Lifeforce (19 page)

They heard shouts of laughter as they emerged from the trees. The three girls were swimming in the lake; Annaleise was on her back, kicking up a haze of spray. When Selma Bengtsson saw them, she waved and called: “Your wife tried to reach you.”

Carlsen asked: “Did she leave a message?”

“No.”

Geijerstam said: “Why don’t you call her back? Perhaps, if there is no urgency, you could stay another day?”

“You’re very kind.”

The dreamlike sensation had left him; now he was physically tired. He wanted to lie down and sleep. The idea of relaxing for another day was attractive.

In the house, Geijerstam said: “Please use the screen in my study. That is upstairs.”

It was a small, comfortable room that smelt of warm leather and cigars. The leather smell came from the old-fashioned settee, which was standing too close to the log fire. As he sat down at the desk, Carlsen said: “Would you mind being introduced to my wife? She discovered your book, so she’d like to say hello.”

“It would be a pleasure.”

He was able to dial direct. Jeanette’s face appeared on the screen. She said: “Daddy! Are you on the moon?”

“No, darling. Just across the sea. Is Mummy there?”

Jelka’s voice said: “Yes, I’m here. Hello.” She picked Jeanette up and sat her on her knee. “Are you all right?” For some reason, Jelka was never at ease on the telescreen. Her manner seemed detached and cool, like a secretary.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

Jeanette asked: “Are you coming home today?”

“I don’t know, darling. I might stay another day. I’m staying in a castle that belongs to this gentleman.” He beckoned to Geijerstam, who moved within range of the screen. Carlsen introduced him, and Jelka and Geijerstam exchanged polite comments. Jeanette interrupted:

“Daddy, what’s a pryminister?”

“A what?”

Jelka said: “Oh, yes. The Prime Minister’s office wanted to get in touch with you. Unfortunately, I’d lost your address.”

He felt a stir of uneasiness, like a cold wind on the back of his neck. “What did they want?”

“I don’t know.”

“And did you find the address?”

“No. Susan’s been making paper aeroplanes out of the jotting pad.”

“Then how did you get this number?”

“I rang Fred Armfeldt at the Swedish embassy. The Prime Minister’s secretary’s going to ring back later. I’ll give him the number then.”

“No!”

She looked startled at his vehemence. She asked: “Why not?”

“Because… because I don’t want anyone to disturb me.”

“But suppose it’s important?”

“Never mind that.” He was aware of the irritation in his voice. “If anyone rings, say you’ve lost my address.”

She looked around. “That’s someone at the door. When are you coming home?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

When he had rung off, Geijerstam said: “Do you have something against your Prime Minister?”

He was massaging his eyes with his fingers; he shook his head. “No. It’s just that…” He shrugged.

“What?”

He looked up. “Does it matter?”

“I would like to know.”

Carlsen stared out of the window, frowning. He said: “I… don’t know. I suppose I’m enjoying myself here.”

There was a knock on the door. Fallada said: “I’m not intruding?”

“No, come in.”

Carlsen said: “Did you leave a message with your staff about where you were going?”

Fallada said with surprise: “Of course.” Then he frowned, scratching the end of his nose. “Although now you come to mention it, I’m not sure I did. I meant to… Why?”

Carlsen said: “Oh, nothing.”

Geijerstam smiled at Fallada. “So you forgot to leave your address. And Commander Carlsen left it where it could be mislaid. So no one now knows where you are. As a psychologist, what would you say to that?”

Fallada nodded. “Yes… you’ve got a point. Although if Carlsen actually left the address, it sounds more like an accident.”

“Except that I have just heard him tell his wife that she is to tell the Prime Minister’s office that she doesn’t know where he is.”

Carlsen and Fallada started to speak at once. Fallada said: “That’s easily explained. We both had a session with the Prime Minister two days ago. He doesn’t believe these vampires are dangerous. So neither of us trusts him.”

Geijerstam stood by the window, staring out. He said slowly: “It is my experience that when the subconscious gives us warnings, we should heed the warnings.”

Carlsen asked: “What are you suggesting?”

Geijerstam sat on the edge of the desk, where he could look into Carlsen’s face. He said: “Do you remember the last thing Moa said to you?”

“Whatever it was, I didn’t understand it.”

“She said: ‘Remember that if she is inside you, you are also inside her.’ ”

Carlsen said: “Which is untrue.”

“Is it?”

“I don’t know what she meant.”

“She meant that if this alien is in contact with your mind, you are also in contact with hers.”

Fallada said quickly: “How?”

Geijerstam asked Carlsen: “Have you ever been hypnotised?”

Fallada snapped his fingers. “Yes! That’s worth trying.”

Carlsen shook his head. Geijerstam said: “Would you be willing to allow me to try?”

Carlsen overcame the sinking feeling; he took a deep breath. “I suppose… it wouldn’t do any harm.”

“You don’t like the idea?”

Carlsen said apologetically: “It’s just that… I’m beginning to feel my mind’s not my own.”

“I understand. But this is something that need not alarm you. You will remain conscious all the time.”

Carlsen asked with surprise: “Is that possible?”

“Of course. I prefer my subjects to remain fully conscious.”

Fallada said: “It is quite safe. I have been hypnotised a dozen times. When we were students, we used to do it as a game.”

Carlsen said: “All right. When?”

“Why not now?”

Carlsen smiled. “I shall probably fall asleep. I’m pretty tired.”

“That would not matter.” Geijerstam pulled a cord, drawing the curtains. He switched on the reading lamp on the desk.

Fallada said: “Would you like me to go away?”

“Not unless Commander Carlsen would prefer it.” From a cupboard he took a metal stand; the curved top had a hook on it. From this he suspended a chromium sphere on a length of string. It turned gently in the light of the reading lamp.

Carlsen, staring at it, said: “I don’t mind.”

Geijerstam turned the lamp so that Carlsen’s face was in shadow. He said: “The purpose of the ball is to fatigue your vision. Stare at it until your eyes feel tired, then close them. I want you to feel quite relaxed in your chair. I can hypnotise you only with your help. The important thing is for you to feel comfortable and relaxed.” His voice went on, speaking quietly and slowly, as he set the pendulum swinging. Carlsen allowed himself to relax deep into the leather-covered chair. Beyond the ball he could dimly see the outline of Fallada seated on the settee, the firelight reflected on his glasses. Geijerstam was saying softly: “That’s right, allow yourself to sink back comfortably, and listen carefully to what I say. Now you are thinking of nothing. Your eyes are feeling tired. Your eyelids are heavy. You would like to close them.” It was true; the light was hurting his eyes. He closed them, experiencing a sense of warm darkness. Geijerstam’s voice was saying: “Your body feels heavy and relaxed. You feel as if you are sinking into the chair. You are breathing deeply and regularly, deeply and regularly…” He was feeling the warm, comfortable sense of trust that he had experienced as a child when he was about to be anaesthetised for a minor operation. He was aware of nothing but his breathing and Geijerstam’s voice. Then the voice stopped. He felt Geijerstam lift his right arm, then drop it. It was a strange sensation, like waking from a very deep sleep and lying in a warm and comfortable bed, with no desire to move. The passage of time was a matter of indifference. He would have been happy to float in this state of disconnected contentment for days or weeks.

Geijerstam’s voice said: “Are you able to speak to me? Answer yes if you are.”

With an effort to overcome the heavy languor, he said: “Yes.”

“Do you know where you are?”

“I’m in Sweden.”

“Are you one person or two?”

“One.”

“But this female vampire — is she not inside you?”

“No.”

“But she was inside you last night?”

“No.”

“Not inside you?”

“No. She was in touch with me. Her mind was in touch with mine. Like a telescreen.”

“Is she in touch with you now?”

“No.”

“Does she know where you are now?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“She hasn’t asked.”

“Would you tell her if she asked?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know where she is now?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know its name.”

“But you know where she is?”

“Yes.”

“Can you describe it?”

He was silent for a while. He was walking beside her, along a muddy road. It had been raining. She was wearing a brightly coloured dress, with red and yellow stripes. In the distance there were the towering office blocks of a city. Geijerstam said: “Where is she now?”

“She is walking on a moor.”

“What is she doing?”

“She is looking for a man.”

“What man?”

“Any man. She wants someone young and healthy — someone who works in a factory.”

“Does she intend to kill him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“She is afraid of being caught.”

Fallada’s voice interrupted: “How could she be caught?”

“The body would give her away.”

“So what is she hoping to do?” It was Geijerstam again.

“To find a healthy man and seduce him. She will take some energy from him — not enough to kill him.”

“Then what?”

“Then she will draw energy from him — as she draws it from me.”

Fallada, who was sitting on the far edge of the desk, snapped his fingers. “Of course! That’s what they intend to do. Set up a network of energy donors!” He asked Carlsen: “Is that true?”

“Yes.”

Geijerstam said: “Whose body is she using now?”

Carlsen hesitated. It was almost impossible to read the alien’s mind. If he tried, it would alert her. But there was another mind. He said: “I think her name is Helen. She is a nurse.”

“In a hospital?”

“I… think so,”

“Is Helen dead now?”

“No. She is still in her body.”

“You mean there are two people in one body — Helen and the vampire?” Geijerstam’s voice revealed his tension.

“Yes.”

Fallada said: “What happened to the other body — the man she took over?”

Carlsen said nothing. He knew the answer was locked in the alien’s mind, and that it was like an immense steel safe. Geijerstam asked him. “Can you tell us anything about the other body? Anything that might give us a clue?”

Again, he was able to tell them what was in the nurse’s mind. “There is another body… But it is in the hospital.”

“A man or a woman?”

“A man.”

“Do you know his name?”

“Jeff.”

“His other name?”

“No.”

“What do you mean when you say it’s in the hospital? Is it dead?”

“No.”

“Can you tell us anything about the hospital?”

“It is… on the edge of a town. On a hill.”

“You’ve no idea of its name?”

“No.”

“Or where it’s located?”

“No.”

There was a silence. Fallada and Geijerstam were speaking, but that did not concern him. They might have been speaking in a foreign language. He was enjoying the cold breeze and the appearance of puddles in the sunlight.

Fallada said: “What is she doing now?”

“She is sitting on a bench on the side of the road. She is watching a man.”

“What is the man doing?”

“He is sitting in his car, reading a newspaper.”

Fallada’s voice said quickly: “Can you see the number of the car?”

“Yes.”

“Read it out.”

“It is QBX 5279L.”

“Are there any other cars?”

“Yes. There is a red Temeraire parked near the fence. A young couple are eating sandwiches and looking at the view.”

“What is its number?”

“3XJ UT9.”

“What is she doing now?”

“She is waiting. She is crossing her legs, pulling up the skirt. She is pretending to read a book.”

Fallada and Geijerstam spoke together again. Then Fallada said: “Do you know what has happened to the other two vampires?”

“Yes. One has gone to New York.”

“And the other?”

“He is still in London.”

As if in a dream, the scene had changed to the Strand. He was standing at the top of the great marble steps that ran down to the river from the site of the old Savoy. The other alien was shaking hands with a short, fat man: the Chinese chargé d’affaires.

“Can you tell us his name?”

“I find it difficult to pronounce. We would say Ykx-By-Orun.”

“But what is his name now? The name of the body he uses?”

“Everard Jamieson.”

He was indifferent to their exclamations. He was more interested in watching the gleaming rocket carrier that slid smoothly downriver, hardly disturbing the smaller craft with its creamy wake.

Geijerstam was speaking to him again. “In thirty seconds I am going to waken you. You will wake up feeling refreshed and rested. Now your sleep is already growing lighter. You are beginning to wake up. I will count from one to ten, and when I reach ten, you will be fully awake. One, two…”

He opened his eyes and for a moment wondered where he was. He imagined he was in bed at home and found it hard to explain why he was reclining in a chair. Then daylight flooded into the room as Geijerstam drew the curtains. He felt as though he was waking from a long and pleasant night’s rest. He had some dim memory of a river and a huge silver craft, but as he tried to recall it, it faded like a dream.

Fallada was flushed with excitement. He said: “Do you realise what you just told us?”

“No. What?”

“You said that one of these aliens has taken over the Prime Minister of England.”