'Really?' said Walker. 'A whole mansion, floating in mid air, over a hole? I don't think so. There are always stories, John; you should know that. I came up here, just the once, to see for myself. And to make sure nothing was coming back up out of the hole… It's a bad place now and probably always will be, but that's all. No ghosts, no apparitions, no distant screams from the Griffins burning in Hell. A really quite spectacular view, though, I think you'll agree.'
'You don't… feel anything here?' I said.
He pursed his lips briefly. 'A sense of horror, and lingering evil. About what you'd expect.'
'You must feel right at home, then.'
He gave me a stern look. 'Now, that was just rude. Behave yourself. The Authorities sent the Salvation Army Sisterhood up here, a while back, to run some really heavy-duty exor cisms; but I can't honestly say I feel any difference.'
'There are those,' I said carefully, 'who say that if you stay here long enough, the Devil will rise up out of Hell and offer you the same deal he made with the Griffin. All your heart's desires, in return for your soul. Is that why you've brought me up here, Walker? To offer me a deal?'
He laughed and indicated the whole of the Nightside spread out below us with one sweep of his arm. 'All this could be yours, John, if you'll agree to be me. Take up my role. Keep the peace, whatever it takes.'
'But what price would I have to pay?' I said, still looking at him rather than the Nightside. 'I'd have to do what you do, think like you think, become the kind of man you are. And I think-I'd rather die.'
'I've done this for so long, John,' said Walker. He sounded suddenly tired, and old. 'I've carried this weight for longer than you've been alive. All the things I've done, and none of it for me. Never any of it for me! Dying doesn't bother me; it'll be good to get a little rest at last. But how could I ever rest, knowing I'd left the Nightside without a steady hand on the tiller? Without a proper successor? And who else is there but you, John, who could take over from me? Who else would you name?'
'Julien Advent,' I said. 'Yes,' said Walker. 'A good choice. A good man. The Great Victorian Adventurer, come through Time to be a hero here, too. Yes; I did consider him. But as a part of the new Authorities, he's too busy making policy to enforce it. And besides, the knight in cold armour has always been a strictly honourable man. He can't know-the Authorities can't ever know-what must sometimes be done in their name.'
'All right,' I said. 'Let's go in the opposite direction. How about Razor Eddie, Punk God of the Straight Razor? The most distressing agent for Good the Good ever had? He's spent most of his life pursuing and punishing the wicked.'
Walker smiled sadly. 'The population of the Nightside would plummet.'
'True,' I said.
'I'm dying, John,' said Walker. 'I hate to keep reminding you, but time is not on my side. I need your answer. Now.'
'You already know it,' I said. 'I don't want your job. I protect people from people like you. I know what your job leads to. I watched you murder your oldest friend in cold blood!'
'I have always been able to do the hard, unpleasant, necessary things.'
'That's it? That's your justification? That it's not what you do, but why you do it?'
'Exactly! The end justifies the means.'
'Only sometimes,' I said. 'And only some ends, and some means. I have always drawn a line I will not cross, no matter what, because to cross that line would mean betraying who I am.'
'And what is that?' said Walker. 'An honourable man?'
'Sometimes,' I said. 'The difference between you and me… is that you believe in protecting the System, and I believe in protecting people from the System.'
'People!' said Walker. 'Never put your trust in people, John; they'll always let you down. You have to put your faith in something bigger. Something that will last.'
'The System?' I said. 'There is no System, no State; just us. Men and women, struggling to get by, pursuing their own little desires and accomplishments. It's people who keep the wheels turning, Walker. We don't all want to rule the world, only the chance to live in peace in our own little part of it.'
'We may all be cogs in the machine,' Walker said calmly. 'But some cogs are more important than others. They achieve more, and so they matter more, and they must be protected. Sometimes at the expense of certain minor cogs.'
'Is their pain any less? Their deaths any less final? Do their children suffer and miss them any less?'
'It always comes back to you and your father, doesn't it, John?'
'You and Mark sacrificed my father, for the sake of your careers!' I said. And my voice sounded cold and vicious, even to me. 'You broke him, ruined him, destroyed him. But who was it saved us all, in the Lilith War? You? Mark? No; my father sacrificed himself to save everyone.'
'We all sacrifice for what we believe in,' said Walker. 'Will you sacrifice the bitterness of your past? Your blink ered, limiting sentimentality… for real responsibility? You say you want to protect the people of the Nightside; well, this is your chance. Your chance to stand between the people and the Authorities; to punish the wicked, stamp out corruption, make the world run as it should. Think of all the good you could do, with real power to back you up.'
'Power,' I said. 'It always comes down to power. To be able to say, Do what I tell you, Whether I'm right or not. Power tends to corrupt, said a wise man, and absolute power tends to corrupt absolutely. The Nightside is living proof of that. I couldn't do your job without becoming you, Walker. And for me that would be a fate worse than death.'
'Ah, well,' said Walker. 'I had to try. I knew you'd never see sense, but I had to try. You always were far too much like your father. I didn't want to do this, John, really I didn't… But unfortunately for you, I have a backup plan. I always have a backup plan. Do you know what this is?'
He held up a gleaming high-tech circlet for me to see. In the cold moonlight it looked like a crown of thorns, made out of steel and glass and diamonds. The more I looked at it, the more fiercely it blazed, until I had to look away.
'This,' Walker said proudly, 'is the time-travel device the Collector acquired recently. Not sure where he found it, some obscure alternate world or future time-line… but this really is something rather special. It was designed to let you travel in Time without interfering by putting your thoughts inside the head of any individual, at any Time. The perfect observer, of Time Past, Present, and Future. Very noble, I'm sure. But I have a more practical use for it. This is why I had to kill the Collector; so I could get my hands on this device. I knew he'd never give it up voluntarily. This is power, you see. Real power. To step inside anyone's head and take over. To drive them like cars and make them do or say anything.'
'You didn't kill Mark because you were afraid to leave him running around loose,' I said. 'You killed him because he was in the way.'
'Quite,' said Walker. 'I needed you to get me in there, because the Collector didn't trust me any more. So I told you what you wanted to hear, a simple, plausible story, and off you went like a good little hound on the scent. And all I had to do was follow you.'
'You haven't a clue where Tommy Oblivion is, have you?' I said.
'Of course not. Why should I care about some minor private eye who never did anything that mattered? Glad he's gone. I have more important things on my mind. Do pay attention, John! This is the last conversation we're ever going to have. Because, you see, with this marvellous little device, I don't need you any more. Or at least, not as such. This device will put me inside your head. Since you wouldn't agree to take my place, I'll take yours. I will become you and dispose of you in my old body in this handy bottomless pit. As you, I will then take over my old position and continue my work. I'll have to kill off all the people who know you well, of course, even the ones I approve of; but it shouldn't be too difficult. They'll trust your face and your voice, right up to the point where they realise they shouldn't have. It won't be the first innocent blood on my hands, after all. Comes with the job.'
'Yet another reason why I don't want it,' I said.
Walker advanced slowly on me, holding the device out before him. 'You failed the test, John. I gave you every chance. But unfortunately, you're just not worthy. Far too limited in your thinking and far too sentimental. You're not what the Nightside needs. I am. I can't die, John. I've far too much left to do.'
He lifted the circlet with both hands, as though to crown himself with it, only to discover at the last moment that he'd forgotten he was still wearing his bowler hat. It was so much a part of his outfit, so much a part of his
