stop a crazed vampire,' I said. 'The most powerful magician in the world at the present time. It's . . . it's going to get pretty dangerous around here . . .'

'Are we at Baikonur then?' Las asked, not frightened in the least. 'Now that's what I call magic, that's great! But did we really have to teleport through the drains?'

I just waved a hand at him despairingly. Then I focused intently on what I could hear inside me. Yes, Gesar was somewhere close by, and Zabulon . . . and Svetlana . . . and hundreds, thousands of Others. They were waiting.

They were counting on me.

'How can I help?' Las asked. 'Maybe I could look for some aspen stakes? By the way, they make matches out of genuine aspen, did you know that? I always wondered why it had to be aspen, does it really burn better than anything else? But now I realise it's for fighting vampires. Sharpen a dozen matches . . .'

I looked at Las.

He spread his arms apologetically.

'All right, all right . . . I'm only trying to be helpful.'

I walked across to the door of the washroom and looked out. A long corridor, daylight lamps, no windows. At the end was a man in uniform with a pistol on his belt. A guard? Yes, there had to be security guards here. Even these days.

Only why was the guard frozen in such a stiff, awkward pose?

I went out into the corridor and moved towards the soldier. I called quietly:

'Excuse me, do you mind if I ask you something?'

The guard didn't mind. He was staring into space – and smiling. A young man, not yet thirty. Absolutely rigid. And very pale.

I pressed my fingers against his carotid artery – I could just barely feel the pulse. The bite marks were almost invisible, there were just a few small drops of blood on the collar. Kostya must have been drained after that exit he'd made. He'd been in need of refreshment, and there hadn't been any cats around . . .

But if the soldier was still alive, there was a chance he would make it.

I took his pistol out of the holster – it looked like he must have been reaching for it when the vampire's command made him freeze – and carefully laid him out on the floor. Let him rest. Then I turned round.

Of course, Las had followed me. And now he was gazing at the motionless soldier.

'Can you use a gun?' I asked.

'I'll give it a try.'

'If you have to, aim for the head and the heart. If you hit him, it might just slow him down.'

Naturally, I was under no illusions. Even if Las emptied the entire clip into Kostya, which was unlikely enough, bullets wouldn't stop a Higher Vampire. But at least it gave Las something to do.

I just hoped he wouldn't get the jitters and shoot me in the back.

Finding Kostya wasn't hard, even without using magic. We came across another three men – a guard and two civilians – who were in a trance and had been bitten. Kostya must have been moving in that vampire style that becomes too fast for the eye to follow, when feeding takes no more than ten seconds.

'Will they become vampires now?' Las asked me.

'Only if he wanted them to. And they agreed.'

'I didn't think there was any choice.'

'There's always a choice,' I said, opening yet another door.

I realised we'd arrived.

It was a spacious, brightly lit hall, full of people. At least twenty men. The cosmonauts were here – our captain, and the American, and the space tourist, a German chocolate manufacturer.

They were all in a state of blissful trance. Apart from two technicians in white coats, that is, whose eyes were vacant, but whose hands were moving with their customary skill as they helped Kostya put on a spacesuit. It wasn't an easy job – flight suits are made to measure, and Kostya was a bit taller than the German.

The unfortunate tourist, stripped naked – Kostya hadn't even been worried about putting on his underwear – was sitting at one side, sucking on his index finger.

'I've only got two or three minutes,' Kostya said cheerfully. 'So don't try to stop me, Anton. Get in my way and I'll kill you.'

My appearance was no surprise to him, of course.

'They won't let the rocket take off,' I said. 'What were you expecting? The Higher Ones know what you're planning.'

'They'll let it go, they have no