“What are you talking about?” Western Europe demanded.
“Smart boy, this friend of Carter McBride. He’s heading for the utility labyrinth.” North America datavised the file over.
Neural icons flowed together, producing a horrendously complex three dimensional maze for Western Europe to examine. Pipes,
tunnels, subway tracks, underground cargo roads, power conduits, they all seemed to interlock under that one section of the
dome. It was a nexus where utility providers and transport industries joined together to supply Edmonton with the essentials
its inhabitants expected; the busy powerhouse behind the public stations, efficient suppliers, and immaculate malls. The ground
for kilometres around the water station was riddled with concrete warrens and bunkers, with a thousand entrances and ten thousand
junctions.
“And those are just the ones marked on the file,” North America said bitterly. “Christ knows what’s actually down there.”
The possessed man and Billy-Joe stopped beside a giant metal trapdoor whose rectangular rim was marked out by thin lines of
thistles. It hinged upwards, tearing the tangle of yellow tap roots with a loud ripping sound. Crumbs of soil dribbled down
into the chasm revealed underneath. The top rungs of a rusty ladder were just visible. Billy-Joe started to climb down. The
possessed man followed. As soon as his head was level with the ground, the trapdoor closed over him. For a second, the rim
glowed purple, as if it had been haloed by neon tubes.
“I bet he just sealed it up,” North America said.
“Get the tactical team over there fast,” Western Europe said. “Welding the edges isn’t going to stop them cutting it open,
not with their firepower.”
“They’re on their way.”
“Can the AI track him down there?”
“It’s already accessed all sensors and processors in the labyrinth. But that shaft they went down was an inspection and maintenance
access for an old industrial heat exchange coolant fluid pipe. There’s no active electronics in there, it hasn’t been used
for fifty years. They could come out anywhere.”
“Damnit. Flood the place with your bitek insects. Use every operative you have to physically cover the exits. We cannot let
him escape.”
“Please. Don’t tell me how to manage my assets. I have some experience in these matters.”
“I apologise,” Western Europe said. “Damn, this is so frustrating. That possessed could be the real break we’re looking for.
He might manage to neutralize Dexter for us. We have to make contact.”
The tactical team reached the metal trap door and promptly carved a circle out of it. One by one they hurried down the ladder.
“Billy-Joe would probably lead us direct to Dexter,” Western Europe said. “If we could just find him when he comes out.”
“Maybe,” North America said. “I’m not making any promises.”
______
Searching the labyrinth was a huge operation, though subtle enough to avoid the attention of the media. Police were diverted
from their usual patrol routes to cover every entrance. Swarms of bitek spiders, bees, earwigs, and roaches were released
into the maze of tunnels and passageways, their examination coordinated by North America’s subsentient bitek processor array.
Every employee working in the labyrinth was stopped and questioned as they came on and off shift. The AI assumed direct control
of every mechanoid the labyrinth companies used, reassigning them to assist the search.
North America discovered several stim dens, enough deadbeats to populate a couple of condos, caches of weapons dating back
decades, and enough illegally dumped toxic waste canisters to warrant urgent official attention. There were also a large number
of bodies, ranging from the freshly dumped to skeletons picked clean by the rats.
Of Billy-Joe and the friend of Carter McBride there was no sign.
______
“Carter McBride?” Incredulity swept all Quinn’s anger away as the name finally registered. “God’s Brother! This possessed
definitely said Carter McBride? You’re sure?” Quinn could barely remember Carter’s face, just one of the little brats running
loose round Aberdale. Then, as he found out later, Laton had the boy murdered, making it look as though the Ivets had done
it. The villagers had systematically set out to kill Quinn and his colleagues in revenge.
“Yes,” Billy-Joe said. His limbs wouldn’t stop trembling. He expected Quinn to blast him into a lump of smoking meat when
he returned to the Chatsworth. In fact, he’d been wondering if he should even bother returning to the old hotel at all. Five
hours of shitting himself about the consequences as he slunk round diseased tunnels full of those fucking rats and worse.
Expecting the cops to burst out of the walls any second. Getting mugged. Fucking mugged! Some bunch of deadbeats clubbing
him over the head and making off with most of his gear. Not daring to shoot them in case the cops detected his weapon.
It had taken a long time before he trudged back to the Chatsworth. In the end he did it because he believed Quinn would ultimately
win. Edmonton would fall into a state of demonic anarchy, ruled over by sect possessed. And when that happened, the dark messiah
would catch up with Billy-Joe. Explanations would have to be made. Punishment would follow that. So he came back. This way
only one failure had to be accounted for.
“Shit,” Quinn breathed. “Him! It’s got to be him again.”
“Who?” Courtney asked.
“I don’t know. He keeps… pissing me off. He’s appeared a few times now, screwing with what I do. What else did he say?” he
asked Billy-Joe.
“That he was going to wreck whatever you were doing.”
“Figures. Anything else?” The tone was unnervingly mild.
“You’ll pay for what you’ve done. He said it, Quinn, not me. I swear.”
“I believe you, Billy-Joe. You’ve been obedient to Our Lord. I don’t punish loyalty. So he said he’d make me pay, did he?
How?”
“Just that he’d catch up with you. Didn’t say nothing else.”
Quinn’s robe changed, the fabric hardening around his limbs. “I shall enjoy that encounter.”
“What are you going to do, Quinn?” Courtney asked.
“Shut up.” He stalked over to the window and peered down through a gap in the heavy curtains. Cars and trucks flashed along
the ramp five stories below, curving down to street level. Fewer vehicles than usual, and the crowds on the sidewalk were
noticeably thinner. But then Edmonton had been in a mild panic for most of the day since the early morning commuters discovered
the vac-trains were closed. Every Govcentral spokesperson in the arcology assured the reporters that there were no possessed
loose. Nobody believed them. Things were falling apart across the domes. But not in the way Quinn intended.
I don’t fucking believe this, he raged silently. Some kind of supercops know I’m here. I can’t bring about the fall of true
Night without the vac-trains. And now heaven’s own bastard vigilante is gunning for me. God’s Brother, how could everything
go so
wrong
? Even Banneth is diminished.
It was another of His tests. It must be. He is showing me the true path to Armageddon lies elsewhere. That as His messiah
I must not rest, not even to gorge my own serpent beast. But who the fuck is Carter’s friend? If he knew Carter, then he must
be someone from Lalonde, Aberdale itself. One of the men.
Although that conclusion hardly reduced the field of suspects. All the men at that sewer of a village hated him. He forced
himself to be calm, to remember the few words the bastard had spoken back on Jesup asteroid when he fucked up the sacrifice
ceremony.
“Remember this part?” Quinn’s own mimicked face had taunted. So whoever it was had witnessed the sect ceremony before, then.
And was from Aberdale.
The realization was so pleasurable it blessed Quinn’s face with the kind of smile usually bought by orgasm. He turned from
the window. “Call everyone,” he told one of the nervous acolytes. “We’re going to tool up and march against Banneth. I want
every one of my followers to accompany me.”
“Shit, we’re going for her?” Courtney’s eyes were shining with greed.
“Of course.”
“You promised I could watch.”
“You will.” It was the only way. The cops would only allow the vac-trains to run again if they thought they’d eliminated all
the possessed in the arcology.
Quinn would bring them together, and do to them what Carter McBride’s friend had done to the sabotage group. After that, time
would become his most powerful weapon. Not even the supercops could keep the vac-trains closed for months when there were
no further signs of possession.
“But first, I have something else which needs taking care of.”
Courtney did as she was told and switched on a processor block, establishing a link with Edmonton’s net. Quinn stood a couple
of metres away, watching the little screen over her shoulder as the questor was launched into Govcentral’s main citizens directory.
It took eight minutes before the requested file expanded into the block’s memory. He read down the information, and smiled
victoriously. “Her!” he said, and thrust the block towards Courtney and Billy-Joe, showing them the picture he’d found. “I
want her. You two go down to the vac-train station and wait. I don’t give a fuck how long you have to stay there for, but
the first vac-train out of here, you take it and you get over to Frankfurt. Find her, and bring her to me. Understand? I want
her alive.”
______
A call from reception informed Louise that she had a delivery to accept. The house telephone was almost identical to the chunky
black instruments back on Norfolk, except it had a bell rather than a shrill chime. Now she had neural nanonics, the whole
thing seemed absurdly primitive. Presumably, for people who didn’t have them as their sole planetary communication system,
they were endearingly quaint. Part of the Ritz’s old-world elegance.
Louise looked around the lobby as soon as the lift doors opened, curious about what could have been sent to her. She was sure
all the department stores had delivered. Andy Behoo was slouching against the reception desk under the suspicious gaze of
the concierge. He jerked to attention when he saw Louise, his elbow nearly knocking over a vase of white freesia. She smiled
politely. “Hello, Andy.”
“Uh.” He stuck his hand out, holding a flek case. “The Hyperpeadia questor’s arrived. I thought I’d better bring it round
myself to make sure you got it okay. I know it was important to you.”
The concierge was watching with considerable interest. He didn’t get to see such naked adoration very often. Louise gestured
towards the other end of the vaulting chamber. “Thank you,” she said when Andy pressed the flek into her hand. “That’s very
kind.”
“Part of the service.” He smiled broadly, crooked teeth on show.
Louise was rather stuck for what to say after that. “How are you?”
“You know. The usual. Overworked underpaid.”
“Well you do a very good job at the shop. I’m grateful for the way you looked after me.”
“Ah.” Andy’s world was suddenly very short on oxygen. But she’d come down by herself. That must mean her fiancÉ hadn’t arrived
yet. “Um, Louise.”
“Yes?”
Her soft smile was wired directly into his brain’s pleasure centre, shorting out his coordination. He knew he was making a
right old balls up of this. “I was wondering. If you haven’t got anything planned, that is. I mean, I’ll understand if you
have and all that. But I thought, you know, you haven’t been in London long and had a chance to see much of it. So if you
like, I could take you out to dinner. This evening. Please.”
“Oh. That’s really sweet of you. Where?”
She hadn’t said no. Andy stared, his smile numbed into place. The most beautiful, classy, sexy girl in existence hadn’t said
no when he asked her for a date. “Huh?”
“Where do you want to go for dinner?”
“Um, I thought the Lake Isle. It’s not far, over in Covent Garden.” He’d asked Liscard for a two week advance on his pay,
just in case Louise said yes; Liscard granted it on a four per cent interest rate. That way he could actually afford the Lake
Isle. Probably. It had cost a lot more than he’d expected to reserve the table; and that deposit was non-refundable. But the
other sellrats all said it was the right kind of place to take a girl like Louise.
“That sounds nice,” Louise said. “What time?”
“Seven o’clock. If that’s okay?”
“That’s fine.” She gave him a light kiss on his cheek. “I’ll be here.”
Andy walked back with her to the waiting lift. There had been something about a dress code in the datavise when he reserved
the table. He now had two and a quarter hours to find a dinner jacket. A clean one, that fitted. It didn’t matter. A man who’d
got himself a date with Louise Kavanagh could do anything. Louise pressed the button for her floor. “You don’t mind if I bring
Genevieve, do you? I really can’t leave her here by herself, I’m afraid.”
“Uh.” From nirvana to hell in half a second. “No. That’ll be lovely.”
______
“I don’t want to spend an evening with
him
,” Genevieve whinnied. “He’s all peculiar. And he fancies you. It’s creepy.”
“Of course he fancies me,” Louise said with a grin. “He wouldn’t have asked me out otherwise.”
“You don’t fancy him, do you?” a thoroughly shocked Genevieve asked. “That would just be too hideous, Louise.”
Louise opened the wardrobe and started to rifle through the dresses they’d managed to acquire on their shopping trips. “No,
I don’t fancy him. And he’s not peculiar. He’s quite harmless.”
“I don’t understand. If you don’t fancy him, why did you say yes? We can go out by ourselves. Please, Louise. London isn’t
nearly as dangerous as Daddy thinks it is. I like it here. There’s so much to do. We could go to one of the West End shows.
They sell tickets at reception. I checked.”
Louise sighed and sat down on the bed. She patted the mattress, and Gen made a show of being reluctant to sit beside her.
“If you really, really don’t want to go out with Andy for the evening, I’ll cancel.”
“You’re not going to kiss him or anything, are you?”