Brian Lumley - Necroscope II - Wamphyri!

Dolgikh frowned. ‘They've destroyed something, you say? And they'll do it again? What sort of something?'

‘If you had been in time to follow them into the Romanian hills, you'd probably have seen for yourself. But don't worry about it. Let it suffice that this time they mustn't succeed.'

As Gerenko finished speaking his telephone rang. He lifted it to his ear — and his expression at once became wary, alert. ‘Comrade Krakovitch!' he said. ‘I was begin-fling to worry about you. I had expected to hear from you before now. Are you in Chernovtsy?' He looked pointedly across his desk at Dolgikh.

Even from where he sat, Dolgikh could hear the angry, tinny clatter of Krakovitch's distant voice. Gerenko began to blink rapidly and a nervous tic jerked the corner of his mouth.

Finally, when Krakovitch was finished, he said, ‘Listen, Comrade. Ignore that stupid frontier guard. He isn't worth losing your temper over. Just stay exactly where you are and in a few minutes I shall have full authorisation phoned through. But first let me speak to that idiot.'

He waited a moment, until he heard the slightly tremulous, inquiring voice of the border official, and then very quietly said, ‘Listen. Do you recognise my voice? Good! In approximately ten minutes I shall phone again and tell you I am the commissioner for Frontier Control in Moscow. Ensure that you and you alone answer the phone, and that you can't be overheard. I will order you to let comrade Krakovitch and his friends through, and you will do so. Do you understand?'

‘Oh, yes, Comrade!'

‘If Krakovitch should ask you what I have just said, tell him I was shouting at you and calling you a fool.'

‘Yes, of course, Comrade.'

‘Good!' Gerenko put the phone down. He looked at Dolgikh. ‘As I was saying, I couldn't hold them up forever. Already this affair is growing clumsy, becoming embarrassing. But even though they'll now go through to Chernovtsy, they can do nothing tonight. And tomorrow you'll be there to stop them doing anything.'

Dolgikh nodded. ‘Do you have any suggestions?'

‘In what respect?'

‘About how it should be done? If Krakovitch is a traitor, it seems to me that the easiest way of dealing with this would be —'

‘No!' Gerenko cut him off. ‘That would be hard to prove. And he has the ear of the Party Leader, remember? We must never leave ourselves open to question in this matter.' He tapped a finger on his desk, gave the problem a moment's thought. ‘Ah! I think I may have it. I have called Krakovitch a dupe — so let it appear. Let Carl Quint be the guilty party! Arrange it so that he can be blamed. Let it be seen that the British espers came into Russia to discover what they could of E-Branch, and to kill its head. Why not? They've damaged the branch before, haven't they? But on this occasion Quint will err and become a fatality of his own strategy.'

‘Good!' said Dolgikh. ‘I'm sure I'll work something out along those lines. And — of course I'll be the only witness.

Light footsteps sounded and Zek Foener appeared on the office threshold. She merely glanced coldly at Dolgikh, then fixed her gaze on Gerenko. ‘Kyle is a goldmine — the sane part of him, anyway! There is nothing he doesn't know, and he's releasing it in a flood. He even knows a

good many — too many — things about us. Things I didn't know. Fantastic things…‘ Suddenly she looked tired.

Gerenko nodded. ‘Fantastic things? I had supposed that they would be. Is that why you think he's partly insane? That his mind is playing him tricks? Believe me, it isn't! Do you know what they destroyed in Romania?'

She nodded. ‘Yes, but… it's hard to believe. I —'

Gerenko held up a warning hand. She understood, felt caution emanating from him. Theo Dolgikh was not to know. Like most of the other espers at the Château, Foener hated the KGB. She nodded, and kept her silence.

Gerenko spoke again. ‘And is it the same sort of thing that lies hidden in the mountains beyond Chernovtsy?'

Again she nodded.

‘Very well.' Gerenko smiled without emotion. ‘And now, my dear, you must return to your work. Give it total priority.'

‘Of course,' she answered. ‘I only came away while they were dosing him again. And because I need a break from…‘ She shook her head dazedly. Her eyes were wide, bright with strange new knowledge. ‘Comrade, this thing is utterly —‘

Again Gerenko held up his child's hand in warning. ‘I know.'

She nodded, turned and left, her footsteps a little uncertain on the descending stone stairs.

‘What was all that about?' Dolgikh was mystified.

‘That was the joint death certificate of Krakovitch, Gulharov and Quint,' Gerenko answered. ‘Actually, Quint was the only one who might have been useful — but no longer. Now you can get on your way. Is the branch helicopter ready for you?'

Dolgikh nodded. He began to stand up, then frowned and said, ‘First tell me, what will happen to Kyle when you are finished with him? I mean, I'll take care of that

other pair of traitors, and the British esper, Quint, but what of Kyle? What will become of him?'

Gerenko raised his eyebrows. ‘I thought that was obvious. When we have what we want, everything we want, then we'll dump him in the British zone in Berlin. There he'll simply die, and their best doctors won't know why.'

‘But why will he die? And what of that drug you're pumping into him? Surely their doctors will pick up traces?'

Gerenko shook his walnut head. ‘It leaves no trace. It completely voids itself in a few hours. That is why we have to keep dosing him. A clever lot, our Bulgarian friends. He's not the first one we've drained in this fashion, and the results have always been the same. As to why he will die: he will have no incentive for life. Less than a cabbage, he will not retain sufficient knowledge or instinct even to move his body. There will be no control — none! His vital organs will not function. He might survive longer on a life-support machine, but…‘ And he shrugged.

‘Brain-death.' Dolgikh nodded and grinned.

‘But there you have it in a nutshell.' Gerenko emotionlessly clapped his child's hands. ‘Bravo! For what is an entirely empty brain if not dead, eh? And now, if you'll excuse me, I have a telephone call to make.'

Dolgikh stood up. ‘I'll be on my way,' he said. Already he was looking forward to the task in hand.

‘Theo,' said Gerenko. ‘Krakovitch and his friends — they should be killed with despatch. Don't linger over it. And one last thing: do not be too curious about what they are trying to do up there in the mountains. Do not concern yourself with it. Believe me, too much curiosity could be very, very dangerous!'

In answer to which Dolgikh could only nod. Then he turned and left the room.

*

As their car drew away from the checkpoint towards Chernovtsy, Quint might have expected Krakovitch to carry on raging. But he didn't. Instead the head of the Soviet E-Branch was quiet and thoughtful, and even more so after Gulharov quickly told him about the disconnected cable.

‘There are several things I not liking here,' Krakovitch told Quint in a little while. ‘At first I am thinking that fat man back there is simply stupid, but now not being so sure. And this business with the electricity — all very strange. Sergei finds and fixes that which they could not — and he does it quickly and without difficulty. Which would seem to make our fat friend at the checkpoint not only stupid but incompetent!'

‘You think we were deliberately delayed?' Quint felt an uneasy, dark oppressiveness settling all around him, like a positive weight on his head and shoulders.

‘That telephone call he got just now,' Krakovitch mused. ‘The Commissioner for Frontier Control, in Moscow? I never heard of him! But I suppose he must exist. Or must he? One commissioner, controlling all of the thousands of crossing points into the Soviet Union? So, I assume he exists. Which is meaning that Ivan Gerenko got in touch with him, in the dead of night, and that he then personally called up this little fat official in his stupid sentry-box of a control hut — all in ten minutes!'