Methuselah shrugged. "There's just no pleasing some people."
"Nasty little man," said Tiger Tim.
I moved as close to the Apocalypse Door as the Doctor would allow, and studied it thoughtfully. Tiger Tim tried to join me, but Molly moved quickly to block his way. Methuselah stayed where he was, watching us all calmly. Up close, the Door's presence was disturbing. It seemed more real, more there, than the rest of us… I could feel the Door watching me, studying me as I studied it. I started to raise my Sight, and then stopped. I didn't want to See what lay beyond the Apocalypse Door.
The teleport chain lying in a circle around the Door looked familiar. I'd seen that crystal tech before, and there was nothing human about it. Doctor Delirium might claim he invented it, but his genius was with germs. More likely he'd adapted the ring from some alien leftover.
The Apocalypse Door dominated the room, just by being there. Like a ticking bomb, or a murderer with a fresh blade in his hand.
"Where is everybody?" I said, looking in particular at Tiger Tim. "Where are your scientists and soldiers, the mercenaries and the security guards? Why haven't I seen a single living soul in this entire base, apart from you three?"
Methuselah smiled. "You didn't really? think we'd share this sublime moment with anyone else, do you?"
"We cleaned house," said Tiger Tim. "Just like in the Amazon, only not as messy. We didn't need anybody else, anymore. They'd only have got in the way."
"Really quite a subtle organism," said Doctor Delirium. "I released it into the base's air supply, and it ate them all up. Flesh and bone and even their clothing. Hungry little bug, and very industrious. The Door gave me the idea. Of course, I took pains to inoculate myself and Tiger Tim in advance, just in case any of the bug happened to hang around after it was supposed to have dispersed."
"And I don't need any inoculation," said Methuselah. "I am an Immortal and a flesh dancer; after all these years my immune system produces white blood cells like wrecking balls. Though I have to say, given that there could still be a few traces of the nasty thing floating about, for all your protestations, Doctor, I'm surprised you and the witch are still here, Drood."
"I have my torc," I said.
"And I'm Molly Metcalf. The most powerful witch you'll ever meet."
"Witch," murmured Tiger Tim. "Not quite the word I had in mind…"
"Don't push your luck, Timothy," I said.
Molly went back to glaring at Doctor Delirium. "You killed everyone here? Your own people?"
"Why not?" said Tiger Tim. "We didn't need them anymore, and who knows, they might have tried to stop us opening the Door."
"They never cared about me," said Doctor Delirium. "All they ever cared about was my money! They weren't loyal. Mercenaries are never loyal; I've always known that. And they would have died anyway, after I opened the Door." He giggled suddenly, a shockingly childlike sound. "Maybe I'll see them again, running and leaping among the hordes of the damned… I don't care. They were just people. And what have people ever done, but laugh at me? Do you hear anyone laughing now?"
Molly looked at me. "Total bugfuck weirdo, and nasty with it."
"Was there ever any doubt?" I looked at Methuselah. "What about the other Elders, the ones who believed in you? Aren't you going to wait, just in case any of them turn up? It's always possible we missed a few."
"No more waiting," said Methuselah. "I never was big on sharing. I was the first Immortal, so I suppose it's only fitting that I should be the last. And the first again, to transcend this appallingly limited world. I shall become glorious, and know pleasures beyond belief."
"Another loony tune," said Molly. "I'm starting to feel like the only sensible one here, and I'm not used to that."
Methuselah ignored her, staring out at the virtual view. "I suppose I'll be sorry to say good-bye. For all its many problems and imperfections, it has been a pleasant enough world, I suppose. You mayflies don't appreciate it.
"The things I've seen, since the Heart made me Immortal, all those centuries ago. The wild boars and hairy mammoths running wild in the primordial forests of Olde Englande. The pyramids up beyond Hadrian's Wall, (although the Sceneshifters made them never happened, the bastards.) I danced at Louis' Court at Versailles, sat with the first Queen Elizabeth, laughing at a production of Marlowe's Doctor Faustus, complete with fireworks. I've talked with Genghis Khan, Hitler and Pol Pot. All of them surprisingly good company. Though they all had a taste for peasant's food. I've met great poets and painters, actors and authors, and lent most of them money. I've seen wonders and marvels, abominations and atrocities, and applauded them all. I never fought in a war, but I've profited from most of them. They all had their moments, as spectacle, if nothing else."
"But you never got your hands dirty," I said. "Never the hero or even the villain, just a voyeur."
"Do you interfere in a dog fight?" said Methuselah. "Or intervene in a war between two anthills? I've seen it all, done it all, and I'm bored. Time to move on, to trade up, to leave this grubby world behind in search of fresh new pleasures and indulgences."
"Were you ever at Camelot?" Molly said suddenly. "Did you ever visit the Court of King Arthur? I've always been fascinated by that period."
"No," said Methuselah. "By the time I realised just how important Arthur was going to be, Merlin had already got his claws into him. And relatively young as I was then, I still had enough sense not to get up against Merlin Satanspawn. I did get to meet Mordred, though. Very ambitious, in a single-minded sort of way. Completely dominated by his mother, of course."
"You wasted your life," I said, and the harshness in my voice brought his head jerking round. "All the things you could have done, all the things you might have achieved… and you wasted your years, your lifetimes, because you didn't know what to do with them. No great causes, no great achievements, because you didn't have it in you. You could have made a better world, you could have been greater than Arthur and Merlin, built a Camelot that would have endured for centuries, but all you cared about was yourself. You could have led Humanity out of the darkness, but you couldn't be bothered. And when you're finally gone, you'll leave nothing behind but a bad taste in the mouth of history."
I turned back to Doctor Delirium. "Give it up, Doctor. You've been lied to and used, all along. Timothy Drood is here to betray you, just as he betrayed his own family. He has his own plans for the Apocalypse Door. So does Methuselah."
The Doctor sneered at me. "Yes, well, you would say that, wouldn't you?"
"Oh Eddie," Tiger Tim said sadly. "Always putting your faith in the truth, when a lie can be so much more liberating."
"And you can wipe that smug smile off your face, Timothy," I said. "I'm taking you back to the family to stand trial at Drood Hall for all the evils you've done."
Tiger Tim laughed softly. "Dear Daddy got to you, didn't he? Asked you to go easy on me… Sentimental old fool. You're not taking me anywhere."
"I have the armour," I said. "And you don't."
"Funny you should say that," said Tiger Tim. "You'll never guess what I found, locked away in the vaults of Castle Frankenstein." And he opened the top of his shirt to show me the golden torc around his neck. "I don't know how the Immortals got their hands on this originally. Perhaps an Immortal murdered and replaced a Drood, and took the torc… Or maybe the old Baron himself cut it off one of his victims… Don't suppose we'll ever know. The point is, this torc had been locked away inside a box inside a vault, under the wrong description. No one even knew it was there, until I came across it quite by accident, while looking for something else. Isn't that always the way? I took the torc for my own, because I just knew the Immortals wouldn't appreciate it. And it settled around my throat quite happily, like it was coming home, like it belonged there."