you can find mineral resources just by looking at aerial photographs; you’re a walking goldmine, no pun intended. Getting the two of you together—’

  ‘Benny!’ snapped the car. ‘That’s enough.’

  ‘What do you mean, the two of us?’ Paul said urgently, but Benny just shook his head. ‘Not for me to say,’ he said. ‘But here’s a clue: if you can figure out why Judy was so dead set on getting your Sophie for her replacement Source, you’ll be in the right area. And that’s your lot, on that topic. I’ve said too much already. Probably still a bit dizzy in the head, after Ricky bashed me and locked me in the strongroom while you two were dealing with Judy.’ He sighed. ‘Which was the right thing to do, I guess, because I would’ve tried to stop you. Oh, I’m over her now,’ he added quickly, as the car revved ominously. ‘Because she’s gone, after all, and so her power’s gone too, I’m out from under her spell, thanks to you. Both of you.’

  ‘That’s better,’ the car said, a trifle grumpily. ‘She was a very bad person, and you should be ashamed.’

  Benny grinned. ‘I am,’ he said. ‘Trust me.’

  Paul thought it’d be a good idea to change the subject. ‘So,’ he said awkwardly, ‘you two are, well, you know—’

  Benny nodded. ‘Talking of which,’ he added, ‘it’s my sad duty to break it to you that you haven’t got a company car any more. Dennis Tanner handed me the keys this morning.’ Monika’s engine purred involuntarily. ‘Ricky was pretty uptight about the whole thing – told me that if he ever catches me giving my car a good polish and wax, he’ll rip my lungs out with a garden fork. But he’ll come round,’ he added cheerfully. ‘They always do. I mean, when you consider he was so desperate to get her off his hands that he was prepared to try and fix her up with you —’

  Anything that Paul might have said was drowned out in the blare of Monika’s horn, which carried on until Benny apologised and promised to be good in future. ‘It’s true, though,’ he added. ‘Obviously he thinks well of you; birds of a feather, I guess, because Ricky’s all hero, from his toothpaste smile to his carbon-fibre-reinforced socks. I’d assumed you’d figured that out for yourself, actually. I mean, why else would a junior nobody like you get assigned a company car?’

  Don’t go there, Paul told himself, it’s never worth it. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I suppose I’d better be getting along. Thanks for – well, thanks. I guess.’

  But Benny shook his head. ‘Small job I’d like you to help with,’ he said. ‘Just the usual, trip to the Bank, paying in and drawing tomorrow’s cheques. Only, I thought you might want to come along.’

  ‘What, me go back in there?’ Paul shuddered, and in doing so felt the edge of the cardboard tube that held the Door rub against his ribs. ‘Actually,’ he said, ‘yes, why not? I’d like a quick word with Mr Dao, if there’s time.’

  ‘Good lad.’ Benny nodded approvingly. ‘Right, we’d better go.’ He smiled, rather nauseatingly, at the car, which indicated back. ‘See you later, honeypot,’ he said. ‘Thought we’d have a quiet evening in, just you, me, a gallon of transmission oil and a Haynes manual.’

  If Monika had made a noise like that while he’d been driving her, Paul would’ve taken her straight to the garage. Now at least he knew what it signified, which was something. The disturbing thing was, his dad had had a Rover 2000 that made exactly the same noise when going up hills.

  ‘You again,’ said Mr Dao, but Paul knew him well enough by now to interpret the tiny discrepancy between the levels of the sides of his mouth as a smile.

  Paul grinned weakly. ‘Me again,’ he said. ‘But this time—’

  Mr Dao raised his hand. ‘Quite so. And Mr Shumway: what a pleasure it is to see you again.’

  Benny grunted something that Paul didn’t catch. ‘Business as usual from now on,’ he said. ‘You heard about the doings Topside, I take it.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Mr Dao said. ‘I would imagine it is all for the best. The Fey have never been regular clients of the Bank, for obvious reasons. Naturally, when an unfortunate situation arises, we tend to look kindly on those who favour us with their custom. Beyond that,’ he added, ‘we find it hard to motivate ourselves to take more than a passing interest. We are peaceful people down here, Mr Shumway. We prefer it that way. Excitement disturbs our tranquillity of mind, reminding us of what we once were and can no longer be.’

  Benny shrugged. ‘It’s a point of view,’ he said. ‘Anyhow, we’re pretty much back to normal on our side of the Line, so with any luck we won’t be doing anything to upset you for a while.’

  There was a slight but deep sadness in Mr Dao’s smile. ‘Nothing upsets us, Mr Shumway. We are incapable of feelings so intense. Now then,’ he continued briskly, ‘here are tomorrow’s wire transfers, and statements for the deferred deposit accounts. I regret to have to tell you that a cheque drawn on the Commercial Bank of Isfahan was only partially burnt by the gentleman who’s been looking after your duties during your absence—’

  ‘Dennis Tanner,’ Benny interrupted, scowling with exasperation. ‘He’s never got the knack of holding the very edge of the corner, so of course he burns his fingers and lets go. Still, he’s management, so what can you do?’

  Mr Dao nodded sympathetically. ‘If you could see to it, I should be very greatly obliged. I have in fact processed the cheque so as not to cause embarrassment.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Benny said. ‘Oh, and the kid’s got something he wants you to keep safe for him. Very safe,’ he added, ‘as in you-know-where.’

  Paul didn’t know where, and he wasn’t entirely sure he liked being called the kid, but he decided not to take the point. ‘Just this,’ he said, taking the cardboard tube out of his pocket. ‘If it’s all right, I’d like it so that nobody but me can get near it. Nobody,’ he repeated, reproaching himself as he did so for unnecessary melodrama.

  ‘Of course,’ Mr Dao said. ‘And in the circumstances, I think the Bank will be prepared to waive storage fees, given the nature of the item.’ A rather frosty look passed across his face. ‘We’re very proud of the fact that over the last two thousand years, nobody has even tried to rob the bank, knowing that it would, of course, be impossible. However—’

  ‘Actually, Jack, that’s not quite true,’ Benny put in. ‘There was that Brooklyn gang about forty years back—’

  Mr Dao nodded. ‘Technically, I suppose. But since they could find no way of getting in here other than suicide, and had omitted to make arrangements for their passage back, I tend not to count that as an attempt, but more as a fitting punishment for stupidity. That incident aside, then, there hasn’t been any trouble of that sort in our long and distinguished history. However, once I became aware of the existence of that,’ he went on, glancing down with distaste at the cardboard tube in his hand, ‘I must confess to certain misgivings. Whether it would be capable of breaching the Bank’s secur
ity I have no way of knowing, since the experiment has never been tried. I would prefer to keep it that way, and accordingly I shall rest in peace more easily knowing that the only instrument in the world that might be able to break into our vault is safely inside it. I should warn you, however, that you will be able to retrieve it one time only; once it has been withdrawn from our keeping, the Bank’s standared terms and conditions clearly state that should you wish to return it to store, a standard administration fee will be payable.’

  ‘Oh,’ Paul said, thinking: Aggravating, but that’s banks for you. ‘How much?’

  ‘A life,’ Mr Dao replied calmly. ‘Either your own, or that of someone prepared to die willingly in your place. A similar fee will be incurred,’ he added, with the merest shadow of a grin, ‘on each subsequent removal. We are, after all, a business, not a charitable institution.’ He held out his hand. ‘Goodbye, Mr Carpenter,’ he said. ‘It’s been disturbing knowing you.’

  Benny didn’t seem his usual chatty self on the way back to the office, which gave Paul a chance to agonise over whether he’d done the right thing in effectively getting rid of the Portable Door. Probably just as well, he decided; recent events had shown that the wretched thing wasn’t safe to leave lying about, and hiding it or never letting it out of his sight was simply inviting abduction, torture, murder and other similar inconveniences. Being able to nip out to Copacabana for a lunchtime drink wasn’t really worth it, all things considered; and besides, he had nobody to go with any more, so it really didn’t make any odds.

  When Paul returned to his office, he found Sophie sitting in her old chair. ‘Hello,’ he said.

  She looked past him. ‘Please don’t,’ she said. ‘Just pretend I’m not here or something. I’m only here because I haven’t got anywhere else to sit, and that bastard Tanner’s sent me down a whole stack of these bloody things to do.’