by Brian Lumley
“Except slaughter isn’t our job,” said Trask, “and we won’t be doing it or having it done to us. Nor will we be going belowdecks. Not too far below, anyway. Our job is to get a sample—just one—and once we’ve got it and we’re out of there, we’ll call in Ian’s missiles. That will be the slaughter.”
“I wish you wouldn’t call them ‘my’ missiles,” said Goodly. “I can’t help what I saw, can’t stop what will be.” And:
“My God…all those people!” Chung shook his head, looked small and pale and sick.
And Jake said, “Am I missing something here? I thought we’d already agreed that we won’t do it, that we simply can’t afford to bring something like that out of there?”
“Nothing living,” said Trask. “When we’re in the air again, we’ll tell them we have a sample and they can sink the ship. By the time they find out the sample isn’t alive it’ll be too late to do anything about it.”
“A dead sample?” said Liz.
“An undead one, yes.” Trask stared at her. “They want infected blood, flesh, brain tissue. That’s why they’re asking for—Jesus!—an entire ‘specimen.’ A person, for God’s sake! But we won’t let them have one. Oh, they’ll get what they want, but it won’t be walking on two legs, and it definitely won’t be thinking, calculating, and just waiting for its first opportunity.”
“Flesh, blood, brain tissue?” Jake frowned and continued to look puzzled.
But Trask only glanced at him and said, “No need to concern yourself. It’ll be more work for Lardis. For where that kind of thing is concerned, the Old Lidesci really is the world’s foremost expert. And not only on this world…”
They had been scheduled to go in that evening well before dark. It would have been sooner, but Trask’s one stipulation had been that he must be allowed to speak to the survivor first. Invincible’s medics, however, had temporarily sedated that one in the hope that sleep would be conducive to recovery. Used to dealing with physical rather than mental trauma—and lacking the guidance of the vessel’s chief medical officer, assumed dead on the Evening Star—they believed that sleep, a universal panacea, would be equally effective here. Perhaps it would be, but meanwhile their patient would be out for the next three or four hours.
After the E-Branch members had talked through and finalized details for the coming mission, as Goodly and Chung returned to the stateroom, Trask took Liz and Jake aside to talk to them in private.
“Things seem to be coming to the boil far more quickly than we expected,” he said. “And it really does appear that Malinari and Vavara have thrown caution to the wind. As for Lord Szwart: well, we don’t know about him; we can’t say for sure whether he was trapped and died below when you destroyed that temple under London” (he glanced at Jake, for once appreciatively, ungrudgingly), “or whether he escaped. But we do know that these creatures are tenacious beyond any other species. The other two…well, obviously they’re undead and well and until recently were living on that cruise ship. Or rather, on its passengers.”
“Both of them?” said Jake. “Look, I may not be as quick on the uptake as you people, but how can we be sure it wasn’t just one of them?”
“Because when we returned to England,” Trask told him, “our good friend Manolis Papastamos remained on Krassos with his men to prepare the way for our follow-up team. On the other side of the Palataki promontory, in a bight under the cliffs, they found evidence that suggested a boat had been kept there. There was a tunnel leading back into that labyrinth under the Little Palace, too. That was where Vavara was going when we forced her car off the road and into the sea not far from Palataki. The assumption has to be that she swam the rest of the way, or maybe clambered along the base of the sheer cliffs.” He shrugged and added, “No easy task, not even for a strong man. But there you go…Vavara is Wamphyri, after all.”
“And Malinari?” said Jake.
“Ian Goodly had a close encounter with him under Palataki,” said Trask, “so we know he was definitely there. That was just before the fireworks. But the point is, if Ian had time to get out of there and climb to the surface before the dynamite blew that place to hell—”
“—Then so did Malinari,” Jake finished it for him.
“Correct.” Trask nodded. “And since he didn’t emerge on the surface—”
“—It looks like he made his way to that cave and escaped by boat.”
“Along with Vavara, yes,” said Trask. “Let’s face it, Wamphyri or not, it would be damned difficult for just one of these creatures to take over a ship as big as the Evening Star. But both of them together…Nephran Malinari, with his powers of mentalism, and Vavara with her mass hypnotism? They could do it, all right. And they did. And when they met with resistance, with someone, or thing, or situation they couldn’t control—”
“—Then they resorted to mindless violence,” said Liz. “And there’s nothing so violent as a Great Vampire.”
“As witness the mess they made of that bridge,” said Trask, grimly. “I feel sort of sorry for Commander Argyle. He was just a bit too full of himself…until he saw that bridge. It’s as you told him, Liz: seeing is believing. Now he’s on our side. I heard him advise the Captain to give us carte blanche, but that was before the Admiralty entered the picture—or should we say before Porton Down came in on it.”
“This Porton Down,” said Jake. “I mean, how is it an outfit like that has so much clout?”
“But that’s where they found the answer to HIV,” Trask told him. “It’s also where they brewed up the antidote to the plague out of China, the new Asiatic bubonic. Hell, they do good work! So maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe we should have thought earlier to open this thing up, ask for outside help. Maybe our Minister Responsible—or whoever it was who let the cat out of the bag—has done the right thing after all. I just don’t know.”
“God, I’d certainly like to think so!” said Liz, with feeling. “You’d think we’d be hardened to it by now, but I for one never will be. Frankly, I’d far rather squirt aerosols or fire drugged darts than shoot silver bullets!”
“You and me both,” Jake agreed. “Surely anyone would rather cure than kill.”
“Do you really think so?” said Trask, looking morose again. “Perhaps you’d like to mention it to the Wamphyri. Huh! That’ll be the day!” And then, changing the subject:
“But that isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about. That’s something else, and it really can’t wait. It’s waited too long already. I don’t know, maybe it’s this Porton Down thing that’s brought it back into focus, but it is important that we keep it there.”
“What’s bothering you?” said Jake.
“Actually, you are!” Trask answered. But then he managed to grin, however sardonically. “No, I don’t mean in the old way—and yet, yes, perhaps in the old way, too. Okay, I’ll explain. You were down there under London with Szwart and Millie, and—”
“—And we haven’t been checked out since,” Jake cut in. “Is that it? You’re worried we might have been infected?” His voice was suddenly wary, thoughtful; likewise his narrow-eyed expression. And Trask couldn’t help but think how much he looked like the Necroscope Harry Keogh. In another moment it had passed and he was just Jake again, except “just” didn’t do it justice. For of course Jake, too, was a Necroscope. And in this world he was the Necroscope, the only one.
Trask shook his head. “I’m worried that the longer we leave it the less I like it,” he said. “Jake, I owe you more than any man should owe anyone, and no way I can ever repay you. But you have to understand that my concerns, my duties, go much farther than personal debts, loyalties, and friendships. I am concerned, yes—for you, and for Liz, your partner; for the branch, too, and all the good people in it—but mainly for humanity. Maybe I’ve been caught up in this game for too long, I can’t say, but at least I’ve learned a few half-decent tricks. In my time with E-Branch…Lord, I’ve seen some bad shit! So far I’ve managed to step clear, and that’s w
hat I’m trying to do now. That’s all I’m trying to do now.”
“Hold on,” said Jake. “It seems to me you’ve missed someone out of these ‘concerns’ of yours. I’m talking about Millie. She was down there under London with Szwart a lot longer than I was. So if you’re worried that maybe I’m a little more than I should be—and if that’s the case, personally I know nothing about it—then I’d suggest you stop worrying about me and check Millie out first!”
A cruel thing to say, perhaps. Harsh words: but as he spoke them Jake deliberately held Trask’s gaze, staring directly into his deep green eyes. And Ben Trask—being what he was, a human lie detector—knew that Jake spoke only the truth and straight from the heart. If anything had got into Jake in that forgotten Roman temple deep under London, he honestly wasn’t aware of it. But on the other hand only four days had passed since then, and weird things had a habit of getting into Jake Cutter.
As for Millie Cleary, the newly discovered love of Trask’s life: “Millie is being checked out right now,” he said. “That’s why she’s not with us. It was my excuse to keep her out of this…that she required extra decontamination and a complete physical. Not that I really needed an excuse—Millie was in a hell of a state when you brought her up out of there. You, however—as you just a moment ago demonstrated—seem in fine fettle. At least you think so. And anyway I needed you out here with us.”
“So let’s get to it,” said Jake. “What is it you require of me? What’s the bottom line? What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing much,” Trask shrugged, perhaps a little uncomfortably. “Just that as soon as we’re done here and back in London, you let us treat you the same as Millie: let us put you through a one hundred percent decontamination programme, a full medical checkup, and…and…” But there he paused.
“And?” said Jake, thinking here it comes!
“And that you give us your fullest assistance in trying to help you with…with your other problem, the one you told me about on our way out here.”
Oh, ha-haaaa! He’s talking about meeee! A loathsome deadspeak voice chuckled in Jake’s head. This idiot believes that he can erase, remove, or otherwise dispose of me, as if I were some kind of mental disorder. Well, I’m not, and he can’t! And telling him about me was a great error. These so-called psychiatrists you told me about can only do you enormous harm. Aye, for as you very well know, Jake Cutter, I’m no figment of your imagination—no alter ego, no Mr. Hyde playing to your Doctor Jekyll—but as real and as valid as you are. The only difference being that while you’re alive, I’m dead!
“But very much alive in me,” said Jake. “And I really don’t want or need you! And incidentally, I note you’ve accumulated a pretty good knowledge and understanding of this stuff: figments of imagination, alter egos, Jekylls and Hydes, and et cetera.”
All from your reading materials, Korath answered. This, er, sudden “penchant” of yours for psychology—especially schizophrenia and the like. Hah! And you’ve never once suspected that I was “reading over your shoulder,” as it were. For the fact is that until I speak to you, you simply don’t know I’m there; you don’t know if I’m awake or sleeping. But in any case there’s no way round it. I’m here in your head whether you like it or not, Jake Cutter, and neither your Mr. Trask nor all his psychiatric specialists put together can ever change that. Oh, ha-ha-ha!
“Bastard!” Jake muttered darkly, as Korath retreated. And:
“Him again?” Liz enquired, quietly.
“Him!” Jake growled. “Korath-once-Mindsthrall. “And believe me, I want rid of him just as much as you do…well, short of prefrontal lobotomy, that is!”
Trask shook his head. “That doesn’t come into it,” he said. “Don’t even think of it. We wouldn’t subject you to anything of that sort. But if we can find a way to shift this…this personal demon of yours—”
“He says you can’t,” said Jake. “And he makes a very valid point. He isn’t something I just dreamed up. He’s no figment of my own imagination. He was a lieutenant of the Wamphyri, one of Malinari’s creatures, and he was almost ready to ascend. That’s probably why Malinari wanted rid of him and rammed him headlong into that pipe under the Romanian refuge. Christ, what a way to die! But Harry Keogh and I, we talked to him there, and learned the histories of the Wamphyri…well, of Vavara and Malinari, anyway.”
“But that was a mistake,” Trask nodded. “For even dead vampires are dangerous to such as you.”
“That’s right,” said Jake, ruefully. “When they’re alive—or undead if you prefer—you can’t have physical contact with them. They radiate corruption like some kind of ultimate contaminant, like plutonium, so that even their presence is poisonous. And when they’re dead, you daren’t even talk to them.”
“I couldn’t anyway,” said Trask wonderingly, as always at a loss in this kind of conversation, still unable to fully accept the concept of a Necroscope.
“And I shouldn’t have,” said Jake. “But that wasn’t my idea. It was Harry who put me up to it.”
“But did he do it deliberately?” Liz wanted to know. “If so it might bear out Ben’s earlier concerns that it’s Harry’s dark side that may be influencing you.”
Jake shook his head. “No, and perhaps ‘put me up to it’ was a bad choice of words. He ‘suggested it,’ yes, but only because he wanted to find out about our invaders. And who better to get it from than one of their own? It was for my protection, and it was my mistake. In fact it was Harry who warned me never to let a vampire into my mind. Damn good advice! But when Harry wasn’t there, then Korath persuaded me otherwise. With such as him the word ‘devious’ takes on a whole new level of meaning!”
“You’re satisfied, then,” said Trask, “that what the Necroscope gave you was for the general good? For your good, and the world’s both?”
“For my good?” Jake lifted an eyebrow. “Well, I can’t say I entirely agree with that! But let’s face it—you, me, Liz, all of us—without it we’d have been dead for quite some time now out there in Australia.”
“That’s true,” said Trask.
“And it’s also true that for all I hate Korath and want rid of the bastard,” Jake went on, “still he played his part in all of that.”
Trask nodded and said, “But for his own ends, as you’ve now discovered. Best to get it straight in your head, son: vampires don’t do anything for nothing…except maybe kill. They don’t need a reason for that, it just happens as the mood takes them. What I’m saying is, Korath wasn’t doing us any favours.”
“I know,” said Jake. “To save me he had to save all of us, but I’m the one he really cares about. That is: I’m the one he needs. Without me he’s nothing, just a bunch of polished bones circulating in black water in a night-dark sump in some burned-out, godforsaken Romanian sinkhole!”
“Yes,” Trask agreed, “but whatever else you do, don’t ever go feeling sorry for him. Which takes us back where we started. You said you want rid of him, and so do we all. Are you willing to let the best specialists we can find have a look at you? I’m not talking quacks but people like Grahame McGilchrist, who you met in Australia. Back home in London, we have some of the best in the world.”
“Whatever you say,” Jake answered. “Just as long as they’re not going to slice my brain open, I don’t really care. And yes, I’ll help all I can. But I know that whatever we do Korath will fight me all the way. He’s fighting for his ‘life,’ after all.”
Trask nodded, and said, “Then that’s it. We’re all done for now. We can join the others, see how our survivor is doing.”
“Not so fast,” said Jake, taking Trask by the arm before he could turn away. “We’re not done yet.”
For a moment Trask stood stock-still, frozen there, staring fixedly at Jake’s hand on his arm. Then he sighed, relaxed, and said, “Very well. I gave you my word after you’d saved Millie’s life, and a promise is a promise. What is it you want to know?”
But with a heartfelt
sigh of her own, Liz spoke before Jake and said, “Well, thank goodness for that! And not before time.”
Jake stared at her, then at Trask, and said, “Just look at you. You know, don’t you? I mean, both of you—all of you know—even before I’ve asked my question! Okay, what is it that you haven’t dared to tell me about Harry? What’s this down you have on him?”
“A down? On Harry?” Trask offered a wry smile and shook his head. “No such thing, Jake. I was one of the last people to see him in this world—I watched him leave this world, by a route you haven’t discovered yet—and while it was my duty, while I had every right to stop him, I didn’t even try but let him go.”
“You let him go?” Jake frowned and did a double take. Shaking his head, he looked from Trask to Liz and back again. “What are you talking about, you let him go? He was E-Branch’s greatest hero, or so I’ve been led to believe. Yet you make it sound as if he were a criminal, almost as if he were some kind of…of…” As Jake stumbled to a pause, so his frown fell away and his eyes went wide.
“Some kind of vampire?” said Trask, queryingly. “The answer is yes, and believe me I do mean some kind of vampire, the most powerful ever! Harry Keogh, Necroscope…but he was also Wamphyri, Jake, Wamphyri!”
“That’s right,” Liz nodded. “And now you understand why Ben didn’t tell you. Because you’re too valuable and he didn’t want to scare you off, didn’t want to lose you. Yes, Harry Keogh was a hero. And yes, he almost single-handedly won the first battle that E-Branch ever fought against vampires. Me, I wasn’t around then, but I’ve read up on it. When we get back to London, there are some files you’ll want to read up on, too, now.”
Jake still couldn’t take it in. “But…Harry? A vampire?”
“Right at the end of his time here, yes,” said Trask. “He’d got too close to them and let them get too close to him. He was Wamphyri, but he made me a promise and he kept it. And he carried on the fight in Starside. Ask Lardis Lidesci about it. He’s been biding his time, just waiting to tell you.”