[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
that Turchin and Ben are working on something together, so I suppose we have to trust him that far at least.' 'And the bumf you mentioned?' 'It can wait till you've had breakfast. Nothing you can do about it, anyway.' 'It's nothing important, then?' 'I didn't say that,' said Grieve. 'But at least it doesn't change anything. Not right now, anyway.' And Jake said, 'Okay, I'll come see you after breakfast.' _ _ 'I ordered for you,' Turchin told Jake a few minutes later, as he sat down opposite the Russian in an alcove exclusive to the Branch. 'What did you order?' 'Ham, eggs, and hash browns. Oh, and a pot of coffee, naturally.' 'Nothing natural about it,' said Jake, smiling despite his sudden headache. 'It's an addiction!' 'We all have them,' Turchin shrugged. 'With me it's politics. Ever since I was a boy.' 'Here in the West,' said Jake, 'we sort of look on Russian politics as something of a bloodbath.' 'Communism's aftermath,' said Turchin. 'A defunct ideology, thank God! And a pointless one, because it's obvious there will always be those who want to be more equal. But... it still has its adherents. And that's one of the reasons why I'm here.' 'Here at this table?' Jake didn't think so. 'Here in England. Here with E-Branch.' 'You have a problem with some less than democratic politicians back home, right?' 'You're quick to catch on,' the Premier nodded. 'Except it isn't just me but the world.' 'Which sounds pretty similar to our problem,' said Jake. 'I know about your problem,' said Turchin, leaning forward a little. 'And yours and mine disparate though they may seem pretty soon they're going to come together...' Then, as their food arrived, he fell silent. But between mouthfuls: 'Why are you telling me... whatever it is that you're telling me?' said Jake. 'Because you're the Necroscope,' said Turchin at once. 'And because you'll be helping me us, E-Branch, the world, if you insist, which you should, and rightly so to put things back in order.' Jake swallowed what was in his mouth, pulled a face, gulped some coffee down, and sat back. 'Necroscope?' 'Oh, come, come!' said Turchin. 'What am I, a child? I have met and talked with Nathan Kiklu, who Trask calls Keogh, son of the original Necroscope. And every time that I've passed you in the corridor, or seen you in the distance, I've felt that I was seeing him again. No, you're not him not anything like him but the feeling persists. With Liz Merrick, Millicent Cleary or John Grieve, I know I'm in the company of telepaths. The bloom under their eyes gives them away. And you ' ' What gives me away?' said Jake. 'You do,' Turchin told him. 'You have that quality. Not the bloom under your eyes, no, for that's lack of sleep, or perhaps too much? But it's in your eyes, certainly. You've seen strange things, Jake Cutter. And the things you can do... are stranger still.' Jake shook his head. 'I'm not buying that. I look at myself and I see a man, just a man. Surely I can't look all that different to you?' 'But you haven't denied it,' said Turchin. And: 'Very we ll, let me tell you. Last night I went to your room to talk to you. You were out but the door was open.' Jake nodded. 'I forgot to lock it.' 'I understand,' said Turchin. 'Doors are something you must forget about quite often considering you don't need them. But let me go on. I knocked, entered, saw the files. Don't worry, I didn't read them. But I did see what they were, and I also know that E-Branch has a fledgling Necroscope. So, I left your room, occupied my time with this and that, and waited on your return. When you didn't come back I thought to re-enter your room er, perhaps to glance, but just a glance, you understand at those files. Ah! But there you were on the bed, fully clothed just as I see you now, and fast asleep. Well, I did not want to disturb you. But I am not without powers of reason, Jake, and since you had left Harry's Room and returned to it without using the door... two and two made four. You had to be Ben Trask's new Necroscope.' Jake nodded and said, 'He calls you an old fox.' Turchin shrugged and offered a half-smile. 'But any fox who has even managed to grow old would have to be a very wise creature, wouldn't you agree?' 'I suppose so,' Jake answered. 'He would have had to kill a whole lot of chickens along the way, too.' Again Turchin's shrug, as he finished his food. 'Well, such is politics. But... are you done eating?' Jake pushed his plate away. 'It's tasteless,' he said, with a grimace. 'Maybe I ate too well last night in Paris.' 'In Paris?' For a moment Turchin didn't get it, but then he did and his jaw fell open. 'In Paris! Ah! Then I am right!' 'Steak tartar,' said Jake. 'Damn, it was good!' 'Jake, please listen,' said Turchin urgently, as the Necroscope refilled his coffee cup. 'We must talk, and seriously.' 'I'm listening,' said Jake. And Turchin repeated his story, the one he'd told Trask only two days ago. 'So the problem is,' he finished off, 'that while I now have the means to close down the Perchorsk Gate for ever under millions of tons of rock, I do not have a means of delivering the weapon. Trask knows all of this he knows the time restriction, too and I am sure that by now he would have requested your help in this matter if his mind was not concentrated on the evil that already exists. But he's reluctant to tie my [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |