Necroscope V Deadspawn - By Brian Lumley Page 0,164

Möbius time, which is to say speculative time, and nothing was for certain. It was the reason why reading the future was so very hit and miss. For if in the real world anything contrary should happen to him between now and then, his departure simply wouldn't happen. Or possibly not. In other words - and despite the fact that he'd seen it - it was only something which might happen.

But probably, said Fa茅thor. And again he chuckled. So... they're driving you out, eh? No, Harry shrugged, I'm going of my own free will. Because if you stay they'll hunt you down and destroy you.

Because I will it, Harry repeated. You brought yourself into prominence, said Fa茅thor, and they looked at you - closely! Now they know you for what you are. All of these years you've been their hero, and now you're their worst nightmare come true. And so it's back to Starside. Well, good luck to you. But mind you look out for that son of yours. Why, the last time you were there he crippled you!

Before continuing their conversation, Harry very carefully shielded his mind. Only show Fa茅thor the tiniest crack in the door and he'd be in. Not only to spy on the Necroscope's most secret thoughts, but to lodge himself in his mind as a permanent tenant. It was the ancient vampire's one chance - his very last chance - for any sort of continuity other than this empty, endless speeding into the future.

And so, when Harry was satisfied that he'd made himself impregnable: Yes, my son crippled me, he agreed. Robbed me of my deadspeak, denied me access to the Möbius Continuum. It was easy for him then, because I was only a man. But now... as you see, I'm Wamphyri!

You go back to do battle with him? Fa茅thor hissed. Your own son?

If that's the only way. Harry shrugged again, mainly to disguise his lie. But it doesn't have to be a fight. Starside is a big place. Even bigger, now that the Wamphyri are dead or fled.

Hmmm! Fa茅thor mused. So you'll return to Starside, build yourself an aerie there, and if necessary do battle with your son for a piece of his territory. Is that it?

Possibly.

So why have you come to see me? What have I to do with it? If this is your plan, then go to it.

For long moments Harry was silent; finally he answered: But it was my thought that... you might like to come with me?

Fa茅thor's gasp - and the ensuing silence - was of stunned disbelief. Until, eventually: That I might like...?

To come with me, Harry said it again.

But: No, said Fa茅thor in a while, and Harry sensed the unbodied shake of his head. I can't credit this. It is - can only be - a trick! You who once fought so long and hard to keep me out, now invite me in? To be one with you in your new Wamphyri mind, body and -

Don't say soul! said Harry. Also, you have it wrong.

Eh? Fa茅thor was at once on his guard. But how can I have it wrong? To go with you from this... this hellish no-place into Starside is out of the question, unless it is as part of you. Here I am nothing, but if of your own free will you're now inviting my mind into yours...?

Initially, yes, said Harry. But this time you must agree to move out when I desire it. And without a struggle, without that I must use trickery, as last time.

Fa茅thor was flabbergasted. Move out to where?

Into the mind and body of some lesser man, some Traveller king or such, in Starside.

And finally Fa茅thor understood, or thought he did, and his deadspeak thoughts turned sour as vinegar. And so you are unworthy after all, he said then. And have been from the start. I used to lie in the earth in my place in Ploiesti and think: 'The Necroscope can have it all, everything, the world! Thibor was a ruffian, unworthy, but not so Harry. Janos was the scummy froth of my loins, beside which Harry has the consistency, the purity - or if not that, then at least the homogeneity - of cream. I shall make Harry my third and last son!' Yes, these were my thoughts, of which you were unworthy.

How come? said Harry. I mean, why do you insult me?

What? (astonishment, disbelief). Surely you mean why do I sorrow! But you could have been - could still