questioned his sanity and pondered the seeming unreality of certain things that had happened and were continuing to happen to him — and fixed his attention on the hobbling old man, who apparently had more than a little authority here. Limping between the flamethrower teams, he appeared to be pointing out areas they had missed in their 'scorched earth' mission.
'Burn here,' Jake heard him growling over the hiss and roar of searing lances of fire. 'And over there, too. Oh, it's charred, I'll grant you that, but charred isn't enough. It must be burned right through. Then, when it's smoke and ashes drifting on the wind… then it's done with. Not before.'
His accent was strange, hard to place: European Mediterranean area, though, definitely. Italy, Sicily, Romania? There was something of a Romance language in it, anyway. But in fact Jake couldn't have been more wrong. Or rather, his conclusion was too 'mundane' in the literary sense of the word.
'Who is he?' he asked Liz. 'The old boy there? Look at him. He reminds me of nothing so much as a bloodhound… the way he stops every now and then to sniff the night air! The only thing
And for a fact the old man might well have been a frontiersman — and was, of sorts — but from a wilder west than any Jake might have imagined.
'You know,' Jake went on, 'I got the impression that there was something of the Romany, something Gypsyish about the vampire, Bruce Trennier? Well, now I have the same kind of feeling about this fellow. Hell, he even jingles when he moves!'
But the oldster had spotted them even as Jake spoke, and he came hobbling in their direction. Ben Trask came, too; probably to make introductions, Jake thought. And meanwhile Liz was answering at least one of his queries:
'You said he reminded you of a bloodhound,' she said. 'And you're just about right. A human bloodhound is exactly what he is. What you've seen tonight, he's seen so many times he can't count them. So I've gathered, anyway. His name is Lardis, sometimes called the Old Lidesci
'Liz,' the old fellow nodded his greeting and smiled a gaptoothed smile… but in the next moment he was frowning, stepping closer, turning his head on one side to look up into Liz's face. Then: 'Huhl'he grunted, spitting in the dirt. 'No plugs.' What, and are you imp— imper— er, imperv…' 'Impervious?' she helped him out.
'Yes!' he snapped, pointing an accusing finger at her. 'And you, too!' He turned to Jake. 'Cutter, is it? Jake Cutter?'
'We were wearing plugs,' Jake answered. 'Then we got involved in a lot of activity. My plugs were knocked out of me, but Liz had hers to the end. And anyway, who the hell—?'
'Decon…I' the other abruptly cut him short. 'Er, decontam— contain…'
'—Decontamination,' Liz said.
'Right!'the old man snapped, jerking his thumb in the direction of the command truck. 'Both of you. Now!'
'Who on earth—?' Jake started again. But by then Ben Trask was there to stop him.
'Jake Cutter,' Trask said, 'this is Lardis Lidesci. I heard you asking who on earth? Well, nobody on Earth, actually. Originally he's from… oh, a different place entirely.' Trask had almost let something drop, stopped himself at the last moment. 'Lardis was in the Greek Islands with another team/ he changed the subject, 'When they didn't find what they were looking for, I asked that he be sent here. He came in this afternoon by chopper from Perth.'
And turning to the Old Lidesci, he said 'Well? How about it?'
Obviously there was something between the two of them that Jake and Liz weren't privy to.
'Him?' Lardis looked at Jake, frowned, gave a shrug. 'Can't say. Could be, I suppose. Fit and young… and stubborn! Won't listen to good advice, and doesn't respect his elders too much, either! Makes him a funny choice if you ask me. But if it's so it's so, and who are we to fathom the ways of the Necroscope?'
'Nothing certain, then?' Trask seemed disappointed.
Lardis shrugged again, and said, 'Well, the proof could be right here in the slime and the stink where these bastards burned… that's if you really want to test your theory?'
Trask knew what Lardis meant even if Jake didn't. He shook his head, said: 'No, he's not ready for that yet. And probably not for quite some time to come.'
Jake had been studying Lardis. The Old Lidesci was short, barrel-bodied, almost apelike in the great length of his arms. His lank black hair, beginning to grey now, framed a leathery, weather-beaten face with a flattened nose that sat uncomfortably over a mouth that was missing too many teeth. As for the ones that remained: they were uneven and stained as old ivory. But under shaggy eyebrows, Lardis's dark brown eyes glittered his mind's agility, denying the encroaching infirmities of his body. Jake guessed he'd been a leader, and rightly so.
If Jake examined Lardis Lidesci, it was certainly no less of an inspection that the old man was giving him. And suddenly, feeling uncomfortable, Jake went on the defensive. Frowning, he said, 'I wish you'd talk to me, you two, instead of about me! I mean, you were talking about me, weren't you?'
'About you and about someone else,' Trask told him. 'We're talking about the fellow that you think — and that we think — might be in your head. Talking about a man called Harry Keogh.'
'I never heard of him,' said Jake, but wondered if in fact he had. The name did seem somehow familiar… and felt familiar, too, in a weird sort of way. Which only served to confuse him and make him angry. 'Anyway, what has he to do with me?'
Trask rubbed his chin, said, 'There's something he used to do that… well, that you seem to do, too. When Liz was under threat,
you… you moved her away from Trennier. And I know I don't need to remind you that that's how you first came to our attention. It's how you brought yourself to our attention: by moving in on us.' Jake shook his head. 'That wasn't deliberate/ he said. 'I mean, I didn't have anything to do with it. It wasn't me.' 'Exactly,' Trask told him.
Jake frowned again. 'I don't see the connection.' 'Neither do we,' Trask said. 'Not just yet. But if there is one, we're going to find out about it.' His eyes were speculative, bright with some strange emotion — hope, perhaps? — where they studied Jake's face… But then he shrugged it off and said, 'Meanwhile Lardis is right. Decontamination time for you two. And I do mean right now.'
And Liz and Jake both knew enough — they had seen enough now — not to argue; and so headed for the command vehicle…
When they had left:
'I missed it/ the Old Lidesci spoke to Trask. 'But he did actually do it, then, this Jake? He used the Mobius Continuum?'
Trask nodded. 'And that makes three times now that we know of.'
'Then we must accept that he is what he is/ Lardis shrugged. 'It seems obvious to me.'
'And I wish it seemed as obvious to me/ said Trask. 'It's just that I don't like the coincidence — that at a time such as this he turns up.'
'But what better time?' Lardis asked him.
'Or what worse?' Trask countered. 'The point is, we know what he might be, but we don't know what he is. The only thing I know for sure, it isn't an act. He really doesn't know what's going on/
'And you haven't told him?'
'What do you want me to tell him, Lardis? That part of him has been occupied by someone who talks to dead people? Someone who can even call the dead up out of the earth, to walk again?
Someone who, at the end of 'life as we know it,' was himself a vampire — and not only him but two of his sons, too? Should I tell him that in Starside, in your world, one of Harry Keogh's sons was a Lord of the Wamphyri, while another was The Dweller, a werewolf? And if Jake didn't think I was a madman, if he actually believed me, what then?'
Again Lardis's shrug. But then, perhaps grudgingly: 'I see what you mean/ he growled. 'If it was me, I'd run like all the devils of hell were after me!'
'And so might he/ Trask nodded. 'And in the Mobius Continuum, he can run a very long way. We can't afford that, can't afford to lose him. Which is why we'll just let this thing develop for a while, and see what happens…'
