Brian Lumley - Necroscope - Invaders

'Nathan suggested returning to Sunside for Anna-Marie English, but to what purpose? The invaders were leaving no "blight" behind them. As yet, they weren't vampirizing anyone. Murders? But there are always murders, and there are always missing persons. No, we couldn't hope to track them that way. In any case, Anna-Marie wouldn't have come back; she has dedicated her life to the orphans of the bloodwars, and to her man in Sunside.

'The mindsmog thing puzzled us a while: the lack of it. For where there are vampires, and especially Lords of the Wamphyri, there is usually mindsmog: a tainted, impenetrable cloud on the psychic aether… unless that was something else that Malinari had stolen from Zek's mind? But of course it was! He had also been about to learn something of E-Branch from her — until she had deliberately shortened his interrogation by showing him his intended doom, which had precipitated and mercifully shortened her own.

'But just how much did he know? How much had he sapped from Zek's mind, her memory, her knowledge in general and especially of the Branch? We had no way of knowing. But it must have been sufficient that he and the others felt the need to lie low and control their alien mental emissions. Or perhaps we were wrong and they were simply being cautious, biding their time.

'Nathan stayed with us for five days, just long enough to look up a few old… well, acquaintances? But he was needed in Sunside

and dared not delay any longer. And remember, his problem was as great if not greater than ours: a small army of aspiring Lords lieutenants, thralls, and warrior creatures, left behind by our trio of Wamphyri invaders; an army which now inhabited the toppled ruins of Starside's ancient aeries, from which they raided on the Szgany as before. No, we had no claim on Nathan; indeed, our long-term debt to him could never be repaid. And so we had to let him go, with our best wishes — and as many weapons as he could take with him — back along the Mobius route to rejoin the battle for his vampire world.

'And through all of that time, that terrible, frantic week, the only one of us who wasn't busy was Ben Trask. He had simply withdrawn from a world that would never be the same again, and I admit that I thought E-Branch had seen the last of him. Fortunately I was wrong, and when he returned he was stronger than ever — well, in some ways — but in his resolve, for sure.

'And now I'll tell you something that even he doesn't know. I was Duty Officer that night at E-Branch HQ — that night when Nathan brought Lardis through from Sunside, and Ben nightmared about Zek — and the moment that Ben came in and I saw the state he was in, I… I knew about Zek. I mean, I knew!

'Oh, I couldn't tell him, but where he was uncertain and daren't allow himself to be sure, I knew and hated myself for knowing. Just seeing him like that, Ben's future was immediately apparent to me. In one way it was the clearest picture of anyone's future that I'd even seen, yet in another it was the vaguest — which was how I knew.

'For all I saw was how cold and lonely that future would be…'

Goodly's delivery, the way he had told the story of the events of that night at E-Branch HQ from his own personal viewpoint — the obvious passion and compassion in this apparently reserved, indeed phlegmatic man — had brought him into far greater definition in Jake's perception; or rather, it had brought him into focus as a three-dimensional character in his own right. Previously a shadow or a soft-voiced cipher, he had somehow filled out. And Jake understood now that the precog had been a major part of this scene for a very long time.

Now, too, and also for the first time, Goodly's physical person had impressed itself upon the Branch's most recent however hesitant recruit. lan Goodly: all of six feet four inches tall, skeletally thin and gangly, grey-haired and mainly gaunt-featured. His expression was usually grave; he rarely smiled; only his eyes

— warm, brown, and totally disarming — belied what invariably constituted an unfortunate first-impression appearance, that of a cadaverous mortician. Except, and as Jake was suddenly aware, you can't always tell a book from its cover. He would have done better to take more notice of Goodly's eyes than his outline.

Outside the Ops truck, he cornered the precog and drew him away from the others into the shade of a tree.

'What is it?' Goodly asked, though he believed he already knew well enough. For just like Trask and Lardis Lidesci before him, he'd left several blank pages in his telling of the story. Jake was still fishing for the bits that would bring the whole thing into focus.

'Just you and me/ Jake answered. 'Just the two of us, and no one else to confuse the issue. Would you mind if I ask you a few questions? I mean, right from square one I've had this feeling that you're on my side, that you think I should be told the whole thing. The others are holding stuff back, but you're reluctant to do so. Am I right?'

Goodly smiled a wry smile, sighed and said, Til tell you what I can. But even though you're right about my being on your side

— or rather, about my talent being on your side — still I won't be able to answer all of your questions. The Branch comes first, and Ben Trask is the Branch. What Ben says goes.'

'Some of my questions, then,' Jake pressed. And he quickly went on: 'So you're a precog, right? And this talent of yours, this precognition, it lets you see into the future?'

'That's the general idea,' Goodly sighed again. 'But only a very rough idea, for it's not nearly as simple as that. Haven't I made that plain?' And now he was frowning.

'Okay, fine,' Jake placated him. 'But you did tell me you'd seen some of my future, right? You did say that I'd be with you, with E-Branch, for quite some time to come.'

'That's true, yes,' Goodly answered.

'In what capacity?'

'I don't know.'

'Okay, then is it going to be that way simply because Trask won't let me go off and do my own thing, or…?'

'Possibly because he won't let you go,' the precog answered. 'He has to see how you work out, which could take a while. That could be — it obviously is — part of the reason why I've foreseen your continuing presence, yes. But what is this, Jake? Are you still uncertain? I thought you'd decided to stay?'

'… Or, is it mainly because he thinks I'm going to be useful to you?' Jake ignored Goodly's last.

'Well, that too, we hope. But Jake, you're talking in circles. And I don't see—'

'—I'm getting to it!' Jake growled, his attitude intense now. And after a moment's thought: 'So tell me, is it me, Jake Cutter, who'll be useful to you, or is it this Harry?'

'Er, that was my meaning, yes,' said the precog, 'that the Necroscope would definitely be useful to us. But if you want me to pick and choose, I can't do it. I would have to answer, both of you — you'll both be extremely useful to us. I thought that had been made plain, too.'

'He's… what, contacting me, this Harry? Getting into my head to guide me, is that it?' Jake was pushing it now. 'Or is he simply using me?'

'Using you? Personally, I would say he's keeping you safe. Wouldn't you?'

'But in my head, like telepathy? A kind of telepathic control?' Jake scowled.

'Telepathy?' Goodly seemed uncertain. 'Something like telepathy, yes. But Harry had a different name for it.'

'"Had"? Why is it that when we talk about this Harry everything has to be past tense?' Then Jake gave a snort. 'Huh! Dumb question — because he's dead, of course! — which I can't see at all. For if he's dead, how can he do whatever it is he's doing to me? See, I don't believe in ghosts. They're a concept I just can't seem to wrap my head around. And as for Harry Keogh: he's something I don't want to wrap my head around, even though it's apparent he's already seen to that! But, since he's obviously a disembodied voice out of the past, then it must be equally obvious that his talent was similar to yours. I mean, Harry didn't so much read the future as reach into it… is how it seems to me? But okay, fine, let's keep it going: so if what he's doing to me isn't telepathy, then what did he call it?'