“Nearly lost my arm,” I say and give him a thumbs-up with the black blister wrapped in bandages.
He sits up, sliding on the sheets. “Those alien bastards.”
“Just your normal everyday ice spirits.” I shrug.
“The only place for them is in a good whiskey.”
“How are you getting on?”
His grin is painful. “They've done more probing and prodding than our friends. There was some internal bleeding but they fixed it with a bit of keyhole surgery.” He shows me the shaved area on the back of his head with a white bandage stuck to it. “I should be okay. Complete remission. No metastasized sites. No major brain centres affected. Fucking miracle apparently.”
“Any explanation?”
“I keep telling them you did it.” He laughs. “With your Bowie knife and some chanting.”
“Don't pull my leg.”
“It's true. None of them believed me until they saw the item on the news. Now they just look at me funny.”
“How's Glinda?”
“She's taking it well. I reckon she thought I'd run off with an intern or advocate and not looked back.”
A nurse discretely clears his throat.
“Looks like my time is up. You know where to find me.”
“Hey, don't be a stranger. I owe you a wee dram.”
“Since I'm about to get the sack tomorrow I'll have plenty of time to take you up on that.”
“Wish I could help you with that, but I don't think they'll let me out in time.”
It takes forever to get back to the Gardens. They're still mushy. I get the impression a lot of people have been tramping around in the station area and my tunnel. Nothing appears to be missing from my tent, but I'm a bit pissed off none the less. I don't feel entirely comfortable going into the Otherworld if people are going to be able to prod and poke my body while I'm away. It has always been a risk, but there's a difference between a chance and a near certainty.
Opening Flower and her companions arrive much quicker than last time. The infovores stayed away but I feel much more exposed without Corbie here. He wasn't much use in a fight but at least he was an extra set of eyes.
“The procedure was a success.” Opening Flower says, making it sound somewhere between a question and a statement.
The hint of uncertainty is a surprise. “I spoke to Stevie earlier on, he was fine. There was a small problem with some bleeding so he ended up in hospital, but the upside is he was reunited with his family. Thank you all for helping me with this.”
“It was useful to us,” Eroding Blade says. “You have our thanks too.”
“Did you find it?”
“We don't understand.”
“The soul. That's what you were looking for wasn't it?”
“Our data remains inconclusive, but aligns with what we know of ourselves.”
I laugh. “I'll take that as a yes then.”
Eroding Blade inclines his head slightly. “We would be pleased to meet with you further.”
“I'd like to get to know you guys better too. I'd love to see your home world.”
“Perhaps that can be arranged,” Opening Flower says, sounding happy.
Midori's hiding something. I've never seen her stay submerged in her pool before. This worries me. I'm already nervous after our last meeting. “How are we going to move against the Powers That Be?” she says.
“My passion for a fight has faded over the last few days,” I say. “I'm still angry at being manipulated and my family hurt. Revenge is best served cold. I need more time. Without Corbie I need to find spirits to work with.”
“I am glad you chose to work with me,” she says. “But I'm disappointed. The purpose of our alliance is, in part, to do something about the Great Spirits.”
“And we will, in time. Just not right now. I've only been doing this a few weeks and I've barely made it through alive. I have a lot to cope with in the Living World right now too. Food I eat here will not sustain my body. There's something else we need to discuss. You were very hurt and angry last time I was here. I didn't feel we could talk properly.”
Midori frowns. “Say what you want. We are allies, are we not?”
“Our…intimacy was wonderful. I enjoyed being with you. But now you've been acting like a jealous girlfriend. We hadn't made any commitments to one another. I have ties to people in the Living World. My ex-wife, my kids, and there's a woman I like.”
“You want to make an alliance with someone over me.”
“See that's what I'm trying to say. We slept together, now you're threatened by every other woman in my life. That's not acceptable.”
“And what about me? What about my feelings, my needs?”
“I'm not denying them. But you don't own me anymore than I do you. Sex one time, and let's be honest you drugged me, is not a relationship. I work in the spiritual world, but I need a life in the Living World too. Otherwise I can't be a shaman.”
“You have responsibilities here too.”
“Exactly. I have feet in both worlds.”
Midori emerges from the pool. At first I think it is just the water bending the light. Then I know I'm in trouble. She stretches her arms below her distended belly like she's carry a basket. Is it possible to be surprised and unsurprised at the same time? What is even in there? I feel slightly ill.
“And I take all my responsibilities seriously,” I say.
“I'm glad to hear it.”
“When are you due?”
“In another day or two.”
It had only been a couple of days. How is this even possible? “How can I help?”
“I'm sure simply having a father around to show some guidance will be enough,” she says. “But I expect your undivided attention.”
“That's not going to happen. I'll support you in any way I can, but you can't lay claim to my time.”
“It is so nice to see you've grown a backbone. You'll need it when you lead our children against the Great Spirits.”
“Okay. Corbie was right. You really are crazy.” I'm starting to think of any number of cheap horror flicks.
“I'm helping us both. You need spirits to aid you. What better than your own family?”
“We're a family now? Nuclear, no doubt. I like you but this is all a bit too much, too fast.”
“I can give you more than any mere human woman. I won't age. I'll never die.”
“Now you try the sales pitch for a long term relationship. We should get to know one another better, spend time learning about one another. We started down that road, but I've been under the influence, and your behaviour is possessive and beyond creepy.”
“How can you not love the mother of your children?”
It's like talking to an immortal pregnant teenager. “If I was younger you'd have me walking up the aisle. But I've already been married. I have kids. I know how this works. I've picked up their puke, cleaned their soiled clothes and watched them walk for the first time. I'm also being divorced by their mother. Having kids together doesn't obligate me to love you.”
Midori slumps to the ground groaning and holding her stomach. I scramble down beside her but she looks at me with such hate her feeble push is enough for me to move back. She rises into a squat in the sand on the banks of the pool. I see her stomach bulge and throb. Is this normal? Is she early? I don't want her to come to harm, or the kids, whatever they might be.
A sharp angular shape thrusts up distending her skin. She cries out. Another pushes up and the leafy skin of her abdomen tears like paper. I see a beak poking through. Another tear forms further down and as the two tears head towards each other her body bursts open in a torrent of wings and a shimmer of fins. The birds flee into the air, the fishes flop and jump and slide into the pool. Balls of wet fur fall into the sand from the ruined cavity of Midori's belly. They mewl and finding legs scamper into the nearest dark spaces.
Midori lets out a deep cry. I don't know if it is relief or sadness. I feel disgusted t
hat I had anything to play in this. Her abdomen closes over with folds of leaves and petals.
“Are you okay?”
Midori laughs. “Never been better.”
“Those are our children?”
“Don't worry, shaman. None of us need your support.” She rises up to stand and wades into the water.
I watch until the ripples fade.
Sitting up I nearly head-butt a camera. “What the fuck?” There's a crowd in the tunnel and I'm in an island of light. Several other cameras are pointing at me and a number of people lurk beyond the dazzle. I ask the question even though I know the answer. “What do you want?”
“Are you responsible for the neon jellyfish hoax?”
“How did you make the Gardens warmer than the rest of Glasgow? Did you use magic?”
“How long have you been a necromancer?”
I nearly respond to that one. Remember; don't accept the premise of the question. “I'm an IT worker trying to get by like hard working people everywhere.” Spoken like a true politician. Have they talked to Kathryn? Have they hassled my kids? She'll never let me see them again.
“Can you answer our questions, please, Mr Munro?”
“You'll have to forgive me I've just woken up.”
“Do you like sleeping in a tunnel?”
“How have you been finding it?” This gets a few laughs. I head towards the light. The geese follow. If I answer their questions will it make it worse? Or will they go away and the story will die. I wish I'd done more media training. I'm glad to get out, get some space. I'm still shocked by what I saw Midori do. Was that a regular occurrence for her or was my sperm was required? Meantime I need to be careful. The press will warp anything I say.
On the platform I turn to the pack, most of them are still inside the gloom of the tunnel. I'm out in the light. The sky is ice blue, the sunlight crisp and golden. Sometimes there's a performer in me trying to break out. I see the beaks tear open Midori from within.
“Last time I spoke to the press I thought I'd made an agreement. That promise wasn't worth the paper it was printed on. Now I'm going to lose my job.
“Look at where I live. You've seen it. I can't go much lower. Without my job I'm going to be raiding the skips round the back of the supermarket just to get something to eat. You've all got roofs over your heads. Maybe you've got kids to feed too. All I'm asking for is a little respect, and a little restraint. I think I know what you want to ask me about. I wish I had answers for you. I only have more questions.
“Being a shaman is a calling not a choice. You can fight the call, but you won't survive. My family have suffered already. Please, I beg you, leave them alone. I've not been able to save my marriage as a consequence of the call. Leave my kids out of this. You speak to my family and we'll see if I have any necromantic powers or not. Can I trust you to agree to that much? If so, I'll answer your questions.”
They're stunned for a moment. Maybe the sunlight shining off a spanner has them dazed. Someone says yes. I look at them, they drop their eyes. Someone else says I agree. They can't hold my gaze either.
“It's simple. If you believe I can change the weather at my whim or conjure up strange glowing things in the night sky then you can only imagine what other powers I have. And I'm asking you to respect my family's privacy. If you don't believe it then you damn well better hope that you're right.”
Some of the reporters break ranks and walk past me. A few remain, including the two who wouldn't look me in the eye.
“I don't care if what you print is the truth. I don't care if you believe me. I just ask that I'm the only person you interview in my family. I'm taking a huge leap of trust here. Who has the first question?”
“You said before that you interact with spirits on behalf of other people. What are these spirits like?”
“Some of them are just like animals, some of them are plants, and some are simple objects like eight sided polygons. A few look like mythical beings. Some are quite beyond anything I'd seen before.” I laugh. “I nearly said alien, but I don't know if that means anything anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can't say that they come from other planets.”
“Was the spacecraft being here your fault?”
“I didn't see any spacecraft.”
“What did you see?”
“I was in my tent reading. When my light failed I came out and saw the same glowing thing in the sky you all did.”
“Did you have anything to do with it being here?”
“I think my neighbours have had a big laugh at all our expense. I encouraged them to move down here to be warmer when the anticipated cold weather came. They didn't appreciate me waking them up early yesterday morning and seem to have decided to play a prank on all of us.”
“What about the warm weather?”
“That was my solution to my neighbour's reluctance to move.”
“You got spirits to make it warmer?”
“I asked spirits not to make it so cold. It seems that they were a little overzealous. Alternatively, there are special geothermal or microclimate conditions that made it warmer here than the rest of the city for the last two days.” I feel my thumb itching terribly and have to resist the urge to scratch it.
I spend an hour answering every question they can throw at me. Eventually they get bored and leave. Am I a deluded religious freak, a new prophet for a new age, or nobody at all, a complete waste of time? I'll read all about it tomorrow with everyone else.
The rest of the day is preparation for tomorrow's lynching. I'm on shaky ground, but I did my job, day and night. I can't see how they can fire me.
I peek under the bandage on my thumb. The white sets off the creeping black well. I think it is starting to smell.
Chapter 21
“You're looking smart. The usual?” Sindi smiles at me like nothing happened two days ago.
“I've got an interview. And yes, please.”
“New job, eh. You leaving us for bigger things?”
“Sadly I'm trying to keep my existing job.”
“Shit. You never seem to get an even break.”
“Look. I wanted to thank you properly for helping me out the other day.” I release the money for my bacon roll and tea.
“We'd go out of business if we let our customers die on us.”
Sitting outside the shared meeting room in the building I know I'm too early. My employers haven't even made it in yet.
“Just go in and wait.” Jill on reception nods at the door.
The screen is on and live. I don't know why I thought there'd be direct human interaction. They introduce themselves. Blah from HR, Y from ICT Services, Damien my line manager, a couple of other folks in the shadows. PR people?
“Your conduct has been fine.” “We think you've done a great job.” “We appreciate the contribution you've made to the company.”
There have been some who had suggested my appearance on TV during working hours could constitute bringing the company into ill-repute. This would be a gross misdemeanour worthy of immediate dismissal. Other, wiser, people have suggested that being seen to persecute someone for their religious beliefs or trying to help the community would be seen in a much poorer light. It is just pure coincidence that they are having to streamline the company further and I'm one of those having to be let go. They have prepared a fair, some would say generous, redundancy package of six month's pay plus notice and holiday pay, but with immediate loss of all other benefits.
I reckon with no more support payments and staying in my tent that could last me a year, probably longer. I'm pissed off. I can't believe despite the smoke and mirrors that they're actually firing me. I'm also relieved. It used to be all I had, but it was starting to feel like a millstone round my neck.
I sign some pieces of paper, hand my pass to Jill and walk into the bitter morning air. Fuck em all.
All through the meeting I was increasingly glad they weren't in the room with me. My t
humb has that sweet smell of rotting meat. I knew yesterday that it needed to go, despite what the doctor said. They didn't just need blood from me. They took my flesh too. I need to take care of this.
In my tunnel I have gauze, bandages, clean water, a flat rock, a scalpel edged kitchen knife and my gas stove hissing blue. I unwrap my thumb. The material sticks to a moist patch and I feel my flesh rotate as I pull. I hold back my breakfast.
It is as black as all my sins, purple round the edges, swollen with pus and other fluid.
I don't think this is going to work. I should have bought a hatchet instead.
I bring up Rachael's number on my phone. All I have to do is hit the Call button.
With my hand flat on the stone, I extend my thumb out at ninety degrees. I heat the blade in the flames. With the tip on the stone, I rest the blade along the big joint. The bastards are only getting the end, nothing more. I lift the blade using the point as a pivot, like a paper guillotine. There's no room for hesitation. I slam down the blade with all my strength. It slices through skin and gets caught in the joint of the bone. Electric blue hits my forehead. I see stars.
When I come back I'm still kneeling before the stone. A pool of blood surrounds my thumb, the knife quivers with every move. The blackened tip of my thumb is half on half off. I turn my hand so the blade faces the stone. I reach for a loose brick in the floor of the tunnel. I try again to prise it free. It feels too heavy to lift. Too solid.
The brick comes down on the blade. Shards of red ceramic join the blood. I feel like I'm operating myself on remote control. I plunge my hand in the water washing off the gore and brick dust. I thrust it into the flame. I smell like bacon. I put my blackened half thumb back into the water. Then my thumb comes back to life and I scream out. It echoes down the tunnel and bounces back to me.
Lovely faithful Rachael is slapping me awake. My thumb is on fire and my stomach is groaning. I shiver hard. The gas stove is out. The blood on the stone is gone. Where is the rotten end of my thumb? The fingers of my other hand are bent round my phone.
Midori is standing out in the light beneath the air vents amongst the first shoots of spring. How is that possible? My head feels thick and heavy. It's hard to think. If the aliens could come through why not her too?
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