Necroscope V Deadspawn - By Brian Lumley Page 0,120

him, denied expression when he'd fled from the two policemen watching Johnny Pound's flat.

The reason Harry chose to emerge from the Möbius Continuum into the bushes on the far side of the river and not directly into the house was simple: when he'd read the minds of those plain-clothes policemen in Darlington, he'd plainly seen that they were expecting him. Indeed, someone had told the man with the gun that Harry might be dangerous. Obviously E-Branch must have alerted them to the possibility of him showing up. So ... whatever Darcy Clarke had told the Branch about him, it hadn't cut any ice. They weren't having any.

And if they were looking out for him in Darlington, plainly it wouldn't take long before they were doing it here, too. He'd scared off Paxton (for the moment, anyway) but Paxton was only one of them and untypical of the species. So from now on he would have to check locations very carefully before venturing into what were previously 'safe' places. It all went to reinforce the Necroscope's feeling of claustrophobia, a doom-laden sensation of space - Möbius space included - narrowing down for him. To say nothing of time.

And now, to discover that Trevor Jordan was also afraid of him, of what Harry might do to him ... it was too much.

The dead - even Möbius himself - had turned against him; his mother had become worn out and left him; there was no one in the world, neither alive nor dead, who had anything good to say on his behalf. And this was the world, and the race, which he had fought so long and so hard for. Not even his own race. Not any longer.

Harry stepped through a Möbius door into a dark corridor of the house across the river and silently commenced to climb the stairs to his own bedroom. Suddenly he was tired; his cares seemed too great; sleep would be curative, and ... to hell with everything! Let the future care for itself.

But Jordan's voice stopped him when he was only halfway up the first flight: 'Harry?' The telepath looked up at him from the foot of the stairs. Trevor Jordan, who could read the Necroscope's mind as easily as Harry read his. 'I ... shouldn't have been thinking those things.'

Harry nodded. 'And I shouldn't have overheard you. Anyway, don't worry about it. You did your bit for me and did it well, and I'm grateful. And it won't be so bad being alone, for I've been alone before. So if you want to go, then go - go now! For let's face it, I'm losing more and more control to this thing, and leaving now might be the safest thing to do.'

Jordan shook his head. 'Not while the whole world's against you, Harry. I won't leave you yet.'

Harry shrugged and turned away, and continued to climb the stairs. 'As you wish, but don't leave it too long...'
Part Three Chapter 4
4

Dreams...

The night was still young when Harry laid his head on the pillow, but the moon was up and the stars were bright, and it was his time. His senses were no longer strong in daylight, but in the dark of the night they were sensitive as never before. Even those which governed or were governed by his subconscious mind. And his dreams were stronger, too.

He dreamed first about Möbius and sensed that it was more than an ordinary dream. The long-dead mathematician came and sat on his bed, and while his face and form were indistinct, his deadspeak voice was as sharp and no-nonsense as ever.

The last time we can talk, Harry - in this world, anyway.

Are you sure you want to? the Necroscope answered. It seems I can't help giving people a bad time lately.

The vague, weightless figure of Möbius nodded. Yes, but we both know that's not you. That's why I've chosen to come to you now, while your dreams are still your own.

Are they?

I think so. Certainly you sound more like the Harry I used to know.

Harry relaxed a little, sighed and sank down in his bed. So what is it you want to talk about?

The other places, Harry. The other worlds.

My cone-shaped parallel dimensions? The Necroscope gave a wry, apologetic shrug. They were mainly bluff: I argued for argument's sake. We were practising, my vampire and I.

That's as it may be, Möbius answered, but bluff or none you were right anyway. Your intuition, Harry. The only thing your vision didn't take into