Fall

by Rod Rees

  ‘That’s just conspiracy crap, Oddie. Just the Polly nutters giving it a stir.’

  ‘Oh, I know that, Burl,’ answered Oddie, ‘and I know that the official version for all the changes seen in Norma Williams is that they’re a consequence of her having found Jesus, but some of it isn’t easy to explain away. Like the way she’s suddenly become left-handed.’

  ‘That’s to be expected,’ agreed Ella. ‘Dupes are the mirror image of their Real World doppelgängers.’

  ‘And then there’s the other weird rumours,’ Oddie continued, ‘like she’s taken to drinking blood.’

  ‘Twaddle, that’s wot that is; PollyGossips trying to get something sensational going. And all because someone spotted her guzzling red stuff from a vial before one of the Fun/Funs gigs.’

  ‘Yeah, but it’s at one with what Ella tells us about Dupes being addicted to blood. But the most persuasive thing for me is that what Ella says ties in with all the messages we’ve been getting from Vanka, the ones telling us that Norma Williams isn’t Norma Williams.’

  ‘Vanka?’ asked Ella.

  ‘He’s my own special Deep Throat. I’ve been getting weird eyeMails from somebody called Vanka giving me classified information about Fun/Fun activity. It was Vanka who told us to come and meet you at the airport, saying we’d “learn something of interest” about Norma Williams.’ Oddie seemed to come to a decision. ‘You know, Burl, I’m inclined to believe what Ella is telling us. It may be a little far out, but I think we should run with it.’ She gave a smile. ‘Anyway, all we have to do is get into the Institute and we’ll be able to see for ourselves. At the very least, it’ll make a terrific story for the New York PollyGazette.’

  Burl gave a shake of his head. ‘Okay, ’ave it your way, Oddie, you’re the brains of the outfit.’ He nodded in the direction of the huge gate that guarded the Institute. ‘But I’ve gotta tell you it ain’t gonna be easy getting into that Institute place; looks cast-iron and double-bolted to me and there’s bound to be a swarm ov eyeSpies hovering abart too, maybe even some ov them guard-Bots. It’s a beast.’

  Ella had to agree with Burl’s assessment. The Institute’s public persona might be that of a place of learning but it looked more fortress than university. ‘Beast or not, we’ve got to get inside.’ She glanced over to Oddie. ‘Any ideas, Oddie?’

  ‘My experience as a journalist, Ella, is that the best way to get into a building is through the front door. It’s amazing what a little chutzpah will accomplish, so why don’t we just go up to the gate and ask to see Norma?’

  ‘Soppy idea,’ observed Burl. ‘All the badniks’ll do is call the cops. We’ll end up spending the night in clink.’

  ‘They can’t arrest us for just asking for an interview and anyway, if this Septimus Bole character is as spooked by Ella as she says he is, maybe he’ll be only too pleased that we’ve come calling.’

  Turning Oddie’s suggestion over in her head, Ella came to the conclusion that what the girl said made a lot of sense, but she also knew that bearding Bole in his den would be dangerous. He was, according to Vanka, guarded by Grigori.

  ‘No, Burl, Oddie’s right. We haven’t time to be subtle. Once Bole finds out I’m back in the Real World he’ll come hunting me, so the best thing to do is take the fight to him. But before we do that there are one or two things we’re going to need. I saw a 7/11 a couple of blocks back …’

  *

  The knock on the door of Norma’s bedroom came exactly ten hours later.

  ‘If you are ready, Miss Aaliz,’ oozed Metztil, ‘perhaps we could go downstairs? There are some minor administrative matters for you to deal with.’

  Dutifully Norma followed Metztil as she led her out of the room, down the Institute’s long staircase to a large reception room. Norma had been in the room before. It had been here that Professor Bole had lectured them on the importance a knowledge of history had for all the would-be politicians attending ParaDigm’s Hi-Achievers course … the course he had used to lure her to the Institute and thence into the Demi-Monde.

  A second Grigori was waiting there. ‘This is Jomjael, who is responsible for security,’ Metztil purred as she waved Norma into the seat behind the desk set to one side of the room. ‘It is fortunate that you have returned to us so quickly as there are a number of matters which require your attention before you depart for Las Vegas. Purely administrative … speeches to be made by a number of the lesser luminaries of the Fun/Funs which require your approval.’ She nodded to the Polly lying on top of the desk. ‘If you would be so kind as to review these and then authorise them using your bioSignature.’

  Trying to appear as casual as she could, Norma picked up the Polly and made a pantomime of reading the speeches. Pretty innocuous stuff and a quick trawl through PINC didn’t signal anything out of the ordinary. She pressed her thumb to the fingerprint pad.

  ‘Thank you for your help in this matter, Miss Aaliz’ – Metztil gave an off-kilter smile – ‘or should that be, Miss Williams?’

  Norma felt her blood run cold. She glanced around to see if there was any chance of her making a run for it. There wasn’t: Jomjael had taken station at the door.

  Metztil laughed. ‘Escape is impossible, Miss Williams. It is odd, is it not, that Dupes are a mirror image of their Real World counterparts? Aaliz Heydrich is left-handed but you are right-handed. Your handling of the Polly confirmed the suspicion I had after seeing how you favoured your right hand when you took the glass of water earlier. And then, of course, that you were able to return to the Real World despite no one making a Transfer Instruction from this site also rang alarm bells. I think that the Professor will be most interested to know how you managed to connive your way out of the Demi-Monde when the coding sequence of the NoirVille Portal had been scrambled.’

  ‘I don’t think I’m gonna be telling Septimus Bole anything.’

  ‘Oh, you are being too optimistic in that regard. My belief is that when Jomjael has finished with you, you will be most vocal on the subject.’ Metztil turned to the Grigori guarding the door. ‘Torture her, Jomjael. Find out how she managed to leave the Demi-Monde, but do not damage her body. Miss Aaliz still has use for it.’

  Even as Jomjael stepped forward and took Norma’s arm in a painfully tight grip, they were interrupted by the arrival of a third, rather agitated Grigori.

  ‘What is it, Shamsiel?’

  The Grigori jabbered away in a language that Norma’s PINC couldn’t interpret. When he had finished, Metztil barked orders and the two Grigori raced off.

  Turning back to Norma, Metztil smiled. ‘This, it would seem, is to be the day when all the enemies of the Grigori come to visit. Lilith herself has demanded an audience.’

  ‘Lilith? Ella Thomas is here?’

  ‘That is apparently the case.’

  Barely had Metztil finished speaking than Norma was amazed to see Ella Thomas being pushed into the room. But what was even more astonishing was the sight of Burlesque Bandstand and Odette Aroca entering close behind her; it was only a few hours since she had said goodbye to them in the Demi-Monde. The trio were guarded by Jomjael and Shamsiel.

  ‘Burlesque?’ Norma spluttered.

  The man frowned. ‘Not again. It’s Burl actually, luv – ’ave we met?’

  The penny dropped. These were obviously the NowLived originals of the Dupes who had been her friends in the Demi-Monde. What an odd coincidence. ‘It’s a long story, Burl. And hi, Odette.’

  ‘I prefer Oddie.’

  ‘Enough,’ snapped Metztil. ‘Whilst I am at a loss to understand why you, Lilith, would surrender, it is of no real consequence. What matters is that we now have the most formidable opponents of the Grigori in our power.’ Metztil opened a drawer of a bureau and extracted a long and very sharp-looking knife. ‘We Grigori are taught from childhood that the greatest enemy of our species is the witch Lilith, and now fate has granted me the honour of destroying you and, by doing so, avenging the death of my beloved brother Semiazaz.’ />
  Metztil made to move towards Ella, but her progress was interrupted by Burl, who did something quite peculiar. He reached up to the porkpie hat he had perched on top of his head, pulled a bulging paper bag out from under it and then threw the bag two-handed towards the ceiling fan whirring above their heads. The bag burst, releasing a thick mist of garlic powder.

  The effect on the Grigori was instantaneous: they reeled around coughing and spluttering and in the confusion Ella struck. Norma had seen Ella in action in Venice when she had dealt with Dandolo, but this was something else again. The girl was amazingly strong; strong enough to lift one of the gasping Grigori guards by the throat and hurl him against the wall. And as the second guard stood retching he was flattened by a punch from Burlesque, a punch he followed up with a hefty kick to the Grigori’s nuts. The creature groaned and then crumpled to the floor. Metztil was equally swiftly dealt with by Oddie, who brought a large candlestick crashing down on her head.

  Burl was impressed. ‘Gor, that wos terrific, that wos, Oddie. The way you sorted that vampire tart out wos really sumfink.’ He glanced at Ella. ‘They is vampires, ain’t they, Ella, like wot they ’ave in the movies?’

  ‘Yeah, and they’re vampires who are going to be waking up soon, so I think we should get them trussed up before they have a chance to come back at us.’

  ‘Maybe we should drive a stake through their ’earts?’

  ‘No,’ said Norma firmly, ‘no more killing. Let’s just tie them up and go.’

  ‘In a moment, Norma,’ replied Ella. ‘There’s something I have to do first.’

  *

  Ten minutes of searching brought them to the room Ella was looking for, a replica of the Transfusion Booths she had used in the Demi-Monde, complete with a screen made up of rows of mechanically rotating letters.

  ‘Wot is this place?’ asked Burl.

  ‘It’s a Transfusion Booth, Burl,’ Ella explained as she placed her palm on the recognition pad to the left of the keyboard, ‘and this in the Demi-Monde is what passes for high tech.’ The letters began to whirl, filling the room with their clacking.

  THE ANNEX OF THE BANK OF LONDON WELCOMES ELLA THOMAS

  PLEASE ENTER YOUR PASSWORD

  Ella typed in the word ‘Lilith’.

  PASSWORD ACCEPTED

  Immediately the letters clattered around again.

  WHICH SERVICE DO YOU REQUIRE?

  1. WITHDRAWALS

  2. DEPOSITS

  3. TRANSFERS

  4. OTHER

  Ella pressed the ‘4’ button and then typed:

  IM MANUAL

  The response from the screen was instantaneous. The letters twirled again.

  PLEASE BE ADVISED ELLA THOMAS THAT YOU HAVE GRADE 8 (CAPTAIN OR ABOVE) STATUS. IN ACCORDANCE WITH PROTOCOL 57 THIS ALLOWS SUCH INDIVIDUALS, WHEN DEPLOYED IN THE DEMI-MONDE® AND FACED BY MORTAL DANGER, TO MAKE EMERGENCY ONE-HOUR CHANGES TO THE DEMI-MONDE’S CYBER-MILIEU. IN ORDER TO PRESERVE THE DUPES’ PERCEPTION OF THE LOGICALITY OF THE DEMI-MONDE® SUCH CHANGES MAY NOT VIOLATE THE NATURAL LAWS PREVAILING IN THE DEMI-MONDE®. ALSO NOTE THAT BEFORE SUCH CHANGES ARE MADE PERMANENT THEY MUST BE RATIFIED BY THE DEMI-MONDE® STEERING COMMITTEE. IF SUCH RATIFICATION IS NOT RECEIVED BEFORE ONE HOUR HAS ELAPSED, THE AMENDMENT TO THE CYBER-MILIEU WILL BE ANNULLED. PLEASE ENTER ‘YES’ IF THESE CONDITIONS ARE UNDERSTOOD AND ACCEPTED

  Ella pressed ‘YES’, and typed in REQUEST FOR INFORMATION REGARDING THE WORK OF THE HEYDRICH INSTITUTE OF NATURAL SCIENCES.

  WHAT ASPECT OF THE INSTITUTE’S WORK?

  PLAGUE DEVELOPMENT. GENERAL BACKGROUND

  SUCH INFORMATION IS CLASSIFIED AS <> AND MAY ONLY BE DIVULGED TO PROFESSOR SEPTIMUS BOLE OR THOSE AUTHORISED BY PROFESSOR SEPTIMUS BOLE TO BE PRIVY TO THIS INFORMATION

  ‘I think I – or rather Aaliz Heydrich – might be able to help here,’ advised Norma as she placed her hand on the indent.

  THE ANNEX OF THE BANK OF LONDON WELCOMES AALIZ HEYDRICH PLEASE ENTER YOUR PASSWORD

  Norma typed FINAL SOLUTION.

  PASSWORD ACCEPTED

  PROVIDE INFORMATION REGARDING PLAGUE DEVELOPMENT CONDUCTED BY HEYDRICH INSTITUTE OF NATURAL SCIENCES

  The letters whirled.

  PLAGUE DEVELOPMENT PROJECT HAS BEEN CONDUCTED UNDER THE LEADERSHIP OF PROFESSOR JOSEF MENGELE, THOUGH LATTERLY, IN VIEW OF HER REMARKABLE ADVANCES IN THE FIELD OF VIROLOGY, DR MERIT PTAH HAS NOW BEEN APPOINTED AS CO-LEADER. THE OBJECTIVE OF THE PROJECT IS TO PRODUCE AN INERT, THOUGH POTENTIALLY LETHAL, VIRUS WHICH IS FRAGILE-SPECIFIC, I.E. IS HARMLESS TO GRIGORI OR TO THOSE POSSESSING THE LATENT MAOA-GRIGORI GENE. THE VIRUS DEVELOPED MUST ALSO BE CAPABLE OF BEING USED AS A CYBORG-VIRUS IN THE TRANSPORTING OF THE SECOND-GENERATION PINC, THE DEVICE KNOWN AS NOÖPINC

  Ella’s fingers danced over the keyboard. PROVIDE INFORMATION REGARDING NOÖPINC.

  SECOND-GENERATION PERSONAL IMPLANTED NANOCOMPUTER CAPABLE OF DELIVERY VIA VIRUS. OBJECTIVE TO HAVE ALL EXAMPLES OF FRAGILES IMPLANTED BY 30TH APRIL 2019

  ‘That’s the date of the Gathering of the Fun/Funs in Las Vegas,’ observed Oddie.

  STATUS OF PROJECT?

  SUCCESSFULLY CONCLUDED. NOÖPINC IS DEPLOYED IN THE REAL WORLD AND AWAITS ACTIVATION ON THE 1ST MAY 2019

  ‘What does it mean?’ asked Oddie.

  Ella answered. ‘It seems that the Boles have been using the Demi-Monde to help them develop a hybrid plague, one capable of being a carrier for this second-generation PINC ParaDigm’s cooked up.’

  ‘Fucking PINCs,’ said Burl. ‘That’s the reason I got out ov Britain. Way I saw it, once they had that thing in your head the game was up. PanOptika’s bad enough – them eyeSpies watching you all the time gives me the creeps – but once they can read your mind …’

  ‘The problem is, Burl, that if what we’ve just been told is correct, then the Boles are in the process of seeding each and every one of us with this noöPINC.’

  ‘Fuckers.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Ella as she turned back to the keyboard.

  HOW MAY NOÖPINC BE DESTROYED?

  THIS IS NOT POSSIBLE

  ‘Shit.’

  And with that the Polly lying to the side of the screen beeped to signal that it had received an eyeMail.

  2:06

  London

  The Real World: 25 March 2019

  The twelve years of Paul Kenton’s presidency (1964–1976) were a bad time for an American to be anything other than white, male and Protestant. Following the lead of his uncle, Frank Kenton, Paul Kenton ensured that Christianity (and it was a pretty fundamentalist Christianity at that) came to dominate every aspect of American life. Any reference to sex or lewd behavior was gutted from the media. The subservient role of women in society was strictly enforced: Man was Master and Women were to be silent and obedient. Any deviant behaviour (sex before marriage, homosexuality, miscegenation and blasphemy were the particular bêtes noires of the ReDeemed Republicans) was considered a criminal offence. Commenting on the repression Americans faced during the ‘Suffocating Sixties’, the British writer and poet John Lennon quipped, ‘The Americans aren’t Fun-damentalists … they’re UnFun-damentalists.’ This epithet stuck: henceforward the slang term for Americans was ‘UnFunnies’.

  The Kenton Klan: Messiahs or Maniacs?: D.W. Wright, American OffShore Press

  ‘Good morning, Robert.’ Breathless with seductive intent, the dulcet tones of Marilyn Monroe drifted through the cramped monopad that Rivets called home.

  Ah, but he loved Marilyn’s voice. Only Marilyn Monroe could intone such an everyday phrase and imbue it with so much eroticism. Subconsciously Rivets registered that it was still dark, too early to be getting up. He wriggled deeper under his duvet and into the suggestive embrace of Marilyn’s voice.

  ‘Robert … it’s time to get up.’ Marilyn’s voice was decidedly stricter this time. Rivets liked that.

  Unfortunately, it also had the effect of provoking Rivets’ common sense to butt into a really rather salacious dream involving Dong E and a pot of cold
cream and tell him to stop playing silly buggers and to re-engage with the world. The message was simple: if his Polly was telling him to get up then he had better do as he was told.

  Reluctantly Rivets hauled himself towards wakefulness, his sleep-befuddled brain telling him that something didn’t compute. It was dark and he made it a rule only to get out of bed in daylight.

  ‘Wha’ … wha’ time is it?’

  ‘It’s five o’clock, Robert.’

  ‘In the morning?’

  ‘Yes, Robert.’

  ‘What … what day is it?’

  ‘It’s Sunday, Robert.’

  ‘Five a.m.? Sunday?’ Rivets’ eyes ungummed themselves as he tried to get his head around the fact that Marilyn had woken him at such a ludicrously early hour on the one day of the week when he could sleep in. Five a.m. on a Sunday wasn’t a time, it was a malicious rumour. ‘Jesus, Marilyn, what the fuck are you doing waking me up at five a.m. on a Sunday?’

  ‘I apologise, Robert,’ answered the ever-equitable Marilyn, ‘but Professor Septimus Bole has requested your presence at his office in ParaDigm House.’

  In Rivets’ opinion Bole’s name was the fastest-acting stimulant known to man, and as his name was invoked his sluggish brain was galvanised into action. No one wanted to keep Bole waiting because a Bole who was kept waiting was a pissed-off Bole. Rivets levered himself to a sitting position and used his knuckles to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

  ‘Lights, please,’ he murmured and immediately the monopad was swathed in light. ‘Why does the Professor want to see me at this time of night?’ Even as the words stumbled out of his mouth he realised he could have truncated the sentence by omitting ‘at this time of night’. Bole never wanted to see him. People as elevated as Bole didn’t even know that Grade Twos like Rivets existed. Grade Twos were the human equivalent of condoms: used, then thrown away.

  ‘The Polly message I received requesting your presence was not accompanied by a rationale,’ Marilyn answered, ‘it merely stated that you should present at the Professor’s office in ParaDigm House as soon as possible. A ParaDigm vehicle is waiting to transport you there.’