The Source (39 page)

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Authors: Brian Lumley

BOOK: The Source
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“But just two years ago our time—”
“At the time of the Perchorsk accident?” Jazz was quick to note.
“Yes,” Zek nodded, “I suppose so. Anyway, that was when a change took place. During sunup, when the Wamphyri stick close to their stacks, the sphere apparently elevated itself up from the bed of its crater until it was positioned as it is now.”
“Explanation?”
Zek's shrug. “I certainly don't have one. But the Wamphyri saw it as an omen. Their myths have it that any change in the sphere—the gate to the hell-lands—is portentous of great changes in general. Changes they themselves might instigate.”
“Such as?”
“Well, for a long time now they've talked of joining forces and waging war on The Dweller. If they could put aside their own petty squabbles long enough, maybe they'd do that. Also, we were something of a change in ourselves. When Chingiz Khuv started sending political prisoners and other ‘undesirables' through the Gate as a series of experiments … it was the first time that the
Wamphyri had proof that the hitherto half-mythical hell-lands were real!”
Jazz was frowning, chewing his lip. “Something's wrong here,” he said. “If the recent Perchorsk accident in our world caused the ‘white sun' effect thousands of years ago in this one, why didn't we appear through the Gate all that time ago? Another anachronism? A space-time paradox? I don't buy it. It doesn't ring true. Now tell me this: how long have the Wamphyri been using the Gate as a punishment? When did they first start sending transgressors through it?”
Zek glanced at him. “Why do you ask?”
“Just a thought.”
“Well, as far as I'm aware, they've been doing it right through their history, for thousands of years.”
“See what I mean?” Jazz was sure this was important. “Up until the time I left Perchorsk there had only been a handful of ‘encounters'—of which only one was, or had been, a man. A creature of the Wamphyri, anyway.”
Zek shook her head. “No, he Was true Wamphyri, that one. He was Lesk the Glut's heir, Klaus Desculu. He had Lesk's egg, but instead of going off and finding or stealing a stack of his own, he tried to usurp his father, Lesk. The Glut is insane; even the Wamphyri recognize that fact, that Lesk the Glut is not responsible. His passions are enormous! He brought Klaus to heel, punished him for ten years—submitted him to incredible cruelties—then banished him through the Gate. He was the one they hosed with liquid fire on the walkway. But I see what you mean. If the Wamphyri have been sending their malefactors through the Gate throughout their history, where have they been going? Not to Perchorsk, obviously, for Perchorsk didn't exist then.”
“Coming this way,” Jazz mused, “from Perchorsk to here, there's only one exit—onto the boulder plain on Starside. But going the other way … is there more
than one exit into our world? One at Perchorsk and another somewhere else?”
It was Zek's turn to be excited. “I've wondered about that,” she said. “And it might explain away certain other things which have puzzled me—
and
you.”
“Oh?”
She nodded. “For instance, how is it that the Traveller tongue is so close to the Romanian of our world? And for that matter, how are the Gypsies
themselves,
so close? What do you know of Earth's languages, Jazz?
Our
Earth, of course? It's obvious that you're something of a linguist.”
He smiled. “What do I know about Earth languages? Quite a lot, actually. I have qualifications in Russian. My father was a Russian. The Slavonic languages, yes, and something of the Romance tongues, too. That's how I picked up the Traveller
patois
so quickly. Why do you ask?”
“A theory of mine,” she answered. ‘My own knack with languages comes from my telepathy. Languages are easy if you've a rapport with your subject's mind. But the connection between the Traveller tongue and Romanian seemed so obvious to me. And of course the Wamphyri have the same tongue …”
Jazz saw what she was getting at and drew breath in a hiss. “The banished Wamphyri took their language with them into our world!” he said. “Zek, that's clever! But—”
“Yes?”
“But that's to suppose that the Latin tongue originated here, not in our world.”
“That's my theory, yes. I also believe that some of those ancient, banished Wamphyri took their followers with them. The Szgany, Zingaro, Zigeuner: the Gypsy!”
“The Romance tongues spread outwards from Russia?” Jazz looked puzzled. “I can't see that.”
“Who mentioned Russia?” she answered. “If there
is more than one exit in our world, why must they all be in Russia?”
“Romania?”
“That would be my bet, yes. Ask yourself this: where did the vampire legend arise from in our world? Where does it have its roots?”
“In Romania, of course.”
“And which nation has retained its own language almost entirely intact since time immemorial, despite being surrounded by countries with little or no linguistic relationship? Like Hungarian and the Slavonic tongues?”
“I see,” he nodded. “By periodic injections of vampires and their followers, right?”
“It's possible.”
Jazz began to get hooked on the idea. “The more I think of it the more plausible it seems,” he finally said. “The first Wamphyri migrated (were banished) to our world many thousands of years ago. They took their followers and their language with them: the Gypsies and their tongue, which is a form of Latin. They spread outward from Romania into all the lands around, but their heartland was Romania itself. Despite being conquered by Avars, Magyars, Goths, Gepidae and what have you, the language could only be diluted, not eradicated; for when the conquerors moved on there would always be new arrivals from this side of the Gate to reinforce the watered-down tongue. It explains why Romania is so isolated in its use of a Romance language. And as you say, it gives a real basis for Earth's vampire legends. But weren't Gypsies supposed to have come out of India? The Korakaram mountains?”
“Maybe the first of them through the Gate
went
to India,” Zek answered. “Why not. They're travellers, aren't they? And from there they spread themselves throughout the world. Their urge to travel is simple to explain: it had been bred into them by the Wamphyri for so many hundreds of years …”
“So to sum up,” Jazz said, “what you're saying is
this: that there's another Gate somewhere in Romania, through which the Wamphyri have been arriving in our world for millennia?”
“Never a great many of them,” she answered. “But yes, that seems to be our conclusion. I hinted at it and you worked it out for yourself. It's plausible, as you said.”
“So why doesn't anyone know about this Romanian Gate? I mean, a thing like the shining sphere isn't likely to remain obscure for very long, now is it?”
“Ask me another,” said Zek, with another shrug. “But from what we know of The Dweller,
he
certainly seems to have access to our world. And if
he
doesn't use the Perchorsk Gate—”
“Which Gate does he use?”
“Exactly.”
After a little while, Jazz said: “We've covered a lot of ground. So now, before I get too confused, let's go on to something else.”
“Like why Karen set me free?”
“If you don't mind.”
“Very well, it was like this:”
 
“I don't know how long I stayed in the Lady Karen's aerie. Time seems suspended in such places, numbed by horror. Not interminably lengthened, however, because so much of one's time is spent asleep—exhausted! To live in such a place drains a person, physically and mentally. Menace seems to lurk even where there is none; nerves stretch to breaking; massive as even the smallest room is, still the
feeling
is claustrophobic. Silent for hours, then ringing with the laughter of the Wamphyri, or perhaps reverberating with screams of direst agony, an aerie is like Satan's antechamber.
“And yet the Lady Karen became my friend, or as much a friend as any human being could ever hope to find in a vampire!
“Perhaps that's not so hard to understand. She had
been a simple Traveller girl. She remembered her previous life, knew the horror of her present circumstances, foresaw a future more monstrous yet. She had been a striking beauty in her tribe, and I myself was not without good looks. She found a kinship with me, read in my predicament echoes of her own. Also, she knew her vampire must soon take ascendancy. When it did … her actions would no longer be entirely
her
actions.
“If she hadn't been female—if this aerie had been that of one of the Lords—then things would have been very different. I wouldn't have been here telling the story now. Can you imagine what it means to be loved, physically loved, by one of the Wamphyri? ‘Love' in the spiritual meaning of the word isn't part of their language, but in the physical …
“When a vampire takes a woman for his pleasure, Jazz—not for food, but for sex pure and simple—well, it cannot be pure and it is never simple! The things lovers do … nothing is forbidden between a woman and a man in love. But between a vampire and a woman, or between a
female
vampire and a man? They are
powerful
creatures! You have heard that old saying ‘a fate worse than death'? Ridiculous, for what could be worse than death? But there, I'm sure I don't have to describe it.
“But Karen was entirely woman, and her female elements were emphasized by her parasite. There was nothing of the lesbian in her—not yet, anyway, though God only knows what she would be like later. So I don't suppose the thought of me as a sexual diversion even occurred to her. Not for herself, anyway.
“But her lieutenants, they wanted me.
“Oh, they had their own women—stolen Traveller girls—but they were dark and I was fair. My colours were so rare as to be almost unheard of. And I was a hell-lander. Better still, I could steal thoughts. Now, the true Wamphyri, born of a vampire egg, has a degree of telepathy—but their lesser creatures do not. Not
unless such is deliberately bred into them or gifted to them by their masters. And so, all in all, I would make a highly desirable property. Karen feared that when the vampire in her was fully mature, then she'd lose what small degree of compassion remained in her. Following which my future would become much more unreliable, my unspeakable fate that much more certain. She did not want that for me.
“One day she said to me: ‘Zekintha, there is something you can do for me; when it is done, if it is done well, then I shall take you to Sunside and leave you there for the Travellers to find. I see no reason why you should become what I have become, what I am still to become.'
“‘You offer me a way out of this place?' I answered. ‘Only tell me what I have to do.'
“‘There's a truce,' she said. ‘The Wamphyri have called a meeting. All the Lords shall gather in one place, under their many banners, to see if they can find common ground in a certain cause. Now, can you guess where they'll gather?'
“‘Here?'
“‘Indeed! In the aerie of Karen. That in itself—that they wish to hold their talks here—seems to me a highly suspicious thing. A very inauspicious thing. However, I shall make provisions. Now, what are your thoughts so far?'
“‘I know only what you have told me of these Lords, Lady,' I answered. ‘Which is to say that I fear them greatly! I think that if you let the Lords Shaithis, Lesk, Lascula and the others into your castle, then you'll lose it. Of all the stacks, this one of yours holds a prime position, Karen, and they covet it. They know, too, that you have me here, and that I have magic. I am therefore desirable. Your warrior-creatures would pass down to him who killed you, and they are the finest warriors of all, for none could make warriors like Dramal Doombody. These are your own words, which I repeat
to you. But if your castle and your beasts and I myself am desirable, you are more desirable still, Karen. They would make fine sport with you—with both of us—before making an end of it. But you are Wamphyri! You would last so much longer than me, and suffer so much more.'
“‘Are you finished?'
“‘For now.'
“‘Normally I would agree with you in everything you've said, but there are always two ways of looking at things. For instance, perhaps there is nothing inimical in this—not immediately, anyway. At least admit this: that if the Lords are to meet, then they need neutral ground on which to do it, even if it is only to agree to disagree! This would be the ideal spot, for they don't consider me their equal; I am merely renting them a room. Also, I said I would make conditions; by which I meant that I will take precautions against treachery. One: they must come alone, without their lieutenants. That shall be the first proviso. Two: no gauntlets.'

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