“Never thought I’d see the actual Shadow Bank’s inner workings with my own eyes,” said Molly. “Who owes what, who owns what . . . Look, Shaman, Eddie, whoever you are right now—we have to consider the possibilities. If we were to take control of this, just you and me, we’d have the power to put everything in the world right, at last. Make everyone place nicely with each other. We could put an end to all the bad guys, forever.”
“Power corrupts,” I said. “We couldn’t do this on our own. We’d have to bring in my family. And the Droods are already far too powerful for their own good. I’ve had to pull them back from the brink once; this could push them right over the edge. If my family were to take control of the Shadow Bank, even for the noblest of reasons, we’d end up becoming the Shadow Bank. No. My family can’t be trusted with this. No one can. That’s the point. Better to destroy everything, and destroy the temptation that goes with it. Wipe all these records, and we financially cripple all the right people. And scare everyone else enough to give my family an advantage. I think that’s the best we can realistically hope for. A fighting chance. Which is, of course, all my family has ever needed.”
Molly sniffed loudly. “Sir Parsifal probably wouldn’t agree with you.”
“Just as well he’s not here, then,” I said. “Or any of the others.”
“You’re not tempted, even a little bit?” said Molly. “Isn’t there anything you want?”
“Just you,” I said.
“You always know the right thing to say,” said Molly. “Do you have any idea how annoying that is?”
“Yes,” I said.
We shared a smile, and then looked round again.
“Destroy it all,” I said. “Wipe it clean, and put an end to the Shadow Bank, at last. What do you think, Molly—a series of fires or one really big explosion?”
“You know how to spoil a girl,” said Molly. “Blow it all up!”
“And us, along with it?” said a quiet voice.
I looked round sharply, as a single generic man came out from between the huge machines. He was wearing a white lab coat that made me think immediately of my uncle Jack. He shuffled forward, almost tentatively, his hands held out before him to show they were empty. Molly brought up one hand, stray magics already spitting and crackling on the air around it, but I grabbed her arm, and made her stop. There was something about this one; he didn’t look dangerous, or menacing.
“What are you doing here?” I said. “Why aren’t you out fighting with the others?”
“One of us always has to be here,” he said. “To keep an eye on things.”
“You’re really the only one here?” said Molly, glaring suspiciously about her. “Because I swear if I see anyone moving around in the shadows, I will turn them inside out and leave them that way.”
“Just me,” said the generic man. “But what one of us sees, we all see. You know the rest. There’s always one of us here to see the machines run smoothly.”
“So, you’re the generic caretaker,” I said. “Are you going to give us any trouble?”
“I can’t stop you, whatever you decide to do here. I know that. But please, you must understand. Destroy the computers, and you destroy my people. We serve the Shadow Bank through these machines. We were made to serve. We will die without a purpose. We almost died out before the Shadow Bank’s original owners found us. I don’t believe we could survive another loss of purpose. Are you ready to commit genocide?”
“Hell yes,” said Molly. “After all the evil the Shadow Bank’s made possible? All the suffering and horror you people have been responsible for? And, you just tried to kill us!”
“After everything you’re responsible for,” I said to the generic caretaker. “Now there’s a thought. . . . No, I won’t be responsible for wiping you out. That’s the difference, right there, between you and me. I’ve got a much better idea. What if I was to give your people another purpose?”
Molly leaned in close to me. “Are you sure about this?” she said quietly. “I mean, you know I love your ideas, but . . . can you rely on this lot to do whatever it is you’re about to ask them to do?”
“Oh, I think so,” I said quietly. “As long as my family is there, looking over their shoulders.”
“Oh, hell,” said Molly. “Go for it. Genocide always makes me feel queasy.”
“Take what these machines know,” I said to the generic caretaker, “and use it to set people free. Destroy the financial records of all the evil organisations and individuals, make them bankrupt . . . and then use that money to put right all the wrongs you people have made possible. And set free all the souls you own, so they can move on to wherever they belong. Then, use the knowledge the Shadow Bank has acquired down the years to expose the hidden deals and corrupt conspiracies, and help make the world a better place. I know, Molly, I’m being idealistic again. But we have to try. Because it’s either that, or killing an entire people. And I’m just not in the mood. I’m an agent, not an assassin, remember? You, generic caretaker . . . do you accept the new purpose I give you?”
“Yes,” he said. “We live to serve.”
“Good,” I said. “And by the time you’ve finished with everything I’ve just said, my family will have thought of something else that needs doing, to keep you occupied.”
“Good,” said the generic man. “It will help us to have masters again.”
“Then tell your people,” I said.
“They already know. The fighting has stopped. The killing is over. It is no longer necessary. We have a new purpose.”
“Damn,” said Molly. “You people are seriously creepy.”
“And you people,” said the generic man, “are seriously scary. Because you’re always so certain.”
We took the elevator back down to the lobby. Molly was almost completely out of magic. We walked out of the lobby, and found our friends and allies standing together outside the hotel. Looking around them in a confused sort of way. The generic army had moved back, and were standing still, awaiting new instructions from their new masters. The moment Molly and I appeared, the whole generic army bowed their heads to us. The Armourer armoured down.
“Eddie? Molly? What have you done?”
“We won,” I said cheerfully. “The war is over, the Shadow Bank is no more, and the generic people work for the Droods now.”
“Bloody typical,” said J.C. He was breathing hard, and there was blood on his white suit. “We do all the hard work, and the Droods reap all the rewards. Don’t the rest of us get anything out of this?”
“The satisfaction of a job well done,” said Sir Parsifal.
Dead Boy looked at the London Knight. “You’re weird. And I have to ask, why are some of those empty-faced people gathered around Bruin Bear, and worshipping him?”
“Because he’s that sort of Bear,” I said. I moved over to the nearest generic person. “Are you sure there won’t be any bad feelings over all of your kind who died here?”
“We are one,” said the generic man calmly. “What’s a few bodies?”
“That,” said Molly. “That, right there, is what’s wrong.”
“No wonder you ran the Shadow Bank the way you did,” I said.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Going Home
I stood at the end of a terribly long corridor deep within the hotel, with Molly at my side. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of faces lined both walls, staring out of simple wooden frames. Souls, lost souls; lost in games of chance at Casino Infernale. So many suffering faces, held in place behind polished glass, staring endlessly out with haunted eyes. Mouths moving silently, in pleas for help that the world never heard. Like insects trapped under glass, pinned in place, caught between Life and Death, for as long as Casino Infernale, or the Shadow Bank, had a use for them. I looked down the endless length of the corridor, at all the lost souls; and I don’t think I’d ever felt so angry. Molly moved in close beside me, to comfort me with her presence.