Necroscope - The Lost Years, Vol II Part 34

I wasn't able to see her face in that dark garage! And in the animal shelter, the light was so very poor.

But what about the other time? When the red-robed priests -Drakuls? - attacked us in the valley of the Spey?

It was a dream, a nightmare like all the others I've been having. Wamphyri!

Just f.u.c.king nightmares, all of them!

(His levels were interfacing, faster and faster.) Radu!.. .the Ferenczys!... the Drakuls! - -And B.J.?

'But BJ. is innocent!' he cried out loud - and collapsed there and then, crumpling sideways from his seat on the slab to the dirty gravel at the weedy foot of the grave.

But Mesmer was with him, in contact with the Necroscope's mind, witness to his torment And knowing that he was responsible for -that he had somehow brought about - Harry's seizure, the good doctor was 'galvanized' to instinctive action.

He took charge; his 326.hypnotic presence swelled enormous in the chaos of Harry's colliding realities; his power flowed back into him as if it had never been absent And: SLEEP! Mesmer commanded, demanded. BE STILL, HARRY! SLEEP WELL, SLEEP DEEP, NECROSCOPE! HEAR MY VOICE AND ONLY MINE. AND.

OBEY FT. FOR MY VOICE IS A REFUGE. MY VOICE IS PEACE AND TRUTH.

OBEY ME, HARRY, AND SLEEP AND WHEN YOU AWAKEN, BE WELL...

At which a vast and soothing darkness seemed to wash over the Necroscope's troubled mind. He sighed as his limbs stopped twitching, his heart slowed from pounding, and his wildly staring eyes blinked and grew calm, an d finally closed as his head lolled back on the cold gravel chips.

Then there came the sound of running footsteps, and anxious voices raised in startled inquiry. But for a while these were the last real, physical sounds that Harry heard, and all that remained was Mesmer's voice telling him to: BE STILL, BE QUIET AND REST, NECROSCOPE. LET ME WORK NOW, AND.

TRY TO FIND YOUR WOUND AND.

HEAL FT.

Harry did as he was told, opened his mind, felt Mesmer's powerful mental probe stirring in the wells of his memor y. But that was all.

He certainly didn't feel the hands that gentled him onto a stretcher...

Voices, approaching and receding, coming and going, like a difficult radio station that won't hold still.

And pleading? Harry recognized his beloved Ma's voice - pleading on his behalf? And Doctor Franz An ton Mesmer's, trying to rea.s.sure her. But it was all so very fuzzy, distant and delirious, as if he were in some kind of traumatized sleep. Or as if...

... As if he were under an hypnotic influence.

But this was only part of it! His Ma sounded close to hysteria. And now you have to concede that I was right, Keenan. If we had told Harry - if my son had learned the entire truth, as we know it, all at one time - what then? And even now, if Mesmer wasn't there to see him through this, what would become of him? And all because of the merest hint, the merest suggestion, that this B.J. might be other than she appears! (The Necroscope could picture his Ma wringing her hands.) Then Sir Keenan Gormley: Mary, Mary! But Mesmer is there! It's why we didn't interfere: because we knew that if anything were to go wrong, Harry would be in the best possible ha nds.

And finally Mesmer himself: Leave it to me, th e good doctor told them, and everyone else who was listening in, but with such an air of authority that it was plain his faith in himself was restored. Leave it to me, please. For since it seems I initiated this attack, surely I should Necroscope: The Lost Years - Vol. II 327 be the one to correct it? Ah, but if only you had come to me first...

But we couldn't kno w he would come to you! (Keenan Gormley again.) We simply advised, suggested, hinted, in our way, that Harry should see a specialist. We never for a moment guessed he would seek out the hypnotist! When he did - when we knew he was coming to Meersburg - we had so little time. And the last thing we wanted was that he should change his mind.

Well, he didn't change his mind, Mesmer said, and he did come. As for myself, I doubt if it was a coincidence. For I've seen inside his mind - and what I saw was amazing! It seems to me that the past and future are all one to Harry, and that his visit was preordained. Orprevisioned?

It's possible, Harry's Ma cut in. He seems to have inherited at least a residuum of Alec Kyle's talent.

Exactly! said Sir Keenan. Perhaps that's why I don't seem to worry over him the way you do: because I have real faith in his talents. In the talents ofE-Branch in general, I mean. In which I'm surely justified.

They rarely let me down in my lifetime, and Harry hasn't let me down... since.

His words, while spoken from the heart, might have been a little more diplomatic. The Necroscope's Ma, who seemed so much calmer now, was rathe r more so. Despite your sincerity, Keenan, she sa id, still I won't stop worrying. For Just as E-Branch was your baby, Harry is mine. That is why I worry over him!

For a moment there was an awkward silence, until Mesmer said, Well, and now that you've told me something of his problems, maybe I can work something out . He trusts me; his sleeping mind is open to me; I have his permission, and access. But there are things - or more properly times, memories - that are hidden, forbidden, where there is no access. Not to me, anyway. Harry's 'injuries,' the blockages in his mind, must have occurred at these times and are hiding in these forbidden memories.

And you mustn't interfere with them, (Harry's Ma again.) For that's what caused his collapse.

But... it's why he came to me! (Mesmer's bewildered protest). Also, I may have the answer to his problem.

That woman I saw in his mind. I don't know how, but unless I'm very much mistaken I've seen her before. Except I know it can't be, for that was close to one hundred and seventy years ago!

Oh, it can be. Harry's Ma told him. Believe me, it can be.

And Sir Keenan corroborated it. Don't ask us for explanations, Doctor, but Just as Harry showed you incredible things, so could we tell you some. Such things as have been the Necroscope's life, and almost his death. And you're right, they are what we're up against, and t hat girl is part of it. What is it you know about her?

When I was in Paris, Mesmer answered , a gypsy woman foretold my 328.

329.

death. Myself, I was never superst.i.tious, but this time ... there teas something about this woman. She said I would die in 1814, and it preyed on my mind. Then, in the summer of 1813, back in Switzerland, I was visited by a girl who told me I had once spoken with her mother -a seer of the Szgany Mirlu! The girl's name, if memory serves, was Barbara Jane Mirlu; she preferred to be called by her initials. An odd preference for the period.

Not necessarily, Sir Keenan told him. A person may change her name to hide her true ident.i.ty, but retain the initials as a fad or reminder, or as a constant. It would be easy for such a person to slip up in the use of a false name, but not if she simply used the initials.

A criminal, perhaps? As yet, Mesmer had not entirely accepted or digested what they'd told him. But in the next moment Ah, no! I see! You mean, someone who has lived too long!

Exactly, said Harry's Ma, grimly. And well over a hun dred years too long! This B.J. Mirlu is alive today, Doctor, and she has hy pnotized my son. She's his problem. He's... in love with her! These blockages in his mind, she put them there to obscure her true purpose.

Then surely they must be removed. (Mesmer's shr ug.) But he is like two people, two personalities! Mary Keogh cried. Break down the barriers that this woman has constructed, and h.e.l.l fight himself to the death. My son's reality has been so undermined that... that you wouldn't believe the things he has been through.

Things which he has survived, Sir Keenan pointed out But for how much longer? Harry's Ma rounded on him.

You do me no credit, Mesmer murmured, directing his words at Mary Keogh. Are you forgetting that your son - a living man - has spoken to me, or that he has shown me certain things? I might have doubted or disbelieved before I met the Necroscope, but no longer. Moreover, I no longer doubt myself, for which I have him to thank. And I tell you that despite all your fears, still I may be able to do something for him.

Sir Keenan spoke up again. // seems we've digresse d. You were telling us about your meeting with B.J. Mirlu, in 1813?

Ah, yes! Mesmer answered. She reminded me that all those years earlier, in Paris I had succeeded in putting her mother into a trance. Now she wanted me to try to do the same to her. Except B.J. would allow no apparatus, no special setting, only the power of the eyes, the mind. I sensed that in fact she intended to hypnotize me &tild; she used the term 'beguile' - but I went ahead anyway. It was like a challenge, but a challenge I lost, for she completely defeated me! Which is to say, she put me to sleep quite effortlessly.

Her skill was in every way superior to mine. But she did me no harm, and before leaving she told me it had . -I.

- L_ J """.

-? J_. _"!. _.

A T I__ J J__ _.

And the curse? Sir Keenan pressed him. That you would die in 1814?

Well I did, of course. But as B.J. explained, it wasn't a Gypsy curse. Her mother had simply l ooked into the future and seen my death. Telling me had been spiteful, however: her way of paying me back.

For what? (This from Mary Keogh).

For failing to beat m e at her own game - hypnotism, as you call it now (Sir Keenan's incorporeal nod of understanding). She was a vampire thrall, testing out her powers. You are to be congratulated, Doctor. Even an 'expert' in metaphysical skills would expect to be beaten by someone touched by vampirism. And B.J. 's forebears... well, they've been more than merely touched,' and for a very long time!

But that was the mother, Mesmer answered. While the daughter, this B.J., was different again. Indeed a beguiler!

And this is the woman who has my son so completely in her spell, (Harry's Ma spoke up). And you are proposing to go into his mind to try and correct or expunge her influence? How will you go about it?

I shall discover what I can of the Necroscope's problem. (Again Mesmer's shrug). After that, since I may not reveal to him the actual cause of his - what, lesions? -perhaps lean suggest when they occurred? Surely if he knows when the damage was done, h.e.l.l be able to work it out for himself who is responsible?

Good! said Harry's Ma.

And Keenan Gormley put in: / suggested something of the sort myself.

While on second thought, Harry's Ma said. But a lot better if you could break this creature's spell on Harry without his knowing there is one! If you could do that, then he would be his own man again.

But you said he loved her, Mesmer pointed out. And as you yourself are proof, that is the strongest spell of all...

Mary Keogh had no answer to that But Sir Keenan said, Do what you can. Well be grateful for anything of benefit.

But please be careful! With which thevoice of Har ry's Ma and all of their Voices,' their dead thoughts - faded slowly away, drifting as the Necroscope drifted in his sleep...

Harry didn't remember anything of his dream, only that he had dreamed of dead voices locked in some obscure argument. But in any case his sleep must have been beneficial; he felt relaxed, rested and quite well. Post-hypnotic suggestion - Mesmer's implants, of course - but the Necroscope didn't know that Instead he would consider his mission to Mesmer a failure, and wouldn't know what the dead doctor had achieved until much later.

Time in innbe /> Hnrrvl (Mpsmpr's last words to himV B.

rian Lumley 330.

began to stir. He felt ai r from an open window, and sunlight on his face; he smelled crisp, clean sheets covering his s.h.i.+ft-clad body, and idly wondered how much of his life was a dream.

And then he wondered at a certain antiseptic smell...

Crisp linen? A s.h.i.+ft? And voices speaking... in German?

Switzerland! And Mesmer!

Harry's eyes snapped open; he clutched at his bedclothes and swung his legs to one side; he sat up. And his weakness at once belied any feelings of well-being. (Mind has only so much say over matter, after all.) He tried to stand up, swayed, w as at once grasped and gently lowered back to his hospita l bed.

'How long?' he asked then, looking at the doctor and two nurses who stood by his bed. Their concerned expressions immediately turned to smiles. And: Three days,' the Swiss doctor told him, in excellent English. 'And four to go before you can be up.

Exposure, we think. Despite that you seem in good condition, it has left you quite weak. But from now on, I think you should recover very nicely. Except-'

Harry looked at him inquiringly. 'Yes?'

'Oh, mere are one or two questions. You carried no doc.u.ments. We don't know who you are, or where you are staying. We think people might be worried about you. You are a tourist, am I right? You can perhaps help us with these enquiries?'

No, he couldn't. But then, he didn't have to. Tired,' he mumbled, letting himself sink into his pillows. 'Can't we talk later?'

'Of course, of course!' The doctor ushered the nurses out of the room, and at the door turned and said, 'I will come and talk to you later Mr... ?'

'Smith,' Harry told him. 'John Smith.'

'Smith,' said the other smiling. "Yes, a good old English name. Rest now, eat later, and perhaps then well talk.'

Bu t a moment after he left- -The Necroscope was scrabbling his clothes together from a wardrobe beside the window. And when he was sure he was leaving nothing behind ... then he, too, left ffl NOSTRAMADNESS!

The dead in their graves conversed - not with the Necr oscope , but about him - with each other, acr oss all the miles between, as they had learned to do through him.

How did it turn out? Harry's Ma was fearful still.

As well, and perhaps better, than I expected, Franz Anton Mesmer told her. For one thing, possibly the main thing, you were worried about the grip that this woman had on him?

Yes? Her anxiety was obvious.

Well, no more, said Mesmer. And then, more cautiously, At least, I think not.

And Sir Keenan Gormley, unable to control his excitement, joined in: You mean you've broken her spell?

One of them, Mesmer answered. I don't think I'm qualified - that is, I shouldn't have any legitimate, professional concern - about the other. That isn't for physicians or friends, nor even for a mother, but for Harry himself. And after all, a subject's will is still the most important factor. Harry wanted someone to kelp him find himself again. But as for his love for B.J. Mirlu - whether he should love her or not - surely that's for him to decide? Should I have weakened the post-hypnotic commands which he has accepted by giving him others that he can't possibly accept? I think not. And he does love her.

So what real good have you done? (Mary Keogh again, still worried 'to death.1) I discovered two blockages or lesions in the Necroscope's subconscious psyche, Mesmer answered. Two areas where, through the interference of outside agencies - through hypnotism or beguilement - his will has been subverted. But unlike me, whichever persons did this to him were utterly unscrupulous and powerful beyond reason! Marvellous hypnotists, both of them. And yes, I recognized the work of one at once.

B.J.! said Mary Keogh, bitterly.

332.Of course. The same girl who defeated me all those years ago. Ah, but this time the shoe is on the other foot!

Your son has been taken in and out of trance so frequently that the connection has been weakened to breaking point. And yes, you were quite right: he might well have been driven out of his mind by the truth, causing an abrupt interfacing of his several states. Indeed, 1 was witness to just such an interface!

Fortunately I was on hand, in mental contact with him, and was able to take some of the strain. But it is precisely because the balance is so delicate that I was able to do something more than that.

And Sir Keenan wanted to know. What, exactly?

There are... triggers, Mesmer explained. Key words that trip when Harry hears them spoken by B.J. Or at least they did, but not any longer. Now when B.J. tells him things that are not so, he will know it. And when she orders that which he wouldn't normally do, he won't obey, or if he does it will be of his own volition.

He'll be his own man? Mary Keogh's dead voice was lighter by several degrees.

Yes, and wo... Mesmer soun ded uncertain. And before they could question him: / said th at more than one person had interfered with Harry's mind- -I knew that! I've known it all along! Harry's Ma cried.

But Mesmer continued: And whoever the other person was... (The baffled shake of an incorporeal head). His commands are so deep-rooted that I simply can't reach them. They are locked in, they've never been relaxed, they've fused in position to become almost a part of Harry.

Do you know what they are? Sir Keenan sounded suspicious; the others sensed a frown, despite that his face was long gone into ashes. Do you have any idea what it is that's so restricting him?

I don't know. I couldn't get in, Mesmer admitted defeat. When I probed... why, the seal locked itself tighter still!

Anyway, Harry's Ma said after a moment, you did what you could, for which I'm thankful. And one other thing, Mesmer continued. / also planted an idea in his mind, one that we talked about previously: that he look back into his past and try to remember where things started to go wrong. That way it's possible he might yet discover for himself the ident.i.ty of whoever is responsible. It should at least provide him with a clue, or maybe even a suspect.

But as for now? (Sir Keenan again.) (Mesmer's shrug). As for now - we can only wait and see.

And as their conversation terminated and their metaphysical thoughts were drawn back to their own places, Mary Keogh wondered why Sir Keenan Gormley, ex-Head of E-Branch, was suddenly so quiet, so thoughtful, but no longer willing to share what he was thinking...