Lifeforce

by Colin Wilson

  “What did all that mean?”

  Geijerstam spoke to the old woman in Lettish; her reply lasted for several minutes. Carlsen tried hard to follow; he had picked up a few words of Lettish when training in Riga. Now he recognised the word ” bistams,” meaning dangerous, and the noun ” briesmas” — danger. Geijerstam said: ” Ne sieviete?” and she shrugged and said: ” Varbut.” She picked up the pendulum, still speaking, and held it out over him as he sat, leaning against the wall. After a few moments, it began its circular motion. She moved across to Fallada and held it over his stomach. This time it continued to oscillate back and forth. She shrugged: ” Loti atvainojos.” She tossed the pendulum onto the bed.

  Carlsen said: “What is she sorry about?”

  Geijerstam said: “It is puzzling, but not entirely unexpected. While Torsten Vetterlund was in the power of Nina, the pendulum registered him as a woman. I have told her this, but she is pointing out that the same length — about sixty-three centimetres — can also mean danger.”

  He said: “You mean that’s the reaction she’s getting from me?”

  “Yes.”

  He felt his stomach sink with disappointment and depression. At once he realised he was feeling sick and exhausted. In a few seconds, it had become so acute that he was afraid he was going to vomit. His forehead was prickling with sweat. As he groped his way to his feet, the dog began to growl. It was backing away, blocking the doorway, its fur bristling.

  Geijerstam said: “What are you doing?”

  “I feel sick. I think I need a breath of fresh air.”

  “No!” Geijerstam said it so sharply that Carlsen stared with surprise. Geijerstam placed a hand on his wrist. “Don’t you understand what is happening? Look at the dog. The vampire is back, isn’t she? Close your eyes. Can’t you feel that she is here?”

  Carlsen closed his eyes, but he seemed unable to think or record his impressions. It was like acute delirium. “I think I’m going to faint.” He tried to move to the door again; the dog crouched and growled, showing its fangs.

  Geijerstam and Fallada were on either side of him; he realised that he was swaying. Geijerstam said: “We must do one more test — a crucial one. Come and lie down over here.” They led Carlsen across the room. He had a sense of will-lessness, as if all his strength had been drained. He lay flat on his back, but immediately felt so sick that he had to turn over onto his stomach. The matting felt rough against his forehead and smelt dusty. He closed his eyes again and seemed to drift into a twilight world, a kind of black mist. At once he understood what was happening. She was there, but she was not concerned with him. She was communicating with the derelict, which still floated in the black emptiness. Now he could also sense wave after wave of ravenous hunger emanating from the wreck. The men in the spaceships had gone, and the aliens felt cheated. They were angry that they were still there; they could not understand what had gone wrong. She was finding it hard to make them understand, because she was in another world; she was conscious, they were asleep. Their agony lashed her like whips. Like an induction coil, Carlsen was recording her torment.

  Through the mist he heard Geijerstam say: “Please turn over for a moment.” With an effort, he opened his eyes and twisted onto his back. He was only half in the room, and the black clouds drifted between himself and the others. He could see that the old woman had mounted the flight of steps against the wall, and that the pendulum was now dangling over his chest. It began to swing is a wide circle. He felt beads of sweat running from his armpits down his sides.

  Geijerstam’s voice said finally: “You can get up now.” With a painful effort, he propped himself up on his elbows. The dog began to bark frantically. He leaned back against the wood of the stairs, afraid to close his eyes in case he was again drawn back into the world of hunger and, pain. He became aware that the old woman was standing over him, holding something out. She said in halting Swedish: “Here, take this and smell it.”

  From the smell he realised that it was garlic. He shook his head. “I can’t.”

  Geijerstam said: “Please try to do as she says.”

  He accepted it and held it against his face. It felt as if someone were holding a pillow over his nostrils. It smelt of decay and death. He began to cough and choke, the tears running down his cheeks. Panic rose in him, a fear of choking to death. Then, quite abruptly, the sickness vanished. It was as if a door had closed, shutting out a nerve-wracking sound. He realised the dog had stopped barking.

  Fallada laid a hand on his shoulder. “How do you feel now?” He felt grateful for the genuine conern in his voice.

  “Much better. Could I go outside now?” The desire for fresh air was like thirst.

  They took his arms and helped him through the door. He sat down on the wooden bench, his back resting against the wall. The sunlight was warm on his closed eyelids. He could hear birds and the wind in the branches. He felt someone grasp his wrists. It was the old woman. She was sitting on a low stool, facing him, her face wrinkled, as if concentrating. Then she looked into his eyes and spoke in Lettish. Geijerstam translated: “She says: do not give way to fear. Your chief enemy is fear. A vampire cannot destroy you unless you give your consent.”

  Carlsen managed to smile. “I know that.”

  She spoke again. Geijerstam said: “She says: vampires are unlucky.”

  “I know that too.”

  The old woman pressed his wrists, looking into his eyes. This time, she spoke in Swedish. “Remember that if she is inside you, you are also inside her.”

  He frowned, shaking his head. “I don’t understand.”

  She smiled and stood up. She said something to Geijerstam in her own language, then went into the cottage. She came out almost immediately and placed something in his hand. It was a small brass ring, with a piece of string attached to it.

  “She says you should tie it to your right arm to protect you from evil. It is a Lett witch charm.”

  Carlsen said: ” Loti pateicos.” She smiled and curtsied.

  Geijerstam said: “Do you feel well enough to walk back to the house?”

  “Yes. I feel better now.”

  Geijerstam bowed to the old woman; she took his hand and kissed it. As they turned back at the edge of the clearing, she was standing with one hand on the dog’s head.

  They heard shouts of laughter as they emerged from the trees. The three girls were swimming in the lake; Annaleise was on her back, kicking up a haze of spray. When Selma Bengtsson saw them, she waved and called: “Your wife tried to reach you.”

  Carlsen asked: “Did she leave a message?”

  “No.”

  Geijerstam said: “Why don’t you call her back? Perhaps, if there is no urgency, you could stay another day?”

  “You’re very kind.”

  The dreamlike sensation had left him; now he was physically tired. He wanted to lie down and sleep. The idea of relaxing for another day was attractive.

  In the house, Geijerstam said: “Please use the screen in my study. That is upstairs.”

  It was a small, comfortable room that smelt of warm leather and cigars. The leather smell came from the old-fashioned settee, which was standing too close to the log fire. As he sat down at the desk, Carlsen said: “Would you mind being introduced to my wife? She discovered your book, so she’d like to say hello.”

  “It would be a pleasure.”

  He was able to dial direct. Jeanette’s face appeared on the screen. She said: “Daddy! Are you on the moon?”

  “No, darling. Just across the sea. Is Mummy there?”

  Jelka’s voice said: “Yes, I’m here. Hello.” She picked Jeanette up and sat her on her knee. “Are you all right?” For some reason, Jelka was never at ease on the telescreen. Her manner seemed detached and cool, like a secretary.

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  Jeanette asked: “Are you coming home today?”

  “I don’t know, darling. I might stay another day. I’m staying in a castle that belongs to
this gentleman.” He beckoned to Geijerstam, who moved within range of the screen. Carlsen introduced him, and Jelka and Geijerstam exchanged polite comments. Jeanette interrupted:

  “Daddy, what’s a pryminister?”

  “A what?”

  Jelka said: “Oh, yes. The Prime Minister’s office wanted to get in touch with you. Unfortunately, I’d lost your address.”

  He felt a stir of uneasiness, like a cold wind on the back of his neck. “What did they want?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “And did you find the address?”

  “No. Susan’s been making paper aeroplanes out of the jotting pad.”

  “Then how did you get this number?”

  “I rang Fred Armfeldt at the Swedish embassy. The Prime Minister’s secretary’s going to ring back later. I’ll give him the number then.”

  “No!”

  She looked startled at his vehemence. She asked: “Why not?”

  “Because… because I don’t want anyone to disturb me.”

  “But suppose it’s important?”

  “Never mind that.” He was aware of the irritation in his voice. “If anyone rings, say you’ve lost my address.”

  She looked around. “That’s someone at the door. When are you coming home?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon.”

  When he had rung off, Geijerstam said: “Do you have something against your Prime Minister?”

  He was massaging his eyes with his fingers; he shook his head. “No. It’s just that…” He shrugged.

  “What?”

  He looked up. “Does it matter?”

  “I would like to know.”

  Carlsen stared out of the window, frowning. He said: “I… don’t know. I suppose I’m enjoying myself here.”

  There was a knock on the door. Fallada said: “I’m not intruding?”

  “No, come in.”

  Carlsen said: “Did you leave a message with your staff about where you were going?”

  Fallada said with surprise: “Of course.” Then he frowned, scratching the end of his nose. “Although now you come to mention it, I’m not sure I did. I meant to… Why?”

  Carlsen said: “Oh, nothing.”

  Geijerstam smiled at Fallada. “So you forgot to leave your address. And Commander Carlsen left it where it could be mislaid. So no one now knows where you are. As a psychologist, what would you say to that?”

  Fallada nodded. “Yes… you’ve got a point. Although if Carlsen actually left the address, it sounds more like an accident.”

  “Except that I have just heard him tell his wife that she is to tell the Prime Minister’s office that she doesn’t know where he is.”

  Carlsen and Fallada started to speak at once. Fallada said: “That’s easily explained. We both had a session with the Prime Minister two days ago. He doesn’t believe these vampires are dangerous. So neither of us trusts him.”

  Geijerstam stood by the window, staring out. He said slowly: “It is my experience that when the subconscious gives us warnings, we should heed the warnings.”

  Carlsen asked: “What are you suggesting?”

  Geijerstam sat on the edge of the desk, where he could look into Carlsen’s face. He said: “Do you remember the last thing Moa said to you?”

  “Whatever it was, I didn’t understand it.”

  “She said: ‘Remember that if she is inside you, you are also inside her.’ ”

  Carlsen said: “Which is untrue.”

  “Is it?”

  “I don’t know what she meant.”

  “She meant that if this alien is in contact with your mind, you are also in contact with hers.”

  Fallada said quickly: “How?”

  Geijerstam asked Carlsen: “Have you ever been hypnotised?”

  Fallada snapped his fingers. “Yes! That’s worth trying.”

  Carlsen shook his head. Geijerstam said: “Would you be willing to allow me to try?”

  Carlsen overcame the sinking feeling; he took a deep breath. “I suppose… it wouldn’t do any harm.”

  “You don’t like the idea?”

  Carlsen said apologetically: “It’s just that… I’m beginning to feel my mind’s not my own.”

  “I understand. But this is something that need not alarm you. You will remain conscious all the time.”

  Carlsen asked with surprise: “Is that possible?”

  “Of course. I prefer my subjects to remain fully conscious.”

  Fallada said: “It is quite safe. I have been hypnotised a dozen times. When we were students, we used to do it as a game.”

  Carlsen said: “All right. When?”

  “Why not now?”

  Carlsen smiled. “I shall probably fall asleep. I’m pretty tired.”

  “That would not matter.” Geijerstam pulled a cord, drawing the curtains. He switched on the reading lamp on the desk.

  Fallada said: “Would you like me to go away?”

  “Not unless Commander Carlsen would prefer it.” From a cupboard he took a metal stand; the curved top had a hook on it. From this he suspended a chromium sphere on a length of string. It turned gently in the light of the reading lamp.

  Carlsen, staring at it, said: “I don’t mind.”

  Geijerstam turned the lamp so that Carlsen’s face was in shadow. He said: “The purpose of the ball is to fatigue your vision. Stare at it until your eyes feel tired, then close them. I want you to feel quite relaxed in your chair. I can hypnotise you only with your help. The important thing is for you to feel comfortable and relaxed.” His voice went on, speaking quietly and slowly, as he set the pendulum swinging. Carlsen allowed himself to relax deep into the leather-covered chair. Beyond the ball he could dimly see the outline of Fallada seated on the settee, the firelight reflected on his glasses. Geijerstam was saying softly: “That’s right, allow yourself to sink back comfortably, and listen carefully to what I say. Now you are thinking of nothing. Your eyes are feeling tired. Your eyelids are heavy. You would like to close them.” It was true; the light was hurting his eyes. He closed them, experiencing a sense of warm darkness. Geijerstam’s voice was saying: “Your body feels heavy and relaxed. You feel as if you are sinking into the chair. You are breathing deeply and regularly, deeply and regularly…” He was feeling the warm, comfortable sense of trust that he had experienced as a child when he was about to be anaesthetised for a minor operation. He was aware of nothing but his breathing and Geijerstam’s voice. Then the voice stopped. He felt Geijerstam lift his right arm, then drop it. It was a strange sensation, like waking from a very deep sleep and lying in a warm and comfortable bed, with no desire to move. The passage of time was a matter of indifference. He would have been happy to float in this state of disconnected contentment for days or weeks.

  Geijerstam’s voice said: “Are you able to speak to me? Answer yes if you are.”

  With an effort to overcome the heavy languor, he said: “Yes.”

  “Do you know where you are?”

  “I’m in Sweden.”

  “Are you one person or two?”

  “One.”

  “But this female vampire — is she not inside you?”

  “No.”

  “But she was inside you last night?”

  “No.”

  “Not inside you?”

  “No. She was in touch with me. Her mind was in touch with mine. Like a telescreen.”

  “Is she in touch with you now?”

  “No.”

  “Does she know where you are now?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “She hasn’t asked.”

  “Would you tell her if she asked?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know where she is now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know its name.”

  “But you know where she is?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you describe it?”

  He was silent for a whi
le. He was walking beside her, along a muddy road. It had been raining. She was wearing a brightly coloured dress, with red and yellow stripes. In the distance there were the towering office blocks of a city. Geijerstam said: “Where is she now?”

  “She is walking on a moor.”

  “What is she doing?”

  “She is looking for a man.”

  “What man?”

  “Any man. She wants someone young and healthy — someone who works in a factory.”

  “Does she intend to kill him?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “She is afraid of being caught.”

  Fallada’s voice interrupted: “How could she be caught?”

  “The body would give her away.”

  “So what is she hoping to do?” It was Geijerstam again.

  “To find a healthy man and seduce him. She will take some energy from him — not enough to kill him.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then she will draw energy from him — as she draws it from me.”

  Fallada, who was sitting on the far edge of the desk, snapped his fingers. “Of course! That’s what they intend to do. Set up a network of energy donors!” He asked Carlsen: “Is that true?”

  “Yes.”

  Geijerstam said: “Whose body is she using now?”

  Carlsen hesitated. It was almost impossible to read the alien’s mind. If he tried, it would alert her. But there was another mind. He said: “I think her name is Helen. She is a nurse.”

  “In a hospital?”

  “I… think so,”

  “Is Helen dead now?”

  “No. She is still in her body.”

  “You mean there are two people in one body — Helen and the vampire?” Geijerstam’s voice revealed his tension.

  “Yes.”

  Fallada said: “What happened to the other body — the man she took over?”

  Carlsen said nothing. He knew the answer was locked in the alien’s mind, and that it was like an immense steel safe. Geijerstam asked him. “Can you tell us anything about the other body? Anything that might give us a clue?”