Necroscope

Boris. We're not barbarians, my young friend. I'm not talking extermination or Siberia or pre-frontal lobotomy but eviction, emigration, kicking or allowing them to drag their arses out of here! Oh yes!

'All of these things I told him and more. And I guaranteed them — strictly between Leonid and myself, you understand — if only he'd let me do my job and get the KGB right off my back. What were these starch-faced policemen anyway but spies for their boss? And why should they spy on me, loyal as any man and a damn sight more than most? But over and above everything else, how could I hope to maintain any sort of secrecy — absolutely necessary in an organisation such as ours — with members of another branch peering over my shoulder and reporting back to their master everything I was doing, who couldn't possibly understand anything I was doing? They would only laugh, deride what they could not hope to fathom, blow any last vestige of secrecy sky high! And yet again our foreign adversaries would forge ahead; for make no mistake, Boris, the Americans and the British — yes, and the French and the Chinese, too — they also have their mind-spies!

''But give me four years, Leonid,' I said, 'four years free of Yuri Andropov's monkeys, and I will give you the sprouting germ of an ESPionage network whose incred ible potential you cannot possibly imagine!''

'Strong stuff!' Dragosani was suitably impressed. 'And his reply?'

'He said, 'Gregor, old friend, old warhorse, old Com rade… all right, you shall have your four years. And I shall sit and wait and see to it that your bills are paid, and keep you and your branch in funds enough to run your Volgas and drink your vodka, and I shall watch all of these things you've promised or predicted come to pass, which will make me very grateful to you. And if in four years they have not come to pass — then I shall have your balls!''

'And so you've put your faith in Vlady's predictions,' said Dragosani, nodding. 'Are you so sure, then, that this seer of ours is infallible?' 'Oh, yes!' answered Borowitz. 'He's almost as good at predicting the future as you are at sniffing out the secrets of the dead.'

'Huh!' This time Dragosani was not impressed. 'And why then didn't he predict that mess at the Chateau? Surely he could have foreseen a disaster of that magnitude?'

'But he did predict it,' answered Borowitz, 'in a round about way. Two weeks ago he told me I would shortly lose both my right-and left-hand men. And I did. He also said I would appoint others — but this time from the rank and file, as it were.'

Dragosani couldn't conceal his interest. 'You have someone in mind?'

Borowitz nodded. 'You,' he answered, 'and perhaps Igor Vlady himself.'

'I want no rival,' said Dragosani at once.

'Rivalry does not come into it. Your talents are diverse. He does not profess to be a necromancer, you cannot read the future. The reason there must be two of you is to ensure continuity if anything should happen to either one of you.'

'Yes, and we had two predecessors,' Dragosani growled. 'What were their talents — and did they also start out without rivalry?'

Borowitz sighed. 'In the beginning,' he patiently began to explain, 'when I was first pulling the branch together, I was short of actual effective talent in the ranks: my first troop of agents, ESPers, were untried. Those with real talent — like Vlady, who I've had from the beginning, and who improves all the time; and, more recently, like yourself — were too important to tie down with routine administration. Ustinov, also with us from the start but purely as an administrator, and later Gerkhov, fitted their positions precisely. They had no ESP-talent whatsoever but both seemed to have open minds — difficult to find in Russia these days, not that can stay on the right side o the political fence at the same time — and I had hopes that at least one of them would become as deeply inter ested and involved with our work as I am. When jealousy intervened and they became rivals, I decided to let them weed themselves out without intervention. Natural selection, you might say. But you and Vlady are different kettles of fish entirely. I will not permit rivalry between you. Put it out of your mind.'

'Nevertheless,' Dragosani insisted, 'when you are gone one of us will have to take the reins.'

'I do not intend to go anywhere,' said Borowitz. 'Not for a very long time. By then… we shall see what we shall see.' He fell silent, musing, chin in hands, watching the river's slow swirl.

'Why did Ustinov turn on you?' the younger man finally asked. 'Why not simply get rid of Gerkhov? Surely that were easier, less risky?'

'There were two reason why he couldn't just remove his rival,' said Borowitz. 'First, he had been suborned by an old enemy of mine — the man you 'examined' — who I'd suspected for some time of plotting my removal. We actually hated each other, me and this old MVD torturer! It was unavoidable: he would kill me or I him. Because of this I had Vlady watch him, concentrate on him, read him. In his immediate future he read treachery and death. The treachery would be directed against me; the death would be mine or his. A pity Igor isn't more specific. Anyway, I arranged for it to be his.

'Second, killing Gerkhov — however skilfully, however carefully avoiding his own involvement in the actual 'accidental' death — would not remove the problem at its root. It would be like cutting down a weed; in time it would only spring up again. Doubtless I would elevate someone else to the post, probably an ESPer, and what hope would there be for poor Ustinov then? That was his only real problem — ambition.

'Anyway, I am a survivor, as you see. I used Vlady to foresee what that old pig of a Bolshevik arse-kicker had in store for me, and got him before he could get me, and I used you to read his dead guts and see who else was involved. Alas, it was Andrei Ustinov. I had thought perhaps Andropov and his KGB might be in on it, too. They like me about as much as I like them. But they were not involved. I'm glad about that, for they don't give in very easily. But what a world of petty feuding and vendettas we live in, eh, Boris? Why, it's only two years ago that Leonid Brezhnev himself was fired upon at the very Kremlin gates!'

Dragosani had been looking thoughtful. Tell me some thing,' he finally said. 'When it was all over — that night at the Chateau, I mean — was that why you asked me if it was possible for me to read Ustinov's corpse? Or rather, the mess that was left of him? Because you thought he might have been got at by the newer KGB, as well as your retired old chum from the MVD?'

'Something like that,' Borowitz shrugged. 'But it doesn't matter now. No, for if they'd been involved at all it would have come out at the hearing; our friend Yuri Andropov would not have been so much at ease. I'd have been able to see it in him. As it was, he was just a bit pissed off that Leonid has seen fit to haul in his leash a bit.'

'Which means he'll really be after your blood now!'

'No, I don't think so. Not for four years, anyway. And if hen it is shown that I'm correct — that is, when Brezhnev r ealises Vlady's predictions, and so has proof positive of the effectiveness of the branch — not then either! So… with a bit of luck, we're free of that pack for good.' 'Hmm! Well, let's hope so. So, it would seem you've been very clever, General. But I knew that anyway. Now tell me, what other reasons did you have for calling me here today?'

'Well, I've more to tell you — other things in the pot, you know? But we can do that over dinner. Natasha is serving fish fresh from the river. Trout. Strictly forbidden. They taste all the better for it!' He got up, began to lead the way back up the river bank. 'Also' (over his shoulder) 'to advise you that you should now sell that box on wheels and get yourself a decent car. A second-hand Volga, I should think. Nothing newer than mine, anyway. It goes with your promotion. You can try it out when you go on holiday.'

'Holiday?' It was all coming thick and fast now.

'Oh, yes, hadn't I told you? Three weeks at least, on the state. I'm fortifying the Chateau. It will be quite impossible to get any branch work done…'

'You're doing what? Did you say you're — '

'Fortifying the place, yes,' Borowitz was very matter of fact about it. 'Machine-gun emplacements, an electric fence, that sort of thing. They have it at Baikonur in Kazakhstan, where they launch the space vehicles — and is our work any less important? Anyway, the work has been approved, starts Friday. We're our own bosses now, you know, within certain limitations… inside the Chateau, anyway. When I'm finished we'll all have passes for access, and no way in without them! But that's for later. Meanwhile there'll be a lot of work going on, much of which I'll supervise personally. I want the place expanded, opened up, widened out. More room for experimental cells. I've got four years, yes, but they'll go very quickly. First stage of the alterations will take the best part of a month, so — '

'So while all this is going on, I'm to get a holiday?' Dragosani was keen now, the tone of his voice eager.

'Right, you and one or two others. For you it's a reward. You were very good that night. With the exception