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The Psychonaut: Book 1 in the Psychonaut Trilogy

Page 24

by Adams, Tom


  “Smug prick.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”

  Merrick punched in Mike’s number and waited for the connection.

  “It’s not great reception here,” Jason said.

  He wasn’t joking. Merrick could just make out Mike’s voice above the crackle of interference. His long-time buddy seemed genuinely pleased to hear from him. Merrick relayed what had happened at the Ukurum lair, ending with Arun’s fall at the hands of the Necrolyte.

  “My God, this is a setback,” Mike said, once he had finished. “What do you reckon his chances are?”

  “Hard to say, Mike. He’s not out of surgery yet.”

  “Christ, we’re in over our heads old son; maybe it’s time we cut our losses and left this occult business to Karapetian and Shamon.”

  “I can’t throw in the towel, Mike. There’s too much at stake. I’m going to discuss a proposal with Jason, see if the Hierophants are willing to accept my terms. But, hey, I’ll understand if you want to back out. Just withdraw the money you need from my account—you’ve more than earned it.”

  “It’s an attractive offer, but there’s a problem.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your account’s had a block put on it. I can’t move any money in or out.”

  “Shit. D’you think it’s the SCU ?”

  “Don’t think so. I’ve done some ferreting around and located an IP address in Italy. Someone’s been operating your account from there. I don’t know how they’re doing it, but I aim to find out by the end of the day.”

  “Good chap. How did you get on with tracking down the other Outcasts?”

  “Albany touched base with this Juliana. She accepted our story after a little persuasion and Arun’s charm. She’s going to get in touch with the Outcast network. It looks promising.”

  “At least there’s some good news, then. Look, I’ll be in touch but I need to discuss some things with Jason, and I want to stay around for Arun. Are the other two behaving themselves?”

  “Rovach and Albany? They’re following up more leads on the Outcasts. I guess no news is good news.”

  “I hope so. Oh—and Mike ... “

  “Yep?”

  “You know I appreciate what you’ve sacrificed.”

  “Yeah, I know—I’m a brick.”

  Merrick tossed the mobile back to Jason, who caught it and placed it in his pocket.

  “So, you’ve got terms?” Jason said. “That implies that you’re proposing a deal.” Jason leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.”

  Merrick sniffed. “Less of a deal, more of a merger.”

  “What makes you think we’d want a merger? You seem to be doing your best to asset-strip the Hierophants by the day. Or is this a hostile takeover bid?”

  “Let’s cut the bullshit. You know that you need me—why else would you be here in Turkmenistan?”

  “You could be over-estimating your value. Don’t forget, Shamon has the seat of his empire here. Maybe I’m just keeping tabs.”

  “Have you learned anything new?”

  A suggestion of a smirk curled Jason’s lip. “Quid pro quo, Whyte. Let’s trade information and see if it gets us any further than abuse or the threat of physical violence.”

  Merrick saw the logic in Jason’s gambit. “Very well. Just to show I can be reasonable, I’ll start. You know by now that Shamon’s been building an army, but did you know where he’s recruiting from?”

  “Go on.”

  Merrick told him about Cebelrai, the Necrolytes and the Amorphic. He skirted around the detail of Shamon’s lair and said nothing of Jahun’s gateway. He needed to leave something in reserve.

  Jason seemed genuinely enlightened with the new intelligence—Merrick caught a whiff of surprise leaking out of his psyche. Either Jason was dropping his guard or Merrick’s psychonautic power had grown in the intervening months. Jason asked a couple of clarifying questions and Merrick answered without giving anything else away.

  “Okay, your turn.”

  Jason leaned forward. “We haven’t been idle since you deserted.” The man’s turn of phrase irked Merrick, but he let it slide. “We too have added to our numbers. Other orders have seen the tide turning and negotiated an alliance with us.”

  “I knew the Hermetics had thrown their lot in with you. I didn’t know there were oodles of you occultists.”

  “More than you can imagine. Of course, some are running to ground—hoping to weather the storm. They don’t seem to understand that what’s coming isn’t so much a hurricane but a scourge, and the disease of the Ukurum will infect us all if it’s not stopped, whether you’re hiding in a burrow or standing defiant.”

  Merrick nodded. Jason told the truth—though not all of it. “Shamon is swelling his ranks with warriors. I may have decimated the current crop, but his nutritive tanks beyond the gateway will be incubating more as we speak.”

  Jason looked pensive. “Shamon’s cloaked his strategy from us. Even if he has an army tens of thousands strong, he won’t dare risk an all-out assault on this world. The jaded ones may not have magickal lore at their disposal, but conventional weapons still pack a punch.”

  “You’re right. He has weaknesses, but when I was close to him I sensed he was hiding something big. He made a show of revealing his conquest of Cebelrai, and his domination of Lotus. But there was more hiding behind his illusion of openness.”

  Jason got up. “I’m due to give Lazlo an update. What should I tell him about our future cooperation?”

  “Is that an offer?”

  “If you like. We might consider ourselves adversaries, but there is also truth in the saying my enemy’s enemy is my friend.”

  “Friend might be pushing it, and I do have conditions.”

  “Then you can discuss them with Lazlo. Let me speak to him first.” Jason made to leave and almost collided with Celestia coming in. He gave her a disdainful look and pushed past.

  She held herself awkwardly. Merrick surmised her dose of painkillers was wearing off. “Couchon,” she muttered.

  “Celestia,” Merrick said. “You should be resting.”

  “I had to come. It’s Arun—he’s out of theatre.”

  ~~~

  They entered the Hierophant ICU to find Destain sitting by Arun’s side. Despite the decrepit finish of the building, the medical equipment looked as up to date as Merrick had ever seen. An ECG monitor blipped out its ping-pong rhythm in the corner, while various tubes delivered vital nutrients and oxygen to the immobile Arun.

  “Well?” Merrick whispered.

  Destain adjusted the drip feed. “He’s alive—for now. But the life force ebbs and flows. His amputation at the hands of the Necrolyte was only half the problem. Their weapons are cursed with dark poison, and it has taken root in his body.”

  “Is there anything to counteract it?” Celestia said.

  “I’ve applied the entirety of my knowledge for the last few hours, now it’s up to him. If his desire for life is strong, he may recover.” He passed his outstretched palm over Arun’s chest and muttered a string of incantations.

  Not for the first time, Merrick’s impotence rose like a finger, giving him the bird, mocking him. What use was the power to traverse gateways, or to topple your enemies if you couldn’t even save the lives of those you held dear?

  “We’re indebted to you,” Merrick said.

  “It’s small recompense to the gift of freedom you have afforded me.”

  “I take it you weren’t holed up with Shamon out of choice?”

  “Far from it. I was abducted two years ago. Taken from my home. I should have seen it coming, but I convinced Karapetian I didn’t need the protection of Paraganet House.”

  “Wait a minute. You’re a Hierophant?”

  “Technically, yes. But I never took the oaths, so I was what you might call a magickal freelancer. My brother and I never liked to be beholden to anybody.”

  “You have a brother?” Celestia
said.

  “Yes—Albany is his name.”

  Merrick and Celestia looked at each other, broad grins on their faces.

  “Do you want to tell him, or shall I?” Merrick said.

  ~~~

  The reunion between Albany and his brother served to lighten the Outcasts’ mood. Mike, Rovach and Albany decamped to the clinic at Jason’s suggestion. It was more secure than their humble dwelling over the carpet shop, and would allow them to discuss matters with Jason and track Arun’s progress.

  Albany and Destain embraced not once, but three times. It did Merrick good to hear Albany roaring with laughter and slapping his brother on the back.

  “Seems like these two could fall into a tank of shit and still surface smelling of flowers,” Merrick said to Celestia.

  “Bien sûr, it is an unexpected light in the black.” Her mouth held a smile for a moment, then straightened into a solemn line.

  “What is it?” Merrick asked.

  “Jason and Karapetian. I don’t trust them. Are you sure it’s the right decision teaming up with them again?”

  “I’m not certain, no. I think they’re both conniving bastards, but we need each other for the moment. We have information as currency, and whatever blessing or curse my psychonautics bring. They have the networks and the numbers. If they end up being a tiny bit more palatable enemy than Shamon, then at least we’re keeping them close.”

  Years of financial power-play and his boardroom diplomacy put Merrick in a powerful position with Karapetian. The head Hierophant might have held the upper hand before, but at the time, Merrick was ignorant of the unseen world; he was not the same man as he was six months ago. The steely fist of resolve clenched in his mind as a strategy started to form.

  It was time to talk with Lazlo Karapetian.

  Chapter 28

  Do you close your eyes?

  Jason met them at the clinic door the next morning. The Outcasts had packed what meagre belongings they had and were loading them into an MPV.

  It was decided that Destain should stay and watch over Arun to aid his recovery. Jason also committed to heading up the operation in Turkmenistan. Albany balked at first, claiming Destain was still in the danger zone. He remonstrated about how he’d been on the rack for years, wondering at Destain’s fate and enduring sleepless nights as Shamon’s mole, just to become separated again after a few hours. But Jason assured him the clinic was secure and that everywhere held a measure of danger for their alliance now.

  “Stay in touch,” Albany said to his brother, his hands resting protectively on both his shoulders.

  “You can be sure I will,” Destain replied. He leaned closer and lowered his voice.

  “Besides, we need a presence here, not just to track Shamon’s movements, but also those of our Hierophant friends.”

  Albany nodded. “Just don’t turn your back on Jason. He may be an ally for now, but he can never be our friend.”

  “I know—you told me.”

  “Sorry. Am I being over-protective?”

  “As always.”

  “Forgive me. I don’t know what the future will bring, but I don’t intend to lose you again.”

  “The future? Now that’s something I have a little insight into.”

  “Destain—play to your strengths. You’re a healer, not a clairvoyant.”

  “So you keep saying, but I didn’t lose my sight on a whim of the gods. There was a purpose behind my affliction. I tell you, I see things and I cannot deny them.”

  Albany looked down, holding back what Merrick could tell were futile entreaties. The brothers embraced once more, then Albany picked up his bag and hefted it into the luggage space. He was driving, as usual.

  Before sliding the door closed, Jason leaned in and gave some parting words. “By Aiwass, I can’t get used to those twisted features of yours, Whyte.”

  “You should worry. I’m the one who has to look at his own reflection for the next few days and wonder if someone’s stolen his face.”

  “Albany’s done a good job. I certainly wouldn’t look twice. Are you sure you’re not going to use our migration corridor and associates for the trip back to England?”

  “Thanks for the offer,” Merrick said. “But we’re a large enough party as it is. Besides, we’ve some business in Italy before we meet up with the boss man.”

  “Yes, I don’t like the sound of this venture. Why take the risk? The Hierophants have enough resources. You don’t need whatever meagre funds you’ve locked up in your offshore accounts.”

  Merrick wasn’t about to admit that he didn’t want to throw away a lifetime’s riches. Maybe the Hierophant’s resources dwarfed theirs, but the Outcasts needed financial independence. They couldn’t be in hock to Karapetian.

  “It’s not just about the money, Jason. If the Ukurum have gained access to my accounts, there’s no guessing how far they’ve infiltrated other digital assets. We’ve got to neutralise this threat at its source.”

  “Can’t Mike perform his jiggery-pokery and take control remotely?”

  “He says not. Anyhow, whoever it is would just be free to strike again using a different method.”

  Merrick had no doubt Jason could read between the lines, but the Hierophant let it drop.

  “Keep us informed,” Jason said. “We need to share intelligence as and when we get it. This arrangement will only work if we’re open about things.”

  Merrick rolled his tongue in his cheek. It was his turn to let things slide.

  “One more thing,” Jason said. “When you take these people out, make sure you it’s permanent.”

  “Take no prisoners, eh?”

  “Well, Shamon won’t—unless he thinks you could still be an asset to him; and that seems unlikely given the effective job you did of disabusing him of the notion.”

  “So long, Jason.”

  “For now.”

  Through the window, Merrick watched Jason diminish into the distance as Albany pulled away.

  With Albany’s genetic manipulation and Rovach’s illusionary capabilities, they passed themselves off as a husband and wife in one group, and three friends on a back-packing trip in the other. Merrick still thought Albany, Rovach and Mike looked an unlikely trio but they would have to take their chances.

  As they lined up at the departure gate, Celestia looked at her passport. “So, I’m Mrs Dwight-Hetherington am I?”

  “Collector of fine art and expensive shoes, apparently,” Merrick replied.

  “And you’re a trader in fine Persian rugs.”

  “Stops me being anybody’s doormat.”

  Celestia smiled. “Tu est un comedian.” She took hold of his arm. “Tell me, husband of mine. Are we very much in love?”

  Merrick thought for a moment. They were mentally closed off from each other by mutual consent. “I think we must be. I’ve been so dazzled by your beauty that I’ve eschewed my womanising ways and embraced monogamy.”

  She threw her head back and laughed. Merrick allowed himself to feel content, if only for a moment.

  ~~~

  Leonardo da Vinci airport was as far removed from Turkmenistan’s Ashgabat International as it could be. The melee of travellers swirled through the terminal like ants. It was perfect cover, yet Merrick was still tense.

  Are you certain we’re undetected? he sent to Celestia.

  Surement. It is hard to filter out the swarm of mental activity here, but there are no threats in the immediate vicinity.

  The companions stayed within eye contact of each other, but took two separate cabs to their destination, the Jumeirah Grand Hotel. With Merrick’s credit cards off limits, he had to survive on borrowed Hierophant cash. He didn’t relish being dependent on Jason, but it wasn’t like he had a choice.

  “This place is, how do you say it in English ... lavish?” Celestia said as she signed the guestbook.

  “Mr and Mrs Dwight-Hetherington wouldn’t settle for anything less,” Merrick replied.

  “We need cl
othes more fitting for a CEO and his wife.”

  Merrick looked down at his ruffled jacket and creased chinos. “I agree. Do you fancy a shopping trip this afternoon?”

  “Shouldn’t we be running our quarry to ground?”

  “Mike has enquiries to make with his Italian network and pinpoint our hacker’s location. He only has an IP address to go on at the moment.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Then we have time to kill?”

  “Certainement.”

  “You need to work on your French, mon cher.”

  “That’s the best offer I’ve had all day.”

  “Are you flirting with me, Mr Dwight-Hetherington?”

  Damn it - he was. His demeanour fell under a swath of guilt and Celestia couldn’t help but notice.

  Je suis désolé, Merrick. I forget myself.

  It’s okay. He let his ardour douse itself. He couldn’t afford this kind of distraction—there was too much at stake, too many lives depended on him being focused.

  He mouthed an apology and followed the bellhop to the lift. Celestia trailed behind.

  After tipping the bellhop, Merrick looked at his watch—it had self-adjusted by virtue of the GPS coordinates. It occurred to him that such a device could be hacked into and used to track his movements. He resolved to check it out with Mike.

  “It’s three-thirty, local time,” he said to Celestia. “I’m going to call on Mike and see what he’s gleaned.”

  Très bien, Celestia sent. I’m going to take a shower. They communicated by telepathy as a default—the change crept up on Merrick like a surprise gift. He noted its significance but chose to suppress it.

  Haven’t I told you before—get a grip, Whyte.

  The other Outcasts had a suite of rooms on the next floor. Merrick took the stairs and knocked on the main door. It opened a crack and revealed Rovach’s disguised face. The illusionist nodded and let him in.

  “Everything okay?” Merrick said. Rovach pointed next door and Merrick followed the man’s signal. He’d grown tolerant to the illusionist’s silent communication over the months, but he still found it unsettling.

  In the adjoining room, Albany brewed a cup of tea. Mike was hunched over his laptop, a whisky from the mini-bar at his side.

 

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