Brian Lumley - Necroscope - Invaders

The dead in their graves were talking about him, and Jake could hear them like the buzzing of bees in a clover field, or more properly the rustle of dry leaves on a wintry garden path. For bees and flowering clover are redolent of burgeoning life, while the rustle of fallen leaves… isn't.

All of the voices belonged to strangers; he didn't know — or hadn't known — a single one of them. And while it was quite obvious that they heard him, no one bothered to answer Jake on the few occasions when he felt galvanized to break in on their conversation; but his brief bursts of eager questioning invariably found long-drawn-out silences following in their wake.

And the worst of it was that these voices seemed afraid to talk out loud: they whispered, so that he found it difficult to follow what they were saying. But they seemed to be arguing the pros and cons, Jake's merits against his drawbacks, to what end he couldn't rightly say.

We don't — we daren't — let them in among us! one of the voices said quite clearly. While another mumbled:

But he isn't one of them. See, his light hums like a lantern in the dark, and we feel its warmth. Only the Necroscope — only Harry Keogh and his sons were ever like this — beacons in our everlasting night, or places to warm ourselves in the presence of the living; our only contact with the world and all the loved ones we left hehind.

And another voice said, But in the end even the Necroscope succumbed. Is that what you would have us doP Befriend this one and give him access to the deadPAndifhe, too, were seduced — what then? A vampire in our midst, and. one who knows our every thought and secret? But the difference between a Necroscope and a necromancer… 15 vast.

Andmonstrous! said yet another, whose voice shuddered. We can't risk giving such a gift to anyone who would misuse it.

But he already has the gift! said the voice, or its owner, who spoke in Jake's defence. And given to him by Harry himself, if we can believe what she has said.

Ah, but she's not long cold. Naive in the ways of the long night, what can she know?

She knew Harry,

And what good did that do herp Like so many others before her, and like Harry himself, she too became a victim. No, she's no guarantee. And as for Harry: don't speak of him. The teeming dead know all about him.

But Harry never harmed us! He was our friend and champion, right to… to the end. But here the defending voice grew very quiet and uncertain.

And what an end, said another small voice, when the Necroscope must Jlee his own world in order to keep faith!

She was the last of the living who Harry spoke to, the one who was unafraid came back. She says he made promises — and he kept them.

True, said another, more doleful voice. But Harry isolated himself for the sake of the living, not for the dead.

I say we should trust the woman, the other insisted.

No, said the doleful one. For in the end she brought down a DOOM upon herself. Why, she was fortunate that she only died! And now— if we trust this one on her word — perhaps she will bring a DOOM on all of us.

At which point:

'Zek?' Jake tried again to cut in. 'Is it Zek you're talking about? Zek Foener?'

And again a long, cold silence. Until out of nowhere:

I presented your case, Jake, and now we must let them talk it through. (Zek's voice, which he recognized at once.)

'Talk what through? I'm not with you.'

If the Great Majority, the teeming dead, decide that they don't want you to have or to use deadspeak, Zek explained, then you can talk all you like and they won't listen. They'll simply ignore you. Oh, they're drawn to you — we're all drawn to your warmth, Jake — but at the same time they're afraid of you. They were afraid of Nathan, too, once upon a time, but Nathan proved himself, showed them they were mistaken. If he was here now… well, he could far better plead your case than I can.

'And what about Harry?' Jake said. 'Where is he? Couldn't the Necroscope, er, "plead my case" — whatever that's supposed to mean — even better?'

Nof any longer, Zek answered.

'He did something to upset them?'

Something… happened to him, she answered carefully.

'So/ Jake tried to reason it out, 'Harry is dead, but the Great Majority won't have any truck with him. Yet you get along okay with him, and that thing in the sump was positively clinging to him. All very weird.'

IfE-Branch, or Harry himself, had wanted you to know certain things, then I'm sure they would have told you, said Zek.

But Jake was still puzzling it out. 'Trask, lan Goodly and Lardis — yes, and Liz, too — they've all had a go at hinting at something without being specific. They seem concerned that once I know the whole thing, or when I can see the big picture, then I'll run from it. But surely it would have to be something terrible to scare the Great Majority, who have absolutely nothing to lose! Yet even the dead won't spit it out up front. They speak in whispers, as if afraid to even talk about it. Not only that but Harry Keogh, a once-powerful metaphysical mind, is now an outcast among his own kind. So what in hell did he do…?'

Jake sensed that he must be close now. But so did Zek, who was anxious to divert him. And:

Jake, she cut in, you'll have an explanation. All of this will be explained eventually — or you'll work it out for yourself— but for now let it go, and let the teeming dead deliberate. The wisdom of the ages is down in the earth, Jake. I can't see that they'll make a mistake on your account, know they'll let you in… eventually.p>

'Huh!' he snorted. 'In a way they're just like Trask; even like you, Zek! Everyone seems to think I should want to be "in" — that I should consider it a privilege — but all of these E-Branch types will tell you their talents are a curse. So why is it different for me? Why should I accept a curse? And just what sort of a curse is it, anyway? I mean, that is what this is all about, isn't it? The stuff that Trask isn't telling me? The bottom line? The downside?'

Then for a while there was silence in the psychic aether, until Zek said, I can't ask you to trust me, can't promise you anything, for the dangers are enormous. But one thing is certain: you can be the new Necroscope. You are the Necroscope, if only you'll accept it.

'I would accept it,' he told her then. 'I have accepted it in a way. For how can I deny what is? But if there's a short cut to my — well, to my being — then why can't I take it now? And as for the drawbacks… surely it's my right to know what they are? I mean, what's the big mystery?'

Jake, Zek answered, Harry Keogh was born with his skills, or with some of them at least, but you've had them thrust upon you. What came naturally to Harry is coming unnaturally to you. But some things are so unnatural— and the very possibility of others is so frightening — as to make deadspeak and the Mobius Continuum seem mundane by comparison.

'Now, if that was intended to give me confidence—' Jake started to say, only to be cut off as Zek broke in:

Personally, you wouldn't have been my choice. (He sensed the sad, reluctant shake of an incorporeal head.) But you were Harry Keogh's choice, which has to be good enough, for he must have had good reasons. And now there are others I have to talk to, others to convince — on your behalf, yes — on the far side of the world. Before I go, however, it seems only fair to tell you: you're not making it easy, Jake…

'That seems to be one of my big problems—' he started to say, then realized that she was gone.

But I am here, Jake, always, said another voice, phlegmy, lustful and darkly sinister, close and even too close to hand. The voice of Korath Mindsthrall, fading to a distant, bubbling chuckle.

And in a little while, coming to Jake as if from far, far away, the whispering of the teeming dead started up again. But it was now more fearful than ever…