by Brian Lumley
Depleted, yes. The thing inside him needed, and Dragosani knew what it needed. He felt Batu’s hand on his shoulder and could almost hear the blood surging in the other’s veins. Then Dragosani saw the sharp, curved surgical tool with which he would have slit the ewe’s throat. It lay there close to his hand, silver against the black earth. Ah, well, he had intended this eventually. It would be so much sooner, that was all.
Two things I need from you, Max,’ Dragosani said, and looked up.
Max Batu gasped aloud and his jaw fell open. The necromancer’s eyes were scarlet as those of the fiend he had just killed! The Mongol saw them — saw something else that glittered silver in the night — and saw… nothing else. Ever…
INTERVAL TWO:
‘I have to stop,’ Alec Kyle told his weird visitor. He put down his pencil, massaged his cramped wrist. The desk was littered with the curled shavings of five pencils, all of them whittled away to nothing. This was Kyle’s sixth and his arm felt mangled from frantic scribbling.
A thin sheaf of papers was stacked in front of Kyle, with pencilled notes and jottings covering each sheet top to bottom and margin to margin. When he had started to write all of this down (how long ago? Four and a half, five hours?) the notes had been fairly detailed. Within an hour they’d become jottings, barely legible scrawl. Now even Kyle himself could scarcely read them, and they were reduced to a listing of dates alongside brief headlines.
Now, for a moment resting his wrist and mind both, Kyle glanced at the dates again and shook his head. He still believed — instinctively knew — that all of this was the absolute truth, but there was one massively glaring anomaly here. An ambiguity he couldn’t ignore. Kyle frowned, looked up at the apparition where it floated upright on the other side of the desk, blinked his eyes at this shimmering spectre of a man and said: ‘There’s something I don’t quite understand.’ Then he laughed, and not a little hysterically. ‘I mean, there are a good many things here which I don’t understand — but until now I’ve at least believed them. This is harder to believe.’
‘Oh?’ said the apparition.
Kyle nodded. Today’s Monday,’ he said. ‘Sir Keenan is to be cremated tomorrow. The police have discovered nothing as yet and it seems almost blasphemous to keep his body, well, lying about in that condition.’
‘Yes,’ the other nodded his agreement.
‘Well,’ Kyle continued, ‘the point is I know a lot of what you’ve told me to be the truth, and I suspect that the rest of it is too. You’ve told me things no one else outside myself and Sir Keenan should ever have known. But — ‘
‘But?’
‘But your story,’ Kyle suddenly blurted, ‘has already outstripped us! I’ve been keeping a record of your time-scale and you’ve just been telling me about the coming Wednesday, two days from now. According to you, Thibor Ferenczy isn’t yet dead, won’t be until Wednesday night!’
After a moment the other said, ‘I can see how that must appear strange to you, yes. Time is relative, Alec, the same as space. Indeed the two go hand in hand. I’ll go further than that: everything is relative. There is a Grand Scheme to things
Some of that escaped Kyle. For the moment he saw only what he wanted to see. ‘You can read the future? That well?’ His face was a mask of awe. ‘And I thought I had a talent! But to be able to see the future so clearly is almost unbe-‘ and he stopped short and gasped. As if
things weren’t incredible enough, a new, even more incredible thought had crossed his mind.
Perhaps his visitor saw it written in his face. At any rate he smiled a smile transparent as smoke from a cigarette, a smile that reflected not at all the light from the window but allowed it to pass right through. ‘Is there something, Alec?’ he asked.
‘Where… where are you?’ Kyle asked. ‘I mean, where are you — the real, physical you — right now? Where are you speaking from? Or rather, when are you speaking from?’
Time is relative,’ the spectre said again, still smiling.
‘You’re speaking to me from the future, aren’t you?’ Kyle breathed. It was the only answer. It was the only way the spectre could know all of this, the only way he could do all of this.
‘You’ll be very useful to me,’ said the other, slowly nodding. ‘It seems you have a sharp intuitive ability to match your precognition, Alec Kyle. Or maybe it’s all part of the same talent. But now, shall we continue?’
Still gaping, Kyle again took up the pencil. ‘I think you better had continue,’ he whispered. ‘You’d better tell me all of it, right to the end…’
Chapter Fifteen
Moscow, Friday evening, Dragosani’s flat on the Pushkin Road.
It was growing dark by the time Dragosani gratefully let himself into his flat and poured himself a drink. The trains had been maddeningly slow on the journey from Romania, and Max Batu’s absence had made the return trip seem that much longer. Batu’s absence, yes, and Dragosani’s growing feeling of urgency, this sensation of being rushed towards some colossal confrontation. Time was quickly passing and still there remained so much for him to do. Achingly tired, still he couldn’t rest. Some instinct urged him onward, warned him against pausing in his set course.
With a second drink inside him and beginning to feel a little better, he telephoned the Chateau Bronnitsy and checked that Borowitz was still in mourning at his dacha at Zhukovka. Then he asked to speak to Igor Vlady but Vlady had already left for home. Dragosani phoned him there, asked if he could come round. The other agreed at once.
Vlady lived in his own state flatlet not too far away but Dragosani took his car anyway; in less than ten minutes he was seated in Vlady’s tiny living-room, toying with a welcoming glass of vodka.
‘Well, Comrade?’ Vlady finally asked when they’d done with the usual formalities and preliminaries. ‘What can I do for you?’ He peered curiously, almost speculatively at Dragosani’s dark glasses and gaunt grey features.
Dragosani nodded, as if he silently confirmed something or other, and said: ‘I can see you’ve been expecting me.’
‘Yes, I thought I might be seeing you,’ Vlady carefully answered.
Dragosani decided against beating about the bush. If Vlady failed to produce the right answers he would simply kill him. He probably would anyway, eventually. ‘Very well, I’m here,’ he said. ‘Now tell me: how’s it going to be?’
Vlady was a small dark man and normally open as a book. That was the impression he achieved, anyway. Now he raised an eyebrow, put on an expression of mild surprise. ‘How’s what going to be?’ he asked, innocently.
‘Look, let’s not fool around,’ said Dragosani. ‘You probably already know exactly why I’ve come here. That’s what you’re paid for: your ability to see things in advance. So I’ll ask you again: how is it going to be?’
Vlady drew back, scowled. ‘With Borowitz, you mean?’
‘For starters, yes.’
Vlady’s face grew strangely impassive, almost cold. ‘He’ll die,’ he said, without emotion. ‘Tomorrow, at midday or thereabouts. A heart attack. Except — ‘ and he paused and frowned.
‘Except?’
Vlady shrugged. ‘A heart attack,’ he repeated.
Dragosani nodded, sighed, relaxed a little. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘that’s how it will be. And what about me — and you?’
‘I don’t do readings for myself,’ said Vlady. ‘It’s tempting, of course, but far too frustrating. To know the future and not be able to change it. Also, it’s frightening. As for you… that’s a bit odd.’
Dragosani didn’t like the sound of that. He put down his drink and leaned forward. ‘What’s odd?’ he asked. This might be very important to him.
Vlady took up both of their glasses and poured more vodka. ‘First let’s get something straight, you and I,’ he said. ‘Comrade, I’m not your rival. I have no ambitions
in respect of E-Branch. None at all. I know Borowitz had me in mind for the job — along with yourself — but I’m just not interes
ted. I think you should know that.’
‘You mean you’ll step aside for me?’
Tm not stepping aside for anyone,’ the other shook his head. ‘I just don’t want the job, that’s all. I don’t envy any man that job. Yuri Andropov won’t rest until he’s crushed the lot of us — even if it takes the rest of his lifetime! Frankly, I wish to hell I was out of it altogether. Did you know I was a trained architect, Dragosani? Well, I am. Read the future? I’d far prefer to read the plans of great buildings any day.’
‘Why do you tell me this?’ Dragosani was curious. ‘It has nothing to do with anything.’
‘Yes it has. It has something to do with living. And I want to live. You see, Dragosani, I know that you will have something to do with Borowitz’s death. With his “heart attack”. And if you can tackle him and win, which you will, then what chance would I have? I’m not brave, Dragosani, and I’m not stupid. E-Branch is all yours…’
Again Dragosani leaned forward. His eyes were pricks of red light gleaming through the dark lenses of his spectacles. ‘But your job is to tell Borowitz this sort of thing, Igor,’ he rasped. ‘Especially — this sort of thing. Are you saying you haven’t told him? Or does he in fact already know that I’ll be… involved?’
Vlady shook himself, sat up straighter. For a moment he’d felt almost hypnotised by Dragosani. The man’s gaze was like that of a snake. A wolf? Something not quite human, anyway. ‘I really don’t know why I’ve told you any of this,’ he finally said. ‘I mean, for all I know the old warhorse might even have sent you here!’
‘But wouldn’t you know it if he had?’ said Dragosani. ‘Isn’t that something your talent would have foreseen?’
‘I can’t see everything!’ Vlady snapped.
Dragosani nodded. ‘Hmm! Well, he didn’t send me.
Now tell me “truthfully: does he know he’s going to die tomorrow? And if so, does he know that I’ll be involved? Well, I’m waiting…’
Vlady bit his lip, shook his head. ‘He doesn’t know,’ he mumbled.
‘Why haven’t you told him?’
Two reasons. First, it wouldn’t change anything even if he did know. Second, I hate the old bastard! I have a fiancée and want to be married. I’ve wanted it for ten years. But Borowitz says no. He needs me to keep my wits sharp. He doesn’t want my talent dulled. Too much sex might ruin me, he says! Damn the old bastard — he rations me with my own fiancée!’
Dragosani sat back and laughed out loud. Vlady saw the gape of his mouth and the length of his teeth and once more felt that he talked with some strange animal rather than a man. ‘Oh, I can believe that!’ Dragosani’s laughter finally rumbled into silence. ‘Yes, that’s just typical of him. Well, Igor,’ he nodded knowingly, ‘I think you can now safely go ahead with your wedding arrangements. Yes, just as soon as you like.’
‘But you’ll want to keep me in the branch, eh?’ Vlady’s tone remained sour.
‘Of course I will,’ Dragosani nodded. ‘You’re much too valuable to be a simple architect, Igor Vlady — and far too talented! But the branch? That is merely a beginning. There’s more to life than that. After this is over I’m going on and up. And you can come with me.’
Vlady’s response to that was a blank stare. Suddenly Dragosani was sure he was hiding something. ‘You were going to tell me what you’ve read in my future,’ he reminded. ‘Now that we’ve dealt with Borowitz, I think that would be a good idea. I think you said there was something… odd?’
‘Odd, yes,’ Vlady agreed. ‘But of course I could be wrong. Anyway, you’ll know all about it — tomorrow.’
And he gave a nervous twitch at Dragosani’s startled expression.
‘What? What’s that about tomorrow?’ the necromancer came slowly to his feet, uncoiling from his chair. ‘Have you been wasting my time and confusing me with trivialities when all the time you knew there was something in store for me tomorrow? When, tomorrow? And where?’
Tomorrow night — at the Chateau,’ said Vlady. ‘Some thing big, but I don’t know what it will be.’
Dragosani began to pace the floor, searched his own mind for clues. ‘KGB? Is it likely they’ll find Borowitz’s body that fast? I doubt it. Even if they did, why should they suspect the branch? Or me? After all, it will only have been a “heart attack”. That could happen to anyone. Or is it someone inside the branch itself? Maybe you, Igor, having second thoughts about your loyalties?’ (Vlady hastily shook his head in denial.) ‘Will it be sabotage?’ Dragosani continued to pace. ‘And if so what form of sabotage?’ He angrily shook his head. ‘No, no, I can’t see that! Damn it, come on, Igor you know more than you’re saying! What is it, exactly, that you’ve seen?’
‘You don’t seem to understand!’ Vlady shouted. ‘Man, I’m not superhuman. I can’t be exact all the time!’ It was true and Dragosani knew it; Vlady’s voice betrayed his own exasperation; he, too, wished he had an answer. ‘Sometimes things are very vague — like that time when Andrei Ustinov got his. I knew there would be a ruckus that night and warned Borowitz about it, but I couldn’t for the life of me say who or what would be involved! It’s the same this time, too. There’ll be big trouble tomorrow and you’ll be right in the middle of it. It will come from outside and it will be… big trouble! Of that much I’m certain, but that’s all.’
‘Not quite all,’ said Dragosani, ominously. ‘I still don’t know what you meant by “odd”. Why do you avoid the issue? Will I be in any danger?’
‘Yes,’ said Vlady, ‘a great deal of danger. And not just you but everyone at the Chateau.’
‘Damn it, man!’ Dragosani slammed his fist down on the table. ‘You make it sound like we’ll all be dead men!’
Vlady’s face slowly lost some of its dark colour. He half turned his face away but Dragosani leaned over him, clasped his cheeks in the fingers of one great hand, drew his averted face and the O-shape of his quivering mouth back towards him. He looked deep into the other’s frightened eyes. ‘Are you quite sure you’ve told me everything?’ he asked, forming his words slowly and very carefully. ‘Can you not at least try to explain what you meant by your use of the word “odd”? Is there a chance, perhaps, that you’ve also foreseen my death for tomorrow?’
Vlady jerked his face free and pushed back in his chair away from Dragosani. The white pressure marks of the other’s fingers faded on his cheeks, were replaced by a dark pink flush. Dragosani was capable of murder beyond a doubt. Vlady must at least try to satisfy his demands. ‘Listen,’ he said, ‘and I’ll explain as best I can. After that… you must make what you will of it.
‘When I look at a man — when I try to see into his future — I normally detect a straight blue line extending forward. Like a line drawn down a sheet of paper from top to bottom. Call it his line of life, if you wish. From the length of this line I can work out the length of the man’s life. From kinks and deviations which occur in it, I can determine something of future occurrences and how they will affect him. Borowitz’s line ends tomorrow. At the end there is a kink which indicates a physical malfunction: his heart attack. As to how I know you will be involved: it is simply that at the end your life-line crosses his — and goes on alone!’
‘But for how long?’ Dragosani demanded to know.
‘What about tomorrow night, Igor? Is that where my line ends?’
Vlady shivered. ‘Your line is entirely different,’ he finally answered. ‘I hardly know how to read it at all. Some six months ago Borowitz demanded that I prepare weekly readings on you for his eyes only. I tried but… it was impossible. There were so many deviations in your line that I couldn’t read it with any degree of accuracy at all! Kinks and wriggles I’d never come across before. Also, as the months passed, what had started out as one line began to divide, to split into two parallel lines. The new one wasn’t blue but red, which was something else I had never seen before. As for the old, original line: it too slowly turned red. You are like… like twins, Dragosani. I know no other way to put it. An
d tomorrow — ‘
‘Yes?’
Tomorrow night one of your lines terminates…’
Half of me will die! thought Dragosani. But which half? Out loud he asked, ‘The red or the blue?’
‘The red line terminates,’ said Vlady.
The vampire — dead! Dragosani’s spirits soared but he controlled the laughter he felt welling inside. ‘What of the other line?’
Vlady shook his head, patently at a loss for any reasonable explanation. Finally he said, ‘That is the oddest thing of all. It’s something I simply cannot explain. The other line loses its red tinge and forms a loop, bends back on itself, rejoins the other where the division first occurred!’
Dragosani sat down again and took up his drink. What Vlady had given him wasn’t satisfactory but it was better than nothing. ‘I’ve been hard on you, Igor,’ he said, ‘and I’m sorry for that. I can see you’ve tried to do your best for me and I thank you. But you’ve said that this thing tomorrow will be big, which tells me that you’ve probably
done readings for the others who’ll be at the Chateau. So now I want to know just how big it will be?’
Vlady bit his lip. ‘You won’t like the answer, Comrade,’ he warned at last.
Tell me anyway.’
‘It will be very nearly total! A force — a power — will visit itself upon the Chateau Bronnitsy, and it will bring devastation.’
Keogh! It could only be Harry Keogh! No other threat existed … Dragosani stood up, grabbed his coat, headed for the door. ‘I have to go now, Igor,’ he said. ‘But again I thank you. I won’t forget what you’ve done for me tonight, believe me. And if you should see anything new, I’d be obliged if-‘