Redlaw - 01 (37 page)

“Deflect all you want, but I’m still going to say my piece,” Illyria said. “You are a good man, John Redlaw. You may have stopped realising it, you may have lost your way somewhat, but you are. God chose wisely when he chose you to be one of his agents on earth.”

“But you don’t believe in—”

“Doesn’t matter. Not the point. Now, as I’m not going to survive this, but you might, I want you to promise me one thing.”

“What?” He should have said,
Name it
. Too late.
What?
would have to do.

“Promise me you’ll continue to defy Lambourne and all the other bastards like him. Fart up all their noses.”

“Of course I will. Of course.”

“But specifically,” Illyria said, “promise you’ll defend vampires from his kind, and from anyone who means them harm. Vampires can’t help being what they are. They’re victims too, much as the people they prey on are victims. If I’ve learned anything being a shtriga, it’s not to blame them for their behaviour. Curb them, control them, by all means. Cull where necessary. But have compassion for them as well. The great majority of vampires never asked to be bitten and turned. Always remember that.”

Redlaw thought of the Sunless he had saved from those Stokers just three nights ago, before all this madness began, before everything went haywire—the not-long-turned Hungarian boy. Perhaps he had already started to become the person Illyria was asking him to be. He’d taken the first steps of his own accord, and there wasn’t far to go to complete the transition.

“They’re slaves of their appetites,” she said. “They need a firm hand, and someone to defend them.”

“You’re asking me to be a shtriga.”

“I am. A human one. If you can.”

“I’m not sure I—”

“Just promise it,” Illyria said. “You don’t have to mean it. Cross your fingers or whatever. But I need to hear it from you.”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

“Then don’t. Sorry I asked.” Not bitter. Just disappointed.

Redlaw said nothing for a while. Then, with resolve: “All right. You’ve got it. I will.”

“Thank you, Redlaw.”

“John.”

“Ah, now I get to be on ‘John’ terms with you. Finally.”

“I tell you what, I’d much rather that than ‘old bean.’”

“You don’t like ‘old bean’?”

“No.”

She laughed, painfully. “It’s not rather endearing in its archaic-ness?”

“No. Just annoying.”

“Nice of you to tell me that,” she said, “now it’s too late to be of any use. John...”

“Yes?”

“It’s been good knowing you.”

Again Redlaw said nothing for a while, this time because he found it hard to speak.

“Come on,” Illyria chided gently. “Don’t be sad for me. I’ve had a very long life and I’ve managed to keep my looks. How many others can say that? I’ve travelled, seen and done so much. I was granted abilities most can only dream of, and I’ve revelled in them. I don’t regret anything, except that you and I didn’t meet under other circumstances, John, beneath kinder stars. And I’m not scared of what’s coming, not in the slightest. I’m not saying that to be brave. It’s true. There’s nothing on the other side of death, and that’s fine with me. That’s how it should be.”

“There is, though,” said Redlaw.

“So you believe. I believe different. Let’s hope I’m going to be pleasantly surprised. But if not, so what? I’ve made the most of the decades I’ve had. I haven’t wasted them. I haven’t allowed myself to become jaded. That, I think, is the best anyone can say about themselves, at the end of it.”

The door clicked open. Footfalls on the stairs grew louder. Three sets.

Lambourne emerged first into the viewing gallery. Then Slocock.

Following them...

“You,” said Redlaw.

Commodore Macarthur.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

She studied Redlaw for a good length of time, lips pursed, eyes pitying.

Eventually she said, “John. Oh, God, John. Look at you. What it’s come to? I gave you every chance, you know. Every chance in the world. I did my level best to steer you away from this vendetta of yours, get you back on course. But you just wouldn’t listen. You wouldn’t be told. You ploughed on, getting yourself deeper and deeper in ’til you were past the point of no return. I was helping you, I was trying to save you, but you were too obstinate, too blinkered, to see that.”

“Helping?” In Redlaw’s voice, contempt and despondency vied for control. He felt as though he had been gut-punched, and yet, deep down, he was somehow unsurprised. He should have known. Perhaps in some obscure way he
had
known, but had refused to acknowledge it. “How did you help, exactly? By hindering me at every turn? Sacking me? Having me arrested?”

“By trying to stop you pursuing Lambourne,” Macarthur said. “By keeping you from making the biggest mistake of your life: getting on the wrong side of an enemy you haven’t a hope of defeating. I didn’t discourage you at the start, because I didn’t think you’d get very far. But you were so persistent, so determined, after a while I felt I had to take drastic steps. I wanted to prevent precisely this—you ending up at his mercy, with everything you hold dear taken from you and your life in tatters. Whatever I’ve done I did for you, John, for your own good. Although, obviously, it wasn’t enough.”

“Drastic steps. Presumably that included sending me into that Sunless nest alone, knowing there were dozens of them there.”

She nodded. “I had a pretty good idea how infested that business unit was. I’d visited it myself not long earlier, nosed around the outside and made plenty of noise. I rattled the cage so the vamps would be on the alert, expecting trouble, when you turned up.”

“I could have been killed.”

“No, not you, John,” Macarthur replied calmly. “Not with your skills. And I sent backup, didn’t I? Didn’t reckon on you getting hurt, mind. All I was after was reminding you of what you were supposed to be doing. I wanted you to get your head back in the game, to remember what being a shady is all about. You’d lost sight of that.”

“No, I think
you
have,” Redlaw said. “How could you take Lambourne’s side? Has he bribed you? Christ’s sake, don’t tell me he’s bribed you. What’s the going rate for a soul these days? What’s the modern equivalent of thirty pieces of silver?”

“Such emotive language. Mr Lambourne—Nathaniel—he and I don’t have that sort of relationship. Do we?”

“Not at all, Gail,” said Lambourne. “Money doesn’t enter into it. Which is refreshing, I might add. For once I have an influential collaborator who I don’t have to dip into my pocket for.” He patted Slocock’s shoulder. “You could learn a thing or two from the Commodore, Giles.”

The politician made a face.

“So then what
is
in it for you?” Redlaw asked Macarthur. “What are you getting out of cosying up to this scum?”

“Let’s just say his vision for dealing with the Sunless dovetails with mine.”

“Solarville.”

“Indeed. The Residential Areas don’t work, John, you know that as well as I do. It’s a joke. The vampires come and go pretty damn well as they please. The government set up the SRAs as a sop to people’s need to feel protected, a typical political quick-fix solution, bugger-all foresight or long-term planning involved. They’re just not fit for purpose. Solarville on the other hand, that’s the way forward. Once the vamps are in there, they’re in there for good. We can keep tabs on them, do head-counts, censuses. They can be corralled, controlled. They can even, if they start to get awkward, be...”

“Be what?”

“He doesn’t know,” Macarthur said to Lambourne, a knowing eyebrow aloft. “About the failsafe. You haven’t told him.”

“No, but I’m going to give a practical demonstration shortly. In about...” The Patek Philippe came out again. “I make it three minutes.”

“She’s down there, then?” said Macarthur, indicating the pit. “Redlaw’s lassie?

“Take a look for yourself.”

Macarthur did. Illyria hissed up at her from below, weakly but still with rancour.

“Shtriga,” Macarthur said. “I thought shtrigas were a Sunless myth. I’d heard rumours they existed—a powerful, benevolent vampire elite—but it seemed like fantasy to me, wishful thinking. But here is one, in the unliving flesh.” She looked round at Redlaw. “Is it true they have hypnotic powers? The ability to mesmerise others and make them do their bidding? Say they do, John. Say that’s how she ensnared you. You’ve been under her influence all along.”

She was giving him a get-out clause. Even now, at this late stage, she was still trying to help him, after a fashion.

“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done of my own free will,” he said. “I haven’t been dancing to anyone else’s tune.”

Macarthur caught his insinuation. “And I have? Don’t make me laugh. You know me. I’m hardly the sort to kowtow. This is just me and Nathaniel working in tandem. He came to me for consultation, technical assistance, and I gave it him. I’ve not done anything on his behalf that contravenes SHADE regulations or my own code of ethics. I actually, genuinely believe Solarville is our best bet for the future, for humans and ’Lesses.”

“And the riots? The deaths they’ve caused?”

“Undesirable, regrettable.” Her eyes were hard. “But nothing worth having is gained without a price.”

“Two minutes to go,” said Lambourne.

“Is my death included in that price?” Redlaw said.

“You don’t have to die today, John,” Macarthur said. “It’s very easy. Just renounce everything. Swear to me you’ll leave Nathaniel be, you won’t kick up any more fuss over Solarville, you’ll quietly go on your way, act as if nothing ever happened. Then you get to live.”

“And Illyria too?”

“Can’t guarantee that. She is a rogue Sunless, after all.”

“But I’m asking, hypothetically if nothing else: if I agreed to do as you say, would you let her go, unharmed?”

“John, no!” Illyria said from the pit. “Don’t. Don’t do this. Not for me.”

“You’re in no position to haggle, John,” said Macarthur. “I’m holding out a lifeline here, but only to you.”

“Both of us, or nothing.”

“I really can’t.” She sounded sincere in her regret, and firm in her resolve. “When you get down to it, that’s just a vampire there. An undead thing. She injured several of my men. Heffernan’s in bad shape. It could be months before he walks again, if he ever does. I cannot see my way to leniency with her. It would be better for you, anyway, to be shot of her. She’s a millstone round your neck, dragging you down.”

Redlaw shook his head. “Then, no dice. I die here tonight.” He nodded at the Cindermaker in Lambourne’s hand. “Presumably by my own gun. Then my body buried somewhere on this estate where no one will ever find me. I’m curious. Who’ll pull the trigger? Which one of you? You, Lambourne? Could you do that? Honestly? Put a bullet in my head? Execute a man in cold blood?”

“You have no idea what I’m capable of when it comes to protecting my interests,” said Lambourne. “One minute.”

“Oh, to hell with the countdown!” Redlaw barked. “What are you waiting for? If you’re going to do this, for God’s sake just do it. Get it over with. Send me to my Maker. I’m looking forward to meeting Him. I want to have words with Him about this crappy, corrupt world He made and all the liars and thieves He filled it with.”

“The countdown,” Lambourne said, unfazed, “is because what’s about to happen is reliant on an event over which I have no control. Daybreak in this part of the world is due in a little over thirty seconds.”

“Daybreak? So?”

“Look up, Redlaw. See the dome that’s capped over us? See what it’s made of?”

“Glass. Darkened glass.”

“Quite. The exact same glass used at Solarville.”

“Which shuts out almost all sunlight,” Redlaw said. “That’s the point, isn’t it? It protects Sunless. You had that Vlad creature in here for ages. So what are you getting at? The sun can’t harm Illyria when it comes up, as long as that glass does what it’s supposed to.”

“And it does,” said Lambourne, and his smile was sudden and vicious as he added, “In its present state. But that isn’t darkened glass up there, it’s electrochromic ‘smart glass.’ Its opacity comes from a thin film of laminate within each pane which responds to an electric current. Introduce voltage into the laminate, and the randomly orientated particles it’s made of start to line up nicely in the same direction and allow light to pass through. This control here...”

He moved over to a wall-mounted panel from which protruded a dial not unlike a large, revolving dimmer switch. It was encircled by markings that showed gradations of shading, from black to near-white.

“...lets me adjust the voltage level,” he continued. “It’s the ultimate deterrent at Solarville. Should the vamps try to start anything, we just threaten them with de-opaquing, if there is such a word. I was intending to deal with Vlad by this method, at this very moment, but it turned out he had other uses. One final use, I should say. However, I still have a guinea pig, don’t I? And I have been rather looking forward to seeing for myself, with my own eyes, the effects of sun on a vampire.”