Something from the Nightside - By Simon R. Green Page 0,13

layer by careful layer, re-establishing my shields. It had been so long since I'd had a chance to glory in the Sights of my gift that I'd forgotten all about being cautious. For a time there, I must have shone like the sun. Time to get this show on the road. I reached out and took Joanna firmly by the hand, linking her mind to mine, and she gasped as she saw the street through my private eye. She saw Cathy's translucent image, and called out to her, starting forward. Immediately I let go of her hand, and shut everything down, tamping down the edges of my gift with great thoroughness, so that not even a spark of light could get out to betray me. Joanna rounded on me angrily.

"What happened? Where is she? I saw her!" "You saw an image from the past," I said carefully. "A footprint, left in Time. Cathy hasn't been

here for at least two weeks, more than enough time for her to get into some serious trouble. But at least now we know for sure that she did get here, and that she was alive and well two weeks ago. Did you see the look on her face? She came here for a reason. She was headed somewhere specific."

Joanna's face had quickly resumed its usual chilly mask, as though she was ashamed I'd caught her showing actual emotions. When she spoke, her voice was entirely calm again. "Specific. Is that good or bad?"

"Depends," I said honestly. "This is the Nightside. She could be anywhere by now. She might have found friends, protection, enlightenment, or damnation. They're all pretty cheap here. I think... I'm going to need a little help on this one. How would you like to visit the oldest established bar and nightclub in the world?"

One side of her dark red mouth twitched in something that might have been a smile. "Sounds good to me. I could use a stiff drink. Hell, I could use several stiff drinks and an adrenaline chaser. What's the name of this place?"

I grinned. "Strangefellows."

Four

Everyone Goes to Strangefellows. If They Know What's Good For Them.

You get to Strangefellows, the oldest drinking hole, conversation pit and scumbag attractor in the history of Mankind, by walking down the kind of streets that raise the hairs on the back of your neck, and then slipping into a side alley that isn't always there. Mostly, I think it's ashamed to be associated with such a dive. The alley is dimly lit and the street had cobbles. The entrance to Strangefellows is a flat slab of steel set flush with the grimy wall. Above the door is a small but dignified neon sign that spells out the name of the bar in ancient Sanskrit. The owner doesn't believe in advertising. He doesn't need to. If

you're meant to find your way to the oldest pub in England, you will. And if you're not, you could search all the days of your life and never find it. There's no waiting list to get in, but the dues can be murder. Sometimes literally. I translated the sign for Joanna, and she looked at it expressionlessly.

"Is this a gay bar?"

I had to smile. "No. Just a place where the stranger people in the world can come to drink in peace and quiet. No-one bothers you, no-one will expect you to talk sports, politics or religion, and no-one will ask for your autograph. Good and Bad can buy each other drinks, and neutrality is strictly enforced. Strangefellows has been around, in various identities, for centuries. No-one's really sure how old it is, but it's always been a bar of some kind. The last time I was here, the current incarnation was decidedly upmarket. Glamorous in a threatening kind of way, with excellent booze and an... interesting clientele. But identities can change fast in the Night-side, so once we get in there stick close to me, hang on to your bag and don't talk to any strange women."

"I have been to nightclubs before," Joanna said frostily.

"Not like this one, you haven't."

I walked up to the door, and it swung slowly open before me. Though I hated to admit it, I was more than a little relieved. The door only opens to people in good standing with the owner, and I hadn't been

sure just what my standing was, after so long away. We hadn't exactly parted on good terms. Hell, I still had money owing on my bar bill. But the