Wamphyri

‘Of course, my dear,' Gerenko smiled and nodded his wrinkled walnut head. He turned away, taking Dolgikh's elbow. ‘Come, Theo.'

Dolgikh shook himself loose, scowled at the girl. ‘You are very free with your insults.'

‘That is the correct way.' She spoke curtly. ‘Face to face and out with it. But your insults crawl like worms, and you keep them in the slime in your head!' And to Gerenko she added: ‘I can't work with him here.'

Gerenko looked at Dolgikh. ‘Well?'

Dolgikh's expression was ugly, but slowly he relaxed, shrugged. ‘Very well, my apologies, Fräulein Föener.' He deliberately avoided use of his customary ‘Comrade'; and when he looked her up and down one last time, that too was quite deliberate. ‘It's simply that I've always considered my thoughts private. And anyway, I'm only human.'

‘Barely!' she snapped, and at once returned to her work.

As Dolgikh followed Gerenko to his office, the Second in Command of E-Branch said, ‘That one's mind is very finely tuned, finely balanced. We must be careful not to -disturb it. However distasteful this may seem, Theo, you should never forget that any one of the espers here is worth ten of you.'

Dolgikh had pride. ‘Oh?' he growled. ‘Then why didn't Andropov ask you to send one of them to Italy, eh? Maybe you yourself, eh, Comrade?'

Gerenko smiled thinly. ‘Muscle occasionally has its advantages. That's why you went to Genoa, and it's why you're here now. I expect to have more work for you very soon. Work to your liking. But, Theo, be warned: so far you've done very well, so don't spoil it now. Our mutual, er, shall we say "superior", will be well pleased with you. But he would not be pleased if he thought you'd tried to impose your matter over our mind. Here at the Château Bronnitsy, its always the other way around — mind over matter!'

They climbed spiralling stone stairs in one of the Château's towers, and arrived at Gerenko's office. Before Gerenko it had housed Gregor Borowitz, and it was now Felix Krakovitch's seat of control; but Krakovitch was temporarily absent, and both Ivan Gerenko and Yuri Andropov intended that his absence should become permanent. This, too, puzzled Dolgikh.

‘In my time,' he said, taking a seat opposite Gerenko's desk, ‘I've been quite close to Comrade Andropov — or as close as a man can get. I've watched him rise, followed his rising star, you might say. In my experience, since the early days of E-Branch, there has been friction between the KGB and you espers. Yet now, with you, things are changing. What has Andropov got on you, Ivan?'

Gerenko's grin was that of a weasel. ‘He has nothing on me,' he answered. ‘But he does have something for me. You see, I have been cheated, Theo. Nature has robbed me. I would like to be a man of heroic proportions

- perhaps a man like you. But I'm stuck in this feeble shell. Women are not interested in me; men, while they cannot hurt me, consider me a freak. Only my mind has value, and my talent. The first has been useful to Felix Krakovitch: I've taken a great deal of the branch's burden off his shoulders. And the second is a subject for intense study by the parapsychologists here — they would all like

to have my, shall we say, guardian angel? Why, an army of men with my talent would be quite invulnerable!

‘So you see how important I am. And yet what am I but a shrunken little man, whose lifespan is destined to be short? And so while I live I want power. I want to be great, for however short a span. And because it will be short, I want it now.'

‘And with Krakovitch gone, you'll be the boss here.' Dolgikh nodded.

Gerenko smiled his withered smile. ‘That for a start. But then comes the integration of E-Branch and the KGB. Brezhnev would be against it, of course, but alas the Party Leader is rapidly becoming a mumbling, crumbling cretin. He can't last long. And Andropov, because he is strong, has many enemies. How long will he last, do you think? Which means that eventually, possibly, even probably —‘

‘You'll have it all!' Dolgikh could see the logic -of it. ‘But by then, surely, you too will have made enemies. Leaders always climb to the top over the bodies of dead leaders.'

‘Ah!' Gerenko's smile was sly, cold, and not entirely sane. ‘But this time it will be different. What do I care for enemies? Sticks and stones will not break my bones! And I shall weed them out, one by one, until there are no more. And I shall die small and wrinkled, but also great and very powerful. So whatever you do, Theo Dolgikh, make sure you're my friend, not my enemy. .

Dolgikh said nothing for a moment but let all that Gerenko had said sink in. The man was obviously a megalomaniac! Tactfully, Dolgikh changed the subject. ‘You said there'd likely be more work for me. What sort of work?'

‘As soon as we are sure that we can learn everything we desire to know from Alec Kyle, then Krakovitch, his man Gulharov, and the other British agent, Quint, will become quite expendable. At the moment, when Krakovitch wants something done, he speaks to me and I in turn pass on his request to Brezhnev. Not directly to Brezhnev but through one of his men — a mere lackey, but a powerful lackey. The Party Leader is keen on E-Branch and so Krakovitch usually gets what he wants. Witness this unheard of liaison between British and Soviet espers!

‘But of course I'm also working for Andropov. He, too, knows everything that is happening. And he has already instructed me that when the time comes you are the tool I shall throw-into Krakovitch's machinery. E-Branch has been soundly beaten, almost destroyed, by INTESP once before. Brezhnev wants to know how and why, and so does Andropov. We had a mighty weapon in Boris Dragosani, but their weapon, a youth called Harry Keogh, was mightier. What gave him his power? What were his powers? And right now: we know that with the aid of INTESP Krakovitch has destroyed something in Romania. I have been through Krakovitch's files and I think I know what he destroyed: the same thing which gave Dragosani his powers! Krakovitch sees it as a great evil, but I see it only as another tool. A powerful weapon. That is why the British are so eager to help Krakovitch:

the fool is systematically destroying a possible route for future Soviet supremacy!'

‘Then he's a traitor?' Dolgikh's eyes narrowed. The Soviet Union was all. Power struggles within the structure were only to be expected, but treachery of this sort was something else. ‘No.' Gerenko shook his head. ‘He's a dupe. Now listen: At this very moment Krakovitch, Gulharov and Quint are stalled at a crossing-point on the Moldavian horder. I organised that through Andropov. I know where they want to go, and very shortly I'll be sending you to deal with them there. When exactly rather depends on how much we get from Kyle. But in any case we must stop them from doing any more damage. Which means

that time is of the essence; they can't be stalled forever, and soon must be allowed to proceed. Also, they know the location of whatever it is they're seeking, and we do not. Not yet. Tomorrow morning you will be there to follow them to their destination, their ultimate destination. At least I hope so. .

Dolgikh frowned. ‘They've destroyed something, you say? And they'll do it again? What sort of something?'

‘If you had been in time to follow them into the Romanian hills, you'd probably have seen for yourself. But don't worry about it. Let it suffice that this time they mustn't succeed.'

As Gerenko finished speaking his telephone rang. He lifted it to his ear — and his expression at once became wary, alert. ‘Comrade Krakovitch!' he said. ‘I was begin-fling to worry about you. I had expected to hear from you before now. Are you in Chernovtsy?' He looked pointedly across his desk at Dolgikh.

Even from where he sat, Dolgikh could hear the angry, tinny clatter of Krakovitch's distant voice. Gerenko began to blink rapidly and a nervous tic jerked the corner of his mouth.