The Unnatural Inquirer

“It was,” said Walker.

“Can I quote you?” said Bettie.

“No,” said Walker. “What do you want from me, Taylor?”

“I want to know where the Collector is hiding out these days,” I said. “If anyone knows anything about the Afterlife Recording, it will be him. That’s if he hasn’t already got his fat sweaty hands on it, of course.”

“Of course,” said Walker. “Mark never could resist the challenge of the chase…Very well. The Collector is currently hiding his collection inside another collection. To be exact, inside the Museum of U

“An exclusive!” said Bettie, beaming happily.

“Not for long,” said Walker. “He’ll move again once he’s been found. Poor Mark.”

“You know the Collector personally?” said Bettie. “Is that how you know where he’s been hiding?”

“I know where everyone is,” said Walker. “That’s my job.”

“Do you know where the offices of the U

“Yes.”

“Ah,” said Bettie Divine. “Then I’d better contact the Sub-Editor and tell him to tone down tomorrow’s editorial.”

“I would,” said Walker. He looked back at me. “I can’t speak for what kind of reception you can expect from Mark. The three of us might have worked together to end the Lilith War, but you can’t rely on that to mean anything. His collection is all that really matters to him these days. He’s come a long way from the man I and your father once knew. Don’t turn your back on him.”

I considered the point. “Can I say you sent me?”

Walker shrugged. “If you think it’ll do any good. Find the Recording, John. And then, if you’ve got any sense, destroy it.”

“The U

“There is that,” said Walker. “Certainly I couldn’t think of a better way to discredit it.”

Bettie started to say something else, but I took her firmly by the elbow, levered her up out of her chair, nodded quickly to Walker and moved her off towards the door. She made a show of fighting me, but I could tell she was glad of a way to leave Walker without losing face.

“The way you and he talked,” she said, as we walked across the lobby. “You two are close, aren’t you? I never knew that. I don’t think anyone does…There’s a lot going on there that you’re not telling me.”

“Of course,” I said. “I’m protecting you.”

“From what?”

“From never being able to sleep again.”

We left the Londinium Club, and strolled unhurriedly through the sleazy streets of the Nightside. Amber light from the street-lamps was easily shouldered aside by the fierce electric colours of the flashing neon signs, and the grubby pavements were crowded with preoccupied, anxious figures, all intent on their own private dreams and damnations. Sweet sounds and madder music blasted out of the open doors of clubs where the fun never stopped, and you could dance till you dropped. Brazen windows showed off all the latest temptations, barkers boasted of the attractions to be found inside for the discerning patron, and sin went walking openly down the street in the very latest fuck-me shoes.

The traffic roared past, never slowing, never stopping, because it wasn’t there for us.

Visiting the Londinium Club’s dining-room had made me peckish, so I stopped at a concession stand and treated Bettie and me to something wriggling on a stick. The meat was sharp and spicy, and just a bit crunchy.

“Would I regret it if I was to ask exactly what this is that I’m eating?” said Bettie, as we continued down the street.

“Almost certainly,” I said cheerfully.

“Then I won’t ask. Am I supposed to eat the head, too?”

“If you want.”

“But it’s looking at me!”

“Then eat it from the other end.”

“You really know how to show a girl a good time, Taylor.”

We walked a while in silence, chewing thoughtfully.

“I’ve never been to the Museum of U

“They’ve got a Tyra

Bettie threw away her stick and looked at me. “What, the complete skeleton?”

“No, in a cage.”

Her eyes widened. “Wow; a real T. rex! I wonder what they feed it…”

“People who litter, probably.”

The Museum of U

I walked steadily forward into the glass tesseract, Bettie clinging firmly to my arm again, and almost immediately we were standing in the Museum’s entrance lobby. I say almost immediately; there was a brief sensation of falling, of alien voices howling all around, and a huge eye turning slowly to look in our direction…but you tend to take things like that in your stride in the Nightside. The lobby itself was quaintly and pleasantly old-fashioned. All polished oak and brass and Victorian fittings, marble floors with built-in mosaics, and any number of wire stands packed with books and pamphlets and learned volumes on sale, inspired by the many famous (or currently fashionable) exhibits. Once again the ticket barrier opened itself for me, and Bettie looked at me, impressed.

“This is even better than having an expense account. Did you do something important for the Museum, too?”

“No,” I said. “I think they’re just scared of me.”

The uniformed staff were all Neanderthals—big and muscular, with hairy hands, low brows, and chinless jaws filled with large blocky teeth. The deep-set eyes were kind, but distant. Neanderthals performed all the menial work in the Museum, in return for not being exhibits. They were also in charge of basic security, and rumour had it they were allowed to eat anyone they caught. I asked one to take us to the Director of the Museum, and he hooted softly before beckoning us to follow him. He had a piercing in one ear, and a badge on his lapel saying UNIONISE NOW!

He led us deep into the Museum, and Bettie’s head swung back and forth, trying to take in everything at once. I was almost as bad. The Museum really does have something for everyone. A miniature blue whale, presented in a match-box, to give it some scale. I wondered vaguely how it would taste on toast. More disturbingly, half of one wall was taken up with a Victorian display of stuffed and mounted wee winged fairies, pi

On a somewhat larger scale, one whole room was taken up with a single great diorama featuring the fabled last battle between Man and Elf. The dozens of full-sized figures were very impressive. The Men, in their spiked and greaved armour, looked brave and heroic, while the Fae looked twisted and evil. Which was pretty much the way it was, by all accounts. There was a lot of blood and gore and severed limbs, but I suppose you need that these days to bring in the tourists. Another huge diorama showed a pack of werewolves on the prowl, under a full moon. Each figure showed a different stage of the transformation, from man to wolf. They all looked u