NECROM

Gibson looked on in admiration. This was one hell of a woman. "Useful thing, that."

Nephredana nodded. "My passkey. Help me push this door open."

The door opened on a small stone platform from which another set of steps led down, curving around the outside wall of a circular chamber that went even deeper into the earth, almost like a huge shaft or well. The word "bowels" sprang into Gibson's mind. This was the closest to the bowels of the Earth that he had ever been. The smell was definitely a stench now. Except that, once inside the door, there was a warm musky quality to it that almost seemed alive.

Gibson peered over the edge of the steps. He could see a light at the bottom of the shaft, a luridly poisonous green glow that also seemed to be the source of the stench. "What is that thing?"

"That's Balg."

"Balg's a bunch of glowing toxic radiation in the bottom of a pit?"

"I guess you'd call Balg an entity."

Gibson grunted. "Two entities in one day is at least one over my limit. Is it safe?"

"Not in the least."

"So what the fuck are we doing here?"

"It can't come out of the shaft. It's pretty well penned up."

"I have your word on that?"

"In the elder days, Balg was vanquished by Galmesh and bound outside of the time stream. Over the millennia, though, a small part of him began to intrude into this dimension. The original house on this sight was built around the intrusion. Subsequent owners have put in a lot of work attempting to set free Balg in his entirety. Verdon Raus is only the latest in a long line."

"You 're telling me that Raus is trying to let this thing loose?"

"He believes that he can control it for his own ends."

"Can he?"

"He doesn't have a prayer."

Gibson held up a hand. "Wait a minute. Let's just back up here. I thought that this Raus dealt in newspapers and TV stations, was some kind of William Randolph Hearst." He nodded toward the glow in the pit. "You're telling me that, when he gets home from a hard day's moguling, he messes around with this H. P. Lovecraft shit?"

"Verdon Raus is a very complex individual. Shall we go a little closer?"

"Do we have to?"

Nephredana sighed. "Come on, Gibson. Live dangerously."

Gibson followed Nephredana down the stairs with serious trepidation. The stairs had no banister or safety railing on the outside, nothing but a long drop to Balg. Gibson didn't like heights at the best of times, and when they came with a dangerous glowing entity at the bottom, they were infinitely worse.

After descending for forty or fifty feet, with the glow of Balg becoming brighter by the foot, the steps terminated in a circular flag-stoned platform in the center of which was sunk the final shaft that contained Balg, or, at least, the portion of Balg that had made it into this dimension. Gibson noticed that a number of steel rings were set into the stonework right at the edge of this deepset well. Gibson glanced at them and then at Nephredana, whose face had taken on a ghoulish aspect now that it was lit green from below. "What are these for? The human sacrifices?"

Nephredana scarcely bothered to look. "Probably."

Gibson took a quick step back. "You're kidding me?"

Nephredana shook her head. "Balg feeds mainly on psychic energy, so I imagine a good few of those who've been messing with him over the years would have tried it. I've found that it never takes humans very long to get around to sacrificing their own kind. I guess it's the attraction of the ultimate."

"Death-moment energy physics?"

"You got it."

There was a strange echoing noise from down inside the shaft and a sudden rush of the foul-smelling air. Gibson turned away. It was as though Balg had detected their presence. "Are you sure that thing can't climb out of the well?"

"Look down there."

"Must I?"

"Go ahead. It won't hurt you."

Gibson advanced cautiously to the edge and peered down. It was the act of looking into a green hell. His overwhelming instinct was to get away from Balg and out of his subterranean vault as fast as possible.

Nephredana was standing behind him. "What do you see?"

"Balg. Isn't that enough?"

"Be precise."

Gibson gritted his teeth. "A green glow that looks radioactive with a kind of white mist covering it."

"Look at the mist."

Gibson looked again. He could just make out lines of red light running through the mist. "Are those lasers?"

"Raus thinks it's his final defense against Balg."

"I didn't think they had lasers here. Shit, they don't even have color TV."

"They don't have lasers here. He's had a little outside help. I suspect your chums in the streamheat."

"Isn't that against the Prime Directive or something? Not giving advanced technology to a culture that it hasn't developed itself?"

Nephredana smiled. "Actually that's Star Trek, but the same principle applies."

Gibson looked back up the steps. "I think I've seen enough of this place. The stink is starting to get to me."

Nephredana nodded. "Balg isn't the most attractive of beings."

As they turned to leave, Gibson noticed that there was a small, dark alcove set beneath the curve of the steps where they rose from the platform. It appeared to contain racks of devices that, as far as he could see, had the sole common purpose of inflicting pain on various specific areas of the human body.

He quickly pointed the stuff out to Nephredana. "Is that what I think it is?"

Nephredana didn't seem particularly concerned. "What else would it be?"

"You mean he tortures his victims before he feeds them to Balg?"

"Once you get started in the sacrifice business, the rest pretty much follows."

Gibson didn't wait any longer. He was climbing the steps. "That's it, I'm out of here."

Nephredana followed without comment. Unfortunately, as they approached the door there were sounds from the other side.

Gibson looked round in alarm. "Christ, what do we do now?"

Nephredana was already out of her high heels and heading back down the stairs in silent stockinged feet.

She turned and hissed at Gibson. "Come on!"

"Where do we go?'

"The alcove, we can hide in there. It's probably Raus coming to show his pet to some selected guests."

There was the sound of keys in the door. Gibson gave thanks that Nephredana had had the foresight to relock the doors behind them. The alcove was small, and Gibson wasn't keen on taking refuge in a torturer's tool locker, but it was a case of needs must. It was far from being the ideal hiding place. There was hardly enough room for two people in among the various steel and leather appliances, and the glow from Balg was so intense on that level that they hardly had even the protection of darkness.

Gibson whispered urgently to Nephredana. "Can't you put some whammy on them so we can slip away?"

Nephredana shook her head. "Too risky with Balg just below us. Any influence could too easily backfire. Balg's all random surplus energy and no smarts. A hex could trigger all manner of ugly shit."

Gibson was about to protest that they were in all manner of ugly shit already when the sound of footsteps and voices came from the stairs above. Nephredana put a silent finger to her lips. Gibson suddenly recognized one of the voices. It was Smith.

"… despite that, Verdon, this is still a very dangerous experiment. If that thing should get loose before we are able to control it…"

What in hell was she doing down here and what kind of deal was going down between Raus and the streamheat?

The voices and footsteps reached the platform, and Gibson's horror was multiplied a hundredfold when he risked a peek around the edge of the alcove. Seven people had come through the door, and now they stood just a few yards from where he was hiding, black shapes against the green glow from the shaft. To his horror, he recognized four out of seven: in addition to Smith, the party included Raus, French, and the man who looked like Sebastian Rampton, If this was a parallel Rampton, it seemed that he was on a pretty much parallel trip. Two of Raus's tuxedoed goons brought up the rear. They were holding up a young woman who sagged between them, either helplessly drunk or drugged. Somewhere along the line, she had lost her dress, and she was now down to torn black lingerie that hadn't been too demure in the first place. Her head lolled, and every few seconds she was consumed by helpless giggles. In a moment of absolute, dark, crystal clarity, Gibson knew what was going to happen to the girl. He tensed but Nephredana put a restraining hand on his arm. It might be a grand gesture to leap out and try and save the girl, but it would also be suicidal. There was no point in sacrificing himself for some anonymous party girl. It was ultimately cold but wholly logical.