Free Nightside 11 - A Hard Days Knight by Simon R. Green

the other dimensional doors, so that all the energies blast right through the rift as it opens. A soulbomb explosion is enough to hurt even Things from Outside. You can use your death to strike a blow against them. Won’t be enough to kill them, but it’ll hurt them, and make them back off and think again. How does that sound? You could be remembered as the man who saved the Nightside. How’s that for making a difference?”
    “How does that help my children?” he said bluntly. “If I don’t do as I’m told, my children won’t get the money.”
    I thought quickly. “How about this? I sell your story to the Unnatural Inquirer . All right, it’s a rag, but they love stories like this. They’ll pay top money; and I’ll see it all goes to your children. I’ll guarantee the paper does right by them.”
    “How can you guarantee that if I blow up, and you’re still here? You can’t teleport out; the Outsiders would stop you, wouldn’t they?”
    He was right. I’d been thinking I could escape the blast through the Portable Timeslip, but the Outsiders would have access to the dimensional short cut I travelled through. After the explosion, they’d be too busy with their own problems to worry about me, but until then ... I thought some more, then I remembered, and smiled.
    “I’ll be fine,” I said. “Don’t worry, Oliver; I’m protected. I carry the sword Excalibur.”
    He looked at me. “Where? Do you have one of those sub-space pocket things?”
    I reached over my shoulder, took hold of the hilt, and drew the sword. The long, golden blade flashed brightly. Oliver’s eyes widened.
    “It’s ... beautiful. Everything I ever thought it would be. Can I touch it, hold it?”
    He reached out a hand towards the sword, then immediately stopped and drew the hand back again.
    “No. It wouldn’t be right. Not with what I’ve made of myself. Nonetheless, it is good to know that there is still wonder in the world. There is still glory.”
    “Are you ready?” I said. “I don’t mean to rush you, but there’s no telling how much time we have left, before ...”
    “I’m ready if you are,” he said steadily. “Let’s do it.”
    “One last thing,” I said. “Who set this up? Who planned all this and made you into a soulbomb?”
    “Bijou de Montefort,” he said. “One of the business owners in the mall. Do you know him?”
    “Oh yes,” I said. “I know him.”
    One of the Emporium’s biggest success stories, de Montefort came from nowhere to make himself one of the richest men in the Nightside. He specialised in awakening demand for things people didn’t even know they wanted, then selling it to them for ten times the price they would have paid if it hadn’t suddenly been fashionable. But he’d come adrift with his last great idea: the Cloned Celebrity Long Pig franchise. Eat the celebrity of your choice! But he really should have asked permission first; a whole bunch of celebrities got together and sued him over unauthorised use of their image and identity, and they won big. Cleaned him out. Overnight, de Montefort’s business empire collapsed, his credit rating was run out of town on a rail, and he was on the brink of losing everything. At which point, one assumes, he was contacted by a messenger from Outside, who offered a bargain. And he accepted, the fool.
    I realised Oliver was looking at me. Bad time to be wool-gathering. “How did he expect to profit from this?”
    “He didn’t tell me. All he said was that my death would make him King of the Nightside.”
    “Idiot. Outsiders never keep their bargains. They don’t have to.”
    “I think we should do it now,” said Oliver. “While I’m still ... firm in my resolve. Good-bye, Mr. Taylor. When you see my children, tell them ... some comforting lie.”
    “Yes,” I said. “I can do that.”
    He closed his eyes and seemed to relax completely, as though finally putting down some terrible burden. He gave up the last thing that held him