Nightside 11 - A Hard Days Knight

bundled everything up, being very careful what I touched, packed it into the black plastic garbage bag provided, slipped on the complimentary dressing gown, and stepped out of the cubicle. Suzie was already there waiting for me, with her own bulging bag. She was also wearing a dressing gown. Mine was a smart navy blue, hers was a shocking pink. She looked at me.
    “One wrong word at this moment, and you will never see me naked again.”
    “Perish the thought,” I said gallantly.
    We took our bags over to the counter, and Tracy accepted them from us while wearing heavy-duty rubber gloves. She held the bags at arm’s length, pulled a variety of faces, none of them good, and glared at Suzie and me.
    “Did you remember to empty everything out of the pockets?”
    “Don’t worry about the trench coat,” I said. “It can take care of itself. Suzie?”
    “I already removed the weapons,” said Suzie. “They’re in another bag, back in the cubicle. Don’t let anyone touch that bag if they like having all their fingers.”
    Tracy slapped two customer numbers on the counter before us and disappeared out the back with the bags. There was a pause, followed by some loud if rather muffled bad language. Suzie and I moved away from the counter and went to sit in the chairs provided and read the nice magazines. I settled down with the Nightside edition of Empire , and read what Kim Newman had to say about the latest films: Butch Cassidy and the Cthulhu Kid , Clive Barker’s Transformers , and the rediscovered Orson Welles classic, his Batman movie, Citizen Wayne . Sometimes it’s nice to sit back, put your feet up, and enjoy a little light reading. Suzie had Which Magazine: Weapons of Mass Destruction, A Consumer’s Guide .
    I could still feel Excalibur in its invisible scabbard on my back. Removing my clothes hadn’t disturbed it in the least.
    Our clothes were back inside half an hour, spotlessly clean and impressively immaculate. My trench coat was so white it practically glowed, while someone had taken the time to polish every last bit of metal on Suzie’s outfit, from the rivets to the steel toe-caps to all the remaining bullets in her bandoliers. Suzie and I took our clothes back into the cubicles, and I soon emerged feeling like a new man. And able to breathe through my nose again. Suzie stepped out of her cubicle, fussing with the two bandoliers so they crossed right over her bosom. She never looks impressed with anything, on general principles, but she didn’t seem too displeased. Tracy beckoned us back to the counter and slapped the bill down before me. I took a look. I didn’t know numbers went that high. For a moment, I actually considered telling her to put all the filth back on. Instead, I shook my head and smiled condescendingly at Tracy.
    “I have decided I don’t need to pay any of my bills in the Mammon Emporium. Partly because I am the new Walker, and if any establishment annoys me, I can have it shut down on moral health grounds. But mostly because I have recently saved this entire place from being blown up by a soulbomb, and if anyone gets stroppy, I can always bring back the Things from Outside and let the merchants deal with the bloody things. Any questions?”
    “Go ahead,” said Tracy. “See if I care. They don’t pay me enough to deal with people like you.”
    “There are no people like us,” said Suzie.
    “Got that right,” I said.

    Squeaky clean and utterly fragrant, Suzie and I made the long trip out of the Nightside and back into London Proper. Suzie insisted on accompanying me this time, and I didn’t have the heart to say no. She stuck close to me at all times, and though she wouldn’t give up any of her weapons, she at least kept her hands away from them. People gave us all kinds of funny looks as we strode down Oxford Street, but no-one actually said anything. They didn’t want to get involved. We finally came to a halt in front of where the Green Door wasn’t, and I struck an impressive pose.
    “It’s me! I’m back! And I bear important news concerning Excalibur and King Arthur.” There was a long pause. The Green Door remained firmly absent. I scowled at the blank wall before me. “Come on! You know who I am!”
    “Yes,” said a wary voice from nowhere. “We know who you are. But we also know who that is standing beside you. That’s Shotgun Suzie, isn’t it?”
    “She’s with me!”
    “I know. That’s the problem. I’ll have to check.”
    The voice