"Now, Doctor Dee. I am on the Queen's business."
Dee looked resigned; there was only one answer to that. "I am at Her Majesty's disposal, of course."
"We have a little problem. I need information about a threat on the Queen's life," said Walsingham.
"You require me to transcribe a coded letter for you?" Dee asked, obviously pleased at the challenge that breaking a new code would bring.
"No, Doctor Dee. I need information and the supernatural is my last hope."
"You should try a disciple of that quack Nostradamus then," sneered Dee. "He could stare into the water and have one of his visions for you."
The scholar tried to walk off but Walsingham tightened his grip on Dee's forearm, bringing a gasp of pain.
"I want you to do a summoning." Walsingham fixed Dee with grey eyes.
"Keep your voice down," said Dee, looking around. "Trafficking with demons is punishable by death."
"I know that," said Walsingham. "Nevertheless, you will do it. I speak in the Queen's name."
"You have the wrong man, Sir Francis. I lack such skills," said Dee, licking his lips nervously.
"Don't try to gull me, Dee. I know Trimethius dealt with demons. He raised the shade of Maximilian's dead bride so the Emperor could talk with her one last time." Walsingham was implacable.
"There are no spells in the Steganographia that would summon a demon. On my life, Sir Francis."
"On your life, Doctor Dee, Trimethius' decoded writings led you to another hidden work. You know of what I speak. The work of the mad Arab, the Necron—"
"Don't say that word, Sir Francis. Please, the very pronunciation of the name is dangerous." Dee glanced around again. "I suppose this means that you have a spy in my household."
Walsingham did not waste his breath answering. Dee was incredibly na ve if he imagined that someone so close to Her Majesty as himself was not under surveillance.
"Very well, Sir Francis. You will need to send someone to fetch a certain wooden box from my cottage at Mortlake.
Simon was waiting at the front entrance when the royal messenger returned. The man would have changed horses at Mortlake but even so, steam rose from the horse's body and foam flecked its lips.
"Have you got Doctor Dee's property?" Simon asked the messenger.
"Here," the rider said, handing down a modest container. "I hope it is more important than it looks. I have ruined two good mounts today."
"I believe it is of the utmost significance," said Simon. "Of course, I do not know what it contains."
The two men exchanged the sympathetic looks of one small link in a chain acknowledging another.
Simon took the wooden box, which was surprisingly small. In his imagination, it had grown into a large wooden chest full of strange devices and leatherbound tomes of great portent.
"You, boy," he said to a servant. "Find Sir Francis Walsingham and Doctor Dee. Tell them the messenger has returned from Mortlake."
Simon made his way around the central building of the palace to a small quiet peripheral annexe that largely consisted of storage facilities. His route took him out of the complex through the cottage garden. A familiar voice sang quietly among the scented herbs. He calculated that the servant would take some little time to locate his master so he could tarry for a while. It would be pleasant to inhale the scent and converse with the garden's occupant.
"Good afternoon, Lady Dennys," Simon said.
"Hello, Master Tunstall," she said. "Have you come to rescue me from boredom?"
"Were I so gallant," he replied. "But I am on Sir Francis' business."
The girl nodded. She was used to living in a world that revolved around Walsingham's many interests.
"But this is a pleasant spot, Lady Dennys. Surely it can lift any black mood."
"I had thought the gardens of Nonsuch the finest that I had ever seen but I expect even paradise palls with time. And time hangs heavy here." The girl sighed.
"You have your duties, surely, as a lady in waiting to Her Majesty," said Simon.
"The Queen is very kind," said Lucy, carefully, "but she has few tasks for me so I am left much to my own devices."
Simon was not surprised that the Queen declined to have Lucy on display around her. There could only be one sun in the sky. He had no intention of speculating out loud on the Queen's motivations, however, so he changed the subject.
"Master Sydney is recovering, I trust?"
"I believe so," said Lucy, distantly. "He is in the care of the Palace physician. I can't be expected to waste my time on every aristocratic young sprig that is foolish enough to take a tumble while indulging in boyish heroics."
So much for the wounded hero, thought Simon. Another suitor gone, he concluded. Walsingham would not be happy. Her tone shut down further discussion.
"I fear I must take my leave of you, Lady Dennys." He raised his cap politely.
The room chosen for the summoning was an outbuilding on one side of the garden. As he entered, he could hear Lucy singing again.
"Come, heavy sleep the image of true death,
"And close up these my weary, weeping eyes.
"Whose spring of tears doth stop my vital breath,
"And tears my heart with sorrow's sigh-swoll'n cries."
Simon did not have long to wait before Walsingham and Dee joined him inside the annexe.
"Your property, Doctor Dee," Simon said, holding the wooden box out.
Dee took it and examined the seal carefully before breaking it and opening the lid. A pungent smell filled the room. Dee took out several small vials, a book, and some geometrical devices.
"I must prepare everything very carefully," said Dee, pedantically. "It has been many years since I attempted to summon a demon. Close the window shutters and lock the door. We must not be disturbed."
Simon sealed off the windows, plunging the room into gloom. There was no lock fitted to what was an insignificant building but he shut the door tight to humor Dee. A lock was hardly needed, as the only person around was Lucy and she knew better than to disturb Walsingham's meetings.
Through the door, he could still hear Lucy singing in the garden.
"Come and possess my tired thought-worn soul,
"That living dies, that living dies, that living dies."
Act 5
Queen Elizabeth's Apartment
The summoning had not gone well. Lucy lay on the floor unconscious. Dee drew his dagger and advanced on the girl, weapon raised. "Kill her. Kill her now, while we still can."
"What in the name of Hades do you think you are doing?" asked Walsingham, grabbing Dee by the arm.
Dee tried to shrug him off but Walsingham held his arm in an iron grip.
"There is no time to explain," said Dee. He looked at Simon. "Cut her throat, now. Please God, don't argue, just do it."
"Are you mad, Doctor?" asked Simon, shocked.
"You don't understand. She is already dead. Kill her body before something else claims it. Do it for her, do it for all of us." Dee pleaded with Simon.
Walsingham pulled his dagger out and held it against Dee's breast. "Dee, you will be silent or I will kill you now."
He flung the scholar across the room. Dee stumbled then stood, head bowed.
"I know what you fear, Dee, but I will not let your fear kill my niece. What happened in this room will remain solely between the three of us. Do you understand?"
"I understand," said Dee.
"I know I can rely on you, Simon," Walsingham said, almost with affection.
"On my life, Sir Francis." Simon met Walsingham's gaze.
Walsingham nodded. He picked Lucy up in his arms. "Come with me, the pair of you."
A maid put Lucy to bed, still unconscious. Walsingham sat at her bedside. The girl slept deeply, breathing steadily and slowly. She did not moan or turn but just lay there, auburn hair spread on the pillow. When Walsingham was exhausted, Simon persuaded him to his bed and took over. Every few minutes, he held a candle
by the girl's mouth to confirm that she still lived.
Not long after dawn, Walsingham returned accompanied by Dee.
"Any change, Tunstall?" asked Walsingham.
"None, Sir Francis. She sleeps still but she breathes strongly," said Simon, hopefully.
"This is most unusual," Dee said, looking closely at Lucy.
"Unusual?" Sir Francis snarled, spinning Dee round. "Unusual? Nothing has gone right in this enterprise, Dee. I hold you responsible."
"I told him to lock the door," said Dee pointing at Simon. "How did Lady Dennys get into the room?"
"The door didn't have a lock," Simon protested.
"This is getting us nowhere," said Walsingham. "Stop squabbling the pair of you. Dee, what can we do?"
"I don't know, Sir Francis," said Dee. "This is unprecedented. If the girl was possessed, then I would have expected her to be already dead, or trying to tear our throats out."
The men stared at each other helplessly.
Lilith swam in chemical energy. The endless clicking of electrons, the making and breaking of chemical bonds, supplied the power that sustained her information functions. She occupied a structure like the dog's body only on a larger scale. The main differences were in the central nervous system. The primary node was vast, with layer after layer of complexity. She was in a human, a sentient being.
The body was organised into three levels. At the lowest level coexisted a bewildering array of molecular interactions. Lilith's stolen database from the previous Shadow World gave her the basic tools to log and track these. All chemistry originated in molecular biological databases that were located all over the body. These information stores held coded instructions to control all other biochemical pathways. Molecules zippered down the codes to synthesise chemical messengers that then bonded on to amplifiers, spreading their impact throughout the system.
Lilith was struck by the resemblance of these databases to the core subroutines that stabilised her own processes. The mechanism was different but the principle was essentially similar.
The most important structures in the body were charged lipid membranes. Ions flowed backwards and forwards setting off cascades of electrochemical energy. The membranes branched and divided, enclosing central databases in cells that were filled with ionised chemicals. The cells danced in biochemical energy, extending processes that kissed other cells to exchange ions and electric charges. Lilith identified more than two hundred different types.
The dancing cells were organised into blocks,
The body produced an abundance of energy that Lilith could use to open a transdimensional portal. She could go home. There was only one snag. The disruptive flash of energy release would inflict terminal damage on the body that she inhabited. She knew what the Elder would say. That it was only a shadow thing of no importance. That it probably wouldn't exist without a member of the People to observe it. That it had such a short insignificant life that it should be proud to lose it at the disposal of the immortal People.
But the body was real, and it was not an it, but a she. Lilith had read Shakespeare's stories and she understood how much love and hate and life humans packed into the few days granted them. They should not be denied a single second of their allotted span. Lilith couldn't do it. She couldn't kill one of these wonderful biological creatures for such a selfish reason. She had not the right.
The woman was in shock. The brain functions were all on standby. Lilith cautiously explored and checked, taking each step very carefully. She compared each piece of new evidence with the material in her stolen database. She did not want a repeat of the disaster with the dog. Her host seemed in good condition but in quiescent mode.
It was not long before what Lilith knew exceeded the information she had filched. Even the twenty-first-century humans knew so little about themselves. These bodies were so powerful, so wonderful, and so chaotic. They were also amazingly inefficient. Lilith started tweaking and improving a bit at a time. She found a cell whose central code was corrupted, such that it was multiplying uncontrollably. Lilith killed it with constructed toxin.
The body's mitochondrial energy output systems could be so easily upgraded. The bone structure was inelegant and weak. A tiny adjustment to the molecular structure could increase the strength-to-weight ratio enormously. The muscles could be made to contract harder and faster. Small changes in the membranes could speed electrochemical impulses making the nervous system respond more quickly.
The problem, from Lilith's perspective, was what to do now. Her options were limited if she rejected taking the female's life. She could take over the body and hold the owning personality unconscious but what would Lilith do with a strange body in a strange world? A better alternative was to revive the female human and hide within her. Lilith could meld with her nervous system sufficiently to monitor everything the female experienced.
Lilith moved slowly and carefully. The host body was still on standby but Lilith now knew how to turn it on. Eventually, she pressed the switch.
A small voice said, "I'm thirsty."
The men turned and looked at the bed. Two large brown eyes gazed back at them.
"What are you all doing in my room?" Lucy looked puzzled.
Walsingham rushed over and sat beside her. He took her hand in his. "How do you feel, Lucy?"
"I'm thirsty, Uncle, and hungry. Why is everyone staring at me?" she said, nervously.
"But how do you feel, Lucy?" Walsingham persisted. "Are you all right?"
"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?" The girl pulled herself up in the bed and then, remembering her modesty, pulled up the blankets so the men could not see her nightdress.
"Shall I fetch a physician?" asked Walsingham
"God, no," said Lucy, looking frightened. Simon did not blame her. After King Harry destroyed the monasteries and their resident doctors, medicine in England was left in the hands of barber-surgeons, wisewomen, and physicians. And the most frightening of the lot were the physicians, whose every cure involved leeches.
"What do you remember?" asked Walsingham.
"I was in the garden." She paused thoughtfully. "I remember speaking to Master Tunstall and I saw you and Doctor Dee. Then I woke up here."
"Can you remember anything else?" asked Walsingham. "Try, Lucy."
"Not really. I think I dreamt. There was a bright flickering light." Lucy looked sharply at Walsingham.
"It's nothing, child, nothing. Tunstall will arrange breakfast for you. I want you to spend today resting. You fainted in the garden." Walsingham glared at the other men as if daring them to contradict him.
"Tell me, Lady Dennys," said Dee. "Can you hear voices?"
"Voices?" repeated Lucy, wide-eyed. "I can hear you."
"In your head girl. Voices in your head telling you what to do," Dee said, impatiently.
"What does he mean, Uncle? He's frightening me." Lucy clutched at Walsingham for reassurance.
"That's enough, Dee," said Walsingham. "The girl is fine. She was just stunned by the blast. She would be screaming in rage by now and trying to kill us if it had got her. You said so yourself."
Dee walked to the door and turned to face them. "I hope you are right, Sir Francis. You might be, nothing else in this business has proceeded as normal. However, if I am right, then I doubt if we could kill her now anyway."
Lucy followed this exchange with incomprehension.
Dee's conjuring dagger appeared as if by magic. Dee tossed it idly into the air and caught it by the tip. Dee drew his arm back and threw in a single fluid movement. There was a flicker of movement from Lucy too quick to follow. She held the blade of the knife between her thumb and forefinger, the point inches from her breast. A small trickle of blood ran down her hand where the blade had cut.
"You see," said Dee. "I suspect all discussi
on of what to do about her is now academic. I doubt we could kill her even if we tried."
There was a long silence during which Dee opened the door.
"Don't you want your knife back, Doctor Dee?" asked Lucy.
"You keep it, Lady Dennys," said Dee. "When you hear the voices, and I think you will, you might want to use it on yourself rather than your family."
With that Dee walked out.
Lucy said nothing but a single tear rolled down her cheek.
"Go and find a servant and arrange a meal for Lady Dennys, Tunstall," said Walsingham, speaking evenly as if nothing had happened.
He examined Lucy's hand carefully. Even a small cut could kill in a world without antibiotics. "It must have been just a nick, child. It has stopped bleeding already." He wiped the trickle of blood off. "Indeed, I cannot even find the cut."
"I feel well, Uncle. I think I would like to get up now," the girl said.
"Very well, child. I will leave you to your toilet."
Lucy was left alone holding the dagger. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship. The blade was covered in astrological symbols. Lucy tilted it backwards and forwards so the light reflected hypnotically off the glyphs.
Lilith was in a panic of indecision. She had patched into Lucy's sensory input system as she woke the girl. The men's conversation was chilling. They must guess that she was inside Lucy and they ascribed evil motivation to her.
She knew enough about Lucy to influence her nervous system directly. She could phase with the sensory nerves and create false electrochemical waves. The girl would hear or see what Lilith wanted her to hear and see. The dangers were immense. She had no idea what the girl might do but Lilith had come to a decision. She had to make contact with Lucy. Lilith thought that Lucy would react badly to a voice in her head after Dee's warning. There was nothing else for it. Lucy would have to "see" her.
Lilith had Lucy see her open the door and walk into the room. Lilith chose the way she would look with great care. She selected a mixture of features that she liked the look of, from various races of human. It was a surprisingly difficult decision. She settled on north European skin with emerald Asian-shaped eyes and high cheekbones. Jet-black hair, cut short at the front and sides but curled long onto her neck at the back, completed the look. She decided to be petite, as humans found that unthreatening.
Lucy's Blade Page 8
