bl.necroscope2-第5章

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　any　brain　for　it　to　relay　its　message　to。　The　eye　melted　back　into　protoflesh；　was　replaced　by　small　jaws　which　clashed　mindlessly。　Then　it　sank　down　again　out　of　sight。
　〃Felix；　get　out　of　there！〃　Gulharov　was　nervous。
　Krakovitch　backed　out　of　the　circle；　Gulharov　struck　a　match；　tossed　it；　in　a　moment　the　cabinet　was　an　inferno。　Like　the　oblong　mouth　of　a　jet　engine　on　test；　the　cabinet　hurled　a　pale　blue　sheet　of　fire　roaring　into　the　cold　air；　a　shimmering　column　of　intense　heat。　And　then　Dragosani　sat　up！
　Gulharov　clutched　Krakovitch；　clung　to　him。　〃Oh　God！　Oh；　mother…he's　alive！〃　he　croaked。
　〃No；〃　Krakovitch　denied；　tearing　himself　free。　〃The　thing　in　him　is　alive；　but　mindless。　It's　all　instinct　with　no　brain　to　govern　it。　It　would　flee　but　doesn't　know　how　to；　or　even　what　it's　fleeing　from。　If　you　spear　a　sea…cucumber　it　reacts；　spills　out　its　guts。　No　mind；　just　reaction。　Look；　look！　It's　melting！〃
　And　indeed　it　seemed　that　Dragosani　was　melting。　Smoke　curled　upward　from　his　blackened　shell；　layers　of　skin　peeled　away；　bursting　into　flame；　the　fats　of　his　body　ran　like　candle　wax；　and　were　consumed　by　the　fire。　The　thing　inside　him　felt　the　heat；　reacted。　Dragosani's　trunk　shuddered；　vibrated；　convulsed。　His　arms　shot　out　straight；　then　fell　to　dangle　over　the　sides　of　the　blazing　cabinet；　where　all　the　while　they　jerked　and　twitched。　His　clothing　was　pletely　burned　away　by　now；　and　as　Krakovitch　and　Gulharov　watched　and　shuddered；　so　his　crisped　flesh　burst　open　here　and　there；　putting　out　frantic；　whipping　tendrils　that　melted　and　slopped　down　into　the　furnace。
　In　a　very　little　while　he　fell　back　and　was　still；　and　the　two　men　stood　in　the　snow　and　watched　the　fire　until　it　burned　itself　out。　It　took　all　of　twenty　minutes；　but　they　stood　there　anyway。。。
　
　3。00　P。M。；　27　August　1977。
　The　big　London　hotel；　within　easy　walking　distance　of　Whitehall；　contained　rather　more　than　its　exterior　might　suggest。　In　fact　the　entire　top　floor　was　given　over　to　a　pany　of　〃international　financial　entrepreneurs〃；　which　was　the　sum　total　of　the　hotel　manager's　knowledge　about　it。　The　pany　had　its　own　elevator　at　the　rear　of　the　building；　private　stairs；　even　its　own　fire　escape。　Indeed　the　pany　owned　the　top　floor；　which　was　therefore　entirely　outside　the　hotel's　sphere　of　control　and　operation。
　In　short；　the　top　floor　was　the　headquarters　of　the　most　secret　of　all　British　secret　services：　namely　INTESP；　the　British　equivalent　of　that　Russian　organisation　housed　just　outside　Moscow　at　the　Chateau　Bronnitsy。　But　the　hotel　was　only　the　headquarters；　there　were　also　two　〃factories〃；　one　in　Dorset　and　the　other　in　Norfolk；　direct…linked　to　each　other　and　to　the　HQ　by　telephone；　radiotelephone　and　puter。　Such　links；　though　top…security　screened；　were　open　to　sophisticated　abuse；　of　course；　a　clever　hacker　might　get　in　one　day。　Hopefully　before　that　happened　the　branch　would　have　developed　its　telepaths　to　such　an　extent　that　all　of　this　technological　junk　would　be　unnecessary。　Radio　waves　travel　at　a　mere　186；000　miles　per　second；　but　human　thought　is　instantaneous　and　carries　a　far　more　vivid　and　finished　picture。
　Such　were　Alec　Kyle's　own　thoughts　as　he　sat　at　his　desk　and　formulated　Security　Standing　Orders　for　the　six　Special　Branch　officers　whose　sole　task　in　life　was　the　personal　security　of　an　infant　boy　just　one　month　old；　a　child　called　Harry　Keogh。　Harry　Jnr…the　future　head　of　INTESP。
　〃Harry；〃　said　Kyle　out　loud；　to　no　one　in　particular；　〃you　can　have　the　job　right　now；　if　you　still　want　it。〃
　No；　came　the　answer　at　once；　startlingly　clear　in　Kyle's　mind。　Not　now；　maybe　not　ever！
　Kyle's　mouth　fell　open　and　he　started　upright　in　his　swivel　chair。　He　knew　what　this　was；　had　known　some…thing　very　much　similar　at　a　time　some　eight　months　ago。
　It　was　telepathy；　yes；　but　it　was　more　than　telepathy。　It　was　the　〃infant〃　he'd　just　been　thinking　about；　the　child　whose　mind　housed　all　that　was　left　of　the　greatest　ESP　talent　in　the　world：　Harry　Keogh。
　〃Christ！〃　Kyle　whispered。　And　now　he　knew　what　it　had　been　about；　〃it〃　being　the　dream　or　nightmare　he'd　had　last　night…when　he'd　been　covered　with　leeches　as　big　as　kittens；　whose　mouths　had　fastened　on　him　to　drain　his　blood；　while　he　had　leaped　and　gibbered　in　a　glade　of　stirless　trees；　until　he'd　been　too　weak　to　fight　any　longer。　Then　he'd　fallen　on　the　earth　amidst　the　pine　needles；　and　the　leeches　had　clung　to　him；　and　he'd　known　that　he　was　being　a　leech！
　And　that；　mercifully；　had　scared　him　wide　awake。　As　for　the　dream's　meaning：　Kyle　had　long　since　given　up　trying　to　read　meanings　into　such　precognitive　glimpses。　That　was　the　trouble　with　them：　they　were　usually　cryptic；　rarely　self…elucidating。　But　certainly　he'd　known　that　the　dream　was　one　of　those　dreams；　and　now　he　guessed　that　this　had　something　to　do　with　it；　too。
　〃Harry？〃　he　breathed　the　query　into　the　suddenly　frigid　atmosphere　of　the　room。　His　breath　actually　plumed　in　the　air；　in　the　space　of　mere　seconds　the　temperature　had　taken　a　plunge。　Just　like　last　time。
　Something　was　forming　in　the　middle　of　the　room；　in　front　of　Kyle's　desk。　The　smoke　of　his　cigarette　trembled　there　and　the　air　seemed　to　waver。　He　got　up；　crossed　quickly　to　the　window　and　adjusted　the　blinds。　The　room　grew　dim；　and　the　figure　in　front　of　his　desk　took　on　more　form。
　Kyle's　inter　buzzed　urgently　and　he　jumped　six　inches。　He　leaped　to　his　desk；　hit　the　receive　button；　and　a　breathless　voice　said；　〃Alec；　there's　something　here！〃　It　was　Carl　Quint；　a　top…rank　psychic　sensitive；　a　〃spotter〃。
　Kyle　pressed　the　send　button；　held　it　down。　〃I　know。
　It's　with　me　now。　But　it's　OK；　I've　been　half…expecting　it。〃　Now　he　pressed　the　mand　button；　spoke　to　the　entire　HQ。　〃Kyle　here。　I　don't　want　to　talk　to　anybody　for…for　as　long　as　it　takes。　No　messages；　no　ining　calls；　and　no　questions。　Listen　in　if　you　like；　but　don't　try　to　interfere。　I'll　get　back　to　you。〃　He　pressed　the　secure　button　on　his　desk　puter　keyboard；　and　door　and　window　locks　audibly　snapped　shut。　And　now　he　and　Harry　Keogh　were　pletely　alone。
　Kyle　forced　himself　to　relax；　stared　at　the…ghost？…of　Keogh　where　it　confronted　him　across　his　desk。　And　he　thought　an　old　thought；　one　which　had　never　been　far　away；　not　since　the　first　day　he'd　e　here　to　work　for　INTESP：
　Funny　bloody　outfit。　Robots　and　romantics。　Super　science　and　the　supernatural。　Telemetry　and　telepathy。　puterised　probability　patterns　and　precognition。　Gadgets。。。　and　ghosts！
　No　ghost；　Alec；　Keogh　answered　with　a　wan；　immaterial　smile。　I　thought　we　went　into　all　of　that　last　time？
　Kyle　thought　about　pinching　himself　but　didn't　bother。　He'd　gone　through　all　of　that　last　time；　too。　〃Last　time？〃　he　spoke　out　loud；　because　that　was　easier　for　him。　〃But　that　was　eight　months　ago；　Harry。　I　had　started　to　think　we'd　never　hear　from　you　again。〃
　Maybe　you　wouldn't　have；　said　the　other；　his　lips　moving　not　at　all；　for　believe　me　I've　plenty　to　keep　me　；　occupied。　But。。。　something's　e　up。
　Kyle's　awe　was　ebbing；　his　pulse　gradually　slowing　to　its　norm。　He　leaned　forward　in　his　chair；　looked　the　other　up　and　down。　Oh；　it　was　Keogh；　all　right。　But　not　exactly　the　same　as　the　last　time。　Last　time　Kyle's　first　thought　had　been　that　the…apparition…was　supernatural。　Not　merely　paranormal　or　ESP…engendered　but　actually　supernatural；　extra…mundane；　not　of　this　world。　Just　like　now；　the　office　scanners　had　failed　to　detect　it；　it　had　e　and　told　K'yle　a　fantastic　true　story；　and　gone　without　leaving　a　trace。　No；　not　quite；　for　he'd　written　down　all　that　had　been　said。　Even　thinking　about　that；　his　wrist　ached。　But　you　couldn't　photograph　the　thing；　couldn't　record　its　voice；　couldn't　harm　or　interfere　with　it　in　any　way。　The　entire　HQ　was　now　listening　in　on　Kyle's　conversation　with　this；　this。。。　with　Harry　Keogh…and　yet　they'd　hear　only　Kyle's　voice。　But　Keogh　was　here：　at　least　the　central　heating's　thermostat　knew　it。　The　heating　had　just　e　on；　turning　itself　up　several　notches　to　pensate　for　the　sudden　drop　in　temperature。　Yes；　and　Carl　Quint　knew　it；　too。
　The　figure　seemed　etched　in　pale　blue　light：　insubstantial　as　a　moonbeam；　less　than　a　puff　of　smoke。　Incorporeal；　yet　there　was