bl.necroscope2-第60部分

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　knowledge；　absorbing　the　substance　of　his　id。　Soon　Harry　must　make　a　permanent　break。　But　how？　To　where？　What　would　be　left　of　him；　he　wondered；　if　he　were　pletely　absorbed？　Would　there　be　anything　left　at　all？
　Or　would　he　simply　cease　to　be　except　as　the　future　esoteric　talent　of　his　own　son？
　Using　the　M？bius　continuum；　Harry　could　always　plumb　the　future　to　find　the　answers　to　these　questions。　He　preferred　not　to　know　all　of　the　answers；　however；　for　the　future　seemed　somehow　inviolable。　It　wasn't　that　he　would　feel　a　cheat　but　rather　that　he　doubted　the　wisdom　of　knowing　the　future。
　For　like　the　past；　the　future　was　fixed；　if　Harry　saw　something　he　didn't　like；　would　he　try　to　avoid　it？　Of　course　he　would；　even　knowing　it　was　unavoidable。　Which　could　only　plicate　his　weird　existence　more　yet！
　The　one　single　glimpse　he　would　allow　himself　would　be　to　discover　if　indeed　he　had　any　future　at　all。　Which　for　Harry　Keogh　was　the　very　simplest　of　exercises。
　Still　fighting　his　son's　attraction；　he　found　a　future　door　and　opened　it；　gazed　out　upon　the　ever　expanding　future。　Against　the　subtly　shifting　darkness　of　the　fourth　dimension；　Earth's　myriad　human　life…lines　of　neon　blue　shot　away　into　a　sapphire　haze；　defining　the　length　of　lives　that　were　and　lives　still　to　e。　Harry's　line　sped　out　from　his　own　incorporeal　being…from　his　mind；　he　supposed　…and　wound　away　apparently　interminably。　But　he　saw　that　just　beyond　the　M？bius　door　it　took　on　a　course　lying　parallel　to　a　second　thread；　like　the　twin　strips　of　a　motorway　with　a　central　verge　or　barrier。　And　this　second　life…line；　Harry　supposed；　must　belong　to　Harry　Jnr。
　He　launched　himself　from　the　door　and　traversed　future　time；　following　his　own　and　the　infant　Harry's　threads。　Faster　than　the　life…lines　themselves；　he　propelled　himself　into　the　near　future。　He　witnessed　and　was　saddened　by　the　termination　of　many　blue　threads；　which　simply　dimmed　and　went　out；　for　he　knew　that　these　were　deaths；　and　he　saw　others　burst　brightly　into　existence　like　stars；　then　extend　themselves　into　brilliant　neon　filaments；　and　knew　that　these　were　births；　new　lives。　And　so　he　forged　a　little　way　forward。　Time　was　briefly　furrowed　in　his　wake　like　the　sea　behind　a　forging　ship；　before　closing　in　and　sealing　itself　once　more。
　Suddenly；　despite　the　fact　that　Harry　was　without　body；　he　felt　an　icy　blast　blowing　on　him　from　the　side。　It　could　hardly　be　a　physical　chill　and　must　therefore　be　of　the　psyche。　Sure　enough；　away　out　across　the　panorama　of　speeding　life…lines；　he　spied　one　that　was　as　different　as　a　shark　in　a　school　of　tuna。　For　this　one　was　scarlet…the　mark　of　a　vampire！
　And　quite　deliberately；　it　was　angling　in　towards　his　and　Harry　Jnr's　threads！　Harry　knew　panic。　The　scarlet　life…line　drifted　closer；　at　any　moment　it　must　converge　with　his　and　the　infant's。　Then　…Harry　Jnr's　life…thread　abruptly　veered　away　from　his　father's；　raced　off　at　a　tangent　on　its　own　amidst　an　ocean　of　weaving　blue　lines。　And　the　thread　of　Harry　Snr　followed　suit；　avoiding　the　vampire　thread's　thrust　and　turning　desperately　away。　The　action　had　looked　for　all　the　world　like　the　manoeuvring　of　drivers　on　some　otherworldly　race　track。　But　the　last　move　had　been　blind；　almost　instinctive；　and　Harry's　life…thread　seemed　now　to　careen；　out　of　control；　across　the　skein　of　future　time。
　Then；　in　another　moment；　Harry　witnessed　and　indeed　was　party　to　the　impossible…a　collision！　Another　blue　life…thread；　dimming；　crumbling；　disintegrating；　converged　with　his　out　of　nowhere。　The　two　seemed　to　bend　towards　each　other　as　by　some　mutual　attraction；　before　slamming　together　in　a　neon　blaze　that　was　much　brighter　and　speeding　on　as　one　thread。　Briefly　Harry　felt　the　presence…or　the　faint；　fading　echo…of　another　mind　superimposed　on　his　own。　Then　it　was　gone；　extinct；　and　his　thread　rushed　on　alone。
　He　had　seen　enough。　The　future　must　go　its　own　way。　（Which　it　surely　would。）　He　cast　about；　found　a　door　and　side…stepped　out　of　time　into　the　M？bius　continuum。　At　once　the　infant　Harry's　tractor　id　put　a　grapple　on　him　and　began　to　reel　him　in。　Harry　didn't　fight　it　but　merely　let　himself　drift　home。　Home　to　his　son's　mind　in　Hartlepool；　on　a　Sunday　night　early　in　the　autumn　of　1977。
　He　had　intended　to　talk　to　certain　new　friends　in　Romania；　but　that　would　have　to　wait。　As　for　his　〃collision〃　with　the　future　of　some　other　person：　he　hardly　knew　what　to　make　of　that。　But　in　the　brief　moment　before　its　expiry；　he　was　sure　that　he　had　recognised　that　fading　echo　of　a　mind。
　And　that　was　the　most　puzzling　thing　of　all。。。
　
　
　Chapter　Twelve
　Genoa　is　a　city　of　contrasts。　From　the　low…level　poverty　in　the　cobbled　alleys　and　sleazy　bars　of　its　waterfront　areas；　to　its　high…rise　luxury　apartments　looking　down　on　the　streets　from　broad　windows　and　spacious　sun…balconies；　from　the　immaculate　swimming　pools　of　the　rich　to　the　dirty；　oil…blackened　beaches；　from　the　shadowy；　claustrophobic　labyrinthine　alleys　down　in　the　guts　of　the　city　to　the　airy；　hugely　proportioned　stradas　and　piazzas…contrast　is　everywhere　evident。　Gracious　gardens　give　way　to　chasms　of　concrete；　the　parative　silence　of　select　residential　suburbs　is　torn　cityward　by　blasts　of　traffic　noise　which　lessen　not　at　all　through　the　night；　and　the　sweet　air　of　the　higher　levels　gives　way　to　dust　and　blue　exhaust　fumes　in　the　congested；　sunless　slums。　Built　on　a　mountainside；　Genoa's　levels　are　many　and　dizzying。
　British　Intelligence's　safe　house　there　was　an　enormous　top…floor　flat　in　a　towering　block　overlooking　the　Corso　Aurelio　Saffi。　To　the　front；　facing　the　ocean；　the　block　rose　five　high…ceilinged　storeys　above　the　road；　at　the　rear；　because　its　foundations　were　sunk　into　the　summit　of　a　fang　of　rock；　with　the　building　perched　on　its　rim；　there　was　a　second　level　three　floors　deeper。　The　aspect　from　the　stubby；　low…walled　rear　balconies　was　vertiginous；　and　especially　so　to　Jason　Cornwell；　alias　〃Mr　Brown〃。
　Genoa〃；　Sunday；　9。00　P。M。…but　in　Romania　Harry　Keogh　was　still　talking　to　the　vampire…hunters　in　their　suite　of　rooms　in　lonesti；　and　would　soon　set　off　to　follow　his　life…thread　into　the　near　future　and　in　Devon；　Yulian　Bodescu　continued　to　worry　about　the　men　who　were　watching　him　and　worked　out　a　plan　to　discover　who　they　were　and　what　their　interest　was。　But　here　in　Genoa　Jason　Cornwell　sat　thin…lipped　and　stiffly　erect　in　his　chair　and　watched　Theo　Dolgikh　using　a　kitchen　knife　to　pick　the　rotten　mortar　out　of　the　stonework　of　the　balcony's　already　dangerous　wall。　And　the　sweat　on　Cornwell's　upper　lip　and　in　his　armpits　had　little　or　nothing　to　do　with　Genoa's　sticky；　sultry　Indian　summer　atmosphere。
　But　it　did　have　to　do　with　the　fact　that　Dolgikh　had　caught　him　out；　trapped　the　British　spider　in　his　own　web；　right　here　in　this　safe　house。　Normally　the　flat　would　be　occupied　by　a　staff　of　two　or　three　other　secret　service　agents；　but　because　Cornwell　（or　〃Brown'）　was　busy　with　stuff　beyond　the　scope　of　ordinary　espionage…a　specialist　job；　as　it　were…the　regular　occupiers　had　been　〃called　away〃　on　other　work；　leaving　the　premises　suitably　empty　and　accessible　to　Brown　alone。
　Brown　had　taken　Dolgikh　on　Saturday；　but　only　a　little　more　than　twenty…four　hours　later　the　Russian　had　managed　to　turn　the　tables。　Feigning　sleep；　Dolgikh　had　waited　until　Sunday　noon　when　Brown　went　out　for　a　glass　of　beer　and　a　sandwich；　then　had　worked　frenziedly　to　free　himself　from　the　ropes　that　bound　him。　When　Brown　returned　fifty　minutes　later；　Dolgikh　had　taken　him　pletely　by　surprise。　Later。。。　Brown　had　e　to　with　a　start；　mind　and　flesh　simultaneously　assaulted　by　smelling　salts　squirted　into　his　nostrils　and　sharp　kicks　in　his　sensitive　places。　He'd　found　their　positions　reversed；　for　now　he　was　tied　in　the　chair　while　Dolgikh　was　the　one　with　the　smile。　Except　that　the　Russian's　smile　was　that　of　a　hyena。
　There　had　been　one　thing…really　only　one…that　Dolgikh　wanted　to　know：　where　were　Krakovitch；　Kyle　and　co　now？　It　was　quite　obvious　to　the　Russian　that　he'd　been　taken　out　of　the　game　deliberately；　which　might　possibly　mean　that　it　was　being　played　for　high　stakes。　Now　it　was　his　intention　to　get　back　in。
　〃I　don't　know　where　they　are；〃　Brown　had　told　him。　〃I'm　just　a　minder。　I　mind　people　and　I　mind　my　own　business。〃
　Dolgikh；　whose　English　was　good　however　guttural；　wasn't　having　any。　If　he　couldn't　find　out　where　the　espers　were；　that　was　the　end　of　his　mission。　His　next　job　would　likely　be　in　Siberia！　〃How　did　they　get　on　to　me？〃
　〃I　got　on　to　you。　Recognised　your　ugly　face…details　of　which　I've　already　passed　on　to　London。　As　for　them　recognising　you：　without　me　they　wouldn't　have　been　able　to　spot　you　in　a　monkey…house　at　the　zoo！　Not　that　that　would　mean　a　lot。　。
　〃If　you　told　them　about　me；　they　must　have　told　you　why　they　wanted　me　stopped。　And　they　probably　told　you　where　they　were　going。　Now　you'll　tell　me。〃
　〃I　can't　do　that。〃
　At　that　Dolgikh　had　e　very　close；　no　longer　smiling。　〃Mr　Secret　Agent；　minder；　or　whatever　you　are；　you　are　in　a　lot　of　trouble。　The　trouble　is　this：　that　unless　you　co…operate　I　will　surely　kill　you。　Krakovitch　and　his　soldier　friend　are　traitors；　for　they　must　at　least　have　knowledge