Authors: Brian Lumley
The Source (45 page)
“A subterranean sump!” said Harry.
Exactly. The river might run for miles. It might never surface at all! That was Belos's predicament â¦
Others had been there before him, and some of them were still there. He found their remains, ossified. Things he called “trogs,” and “Travellers.” even the skulls and mummied remains of Wamphyri, who'd preferred to sit here on the ledge and wither rather than risk the unknown. But Belos's heart was bigger than that.
“He dared the river?” Harry was fascinated.
Faethor's shrug.
What else could he do? First he tried to re-enter the sphere, of course, but it rejected him. When he held up his arms to plunge them into its light, they were repelled. The Gate into the hell-lands had closed on him. But to sit here with these others and
stiffen into stone was not his way. He would go now, while he still had all of his great strength.
What else could he do? First he tried to re-enter the sphere, of course, but it rejected him. When he held up his arms to plunge them into its light, they were repelled. The Gate into the hell-lands had closed on him. But to sit here with these others and
stiffen into stone was not his way. He would go now, while he still had all of his great strength.
Now, Harry, I suppose you have heard this myth, how vampires fear running water?
“Next to you,” said Harry, “I'm the world's greatest expert on vampires! Or as much of one as you'll find, anyway. You're going to tell me the myth stems from this underground river, which the Wamphyri had to overcome to make their way to the surface of this world, right?”
Correct.
“Thibor had a different explanation.”
Faethor sighed.
Thibor didn't know, as I've explained. He could have learned so much from me, that one. But not knowing, he obviously invented an explanation.
Devious,
as you've said.
Thibor didn't know, as I've explained. He could have learned so much from me, that one. But not knowing, he obviously invented an explanation.
Devious,
as you've said.
“I've said that of all of you,” Harry reminded. “But you've side-tracked. Get back to the point.”
Very well, but the underground river is the source of that particular myth. A vampire is flesh and blood and bone, Harry: Immerse him in water long enough and he will die. Now let me get on:
Belos braved the river, was washed along downstream. At times his head was above water, but there were other desperate moments when the gap narrowed to nothing, so that he was pushed under. It seemed a long time before the ceiling receded, before natural light returned, glimmering at the end of the watercourse. Then came the resurgence, into a basin, which emptied itself into a sluggish river. But this time, as I've said, on the surface. Bedraggled and a little battered, coughing up the river water until he thought he'd dislodge his lungs, at last Old Belos was in this world!
The timeâthe eraâwas some three hundred years before your Christ. And the place â¦
“Yes?” Harry could scarcely contain himself.
As the crow flies: one hundred and seventy miles from the very spot where you now stand!
And indeed Harry was on his feet. “Where, exactly?” he asked.
Near Radujevac, on the Dunarea, Faethor told him. Or on the banks of the Danube, as it might be better known to you. That's where you'll find this resurgence. It is the source of the legend, and the legend is the source of the Wamphyri! Will you go there now, at once?
“Now? No,” Harry shook his head. “Tonight I plan. I go there tomorrow.” He stood there in the darkness and sighed.
A weight off your shoulders, Harry?
“Perhapsâor maybe it's just one more burden.”
I have kept my part of the bargain.
“And I'll keep mine, if the time should come. Meanwhile, you have my thanks.”
Aye, and those of the teeming dead. Hah! Talk about legends! But your own legend is spreading, Harry. And soon to spread much farther, I think. I bid you farewell â¦
Harry beat his arms across his body, loosening the stiffness in his joints and driving out the cold. Then:
“Goodbye, Faethor,” he said. And as always, the Möbius Continuum was waiting to welcome him â¦
Â
Harry's plans and preparations were the simplest of things, easily carried out. Back at E-Branch HQ he told Darcy Clarke what he required, and while the items were being assembled he brought Clarke up to date and went a little deeper into detailing what the boss of E-Branch already knew.
When he'd finished Clarke said: “Let's get this right. You're going to Romania, the Danube in the vicinity of Radujevac, where you'll travel upstream along the course of an underground river, right?”
“That's right.”
“Somewhere up there you expect to find a Gate like
the one at Perchorsk, except there won't be anyone who'll shoot you dead on sight.”
the one at Perchorsk, except there won't be anyone who'll shoot you dead on sight.”
“There might well be people there,' said Harry,”A handful, maybe, but they won't shoot at me. They won't be able to. If I know my business they'll welcome me; they may even have valuable information for me.”
Clarke looked at him and thought;
Dear God!âhe's human but he's so bloody inhuman!
Out loud, quietly, he said: “Dead people, right?”
Dear God!âhe's human but he's so bloody inhuman!
Out loud, quietly, he said: “Dead people, right?”
“Corpses, yes. Maybe not even that. Maybe just memories of people.”
Now Clarke shuddered, long and visibly and violently. He was remembering the Bodescu affair, a time when he'd witnessed with his own eyes the unbelievable
extent
of Harry's power over the dead. Or rather, the result of their respect for him. In fact it hadn't been Harry who called up the dead that time but his son, the then infant Harry Jr. But Harry could do it too, when he had the need.
extent
of Harry's power over the dead. Or rather, the result of their respect for him. In fact it hadn't been Harry who called up the dead that time but his son, the then infant Harry Jr. But Harry could do it too, when he had the need.
Finally Clarke steadied himself and continued. “And having found this Gate, then you'll use it to go ⦠wherever! To another world, the place where your wife and son are. And presumably Jazz Simmons, too.”
Harry nodded. “And Zek Foëner, and maybe one or two others. If they're still alive, and you know I believe they are, then I should have some friends thereâI think. But I may also have enemies. At least one, anyway: a KGB thug called Karl Vyotsky.”
“But assuming everything works out OK, then you'll speak to Brenda, Harry Jr., and when that's done you'll see who wants to come back with you?”
“Something like that, except I still don't know if there's a way back. Remember, I know that nothing from this world has ever got
back
here, and I know that nothing that's come here can ever go back there! Does that make sense? Anyway, that's the way it is.”
back
here, and I know that nothing that's come here can ever go back there! Does that make sense? Anyway, that's the way it is.”
“In short, you're risking your life.”
“Do you want it done or don't you?”
“I want it done, yes; in my own way I'm as curious as you are. And the next thing I want is to see Perchorsk closed down. Even if they don't make those things there, still it's a time-bomb.”
Harry nodded. “I feel the same way about itâbut I have Viktor Luchov's word that nothing will ever escape from Perchorsk again. That's good enough for me.”
Clarke gave a snort. “Harry, your word is good enough for me
any
time, but I'm just one small cog in a very big wheel. I don't suppose that anyone is going to take preemptive or any other sort of action against Perchorsk. Especially not now, in this new climate of âpolitical understanding,' but if something else
does
escape ⦔ He threw up his hands.
any
time, but I'm just one small cog in a very big wheel. I don't suppose that anyone is going to take preemptive or any other sort of action against Perchorsk. Especially not now, in this new climate of âpolitical understanding,' but if something else
does
escape ⦔ He threw up his hands.
“Then it would be right out of your hands, I know,” Harry answered.
Again Clarke's snort. “Right out of control is more like it!” he answered.
“Well, and that's another reason for my going in,” Harry was almost fatalistic about it. “To see if there's anything we can do about itâwhich is maybe better done from the other side.”
The two were silent a while, then Clarke said: “Harry, the rest of your gear will take a little time to get hold of. But it's being done. It's very late now and I'm overdue for my bed. I'll catch a couple of hours and be here to see you off in the morning. Before I go, is there anything else I can do for you? And what will you do with yourself for the rest of the night?”
Harry shrugged. “Oh, I'm not tired,” he said, “but I will try to get some sleep later. It's silly, I know, but I'd rather tackle that underground river during the daylight hours. I mean, I could go tonight, but I don't fancy that.”
“Silly? What's silly about it?”
“Because day or night will make no difference down
there. It's pitch dark all the time. It's just that I'll feel happier knowing it's daylight outside. But anyway, before I do anything I have to speak to Möbius again.”
there. It's pitch dark all the time. It's just that I'll feel happier knowing it's daylight outside. But anyway, before I do anything I have to speak to Möbius again.”
Lost for words, Clarke shook his head. Harry always had this effect on him. “You know,” he finally said, “we're both part of the same world, you and I, but when you talk like that, so naturally, matter-of-factlyâabout the dead, and about these talents of yours, the Möbius Continuum and what all; the way you say: âI'm going to speak to Möbius,' just like thatâJesus, it's like you're an alien! Or else it's like I'm a small kid again. I mean, I
know
what you can do, I've experienced it. But still I sometimes doubt my own senses.”
know
what you can do, I've experienced it. But still I sometimes doubt my own senses.”
Harry smiled, open and honest. “And you're the boss of E-Branch!” he said. “Maybe you've got the wrong job, Darcy.”
He waited until Clarke had left before he went to see Möbius â¦
Â
In Leipzig it was 10:30 A.M. and the graveyard was locked for the night. But of course Harry didn't go in through the gates but through a door, went to see the man who'd taught him to unlock all such doors.
Harry, my boy, I'm glad you've come,
said Möbius.
I've been doing some thinking about this conjectural parallel universe of yours.
said Möbius.
I've been doing some thinking about this conjectural parallel universe of yours.
“It gets less conjectural all the time,” Harry told him. “Only its nature is conjectural now.” And he quickly brought the dead mathematician up to date.
Fascinating!
said Möbius.
And it confirms my own thoughts on the matter.
said Möbius.
And it confirms my own thoughts on the matter.
“Well I have to admit it only baffles me,” said Harry. “There is light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak, but ⦠I mean if there are two gates on this side, why does there only appear to be one on the other?”
Only one? What makes you say that?
“Faethor talked about a shining white door in the
shape of a sphere.
One
door. If there'd been two, wouldn't Old Belos have mentioned the fact?”
shape of a sphere.
One
door. If there'd been two, wouldn't Old Belos have mentioned the fact?”
Well, whether he did or didn't, there are two, I assure you.
Möbius sounded convinced.
Two on this side, and two on that. I can explain the principle very simply, without going into a lot of mathematical detail.
Möbius sounded convinced.
Two on this side, and two on that. I can explain the principle very simply, without going into a lot of mathematical detail.
“I'm all ears,” said Harry.
Right,
Möbius got down to business.
Let's consider these “gateways” a little less intensely, a little more basically. These “doors” which defy the physical laws of that state which we call space-time. We know there are several sorts, and that all of them warp the “skin” of this space-time dimension. Modern scientists readily admit of one such: the black hole. And they make guesses about another sort, which they've termed white holes. In fact a current theory has it that white and black holes are two ends of the same tunnel. The black sucks material in, and the white expels it. Agreed?
Möbius got down to business.
Let's consider these “gateways” a little less intensely, a little more basically. These “doors” which defy the physical laws of that state which we call space-time. We know there are several sorts, and that all of them warp the “skin” of this space-time dimension. Modern scientists readily admit of one such: the black hole. And they make guesses about another sort, which they've termed white holes. In fact a current theory has it that white and black holes are two ends of the same tunnel. The black sucks material in, and the white expels it. Agreed?
Harry nodded. “So I understand,” he said.
Very well. Now, even if the theory is wrong and they're not two sides of the same coin, there remains one factor common to both.
“Which is?”
That they're both one-way systems! Once you enter a black hole, you don't get out again. And once you're expelled from a white hole, there's no way back in. The way I see it, the same thing applies to your grey holes: this Gate at Perchorsk, and the second Gate which you believe lies somewhere along the course of this underground river.
“One-way systems?”
Each of them! Emphasis on “each.” You go in through one, and you come out through the other!
It stopped Harry dead in his tracks. Finally he said; “That's brilliant! Once you use a Gate, it's out of bounds. Having passed you through, it won't accept you again, no matter which end you start out from. But a
second
Gate will! So all I have to do is find the
second Gate. In fact, I already know where it is! It's the Gate the Wamphyri have been using to send their monstrosities through to Perchorsk.”
second
Gate will! So all I have to do is find the
second Gate. In fact, I already know where it is! It's the Gate the Wamphyri have been using to send their monstrosities through to Perchorsk.”
Ah, but that's what it is, not where it is,
said Möbius.
said Möbius.
“It's a step in the right direction, anyway,” Harry replied. Then he sobered a little. “There is however one small drawback. If I come through that Gate into Perchorsk, they'll not only shoot me, they'll probably fry me, too!”
Ahâ!
but here Möbius could only shrug.
but here Möbius could only shrug.
“Thanks, anyway,” said Harry. “You've confirmed what I was already suspecting: that there
have
to be two Gates. The Wamphyri have been using one for thousands of years, and now they've started using the new one, which Luchov and his crowd inadvertently blasted into being at Perchorsk. It's the only explanation. So ⦠if you'll excuse me now I'll be on my way. I have to say goodbye to my mother. She'd never forgive me if I did something like this without telling her.” He sighed. “She'll want to try to talk me out of itâeven knowing she can't. But ⦠she's like that.”
have
to be two Gates. The Wamphyri have been using one for thousands of years, and now they've started using the new one, which Luchov and his crowd inadvertently blasted into being at Perchorsk. It's the only explanation. So ⦠if you'll excuse me now I'll be on my way. I have to say goodbye to my mother. She'd never forgive me if I did something like this without telling her.” He sighed. “She'll want to try to talk me out of itâeven knowing she can't. But ⦠she's like that.”
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