It was faint grey dawn outside the window. Rain was glittering on the foggy glass. The word “can’t” was still faintly legible, backwards, and surmounted by a little heart. The curtain was half-drawn. There were two extra blankets on the bed, and one cat curled up against his side.
He smelled coffee and… He wasn’t sure. Something sweet. Chai spice or curry?
He remembered putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger. But he thought it didn’t go off.
Oh. Well. That was how it worked, wasn’t it? Ghosts never knew they were dead. They fooled themselves. He’d probably forget it ever happened.
All things considered, that wasn’t so bad. This rotten old hotel could use a ghost or two. Probably already had some.
“Yay, I’ll make friends,” he mumbled against the pillow.
“Oh, there we are,” said a familiar voice that turned his blood cold.
“Oh, gods, I’m in hell.”
David was missing his wig, mask, and makeup. He’d even taken off the coat and trousers, in favour of a plain white T-shirt and pyjama pants. It looked more like Erik than ever before, but it still wasn’t Erik. Not in every way it moved, and smiled, and spoke: “No, no, no, shhh, we’re all right.”
The god in Erik’s body slid into the bed beside him and slipped an arm around him, propping him up. “We’re safe. It’s all fixed. Let’s have a little aspirin and hydrate, and we’ll see if we can leverage you up through purgatory. All right?”
“No.” He began to weep.
“No, no, no.” David held him. “Listen, I promised Billie and Matvey I’d send for them in the morning, whether you were conscious or not, but we still have a little time… I’ve been fibbing, a bit,” he allowed, through a very un-Erik-like, delicate smile. “But I’m very persuasive. All we have left to do is get our story straight, and then they’ll look after you and Erik however you need…”
John snatched up his pillow and flat out screamed into it.
“Johnny, sweetheart,” David said reproachfully, “I understand it’s been a bit stressful, but the lack-of-trust I am sensing from you is really rather hurtful…”
◆◇◆
Maggie refused the night clerk’s assistance forcefully, lifting him by his narrow tie, “Get away from us, you gregarious little twit!” and throwing him back behind the desk.
“I’m so sorry, Andrej!” Ann called back. “We’ve just had a bit of a scare… Well, I suppose it will be on the news…”
“Under no circumstances are you to turn on that radio!” Maggie snapped. She dragged the cage-like elevator doors shut. “I will EAT you!” She addressed the lighted buttons with a pointed finger, “YOU WILL WORK!”
The elevator lurched to life and did.
The General hid a small smile behind her gloved hand.
Slowly, cautiously, Andrej unfroze, and switched on the radio.
An excited voice was relating another breathless update about the power outage. There had been a massacre!
◆◇◆
“Here, darling. There’s a little tea house, a few blocks down. I, um… Well, let’s just say I made a purchase.”
He’d thrown a bistro chair through the window and wandered in after it. He supposed he might as well. He’d already done the same to the pharmacy next door. All the lights were out and everyone was busy looking after the dead police.
“It’s called ‘dirty chai,’ it has espresso in it. What do you think?”
“I think they’re going to kill me,” John said numbly. “Or I’m going to get them killed. Or both…” He sipped, and David fed him an aspirin.
“No, they are not, because as far as anyone is concerned, we’ve escaped a bog-standard hate crime, we didn’t even start it, and it escalated after we left. And the only ones who are going to pay for it are some rotten old cops and some real shit human beings. I’ve had the radio on all night, and I’ve been making some calls.” He laughed. “I’ve been making quite a lot of calls, actually. All of me.”
The first call wasn’t even a call; he’d contacted Central via the smart paper. He gave a bowdlerized version of the same bullshit he fed the club-goers: Three men had accosted them for dancing together, they left, and someone had called the police at some point. They were not present for the massacre, but someone might have seen them before it, and they didn’t want to answer any awkward questions…
So, do you mind scaring up a few more people who can hold me? We’ll all get on the phone and make them believe John and I were never there.
“Nobody who matters has any idea it was anything to do with us, so we are safe, Johnny.”
◆◇◆
Maggie switched on the radio and peered through the lacuna, hoping for no photos. Or, gods help them, security footage. “I snapped out of it and so did Cin,” she said.
“I never snapped into it,” Hyacinth replied.
“That arrogant piece of shit thinks he made himself a watertight alibi, but there’s a… a fucking screen door hanging on it,” Maggie said. “Near as I can tell, people only believe him when they’re right in front of him, and some of them are immune.” She nodded towards Hyacinth. “It is only a matter of time! But I have no idea what those people think they saw.”
“I can tell you what they actually saw,” said Hyacinth. She flung the suitcase on a bed. Those things were shock-proof, he’d be fine. “But let’s unbox the contraband so…”
“Please!” said the General. She had her hand on the wall, running her version of the scanning spell. “I know we’ve experienced a horrible accident, but let’s not lose our heads.”
They all quieted.
The General took her hand off the wall and latched the door. “We are as secure as I am able to make us.” She could not suppress an ironic smile. “Given the circumstances, let’s call it eighty-five-percent. Although, in real terms, that will be one-hundred-percent, or zero. Need we pack our belongings and wait for the news, or did we manage to escape unobserved?”
“I screwed up,” Maggie said. She sprawled by the radio with both hands clamped over her face. “Oh, gods, I keep screwing up… I screwed up so bad…”
“Magnificent, we have extricated ourselves from the immediate hazard and the only casualties were enemy combatants,” said the General. “By all means, express your emotional reaction however you see fit, but in real terms, you have scored a series of one-hundreds under very trying circumstances. We shall regroup and do our best to continue the streak.”
Maggie was shaking her head. She didn’t stop, and she didn’t look up. “You would’ve figured it out. You would’ve got everything right the first time and he wouldn’t…”
“Your confidence in me is not unwarranted,” said the General, “but you are overstating it. I do not know what I would have done. Speculation is counterproductive.”
“He was right there!” Maggie said. “I was holding his hands, and I let him go!”
“Ah. Please do unbox the contraband while I see to this.” She sat beside her daughter on the floor, with an audible huff, and put an arm around her. “That is perfectly all right, Magnificent. Your judgment remains as sound as ever. We have time…”
“Oh, dear, I’ll get him,” Ann said. “Here, Cin.” She handed over a paper shopping bag with two cartons of iced coffee, a bottle of vodka, a bag of ice, and some basic first aid supplies, all purchased in a frenzy from the first twenty-four-hour convenience store they’d gone past in the taxi.
“I had to hit him three times because I couldn’t see!” Maggie howled. “I didn’t even have to! We had enough sacrifices to levitate a battleship! Erik just killed eight human beings! I’m so fucking stupid! I didn’t even think! I should’ve just… I… I should’ve…”
“Oh, no, dear, I’m sure he understands!” Ann cried. She glanced down at the limp body on the bed. “Um, well, I’m sure he will once he’s conscious…”
“Let me get a head start on fixing his face while he’s quiet,” Hyacinth said, leaning in with a box of bandettes and a bottle of astringent.
◆◇◆
There was a two-tiered cart sitting in the middle of the room, which John regarded with horror. “What did you…?”
“I got you breakfast,” David said reproachfully. “I got you several breakfasts, actually, because I wasn’t sure what you’d like.” He got up and lifted one of the lids from a silver platter. “Look! See? They have crêpes! They’re calling them ‘blintzes’ for some reason, but they are, in fact, crêpes. I had one.” He gestured to Erik. “I am feeding this poor creature, and taking him to the bathroom, and…”
“And walking him around where people can see him?” John shrieked.
David sat urgently and muzzled him with a hand. “Johnny, they can hear us, and I am trying to rest, but I will show you.”
Erik’s body began to glow, at first faintly, then more, and more, until it was blazing like a gas jet and leaping from his head and shoulders in a flickering tongue that reached the ceiling. John recoiled and David switched it off, as easy as turning a switch.
“I am going to tell you the worst-kept secret in this hotel room, which is that I am very upset about what you almost did to yourself,” David said. “But I have had ample opportunity to practice controlling it and preventing this borrowed body of mine from expressing it.” He shooed a haughty little gesture. “Took to it like a duck to water! It’s almost as if I already knew, and I was only waiting for Maggie to explain it to me out of politeness.”
“Maggie…?” John said.
David nodded. “Oh yes, she’s fine. Not really my type — I choose life, ha-ha — but I see what Erik sees in her. And she’s never going to bother us again! I asked her very nicely.”
“Oh, gods…”
“And I told everyone else who might’ve seen us, including the night clerk downstairs and everyone at the bar, that we were never there. I promise you, they believe me. They brought me breakfast. If they suspected anything at all was the matter, the police would’ve been here shooting at us, hours ago. We are safe. Now, would you like a crêpe?”
John shook his head, wide-eyed, terrified.
David addressed the cart again and began lifting more lids. “Bacon and eggs? Chicken soup with soda crackers? Smoked salmon on a bagel? Toast points with avocado? A Bloody Mary with hot sauce, worcestershire, a raw egg, and iron filings? Johnny, dear, you really must have something…”
◆◇◆
“Get away from me with that, I’m fine,” Mordecai said, swatting the washcloth away.
“See, Maggie?” Hyacinth said absently, still peering into the radio. “You have nothing to feel guilty about, he’s fine.”
Maggie was still clutching a balled tissue, but only sniffling occasionally. She was too confused to cry. “Nothing? Nobody?”
“All I can say for sure is nobody who’s been on the radio knows,” said Hyacinth. She stood up and left the volume on low. Her coffee-and-vodka was on the night table, and she retrieved it. “They’re all saying what he told them to say, but your guess is as good as mine whether they really believe it, or if they’re just incapable of telling the truth.”
“Is it possible a cover-up is in progress?” said the General. “As they have done with the trains?”
“I doubt it,” said Hyacinth. “They want stories with scary coloured people. They’re ginning them up when they don’t even exist. They’d be all over this if they had any idea. But I don’t know how in the hell Maggie shook it off.”
“And you as well,” said the General.
Hyacinth shook her head. She sipped her drink. “I know why he didn’t get me. I spent eight years of my life with that guy lying to me and bossing me around. He bit me too many times. I’m immune.”
“You are fucking delusional,” snapped Mordecai. “You don’t know what it is, and you don’t know who it is. You are making dangerous assumptions just because it acts like your David.”
“According to you, Monsieur God Expert,” said Hyacinth, “it didn’t stop acting like my David even when the police were shooting at it. If it’s that incapable of breaking character, we might as well treat it like the genuine article!”
He stood and snatched the paper cup out of her hand. “Stop drinking, you’ve had enough!”
“Em,” Ann said gently.
“Give me back my drink or I’ll have Maggie hit you again,” said Hyacinth.
“Cin,” Ann said gently.
He strode away, clutching her drink. He hesitantly touched it to his bruised cheek, where Ann had put the washcloth, as he spoke, “Even if it can’t break character, that doesn’t mean that it’s going to reproduce that character perfectly. It may just be operating on whatever Erik knows — he knows a lot, but he can’t know everything. And in any case, it does not logically follow that you weren’t affected because the original David annoyed you previously. We have a sample size of two. For all we know, it’s the relative fucking humidity.”
“You are correct,” said the General. “However…” She waved a hand and produced a neat line of glowing white script in the air, for all to see.
- 1. “David Valentine” cannot break character.
- 2. It knows everything Erik knows and will act accordingly.
“It seems you are still bleeding from one or more wounds, Mr. Eidel,” she added. “You may wish to sit as quietly as possible and wait for it to stop, although I appreciate your service as a battery. Now, as I recall, our original purpose for this mission was research and reconnaissance. Not a rescue, and certainly not a tactical strike. To the best of our knowledge, are the above statements true?”
“Not everything,” Mordecai said. “That’s not how it works. The information is available and it could know. Not just about David, anything in Erik’s head. Sometimes it’s like they want to know something and they need to look it up. It takes a second.”
“Are we being literal or metaphorical, Mr. Eidel?”
He sighed. “Anything from a second to a couple minutes, and sometimes they get bored or distracted and give up.”
“Very well.” The General waved a hand, and the writing changed.
- 2. It behaves in accordance with Erik’s knowledge of David, but perhaps not all of it.
Maggie snatched a pad of hotel stationary out of the desk. “Shit, let’s write this down for real…”
“Please give us a little time to add to the list and edit it first, Magnificent. What else have we observed?”
“It dances like him, I don’t know what you want to do with that,” Hyacinth said. She had poured herself another drink. She lifted the cup towards Mordecai, smugly. “Incredible attention to detail, for an imposter. It drinks like him, too, but it doesn’t get drunk…”
The General added: 3. It is not affected by alcohol.
“Bzzt, wrong,” said Mordecai. “It will be as affected as it wants to be. Not just alcohol; drugs, pain, sometimes even injuries that ought to be bleeding. When Erik’s back in control, he’ll be affected whether he wants to or not. And while he’s locked away, it all depends on how well he’s able to dissociate from whatever’s going on outside. Could be watching and feeling everything or nothing at all.”
“Just a moment,” said the General.
- 3. The god is able to ignore almost any impairment at will.
- 3a. Erik is not.
- 3b. Erik may be experiencing pain and distress while appearing perfectly fine, until the god leaves.
“Is that better?” said the General.
Mordecai allowed a grudging nod.
“And will there be anything else?” said the General, like a good service person.
“It’s operating at about David’s level of intelligence,” Hyacinth went on. “By which I mean it is a brilliant, devious twit. It came up with a plausible cover story under extreme pressure and browbeat a nightclub full of people into believing it — or saying they believed it,” she hedged. “But it only needed to do that because it walked Erik into the men’s room and washed his hands, in full view of whoever was in there.”
Mordecai groaned and dropped his head into his hands, and Maggie said, “What?”
“Oh, yes.” Hyacinth toasted them both, “As an unrepentant healthcare vandal, in my professional opinion, personal hygiene will get you killed,” and drank. “He was pulling the gloves back on as he came out. I saw, but I didn’t hang around to see who else did. I followed him. Someone must’ve called the cops, and these three idiots tried to take matters into their own hands.”
She snorted and tossed her head.
“David thought they were giving him shit for being gay. He stole their jackets and ordered them out of the club, then he started bossing the whole place around, and glowing. John freaked out — rightly so — and they went out the back. I stuck around trying to figure out how he got everyone to start talking and dancing like nothing happened. Talked to a few people, and they thought I was nuts, not just ‘cos of the funny mask and the tacky clothes. Either they really believed nothing happened and John and David were never there, or they couldn’t say otherwise.”
“I really believed it,” Maggie said. “I think. I’m not sure what he said. I remember, it was like no big deal and I thought they’d be fine. Then… I don’t know.” She shook her head. “It was like how Snow White puked out the apple and woke up. He fed it to me but it didn’t stay down. I don’t even remember letting them go.”
“Erik mind-talks to you to bug you, right?” Mordecai said. “Like Diane did to me?”
“Erik has never once forced me to make him a sandwich,” Maggie replied. “I think he would if he could — that is definitely his sense of humour — but he can’t. So, not like her. He’s not eldritch. It’s always, like, I’m minding my own business at the store, and I hear, ‘Hey, get me a soda,’ like he’s standing right behind me, only I know he isn’t.” She snickered weakly. “Then, if I don’t, he whines. ‘C’mooon. No faaair.’ Like that. But I can tell he just wants attention.”
“Diane used to do that too,” Mordecai said. “But when you’ve had enough of him, can you shut him up? Can you push him away?”
Maggie paused, considering it. “You know how sometimes you hold your breath and stop hiccuping, but sometimes it doesn’t work?”
Mordecai pointed and nodded. “I know it for hiccups, but Diane couldn’t teach me to do it with my brain. She was trying. I don’t think Erik was, but he might’ve taught you just the same. Did it feel like you held your breath for the hiccups?”
“No.” She sighed and shrugged. “More like I couldn’t breathe, and then something fell out and I could.”
“For Milo and I,” Ann said, “it’s as if he baps into the side of the house… Not even like a bird, not loud or sudden, more like… It’s snowing, and you can barely hear it. We have to let him in.” She sighed. “I don’t like to — we’ve hurt each other that way and it isn’t safe — but Milo always does.”
“I can’t tell you about it because I can’t do it,” Mordecai said. “I only know it’s possible. It can be learned, and taught.”
“Then I suggest we abandon this line of inquiry,” the General broke in. “It happened, but we do not know how, or why, and we have no known skill we can practise. I am willing to allow that it is most likely Mordecai was unaffected because he was unconscious. Beyond that, all we know is that when it works, judging from the radio, it takes hours to wear off, or it may never wear off at all.”
She added another item: 4. If it speaks and we hear it, it will end any rescue attempt, and possibly all future rescue attempts.
“He wasn’t even speaking Prokovian at the end, there, and people were still doing what he said,” Hyacinth told them. “So ‘hear’ is the operative word.”
“Very well.”
The General added: 4a. Comprehension is not required.
“And if John tells it to leave,” Mordecai said, “it will, and he can replace it with an unrepentant murderer in two minutes or less.”
“Also a valid concern, yes.”
- 5. If Mr. Green-Tara tells it to leave, we may all die.
◆◇◆
John was facedown on the bed like a corpse, and burying what sounded like further screams amidst the pillows.
David had approached, but stopped just short of sitting on the bed, or even laying a hand on John’s back. He was cringing in fear and uncertainty. “Um, this is nothing to do with the breakfast, is it? Ah… Johnny, are you able to do human language or am I going to have to guess? I…”
He drifted back towards the glowing sheet of smart paper on the desk. There were human beings on the other end of that thing. Perhaps human beings who were a bit more experienced with total nervous breakdowns.
You know, from the outside.
“I can’t,” David said weakly. “I can’t because I don’t know what you’ll say. You’ll get yourself in trouble, or… Or something worse. I don’t know…”
He crept towards the bed again. “Is it… That we’ve killed some people, or…?”
That didn’t seem to change anything.
“Do… Do we think we may have hurt our dear friend Maggie by…”
Another scream.
David scurried nearer and perched on the edge of the bed. “…by sending her away? Oh, dear, is that it?”
“It’s never going to be over,” John said, muffled. “It’s never going to be over. It’s never…”
David put a careful hand on his arm. “Dear, now-now-now don’t take this the wrong way, but… You’ve never seemed particularly happy that if we lose Erik, people are going to die, so…”
Another scream.
“Um. Yes. Definitely not happy about that, nor should you be, but… Then haven’t I fixed it?”
“Erik is going to die in this fucking shit hotel! I’m going to kill my friend! I’m going to kill my friend…”
“No, look, he’s fine!” David said. “I fed him, and we had a glass of orange juice, and, um, half a bottle of antihistamines and a shot of vodka and a nap!”
“Oh, my gods!”
“Johnny,” David pouted, “there was benzodiazepine and phenobarbital in that pharmacy, I am trying to be nice.” He reached into a pocket and shook a bottle hopefully, as if summoning a cat with treats. “Would you like some?”
“Will it kill me?”
“Ah.” David stuffed the bottle back into his pocket. Deep in. “Then let’s not.”
◆◇◆
They had added several more items to the list of information.
- 6. It thinks Mr. Green-Tara is a boyfriend, or at least a fling, and it seems to be willing to listen to him on that basis.
- 7. John is also behaving as if it is a boyfriend, but he may be doing so just to get it to work with him. However, he may also be stupid enough to really believe it.
- 7a. Erik seems to be trying to warn John against an attachment, but this is questionable due to his evident impairment.
- 8. According to the god, John has gotten himself into some kind of situation where the god is the only “person” he can trust or go to for help. Another point in favour of “boyfriends.”
- 9. Ibid. John made the god promise not to hurt Maggie and the god seems to take this promise seriously.
- 10. Ibid. It is “squeamish” and does not kill people, nor does it want John or Erik to die.
- 11. Ibid. It fears Maggie and tried to send her away forever.
- 11a. It likely believes it has succeeded.
- 12. Ibid. It does not seem to understand the full extent of its own abilities and may have forgotten, if only temporarily, that it is not mortal and cannot die.
- 13. Ibid. It has almost killed Erik at some point, likely due to stress or overwork, but substance abuse is also a possibility.
- 14. John, the god, and (probably) Erik know the Prokovian government is persecuting magic-users.
- 14a. They do not approve, but we do not know whether their kidnappers/associates agree.
- 15. The original David was an excellent liar, but extremely loyal to friends.
- 15a. It is likely that if the god is lying, it is doing so out of a desire to help John.
- 16. John is very definitely suicidal.
- 17. We cannot rule out a passive tracking device, but if anyone else is surveilling them, they are unwilling to intervene in an obvious emergency. Outside of their safehouse, John and Erik are alone, or expendable.
While the General was detailing that last part, they had once again diverted to an argument over whether this version of David was close enough to the original to be “basically the same person.”
“…Apparently they have been working closely with this creature for over a year and it has had plenty of time to crack open Erik’s skull like a piñata and consume every last bit of information it contains, including whatever he’s picked up with his brain tentacles and from the other gods. I don’t see how it could possibly pick up David’s drink order and dancing style and nothing about Barnaby or me! If you just let me talk to it…”
“…Then it can order you to jump off a bridge and if that doesn’t work, it’ll ask someone to throw you off!” snapped Mordecai. “Stop drinking!” He snatched the paper cup from her hand and took a sip from it himself. “They are not human beings and they do not conform to human logic — are you capable of understanding this?”
The General banged her hand on the desktop. “Are we capable of confining this conversation to known quantities before we invent and adopt conflicting metaphysical philosophies?” She cleared her throat and straightened the stiff fabric of her dress. “Hyacinth, you have not finished relating the suicide attempt. Did the god in question stop Mr. Green-Tara by issuing another command?”
“No, the gun didn’t go off,” Hyacinth said.
“That was me,” Maggie put in.
“…and David just stood there like a deer in headlights. Then he took it away, said, ‘Never do that again,’ and told John to drink a bottle of liquor, which he did, until he passed out on the floor. Which is a very David sort of thing to…”
“Please refrain!” said the General. She added another item: 18. John has been compromised.
“What?” said Mordecai. “Where are you getting…”
“Goddammit, you’re right,” Maggie said. She stood and poured herself another coffee. “Oh, shit. Even if he isn’t, he is.”
“John will comply with commands that are contrary to his desires and self-interest,” said the General. “And the god is willing to issue them.”
“And he walked off carrying a guy he knows is suicidal and thinks is his boyfriend,” Maggie said. “I buy that he didn’t have any idea just how much he could boss people around, but now he does, and he doesn’t want John to die. So far as we know, he is alone with John right now and he might tell him anything. He might tell John he doesn’t know us or Erik, or they’re two ordinary people having a goddamn vacation and nothing bad happened and none of us even exist.”
Hyacinth nodded. “He would.”
“He can’t,” Mordecai said, pacing. “No. He can’t do that, not that. Physically, he can’t pretend to be Erik. He has to leave. It’s… It’s variable…” He spread his hands, indicating a variety of sizes. “It depends on how hard he is to hold, but he can’t stay forever. If he tries it, Erik will die. I’ve… I’ve seen it.”
“You seem to know more about the rules than he does,” Maggie said, stricken. Shakily, she added a touch of vodka to her coffee. “If he tried it, how long would we have?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t…”
Ann stood and put an arm around him. “Em, you don’t have to…”
“I do! There is no one else!” He twisted away from her. “Seth held Taggart for ten days before he gave out.”
Maggie huffed a sigh and looked up with a smile. “Then we…”
“But that is meaningless!” Mordecai said. “That is a different god and a different person, under different circumstances. It’s like comparing the mileage you get out of a car with an airship. And one of ‘em got groceries in the back and the other… I don’t even know. Maybe an elephant. If he’s operating Erik in overdrive, it might even…”
“I feel it necessary to mention that Mr. Zusman is still very much alive,” the General said dryly.
“He’s alive because we had Alba with us and she pulled off a miracle,” Mordecai said. “Erik is the miracle man in this situation. Unless they have a lot of coloured people crammed in a small space like we did, they won’t find someone strong enough to put him back together if David takes him apart. Erik could be worn out and ready to die by dawn.”
“It is dawn now, Mr. Eidel,” said the General, adjusting her glasses.
It was faint, and hard to tell through the rain, but she wasn’t wrong.
Maggie spat a mouthful of adulterated coffee back into her cup. “I’m getting a taxi. Do you think that little shit at the front desk will get me a taxi? It’ll be light enough to see when I get there…”
Ann edged away from Mordecai as if abandoning a fragile object on a high shelf. “I think I’d better come with you, dear. Just so he doesn’t, um, flee from you.”
Maggie had already stomped back into her boots and coat. “Fine,” she said.
“Don’t forget your makeup,” said the General. She caught herself with a shudder. “That is not a rare phrase — it only tastes like one.”
Maggie rifled her pockets and held up a waterproof mascara. “Come on, let’s go.”
“I’ll be right back,” Ann said delicately, practically mouthing the words. She scurried out as if it were an infant’s nursery.
The infant in question wobbled and sat down on the bed. He didn’t look down. He probably would’ve sat on the floor, if that had been where he found himself.
“Imposter or no,” Hyacinth said near him, “I promise you, David Valentine is a coward who loves life more than he ever loved a human being. He will push, and scream, and lie, but the man is a cockroach. We had to stamp on him. And look what happened.”
“The man is a god,” Mordecai said numbly. “Erik isn’t.”
Hyacinth shrugged, snorted, and began to make herself yet another drink.
◆◇◆
“So,” David said weakly. “So… The only way out of this that leaves our soul even a little bit intact is… Rolling over and allowing Erik’s family to collect him as they see fit? Because… Even if we know the consequences, that makes it just slightly less our fault?”
John made a series of noises, muffled by the pillows, which may have been an affirmative followed by footnotes, or a reaction to being prodded awake with a sharpened stick while stuporously depressed.
David leafed through the blankets in search of the stick, or the cat, before sitting beside him again, looking down and aside. “I sent Maggie away — I did not hurt her — but the way you talk about them, that won’t make any difference.”
John spoke into the pillows. “Then you’ll just send the rest of them away too!”
David turned and shifted his weight back to his feet, alight with green fire. “All right, so what if I do? You think I would? I know I can! I’ll send every last one of them away and we’ll just keep saving lives and having fun forever, is that so terrible? Is that so fucking terrible?
“I tell you something, Johnny, you are going to stop caring about this idiot,” he clutched both hands to his chest, “and his idiot family right now. It’s better for you, it’s better for them, it’s better for all of us! We’re going to stop killing ourselves trying to do two things at once and go live somewhere safe with a beach and be happy together. And we won’t mind about anything else! We’re going to be the sort of people… We-we’re going to be the sort of people…”
He sat again, limply, still glowing. John sat up and put a hand on his arm.
“We,” David said. “We’re going to be the sort of shitty people who don’t care how much we hurt our friends.”
John leaned in as if to kiss him on the mouth.
David pushed him back and walked away.
“Don’t. Stay there. I can’t do it.” He leaned over the stub of kitchen counter and dropped his head, Erik’s head, as if he were about to be sick in the sink. “I can’t do it. I can’t.”
“You can’t go live on a beach and be happy?” John said faintly.
“I can, but I wouldn’t be very happy living with another version of me,” David said. He turned, with a wan smile. “I’m not really a nice person.”
“I love you,” John said.
“Don’t say stupid things like that,” David muttered. “Not to me.”
He smiled again, and the dim glow brightened. “Nevermind all that. Forget it. We care very much about Erik and his family and it’s going to be fine. It’s going to go just like we planned. We just… We had a bit of a narrow scrape, and we were almost involved in a police massacre, but we escaped in the nick of time. We’re very lucky that way. But you were having anxiety about it, so I made you drink until you passed out, because that’s the sort of bastard I am. I called Billie and Matvey on the glowy paper while you were out, because I don’t want to deal with you. Sick people are boring. In the meantime, I’ve run Erik ragged, so you give him a nice long rest before you call me again, right?”
“Oh,” John said. “Right.” He stood, wobbled, and thumped back in the bed. “What the hell did you give me? Chai and turpentine?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” David shooed a hand. The glow went out. “Just a bottle of whatever they had at the bar. I can mess people around however I want now, I’ve figured it out!”
“Don’t you dare do that to Erik or anyone he cares about,” John said.
David laughed airily. “Well, I shall try my very best not to. Will that do?”
“No,” John said sharply.
“Johnny, if you don’t lower your expectations, you’re going to worry yourself into…”
The glowing paper on the desk emitted a cheerful chirp, followed by another.
“Well, thank gods,” David said. He drew out a pen with a flourish. “I’ve had just about enough of this.” He answered the latest message in exuberant script, We are alone, you’re safe to port in, and punctuated it with a little heart.
“Is that breakfast?” John said, horrified.
“Oh, it’s several breakfasts. It’s fine. It’s fine!”
◆◇◆
“Hyacinth.” The General drew her aside. “I do not wish to overtax Mr. Eidel’s emotional resilience or Miss Rose’s…” She sniffed. “Whatever-it-is. But in your estimation, provided my daughter proves this matter is still a going concern…”
“It will be,” Hyacinth muttered.
“I concur,” the General said. “So I would like your opinion. Has last night’s fiasco provided us with enough information to begin planning a rescue?”
Hyacinth went back through the list of points, written on the air and glowing faintly. “I think so, but I think I know the guy.”
“It is possible you do,” said the General. She gave a curt nod. “It seems to me, whatever we wind up doing is going to be utterly ridiculous. We must, among other things, account for immobilizing magic gumballs, a toxic homosexual relationship, and a being who can command us to fling ourselves in front of a city bus. This is bound to be, as my daughter would say, ‘a total shitshow.’ Do you agree?”
Hyacinth allowed a shrug. “Probably.”
The General huffed a little sigh, resigned. “Then I doubt a good night’s sleep would improve our talent for insanity, and it is likely we will be waiting up for Magnificent for quite some time. Will you please write down the preliminary details so we may begin planning now? And, if you can do so discreetly, I would like to add one more, regarding Erik.”
“I think if he’s dead, there’s no helping it, and no point writing it down,” Hyacinth said. She pushed up her reading glasses with an irritable sniff.
“No. And so, please note — discreetly — ‘Erik is compromised too.’”
“What?” The glasses slid down again. “How do you figure?”
“You saw Erik summon a god, without protest or coercion, merely because John asked him to. This occurred moments after the previous god informed him in no uncertain terms that my daughter was present and willing to take him home. Whatever he is doing, or thinks he is doing, he is not ready to stop yet.”
“Damn it,” said Hyacinth. She scrawled with the pen, 19. ERIK IS COMPROMISED TOO.
◆◇◆
After Greg’s departure, Matvey was eating avocado toast, happily enough. Billie had just poured the Bloody Mary down the sink, glowering with disapproval. Mashed Potatoes appeared to disapprove of all of them; they weren’t giving her attention anymore, or even any mice.
David bowed, collected the black bag from the windowsill, and excused himself to the bathroom. “Pardon me, but it looks very undignified, and I don’t wish to be upsetting.”
He shut the door, and set the bag in the sink. He sprung the safety caps on both pill bottles, took one of each, and dumped the rest down the toilet. The bottles themselves went into the trash, with a wadded piece of wet tissue on top.
He addressed his reflection in the mirror. “Don’t screw this up, do you hear me? I don’t know what you want, or what you think you want, but don’t screw it up. For his sake.”
He opened the bathroom door and leaned out with a sheepish smile. “So sorry. He cries every time. I forgot. Matvey, will you lend a hand?” He held up the toilet roll, freed from its stand. “It’s strictly physical, don’t worry. You can bring your toast if you like!”
“That is the biggest fucking crow I’ve ever seen,” Billie said, staring out the window.
“It’s a raven,” John said absently. “They have a nest somewhere around here. Leave it alone, Potato likes birdwatching. David needs another wig. I don’t know what the hell happened to it, but he says he wants a blond one…”
◆◇◆
“Turn on radio,” said the spy. “Just do it! Do you hear what’s happening? They did this! I don’t know how, but… Damn it, someone is calling, I have no time. You must trust me. Somehow, some way, whatever it is, they have done it!”
