The Clown Service (22 page)

‘They kept it alive for four days. Four days of this thing beating itself (or anyone or anything that came anywhere near it).

‘I remember one of the other men in the team crossing himself and offering an apologetic prayer. “It fights to be free,” he said. “It knows it’s unnatural, is desperate to return to the darkness.” We Russians always were pompous old sods.

‘Having brought it back to life, they couldn’t “kill” it again. Whatever they did, it continued to writhe around. In the end they cut it up and dumped it.

‘Krishnin was ordered to cease the experiment, to reassign the funding and men to something more palatable and actually viable. But Krishnin was not a man to give up so easily. Besides, he had already been pursuing Black Earth off his own
bat for some time. He considered the experiment a success and had already rolled out a program of contamination. The serum was being distributed on a large scale; undertakers all over the country were using it. Security was negligible – nobody worries about poisoning the dead. The serum was spread far and wide.’

‘And then?’

‘This went on for some considerable time. Krishnin was determined he would prove our government wrong. In the end though, he was shot, and as far as we were concerned the matter was buried. Literally.’

I took my phone out of my pocket and triggered the app. ‘It’s been dug up again.’

‘
Eight hundred and seventy three, five, five, seven, five, five, seven
…’

‘When that countdown reaches zero, I imagine we’ll be seeing a lot more bodies clawing their way back onto our streets. How many?’

Gavrill looked panicked. ‘I don’t know, I really don’t … but … hundreds of thousands! You have to understand we were distributing that stuff for well over a year. Nearly two. Shining only became aware of it when Krishnin returned from that final visit to Moscow.’

Wonderful. A fifty-year-old time bomb, ignored by everyone, was about to blow up on my watch.

‘We have to stop the control signal,’ said Gavrill. ‘It’s the only thing we can do. A bomb without a trigger is nothing.’

‘No shit, Ivan,’ I said, biting down on The Fear.

This was too much. I had to find a way of getting the rest of the Service involved. There was no way I could handle it on my own. But would anyone believe me? I had the evidence of Harry
Reid … but could I convince them that he was only the tip of the iceberg? That there might be whole armies waiting to follow his example?

‘So stupid,’ Gavrill was saying, his manner, calm until then, overcome by his own panic. ‘He should never have been allowed to operate. They knew what he was like, knew he was mad. That thing he did, that ability of his … you’re not supposed to be able to take your body with you. That was what did it. That’s what turned him, I’m sure of it …’

Some of his words filtered through my thoughts and triggered an alarm at the back of my head. I realised that I hadn’t asked the one question of him I should have done. Suddenly The Fear lifted.

‘Say that again …’

‘Are you all right, Krishnin old chap? I heard one hell of a kerfuffle going on upstairs. Argumentative rats? Oh … If you’ll forgive me for noticing, you don’t look your best either. Something happen to your chest? You look like someone’s been using you as a pin cushion for a particularly lethal pin.’

‘I have been keeping an eye on your colleagues. For someone who claims to be working on his own, you seem surrounded by people.’

‘A few well-meaning amateurs, perhaps, nothing more. Did one of them take umbrage? With something sharp?’

‘It is of no consequence. I am in a better condition than you, I think.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with me some stitches, ibuprofen and a lazy week in Brighton won’t fix. We Shinings heal quickly.’

‘Then perhaps I should see about making your condition more permanent.’

‘If you were going to kill me, you’d have done so by now. It’s obvious I don’t know anything and, even if I did, tied to a chair and steadily bleeding on my nice suit trousers, I’m not in
a position to do much with the knowledge. I suppose you craved the company?’

‘It
has
been a quiet few years. It is better here if one keeps to oneself.’

‘A strange choice for a base of operations, certainly.’

‘It is peaceful and, thanks to my unusual condition, the residents tend to leave me alone.’

‘Unusual condition. Yes. I’m impressed. You move well, considering. Is there a gym here?’

‘I am better than most. My motor functions seem relatively unimpaired. Other test subjects varied. The process is imperfect. So far, for example, I have been the only candidate with sufficient strength of will to continue functioning intelligently.’

‘Strength of will? From what you said I think it’s more likely you owe your continued thought-processes to my youthful squeamishness. I didn’t take a head-shot. You died slowly. The transition was controlled, the switch from one state of being to the other gradual. How long were you even medically brain dead I wonder? Seconds?’

‘I wasn’t in a fit state to judge.’

‘I imagine not. Could have made all the difference though, don’t you think?’

‘It doesn’t matter. Intelligence isn’t necessary to have Black Earth prove a success. I need an army of fighters not thinkers.’

‘A common enough assumption on the part of dictators.’

‘A dictator? No. I have no wish to rule. I just want to destroy things.’

‘Hardly a noble goal. I realise we never knew each other that well, but I confess I expected better from you. I thought you were a man of learning?’

‘I am. I have learned what I would like to do.’

‘But why? Where’s the gain? Is it revenge? Is it ideology?’

‘There must have been a good reason once. As the years have gone by it becomes hard to remember. Does it matter?’

‘Of course it matters! You’re proposing to be responsible for the deaths of thousands of people. You can’t just do that sort of thing on a whim.’

‘It feels like I can. And that might be the most important thing. I do it because I can.’

‘That’s an aphorism for climbing mountains, not mass slaughter. You said before that you want power, you want control … Power over whom? Control over what?’

‘I don’t know. You’re trying to analyse me. Trying to understand me. Why? Is it because you think that knowledge will help you talk me out of what I want to do?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘But the thing I really want, the thing that drives me more than anything else is to see this happen. You have nothing to argue against. I am doing this because I want to.’

‘But there must be a reason …’

‘Must there? Not anymore. I am a simpler man. I am a force. A solid punch aimed at your country. I look forward greatly to clenching my fist.’

I pressed the doorbell at number sixty-three, and paced up and down waiting for it to be answered.

‘Oh, it’s you …’ It was Jamie. ‘How unexpected and slightly annoying – I’m on the last few pages of
Death Comes as the End
and it’s all working out rather well.’

I pushed Gavrill inside.

‘How charming,’ Jamie shouted over his shoulder. ‘Alasdair, have you been ordering old men online again?’

‘He’s a neighbour of yours and he has something to discuss with you.’ I looked at Gavrill. ‘Tell him what you just told me.’

The old Russian squirmed. ‘I do not make a habit of discussing state secrets with strangers.’

‘I’m not asking you to make a habit of it. Just tell him about Krishnin.’

‘Should I put the kettle on?’ Jamie asked.

‘Just pay attention.’

Jamie sighed, ushered us through into his lounge and turned
off the radio. Lauren Laverne was cut off halfway through extolling the virtues of the latest bright young thing to pick up a guitar and sing about heartbreak.

‘Krishnin was a traveller,’ said Gavrill. ‘He could step out of our plane of existence and into a higher one.’

‘Him and me both,’ said Jamie. He looked to me. ‘Are you trying to get some social club started?’

‘Krishnin had a special skill, though,’ Gavrill continued. ‘Not only could he travel in that other plane mentally, he could pass physically into it. He could step out of our world completely and into the other.’

‘That’s not possible,’ Jamie declared. ‘People are uncertain how to even
define
the other plane, but most agree on one thing: it’s theoretical not physical. It’s head space, a concept, not a solid geographical location.’

‘You are wrong,’ said Gavrill. ‘It’s both – a region of the mind that exists as a real, solid place. But you are right that Krishnin should not be able to go there. It is the ability to do so that made him the creature he is.’

‘You’ve been there,’ Jamie said to me. ‘You’ve seen what it’s like. A hollow nightmare of a place, outside the physical laws we’re used to. Locations shift, time isn’t a constant … It just isn’t possible – a person can’t
physically
go there …’

‘It was that skill that made him so precious to my government back then,’ Gavrill continued. ‘Think of it: a perfect spy or assassin, able to step in or out of our world as he chose. You want to plant a bomb at the heart of your enemy’s stronghold? Fine. He will carry it there, place it where needed and then vanish once more.’

‘He can carry other physical objects with him?’

Gavrill nodded. ‘Of course, although in actuality, it wasn’t as simple as that. If we had been able to control such a man, we would have been unstoppable.

‘However, the act of passing between the planes had a great effect on him – it exhausted him. He had to rest between the transitions. More importantly, time is not synchronised between the two planes. There was no way of guaranteeing when he would arrive back in our world once he had left it. His skills looked good on paper, but they didn’t work on a practical level. Still, the potential was there and he was the darling of the Service because of it.’

‘But it affected his mind,’ I prompted.

‘Yes. The other plane, whatever it is, does not like intruders. It tries to repel foreign matter, like a body expelling a bullet. It altered him, twisted him. By the time I met him I’m not entirely sure he was fit for either world. Eventually, as you know, he proved too unreliable and there was no other choice but to have him removed.’

‘Except someone saved you the job.’

‘They did.’

‘Or rather
didn’t
, as has now been proved by the fact that Krishnin is alive and well and has snatched the old man from beneath my very nose.’

‘Tim’s in trouble?’ asked Jamie.

‘He is, and he needs you to help him.’

Alasdair appeared in the doorway. ‘Oh God, spies again? We must have a word with the council; they can’t keep cluttering up the place.’ With this he promptly retreated.

‘Of course I’m happy to help,’ said Jamie, ignoring Alasdair’s interruption. ‘What do you need me to do?’

‘Where Krishnin’s gone, we need to follow.’

Back at the office and trying not to take out my frustration on the soft furnishings, I was descended on by April. It felt like the last straw on my particularly over-burdened and aching back, but she managed to calm me down.

‘Sit down or I’ll slap you,’ were her words.

I told her everything I’d discovered from Gavrill and filled her in on my plan for Jamie and I to follow Krishnin. She took it all in her stride – was there anything that could ruffle this woman’s feathers? She sat and listened, filling the office with the smoke from endless menthol cigarettes.

‘And you’re still here because … ?’

‘Jamie won’t go right away. He says he needs time to prepare. Which I think means get drunk. Or catch up on
The Archers
, I really don’t know, but it’s driving me up the wall.’

‘You say that time between this plane and the other doesn’t run in parallel?’

‘Normally, though it’s certainly parallel enough for the countdown to be working. Maybe the radio signal is holding the two in sync? Oh I don’t know … Still, I can’t force him, can I? It does make sense to be refreshed and we have until the 31st. I just can’t reconcile delay with the fact that Shining’s trapped in that place and the clock is ticking.’

‘Understandable, but I suppose you have little choice bar holding a gun to the boy’s head.’

‘Precisely.’

‘And what’s Gavrill doing in the meantime?’

‘Talking endlessly to Moscow, I imagine, preparing a cover story for use when this all blows up in our faces.’

She smiled. ‘Glad to see you’re feeling positive.’

‘Oh for God’s sake, how can I? I thought I was managing, you know? Keeping pace with the weirdness, accepting what was going on and dealing with it the best I could. But now I’ve stopped. The adrenaline is running out and I can’t even begin to get my head around the absurdity of
everything
.’

‘Oh, it’s all mad, certainly. August’s life always is. I don’t know how he manages. I suppose he’s been doing this so long it’s become second nature. I joke with him, of course, as the one person who knows as much about this section and its cases as he does, but it’s beyond me too. I just let it wash over me. Because I can. Because it’s not my problem. So I do sympathise.’

‘I just …’ I leaned back on the sofa, resting my head and closing my eyes, trying to find a sense of calm. ‘Your brother acted as if I was more than capable of handling all this and, to be honest, that was lovely. That was a first. My career has not been exactly plain-sailing. I’ve made a few mistakes and—’ Was I going to tell her this? Yes. I rather think I was. ‘I’ve been suffering from panic attacks for a few years. They’re not too bad. Nothing compared to some people, certainly. I manage. But August doesn’t really know me. He thinks I’m stronger than I am and right now he’s depending on me and … I can’t share his sense of faith. I am not the man he thinks I am.’

‘I dare say you’re not the man
you
think you are, either,’ April said. ‘Seems to me the only real problem you have is one of self-doubt. Well, that and a truly disastrous dress-sense, but that’s hardly life-threatening.’