The Walker

Daisy was bored. She had gone through drunkenness and was now worryingly sober again. The bar was quiet now, everyone had been sent home, or at least thrown out, and only Charlie and herself remained, aside from a few bar staff cleaning the bar and sweeping.

He sat opposite her in the dark, quietly smoking on a cigar. They had been playing cards, and talking. He still made her uneasy, but he had been pleasant enough.

Daisy picked dully at the chicken and chipped potatoes she hadn’t finished earlier, as Charlie poured himself another drink from the bottle on their table. “So, Daisy, why’re you following him? Walker, I mean. What are you after?”

He offered her the bottle, which she took, pouring herself another shot.

“I...” she paused, looking at Charlie. He had taken his shades off. She watched him and sipped her drink. “He promised me something, when I was younger,” she hesitated, “I thought he could help change things.”

He nodded and took a puff on his cigar. “Let me guess, he found you as a kid? Showed you a book?”

She eyed him quizzically.

He shrugged. “Before you ask, educated guess.”

She took another scrap of chicken, “I don’t know why we’re here though. He doesn’t tell me anything.””

“The man is certainly a closed book.” Charlie laughed softly and finished his drink, “He’d like that, don’t you think. Being likened to a book.”

Daisy swallowed and took another sip, “Why do you think we’re here, Charlie?”

“Well, I deal in things, little lady. Most of those things a man like Walker ain’t interested in, know what I mean? But I do dabble,” here he leaned in conspiratorially, “In tools of higher education, and particular learning.”

“Books, then?”

“Bingo, right in one. But keep it hush-hush, yeah?” He laughed again, obviously finding himself to be too funny. Daisy rolled her eyes and poked at the chicken carcass in front of her.

“Walker collects any books he finds, Charlie. What would make him come here, to you, today?”

He tilted his head like a dog, “I dunno my love. Could be anything. Like I said, man’s a closed book.” He poured from the bottle again, and asked her, “Why is it you think you’re here, Daisy? Not in my club, specifically; what is it you think you’re doing out here, away from home, all alone?”

She shook her head. “I suppose I’m learning.” She plucked at the chicken again, “You know, how to become a proper walker, with the Order. All that.”

Charlie laughed again, throwing his head back, “A Walker with the Order!” He hooted, “That’s great!”

Daisy scowled at him as he dabbed at his eyes, “What’s so funny?”

The laughter trailed off, and Charlie looked at her. “Wait, you’re bein’ serious? Blimey.”

When she continued to glower, he shook his head.

“He’s draggin’ you ’round all over and you don’t even know why? Thought he’d have learned the first time.” He got up and walked over to the bar, reached over and grabbed another two bottles, which he uncorked and brought back to the table.

“You might need one of these, got a fair bit to cover.”

She reluctantly accepted one of the bottles as Charlie resumed his seat, shifting until he was comfortable. “I won’t start from the very beginnin’ or we’ll be ‘ere all bleedin’ night. So we’ll start post crisis. You know what the crisis was, right?”

Daisy shrugged. “I never got taught properly. I know something happened a long time ago, and most of the people, people who could afford to anyway, left. Never heard it called the crisis though. My Mum says they went to the skies, but that sounds stupid.”

Charlie poured from the fresh bottle, smoky whiskey splashed into his glass. He swirled it, sniffed, and sipped, before pouring into Daisy’s glass. “Not so stupid, actually. Yeah, people moved off, to colonise the moons of Jupiter, or something daft like that. I know they went to Mars, at any rate.”

Daisy opened her mouth to question this, but Charlie waved her quiet.

“Anyways, all we need to know is that something big, real big, happened, and changed how things worked. Governments came and went, lotsa fightin’ happened; long story short, we were left with the world as you see it now.” He looked away for a second, then added, “Or rather, the country as you see it now. Doubt you’ve ever left England.”

She shook her head, and he shrugged listlessly.

“So there was this group, yeah, called the People’s Reclamation Republic. They were all for people rising back up, taking what had been left by the leaders what had abandoned them; fixing technology, collecting knowledge and all that jazz.

“They started the Philosophers, the ones you know about. But they were pretty pants at first. They tried to gather things up; books, papers, computers – you won’t know what a computer is, of course; like a super book, one that could do anything – and they tried to do it by force. Which people didn’t like.

“They fought back, and killed the Philosophers, the first ones, who were just scholars really. Not soldiers, no good at fighting.”

Daisy sat back, stunned. “How do you know all this?”

Charlie waved her quiet, “Hush, got a lot to cover.” He drummed his thick fingers on his chin thoughtfully.

“Where was I... oh yeah, so; the Republic decided they needed some ’arder blokes to gather up all this valuable stuff, and keep it safe, so they made a new order. The second cohort. They even made an academy for ’em, to train ‘em up, using ex-soldiers and that, proper like. Took kiddies, young as tots, and started fresh. These blokes grew up with the Order, became tough, and smart. They valued their work more than they valued the people they were workin’ on, and things got messy.

“Now, maybe ’bout ten years later, the third lot of Philosophers was trained. These guys were even tougher, and they had technology on their side, amour like what your pal Walker wears and whatnot. The government found this old stash of pre-crisis weapons, see, and thought of no better way of proving their principles about ‘knowledge’ than equipping the guys they employed with some of it.”

He paused to steal a cold chip from Daisy’s plate. He chewed it, making appreciative noises, before continuing.

“Nothin’ tastier than a stolen chip, eh?” He winked, and cleared his throat. “Now, these philosophers, they were still taught that the people who were harbouring their books and so on were bad, and below them. So there was this incident, nasty one, where a whole village got killed over some dispute. Out east ways, I think.”

He looked at his drink, swirling it slightly, “Or was it up north?

“Anyway, people obviously had had enough about this time, and they started to make themselves heard. Lots of fighting between the Order and the regular folk. Bloody, and ’orrible.

“’Bout this time, a geeze took control of the Republic. People called him the Father, ’cos he was one of the oldest guys in the republic; started the training program, effectively bore the Order, straight from his own loins.”

He chuckled at his own joke, “Now, this Father, he starts to go a bit bonkers, with the power and that. Gets all paranoid, tells the order that they had enough books, and knowledge and technology, and decides that the public don’t deserve their services; he wants to keep all the knowledge and the power for the Order.

“Enter Mother. God knows why she got called that. Maybe it was ‘cause her and Father argued all the time, sort of in-joke maybe. This girl, she’s got a hot head, and the skills to match, and says that Father has lost his way. But she bides her time, following orders, tryin’ to do good from the inside.

Daisy spoke, “Mother was a Walker then?”

Charlie shrugged, sipping his drink. “Not exactly. Born of two Philosophers, probably on a moonless night, or summink soppy like that.”

“Anyway,” he continued, “This went on for a few years, things getting’ worse and worse between Father and Mother. Then one day, boom!” He slammed the table dramatically, making Daisy jump, “Someone offed Father, killed ’im. Mother took over, tried to take the Order back to what they was all about in the first place; protecting books, saving knowledge, getting ready to share it out again, amongst the people, for the people.”

Daisy interrupted again, waving her arms. “Wait, wait, wait. The Order is not ‘for the people’. They go around stealing books, ruining lives. That’s what the Walkers are for. They fight the Order, share books around.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow, “Is that so? How many of his books is ole Walker lettin’ you carry then?”

Daisy paused, thinking. Walker had never let her even hold the book satchel, let alone touch one of his books.

“Hang on,” she exclaimed, “He gave me this!”

She got out her copy of Treasure Island, and held it out for Charlie to look. He took it from her, flicking through the first few pages.

“Sorry, love.” He read, and clucked, “This ain’t even a third edition. And it’s a story. Stories aren’t worth that much. The man loves ‘real’ knowledge. Books on machines, guns, thinking. All that malarkey. He’s a genius when it comes to machines, come to think of it.”

He offered her the book back, which she took, feeling disheartened. Walker had given her a book he hadn’t even cared for.

“Where were we?” Charlie tapped his forehead dramatically. “Ah, got it. So yeah, Mother’s in charge now, right? She’s getting’ things back on track, undoin’ the damage old Father did, makin’ the Order about knowledge again, not power. That’s where your man Walker comes in. Seems that he disagreed with Mother, cheeky little sod. He was a teenager at the time though, and you know what they get like.”

He flashed his irritating wink again. “So, Walker decides he knows better than Mother, and challenges her for power over the Order, but she refuses. Good thing too; she taught him, so he woulda stood a snowball’s chance in a bloody hot place, if you ask me. So, bein’ a stroppy teenager and that, Walker leaves, takin’ a few of his mates with him, some of his ‘cohort’, as they like to say, along with some of the older lads and ladies from the Order. Since then, they’ve been fartin’ about, doin’ as they please. Think that about covers it, love.”

Daisy’s thoughts raced. “So wait, Walkers aren’t a part of the Order?”

Charlie shook his head, “Not strictly. They were. Damn fine members, from what they’ve all told me. But no,” he swirled his drink, “Not strictly a part in any ‘official’ capacity.” He waggled his fingers. “Any questions?”

Daisy scratched her head. “Too many, Charlie. What are the Walkers, then?”

Charlie grinned at her, “Well, it’s in the name, innit? Walker, Walkers. That’s why they call themselves that, apparently. You coulda worked it out. Maybe that’s what he’s been waitin’ for.”

Daisy shook her head, confused, “I was never sure.”

Charlie shrugged, “Never mind Daisy, me old china. Now you know. And knowin’ is half the battle, and all that good stuff.”

Daisy sat staring. What did she know? Had Walker lied to her? Well, she thought, he hadn’t technically; he hadn’t actually told her anything. “How do you know all this Charlie?”

“Well, I was there through it all, weren’t I? Seen it all, even the crisis. Good times, good times.” He leant back in the booth, sipping at his drink.

“Saw? Wait, if you saw it all, that makes you... hundreds of years old! How?”

He waved her quiet again. “I don’t like talkin’ about that, love. All you need to remember is Father started things goin’ downhill, Mother rose up and whacked him, and Walker went off in a hissy fit.”

Daisy looked down into her glass, then up at Charlie. He was looking towards the door.

There was a loud crash. A bouncer burst through the main door, landing spread-eagled on the ground. Walker stepped over to him and stormed over to the table.

“Walker, mate, what’cha whack Rob f—“

Daisy watched, shocked, as he grabbed Charlie by the throat, hoisting him easily into the air.

Charlie gasped, trying to speak. “Walker, what...”

Walker growled and squeezed harder. Daisy watched as Charlie struggled feebly as something whirred, high pitched and frantic.

“Walker!” She cried, jumping to her feet. “What’s going on?”

He ignored her and maintained his vice-like grip. She had to do something.

She brought her arm down on Walker’s, loosening his hold on Charlie. She pushed the little man out of the way, as Walker whirled on her.

“What are you doing, girl?”

He towered over her, fists clenched. She had never seen him this angry.

“What are you doing?” She shouted back. She squared up to him, blocking him from Charlie. They glared at each other for what felt like an eternity, before Daisy spoke.

“Enough of this! You owe me an explanation!” She grabbed Treasure Island from the table and brandished it at Walker. “This book? The reason I left, got myself mixed up in this shit? You never gave a damn, did you?”

She threw the book. It struck Walker in the chest. He flinched slightly, but didn’t catch it. “Give me a reason not to leave right now.”

Walker looked from her to Charlie, “What did you tell her?”

Before Charlie could answer, Daisy spoke, “No, Walker, talk to me. He only told me what you should have told me the day I went with you. You’re not actually a part of the Order, are you? You’re part of that other group. I guess it was as obvious as Charlie said.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, and continued, “So you have to promise me something Walker, if you want me to come with you.”

Walker looked at her, lips set in a thin line, “Why would I want you to come with me?”

She thought, quickly, decided to play her ace. “I know about you, now. That could be dangerous.”

Walker stood, quietly. Daisy watched, tensed. Finally, Walker sighed.

“Fine. Let me settle with Charlie, girl. We’ll talk after.”

She shook her head. “No, Walker. Say it.”

He looked at her, before stooping to pick up her book. He eyed it for a moment, then held it out to her. “You can come with me.”

They stood, staring into each other’s visors. Finally, Daisy nodded, taking the book. She stuffed it into her jacket and sat down.

Walker leant on the table, bringing himself closer to Charlie, who had sat and begun rubbing his neck. “My books, Charlie.”

“You prick, you’ve gone and duffed up me hydraulics, gonna cost me a pretty penny.“

Daisy raised her eyebrow at this, but allowed Walker to talk.

“They took my books.” Walker’s words came out heavy, and slow

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That job was genuine—“ Walker slapped him, hard. Charlie’s face turned, and Daisy could hear a curious ringing noise. He piped up indignantly. “You’re lucky I rolled with that, big man, or you’d be nursin’ a couple o’ broken fingers!”

Walker ignored him, jerking him upwards again, so they were eye to visor. “You set me up. They took my books. You better know something, or I will kill you.”

He dropped Charlie, who steadied himself and made a show of brushing off his suit. “Kill me? Hilarious,” he snorted, rearranging his lapels. “And by they I assume you mean the Bookies? You musta been followed, mate. Nuffin’ to do with me. And that’s a computational certainty, you can trust me on that.”

He tried to wink at Daisy, but something from within him whirred. He rubbed at his throat again, glaring at Walker and opening his mouth to speak.

Walker slammed his hand onto the table before he could utter a word, “Enough damn it! Where are my books? How did they know I was here?”

Charlie glared at his hand and shook his head. “Bugger me, Walker, look at you mate! You come in to the city, dressed like that, with a bloody great bag o’ what are clearly bloody great books in your bag. You saunter in ’ere, big as day, meet with me, and you know they watch me, and you expect no one to notice? Arrogant twat.”

He picked up his glass and rubbed his throat again. “Won’t be able to drink again till I get this sorted.” He sighed and put the drink down.

“You don’t need to drink, Charlie. Don’t give me that.”

Charlie glared at him, his eyes still flashing. “I know I don’t need to drink, you arsehole. I like the taste.”

He shook his head and sat down, wearily rubbing a hand over his shiny face. “Look, I said the men in black drink here, din’t I? Stands to reason they ’eard us and followed you. It was what I was checking the girl for in the first place. Good job she stayed and all,” he jerked a thumb towards Daisy, “They’d’ve killed her on sight.”

Walker glared at him, but Daisy spoke first. “Why would they have killed me, and not him?”

Charlie looked glumly down at his drink, massaging where Walker had gripped him. “’Cos he knows the main man. Best fuckin’ mates ain’t they.”