Forces from Beyond (16 page)

“Given that there aren’t any bartenders,” said Happy, “does that mean we can help ourselves to drinks? I’ve heard you can get some really amazing concoctions in this place. Everything from a wolfsbane cocktail with a silver-bullet chaser, to radioactive sparkling water, to Angel’s Urine or Old Shoggoth’s Irregular. And I’m in a mood to try them all.”

“Never knew you when you weren’t,” said JC.

“I doubt they’ve got anything in this place that could even touch your consciousness,” Melody said kindly. “Not after everything you’ve done to it.”

“True,” said Happy. “But I live in hope. And denial.”

Latimer looked him over carefully. “He looks terrible. I mean, even more than usual.”

“I do, don’t I?” said Happy. “It’s a gift.”

He looked at Latimer challengingly. The Boss shrugged and let it go. She could be kind, on occasion.

“Forget the bar,” she said. “We need to talk. We don’t have much time. Even my grandfather couldn’t arrange for this place to stay shut down for long.”

“What’s going on, Boss?” said JC. “I mean, really? There’s obviously more to this than just the Flesh Undying and its hidden agents. How many fronts are we fighting on?”

“The Carnacki Institute is being threatened with complete reorganisation, top to bottom,” Latimer said grimly. “So it can end up as just a subsection of the newly re-formed Department of Uncanny. With much less power and autonomy, and strict limits on what it will be allowed to investigate. Essentially, the Institute would be just a specialised part of a much larger organisation, more answerable to those in power.”

“But . . . they can’t do that!” said JC. “We don’t answer to the secular powers! That’s always been the point. We’re a Royal Charter, not a Government Department!”

“That doesn’t mean as much as it used to,” said Latimer. “Especially when there’s a cabal inside the Carnacki Institute that wants it to happen.”

“You mean apart from the agents of the Flesh Undying?” said Happy.

“Are you sure about this?” said Melody.

“I found evidence,” said Latimer. “Though it seems I’ve given myself away in gathering it. I was still putting together solid proof when it all went wrong at Brighton. And that gave them all the excuse they needed to shut me down. They need old hands like me removed, so they can pursue their own agenda . . .”

“But why?” said JC, almost desperately. “Why are they doing this? What do they want?”

“To seize power from the after-life,” said Latimer. “Enough power to make the world behave. The living and the dead. Make the whole world over into what they think it should be.”

“Are we talking politics here?” said Melody. “Or religion?”

“I think it’s simpler than that,” said Latimer. “They believe they know what’s best for everybody.”

“Oh, that’s bad,” said Happy. “They’re always the most dangerous kind . . .”

“It was their secret experiments in pursuit of power that broke the walls between the worlds,” said Latimer.

“I knew it!” said Happy. “I was right! I was right all along! Damn . . . I’m not used to that. It’s a heady feeling.”

Melody hushed him.

“Instead of the cabal reaching out through the gap they made,” said Latimer, “Something from Outside broke in. The Flesh Undying. Wiser people would have taken that as a warning; but now the cabal sees the Flesh Undying as a potential asset. Something to be seized, controlled, a weapon to make all the masters of this world bow down to them. And I, along with everyone else presumed to be on my side, are just obstacles on their road to power.”

“But the Flesh Undying is threatening to destroy the world!” said JC. “Do the cabal really think they can control something that big?”

“There’s none so blind, or more properly speaking narrowly focused, as those led by their noses by their own self-interest,” said Latimer. “Did I just mix a few metaphors? Don’t care. The cabal believe what they want to believe.”

“If they are in control the Carnacki Institute,” Melody said slowly, “how do we stop them? Just us?”

“We can’t,” said Latimer. “They have the entire resources of the Institute behind them and a whole army of manpower at their disposal. There’s no-one in the Establishment we can turn to. All my usual friends and allies and sources are either out in the cold or keeping their heads well down and hoping not to be noticed until the storm has blown over. They don’t realise how bad the situation is. Or how frighteningly high the stakes are. So, when you can’t rely on your friends . . . turn to your enemies. You always know where you are with them. I have therefore reached out to a recent ally.” She raised her voice. “You can come in now!”

An office door at the far end of the Club banged open as Natasha Chang made her entrance. Still dressed in her pink leather cat-suit finery, complete with pillbox hat. She swayed down the long room to join them, elegant and sensual, smiling brightly, entirely unaffected by the open antagonism in the faces of JC, Happy, and Melody. She finally came to a halt before them, struck a provocative pose, and smiled sweetly.

“Hello again, darlings! Isn’t it funny how things turn out?”

“You have got to be kidding!” said JC. He glared at Chang. “We’re supposed to trust you? After you ran out on us at Brighton?”

Chang shrugged. “Didn’t see any point in hanging around. The authorities would only have wanted answers to questions, and I don’t do that. I’m really a very private person. And anyway, I’m here now! That’s all that matters, isn’t it?”

“Boss,” said Happy. “Please let me shoot her.”

“You haven’t got a gun,” said Melody.

“All right, can I club her to death with a bar-stool?”

JC looked at Latimer. “You really think we can work with her?”

“I believe we can trust Ms. Chang to follow her own best interests,” Latimer said calmly. “Nothing has changed between us; we still have a common enemy in the Flesh Undying. A world dominated by the Carnacki cabal, or destroyed by the Flesh Undying, would have no room in it for the Crowley Project. And if we can’t rely on the Institute’s resources, perhaps the Project will have assets we can use.”

“Smell the irony!” said Chang. “I love it! It’s not every day the Crowley Project gets to save the world.”

“If the world ever finds out,” said JC, “it will almost certainly die of embarrassment.” He fixed Latimer with a cold stare. “I’ll say it again, this whole situation is way out of our league. We should turn this over to the heavy players, even if it means having to go cap in hand to the Droods or the London Knights.”

“They wouldn’t listen to us,” Latimer said flatly. “I have been very thoroughly discredited. By the time I could convince anyone to take a closer look at the evidence, it would be far too late. Of all the people I’ve already reached out to, people I’ve helped and supported in the past . . . the only one to come forward was Julien Advent. And that’s only because he’s family. No. We have to do this . . . There’s no-one else left.”

“There’s a depressing thought,” said Happy.

Latimer got up from her bar-stool. “Time to go, children.”

Happy downed the last of the champagne in his glass, put it down on the bar top, and looked wistfully at the bottle. Melody took him firmly by the arm and steered him away.

“The Club’s Management will lock up after us,” said Latimer.

“They’re here?” said Melody, immediately suspicious. “Could they have been listening in?”

“My Grandfather paid for privacy,” said Latimer. She smiled briefly. “Follow me, my gang.”

She led the way to the door. Natasha slipped an arm through JC’s, batted her heavy eyelashes at him, and snuggled up against his side.

“This could be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

“No it couldn’t,” said JC, very firmly.

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They left the Wulfshead Club and went back out into the deserted alley-way. The shadows seemed darker than ever, the garbage even more foul, and the smell hit them in the face like a flying half-brick. The silver door slammed emphatically shut behind them; and when they turned to look, the door had already disappeared. Nothing remained but an expanse of heavily graffitied brick wall. Happy stopped, and his head came up sharply.

“Pay attention, people; we are not alone . . .”

They all looked quickly around them but couldn’t see anything. The shadows were still, and even the garbage piles had stopped moving.

“We’re being watched,” Happy said quietly. “By something really close at hand. I can feel it, like someone prodding me with a stick.”

“Could it be the Club’s security?” said Melody.

“The Roaring Boys?” said Latimer. “I don’t think so. You never see them coming.”

“You said something, at first, Happy,” said JC. “Then you said someone. Which is it?”

“Hard to tell,” said Happy. His eyes were fey and far away. “I can’t seem to get a fix on it . . . I’ve never encountered anything like this . . .”

“Could it be the Faust, in a new body?” said Melody.

“No,” Happy said immediately. “I’d recognise that sack of shit’s psychic imprint, whatever body he was hiding in. This is . . . something new. Or perhaps very old . . .”

JC turned to Natasha, still clinging tightly to his arm. “Tell me you’ve got a car standing by.”

“Of course!” said Chang. “There’s a limousine waiting at the end of the alley. You’ll like it, Happy; it’s got a built-in bar. We travel in style at the Crowley Project.”

JC looked around for Kim, worried that he couldn’t see her anywhere. “Kim! Are you here? It’s time we were going!”

The ghost girl stepped elegantly out of the brick wall immediately opposite him; and everyone jumped, just a little. She smiled warmly.

“Hi, guys! I didn’t like being here on my own, so I opted for a little personal camouflage . . .” Her smile snapped off as she looked at Natasha Chang. “JC, why is that woman clinging to your arm?”

JC quickly retrieved his arm and stepped away from Chang, trying hard not to look in any way guilty. Kim looked challengingly at Chang, who stared haughtily back at her.

“We’re all friends again,” Chang said coldly. “Get used to it.”

“Friends?” said Kim, dangerously.

“Allies!” JC said quickly. “Kim, Happy says someone, or possibly something, is watching us. And not in a good way. Have you seen anything?”

“No,” said Kim, reluctantly turning her attention back to him. “But I have heard something . . . now and again. I thought it was just the local wildlife.” She glared at Chang. “What is this woman doing here, exactly? What use is she?”

“I was about to make the same point about you,” said Chang. “Everyone knows you can’t trust the dead; they always have their own agenda. Even the ones who say they’re in love with the living. Perhaps especially those.”

“No bickering in the ranks!” Latimer said sharply. “Let’s get out of here. Where is this limousine?”

Natasha Chang led the way down the alley, stepping elegantly past puddles and over garbage, leaving the others to follow after her. But when they reached the far end of the alley-way, she stopped abruptly and looked around her, confused.

“Where’s my car?”

JC pointed to a great steel cube, just outside the alley. “I have a horrible suspicion that’s it. I think someone has crushed and compacted your limousine.”

“We’re not doing too well with cars today, are we?” said Happy.

“Someone has compacted my limousine?” said Natasha, her voice rising sharply with sheer fury. “I’ll have their balls!”

“You might care to consider just how much strength it would take to do that to a car,” said JC. “Given that I don’t see any sign of a car compacter around here . . . Whoever’s watching us did this themselves, just to send a message.”

“I would have settled for a singing telegram,” said Happy. “Sorry; I always get flippant when I’m wetting myself with fear.”

“Can you call for another car?” said Latimer.

“Of course,” said Chang. “Might have some trouble getting another chauffeur, though.”

“Ouch,” said Melody, looking at the steel cube and wincing. “Also, ick.”

“Heads up, people!” said Happy, glaring quickly about him. “Someone is definitely here with us! It’s on the move!”

They all turned quickly to look back down the alley.

“How close?” said Latimer.

“Really close!” said Happy.

“Then why can’t we see them?” said JC.

“Because it doesn’t want to be seen,” said Happy. “Not yet.”

“Make a circle,” said Latimer.

They all moved quickly to form a defensive circle, standing close together, shoulder to shoulder, staring out. Standard field manoeuvre. Kim rose into the air above them, turning quickly to look from one end of the alley to the other. But no matter where any of them looked, they couldn’t see anything. The alley was still and silent. Chang suddenly had a weapon in her hand, a nasty-looking gold-plated pistol. She slammed off the safety, the sound loud and carrying in the tense silence. Melody looked at the gun enviously. JC looked at the street beyond the steel cube.

“I don’t see or hear any traffic,” he said. “No signs of any passersby . . . And no-one appears to have noticed a whole limousine being rendered down into the handy take-away size. Which leads me to believe the whole area has been sealed off. Someone doesn’t want any witnesses for whatever’s about to happen.”

“I don’t want to be compacted!” said Happy.

“How did they know we’re here?” said Melody. “Who knew we’d be meeting the Boss at the Wulfshead?”

Everyone turned their heads to look at Natasha Chang.

“Don’t look at me, darlings,” she said. “I’m right here in the trap with you.”

“And the Management wouldn’t talk,” said Latimer. Her mouth pulled into a tight grimace as she considered the possibilities. “I must have been followed. By someone very good if I couldn’t spot them.” Her scowl deepened. “I went to the Nightside for help. Where did the cabal go? Or who did they go to?”

JC looked at Happy. “Aren’t you getting anything?”

“I’m not feeling well,” said Happy.

“You look like crap,” said Chang.

Happy’s face was pulled taut by pain and strain, his eyes hot and feverish. He leaned heavily on Melody’s supporting arm.