Visible' to him as they must be to the pilot of their flying machine… as indeed he would be, if he were down in the resort.
So, they were all set to go, and the onset of hostilities, which must be imminent, might create sufficient of a diversion in itself, allowing Malinari to insinuate himself into the mentalist girl's mind without alerting the locator to his presence — but he thought not. Much better to be safe than sorry.
Let them be the sorry ones.
Earlier, before these people got here, Malinari had started a mist. His body and being — even his existence here in this or any world — these things were all contradictions of Nature. He was a poison that worked like a catalyst on and against any natural or mundane surroundings.
When he opened the pores of his metamorphic body and willed it, his pores would breathe a mist. Not only that but Nature would be made to respond, to answer his call. And even from the dry earth Malinari could call up a writhing mist like vile, airborne sweat, to disguise his presence. In Sunside it had served a dual purpose: to carry his probes more surely to their target (for the mist was like an extension of himself, or a medium for his mentalism) and also to hide him away should he have reason to make a covert exit — in short, a smokescreen.
But this time, so as not to draw attention to himself, he had merely started the thing, set it in motion. And now a fine, milky mist lay on the surface of the pools, and formed a barely visible ground mist in the gardens. But only let Malinari will it, it would spring into being at his command. And in the holocaust to come he would call it up in earnest to carry his mentalism, instil its primal terror, and add to the general confusion.
So then, it was time to set the wheels in motion. Time for his diversion. Time to let these fools know who he was.
He risked a quick, guarded probe, found one of his thralls inside the open doors to the casino, issued a command and withdrew… but with no time at all to spare! And even as Malinari felt his probe seized upon — and as he 'heard' Chung's gasp of startled recognition: 'What the…?' — so he tripped the first of his switches…
Six or seven minutes earlier:
Inside the innocuous-looking, in fact armoured estate car,
Ben Trask, David Chung, lan Goodly, Liz, and the SAS Major were each in their own way concerned. The Major because the articulated ops truck and its back-up party were some minutes late.
Chopper One had relayed the reason for the delay: the big vehicle's engine had developed a fault; that and the steepness of the climb had combined to slow her down.
'The gradient,' Trask said, 'but it could have been any of a hundred and one other logistical problems. Well, we made allowances for this kind of last-minute difficulty. It's why we're made up of three contingents: chopper, car, ops truck. Okay, so we're four men short for the time being. But assuming our estimate of Malinari's manpower is accurate, we still outnumber him three or four to one. And our firepower is awesome.'
And Chung said, 'That bothers me a lot: what you just said about our estimate. For the fact is it's my estimate, so really it's all down to me.'
'No, it isn't,' Goodly denied it. 'It's our best estimate, and we're each of us equally involved in this. Or we should be. And anyway, it's like I told Ben earlier: at least your talents are working for you.'
Trask looked at him. 'Still nothing?'
'Just confusion/ the precog answered. 'And a feeling.'
'You and me both,' Trask said, and the others saw that he was actually chewing his top lip. 'A feeling, yes… that this is all wrong. Okay, in a deserted resort we'd expect the lights to be out — why waste the energy? But the silence of the place, this feeling of a pent-up something, and this inactivity…'
'Ours, or theirs?' said Liz.
Trask shook his head. 'I don't know — really can't say — what I was expecting. But it certainly wasn't this. I mean, he must know we're here, he has to. So what the hell is he up to? David,' he turned to the locator, 'got any ideas? Is there any movement? What's going on?'
Chung's high brow was etched into deep lines of concentration. It's weird as hell/ he said. Tm getting these momentary flashes. It is mindsmog, definitely, but from three or four different locations, and I can't pin them down. Up there in the dome, that's one of them for sure. But the others…' He looked out of his wound-down window at the night-shrouded cliffs where they climbed to the heights behind the resort, and frowned. 'Up high, and down below… that's as much as I dare venture.'
'Up high would be the bubble on top of the Pleasure Dome,' lan Goodly came in. But Chung only frowned.
'Well, possibly,' he said, 'for it's as strong a source as any. But there are shields in use, I'm sure of that.' And:
'Malinari!' Trask grunted, grimly. 'His aerie. Solar-panelled on the outside, painted black and probably curtained on the inside, for his protection. Well, the murdering bastard will be needing all he can get of that!'
'So that's up high,' said Liz, 'but what about down below? It looks like Jake was right, and according to the plans of the place it's a real maze down there.' And turning to Trask, 'Ben, I wish you'd let me try to corroborate David's—'
'—No way!' Trask snapped, turning on her at once. 'That's right out of the question. No telepathic contact, not with Malinari. Only if it becomes absolutely necessary, maybe I'll use you then — but not until, and only if I have to. Liz, this is a mentalist who ranks alongside Janos Ferenczy. And it's one mind you're not going to enter of your own free will!'
Trask and his team were without radio headsets. As espers they needed clear heads, and were better off without the encumbrance of technical equipment. This was a time when the gadgets would only get in the way of the ghosts. And anyway, since they planned on sticking close to the SAS Major throughout the operation, radio contact seemed superfluous to requirement.
But they did hear the faint crackle of static as suddenly the Major held up a hand. And a moment later: 'The big
artic is in sight.' He sighed his relief. 'They've had a long hard haul, but they're getting here.' As he got out of the car he went on, 'It's time we had a little fresh air, but take cover behind the vehicle. We're in a direct line of fire from the casino.'
'Absolutely!' Chung agreed, choking on the word because of the sudden dryness in his throat. 'And up those steps, right in through those doors, that's another source!'
'You're sure?' The Major grasped his elbow.
'In there,' Chung began to sweat. 'Somebody — something — is waiting!' And in fact, and despite that it was cool and even chilly now, they were all sweating.
Abandoning radio procedure, the Major spoke into his headset. 'You men on the doors had better be aware. There's a reception party waiting for you. Before you go in there, a couple of stun grenades might help clear the way a bit. The rest of you: if you missed it from Hawkeye, here's a sitrep: the back-up has arrived. The next time you hear from me it will probably be the go-ahead. Stand by for that, over?'
'Roger that,' a multitude of terse, tense replies came in, then more static and radio silence…
Seconds ticked by, but oh-so-slowly. Then:
There came the rumbling growl of a straining motor, a hissing of air-brakes, and finally the message that the Major had been waiting for: 'Zero, this is the back-up squad. Sorry we're late. We're moving into our locations now.'
The Major turned to Trask, said, 'The show's about to commence. Anything you'd like to say to them?'
'Your men?' Trask shook his head. 'Just wish them the best of luck.' And the Major did it.
And Trask thought, Damn it! I don't even know this bloke's name! Some of his men, but not him. But that's how it goes with these people. In their way they're much like E~Eranch: the less we know about them, the better their security.
There was swift, sporadic movement in the night: the shadowy figures of men, keeping low, moving forward, strengthening the assault force surrounding the casino. Using nite-lite binoculars, the Major watched them take up their positions, turned to Trask and said, 'Are we ready?'
Trask nodded. 'Let's do it,' he said. 'Christ, the longer we wait, the worse it feels!'
'Right,' said the Major. And then, into his headset, 'This is Zero to assault group. We're going in. Attack! Attack! Attack!' At which all hell broke loose — if not exactly as expected — and it all seemed to happen at once.
