Crashing Heaven (29 page)

Chapter 41

‘Stabsy!’

Fist rushed to embrace Mr Stabs, his spacesuit disappearing as he reached and clutched him. Mr Stabs jerked an arm up, patted at Fist, and then let it fall. His awkward movement ended the hug.

‘I’m sorry to see you’ve been hurt,’ he said, speaking with a grating singsong quality. Alert eyes peered out of holes raggedly cut in a baggy head mask, hand-stitched from white fabric. He was dressed in dirty blue overalls and heavy work boots. One shoulder was pulled up slightly higher than the other. But for a slight stoop, he would have been taller than Jack.

‘I’ve had worse,’ shrugged Fist. He stepped back and looked up at Mr Stabs. ‘We’re going to have such fun!’ he said, his joy suddenly sounding a little forced. The airlock hissed air back into space, reminding them where they’d come from and why they were there.

‘We have business to attend to,’ Mr Stabs responded coldly. He turned to Jack and jerked out an arm. Every part of him shuddered. Jack shook his hand, half-expecting to squeeze hardwood, but there was only soft flesh and a weak, uncertain grip. He was glad not to see Tiamat’s face animated by another mind. He imagined how his own would look when fully possessed by Fist and shuddered.

‘It was very brave of Grey, returning to Heaven to ask for my help,’ Mr Stabs told him. ‘Any one of the Pantheon could have picked up his presence. If Kingdom found out how active he still was, he’d crush him like—’

His hand came up. His fingers moved jerkily, not quite pinching together.

‘Fortunately for us, he hasn’t,’ said Jack. ‘And Grey said you’d help us.’

‘I can get you into Kingdom’s compound. The rest is up to you.’

‘Then let’s get over there.’

‘It’s night here. You go first thing tomorrow. Until then, it’s back home to sleep. Follow me.’

Mr Stabs lurched, wheeled round, and began to walk. He swayed left and right with each pace, but managed to move with reasonable speed. His head jerked back towards them. ‘Come on!’ he shouted, ‘I don’t want to be missed.’

[ He used to be the coolest of the cool,] said Fist, his voice hushed with pain.

[ Him and Tiamat both.]

[And now look at him.]

The journey took an hour or so. They followed Mr Stabs down indistinguishable corridors, up and down ladders, in and out of lifts. Every so often, there was a security door. Mr Stabs had a card he’d pull out to open it.

‘Can’t you just tell the doors to open?’ Fist asked him.

‘Kingdom burnt out my weave implants before he handed me over to Grey.’

‘No weave! But what do you do with yourself ?’

‘Feed my plants. Visit other gardeners.’

[ Fuck,] said Fist quietly to himself. [ No parties.]

Jack said nothing. Meeting Mr Stabs had been a shock for both of them. He wanted to let its impact settle before talking it through with Fist.

They found themselves walking through a vast subterranean forcing house. Bright lights blazed down on rows of vegetables. Sprays hissed water. The air had a humid, tropical feel, heavy with the scent of growth.

Jack breathed in deeply. ‘I’ve never smelt anything like it.’

‘My underworld,’ Mr Stabs replied proudly. ‘And now we climb into Heaven.’ He was standing at the foot of a short ladder, leading up to a metal hatch. ‘I’ll go first. Got to check nobody’s around.’ He moved up the ladder like a broken spider, then disappeared through the hatch. A moment later his white, covered head reappeared. ‘OK. Come up.’

Jack imagined himself wearing a similar hood, Fist trapped behind it. Fist snapped him out of his reverie. ‘Come on. What are you waiting for?’

Climbing up, they found themselves in a small wooden shed. Half of it was a living area – there was a low bed, a shower cubicle and a sofa. The rest was packed with gardening equipment. A spade and fork leant against the wall. There was a workbench, half-covered with a clutter of hand tools. A lawnmower’s metal entrails spilling across the floor. Wisps of curtain covered a window.

Mr Stabs shuddered over to it and, lifting the material, peered outside.

‘All’s quiet,’ he confirmed.

‘Where are we?’ Jack asked him.

‘Grey’s corporate space. You’ll see it tomorrow. For now, keep away from the window. I’ll make you up a bed.’ He rolled a sleeping mat out by the dead lawnmower and dropped some bundled sheets on to it. ‘Best we sleep now.’

‘Stabs,’ said Fist, ‘there’s so much we’ve got to talk about. The old days—’

‘No,’ said Mr Stabs, pain evident even through the squeak of his voice. ‘I don’t like to think about that.’ He moved to stand by his bed, leant forwards at the hip, bent backwards at the knee and collapsed into a rigid sitting position. His mask leapt up and fell back, for a moment revealing Tiamat’s familiar chin and lips. His mouth was turned down.

But Fist persisted. ‘What about the future? You and me, we’re the only puppets left. We’ve got to stick together.’

‘You’re only here because Grey told me what Kingdom’s done, what he might use you to do and what you’re going to do to him. I didn’t want to see you.’

‘What?’

Mr Stabs leant backwards and pulled his legs up on to the bed, then swivelled awkwardly round and collapsed back into a lying position.

‘You and Jack. You remind me so much of how I was with David. So arrogant. Then I spent months alone with him, deep in space. I watched him lose hope. I was inside him when he died. I am what I am now because of that. It changes your perspective.’ His head jolted round to face his guests. ‘You’re lucky, Hugo. It won’t be as hard for you. You’ve both got something very important to do. You’ll either succeed or die together. And if you do defeat Kingdom, you’ll have the memory of one last, shared triumph to hold on to when Jack’s gone. I only have pain and emptiness in my past. So we’ll sleep, and in the morning you’ll go, and I won’t see you again.’

‘Stabsy—’

‘I’m going to switch the light off. Then I take off my mask.’

[ There’s so much I want to talk to him about!]

[ Hush, Fist. You heard what he said.]

Jack lay down on the sleep mat, and pulled the sheets over him. There was a click, and the bare light bulb that lit the shed flicked off.

‘G’night Stabsy,’ chirped Fist hopefully. There was a rustling from Stabs’ corner of the room, but no reply.

[ He’s so different.]

[ He’s been through a lot. It changes people.]

[ Will I change like that, once I’m real?]

[ You’re real now. And you’ve changed, too – a little over the last few years, more over the last few weeks. Coming to life – well, that’s just one more change.]

Jack felt Fist tremble.

[ I’ll feel it, won’t I? When you go.]

[ That’s what Mr Stabs says.]

[ I’m so sorry, Jack. I wish I didn’t have to do it.]

[ You see, Fist? You have changed.]

[ It seems like such a waste. You’ll die – and I’ll end up like him.]

[ It won’t be as hard on you as it was on him. You’ll have a lot more good things to remember.]

A series of hiccupping squeaks and sniffles ran through Jack’s mind.

[ It’s such a waste, Jack! All this time waiting – and you’ll be gone – and I’ll just be a fucking freak!]

[ Hush, Fist. Can you manifest?]

[ I don’t want him to see me like this.]

[ You can show yourself just to me, can’t you?]

[ I suppose.]

Jack was lying on his side. He stretched out his arms and felt a sudden density come into being between them. Fist clutched at his chest, little fists snatching at his shirt. [ It’s all so fucking pointless!] he wailed. [ Is this all there is? For me? For us?]

[ Yes,] replied Jack, [it is.]

He wrapped his arms around Fist, pulling him in tight. Fist hiccupped grief, his wooden face burrowing into Jack’s chest. Jack felt a wetness against him. Fist was simulating tears.

[ It is,] continued Jack, [and we’ll do what we’ve always done. We’ll make the best of it together. And when I’ve gone you’ll remember me, and that’ll help you make the best of it then, too.]

Fist said nothing. Jack cradled his head, gently stroking it, careful to show no emotion but care.

[ This is what being human means, Fist. It’s not just about being free. It’s about feeling sad and weak and lost, and losing people you love, and watching moments that were perfect slip away from you forever. That’s not a bad thing. The only reason it hurts is because they were so wonderful in the first place. We meet each other then part, and we’re sad, and we console ourselves with all that’s still to come.]

[ You won’t even be in the Coffin Drives!]

Emotion had completely taken over Fist now. His sadness tore at Jack.

[ I know,] he replied. [ But that might be a good thing. You’ve seen how people here refuse to let the past go. You won’t be able to do that. You’ll have to find new, real things to make you happy. You won’t be able to hide in yesterday.]

[ But I don’t want to lose you!]

[ You won’t lose me. You’ll still remember me. And you come from me. As long as you’re alive, there’ll always be a part of me around.]

[ I’ll be so lonely! Stabs won’t speak to me! And those puppet embryos are bullshit, there’s never going to be anyone else like me!]

Fist sobbed incoherently into Jack’s chest, until finally his weeping subsided. He settled into a shattered sleep still nestled in Jack’s arms.

[Mr Stabs might keep you company after all,] Jack whispered, knowing Fist wouldn’t hear. [ You could grow vegetables together. You might even be able to help him leave the past behind, too. Or maybe those puppet embryos really did survive.] But even the thought of them made Jack uneasy. He gave Fist’s tiny wooden hand a final squeeze. [ But for now – dispel.] Fist vanished. A deep, exhausted sleep soon overcame Jack, too.

The next morning, Fist was determinedly cheerful. He went bounding over to the window, looked out, and then came rushing back. Mr Stabs was standing at the door, already dressed in his white mask and a pair of underpants.

‘So, Stabsy – what’s the plan?’

Mr Stabs held his blue overalls out. ‘Put these on, pretend you’re me, make your way to Kingdom’s headquarters. You can duplicate my weave tags, can’t you?

‘No problem,’ nodded Fist. ‘Will they just let us in?’

‘You’ll be delivering seed potatoes. Mine are very much admired. They don’t blight easily. That will get you to their gardeners. Then it’s over to you.’

Jack pulled on the overalls. They fitted tolerably well, looking as shapeless and ragged on him as they had on Mr Stabs.

‘Now for the tags,’ said Mr Stabs. ‘Fist, I’ve opened myself up to you.’

Fist closed his eyes for a moment. ‘I’ve copied them over,’ he nodded. ‘We’re you now, Stabsy.’

‘Good,’ replied Mr Stabs. ‘One last thing. Everyone’s used to this mask. You’ll have to take it. Are you ready?’

‘Yes,’ said Jack.

‘Wait,’ Fist cut in. ‘What if we get caught? And they find out you helped us?’

‘This is the only way you can get close enough to Kingdom to stop him. You’ll just have to make sure you come back safely.’ There was a sad hopelessness to his voice. ‘And if you don’t, well, I’ve lived long enough.’

Then he pulled his mask off.

His face was a frozen grimace, a rictus grin snapping his mouth up and pulling the flesh of his cheeks tight. His eyes were wide open, as if he’d just been surprised. His eyebrows arced upwards, pulled into semicircles by a permanently tight forehead.

‘I don’t have very many choices,’ he explained. The smile that distorted his face reversed, frowning downwards. His expressions were so tight that the corners of his mouth and the skin around his eyes and temples were permanently bruised.

‘I can look bored too. That’s the most comfortable.’

His face settled into a third configuration, his mouth a flat slit, his eyes marginally less manic than they’d been before.

[ It’s so cruel,] said Fist. [ They haven’t upgraded his facial expression software for his new face.]

‘Is it always like that?’ Jack couldn’t resist asking.

‘Always. I’m only a lodger in this body. I’ve never felt like I owned it.’

‘No hope of an upgrade?’

‘None. It’s why I live in this little shed, not the staff accommodation blocks. They made us puppets to reassure children. But now I’m flesh I scare their adults. My face is too obviously a simplification. The implications of that are very unpleasant for them. They live in a profoundly reduced world. I remind them of that, and it makes them afraid.’

‘You’ve become quite the philosopher,’ said Fist.

‘It’s only what I see. And now to point you in the right direction. Put the mask on, Jack, and let Fist ride you. There are some dangerous people out there. You’ve got to do everything you can to convince them you’re me.’

Chapter 42

The mask was subtly crafted. From the inside, it was transparent. Jack could feel it on him, pulling back against his mouth when he breathed in, puffing out as he exhaled, and he could smell the stale tang of Mr Stabs’ sweat, but he couldn’t see it.

[More sophisticated than it looks,] he said.

[ Very impressive,] replied Fist.

[Careful!]

Distracted for a moment, Fist forgot to let Jack’s foot drop down and complete a pace. Jack nearly overbalanced. He swayed for a moment, arms waving, then regained his balance and took another step.

[ I’m sorry,] said an audibly frustrated Fist. [ I’ve never walked on bumpy ground before.]

Mr Stabs’ shed was surrounded by about a hundred square metres of carefully tended vegetable patches. A line of willow trees obscured the landscape beyond. A few hundred metres above, Heaven’s glass ceiling burned with sunlight. Jack thought of Kingdom and Yamata, and wondered if they suspected how close he was to them, how much closer he would soon be.

Another jolt broke his reverie. Fist had let one foot slip off the side of the path, nearly twisting his ankle.

[ Be careful! We won’t get anywhere if we can’t walk!]

Fist was concentrating too hard to reply. He was walking Jack’s body towards a small garage, just inside the treeline. ‘That’s where I keep my buggy,’ Mr Stabs had told them. He’d given Jack a bag of seed potatoes. ‘This is what you’ll be delivering. I’ve talked to Kingdom’s people. They’re expecting you.’ Then he gave him a handgun and several clips of bullets.

The garage opened when Fist punched in the combination. He only had to try five times.

[ You know, I’m not sure I trust you in this buggy,] Jack told him.

[ Now you know what watching you pilot a spaceship feels like.]

The buggy had two seats and a large open boot. Its paintwork was scratched, its metalwork heavily dented. One of its front lights had been smashed. Fist shrugged the potato bag into the boot, unplugged the buggy from its charger and clambered into the driver’s seat. The steering wheel and control pedals were all oversized.

[ That should make it easier,] said Fist cheerfully, ramming down the accelerator.

They bounced out of the garage and straight off the road, cannoning between two willow trees. Branches snatched at Jack, almost pulling him from his seat.

[ FOR FUCK’S SAKE, FIST!
]

A small stream hurtled towards them. Fist threw the steering wheel around and kicked down on the brake pedal. The buggy shuddered to a halt.

[Perhaps you should let me drive,] said Jack. [ Nobody’ll notice that I’m in charge when we’re moving.]

[ How does he
do
this?] wondered Fist.

[ Judging by the state of the buggy, it took a lot of practice.]

[Oh. Right.]

Fist slipped out of Jack’s motor centres. Jack slumped then recovered himself. He reached out for the steering wheel and the accelerator pedal.

[Let’s go.]

[ Wait a moment,] said Fist. [Look over there. It’s Grey’s home.]

The stream ended in a small lake. Beyond it stood a campus of rectangular buildings. Each was all window, five storeys high. They caught and reflected a pastoral kaleidoscope of colours – greens and blues from the countryside around them, a dazzling gold-white from the sky above.

[ Not bad,] said Fist. Even Jack was slightly awed. This was the corporate home of Grey. It housed the fundamental processes that defined his patron’s consciousness. Jack wondered how the campus had looked when Grey had been fully engaged with the world.

‘Actually, not too different to now,’ said Grey.

‘Shit!’ Fist exploded.

‘Maybe a few more lights on,’ Grey continued, ignoring him. ‘Some more people here and there, everything a bit more purposeful.’

‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ snapped Jack.

‘This was my home,’ Grey replied casually. ‘Where else would I be? Besides, there’s a ghoulish fascination watching the dead parts of myself.’

‘Kingdom’ll kill you completely if he sees you here.’

‘I’ve become quite good at hiding. I saw all this coming a long time ago. I was prepared. Not like my staff, sadly.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘The centre did not hold. My board sleeps. Everyone who could transferred away from here. The ones that are left – well, it broke them. Look at that lot, for example.’

Grey pointed at a large pair of doors that led into an atrium. A small group pushed its way through them, carrying something long, flat and brightly coloured.

‘A stretcher,’ Jack noted. ‘Someone’s been hurt.’

‘Oh no,’ Grey told him. ‘They’re missing me. They’re trying to do something about it.’

The group walked the heavy stretcher down to the edge of the closest lake. There was a distant sound of chanting, thin voices losing themselves in the empty air.

‘I wish they knew I could hear them,’ sighed Grey. ‘I can’t ever show myself, though. Far too risky.’

‘What are they doing?’

They manhandled the stretcher into a small boat and stood back. Brightly coloured feathers waved in the air.

‘Is that someone tied to it?’

‘I can’t see. And I can’t get any closer to them, Kingdom would spot me.’

One of the small figures held her arms up in the air. The rest knelt round her and chanted. She threw something into the boat, then kicked it away from the shore. It drifted out across the lake. The group roared as flames leapt out of it.

‘I hope it was just a dummy,’ said Grey sadly.

‘I’m surprised you care,’ Jack told him.

‘Oh, I do. I’ve just accepted there’s not much I can do. That’s what you’re here for.’

‘I’m not trying to help you.’

‘No. But you’re not just out for yourself, are you? All those people need you. They need someone to show them a way out of this mess.’

‘Why isn’t the Pantheon helping them?’

‘Kingdom won’t let any of the others in. He livecasts all this to warn people what happens without gods.’

The small figures stripped and started rolling around in the grass, clumped together in groups of two, three and even four.

‘Most of us do our best, you know. We give you an awful lot, Jack.’

‘You take more back.’

‘We’re just trying to help you live, and we need to be alive ourselves to do that. But Kingdom – there’s something else going on there. He needs stopping. Not just for your sake or mine, but for everyone’s.’

‘There has to be change, Grey.’

‘Yes. But not on Kingdom’s terms.’

[ Why are you listening to this jerk, Jack?]

[ Hush.]

‘I’ll be watching. If I can, I’ll help you.’ Grey squeezed Jack’s knee. Despite himself, love flooded through him. ‘That wasn’t me, Jack. I’m not manipulating you now. Remember I’ve always done my best for you.’ Grey vanished as he spoke. His last words were a breeze in Jack’s ear. ‘None of it was just for me.’

[Creepy old fucker,] muttered Fist.

Jack kicked the buggy into movement, and set off again. It took them along the other side of the lake from the group of Grey worshippers. As they passed them a group of black-clad figures emerged from the main doors, ran across the grass, and started breaking up the orgy with baseball bats.

[ That’ll be security,] said Fist.

[ I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.]

The road crossed a bridge, then passed between two of the large glass buildings. A few of the offices were busy. The workers bending over their desks looked like little model figures. Some showed signs of the despair driving the group by the lake. One window was spattered with blood. A body hung from the ceiling of another. Every so often, there would be naked people. Some would be copulating, some perhaps sleeping, some just staring out at a world that no longer made sense.

[Grey’s incorporate,] said Jack. [Everyone’s strings have been cut.]

The parkland surrounding the offices showed signs of disturbance, too. Black, charred stumps implied a small glade of trees, burnt to the ground. A round white circle had been raggedly inscribed on the ground, a human head sketched out within it. There were signs of burning there too. Jack imagined other rituals.

A horn barked behind them, and they pulled off the road. A large buggy roared past, full of security operatives. ‘Watch out, Stabs!’ one of them shouted. It turned off the road ahead of them, bumping over grass, and disappeared behind another building.

[ The sooner we get out of here, Fist, the better.]

[ I’m surprised that Stabs hasn’t had any problems.]

[ They must be too afraid of him.]

Ahead of them, a metal fence marked the edge of Grey’s domain. The road stopped at a checkpoint. An armed security guard waved them down. Jack recognised Kingdom sigils on his uniform.

[ You’d better take back over, Fist.]

A tight grin carved itself into Jack’s face as it became Fist’s. It was lucky they were moving so slowly. Fist could just about keep them on the road. When they pulled up by the guard Jack felt very relieved.

‘Hello, Stabs. Where are you off to?’

‘Making a delivery to Kingdom.’ Fist had possessed Jack’s voice, too. ‘It should be on your transport log,’ he squeaked. The guard reached forward and lifted the silk mask. Fist used Jack’s face to grin at him. ‘It’s me, all right!’ The guard winced and let the mask drop.

‘I’ve seen some scary things in there, but you’re the worst.’

[Don’t rise to the bait, Fist.]

‘You can pass.’

And they were on their way. The road quickly joined a much larger one. It ran between the different corporate headquarters that had colonised the fields of Heaven. Looking back, they could see that the fence ran all the way around Grey’s complex. There were guard towers at regular intervals. Ahead of them, there was nothing but soft, green landscape. A gentle breeze floated across it. birdsong drifted from small, scattered glades, nestling in gently rolling hills.

[ You know what I’ve just realised,] said Jack.

[ What?]

[ None of this is weave. It’s all real.]

[ Fucking gods, keeping the best for themselves.]

It took them almost an hour to reach Kingdom’s compound. There was very little traffic on the road. They passed The Twins and Sandal’s headquarters along the way. Halfway through the journey, Fist announced that he was bored. Suddenly there were three black hounds tracking them at right, and four at left. The dogs ran across the countryside, pacing out the miles with loose, loping steps. Their eyes blazed with fire and their tongues danced in their mouths like burning whips. At last, they neared Kingdom’s headquarters. The pack drifted into invisibility. They turned into an access road and Kingdom’s base rose up before them – a vast square block, several storeys high, with a high, dark tower rising out of each corner.

[ It looks like an upside down table,] Fist commented.

[ I’m sure that wasn’t the effect Kingdom was going for.]

[ You’re going to have to take my body again in a moment.]

[ Busy just now. I’m cracking Kingdom’s security protocols. Even easier the second time.]

A security booth appeared in front of them. Jack slowed down.

[ You need to take over
NOW
.]

Fist stepped into his body at the last possible moment. The guard asked for ID. Jack heard his own voice speak another’s words. The small inquisition was quickly done, and they were on their way again.

[Much more relaxed than the one at Grey’s,] commented Fist.

[Grey’s people are more difficult to deal with.]

[ Would you all be like that, without your gods?]

[ No,] snapped Jack. [ How’s the breaking and entering going?]

[ I’m in their systems. I’ve unlocked an emergency door for us to use. Then I’ll get us straight to Yamata.]

[ We’ve got a delivery to make first. It’ll look suspicious if we don’t.]

Kingdom’s gardeners worked a small farm space behind his headquarters. His gardeners were very grateful for the delivery. ‘I guess we’re even now,’ one of them said. Another punched Jack on the shoulder when Fist limped him off the buggy. ‘Always good to see you, Stabs.’ Fist had Jack chat with them and share a few jokes, before making excuses about the need to return, ‘to keep an eye on things’. There were nods, a slap on the back, a half-muttered comment about ‘it’s tough over there’. As they drove away Fist commented, [ They really seem to respect him.] There was a hint of relief in his voice.

They hid the buggy in bushes by the emergency door. It hissed open as they approached it. A long corridor stretched away from them, brutally lit by fluorescent lights. Fist let Jack take his body back.

[ That’s a relief,] sighed Jack.

[All that flesh! It’s too big and too blundery. Not an easy ride.]

[ You need to grow up in one to really get it. Now, let’s go. You’ve definitely broken their security?]

[ We won’t be tripping any alarms. And I’ll be keeping us out of the way of Kingdom’s staff.]

Fist led Jack on a complex dance through the building. They passed large open spaces packed with cubicles, meeting rooms where all eyes watched invisible presentations on empty walls, production spaces where white-coated figures tended machines that throbbed gently in semi-darkness, server farms where drive stacks henged into the distance. Sometimes Fist urgently whispered [Stop,] or [Duck left,] or [ Hide in there!] Jack would find himself dodging invisible enemies, as someone walked by just behind the last door or round the last corner.

When he wasn’t giving instructions, Fist was unusually quiet and focused. Jack assumed that he was concentrating hard on the task at hand.

They soon found themselves in a nondescript facilities room. A service lift door, about twice as high as Jack, loomed out of a treated concrete wall.

[Pretty dull, eh?]

[ Nothing special,] Jack agreed.

[So we’re meant to think. But I’m a lot smarter than they are.]

Fist overlaid his understanding of the corridor space on Jack’s. The air buzzed, dense with energy. Cobweb-light lines of security code drifted through it.