Jack Shadow

by Graeme Smith

  “And the….” Prowess looked round the room. At the spares. At the stains. At the hooks and blades and other toys. “And the this? The however-many-hundreds of those?” She pointed at the spares.

  “Collateral damage, P.” I shrugged again. It was becoming a habit.

  “Ah. Right.” The Shape-shifter looked at the humans. Then she shrugged too. “Oh, well. So what do we do now, Jack?”

  “I think….” I walked over to Liz where she was sat tied tight and gagged. I’d cut the seat out of a chair and bound her to it, over a bowl. For necessary functions. “I think we wait.”

  “Wait?”

  “For things to work out.”

  “Work out? Jack. What am I here? Your straight-man?” Prowess looked down. “Er, woman?”

  “P. Look at her. Would you say she’s beautiful?”

  P looked. “Well, not bad. The nose could do with some work, and her, er … those … well, she could maybe use a few inches of….” Prowess flushed. “Yes, Jack. She’s beautiful. So what? It’s the necklace, right?”

  “What necklace, P?” The thing with naked beautiful women is, they’re naked. Not ‘naked apart from’, for some variable value of ‘apart from’. They’re naked. And Liz was naked. “See, I wondered about that.” I looked round for a knife, then pulled one from my boot. At least I knew where mine had been. And in who. “How the necklace she doesn’t have on was keeping her from looking about three hundred years past her use-by date. So I figured….” I slit a line down Liz’s arm. The blood spilled red—but it glowed. Glowed green. “I figured she was trying something new.”

  Horn and Tears wouldn’t work. They only take you back, and this was in our future. So we waited. And waited. Until matters took their course. From the look on Liz’s face, it hurt. I figured it was new. Well, Liz-new. She’d still been wearing the necklace when I first saw her, five years ago. I wondered what it took. Once a day? Twice? I had a feeling Liz didn’t have to worry about fiber in her diet. But eventually it was done. And I was right. Things really were a whole lot messier. But once I’d fished round some in the bowl under Liz’s chair, and washed it clean, I had it. Worn, and rather more rounded than most. Almost smooth. As thought it had been sanded down. Or dissolved.

  A single emerald.

  Prowess wrinkled her nose at the stone. She sure wasn’t going to sniff it, and even more sure wasn’t going to lay a finger on it. “Eeew. As beauty treatments go Jack, that one’s never going to catch on. So now what?”

  I tossed the emerald in my hand. “Now we wait. Some more.” It didn’t take long—a day. And the beautiful once-a-Countess was quite clearly not quite so beautiful. The hair, greyer. The skin, duller. So I got my knife and the emerald, and sliced. This time, the arm was my own. I let my blood flow over the emerald. It sank in, soaked deep into the emerald’s heart. I brushed the gem over Liz’s lips—and nothing happened. Which was pretty much what I’d expected. So I grabbed Prowess, and sliced her arm.

  “Ow!” Prowess wasn’t impressed. But her blood flowed, ran over the gem. After the stone absorbed it, I brushed it over Liz’s lips—and the emerald glowed. In a moment, the grey fled from her hair, her skin tone fresh and rose.

  “Very clever, Shadow. Very clever indeed.” The voice was familiar. Too familiar. “Oh. And by the way. That hurt.” A rope of shifted muscle flew out from Prowess and smacked me round the back of the head. The only problem was, it wasn’t the Prowess I’d slashed. Because now there were two of them. The new Prowess who’d appeared in the corner of the room grinned. “No hard feelings Jack? Never mind. You’ve got work to do. Say hello to Berlin for me.” She winked at me. “Be seeing you, Jack.” Then she was gone.

  A bad day was getting worse. I just didn’t know for who yet.

  * * * * *

  February 27th, 1920. Berlin

  On the Bendlerbrücke, the Landwehrkanal flowed beneath us. The timing was going to be tight, but I figured it was do-able. “Can you take enough, so we can ask any questions we have to later?”

  Prowess’ eyes were wild. “Jack? Who was that?”

  I sighed. Some days, all the answers do is make more questions. “Far as I could tell, P, it was you.”

  “Me? But I’m me!”

  I sighed again. Time’s a bitch. Especially when it’s not me bitching it. “P, I figure we’ll get to that.” I had an idea. Making it make sense could come later.

  Prowess shook her head. Maybe to clear it, maybe just to say none of this was happening. She swallowed, then squared her shoulders. “So is this flat rate, or am I on commission? Never mind, Shadow. What do you want her as? Another vegetable?”

  “Not this time. More meat, less potatoes. This one’s going to be a mix.” I could hear someone coming onto the bridge. It was time. The woman walked onto the bridge and climbed to the edge. She readied herself to jump. I slugged her, and grabbed her. “Some of this—not too much. And….” I ran what I remembered through my head “…and Nicholas.”

  “Nicholas?” Prowess looked puzzled. Then light dawned in her eyes. “Ohhh. I get it. Clever Jack.”

  I shrugged. I’m a gnat. A spoon. It’s what I do.

  Prowess focused on the woman I’d slugged. Then on Liz. She looked at me, and nodded. I switched Liz’s clothes with those the woman had been wearing and threw Liz off the bridge. I knew the patrol was close enough to hear the splash.

  * * * * *

  At least 350 had a table. I pulled my knife from my boot again. If you do it quick, and in the right place, they don’t even get time to scream. I grabbed a bottle of Horn.

  * * * * *

  1984. Charlottesville, Virginia USA

  Some more Unicorn Horn and Tears, and a teleport dropped me in Charlottesville. The locks at the Martha Jefferson Hospital weren’t any trouble. I found the right file and checked where I needed to look in the lab. I switched what I found in the lab with a bit of Franziska’s intestine she didn’t need any more. Not that she needed any of it—not now. Then I took me across town. The locks at Jack (I was starting to wonder if I should change my name) Manahan’s were even easier than the Hospital’s. The house lights were dark. I slipped in, slipped the envelope with the hairs into the book, and slipped out. Which left just one thing to do. I drank.

  * * * * *

  1616. Ecsed, Hungary

  More Horn, to make sure the age was right, another teleport, and I was there. I cleared out the dried clay—all that remained of the golem Vlad had created—and put Franziska to her final rest. And for the first time, there really was a body in the Báthory family crypt.

  * * * * *

  Sometimes that’s how it is. When all the things you thought you knew turn out to be wrong, you have a choice. You can either change what you think you know—or change the things that make you wrong. It’s a decision. A choice. An Answer. And either way, everything is different. Everything—and everyone.

  We’re nearly there. And then? It’ll all be over. One way or another.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Time to Why

  Prowess knew how to get to Carnegie Hall. Maybe she just didn’t need the practice. When I got back to 350, she was still there. “Talk to me, Shadow.”

  I was pretty sure I knew what she wanted to talk about. I even thought I knew some of the answers. But I was pretty sure it wasn’t the right time for answers. On the other hand, tying a Shape-shifter to a chair and waiting for something to happen so it could be the right time didn’t seem like a good idea. Ropes don’t really give Shape-shifters many problems. So as the air shimmered behind Prowess, I did the only thing I could think of. I kissed her.

  “What? Jack! Mmph….” She was either going to beat the crap out of me, or kiss me. Either way I figured she’d be distracted enough for the Prowess appearing behind her to do whatever she’d come here to do. Which turned out to be slipping a needle into the neck of the Prowess I was kissing. Or not kissing, as she froze solid.

  “Damn.” The new Prowess looked at the frozen on
e. “I wish I hadn’t had to do that.”

  I discreetly ran my hands over my leather, just in case. “Why not?”

  “Because if things work out, I’ll never know what kissing you is really like, Shadow.”

  I shrugged. “So. Who the hell are you?”

  Prowess ran her hands over her body. Half way through, they changed to feet. “You know damn well who I am, Jack. But we’re wasting time.”

  I shrugged again. “Guess we are. So who are you, then?”

  The look on Prowess’ face was unfamiliar. I’d seen her angry, I’d seen her lost in her music. But I’d never really seen her sad. “I’m dead, Jack. Or at least—I am if things work out.” She slipped something between the lips of frozen Prowess, and held her hand out. I took what was in it and drank.

  * * * * *

  Up-Ahead

  They do it to you once. After you join, and after they’re done training you, they do it. One night someone comes. Maybe someone you know, maybe someone you never saw before. But they know things. Things nobody else should know—about you, what you’ve done. And when they’ve convinced you, they take you. Up-Ahead. Way Up-Ahead. They show you the ‘why’. They show you all the happy, comfortable people. All the people busy not being hungry, not breaking laws. All the sensible, not-crazy rational people not believing in madness like Unicorn Horns and Virgin’s Tears. Or Shifters. Or dragons. Or The Dragon. Nobody asking any questions, because everybody was taken care of. And then they bring you back. They bring you back and tell you if you ever tell anybody, they’ll kill you. And that now you’re a gnat. A spoon. And they really will—kill anyone who talks. But they take you so you can see it’s worth it. What you do. So you can care.

  Caring. I’ve heard of it. Me? Like I said, it’s just a job.

  So Up-Ahead wasn’t all strange. I’d been here. Once. And now it was twice. At least this time we were in 350, so we had some time. I raised an eyebrow at the Prowess who wasn’t frozen, and nodded at the one who was. “I guess it didn’t work. The other times, I mean.”

  Not-frozen-Prowess was still looking sad. She shrugged. “I always knew you were smart, Jack. No. I tried it with just you, but apparently I’m—er, she’s….” Not-frozen-Prowess looked confused. “Damn, Jack. How do you keep all this straight? Well, it seems I’m stubborn. When you came back, I didn’t believe a word of it. I wouldn’t do what….” Not-frozen-Prowess clammed up. But she wasn’t doing bad, for someone who hadn’t been trained for it.

  “No sweat, P. I get it. So you came back a bit further. For both of us, this time. I’m being nudged, right?”

  “Well I don’t get it!” Whatever Not-frozen-Prowess had hit Frozen-Prowess with, it was wearing off. Ropes of Not-frozen-anymore-Prowess (I made a mental note to come up with better names) spun out and twisted round the other Prowess. “And what did you do to me, bitch?” Not-frozen-any-more-Prowess blushed. “Oh, sorry Jack. That’s a Bad Word. I mean….”

  “Don’t sweat it, P. But do me a favor?”

  Prowess’ neck stretched and her teeth grew. Her head flew over to her other self and began to bite. A new mouth appeared in her left leg. “What’s that, Jack?”

  “Stop beating yourself up over it, huh?”

  It’s what I do. I’m a spoon. And if you’re a gnat, a spoon, you wonder. If anybody ever did it to you. This time, I didn’t have to wonder. “This is you, P. But it’s not you. Because this is you from Up-Ahead. From your future.”

  “From my future.” Now-P looked at Up-Ahead-P. “Then I’ve let myself go to heck, Jack.”

  I couldn’t see a hair’s difference between the two of them. But I figured Now-P was just trying to find her feet. I winked at Up-Ahead-P. “Guess you’ll have to remember not to next time, P.”

  “At least my taste in clothes improved.” Up-Ahead-P maybe hadn’t seen the wink. Or maybe being more stylish than yourself is a big thing for women. Even if they’re not women.

  “Ladies?” If I didn’t get them distracted, 350 was going to be full of more mouths and more hitting than there was room for. I looked at Up-Ahead-P. “You didn’t bring you here to talk dress sense, P.”

  “No.” Up-Ahead-P was looking sad again. That probably wasn’t a good thing. I just didn’t know for who yet. “She has to … I have to … to see something.”

  There’s a reason The Dragon spend so much time training gnats. It saves time later, when the words get difficult. I figured I’d give her a hand. Or some words, at least. “Me too, huh?”

  “Yes. Well, no. I mean, I remember you were there. But it’s me. Her. If I—if she—doesn’t see it, that’s it. It’s over, Jack. Or rather, it never….”

  Damn. Sometimes I hate being right. “Hold it, P. Do you remember telling me?”

  Up-Ahead looked confused. “No, I … but….”

  “No buts, P. See, if you change what you remember, then this won’t be happening. It’ll be different. Does it need to be different, P?” That’s how it is. When you’re stirring the History pot. You nudge. You change—but not the big things. So history remembers Gavrilo Princip shot Archduke Ferdinand. Nobody remembers Ferdinand’s driver, who took a wrong turn at the Latin Bridge. Of course, before I slugged the real driver and took his place, he didn’t.

  “No, Jack. It needs to be just like it is.” Up-Ahead-Prowess was still sad, and she was looking at me. And Up-Ahead-Prowess told us where we had to go. It was like most things I got to do. Just a walk in the park. Up-Ahead said it was going to be easy. Dead easy.

  Sometimes, the best way to lie is to tell the truth.

  If you’re going to get mugged or shot in New York, make sure you’re in Central Park. If you can, make sure it’s on the east side. We weren’t there to get mugged, but 100th and Fifth Avenue was still where we were going. Just not the parts of Mount Sinai most patients saw. Or maybe they all did, in the Up-Ahead. In the end. All those well cared for, comfortable uncomplaining people who would have told me they lived in the best of all possible worlds.

  All those cattle.

  The beds stretched as far as I could see. The tubes ran red as the machines sucked what they wanted from the occupants. Every so often, a wall panel would open, and a bed with a now shriveled occupant would trundle back into the hole. Then it would come out again, and the occupant would be different. Different, and juicy. Full. The smell of burnt flesh rippled from the holes each time they opened.

  “What the hell…?” Now-P didn’t seem as upset as she had been by Bad Words.

  I pulled Liz’s emerald out of my pocket and showed it to her again. “Think about it, P.”

  “But there were only two of them!” I knew Now-P got it. She just didn’t want to.

  I shrugged. “It probably takes more.” Another bed trundled back into the wall.

  “More?” Now-Prowess wrinkled her nose as the smell of burned person rolled out. Then she turned her head. I was almost impressed. It takes a lot to turn a Shifter’s stomach. From the retching sound, Prowess might have to make herself a new one.

  “More blood. Or bigger baths.” I looked at Up-Ahead-Prowess. “So what did he do? Grind the stone down? Little specks for his followers? And—” I nodded to the endless rows of beds.

  “You are clever indeed, whoever you are.” He didn’t look a day different from the last time I’d seen him, in Liz’s memory. Wladislaus Dragwlya, vaivoda partium Transalpinarum. Vlad Dracul. I guessed he’d never heard of Freddie Mercury, because I had a feeling living forever was pretty high on his personal agenda. But what was interesting was, for someone with strong ideas about me being dead in my Now, Up-Ahead-he had no idea who I was. “Very clever. Maybe that’s why Lord Barbas told me to be here today.” He shrugged. “Never mind.” He shrugged, and gestured to the guards with him, each with a glowing green speck embedded in their forehead. “Do feel free to kill them, my friends. All three of them. In fact—I insist on it.” Vlad turned, and left the room.

  “Jack?” If Up-Ahead-Prowess’ eyes weren’t crying, her voi
ce was making up for it. “I can’t keep them off long.”

  I ran my hands over my leather. I shrugged. “There’s only ten of them, P.”

  “I know.” Up-Ahead-P could have done sad for the Olympics. “But we tried that, Jack. It … it didn’t work. So this time … it’s time for you to leave, Jack.”

  “We can’t leave you here! You’ll … I’ll … they’ll kill you!” Now-P wasn’t sad. She was furious. “Do something, Jack!”

  “He can’t. Or he can. Or rather, you can. You’ll know. We’ll know. When the time comes.” As Vlad’s team started to advance, Up-Ahead-P started to bulge. There were teeth. There were tentacles. “You see, if either of you die I never exist anyway. And if you don’t? This now never exists. And they never kill me.” Up-Ahead-P looked at me. “Damn, Jack. How the hell do you keep this stuff straight?” And as Prowess broke the link holding us to the Up-Ahead, a tornado of shape-shifting fury tore into Vlad’s guards.

  * * * * *

  I keep a calendar on the wall at 350. The day doesn’t matter, but I change it every year. The one on the wall this time said we were back. The look in P’s eyes said she was scared stiff—and pissed. Me? I still had a dragon who wanted a necklace, and a Now-Dragon who wanted me dead. And an Up-Ahead-Dragon who’d never seen me before. Who didn’t remember me. I’m a gnat. I know how that happens. But whoever wanted me out had forgotten something. Because even if it’s just a job, I do my job right. I'm the guy you passed in the street, the guy you never saw. But anyone I look for, I find. Find them—and the rest’s history.

  Nobody nudges Jack Shadow.

  A bad day had got worse—but at least now I knew who it was going to be worse for. Because I didn’t know forever from donuts. But Dragon, Fallen Angels, Hell or high water—if anybody was going to die, or even never to exist, it wasn’t going to be me.