The Demi-Monde: Summer (14 page)

The prospect of so much suffering delighted the Empress to
the extent that she was persuaded to indulge in another river cucumber. As Mao averted his eyes, he caught sight of one of his assistants signalling to him from across the room.

‘I am pleased to announce, Your Majesty, that the Daemon known as Norma Williams has been delivered to the Forbidding City.’

Norma’s rearrest by the Amazons was easy to stage. When she emerged from the safe house, day had most definitely dawned, the rain had eased a little and the streets were crawling with pink-jacketed soldiers searching for her, so it was a simple matter for her and her two escorts to ‘accidentally’ bump into a pair of Amazons. After a suitably convincing sword fight, Norma found herself once more wearing a set of manacles and
riding in the back of a closed steamer guarded by a very resolute-looking CaptainFemme.

Her journey to the Forbidding City took just over an hour, and when the steamer finally wheezed to a halt and the doors were thrown open she found herself attended by a tall, portly man in flowing silk robes embroidered with golden dragons who was standing, protected from the rain by a large pink umbrella held by an enormously muscular guard. He bowed to Norma. ‘I am Imperial Secretary Mao ZeDong, First Administrator and Most Senior NoN in the Court of Great Empress Wu, Mistress of the Demi-Monde, of the Great Beyond and of all the Kosmos, Blessed and Much Beloved by ABBA and Defender of the Faith of HerEticalism.’ The man’s voice was peculiarly high-pitched and he spoke in a strange lilting manner but this, Norma supposed, was what happened when a guy had his nuts chopped off. His English, though accented, was, however, impeccable.

It would, Norma decided, be impolite not to return the bow, but even as she did so she found it impossible to take her eyes off the man … off the
former
man, she corrected herself. Covenite NoNs were famous throughout the Demi-Monde but this was the first time she had ever seen one of these exotic creatures up close.

Of course she recognised the Dupe, having studied his image on the Polly back in the Real World when she had been preparing an essay on the history of Communist China, though she had never imagined Mao ZeDong looking quite so … divine. The pictures she’d seen had always shown him dressed in an artless military uniform with a forage cap plonked atop his melon of a head, so the long moustache, pigtail and over-elaborate robe came as something of a surprise, as did the mist of heavy perfume that shrouded him. Unfortunately, the perfume wasn’t heavy enough to disguise the unmistakable odour of urine that clung to his clothes.

Odd
.

‘You are not permitted beyond this point, CaptainFemme,’ Mao advised as he handed the officer a sealed warrant. The Covenites seemed obsessed with paperwork. ‘This is the authorisation indicating that I have taken ownership of the prisoner. I and my GuardNoNs’ – he indicated the two oversized men standing behind him – ‘will now take responsibility for the Daemon.’

As the steamer puffed away, Mao bowed Norma towards a bright yellow palanquin, itself adorned with the same dragon motifs he wore on his kimono. ‘You are to be brought to the Forbidding City, Femme Williams, and to do this we must cross the Bridge of the Heavenly Divide.’ He pointed a finger towards the preposterously narrow bridge that spanned the huge moat that circled the City. ‘We must ride in the Imperial Palanquin as the bridge is built to break under the weight of a steamer.’

Norma and Mao clambered inside the litter, which was lifted onto the shoulders of four brutally strong BearerNoNs who immediately set off at a trot, carrying them across the hundredmetre span of the bridge. As they went on their swaying way, Mao kept up his commentary. ‘The Bridge of the Heavenly Divide is the only way in and out of the Forbidding City. Beneath us is the Moat of UnMerciful Vengeances, its deep water covering a myriad of sharpened spikes designed to deter even the most determined of attackers.’

It was then that a series of distant explosions rocked the quietude of Beijing. Curious about what was happening, Norma glanced out of the window and saw, on the other side of the Coven, beyond the Great Wall, trails of artillery shells looping over from the ForthRight and smashing into Rangoon. The war with the ForthRight that Su Xiaoxiao had been so anxious about had obviously begun.

‘That’s ForthRight artillery, Imperial Secretary, so I’ve got a
feeling that soon you’re going to need all the deterring you can get. By the look of it, the ForthRight is preparing to invade.’

Mao dismissed her comment with a negligent wave of his hand. ‘The ForthRight is of no concern; the Covenite army will brush these disgusting UnFunDaMentalist pig-dogs aside with no more effort than I might use to swat a fly.’

Yeah, right
.

With a shrug Norma turned her attention back to the study of the wonders of the Forbidding City. One of the more peculiar aspects she noted was that they appeared to be going
uphill
and, as she had always understood the Demi-Monde’s Urban Band to be flat, this came as something of a surprise.

Mao explained. ‘The Forbidding City is built on a motte formed from a circular outcrop of Mantle-ite precisely one kilometre in diameter which rises fifty metres above the surface of the Demi-Monde. It is unique in all of the Demi-Monde. Scholars speculate that it was formed by our Ancestors, the preChinks, at the same time they constructed the Great Wall.’

The palanquin came to a rolling halt and Norma was helped to disembark by a BearerNoN. She was grateful to be back on her own two feet; her trip across the bridge had left her feeling as queasy as she’d been aboard the WarJunk.

Coming to stand beside her, Mao pointed to the massive gates that towered over them. ‘These are the Meridian Gates which bar the way into the utopia that is the Forbidding City. Only a select and privileged few ever see the wonders that are hidden behind them.’

The gates
were
impressive: at least a hundred feet high, coloured a deep, foreboding red, and set into the huge wall that circled the City. They looked incredibly formidable. Studying them, Norma decided that maybe Mao’s dismissive attitude towards the ForthRight was well grounded; it was
difficult to imagine any artillery being powerful enough to smash them down.

Their approach had been observed; from high up on the walls a gong sounded and immediately the gates began to open. Giving Norma yet another bow, Mao motioned her ahead of him and into the City. ‘This is the private domain of the Empress Wu. Only the most honoured and beautiful of Femmes and the most faithful and loyal of NoNs are allowed to live in the Forbidding City, and of course, once they are within the City walls, none are ever permitted to leave.’

Terrific
.

‘None of them?’

‘Only the Empress and, of course, myself may leave the City.’

Abandon hope all ye who enter here
…
especially if your name’s Norma Williams
.

Entering the Forbidding City was like stepping into a fantasy world of pagodas, swooping yellow-tiled roofs, red-brick walls, immaculately paved courtyards and a plethora of statues of dragons. But the thing that impressed Norma the most was how
clean
the City was: so clean that it looked for all the world like a Disneyfied version of a Chinese palace.

And the Femmes and NoNs who were scuttling about the place were as curious as their setting. All the girls were dressed in beautifully embroidered kimonos – no boiler suits for them – their shaven heads decorated with elaborate silver tiaras rendered in the shapes of leaves and birds. But the NoNs populating the City seemed determined not to be outdone: their robes were equally fine and their penchant for make-up gave their faces a peculiarly dramatic and other-worldly cast.

‘So there are no men – nonFemmes – within the Forbidding City.’

‘No. Such a thought is disgusting to HerEticalism; only NoNs are permitted to grace the Forbidding City.’

‘That seems a rather draconian policy.’

‘Not at all,’ said Mao as he guided Norma through a side door and along an elaborately decorated corridor, ‘it is eminently sensible. Undiluted and unrestrained masculinity is anathema to HerEticalism … indeed, MALEvolence is anathema to the very concept of civilised behaviour. The Forbidding City is MostBien in microcosm; it shows what the Demi-Monde might be if it was freed of the contamination of unneutered nonFemmes.’

‘But isn’t becoming a NoN a sacrifice? Don’t you miss being a man?’

‘Are all Daemons this blunt, Femme Williams?’

‘Only the Yank ones.’

‘I see. Then I must tell you that it is not a sacrifice, rather it is a relief. I am honoured to be a NoN and thus to have been freed of the burden of MALEvolence. By becoming a NoN, ABBA has seen fit to lift the burden of children from my shoulders in order that I might dedicate myself more fully to the service of ABBA’s anointed representative in the Demi-Monde, Her Divine Majesty Empress Wu. Castration is not a loss; rather, it is a cleansing.’

‘But doesn’t being isolated here in this feminist utopia of hers mean that Empress Wu is a little cut off from her people … from reality?’

‘It is necessary because Her Celestial Majesty Empress Wu must be shielded from ordinary mortals who might be blinded by her divinity. That is the reason why she inhabits the Forbidding City, only leaving it to attend to matters of the utmost importance.’

Norma was about to ask more questions but it seemed they had reached their destination. The NoN led her into a room that reminded her of an indoor swimming pool populated by
half a dozen chubby men each clad in nothing more than a loincloth.

‘These BodyNoNs will prepare you for your audience with Her Divine Majesty.’

‘Prepare me?’

‘In the Forbidding City only those Femmes attired as a MoreBien – as a Femme who has embraced the tenets of HerEticalism – may gaze upon the Empress. And to disport yourself in the manner of a MoreBien, Femme Williams, you must embrace DeMureness.’

They shaved her head. And after being washed, scrubbed, oiled, perfumed and then dressed in yet another hugely unflattering boiler suit – this time made from green silk – she was led by Mao along the corridor to a second set of doors. These were very grand affairs, embossed with silver dragons, guarding what Norma could only assume was ‘a Very Important Place’.

She was right.

‘This is the Hall of Supreme Harmony,’ explained Mao in a hushed and reverential voice, ‘the very centre of the Demi-Monde. Here resides the Dragon Throne and it is here you will be given audience with Empress Wu. Your soul should sing, Femme Williams, at the honour the Empress bestows upon you. Few are granted the privilege of entering the Hall of Supreme Harmony and of gazing upon the divine form of the Empress Wu.’

He waited for a few seconds, obviously expecting a reaction from Norma, and seemed decidedly miffed when he didn’t get one. ‘You must steel yourself, Femme Williams, such that you are not overwhelmed by the magnificence you will experience. Many faint when they see the Hall for the first time, overcome by their feeling of awe.’

‘Don’t fret yourself: I’ve been to Vegas and nothing can top that.’

Mao scowled and then decided to ignore the comment. ‘Such was the ABBA-inspired genius of the architect of the Forbidding City, the NoN Nguyen An, that at noon – as it now is – the sunlight streams into the Hall of Supreme Harmony making the room appear to float in the air, to become one with the Nothingness. But do not be afraid. If you find yourself beset by fear, focus your attention on the bronze statuettes guarding the marble platform at the centre of the Hall where sits the Dragon Throne, or breathe in the fragrance of the
Phoebe nanmu
hardwoods brought by the preChinks from Terror Incognita to build the Hall. If all else fails, meditate on the shining sphere of silver that hangs from the ceiling: the Sacred Pearl of Wisdom.’

‘Don’t worry, I’m cool.’

‘An unnecessarily vulgar NoirVillian expression, but no matter. When you enter the Hall of Supreme Harmony, you will see a black line marked on the floor: you will walk up to it, kneel and then kowtow, knocking your forehead to the ground nine times. Failure to do this will be a mark of deep disrespect for which the reward will be summary execution at the hands of the Amazons guarding Her Divine Majesty. You will not speak until spoken to, you will not gaze directly towards Her Divine Majesty and you will address her as “Your Majesty” at all times. When you first address her, you will also say, “I salute the True Empress, and pray that ABBA grants her Nine Thousand Years of Peace and Contentment.”’

Even as she repeated the salutation to herself, the doors of the Hall of Supreme Harmony swung open and Norma found herself being ushered into a room of such scale and such daunting luxury that it took her breath away. Vegas, she decided, had nothing on this. Indeed, she was so awestruck that before she quite realised what she was doing she had crossed
the room, knelt at the black line and performed the requisite genuflections.

‘You are a very
small
Daemon, Norma Williams,’ came a lilting, musical voice from the stage in front of her. ‘We are
most
disappointed.’