"Brian Lumley - E-Branch 1 - Defilers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lumley Brian)

"Well, keep it in mind," said the other. "I would like to be able to visit with you some time-that
is, if you do decide it's time you settled down."
For you read I. He is talking about himself. If or when he makes a run for it, he wants to come to
us.
"And of course you'd be welcome," said Trask.
"My time's up," said Turchin. "I have accepted-ahem!-Herr Bruchmeister's apology, and he has
allowed me these couple of minutes in private, away from my, er, retinue-"
"Your cretinue!" Trask grinned, however wryly.
"-Precisely, to make this call."
"Let's not leave it so long next time," said Trask.
"Goodbye, Ben," said the premier. And the line went dead . . .
Trask looked up and John Grieve was still there. Their eyes met and Trask said, "Do you want me to
explain? I mean, a better or more complete explanation than the one you have now?"
"Only if you're so inclined," Grieve answered. "But in any case I think I got the gist of it-
except maybe that bit about a Necroscope. I mean, Turchin knows we have a Necroscope?"
Trask shrugged. "He's a pretty shrewd old fox. But anyway, don't go worrying your head about it.
He's only guessing. And I will explain . . . but not just to you." He glanced at his watch. "1350.
I'm giving a briefing in just ten minutes, so I'd better be on my way. Whistle the rest of them
up, will you, John? Especially Liz Merrick and Jake Cutter. I want every available man in the ops
room in ten minutes-espers and techs alike-and woe betide any absentee who doesn't have a
watertight excuse."
After Grieve had left, Trask sat there for a moment feeling old. Hell, he was old now. Or getting
there, anyway. The reason he felt it so much on this occasion was because he'd failed out there in
Brisbane, Australia. He'd failed Zek-failed to kill the one who had killed her.
And so back to that again. It was eating at him like acid, and he couldn't afford to let it.
Because that way the bastards would win. They would win and the world of men, or of mankind's
domination, would die-or undie. There would still be men, but they would be slaves, thralls, and
the women would be odalisques, chattel, cattle. And the blood would be the life, but not human
life. And everyone would be food.
That was why Malinari and the other two were here, but how they hoped to achieve it-how they
planned to bring it about, in a world with equal amounts of night and day-that was something else,
as yet unfathomed. Or perhaps not, for out there in Australia there'd been clues. Which was one of
the things Trask must talk about (he checked his watch again) in just five minutes' time.
He went to straighten his tie but wasn't wearing one. Too damn hot, in this ongoing, never-ending,
bloody El Nino summer. Talk about Australia. Huh!

Trask stood up, slid out from behind his desk and paced to the door, paused, shook his head in
disgust and went back again. And picking up his notes from the pending tray, he thought:
Old and absenttninded-. me, Ben Trask, who once thought he'd be young forever. That was Zek. With
Zek I could be young until I died. Or until she died. And she did.
But he knew what would make him young again: to see Malinari cut down, beheaded, burned to ashes.


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Malinari and the other two, and all of theirs that they'd corrupted. When they'd gone, then he'd
be young again. For a little while, anyway.
But what the hell . . . this was E-Branch, and in the Branch you could get old pretty damn fast no