“Jacob is still missing,” said the Armourer, not bothering with the usual hellos and how-are-yous. “It’s been two weeks since anyone’s seen him. He hasn’t been back to the old chapel, and even the headless nun has been asking rather plaintively what’s happened to him. Though what she sees in him…I’m beginning to think something’s happened to him.”
“How could anything have happened to him?” said Penny. “I mean, he’s dead. Has been for centuries.”
“More likely he’s up to something,” growled the Sarjeant-at-Arms. Ever since he’d been outed as a Cyril, his voice had taken on a distinctly lower tone. “No doubt something foul and appalling, which he will find terribly amusing.”
“Jacob can look after himself,” I said firmly. “I’m sure he’ll turn up when he’s needed. Whether we want him to or not. In the meantime, Penny tells me that you’ve finally agreed on a list of prospective candidates for the new torcs.”
“Yes, finally,” said the Armourer, glaring round impartially. “Fifty names have been arrived at, decided by due process, and after much deliberation, shouting, and hair-pulling.”
“Which means,” the Sarjeant said heavily, “that it’s time to talk about launching our first attack. We need to put on a massive show of force, as soon as possible. Prove to the world that we’re strong and united, and still a force to be reckoned with.”
“No,” Penny said immediately. “We’re not ready yet. We need more time, more training, and a hell of a lot more than fifty torcs before we can successfully put a force in the field.”
“They looked pretty good to me just now,” I said mildly. “And for once, I am forced to agree with the Sarjeant. Quick, someone take a photo. We need to do something big and aggressive, and we need to do it now. Some politicians, and other enemies, are growing increasingly restless. Reports are coming in from all over the world, of sabre rattling between countries, of invasions and excursions into disputed territories, that would never have happened in the old days, when we still ruled with a golden fist and made everyone play nice. And then there are all the usual suspects, stirring up trouble here and there just to test the waters and see what they can get away with. Dr. Delirium, the Cold Eidolon, and Truman in his new base, wherever that is, and I can’t believe we still haven’t got a decent line on that yet. Remind me to kick someone’s arse about that. No, people, we have to do something right now. Strike some shock and awe into our enemies; prove we’re still in the game and that bad boys will be severely spanked.”
“Then pick a target,” said the Sarjeant. “Anyone, as long as they’re a danger. You’re the one who kept going on about the Loathly Ones…”
“This is all moving too quickly,” Penny said stubbornly. “Move before we’re ready, and it could all backfire. We can’t afford for the world to learn just how weak we really are.”
“How will you know when you’re ready?” Molly said reasonably. “Training can only do so much. Eventually you’ve got to kick the little birdies out of the nest and see whether they fly.”
“I don’t know if this qualifies,” Strange said suddenly. “But I’m picking up a new report just coming in to the War Room. It seems to be saying we have a definite location for a large gathering of Loathly Ones.”
We all stood up straighter and looked at each other. Reports had been coming in for some time now that the Loathly Ones had been gathering together in unusual numbers, somewhere down in South America.
“Where?” I said.
“The Nazca Plain,” said Strange. “You know, that place where they have all the big lines dug into the ground, that make up shapes you can only see clearly from orbit, or something. Von Daniken said they were really landing pads for spaceships, in his
Chariots of the Gods
.”
“Hold everything,” said Molly. “You’ve read von Daniken?”
“Oh, sure!” said Strange. “I love a good laugh.”
So we all trooped straight down to the War Room, carefully not hurrying too much so as not to draw attention to ourselves. The family watched everything the Inner Circle did with great interest, and they did so love to gossip. If we were about to launch our first big attack, I didn’t want the information getting out in advance. The staff in the War Room was more than a bit surprised to see us, as the report on the Loathly Ones was still coming in from our agent in the field, one Callan Drood. We had hardly any agents out in the world at the moment, as it was hard to get anyone to volunteer without the protection of a torc. The Droods have a lot of enemies. Luckily, some of the younger members of the family were keen to prove themselves, and hopefully fast-track themselves for one of the new torcs.
I knew Callan. I’d been impressed by his attitude, and his thoroughness, when I found out he led the team searching through Truman’s old stamping ground under London. I suggested he might like to volunteer for field work, and he jumped at the chance. Though of course he had to be sarcastic and opinionated about it, so he could pretend he’d been talked into it against his better judgement. He didn’t want anyone to think he was a pushover. So I smiled, and sent him to South America. And now he’d been the one to find the Loathly Ones for us.
All the way down in South America. What the hell were they doing in South America?
Callan’s face filled one of the main display screens. He didn’t look too happy about things, but then he never did. His young, broad face was sunburned, his thin blond hair was plastered to his skull, and the sweat was dripping off him. All I could see in the background was a tall bluff face of some dark sandstone, and a sky so blue it was almost painful to the eye.
“About time you got here,” he snapped. “It’s a hundred and thirty in the shade out here, and there isn’t any shade. Bloody unnatural heat. Soon as this briefing has finished, I’m going to go find a swimming pool and drink it. I’m looking out over the Nazca Plain, and the Loathly Ones have been gathering down there for the last six months. They’re building something, out on the plain. I don’t know what it is, but I really don’t like the look of it. Local governments have been well bribed to stay away, and the whole area is out of bounds for tourists. There are guards on all the main approaches to turn people back and discourage anyone from asking too many questions.”
“Can you describe this thing they’re building?” said the Armourer.
“Not really. It’s big, maybe a hundred feet tall, and half as wide, some of it’s machinery and some of it isn’t, and it makes my head hurt just to look at it. There are hundreds of Loathly Ones here, swarming all over the bloody thing and adding bits to it.”
“Could be a weapon of some kind,” said the Armourer.
“No, really; you think so?” said Callan. “And here I was, thinking it was probably the centrepiece of a Loathly Ones theme park. Look, just get the hell down here, okay? This whole thing is creeping me out big-time. Bring reinforcements. And cold drinks.”
“Could this new structure be in any way connected with the ancient lines on the plain?” said Penny. “And the unexpected heat?”
“Damned if I know,” said Callan. “Nothing obvious, anyway.”
“The lines are thousands of years old,” said Penny, frowning seriously. “Laid out in their gigantic patterns so long ago that no one now remembers who did it, or why. They’re even older than our family.”
“There may be something in the old library,” said the Armourer.
“The location can’t be just a coincidence,” said the Sarjeant-at-Arms. “Callan, are you sure there isn’t any connection?”
“Look, I’m just telling you what I see. And I am not getting any closer for a better look. The Loathly Ones have been attacking anyone or anything that shows up on the plain, and I like my soul where it is, thank you very much. If you want to know more about the lines, read your von Daniken.”
“Don’t say you read him too,” said Molly.
“Of course. He has a lot of good insights. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he was one of us.”
“Thank you, Callan,” I said quickly. “Keep an eye on things till we get there, and report any new activity.”
“Remember the cold drinks.”
I gestured for the communications people to shut down the display screen, and then I looked round at the rest of my Inner Circle. “This is it. The opportunity we’ve been waiting for. The Loathly Ones getting together in unprecedented numbers, and maybe building a new super-weapon? We can’t allow this to continue.”
“I don’t know about unprecedented,” the Armourer said thoughtfully. “I seem to recall something similar, back in my grandfather’s day…I’ll have to look it up in the family records.”
“They don’t normally take over anything bigger than a small town,” said Penny. “And even then, they go to great pains to hide it from the rest of the world. This kind of public display is out of character.”
“You mean it could be a trap?” said Molly.
“I don’t see how,” I said. “They’re right out in the open. And that thing they’re building worries me. No, we’ve found our first target. Taking out a major gathering of the Loathly Ones is the best way to announce to the world that we’re still in business.”
“But we don’t know enough about the situation,” Penny said stubbornly. “We have no idea what it is they’re building, or the dangers involved in destroying it. We don’t even know for sure what defences the Loathly Ones have put in place around it. We need more information, before we commit ourselves to a main assault.”
“The only way we’ll get more information is to go down there and kick the Loathly Ones around till they tell us what they’re doing,” said the Sarjeant.
“Exactly,” I said. “We need to move now, before they finish whatever it is they’re doing, and before they realise we know about it. So we take in a strike force, led by our new torcs, destroy as many of the Loathly Ones as possible, and tear down whatever we find there. I said we were going to war against the Loathly Ones, and this will be a great beginning. Penny, tell the family that we’re ready to hand out the first fifty torcs. We’ll make a whole ceremony out of it. The new knights in armour of the Drood family.”
“Don’t you want to check the names?” said Penny.
“No,” I said. “I trust your judgement. Why, is there someone on the list you think I might object to?”
“Just the one,” said Molly. “Harry.”
“I’d have been surprised if he wasn’t on the list,” I said. “He’s an experienced field agent. And James’s son.”
“But you don’t trust him,” said Penny.
“Of course not,” I said. “He’s James’s son.”
We held the great torc-giving ceremony in the Sanctity, celebrating the bestowing of fifty new torcs on deserving members of the family. The Sanctity was packed from wall to wall with excited family, standing shoulder to shoulder. More filled the corridor outside. We had to set up vid screens, all through the Hall, so everyone in the family could see. This was the start of a new era for the Droods, and I wanted everyone to feel a part of it. Even the Matriarch and her supporters were looking in, from her suite. I checked. Strange shed his beneficent light over all of us, and even broadcast some suitable music, complete with trumpets and fanfares in all the right places.
One by one they came forward and knelt before the crimson glow, the fifty, the chosen few, the new knights of the family, and out of nowhere silver torcs appeared around their necks. A great cheer went up for each of the fifty names, and the family applauded them all till everyone’s hands ached. There were smiles and tears everywhere, and much stamping of feet. There was a common feeling that these torcs were special, and these fifty men and women were special, because they had earned their torcs.
At the end, the Inner Circle pushed me forward to say a few words. I didn’t particularly want to, but everyone there seemed to expect it of me. I got a pretty good cheer as I stepped forward, though perhaps not as good a cheer as the fifty chosen ones got, and it quickly died away as I raised my hands for quiet.
“This is the start of a new day,” I said. “For the family, and for the world. No more sitting around waiting for threats, and then reacting to them. We’re going to take the fight to the enemy. And we’re going to start by bringing down the Loathly Ones! I shall lead a strike force against their new base of operations: fifty torced men and women, and two hundred volunteers, armed with all the very best toys the Armoury can supply. Salute these warriors! The Droods are going to war, and the Loathly Ones are going down! Mark this day, my family, my friends. It’s time to show the world that the Droods are back in town!”
Afterwards, Molly said to me, “Whoever told you that you know how to make a speech?”
“It’s a dirty job,” I said. “But someone’s got to do it.”
We flew down to South America in the family’s private fleet of Blackhawke aircraft. Great big black beasts of the sky, smooth and sleek and driven by powerful engines we reverse engineered from an alien starship that crash-landed in a Wiltshire field in 1947. Five planes, carrying fifty men and women with their new torcs, two hundred heavily armed volunteers, myself and Molly, Janissary Jane and Mr. Stab, and Harry and Roger Morningstar. I could have done without that last addition, but Harry wouldn’t go without him. Molly and I were there because it was my plan, Janissary Jane because she’d trained these people and knew more about fighting demons than all the rest of us put together, and Mr. Stab because…well, basically because I wanted a vicious supernatural serial killer on my side, just in case anything went wrong.
And I wanted to keep him close, where I could keep a watchful eye on him.
Mr. Stab hadn’t joined the rest of us in the Sanctity for the bestowing of the torcs, but then I hadn’t expected him to. He wasn’t what you’d call a social animal. So afterwards I sent Penny to look for him, to tell him about the forthcoming attack on the Loathly Ones. When she didn’t report back after a reasonable time, I got just a little worried. I found a private place, locked the door, tuned the Merlin Glass to the present, and ordered it to look in on Penny and Mr. Stab, wherever they might be. My reflection vanished from the mirror, replaced by a view of the two of them, walking together on the grounds. Just walking, and chatting. Penny seemed completely at ease in Mr. Stab’s company, even after I’d gone out of my way to warn her about what he was, and what he’d done. Their voices came to me quite clearly.