Brian Lumley - Necroscope - Invaders

'No,' Liz interrupted him. Tm sorry, but we're especially interested in mountains. On the way back, it would suit us just fine if you'd show us some mountains that we haven't seen yet.' And then, perhaps a little selfconsciously, 'Er, sorry to be a nuisance.'

The pilot glanced back though his window, looked from face to face, shrugged his shoulders and said, 'Suit yerself, Miss, fellers. I'm to accommodate yer as best I can, so whatever yer say is okay with me.'

At which Liz craned her neck and looked for confirmation from David Chung where he sat behind her… only to find that the locator's attention, indeed his concentration, seemed rapt on something that no one else could see. With his jaw hanging slack, he gazed as if transfixed eastward, out across the open sea. It lasted for a single moment only, then Chung started as he became aware of Liz's eyes upon him, the unspoken question that was written in them.

His gaze met hers and he half-nodded, half-shrugged, then said, 'I… I don't know. I can't be sure. It was so faint.'

They were settling fast towards a small airport. The locator snapped out of it, put his headset on, and asked the pilot, 'What's out there? I mean east, er, the sea?'

'Exactly, mate,' the other's tinny voice came back, seeming to vibrate as the pitch of the rotor vanes changed to landing mode. 'The sea, a handful o' little rocks, and stretching a thousand miles to the north, the Great Barrier Reef And then a laugh. 'Sorry, but all that's way out o' our itinerary…'

They freshened up, drank ice-cold beer out of glasses dripping with condensation, ate prawn sandwiches and barbecued chicken, and talked while they waited for their pilot to call for them.

They were in a private Skytours suite that overlooked the small airport through a soundproof panoramic window. While eating they had watched a handful of planes coming and going, not said too much, been glad of the overhead fan that struggled to waft a stream of warm, sluggish air around the room.

But eventually curiosity had got the better of the military men. Liz was aware of it but didn't find it intrusive, and anyway they were all members of a loose-knit team.

And the fact was that apart from Trask's briefings — and that these men had been ordered to accept all Branch members as voices of authority here — there hadn't been and could never be a great deal of understanding of E-Branch's role. Not to disparage the military, but it would have proved extremely difficult for entirely

military minds to grasp the concepts, motivations, and operating practices of an ESP-oriented intelligence agency. And, indeed, they weren't required to. But now, here in the intimacy of a much smaller grouping, these young soldiers had been presented with an opportunity to dig just a little deeper.

On the other hand and on behalf of E-Branch, both Liz and Chung were sworn to a modified version of the Official Secrets Act, and so had to be be circumspect in what they revealed.

'You're a psychic, right?' one of the Warrant Officers, a slim, well-muscled, crew-cut redhead in his early thirties asked of David Chung. 'I mean, don't take offence, but isn't it a bit strange, using — what do you call it? Parapsychology? — against bloody awful things such as that nest we burned out in the desert?'

'No offence taken,' said Chung. 'But you'd do well to remember that I'm the one who found those bloody things out in the desert! And I've been dealing with such things on and off— but mercifully more off than on — for some twenty years. Currently, however, we're definitely on again, and like,most of the others in E-Branch I'm getting past my sell-by date. Oh, we're recruiting young blood all right, such as Liz here, but the years take their toll. So on a job like this we're obliged to call in different kinds of "experts". We like to be sure there's plenty of muscle behind the mind.'

'Like us?' said the other.

And Chung nodded, smiled, raised an eyebrow and said, 'No offence?'

'But a psychic? I mean, how can you simply think the location of these creatures? Like, you read their thoughts or something?'

And though he was polite up front in his talking to Chung, Liz couldn't help reading that he was more than a little sceptical. She read one or two other things, too, such as: Never kid a kidder, Mr Chinaman. Old Red isn't buying it! Red: a nickname no one had used since his teens, and one which he wouldn't accept from anyone else despite that it fitted him so well and was how he continued to think of himself.

So before Chung could answer Liz told herself to hell with the rules and said: 'Whether you're buying it or not, my friend Mr Chung here — who is in fact a fourth-generation Brit, despite that his roots are oriental — isn't kidding, Red!'

The young soldier jerked in his seat, instinctively touched a hand to his crew-cut, and stuttered: 'Er, my hair, right?'

But Liz shook her head. 'Your thoughts/ she replied. 'And Red, the next time I walk into a place ahead of you, please try to remember I can't help how I walk, and find somewhere else to look… okay?'

Fuck me!!! thought the other.

And Liz said, 'No, thanks. I'm spoken for.'

'J-Jesus, I'm s-s-sorry!' the other gasped.

'It's okay/ Liz told him. 'But maybe we should change the subject now? And yes, you're safe: I promise not to peek.'

'What's going on?' asked the other soldier, genuinely puzzled.

'Nothing much/ Liz told him. 'I was reading your friend's thoughts, that's all. Yours, too, if you like.'

'Oh, really?' The second W.O. was older and less inquisitive. But he did have something on his mind.

'In the chopper/ Liz said, 'just as we were landing. You were wondering what was wrong with David. Like me, you noticed the way he was looking out over the sea, his expression.'

'You saw that?' the W.O. said.

'No/ said Liz, 'I overheard it, "Joe" — in your head/

And Joe accepted that she had, because they had only ever been introduced as Warrant Officers Bygraves and Davis!

'Let me have one of your maps/ Chung said, deciding that Liz had gone far enough. 'This area, and small-scale. Covering as much ground as possible/

'Red' Bygraves spread a map on the table, and Chung began poring over it. While he searched he explained:

'I'm a kind of bloodhound. It's nothing weird/ (though in

fact it was) 'just a knack, sort of instinctive. But sometimes I can sense where these things are hanging out. In the helicopter, I got a feeling that there just might be something… out there!'

He stabbed his index finger at the map, their current location, then drew it in a straight line east and a little north. 'In that direction, anyway. And you know, it's still there, but so very faint…' Chung shook his head, narrowed his eyes in a frown. 'What we could use, really, is a little triangulation/

'Now that I understand/ said Red. 'Let me see the map/

They let him jostle into position, watched him point out a location: Sandy Cape on the northern tip of Fraser Island. And: 'We can't ask the pilot to fly us east and out to sea/ he went on, 'because that will add air miles and run him low on fuel to get us back to Brisbane. But there's no reason why he can't fly us over Fraser Island, which lies south of here. He did suggest a coastal route, right?'

'Good!' said Chung. 'And as soon as we get over the northern tip of the island, I can — well, do my thing, take a bearing north — and see if we come up with something/.

Red looked at Liz. 'And you'll do what? Or does this part include you out?'

Now Liz saw the error of saying anything at all. But since it was too late now:

'If David senses anything, I'll try to, well, hitch a ride on his probe/ she said. 'But since this looks like a long-distance thing, I really can't be sure 111 get a reading/