'Armstrong?' said Harry. 'You never performed a more worthy act in your e ntire life!'

'Still, I did it, and I am hiding it, and it bothers me.'

'Forget it!' Harry insisted. 'You may be doing it again, and sooner than y ou think. Tell me more about Lazarides.' Manolis nodded. 'He is purchasing an island. Well, a rock, in the Dodeca nese off Sirna. Amazing! I mean, what is that for an island? One small beach and a fang of rock jutting from the sea? But he plans a house there, on a g reat ledge on the rock. Again, there was once a Crusader tower there, a phar os. What he will do there is anybody's guesses. There is no water; everythin g will have to be brought in by boat; he will be one very lonely creature up there!'

'An aerie,' said Harry, 'or the next best thing. He still desires to be Wamph yri!'

'Eh?'

'Forget it. Goon.'

Again Manolis's shrug. 'He keeps a small private aeroplane, a Skyvan, o n Karpathos. There is a runway there now. He uses the plane for trips to At hens, Crete, elsewhere. Maybe even to Romania, eh? Which means that sometim es his boat may be found off Karpathos. Don't worry, I have a man on it. Ev ery day tourists fly out to Karpathos from Rhodes. They, too, use a Skyvan.

It is the flying matchbox! But very, very safe. The pilot will look for La zarides's boat. I expect his call any time . . .'

'Anything else?' Harry was still very cool, very pale. He didn't seem to have been touched by the sun.

'About Armstrong,' said Manolis. 'Five and a half years ago he and some American friends went on a trip somewhere in Europe . . . that's all I kno w about it, somewhere in Europe. There was an accident, a fall in the mount ains or some such, and some people were killed. Armstrong survived but he d idn't go back to America. Instead he ended up here, in Greece, and applied for the Greek citizenship. The next thing we know, he's working for Lazarid es.'

'And that's it?' Harry's gaunt, almost vacant expression hadn't changed.

That's it,' said Manolis. And: 'Oh, one other thing. I now have the authori zation to chase this Vrykoulakas dog to h.e.l.l, if I can find him!'

Darcy nodded. 'We didn't sleep much last night. Manolis spent a lot of t ime phoning Athens. We pushed the drugs side of this thing just as hard as w e could. So now we can use all the force that's necessary to apprehend and s earch Lazarides and his lot.'

'If we can find them,' Harry echoed Manolis.

'Well, two or three of them we can find, for sure!' said the Greek. 'On Hal ki, where they're digging in those ruins.'

Again Harry's nod. "That will be as good a place as any to start, yes. I'd like to see this fang of rock in the Dodecanese, too. All right, and now I'll t ell you what I've discovered, and you'll see for yourselves how it all fits tog ether. But I warn you now, it's an incredible story.'

He told it all and they sat fascinated to the end. 'And so now I have my deadspeak back,' he finished off, 'which is one step in the right direction, at lea st.'

'You are the cool one,' Manolis told him. 'I thought so the first time I met you. You talk about steps in the right direction, and all this time Sandra, you r lover -'

'Manolis,' Harry stopped him. 'No man has lost more than I have. No, I'm not being a martyr, I'm just stating a fact. It started when I was a kid an d it hasn't stopped yet. I've lost just about every person I ever loved. I'v e even lost my son in another world, to another creed: this same d.a.m.ned cree d, vampirism! And the more you lose, the more hardened you get to it. Ask an y habitual gambler. They don't play to win but to lose. They used to play to win, but now when they win they just go right on back to the tables.'

'Harry,' Darcy took his arm, 'ease up.'

But Harry shook him off. 'Let me finish.' And he turned back to Manolis.

'Well, I used to play to win, too. But it's a h.e.l.l of a game where all the ca rds are stacked against you. You want me to cry over Sandra? Maybe I will, la ter. You want me to go to pieces, to show that I'm a good guy? But what good will I be in all of this if I go to pieces? I loved Sandra, yes, I think. But already it's too late to do anything about it. She's just one more thing tha t I've lost. It's the only way I can look at it and still go on. Except now I may be starting to win again. We may be starting to win again. Not Sandra, n o, for she's dead. And if she isn't, then she'd be better off. I know this Ja nos Ferenczy now, and I know what I'm talking about. You call me cold, but yo u don't know how I'm burning up inside. Now I'll ask you to do me a favour: s top worrying about how you see things. Stop worrying about Sandra. It's too l ate. This is a war and she was a casualty. What we have to do now is start hi tting back, while we still have a chance!'

For long moments Manolis said nothing. Then: 'My friend,' he said, very softly, 'you are wound up very tight. You bear a great weight on your should ers, and I am a great fool. I cannot hope to know what it is like for you, o r even anything about you. You are not the ordinary man, and I had no right to speak the way I did or think the things I have thought.'

Harry sat very still, just looking at the Greek; and slowly Manolis watch ed the Necroscope's soulful eyes turn to liquid. Before they could spill over , Harry stood up and kicked his chair away, and went unsteadily to the bathro om . . .

Later: 'What I hate especially about this,' said Harry, 'is that he's laughing at us - at all of us, at Mankind - and perhaps at me in particular. It's his vam pire ego. He calls himself Lazarides, after the Biblical Lazarus, raised up fr om the dead by Christ. Depending on your beliefs that's a blasphemy in itself.

But he doesn't stop there. Just to rub it in and make his point he calls his boat by the same name! He dares us to discover him, yells: "Hey, look, I'm bac k!" He breaks the first rule of vampires and makes himself prominent, in sever al ways. And I think he does it deliberately.'

'But why?' said Darcy.

'Because he can afford to!' Harry answered. 'Because people no longer be lieve in vampires. No, I don't mean us but people in general. In this day an d age he can afford to be prominent, because to a point he's safe from the m a.s.ses. But he also does it because he knows that the people who do believe - and they are the ones he's chiefly interested in, the dangerous ones, you, me, E-Branch, and any other friends - will go up against him.'

'You mean he ... he wants a showdown?'

'Oh yes, for he's seen the future! That's the thing he was best at, and it's how he thwarted Faethor. He knows we have to have a showdown, so he's g uiding events his way, to give himself every advantage. He'll use my own dev ices against me, and against anyone who is with me. He has Ken Layard, and s o can locate any one of us more or less at will. He crippled Trevor Jordan s o that he'd be no use to us; and he's taken Sandra not out of spite or greed or l.u.s.t but the better to know me, because then he'll not only know my stre ngths but also my weaknesses. As for last night: he sent his thrall Armstron g to test you and possibly destroy you, so as to deny me the use of one of m y last crutches.'

'But if he can see the future, wouldn't he know we'd get Armstrong?' Mano lis used his policeman's logic. 'In which case, why simply sacrifice him like that?'

'A test,' Harry answered, 'like I said. He wouldn't see it as a sacrifi ce. Vampires have no friends, only thralls. And anyway, Armstrong was only one of Janos's players; he has plenty more. Ken Layard, for example, who ca n do anything Armstrong could do and a lot more. But I understand your ques tion: why provoke a skirmish you can't win, right?'

'Right.'

Harry shook his head. 'The future isn't like that,' he said. 'It isn't e asily read, never safely, and there's no way to avoid it. And, it must alway s be remembered, nothing is certain until it has happened. There was a man, a Russian esper, called Igor Vlady. I met him once in the Mobius Continuum.

In life he'd been a prognosticator, he read the future. And when he was dead he kept right on doing it, eventually to become a master of future and past time. Where all s.p.a.ce was an open book to Mobius, all time was Vlady's play ground. Incorporeal, he wandered the timestream forever. Vlady told me that in life he had always held his own future inviolable: he wouldn't read it, f elt that to do so would be to tempt fate. He didn't want to know how or when his time would come, for he knew that he'd only worry about it as it loomed ever closer. Eventually, in a moment of uncertainty and fear, he broke his own rule and forecast his own death. He believed he knew from which quarter it was coming, and fled to avoid it. But he was wrong and fled into it! He w as like a man crossing railway tracks, who sees a train coming and jumps to avoid it - into the path of another train.'

Darcy said: 'You mean, Janos can't trust what he reads of the future?'

'He can trust it only to a point. He sees only the wide scheme of things, not the fine details. And whatever he sees, he knows he can't avoid it. For example: he knew Faethor would destroy him, but saw beyond it to a time when he'd be back. He couldn't stop Faethor and didn't really try to, for the inev itable was by definition inescapable, but he could and did make certain of hi s return.'

Manolis had kept up with all of this as best he could, but now he began t o feel something of the hopelessness of it. And he asked: 'But how can you ev en think to beat this creature? He would seem to me . . . invincible!'

Harry smiled a strange, grim smile. 'Invincible? I'm not so sure about t hat. But I'm sure he wants us to think he is! Ask yourself this: if he's inv incible, why does he concern himself with us? And why is he so worried about me? No, Igor Vlady was right: the future is never certain, and only time ca n tell. And anyway, what difference does it make? If I don't seek him out, h e'll only come looking for me.' He nodded. 'A showdown, yes, it's coming. An d for now Janos is pulling the strings. We can only hope that in his manipul ations he'll overstep himself and make the same mistake Igor Vlady made . .

. and step in front of a train.'

At 8:05 p.m. the call Manolis was expecting from the pilot of the Rhode s-Karpathos Skyvan materialized; it transpired that Jianni Lazarides's airc raft, piloted by a man in his employ, had taken off at 3:00 a.m. from the K arpathos airstrip, destination unknown, with Lazarides himself aboard - acc ompanied by a man and woman answering Sandra's and Ken Layard's description s!

Harry had steeled himself to expect something of the sort and wasn't so badly shocked, but he was puzzled. 'How do you mean, destination unknown?

Wouldn't the aircraft require some sort of clearance? Didn't he log himself out, go through customs, or whatever they have to do?'

Manolis gave a snort. 'I say again, this is Greece. And Karpathos is a sm all island. The airport is ... a shack! It has only existed for a year or two , and wouldn't be there at all if not for the tourists. But, did you say cust oms? Hah! Someone to stamp your pa.s.sport if you're a foreigner coming in, may be, but not if you're Greek and going out! And at 3:00 in the morning - why, it amazes me that anyone has even bothered to remember the time so precisely!

'Stymied,' said Darcy. 'He could have gone anywhere.'

Harry shook his head. 'No, I can find him. The problem is, it may not be so easy for me to go where he's gone. We'll jump that one when we reach i t. Meanwhile, I have to speak to Armstrong.'

That caught both Manolis and Darcy off balance - for a moment. Darcy wa s the first to recover, for he'd seen the Necroscope at work before. 'You w ant us to take you to him?'

'Yes, and right now. Not that I think time is any longer of the essence, f or I don't. Wheels have been set in motion and everything will eventually come to a head, I'm sure. But if all I had to do was sit twiddling my thumbs ... I think I'd go mad.'

Manolis had caught up. 'Are you saying you're going to speak to a dead m an?'

Harry nodded. 'Yes, at the incinerator. That's where he is and where he'l l always be, from now on.'

'And . . . and he'll talk to you?'

'It doesn't trouble the dead to talk to me,' said Harry. 'Armstrong's no lo nger in thrall to Janos. He might even be eager to square things. And later, to night, then there's someone else I must try to reach.'

'Mobius?' Darcy wondered.

'The same,' Harry nodded. 'A vampire tangled my mind and took away my deadspeak, and it took another vampire to put the mess to rights. But the one who caused the damage was also a great mathematician: my son, who inhe rited his talents from me. And while he was in my mind he also closed cert ain doors, so that now I'm' innumerate. Well, if Faethor could do what he did, maybe Mobius can restore that other talent of mine. If so, then Janos gets a real run for his money.'

The incinerator was still working. A young Greek labourer on overtime s hovelled timber waste into the red and yellow maw of a glaring, roaring bea st, while overhead, smoke shot with dying sparks billowed blackly from a hi gh chimney. Darcy and Manolis stood to one side watching the stoker at work , and Harry sat on a crate a little apart from them, his strange eyes stari ng and almost vacant. His mind, however, was anything but vacant, and the N ecroscope's every instinct a.s.sured him that Seth Armstrong's spirit was her e. Indeed, he could hear its moaning cries.

Armstrong, Harry said, but softly, you're out of it now. You've been rele ased. Why all the sorrow?

The moaning and sobbing stopped at once, and in another moment: Harry Keogh? Armstrong's dead voice was full of astonishment and disbelief. Yo u'd talk to me?

Oh, I've talked to a lot worse than you, Seth, Harry told him. And anywa y, it's my guess you were just another victim, like so many others. I don't think you could help what you'd become.

I couldn't, oh I couldn't! the other answered, with obvious relief. For five and a half long years I was just a ...a fly in his web. He was my master; I w as in thrall to him; nothing I did was of my own free will.

I know, Harry told him, but they like to pretend it is. I suppose that even k nowing it's a lie, still it's the one salve to their conscience: that you are the irs of your own free will.

Conscience? Armstrong's spirit was bitter. Don't make me laugh, Harry . Creatures such as Janos Ferenczy never suffered such common complaints!

You're glad to be free of him, then? So why the remorse? You're as one with the teeming dead now. Which, as so many of them have told me, isn't as bad as you might think.

Oh? said Armstrong. And do you honestly believe the dead will wish any thing to do with me?

Harry thought about it a moment, then said: Two of them, at least, that I can think of. And probably more. What of your parents, Seth?

He sensed the other's nod. Dead some time ago, yes. But. . . do you think .

I think that when you've got yourself together, it might be a good idea to try and reach them, said Harry. As for the Great Majority: who can say?

Maybe they won't come down on you as hard as you think. Certainly I can pu t in a good word for you.

And you'd do that?

Why don't you ask the dead about me, said Harry, when the time comes? I t hink they'll tell you I'm not such a bad sort. But until then there's a favou r you could do for me.

Armstrong's thoughts turned bitter again. Nothing for nothing, eh? Even h ere.

No, you've got it all wrong, Seth, said Harry. Turn me down, it will mak e no difference. I'll still ask them to go easy on you. You're dead and burn ed away, and as all the rest of them know, you can't be any more punished th an that.

What is it you want to know?

Janos has gone now, Harry told him, out of Rhodes, probably out of the islands. And he took the woman - I suppose you'd say my woman - with him.

I want to know where he is.

She's the bait in his trap, I suppose you know that?

Oh, yes, I know. But I'd go after him anyway.

Then go to Romania.

Harry groaned. It was the worst possible scenario. I've just been to Roman ia, he said. It won't be so easy a second time.

Nevertheless, that's where he is. His castle in the mountain heights over Halmagiu. He said you were his only living enemy and the greatest possible ene my, and that when he met you it must be there, on his terms and in his territory. He read it that way, and that's how he'll play it. But Harry . . . I hope you didn't love that girl.

Don't! Harry gritted his teeth, shook his head, rejected the unthinkable pictures Armstrong's words had conjured. Instinctive reactions to something he'd hoped would not be mentioned. Don't tell me about that.

Armstrong was silent, but the Necroscope could sense his sympathy and e ven his ... remorse? And suddenly Harry knew. He'd suspected it might be so , but had tried to keep it out of his mind. Until now. It was you who took her for him, right?

Armstrong was sobbing again. It changes everything, doesn't it? he said. B ut it was a statement of fact, not a question. Yes, he got into her mind, and I took her to him.

Harry didn't rave, didn't curse, but simply stood up and walked away, wi th his head down.

Darcy and Manolis came after him, looked at him and at each other, and asked no questions. Behind them the incinerator's furnace hissed and roar ed, and a man sobbed rackingly, but only Harry Keogh could hear him.

And despite his promises, Harry didn't care . . .

Later, back at the hotel where Harry had arranged for a room of his ow n, he tried to contact Mobius. He reached out his Necroscope's awareness t o a place he knew well indeed: the graveyard in Leipzig where August Ferdi nand Mobius's mortal remains had lain buried for one hundred and twenty ye ars, but from which his mathematician's and astronomer's immortal mind had gone out to explore the universe. And: Sir? said Harry, showing his usual respect. August? It's me, Harry Keogh.

I know it's been some time since I was in touch, but I'd hoped I could talk to you again.

He waited but there was no response, just an aching void. It was about what he'd expected: the man who had taught him how to venture into and use an otherwise entirely conjectural fifth dimension was out there even now, d oing his own thing along the Mobius way. Harry couldn't tell how long he'd been away, or even hazard a guess as to when he was likely to be back, if h e would be back.

But if Harry was ever to achieve a balance of power with Janos, Mobius was his one hope. And so he kept trying: for an hour, then two, until final ly Darcy came knocking at his door. 'Any luck?' he said, when the Necroscop e opened the door for him.

Harry shook his head. And perhaps surprisingly, in the circ.u.mstances: 'I'm hungry,' he said.

They all three ate out, at a taverna of Manolis's recommendation; and ther e, during the course of their meal, Harry outlined a possible course of action as he saw it: 'Manolis,' he said, 'I need to get into Hungary. Budapest initially, and f rom there to Halmagiu across the border. That's a distance of about one hundre d and fifty miles. Once I'm in I can travel by road or rail; I'll be a "touris t", of course. As for getting across the border into Romania, I'm not sure. I can work on that when I get there. How long will it take to fix me up with doc umentation?'

Manolis shrugged. 'You don't need any. Your English pa.s.sport says you'r e an "author"; it has a Greek entry stamp; quite obviously you are the genu ine tourist, or perhaps the author doing his research. You can simply fly t o Budapest via Athens. Tomorrow, if you wish it. No problem.'

'As simple as that?'

'Hungary is not Romania. The restrictions are less severe. In fact Roman ians are fleeing to Hungary every day. When will you go?'

'Three or four days,' Harry answered. 'As soon as we're finished up here.

But as I've said before, where Janos is concerned time is no longer of the e ssence. I believe he'll simply hole up in the Transylvanian mountains and wai t for me. He knows I'll come eventually.'

Manolis looked at him, and looked away. Time not of the essence,' the Gr eek mumbled, shaking his head a little.

'All right,' said Harry at once, a harsh, unaccustomed edge to his voice, 'and I know what's bothering you. Look, I'll try to explain as simply as possi ble. And then for Christ's sake and mine both let's drop it! Either Janos has already vampirized Sandra or he hasn't. If he hasn't, then he's keeping her as his ace in the hole, in case I come up with something unexpected, in which ca se she'll be a bargaining point. But that's only the way I hope it is, not the way I think it is. And if he has changed her . . . then given only half a cha nce I'll do my level best to kill her! For her sake. But right now if I concen trate on Sandra to the exclusion of everything else, then obviously I won't be able to think straight. And we all of us need to think straight. Now, I know you think I'm a cold one, Manolis, but is everything understood?'