know it all.'
'But for the next few minutes/ said McGilchrist, with his massive hand on Jake's shoulder, 'ye're tae take it easy, until ye're back on yere feet. And then ye should stop worryin' about what's happened tae ye. Ye're in the verra best o' hands, after a'.'
The stiffness was draining from Jake's limbs and his headache was in recession. 'Did I do okay?' he said, looking at Ben Trask. 'Did you get all you wanted? It was that dart, right? It was that dart that I thought was a bullet. What in hell was the thing?'
But while Jake was beginning to feel okay, Trask was still shaken. 'It's not so much what it was,' he replied, 'as what it is, but definitely. And what that makes you.'
'Makes me?' Sensing something of Trask's quandary, perhaps his reluctance to accept whatever he was having to accept, Jake had stopped feeling okay on the instant. Now, frowning, he said 'How do you mean, what it makes me? What I am is plain: a fugitive from so-called justice, hiding out under the protection of E-Branch. Unless you've changed your mind, that is. Is that it? Did you learn something that makes you want to throw me back to the wolves? Am I in fact the sick, psychotic killer that people have been made to believe I am?'
And perhaps Trask would have started to tell him there and then, but at that moment lan Goodly's piping, excited voice was heard from across the clearing:
'Ben, Ben!' the precog was calling. 'Those serials. I know which ones are missing. And I think we're in a lot of trouble!'
'Think?' Trask called from the open door of his tent.
'I know we are,' Goodly was closer now, and his voice commensurately less strident. 'I've seen it coming, Ben,' he said, heading towards Trask's tent at a fast, agitated lope. 'Trouble with a capital 'T', yes. So whatever it is you're doing, put it aside for now. This is just as important — maybe more so — and I think you need to hear me out'
As Trask ducked out under the tent's awning, Liz took hold of Jake's hand and said, 'No one thinks badly of you Jake. What you told us when you were under only serves to corroborate what Ben Trask has been hoping all along. But that's for him to tell you, not me. And as for throwing you to the wolves… au contrain, Jake Cutter: on the contrary. But it could be his intention to throw you at them…'
Ten minutes later, Trask had called his small nucleus of Branch people to him. And at the last moment he'd invited Liz and Jake into the briefing. Everyone was crowded into his tent.
Wasting no time, when all of his people had arrived, Trask said, 'I won't make a meal of this and as soon as we're through here I want you to start packing up. I'd like to be out of here A.S.A.P. Ops truck and vehicles: strip them of everything important to us because we're leaving them behind. Our next target is too far away that we can simply drive to it. It was possible we might have stayed just as we are now, but something has come up. Our Aussie friends will have to follow on behind us, but as the brains behind the brawn, as it were, time is a luxury we've just run out of. So… what's the big hurry, eh?
'Well, you all know about our Mr Miller. But you don't know all about him. To recap: Miller's some kind of nut who believes in friendly aliens, and despite that he's seen the enemy pretty close up he thinks that we are the butchers! He thinks the work we did last night was a totally unjustified pre-emptive strike against a landing party of explorers from outer space, and that they only turned nasty in order to survive. He has even written books on the etiquette of first contact. So obviously, in Miller's warped perceptions, we're sadly lacking in manners.
'It doesn't matter that our 'aliens' are stinking, murderous vampires from a parallel world; Miller's mania would never accept that. He doesn't believe a word I've said to him — probably doesn't even believe they're vampires — but he does think he can talk to them…
'Well, that in itself wouldn't be a problem. His own people can look after him, lock him up or do whatever they deem necessary to make him look like an idiot — which he is — if Miller should start babbling his 'crazy stories' about our work to the press or other sensationalist outlets. So when I found out that he'd made a run for it, in a way I was pleased. At least he was out of my hair. Yes, but that was before I discovered what he'd taken with him.
'People, last night our locators at London HQ, headed up by David Chung, found us a new target: they detected a hitherto unsuspected patch of mindsmog on the other side of the Australian continent. It was only there for a moment — someone's mental shield slipped, shall we say? — but it was the real thing, the unmistakable signature of a Lord of the Wamphyri. I'm talking about a Lord, yes. And what we have to remember is that the Thing we went up against last night, Bruce Trennier, that was a mere lieutenant — someone in thrall to a Lord — left behind by his maker and master for whatever reason.
'Okay, this mindsmog: it was detected at the same time — I mean precisely the same time — as we were dealing with Trennier. Now, we know that many of the Wamphyri had the power of telepathic contact with their thralls even over great distances, so it's possible, indeed probable, that Trennier's unknown master 'felt' his lieutenant's death, and it so surprised or startled him that he let his guard down, if only for a moment. He might even have done it deliberately, tried to establish better contact with Trennier to find out what was happening. As for our people in London, they were lucky; someone happened to be looking in the right place at the right time, and that's when they detected the evil 'aura' of a Great Vampire.
'Of course Chung forwarded this information to me, only to have it intercepted by Peter bloody Miller! And now I couldn't give a damn about him speaking to the media or anyone else for that matter. But I do care that he might be on his way to deliver a warning to one of the worst threats our world has ever faced…
'… A warning that we are on our way to destroy it!'
CHAPTER TEN The Vampire File
When everyone with the exception of Jake and Liz was clear of Trask's tent, he opened his briefcase and plumped a thin file down on the tabje.
'Read it/ he told Jake. 'It will give you something to do for a while, for we may be here a little longer than I anticipated. I was forgetting that we'd have to fly Grahame back home again. Even though he's on his way now, it will still be three to three and a half hours before the chopper gets back. But on the other hand, and since I'd like E-Branch to move as a unit, that's probably just as well; it gives us more time to get our act together — our thoughts, too — for which I'm grateful. I hate starting something without being able to think it through first/
He looked pointedly at Jake. 'That file is your chance to think things through, too. You see, I don't want anyone in the Branch who doesn't fit or doesn't want to be here. However, in the event you do decide to move on, you needn't worry about my handing you over to the law. That's not my way. I would simply wash my hands of you. But if you stay, then you're with us all the way. I have no time for quitters, and in that case I would assist the law in any way possible/
'Huh!1 Jake answered. 'And just when I thought you'd begun to appreciate me. Okay, do you want my answer right now?' 'Read the file first/ said Trask curtly, 'then ask Lardis to tell you about Sunside/Starside. After that I'll fill you in on some of our history, bring you up to date on the current situation, and how we got here, and generally try to explain where you fit in the grand scheme of things. Oh, you'll find it lots of fun, Jake, I can guarantee that.' But despite his guarantee, Trask's words were dry as dust; he was deadly serious, his face utterly devoid of humour…
'Oh, good!' said the other, just as drily and seemingly unimpressed. 'I can't wait.'
'God, why him?' Trask asked under his breath, of no one in particular, as he went stamping from the tent. It was a question he would be asking himself for quite some time to come…
'So why arejyow still here?' Jake asked Liz.
'Because I'm good company,' she answered testily. 'Or maybe I'm maintaining some kind of balance: my good and pleasant aura versus your miserable, messed-up, self-pitying—'
'—I don't pity myself/ Jake cut in, scowling.
'Then have pity on me and leave it out!' she told him. And abruptly, angrily starting to her feet: 'Very well, do it your way. Who needs you, anyway!?'
