The Bride Wore Black Leather

everyone’s tits big-time. Somehow he or she or it had become unstuck in time, and apparently now saw Past, Present, and Future as simply different directions to look in, and now it seemed to feel a duty to apprise certain people of upcoming significant events. In the most obscure, meaningless, and upsetting ways possible. People only put up with the B9 Presence because, well . . . any edge is better than none. The shimmering, almost human shape bobbed and sparkled before me, its voice a rasping whisper.
    “What is the one experience left, for the man who has everything? Why, losing it all, of course. Beware the Ides of the March Hare. The Past is never over; it lies in wait, to ambush us. And even the longest night must someday give way to the dawn . . .”
    It was gone before I could come up with an appropriate response, so I shrugged, and continued on.
    •  •  •
    My office was located on the third floor of a tall, ultramodern high-tech building: all gleaming steel and one-way mirrored windows, turning a cold blank face to the rest of the world. The number of floors in the building tended to vary, depending on how successful the various businesses inside were, on any given occasion, and how much sub-letting was going on. Certainly my building was every bit as tall as those surrounding it. Just looking up at the top of the thing gave me a kind of reverse vertigo, as though my feet might suddenly lose their grip on the pavement, leaving me to fly up into the night sky, flailing helplessly. I pulled my gaze away with an effort, shook my head firmly a few times, and strode up to the closed front door.
    The only entrance to the building was a large and very solid-looking door of old oak, polished and waxed to within an inch of its life and looking distinctly out of place in such a modern setting. But the best security measures are always based in magic as much as science, and for the best results, it’s always best to go old school. There was no bell, no knocker, not even a door-handle, so I hammered on the gleaming wooden surface hard enough to hurt my hand, then stepped smartly back. The sound of my knocking was somehow dull and soft around the edges, as though the wood was swallowing up the sound. A face appeared before me, rising out of the wood, like a swimmer emerging from the depths to break the surface of the water. The face formed itself out of the door, taking its shape and features from the old wood—not a human face, as such, but full of human emotions, the better to deal with human visitors. It yawned slowly and a bit sullenly, as though awakened from deep slumber, then the face fixed me with its blank eyes, and scowled harshly as it recognised me.
    “Oh bloody hell, it’s you again. No need to announce yourself, John Taylor. Everyone here knows you, whether they want to or not. What do you want? I was having a really nice dream about wood nymphs, and it wasn’t only my sap that was rising.”
    “Open up,” I said ruthlessly. “I’ve got a lot to do today, and arguing with snotty simulacra is not on my list.”
    “You can’t come in unless you know the password,” said the door, cunningly. “What’s today’s password?”
    “There is no password! There’s never been a password, and you know it! Now tell Cathy I’m here, or I’ll rub your surface down with a wire brush!”
    The face in the door pouted. “Go on. Abuse me! It’s what I’m here for. No-one ever wants to chat, or pass the time. I miss being a tree. I’d throw my nuts at you if I only knew where they were. I’m supposed to be a security measure, you know. Hah! Hah, I say! Half the people who come here try to stuff letters in my mouth.”
    “Get a move on,” I said, unfeelingly. “I’ve got a lot to get through before my wedding tomorrow.”
    “Ooh! Ooh! A wedding!” said the face excitedly, rising and falling in the wood. “I love weddings! Can I come? Please say I can come! I’ll be very quiet and not get in the way. You could lean me against a wall at the back of the church. I promise I’ll be very good and not bother anyone.”
    “We’ll see,” I said, wondering how I got into these kinds of conversations. “Now tell Cathy I’m here and want in.”
    “Oh Cathy!” said the face. “The big boss is here again! Are you ready to receive him, or do you need time to get all those naked people out of the office first?”
    The reply must have been of an affirmative nature because the face