making out their stupid lives meant something.
The cops were her only worry. Even given the fact less than a quarter of the targets reported the assault and theft, it wouldn’t take an AI to spot the pattern. But Banneth would know if there was any sort of operation being mounted. Banneth knew fucking everything going down in Edmonton. It was scary, sometimes. Courtney knew some of the sect’s acolytes didn’t really believe in God’s Brother, they were just too shit-scared of Banneth to step out of line.
“This is it,” she told the man. They’d stopped outside the worn entrance of a two-century-old skyscraper. A couple of genuine students were sitting on the steps, taking charges from a power inhaler. They looked at Courtney with glazed uncaring eyes. She pulled the man past and into the foyer.
In the elevator he made his first tentative move. Going for a kiss, which she let him have. Tongue straight down her throat. He didn’t have time for anything more; the room they’d hijacked for the night was on the third floor. Its real owner lost somewhere in the arcology as the black stimulant program shorted out her neurones.
“What are you studying?” he asked once they were inside.
That caught her short. She didn’t have a story in place for that—he wasn’t supposed to care. Nothing to help here, either. The room was a usual student’s jumble, badly lit with fleks and clothes everywhere, a decades- old desktop block on the one shabby table. Courtney didn’t read too good, so she couldn’t tell what the tiny print on the flek cases said.
Easy way out. She shoved the shoulder straps down, and let her tits bobble free. That shut him up. It took him about thirty seconds to push her down on the bed, then one hand was up her skirt while the other was squeezing a tit crudely. She groaned like it was good, hoping Billy-Joe and the others got a fucking move on. Sometimes the shits waited and let the man fuck her. Watching the show through some sensor or peep hole, getting off on the scene and laughing quietly. They always claimed it looked less like a set-up if they came in afterwards. Banneth laughed too if she complained.
The man’s hand was tugging at her panties. Mouth all hot and slobbering over a nipple. Courtney tried not to grimace. Then she was shivering, as if the conditioning duct had suddenly dumped a shitload of ice into the air.
He gave out a single puzzled grunt, pulling his head back. They looked at each other for an instant, both equally bewildered. Then a white hand clamped over his gelled hair, yanking his head away from her. He yelled in shock and pain as he was pulled off her and flung over the room. His flabby body hit the opposite wall with a loud crash, and crumpled to the floor. A figure in a black robe was standing at the side of the bed, blank hood tipped down towards Courtney. She drew in a breath to shriek, knowing fucking well this wasn’t Billy-Joe or any of the others.
“Don’t,” the figure warned. The darkness inside the hood withered to reveal the face.
“Quinn!” Courtney squeaked. A smile flicked her lips. “Quinn? God’s Brother, where the fuck did you come from? I thought you got transported.”
“Long story. Tell you in a minute.” He turned and went over to the quivering man, grabbed his head and pulled back viciously. The man’s throat was exposed along its entire length, skin stretched tight.
“Quinn, what are you . . . Urrgh!” Courtney watched in a kind of interested shock as a couple of sharp fangs slid out of Quinn’s mouth. He winked at her as he lowered his head to bite the man’s neck. She could see Quinn’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he sucked down the blood, several drops dribbled past his lips. The man was whimpering in high-pitched terror. “Oh fuck, Quinn, that’s disgusting.”
Quinn stood up, grinning, and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood. “No it’s not. It’s the final conquest. Blood is the best food a human can have. Think on it; every nutrient you need all nicely refined and cooked ready for you. It’s your right to take it from the followers of the false lord you defeat. Use them to make you strong, Courtney, replenish your body.” He looked down at the fat man who was clutching the neck wound desperately. Blood was pouring through his fingers.
Courtney giggled at the feeble gurgling sounds the man was making. “You’ve changed.”
“So have you.”
“Yeah!” She cupped her tits and lifted them. “Grew these for a start. Good, aren’t they?”
“God’s Brother, Courtney, you are a total slut.”
She straightened a leg and dangled her shoe from one toe. “I like what I am, Quinn. That’s my serpent beast, remember? Dignity is a weakness, along with all the other crap on the middle-class wish list.”
“You did listen to the sermons.”
“Sure did.”
“So how’s Banneth?”
“Same, I guess.”
“Not for long. I’m back now.” He held out his hands, making simple gestures. The room began to change; the walls darkening, furniture turning to matt black cast iron. Manacles appeared on the metal railings at the head of the bed.
Courtney looked round wildly at the manifestations, and scrambled backwards over the crumpled duvet, cramming herself into a corner away from Quinn. “Shit, you’re a possessed!”
“Not me,” he said softly. “I possess. I am the one God’s Brother has chosen as his Messiah. This power the returning souls have depends on the force of their will. And nobody believes in themselves more than me. That’s how I regained control of my body, through the belief He gave me in myself. Now I’m stronger than a hundred of those snivelling lost dickheads.”
Courtney unfolded her legs and peered forward. “It is you, isn’t it. I mean, like really you. You’ve got your own body and everything.”
“You never were very quick, were you? But then, it was never your brain the sect wanted.”
“Were you in New York?” she asked in quiet admiration. “I saw all the fighting on the AV. The police killed skyscrapers full of people they were so scared.”
“I was there a while back. I was also in Paris, Bombay, and Johannesburg, which the police don’t know about yet. Then I gave in to myself, and came home.”
“I’m glad you did.” Courtney bounded off the bed, and flung her arms round him, licking from his ear to his mouth. “Welcome back.”
“You will follow me now, not Banneth.”
“Yes.” She slid her tongue over the tacky blood congealing on his chin, tasting its salt.
“You will obey.”
“Of course.”
Quinn focused on the thought currents in her brain, and knew she was telling the truth. Not that he’d expected anything else from Courtney. He opened the door and let the other three in. Billy-Joe and Rav he knew from before; it hadn’t taken much to cow them. Five people standing made the little student room badly cramped, their breath helping to heat it up. Fast breathing which came from nerves and excitement. They were all eager to see what Quinn would do next.
“I came back to Earth so I could bring down the Night,” he told them. “You’ll play a big part in that, and so will the possessed. I’m going to leave a nest of you in every arcology. But Edmonton is special for me, because Banneth’s here.”
“What you going to do to her?” Billy-Joe asked.
Quinn patted the slender youth’s wire-like arm. “The worst I can imagine,” he said. “And I’ve spent a lot of time imagining.”
Billy-Joe’s mouth split into an oafish grin. “All right!”
Quinn looked down at the fat man. He was gasping like a fish. Blood had formed an enormous puddle on the scuffed tile floor. “You’re dying,” Quinn said cheerfully. “Only one way to save you now.” Fields of energy shifted at his command, exerting a specific pressure against reality. The cries of the souls began to filter out of the beyond. “Courtney, hurt him.”
She shrugged to the others, and kicked the man hard in the crotch. He shivered, eyes bugging before the lids began to flutter uncontrollably. An extra squirt of blood pumped out of the wound.
“And again,” Quinn directed mildly. In his mind, he was dictating terms to the lost souls who clustered round the weak rent between universes. Hearing the pleas of those who claimed they were worthy. Making his
