Necroscope IV: Deadspeak

Wamphryi they were children, and just as innocent. 'But can't you see, Darcy,' he tried again, 'they don't know him. They don't know who or where he is.'

Sandra spoke up, displaying all of her innocence and lack of experience for anyone to see. 'Then it's a game of hide-and-seek,' she said. 'We'll keep our heads down and let him make his play. Or close him in through a system of elimination. Or — '

'We can use our locators,' Darcy cut in, 'like we did with Bodescu, and — ' He paused abruptly and his scalp tingled. And: 'Jesus!' he said, giving a nervous start as something of the enormity of the problem — and something of its true horror — suddenly hit him. And: 'Our locators!' he said again. So that now Sandra, too, caught on.

'Oh, my God!' she said.

Harry nodded and allowed himself to flop slowly back in his chair. 'I see we're starting to think,' he said, almost without sarcasm. 'Locators? A terrific idea, Darcy — except our enemy has fixed it so he may soon have a locator of his own. Yes, and Ken Layard's one of the best there is!'

The food arrived; gloomy and thoughtful, Darcy and Sandra only toyed with theirs; Harry tucked his away in short order, lit one of his very rare cigarettes, started on the coffee. Darcy, silent for some time, said:

'If it comes to it, we may have to burn Ken ourselves.'

Harry nodded. 'You can see why I was in a hurry.'

'I'm a fool!' Sandra said, suddenly. 'I feel such a fool! Some of the utterly stupid things I've said!'

'No, you're not a fool,' Harry shook his head. 'Don't put yourself down. You're just loyal, brave, and human. You could no more think like a vampire than you could think like a cockroach. That's what it boils down to: being as devious as they are. But don't think that's a bonus. Believe me it isn't. You can make yourself sick, trying to think like they do.'

'Anyway,' said Darcy, 'I agree with you, Sandra has to get out of this.'

'Yes,' Harry nodded, 'and never should have been in, except there was no way we could know until we got here.' He turned to her. 'You must be able to see, love, how hampered we'd be? Oh, Darcy will get by OK — he always has — but I wouldn't even be able to think straight with you around. I'd be forever worrying about what you might bump into.'

Sandra thought: It's the first time he's called me 'love' in… a day or two? It felt like a long time anyway. But the wait had been worth it. 'And what would I do?' she said. 'Sit around back home and hope for the best?'

Darcy shook his head. 'No, you'd co-ordinate E-Branch's efforts in my absence. With Wellesley out of the picture and me over here, things are bound to be tight. But you have first-hand knowledge of our situation, so you'll be invaluable as our liaison man — or woman. Also, you'll be kept fully in the picture, day to day, on what's happening. In fact you'll probably have so much on your plate that there won't be time to worry about Harry.'

And Harry said, 'He's right, you know.'

She looked at them, then looked away. 'Well, I'll say one thing for it: at least I won't have to worry about things like… like burning poor Ken!'

Darcy looked at Harry. 'How about it? How long do we have before…?'

'It will only come to that — dealing with it ourselves — if the local authorities don't get a move on,' Harry answered. 'But out here, because of the heat and such, I should think they're normally pretty smart off the mark.'

Darcy frowned. 'But is there no official deadline — God, what a pun! I mean, before things start to get… problematic?'

'You mean: when does he get up and walk, right?' Harry shook his head. 'No, there's no official deadline. How long did it take George Lake, Yulian Bodescu's uncle?'

'Three days and nights,' Darcy answered at once. 'They had just enough time to bury him before he was digging his way out again.'

'Oh, don't!' said Sandra, her eyes bright with horror.

Harry looked at her, felt sorry for her, but had to continue anyway. 'Lake was textbook,' he said. 'But I don't think there are any strict rules. None I'd trust, anyway.' He sat up straighter and looked around. 'But you know, I was just thinking: for tourists we must look pretty miserable! Anyway, this place is filling up now. I suggest we get back to the villa. Let's face it, I could be wrong about the value of crowds; we could be just as safe there as we are here. And whichever, we still have to make our plans — and make the villa secure.'

On their way back they were mainly silent. This far out from the centre of Rhodes, and this early in the season, things weren't so busy. There was plenty of traffic on the roads, heading for the bright lights, but the sidewalks were almost empty. With the sea flat and shining on their right, beyond the promenade, and the Milky Way strewn like the dust of diamonds across the sky, it might have been very romantic. In other circumstances. But as they walked the pebble path to their door, even the plaintive, repetitive, molten silver calling of small Greek owls couldn't lift their mood.

As soon as they were inside Darcy went upstairs to check the windows, while Harry tended to the downstairs windows and back door. Both doors were solid, with strong locks and good bolts. All the windows were fitted with shutters externally and thief locks internally.

'Couldn't be better,' said Darcy, as they got together again around a table in the sitting-room.

'Oh, it could be,' Harry contradicted him. 'Remind me tomorrow to buy some garlic.'

'Of course,' Darcy nodded. 'You know, I'd forgotten that entirely? It's so much a part of the fiction that it slipped my mind it's also part of the fact!'

'Garlic,' Harry repeated, 'yes. On Sunside the Travellers call it 'kneblasch'. That's the root of its name in Earth's languages, too. It's the German 'Knoblauch' and the Gypsy 'gnarblez'.' He grinned tiredly and without humour. 'Another piece of useless information.'

'Useless?' said Sandra. 'I think it's as well if you give us all the useless information you can!'

Harry shrugged. 'You can get a lot of it out of Darcy's 'fiction'. But if that's what you want…' And he shrugged again, but warned: 'Except you must always remember, nothing is certain, not with a vampire. And no one — myself included — knows everything there is to know about them. What, everything? I don't know a tenth of it! But I do know that the closer you get to the source, to the original Wamphyri stock, the more effective the various poisons become. Garlic sickens them. Its stink offends as ordure offends us, even makes them ill. On Starside, Lardis Lidesci smears his weapons with oil of garlic. A vampire, struck with a weapon treated that way — arrow, knife or sword, whatever — will suffer hideously! Often the infected member must be shed, and another grown in its place.'

Darcy and Sandra looked at each other aghast, but they said nothing.

'Then there's silver,' Harry continued, 'poison to them, like mercury or lead is to us. Which reminds me: we should be on the lookout for a couple of these fancy Greek paperknives — in silver or silver-plate. Darcy, you saw those bolts I packed with my crossbow? They're of hardwood, rubbed with garlic oil, tipped with silver. And please don't ask me if I'm serious. On Starside the Travellers swear by these things, and stay alive by them!'

Starside! Darcy thought, staring at Harry. The alien, parallel world of the vampires. He's seen it, been there and returned. He's had all that. And now he sits here, entirely human and vulnerable, and tries to explain these things to us. And somehow he doesn't get angry with us, and somehow he doesn't crack up and rant and rave. And he never quits.

'Vampires,' said Sandra, and felt herself thrilling to the word, even knowing she loathed it. 'Tell us about them, Harry. Oh, I know it's all in the files back at E-Branch HQ in London. But it's different coming from you. You know so much about them, and yet you say you know so little.'

'I'll tell you the several sure things I know about them,' said Harry. 'They're devious beyond the imagination of human beings. They're liars each and every one, who on almost every occasion would rather lie than tell the truth — unless there's something of substantial value in it for them. They're expert in confusing any argument, adept at ambiguous and frustrating riddles, word-games, puzzles and paradoxes, false similes and parallels. They're insanely jealous, secretive, proud, possessive. And as for their grip on life — or undeath — they are the most tenacious creatures in or out of Creation!

'Their source lies in the vampire swamps east and west of the central mountain range that divides Starside from Sunside. The legend is that at times they emerge as monstrous slugs or leeches to fasten on men and beasts. As to what degree of intelligence they possess at that stage: who can say? But their tenacity is there from square