The Demi-Monde: Summer

by Rod Rees

  ‘Blood.’

  ‘On this handkerchief is the blood of Lilith. When she was Ella, she used it to clean a wound on her leg and I swore to her then that I would treasure it.’ He pushed the square of linen into Jezebel’s hand. ‘Maybe using this, your ouanga doll can be made potent enough?’

  Jezebel didn’t hesitate; she skipped over to the altar, took up the doll and wrapped the handkerchief around it like a shroud. This done, she held the doll high over her head and began to chant.

  ABBA, hear my prayers, hear my pleas

  Help me, ABBA, help me please

  Come to the aid of my WhoDoo

  Breathe your power into this juju

  The chanting of the incantation complete, Jezebel placed the doll on a steel dish, doused it in oil and then struck a match.

  Lilith braced herself to make the thrust with the sword. Deep inside her mind she heard the voice of Ella pleading with her to stop, that murdering her brother was madness, but Lilith refused to be deterred. Billy was now a danger to her plans to lead HumanKind to perfection and for that he must die.

  Then …

  It was as though she was enveloped by fire. Her very soul seemed to be burning. She screamed as all of her power drained from her. She staggered and let the sword drop from her hand then slumped back against a chair, barely having enough strength to stay on her feet. Desperately Lilith struggled to maintain control but now the spirit of Ella was stronger inside her. Rather than being consumed by the flames it seemed that Ella had been energised by them.

  ‘Nooooo!’ Lilith screamed and then sagged unconscious to the floor.

  Seeing his sister prostrate and helpless, Billy didn’t hesitate. He kicked her hard in the stomach then gathered up the sword and steadied himself ready to thrust it into her guts.

  ‘I would be grateful if you wouldn’t kill the girl.’

  Billy looked around to see a bruised Selim staggering across the room towards him.

  ‘Fuck you, man, this bitch was gonna trash me fo’ sure. An’ no one leans on Billy Thomas without Billy Thomas leaning back.’

  ‘Nevertheless, the girl is much too valuable for her to be killed in revenge. I have been ordered to keep her safe until Lammas Eve. Then you can sacrifice her.’

  ‘Fuck that,’ and Billy raised the sword over his head.

  ‘If you kill her, Your Grace, I will ensure that you never leave the Demi-Monde and that your time here is spent communing with the most intense and unrelenting pain.’

  ‘Fuck yo’. Yo’ can’t do that; I’m the motherfucking Messiah.’

  ‘I can and I will. But if you spare your sister, I promise that on Lammas Eve you will have the honour of sacrificing her.’

  Billy looked across to Selim to see if the guy was serious. ‘Yo’ rapping on the real?’

  ‘I am, Your Grace. His HimPerial Majesty Shaka Zulu commands that the girl lives and I am ever the obedient servant of His Majesty.’

  For a moment Billy stood undecided, then the red mist faded and common sense prevailed. He wanted to get home. He had a million bucks waiting for him there and all he had to do to collect it was get through to Lammas, cap his sister and then he was home free. Just eight more weeks. The smart move, he decided, would be to play along with Selim. ‘Yo’ certain I’m gonna be the one to total the bitch at the end of Summer?’

  ‘I’m certain.’

  Billy lowered the sword. ‘Okay, but yo’ better keep this badass bitch somewhere safe until then. Come Lammas, her ass is mine.’

  ‘You may rely on it, Your Grace.’

  *

  Half-conscious though she was, Ella heard what was being said, but she was not afraid of death. Thanks to Vanka – thanks to ABBA – Lilith had been defeated, sent scurrting back deep into the darkest recesses of her soul. Now she felt cleansed … reborn. Once again she was Ella and it would be as Ella that she faced death. It would be Ella who pitted herself against the evil of Lucifer.

  Part Six

  The Escape from the Forbidding City

  33

  The Forbidding City

  The Demi-Monde: 50th–63rd Days of Summer, 1005

  By their pernicious oppression of Femmes, nonFemmes have relinquished their right to be perceived as human (Lucrezia Borgia: interview given to The Coven Today, 78th Day Summer 999). Indeed, there is strong evidence – their proclivity to engage in wars, their penchant for MALEvolence and their predilection to associate heterosexual sex with aggression – to support the contention that nonFemmes are more beast than human.

  Proceedings of the Gendercide Committee, Fall 1003

  The atmosphere in the Forbidding City was becoming febrile. Whilst the official word was that the war with the ForthRight was going well and the barbarian nonFemmes were being severely punished by the Covenite army, the constant rumble of artillery fire that was slowly advancing towards Beijing told another story. The horizon was now shaded a deep scarlet by the fires raging in Rangoon.

  It was an atmosphere made all the more torrid by the sudden and violent purging of the NoNs serving in the Forbidding City, the whispered word being that AdmiralNoN Heii had turned traitor and Wu in panic had ordered the summary execution of all NoNs, only relenting when it had been pointed out to her that without NoNs the Forbidding City would cease to function. Despite this, at least a hundred of the poor devils had vanished into the depths of Hereji-Jo Castle and those who had survived had become very jumpy indeed. None more so than Mao Zedong, who in his anxiety to prove his fealty to the Empress was ever more strict in ensuring adherence to Li.

  And it was Mao’s redoubled enthusiasm for disciplining anyone who transgressed Li that had caused the delay in Dong E carrying out Xi Kang’s imperative that she help the Daemon, Norma Williams, escape. The Fresh Blooms were being watched and disciplined as never before.

  But like the good Confusionist she was, Dong E knew the value of patience, and as the days passed, so the tension eased, the Forbidding City once more relaxed and an opportunity to visit the Pavilion of Silent Repose where the Daemon was being held presented itself.

  It was a maidFemme – in exchange for a small bag of gold tiels and a kiss – who finally agreed to hide Dong E at the bottom of the laundry basket when it was wheeled to the Daemon’s apartment. As Dong E suspected they would be, the two sentryFemmes were so monumentally bored by the task they had been set guarding the Daemon that their examination of the basket was perfunctory and she was trundled into the girl’s presence undiscovered. When she popped out of the basket, it was as well, she decided, that the guards had – on the orders of Empress Wu, who was concerned they might be seduced by the Daemon’s devilish tongue – been deafened, such was the shriek of surprise the Daemon emitted.

  ‘Who the fuck are you?’ yelped the Daemon as she brandished a ceramic figurine representing the Empress Wu at Dong E in a very threatening manner.

  ‘Daemon known as Norma Williams, I am Fresh Bloom Dong E and I have come to rescue you.’

  ‘Hey, I know you. You were the girl doing the interpreting when I met with that lunatic Wu.’

  Dong E bowed. ‘You are correct, Daemon known as Norma Williams; I had the sublime honour of serving Her Divine Majesty Empress Wu in the capacity of interpreter.’

  ‘Then what’s an interpreter doing hiding in a laundry basket?’

  ‘I have come here at the behest of ABBA Herself – as related by the iChing – to aid you in escaping from the Forbidding City.’

  The Daemon laughed, which Dong E found a little off-putting. ‘Are you for real?’

  Dong E frowned, somewhat perplexed by the question. ‘Daemon known as Norma Williams …’

  ‘Norma. I’d prefer to be addressed as Norma.’

  ‘Very well, Norma. The Proposition of unBelievability propounded by PhilosopherNoN Xi Kang theorises that the Demi-Monde is not a “Real” world but is an illusionary Virtual World devised by an unknown agency and sustained by HumanKind’s Fallibility of Perception, itself a consequence of a co
ntaminated Solidified Astral Ether. So the answer to your question “am I for real?” depends very much upon whether you have a WunZian or a TooZian outlook on Life … whether you are a proponent of Perceptionalism or unBelievability.’

  ‘Stop!’ said the Daemon as she held up her hands. ‘I am not in the mood for all this Confusionist crap. It wasn’t a philosophical question. What I meant was, are you in earnest when you say you’re here to rescue me?’

  Dong E frowned; it was a very peculiar question. ‘Of course.’

  The Daemon held out a hand. ‘Then I’m very pleased to meet you. I haven’t heard a word spoken in over six weeks, so you’re most welcome to come visit.’

  Dong E had heard of this peculiar and quite distasteful gaijin custom of shaking hands in greeting, but given the imperative of the divination offered by the iChing, she dismissed her scruples and took the Daemon’s hand in hers.

  ‘We must move quickly, Norma. My absence from the Pavilion of Delicious Delights will be noted and guardFemmes sent to search for me. We must hurry.’ She pointed to the laundry basket. ‘If you would snuggle down inside the basket. It is fortunate that you are such a small Daemon.’

  ‘Whoa there, honey. I’m not going anywhere. I need to find some answers to a few questions before I make a run for it, notably about the work being done by a Dr Merit Ptah on the YiYi Project.’

  Dong E shook her head. ‘I have never heard of the Doctor nor of this YiYi Project.’

  Norma began a nervous pacing of the room. Obviously, Dong E decided, Daemons were not trained in the arts necessary to achieve inner quietude and harmony. If this Norma was a typical example, they seemed very agitated creatures with no concept of the importance of maintaining wu wei.

  ‘Well, certain people I’ve spoken to believe that the only place I’ll find out about the YiYi Project is here in the Forbidding City.’ Suddenly Norma stopped in mid-stride as though struck by a thought. ‘Does the Empress have a private office?’

  ‘Of course. She meets with her most senior NoNs in the Hall of Mental Cultivation. Mao ZeDong keeps a suite of offices there.’

  ‘Then presumably that’s where she keeps her most confidential papers.’

  ‘Why yes.’ Despite all her training in the maintenance of inscrutability Dong E felt herself frown as she began to understand what Norma was asking of her. ‘What you are suggesting is impossible, Norma. It is suicide to even consider entering the Hall of Mental Cultivation unless expressly invited by the Empress herself. To be discovered there without such an invitation means death.’

  ‘Well, death or no, that’s probably the only place where I’ll find information about what Dr Ptah is cooking up.’ Norma sat herself down on a couch. ‘Tell me something, Dong E, as the only way in or out of the Forbidding City is over the Bridge of the Heavenly Divide, I guess that burglary doesn’t register very high on the list of the City’s crime statistics.’

  Again Dong E frowned and then, realising that this could contribute to her premature ageing, she made a conscious effort not to frown. But it was difficult, Norma’s observations were very perplexing. ‘Burglary? No, there is no theft in the Forbidding City, it is, well, forbidden.’

  ‘Then I’m betting the City’s security system isn’t the best. I mean, it can’t be up to much if you broke into this apartment so easily.’

  Dong E had never really thought about it before, but now she realised that what Norma was saying was perfectly true. Whilst getting into and out of the Forbidding City was impossible, the security inside the City was slack. NoNs like Mao might bluster and threaten, but the reality was that with a little thought and a little bribery nothing was impossible and nowhere was impenetrable.

  ‘I would hazard a guess that Mao’s offices in this Hall of Mental Cultivation of yours aren’t even locked.’ Norma smiled. ‘So here’s the deal, Dong E, you get me the information I need about the YiYi Project and then I’ll allow you to come rescue me.’

  As she climbed back into the laundry basket, Dong E couldn’t help thinking that somehow she’d been outnegotiated, but then, she supposed, the Daemon did have ABBA on her side.

  Dong E decided that the only time it would be possible for her to enter the Hall of Mental Cultivation unseen would be at night, when the Forbidding City was asleep, but even then such an escapade was fraught with danger. Not only was traversing the corridors of the City without being seen by a servant or a prowling guard difficult, but as the Empress Wu slept little and was in the habit of summoning one or more of her concubines at any time of the night, there was the ever-present risk of Imperial NoN Mao ZeDong coming looking for her and not finding her in her quarters. Unfortunately, there was no alternative: the Hall of Mental Cultivation was perhaps the busiest room in the whole of the Palace and during the day it swarmed with NoN administrators bustling around dealing with the many and various tasks relating to the running of the Coven.

  Dong E had to pick her moment carefully and that moment came a couple of nights later, when Mao ZeDong visited the Pavilion of Delicious Delights bearing two shanpai – the picture cards the Empress used to select the Fresh Blooms she would have entertain her. Experience told Dong E that when the Empress demanded two Fresh Blooms, then she would not require more. After a couple of hours or so of two-handed (and two-mouthed) Femme2Femme pleasuring, her passions and her vitality would be drained and she would sleep until dawn. But to be on the safe side, Dong E waited while the two girls had been stripped naked, their bodies oiled and perfumed, then wrapped in silk sheets and carried off to the Imperial Bedchamber. Only when this had been done and the unCalled girls had begun to think of sleep did Dong E make her move.

  Wearing her plainest jiangs – the black ones without embroidery or embellishments which she reserved for the most menial of cleaning duties she was occasionally asked to perform – Dong E slipped out of the Pavilion just after two in the morning. With a black scarf tied tight around her face she melded into the darkness as she moved silently along, her soft slippers making nary a sound as she padded down the empty, shadow-bedecked corridors. For ten tense minutes she scuttled through the City, expecting at any moment a challenge to be roared out, but, thankfully, she found the City asleep and she came to the Hall of Mental Cultivation without seeing another soul. Just as Norma had suspected, the doors to the hall weren’t locked. Taking a deep breath, Dong E slid through the Door of Destiny Fulfilled and into the dark room beyond.

  Well, not that dark. She found the Hall of Mental Cultivation swathed in the glow of red light streaming in through the windows lining the right-hand side of the hall. The night was suffused with firelight. Above the Great Wall she could see that the sky was flickering with flames. Rangoon was ablaze. The war, she decided, must be going very badly if Rangoon was burning unchecked.

  Stunned that the HerEtical sanctuary of the Coven was being so wickedly violated, Dong E stood for a moment transfixed, but finally she remembered why she was there, and turned to survey the Hall. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the red-tinged gloom, and only then did she begin to realise the stupidity of the task she had been set. The room was crammed full of tables, these in turn littered with piles upon piles of paper. It was impossible to believe that she would be able to find the secrets of the YiYi Project within this avalanche of administrative dross.

  Dross.

  That was the clue. If this Project YiYi was as important as Norma said it was, it wouldn’t be handled by mere NoN Administrators; only the most senior of officials would be privy to its secrets and that meant papers relating to the project would be held in the office of the Imperial NoN Mao ZeDong. Dong E shivered: to be discovered trespassing the Hall of Mental Cultivation might be punishable by death, but to be discovered violating the office of Mao ZeDong would be punishable by a very slow and very painful death. But she had no choice. The prophecy of the iChing had to be fulfilled.

  She had only been in Mao ZeDong’s office once before – when, as a ten-year-old girl, she had been brought
to the Forbidding City – and the remembrance of the interview she’d been subjected to still brought goose bumps to her skin. For over an hour Mao had quizzed her about what she knew of her family and for an hour she had told him – truthfully – that she knew nothing about her real mother and father, that she was an orphan who had been brought up as a ward of foster parents. Finally – grudgingly – he had placed the Seal of Acceptance on the residency papers making her a Citizen of the Forbidding City.

  Pushing these terrible remembrances to the back of her mind, Dong E moved across the hall towards the door which, as best she could remember, led to the private offices of Mao. Taking a quick look over her shoulder – the deserted hall was very, very spooky – she ghosted her way into the room. Unpleasant memories came flooding back. The room was dominated by a metre-high plinth set in the middle of the marbled floor upon which sat a huge gilded desk decorated with carved dragons. It had been in front of this desk that a tiny, trembling Dong E had stood when she had been interrogated by Mao. It was from this desk that the NoN had peered down at her and made his judgement of life and death.

  Bastard.

  Shaking with fear, Dong E stepped up onto the plinth and examined the top of the huge desk. There were four files stacked neatly to one side, obviously laid out ready for review in the morning. Taking a box of matches from the pocket of her jiangs, she lit the candle on the desk and began to examine the titles on the spines of the files. The first two merely related to the preparations being made to repel the invasion of the ForthRight and to the disposition of the Covenite Army: these she discarded. It was what was written on the third and fourth files that made Dong E’s body clock begin to tick more quickly. The third was entitled ‘Project YiYi: Male DeContamination and the Culling of nonFemmes’ whilst the fourth read ‘Progress towards the Translation of the Flagellum Hominum’.

  The name rang a gong. The Flagellum Hominum had been referred to by Xi Kang in his book, and she could see by the seals used on the documents the file contained that they were of the greatest importance: only Papers of State bore the Dragon Seal of the Empress Wu. Unfortunately, all the documents seemed to have been written in some form of code and as such they were totally unintelligible. Perhaps, thought Dong E, Xi Kang would be able to decipher them. So, with a shrug, she scooped both files into the canvas bag she had on her shoulder and turned towards the door.