bl.necroscope2-第33章

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hich　was　now　just　beginning　to　roar。
　On　his　way　out；　Yulian　spoke　to　VIad。　〃Stay；　watch。〃　Then　he　went　back　into　the　house。　Upstairs；　passing　his　mother's　room；　he　heard　her　moving。　He　looked　in。　Georgina　was　pacing　the　floor　wringing　her　hands　and　sobbing。　She　saw　him。
　〃Yulian？〃　Her　voice　was　a　tremor。　〃Oh；　Yulian；　what's　to　bee　of　you？　And　what's　to　bee　of　me？〃
　〃What　was　to　bee　has　bee；〃　he　answered　coldly；　unemotionally。　〃Can　I　still　trust　you；　Georgina？〃
　〃I。。。　I　don't　know　if　I　trust　myself；〃　she　eventually　answered。
　〃Mother；〃…he　used　the　term　without　thinking…〃do　you　want　to　be　like　George？〃
　〃Oh；　God！　Yulian；　please　don't　say。　。
　〃Because　if　you　do；〃　he　stopped　her；　〃it　can　be　arranged。　Just　remember　that。〃
　He　left　her　and　went　to　his　own　room。　Helen　heard　him　ing。　She　gasped　at　the　sound　of　his　quiet；　even　footfalls　and　threw　herself　on　his　bed。　As　he　came　in　through　the　door　she　lifted　her　dress　up　to　display　the　lower　half　of　her　body。　She　was　naked　under　the　dress。　He　saw　her；　the　way　her　face　worked：　trying　to　smile　through　a　mask　of　white　terror。　It　was　as　if　someone　had　thrown　powdered　chalk　on　the　face　of　a　clown。
　〃Cover　yourself；　slut！〃　he　said。
　〃I　thought　you　liked　me　like　this！〃　she　cried。　〃Oh；　Yulian；　don't　punish　me。　Please　don't　hurt　me！〃　She　watched　him　stride　to　a　chest　of　drawers；　take　out　a　key　and　unlock　the　top　drawer。　When　he　turned　towards　her　he　was　grinning　his　sick　grin；　and　in　his　hands　he　weighed　a　shining　new　cleaver。　The　thing　had　a　seven　inch　blade　and　was　heavy　as　a　small　axe。
　〃Yulian！〃　Helen　gasped；　her　mouth　dry　as　sawdust。　She　slid　off　the　bed　and　shrank　away　from　him。　〃Yulian；　I　…〃
　He　shook　his　head；　laughing　a　weird；　bubbling　laugh。　Then　his　face　turned　blank　again。　〃No；〃　he　told　her；　〃it's　not　for　you。　You're　safe　as　long　as　you're。。。　useful　to　me。　And　you　are　useful。　I'd　have　to　pay　a　lot　to　find　one　as　sweet　and　fresh　as　you。　And　even　then…like　all　women…she　wouldn't　be　worth　it。〃　He　walked　out　and　closed　the　door　noiselessly　behind　him。
　Downstairs；　as　he　left　the　house　again；　Yulian　noticed　the　column　of　blue　smoke　rising　from　the　chimney　stack　at　the　back。　He　smiled　to　himself　and　nodded。　Anne　was　working　hard　down　there。　But　even　as　he　studied　the　smoke；　the　fluffy　September　clouds　parted　a　little　and　the　sun　struck　through。　Struck　bright；　hot；　searing！
　The　smile　twisted　on　Yulian's　face；　became　a　snarl。　He　had　left　his　hat　indoors。　Even　so；　the　sun　shouldn't　burn　like　this。　His　flesh　almost　felt　scalded！　And　yet；　looking　at　his　naked　forearms；　he　could　see　no　blisters；　no　burns。
　He　guessed　what　it　must　mean：　the　change　had　speeded　up　in　him　and　his　final　metamorphosis　was　beginning。　Then；　shrinking　from　the　sun；　gritting　his　teeth　to　keep　from　crying　out　as　the　pain　increased；　he　hurried　back　to　the　cellars。
　Down　below　Anne　worked　at　the　furnace。　Her　breasts　and　buttocks　were　shiny　with　sweat　and　streaked　with　grime。　Yulian　looked　at　her　and　marvelled　that　this　had　been　〃a　lady〃。　As　he　approached　she　dropped　the　shovel；　backing　away　from　him。　He　carefully　put　down　his　cleaver；　so　as　not　to　dull　its　edge　in　any　way；　and　advanced　on　her。　The　sight　of　her　like　this…wild　and　naked；　hot　and　perspiring　and　full　of　fear…had　triggered　his　lust。
　He　took　her　on　the　heaped　coke；　filled　her　with　himself；　with　the　vampire　thing　in　him；　until　she　cried　out　her　immeasurable　horror…her　unthinkable　pleasure？…as　his　alien　protoflesh　surged　within　her　。
　Finished　at　last；　he　left　her　sprawling　exhausted　and　battered　on　the　coke　and　went　to　inspect　George。
　He　found　the　Other　inspecting　him；　too。　Up　from　the　gaps　between　strained　flags；　protoplasmic　flesh　had　crept　in　doughy　flaps　and　tendrils；　binding　George　Lake　to　the　floor　as　the　Other　examined　him。　There　was　no　real　curiosity　in　the　thing；　no　hatred；　no　fear　（except　maybe　an　instinctive　fear　of　even　the　slightest　degree　of　light）　but　there　was　hunger。　Even　the　amoeba；　which　〃knows〃　very　little；　knows　enough　to　eat。　And　if　Yulian　had　not　returned　when　he　did；　certainly　the　Other　would　have　devoured　George；　absorbed　him。　For　there　was　little　denying　that　he　was　food。
　Yulian　scowled　at　the　Other's　flaccid；　groping　pseudopods；　its　quivering　mouths　and　vacuous　eyes。　No！　He　sent　out　the　sharp　thought；　like　a　drill　on　the　creature's　nerve…。　endings。　Leave　him！　Begone！　And　whatever　else　it　failed　to　understand；　definitely　the　Other　understood　Yulian。
　As　if　seared　by　a　blowtorch；　the　pseudopods　and　other　anomalies　lashed；　retracted；　disappeared　with　squelching　sounds　below。　It　took　only　a　second　or　two；　but　this　had　been　only　part　of　the　Other。　Yulian　wondered　how　big　it　had　grown　now；　just　how　much　of　it　filled　the　pacted　earth　under　the　house　。
　Yulian　took　his　cleaver　and　got　down　beside　George。　He　placed　his　hand　on　his　midriff　just　under　the　stump　of　stake。　Something　at　once　moved　convulsively　in　him。　Yulian　sensed　it　coiling　itself　like　a　prodded　caterpillar。　George　might　look　dead；　should　be　dead；　but　he　wasn't。　He　was　undead。　The　thing　that　lived　in　him…that　which　had　been　Yulian's；　but　grown　now　and　controller　of　George's　mind　and　body…merely　waited。　The　stake　alone　had　not　been　enough。　But　that　came　as　no　real　surprise；　Yulian　had　not　been　especially　sure　that　it　would　be。
　He　took　up　his　cleaver　and　wiped　the　shining　blade　on　his　rolled　shirt　sleeve。　And　the　yellow　eyes　in　George's　grey；　mutilated　face　moved　in　their　blood…rimmed　orbits　to　follow　his　movements。　Not　only　was　the　vampire's　body　in　George's　body；　but　its　mind　was　in　his　mind；　grafted　to　it　like　a　feasting　leech。　Good！
　Yulian　struck。　He　struck　rapidly；　three　times：　hard；　chopping　blows　that　bit　into　George's　neck　and　cut　through　flesh　and　bone　with　perfect　ease。　In　another　moment　his　head　rolled　free。
　Yulian　gripped　the　severed　head　by　its　hair　and　stared　into　the　core　of　the　neck　stump。　Something　green…　and　grey…mottled　drew　itself　out　of　sight　into　fibrous　mucus。　Nothing　Yulian　could　see　looked　like　it　should。　The　manpart　of　this　thing　was　a　mere…envelope　of　flesh；　a　shell　or　disguise　to　protect　the　creature　within。　Likewise　the　body：
　when　Yulian　propped　up　the　headless　trunk　with　his　knee；　a　sinuous　something　slipped　quickly　down　into　the　bloody　pipe　of　George's　yawning　gullet。
　
　Perhaps　in　two　parts　the　vampire　would　eventually　die；　but　it　was　not　dead　yet。　Which　left　only　one　sure　way；　one　tried　and　true　means　of　disposal。　Fire。
　Yulian　kicked　the　head　in　the　direction　of　the　furnace。　It　rolled　past　Anne　where　she　lay　exhausted；　barely　conscious　in　her　extremity　of　terror。　She　had　seen　all　that　Yulian　had　done。　The　head　came　up　against　the　foot　of　the　furnace；　rebounded　a　little　way　and　stopped。　Yulian　dragged　the　body　to　the　furnace　and　threw　open　the　door。　Inside；　all　was　an　orange　and　yellow　shimmer。　Heat　blasted　out；　a　shaft　of　heat　roared　up　into　the　flue。
　Without　pause　Yulian　picked　up　the　head　and　threw　it　into　the　furnace；　as　far　to　the　back　as　he　could　get　it。　Then　he　propped　up　George's　body　against　the　open　door；　and　levered　him　shoulders　first　into　the　inferno。　Last　to　go　in　were　the　legs　and　feet；　which　already　were　starting　to　kick。　Yulian　needed　all　his　strength　to　control　the　thrashing　limbs　until　he　at　last　got　them　up　over　the　rim　of　the　door　and　slammed　it　shut。　The　door　at　once　banged　open；　impelled　by　a　raw；　steaming　foot。　Again　Yulian　thrust　the　member　inside　and　slammed　the　door；　and　this　time　he　shot　the　bolt。　For　long　seconds；　in　addition　to　the　roaring　of　the　fire；　there　came　thumping　vibrations　from　within。
　In　a　little　while；　however；　the　noises　subsided。　Then　there　was　only　a　long；　sustained　hissing。　Finally　only　the　fire's　roar　could　be　heard。　Yulian　stood　there　for　long　moments　with　his　own　private　thoughts；　before　finally　turning　away。。。
　
　By　11。00　P。M。　that　same　Saturday；　Alec　Kyle　and　Carl　Quint；　Felix　Krakovitch　and　Sergei　Gulharov　were　on　a　scheduled　Al　Italia　night　flight　for　Bucharest；　which　would　arrive　just　after　midnight。
　Of　the　four；　Krakovitch　had　spent　the　busiest　day；arranging　all　the　paraphernalia　of　entry　into　a　Soviet　satellite　for　the　two　Englishmen。　He　had　done　this　the　easy　way：　by　phoning　his　Second　in　mand　at　the　Chateau　Bronnitsy…one　Ivan　Gerenko；　a　rarely　talented　〃deflector〃…and　getting　him　to　pass　the　details　on　to　his　high…powered　go…between　on　Brezhnev's　staff。　He　had　also　asked　that　it　be　arranged　for　him　to　have　maximum　assistance；　if　he　should　require　it；　from　the　USSR's　〃rades〃　in　puppet　Romania。　They　were　still　an　insular　lot；　the　Romanians；　and　one　could　never　be　absolutely　sure　of　their　co…operation…。　。　Thus　Krakovitch's　afternoon　was　taken　up　in　making　and　answering　calls　between　Genoa　and　Moscow；　until　all　arrangements　were　in　hand。
　Not　once　through　all　of　this　did　he　mention　the　name　of　Theo　Dolgikh。　Ordinarily　he　would　have　taken　his　plaint　to　the　very　top…to　Brezhnev　himself；　as　the　Party　Leader　had　ordered…but　not　in　the　present　circumstances。　Krakovitch　had　only　Kyle's　word　that　Dolgikh　was　temporarily　and　not　permanently　detained。　As　long　as　he　remained　ostensibly　in　ignorance　of　the　KGB　agent　and　his　affairs；　then　all　would　be　well。　And　if　indeed　Dolgikh　were　safe　and　merely；　for　the　moment。　〃secure〃…。　。　time　enough　later　to　bring　charges　of　interference　against　Yuri　Andropov。　Krakovitch　did　marvel；　though；　that　the　KGB　had　got　on　to　his　supposedly　secret　mission　to　Italy　so　quickly。　It　made　one　wonder：　were　EBranch　officials　under　KGB　surveillance　all　of　the　time？
　As　for　Alec　Kyle：　he　too　had　made　an　international　call；　to　the　Duty　Officer　at　INTESP。　That　had　been　late　in　the　afternoon；　when　it　had　looked　fairly　certain　that　he　and　Quint　would　be　acpanying　the　two　Russians　to　Romania。　〃Is　that　Grieve？　How　are　things　going；　John？　he　had　asked。
　〃Alec？〃　the　answer　came　back。　〃I've　been　expecting　you　to　give　us　a　ring。〃　John　Grieve　had　two　talents；　one　of　them　〃dodgy〃；　branch　parlance　for　an　as　yet　undeveloped　ESP　ability；　and　the　other　quite　remarkable　and　possibly　unique。　The　first　was　the　gift　of　far…seeing：　he　was　a　human　crystal　ball。　The　only　trouble　was　he　must　know　exactly　where　and　what　he　was　looking　for；　otherwise　he　could　see　nothing。　His　talent　didn't　work　at　random　but　must　be　directed：　he　must　have　a　definite　target。　His　second　string　made　him　doubly　valuable。　It　could　well　prove　to　be　a　different　facet　of　his　first　talent；　but　on　occasions　like　this　it　was　a　godsend。　Grieve　was　a　telepath；　but　one　with　a　difference。　Yet　again　he　must　〃aim〃　his　talent：　he　could　only　read　a　person's　mind　when　he　was　face　to　face　with　that　person；　or　when　talking　to　him　…even　on　the　telephone；　if　he　knew　the　person　in　question。　There　was　no　lying　to　John　Grieve；　nor　any　need　for　a　mechanical　scrambler。　That　was　why　Kyle　had　left　him　on　permanent　duty　at　HQ　while　he　was　away。
　〃John；〃　said　Kyle；　〃how　are　things　at　home？〃　And　he　also　asked：　What's　happening　down　on　the　ranch；　in　Devon？
　〃Oh；　well；　you　know。。。〃　Grieve's　answer　sounded　iffy。　〃Can　you　explain？〃　What's　up？　But　careful　how　you　answer。
　〃Well；　see；　it's　young　YB；〃　came　back　the　answer。　〃It　seems　he's　cleverer　than　we　allowed。　I　mean；　he's　inquisitive；　you　know？　Sees　and　hears　too　much　for　his　own　good。〃
　〃Well　we　must　give　him　credit　for　it；〃　Kyle　tried　to　soun