Nightside 02 - Agents of Light and Darkness

in, gave her a bowl of milk, and now I can’t get rid of her. To be fair, she runs my office in the Nightside far more efficiently than I ever could. She understands things like filing, and keeping an appointment diary, and paying bills on time. I’ve never had the knack for being organized. I think it’s a genetic thing. In the few months she’s been working for me, Cathy’s made herself indispensable, though God forbid she should ever find that out. She’s insufferable enough as it is, and besides, I’d have to pay her more.
    “Cathy! This is John. Your boss, John. I need some information on the current whereabouts of the Bedlam Boys. What have you got?”
    “Give me a minute to check, oh mighty lord and master, and I’ll see what I can dig out of the computer. Seems to me I heard something about them the other day. Do I take it it’s their turn for a good kicking? Oh happy day.” Cathy sounded bright and cheerful, but then she always did. I think she just did it to annoy me. “Okay, boss, got them. Seems they’re running the old protection racket again, down on Brewer Street. In fact, the computer’s getting updates from the crystal ball that they’re shaking down the Hot N Spicy franchise on Brewer Street right now. If you hurry, you should get there before they leave. If the blonde one’s there, feel free to give him a good slap on my account.”
    Part of Cathy’s duties, when she’s not working tirelessly to keep my business solvent in spite of me, is to keep track of all the major players in the Nightside, where they are, and who they’re doing this week. Information is currency, and forewarned is definitely forearmed. Cathy makes a lot of contacts through her incessant clubbing, and her cheerful willingness to chat, drink, and dance with anyone still warm and breathing. It helps that she can chat, dance, and drink under the table pretty much anyone who isn’t actually already dead and pickled. Cathy seems to regard alcohol as a food group, and has the endless energy of every teenager. It also helps that she’s sweet and pretty and charming, and people like to talk to her. They tell her things they’d never tell anyone else, and Cathy feeds it all into the computer.
    There was a time I’d have been doing the rounds myself, but I just don’t have the energy any more to drink and debauch till dawn. Especially since dawn doesn’t ever happen. It’s always night in the Nightside. Luckily, Cathy seems to positively thrive on a regular diet of booze, caffeine, and adrenaline, and is on a first-name basis with practically every doorman and bouncer in the Nightside. You’d be surprised what people will say in front of them, not even noticing they’re there because, after all, they’re only servants.
    I do keep up my own circle of contacts, of course. Old friends and enemies. You’d be surprised how often they turn out to be the same person, as the years go by. Some movers, some shakers, and a few that most people don’t even suspect are major players. There aren’t many doors that are closed to me. People tell me things. Mostly because they’re afraid not to. And it all goes into the computer, too.
    Between us, Cathy and I keep tabs on most things and people that matter. Cathy updates every day, and is always busy trying to spot upcoming trends and significant connections. Though we nearly lost everything last month, when the mainframe got possessed by Sumerian demons, and we had to call in a technodruid to exorcise it. I’d never heard language like that before, and even after it was all over, the office still smelled of burning mistletoe for weeks.
    And I might add that the computer Helpline people were no bloody use at all.
    “I’m getting mass reports of angel sightings,” said Cathy. “Wings and blood everywhere, and several manifestation of statues weeping, bleeding, and soiling themselves. Either the Pholio Brothers are pushing a really potent brand of weed this week, or the Nightside’s being invaded. This got anything to do with you, John?”
    “Only indirectly.”
    “Angels in the Nightside … that is so cool! Hey, do you think you could get me a feather from one o their wings? I’ve got this new hat that could look absolutely killer with just the right feather…”
    “You want me to sneak up on an angel and rip out its pinfeathers, so you can make a fashion statement? Oh right, like that’s going to happen. No , Cathy. Stay away from the angels, as a personal