Nightside 09 - Just Another Judgement Day

before are cropping up now with regrettable regularity.”
    “So all kinds of agents for the Good could be turning up here?” I said.
    “Or agents of Evil,” said Suzie.
    “Well, quite,” murmured Walker. “As if things weren’t complicated enough . . .”
    “Still,” I said, “what’s bringing the Walking Man here now ?”
    “It would appear he disapproves of the new Authorities,” said Walker. “The group whose interests I now represent.”
    “That’s why you’re here!” I said. “Because if they’re in danger, so are you!”
    Walker smiled and said nothing.
    “Who are they?” said Suzie. “These new Authorities? The old bunch were nothing more than faceless businessmen who ran things because they owned most of the Nightside. So, are we talking about their families? The next generation? Meet the new boss, same as the old boss, don’t get screwed again?”
    “The inheritors?” said Walker, with something very like a sniff. “They wish. We saw them off. One quick glimpse of what actually goes on here, and they couldn’t sell their holdings fast enough. No . . . Certain personages in the Nightside have come together to represent the main interests in this place. Essentially, the Nightside is now determined to run itself.”
    “Who, exactly?” I said. “Who are these brand-new self-appointed Authorities? Do I know them?”
    “Some of them, certainly,” said Walker. “They all know you. That’s why I’m here.”
    “How can you serve people from the Nightside?” I said, honestly curious. “You’ve never made any secret about your feelings for us. You always said the best thing to do would be to nuke the place and wipe out the whole damned freak show once and for all.”
    “I’ve mellowed,” said Walker. “Just possibly, these new Authorities can bring about real change, from within. I would like to see that, before I die. Now, come with me and meet the new Authorities. Hear what they have to say; learn what they mean to do. Before the Walking Man tracks them down and kills them all.”
    “But what do they want with me and Suzie?” I said.
    Walker raised an eyebrow. “I would have thought that was obvious. They want you to use your gift to find the Walking Man, then find a way to stop him. Shall we go?”

THREE
    Not Really Fitting In at All at the Adventurers Club

    I let Suzie finish setting up the house’s defences while Walker and I stood outside in what used to be the garden, not looking at each other. Suzie always likes arming the hidden charges and taking the safeties off the concealed weaponry and contemplating the mayhem and general carnage that will undoubtedly ensue if anyone is dumb enough to try to get into the house while we’re out. One very professional burglar actually made it all the way to our front door once, and the door ate him. The letter-box was spitting out bone fragments for weeks afterwards.
    I was still thinking about what Walker had said. You’re my son, in every way that matters. You can’t just drop an emotional bomb-shell like that into the conversation and expect everyone to act all business-like afterwards, as though nothing had happened. Unless you’re Walker, I suppose. That calm, collected, cold-hearted functionary, who only runs the Nightside because he doesn’t trust anyone else to do the job properly. Who always has an agenda, and a secret goal hidden inside every end game. Was he telling the truth this time? With Walker you could never tell, until it was too late. And what did I feel about him, after all these years? He’s always been there, in the background of my life, sometimes helping, sometimes watching, sometimes sending his dogs after me. He’s tried to have me killed on several occasions, but I never took that personally. For Walker, it was always just business.
    I respected him. Even admired him on occasion, from a safe distance. But you couldn’t like Walker. He wouldn’t let you. He never let anyone get close enough to see the real him.
    Suzie slammed the front door shut and muttered the last few activating Words, then I led us down the safe path, through the mine-field. Walker strode casually along beside me, swinging his furled umbrella like a walking-stick. Typical of the man. You could set fire to his old-school tie, and it still wouldn’t affect his stiff upper lip. Walker was old school all the way, and proud of it. Family means a lot, to people like him. It’s all they’ve got outside duty.
    Once we were