Daemons Are Forever

Who’s got my Jaffa Cakes? You know I can’t function without Jaffa Cakes.

All weapons systems on line and available. Just find me a target and I’ll blow big meaty chunks out of it.

“Over there,” the Armourer said quietly in my ear. “See that large, intense type in the button-down suit? That’s Howard, the new head of Operations. I used to have him down in the Armoury with me, but he didn’t have the patience. But he was a hell of a lot smarter than the average Drood, so we put him here, and within a year he was ru

“Didn’t this use to be the old laundry?” I said.

“We contracted that out,” said the Armourer, “to make room for the new up-to-date Operations centre. The old one was constantly having to be upgraded, and was only held together with spit and sealing wax anyway. We’ve spent the last ten years installing the most sophisticated weapon systems this family has ever seen, along with the computers to run them. We could hold off a whole army from here.”

“If we could see them,” I murmured.

The Armourer scowled. “I don’t understand it. The grounds are jam-packed with all kinds of surveillance. A mole couldn’t fart without us knowing all about it. Ah, Howard! Good to see you.”

“Good?” he snapped, slamming to a halt right in front of us. “What’s bloody good about it? I blame you for this, Edwin.”

“Somehow, I had a feeling you might,” I said. “Hello, Howard.”

He sniffed loudly. He was large and blocky, with a red face and a prematurely receding hairline. His hands were clenched into frustrated fists at his sides.

“Hall security has been an utter shambles, ever since you and your girlfriend walked straight through all our best defences,” he said bitterly. “They’re very sensitive. You upset them. Took us weeks to get them calmed down and operating properly again, and now this! Are those more of your friends out there?”

“I very much doubt it,” I said. “And Howard, keep it down to a roar when you speak to me, there’s a good chap. Or I will have Molly turn you into something small and wet and squishy, which I shall then step on.”

“What am I?” said Molly. “Your attack dog?”

“You know you love it,” I said.

“Grrr,” said Molly.

I looked back at Howard. “Let us all keep very calm and professional about this, while we figure out what the hell’s going on.”

Howard sniffed loudly again. “Yes. Well…We’re doing the best with the equipment available to us. You try ru

I began to like him a little better. “I’ll bet that went down well,” I said.

He smiled slightly for the first time. “I was escorted out of the War Room so fast my feet didn’t even touch the ground. All right, everybody, let’s try the sensors again. Boost the power and plug in all the options; see if we can scare up a useful image or two for our illustrious guests. As long as you understand this is all your fault, Edwin. Whatever happens.”

“Story of my life,” I said.

The head of Operations moved quickly back and forth among his people, encouraging here, cajoling there, getting the best out of them with quiet efficiency. The Hall’s defence systems sprang into life, searching for a target; enough firepower to blow a hole through the moon or blast it right out of orbit. I watched, fascinated, as the holographic displays showed hundreds of guns rising up out of the wide lawns, their long barrels sweeping back and forth as the fire computers struggled to lock on. Sonic weapons, particle beams, nerve gasses, stroboscopic lights, and hallucinogenic mists…And no, we don’t give a damn about the Geneva Conventions. If I’d known about all of this, I’d never have dared to break in Of course, I’d had the Confusulum then, to back me up. Hopefully our mysterious new intruders didn’t.

Howard came back to join us. His face looked even more flushed, and he’d actually unbuttoned his tie. “We’re still having problems getting a clear image of our intruders. We’ve narrowed down the location to somewhere near the lake, not far from the boating sheds, but something in their basic nature is confusing the hell out of the sensors.”

“I heard someone use the word Infernal,” said Molly.

“Yes, well,” said Howard. “That’s always a worrying word to hear, isn’t it? Most of our defences are scientific these days, rather than magical or mystical.”

“Then let me help,” said Molly. “I know a lot about things Infernal.”

She moved over to the nearest workstation, muttering certain unpleasant Words under her breath, and then leant past a startled technician and thrust her left hand and arm through his monitor screen. Her arm ghosted through the screen right up to the elbow, and suddenly the whole Operations Room was full of a bright otherworldly light as Molly’s magic manifested in all the systems at once. Discharging energies sputtered around her like ethereal fireworks. A great surge of power swept through all the workstations as her magic melded with and boosted all the Operations Room systems. And just like that an image appeared on the air before us, showing a crystal clear view of two men standing together beside the lake, right in the middle of the Hall’s extensive grounds. The image zoomed in to give us a close look at their faces.

“You’re welcome,” said Molly.

Two ordinary-looking men, one my age, in his early thirties. Tall, pleasant enough, wire-rimmed glasses. The other was pale, dark-haired, disturbingly handsome. He looked young enough, until you looked into his very dark eyes, and then he seemed a hell of a lot older. Just two men, standing together. No army. No obvious threat. Except they couldn’t have got this far unless they were quite extraordinary people.

Howard leant forward sharply. “That’s it! We’re locked on! Stand by, people, we’re going to hit them with everything we’ve got!”

“No you’re not,” said the Armourer. “We need to talk to them. And besides, it wouldn’t do any good.”

“What?” Howard looked at the Armourer, baffled.

“I know who they are,” said the Armourer. “Or at least, I recognise who one of them is, and what the other one is. The one with the glasses is family.”

“Ah,” said Howard bitterly. “I might have known. Only family could get past family defences.” He peered dubiously at the image. “Can’t say I recognise him.”

“You wouldn’t,” said the Armourer. “He hardly ever comes home. That’s Harry Drood. James’s only legitimate son.”

“And, unfortunately, I recognise the other guy,” I said. “I met him once before, briefly, in the prison cells under Manifest Destiny’s old headquarters. They’d imprisoned him inside a pentacle, and cut out his tongue, just in case. And he was still the most dangerous thing there. He’s a half-breed demon, offspring of a succubus. I left him there to die when I brought Truman’s operation crashing down around his head…I should have killed the u

“You never had the chance,” said Molly. “Half-breeds like that are very hard to kill. They may look like us, but they all have one foot in the Pit. But what’s he doing here, side by side with a Drood?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But it’s not going to be anything good. Harry Drood…I’ve heard stories about him.”

“Most of them are true,” said the Armourer. “Harry’s always been one of our best field agents, if a little too independent. Not unlike you, Eddie, in many ways.”

“But why appear out of nowhere like this?” I said. “In the company of a demon?”

“You killed his father,” said the Armourer.

“Yes,” I said. “That’s going to haunt me for the rest of my life, isn’t it?”

“At least now we know how they got in,” said Howard, sounding a little more cheerful. “No mystery anymore. Our defence systems were never designed to recognise something as rare or u