The Night's Dawn Trilogy (422 page)

The rest of the sect, those that had survived, weren’t so fortunate. Police officers, while sympathetic to their erstwhile
allies, were disarming and cuffing them. The temple was proving a popular viewing point for awed, angry officers. Quinn’s
last two victims were still in there on show. And when the forensic crew got to work they’d find an awful lot of DNA samples
around the altar and in the drains. It was going to be a busy night down at Edmonton’s justice hall.

The sanctum was a wreck. A couple of lights had survived when the ceiling cracked open, hanging on their cables, spinning
slowly round and round. Clear fluid from the life support canisters sloshed over Banneth’s shoes, several centimetres deep
and tinged with blood. Most of the canisters had been smashed, spilling their bizarre occupants on to the floor. Their tubules
had invariably torn out, depriving them of the vital chemicals she was feeding into them, leaving the poor creatures to flop
their limbs (those that had any) feebly until death overcame them. The organs and appendages that were simply being suspended
until she found a use for them were ruined.

Banneth picked up the oil painting of Mary Shelley and tipped the broken glass out of its frame. Life-support fluid had discoloured
the canvas quite badly. She stared at the author’s drawn face for a moment, then sighed and cast the painting aside. “How
poetic,” she said quietly. Her suspicions about the sanctum were strengthening. There was an awful lot of damage considering
it hadn’t taken a direct hit. If the structural quakes and blastwaves from the explosions had been this powerful they ought
to have brought down the entire skyscraper.

Louise Kavanagh has arrived,
Western Europe said.
Please stick to the scenario we worked out.

Sure.
She knew her rebelliousness was coming through. Not that it mattered. She certainly couldn’t evade the supervisors. That
was the bargain she’d shaken on all those years ago. Not that she’d ever suspected it would come to this: a suicide bait.
But when you sign in blood, you must expect the devil to write the small print in his favour.

Go down to one of the lower floors,
Western Europe said.
I don’t want Louise to see your little dungeon of horrors. It’s important she isn’t upset by you.

Banneth hesitated. Her legs quivered, a pointed reminder of what this particular affinity bond was capable of. If she refused,
they would simply take her over and puppet her body.

Okay, God’s Brother I’m doing it. Just don’t expect me to smile and say thanks.
She turned slowly, gazing carefully round the ruins. One last nostalgic look. A cool breeze drifted against her cheek, causing
the dangling lights to sway as they spun. The door was shut.

Is something the matter?
North America asked.

No,
she said, then relented. They could pick up on her emotional state easily enough through affinity.
Possibly. I think he might be in here with me right now. I have the feeling I’m being watched. It’s the spookiest thing.
She projected a starched ironic smile.

Call out,
Western Europe said excitedly.
Challenge him. Provoke him. Something. See if you can get him to materialize. We only need a second.

“Quinn? Is that you, my little darling? Are you here at last?” Banneth put out a hand and stroked the central table, fingers
lingering on the straps. “Have you come home to me? You’re not afraid are you, my darling? I made you better than that. Remember
that beautiful pain that birthed you. I cleansed you of fear amid that pain so you could serve God’s Brother properly. And
you have, haven’t you. How you’ve grown since I banished you. The very messiah of darkness, now. That’s what you claim, isn’t
it. But can you do what you claim, or have you become flawed? I can correct that, Quinn, I can make you whole again. Submit
to me. Return to me, and I’ll love you in that very special way. Our way. Just like before.” She held up the strap invitingly.

Quinn trembled in fury. He wanted to take her there and then. Every word she spoke, each mocking syllable teased out the memories
of what she’d done to him. This room had been the place where the real violations had been performed. His screaming and her
silken laughter mingling long into the nights. The urge to reverse those acts made his serpent beast howl in torment as he
denied himself.
She
should be the one bound by those straps. He should be the one standing over the table.

His hands reached out to her, ready to caress and crush.

An annoyed frown creased her face, verging on petulance. “It’s no good,” she muttered. “The little prick can’t hear me.”

Quinn leaned closer, puzzled. It was as though she was talking to someone.

Banneth came to a decision, and strode out of the door, anger evident in every tense muscle and furious grimace. Her mind-tone
was sullen and extremely fearful. It was similar to those Quinn had perceived in his sacrificial victims. He followed her
as she stomped through the headquarters. Two police officers fell in beside her, escorting her down the stairs. More proof
of the treachery she had indulged in at the expense of God’s Brother. As if he needed more.

They came to an office below the headquarters edifice itself. The place belonged to an alcohol wholesaler, one of the sect’s
commercial fronts. And Quinn received the biggest shock of all since he’d returned to Earth. The Kavanagh sisters were there,
waiting for Banneth.

______

Louise was amazed to find they’d arrived at the skyscraper featured on the news sensevise. It did make her wonder about Ivanov
Robson, though. For a start, there was something very odd about the way he was always right about things. And then there was
this “contact” he had inside the Edmonton police division. She could believe that he’d worked with police departments before,
and no doubt a few favours were owed on both sides. But to pass so effortlessly through the cordon of armed police around
the skyscraper was hard to credit.

Nonetheless, the major in charge of the tactical squad had been waiting to greet them when their taxi pulled up fifty metres
short from the rear of the buzzing crowd. Now it was safe, thousands of Edmonton’s ordinary citizens had flocked in to soak
up whatever was left of the drama. Rover reporters and several district councillors formed the inner wall, pressing against
the barriers, shouting and datavising the line of implacable police for snatches of information, or pleading to be allowed
just that fraction closer than their rivals.

Six tactical team officers fell in around Louise’s party and cleared their way through the tightly packed crowd. Inside the
barriers, the fire department was doing most of the work. Hoses snaked away from large tenders, trailing down from mechanoids
that were scampering across the vertical walls of the skyscraper, extinguishing the last of the fires. The police were concerned
only in bundling the surviving combatants from both sides into secure trucks so they could be driven away to the justice hall.
One of them, a girl younger than Louise, was sobbing hysterically, kicking and bucking violently as four officers carried
her to a waiting truck. She screamed: “The messiah lives! His Night will claim you all!” as they flung her unceremoniously
inside.

Just as they were going in through the main entrance, three fully grown pigs rampaged out, squealing and grunting as they
raced down the broken stairs towards the street. Sweating, angry officers chased after them. Louise simply stood aside and
let them go past; it was one of today’s milder insanities.

The major led them inside. Fire and explosions had wrecked the lobby. Water and foam from the fire mechanoids was pooling
underfoot. Lighting came from temporary rigs set up at strategic corners. None of the lifts or escalators were working. They
went up four flights of stairs before being shown into some kind of office that had escaped any serious damage. Despite the
fires, Louise felt chilly. The major left them, and a strange-looking woman walked in.

At first Louise wasn’t entirely sure she was a woman. Her jaw was strong enough to be male, although her feminine figure countered
the argument. And the way she walked, straightforward easy strides, that was masculine, too. The oddest feature was her eyes
with their pink irises. When she looked at Louise, there was no hint of what she was thinking.

“I don’t know who you people are,” Banneth said. “But you must have a lot of clout to get in here right now.” She stared at
Genevieve. For the first time her face betrayed an emotion. “Very strange,” she muttered in puzzlement.

“I have contacts,” Ivanov said modestly.

“I’m sure you do.”

“My name is Louise Kavanagh. I called you earlier, about Quinn Dexter. Do you remember?”

“Yes. I remember.”

“I think he may have done all this; or at least sent people to do it. He told me he was coming back to Earth to get you. I
did try and warn you.”

Banneth’s gaze remained on Genevieve, who was fingering her pendant. “So you did. My mistake for not listening. Although as
you can imagine, I have good reason to be sceptical. Quinn was deported. I didn’t expect to see him again.”

“He really hated you. What did you do to him?”

“We had several disagreements. As you might have guessed, my occupation is outside the mainstream. I earn a living by supplying
certain items to people, which cannot be bought through normal commercial channels. It’s an activity which has brought me
into conflict with the police on several occasions. Dear Quinn was one of my couriers. And he rather stupidly got caught.
That was the reason he was deported, in fact. I expect he blames me for his sentence. I didn’t contribute to his defence;
at the time I was using my contacts to protect myself. His incompetence landed me in a very difficult legal situation. So
you see, the antipathy is mutual.”

“I’m sure it is,” Louise said. “But he’s a possessed now, one of the strongest. That makes him very dangerous, especially
to you.”

Banneth gestured round. “I’m beginning to appreciate that. Though I’m curious, why are you, someone I’ve never met before,
interested in saving me? I guarantee, I really am someone a nice girl like you wouldn’t want to meet.”

Louise was beginning to ask herself the same thing. Banneth was nothing like the image in her mind; she’d been expecting a
slightly older version of herself: innocent and bewildered. Not this cold, criminal woman, whose every gesture and syllable
was rich with disdain. “He was obsessed with you, and people need to be warned what he’s capable of.

I’m frightened that once he’s murdered you, he’ll do to Earth what he did to Norfolk. That was my home planet, you see.”

“How very noble and unselfish of you, Louise. Behaviour no one on this planet is remotely accustomed to. Not in this day and
age.” She arched an eyebrow at Ivanov. “So what do you suggest I do now?”

“I’m not sure,” Louise said. “I just had to deliver the warning, I promised myself that. I didn’t really think about afterwards.
Can you convince the police to give you a twenty-four hour guard?”

“I expect that if I told them a possessed was hunting me, they’d probably show Quinn where I was, and laugh a lot while they
were doing it. I’ve used up every contact and legal resource I had merely to avoid getting arrested for the crime of being
in the same building he attacked.”

“Then you’ll have to leave.”

“I can see this means a lot to you. But the police have killed every possessed involved in the attack. I wouldn’t worry. Quinn
Dexter’s soul is back where it belongs, suffering badly in the beyond.”

“You don’t know that,” Louise insisted. “If any of them survived, it’ll be him. At least leave here until the police confirm
there are no more possessed left in Edmonton. If they didn’t get him, he’ll come after you again. I know he will. He told
me. Killing you is a filthy obsession with him.”

Banneth nodded. Reluctantly, Louise considered, as if there was something demeaning in taking advice from her. What horrible
snobbery. To think of everything I risked in coming to her aid, not to mention the money it’s cost. Not even Fletcher would
have bothered if he’d known how awful she is.

“I suppose there’s no harm in playing it safe,” Banneth said. “Unfortunately, Quinn knows all my associates and safe houses
here in the arcology.” She paused. “The vac-trains are open to half of Europe and most of North America; though the rest of
the world seems more sceptical about Edmonton’s assurances. Good for them.”

“We’re going back to London this evening,” Ivanov Robson said. “Do you know anyone there you can stay with?”

“Like you, I have contacts.”

“Okay, I can arrange for a police tactical team to escort us back to the station. But once we get to London, you’re on your
own.”

Banneth gave an indifferent shrug.

______

Quinn watched the entire scene play out, resisting the impulse to interfere at Banneth’s petty lies. He was captivated, not
just by what was said, but the emotional content behind the words. Louise backed every word she spoke with intense fervour.
Banneth was her usual serene, egotistical self, a state she shared with the husky private detective (which made Quinn highly
suspicious of him). It was pure theatre. It had to be. Yet it must be a paradox. Louise Kavanagh had no script, no coaching;
she believed what she was saying, that she had some higher mission to save Banneth from him. That couldn’t be forged. The
entire thing must have been orchestrated by the supercops.

For whose benefit? That was the really unnerving part.

There was no possible way Louise could have found Banneth unless the High Magus wanted her to. The girl must have been steered
here by the supercops for one reason, to get Banneth out of Edmonton. Yet Banneth was part of the supercop set-up, she didn’t
need Louise to tell her where to go. It didn’t make any sense.