A moment later, as he hurriedly dressed, came the hammering on his door. He opened it to let in the unctuous Paul Savinkov; except that apart from the sweat on his fat, shining, frightened face, there was nothing at all slimy about him now. He smelled now not of grease but fear!
‘Major!’ he gasped. ‘Comrade! My God, my God.r
Khuv shook him. ‘What is it, man?’ he snarled. ‘Here, sit down before you fall down.’ He shoved Savinkov into a chair.
The fat esper was trembling, wobbling like a jelly. ‘I . . . I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s just . . . just . . .’
Khuv slapped him, backhanded him, deliberately slapped him again. ‘Now perhaps you’ll tell me what’s wrong!’ he growled.
The white burn of Khuv’s slim fingers came up like long blisters on Savinkov’s face. His eyes lost their glaze and he shook his head, as if he was the one who had just woken up and not Khuv. Then – Khuv thought the man was about to burst into tears. If he did, Khuv knew he would hit him right in the teeth! ‘Well?’ he rasped.
‘It’s Roborov and Rublev,’ Savinkov gasped. ‘Dead, both of them!’
‘What?’ Khuv knew he must be imagining this; it had to be some crazy dream. ‘Dead? How, for the love of – ? An accident?’ He finished dressing, slipped into his shoes.
‘Accident?’ Savinkov grinned like an idiot, but his features quickly melted into a sob. ‘Oh, no – no, it wasn’t an accident. When it happened, their thoughts woke me up. Their thoughts were – awful!’
Thoughts?’ Khuv’s mind, still not fully awake, sought for an explanation. Of course: Savinkov was a telepath. ‘What about their thoughts?’ -v
‘Something . . . something was attacking them. In Roborov’s room. I think they’d been playing cards, gambling, and that Roborov was a heavy loser. He’d been to the toilet. When he came out . . . Rublev was nearly dead! Something had him by the throat! Roborov tried to pull it off, and … it turned on him! Oh, God – 1 felt him die! Huh . . . huh . . . he . . .’
‘Go on, man!’ Khuv gasped.
‘He grabbed the thing and turned it around, and he saw it. He was thinking: “I don’t believe this! Oh, mother, help me! Sweet God, you know I’ve always loved you! Don’t let this happen!”‘
‘Those were his thoughts?’
‘Yes,’ Savinkov sobbed. ‘The rest of it was just background stuff, but it was Roborov’s thoughts that really woke me up. And as he died – I saw it too.r
‘What did you see?’ Khuv took Savinkov’s face between the flats of his palms.
‘God, I don’t know! It wasn’t human – or maybe it was? It was a nightmare. It was … its shape was all wrong! It was like . . . like that thing in the glass tank!’
Khuv’s blood ran cold. He gulped air into his lungs, released Savinkov’s face. He grabbed his lapels and dragged him to his feet. ‘Take me there,’ he snapped. ‘Roborov’s room? I know it. Were you there? No? Then who is there? You don’t know? Fool! Well, we’re going there right now!’
On their way, the alarms stopped clamouring. ‘Well, let’s be thankful for that, anyway,’ Khuv grunted. He jostled Savinkov ahead of him. ‘At least I can hear myself think! Now, are you sure you can’t remember who you told? I mean, did you simply forget all the procedures and come running straight to me? God, but if this is a wild-goose chase I’ll -!’
But it wasn’t.
Outside the door of Roborov’s room a sleepy, nervous soldier stood on guard. He saluted sloppily as Khuv and Savinkov came into view. They rushed by him. Inside were two more espers, and a KGB man named Gustav Litve. All were whey-faced, shaken to their roots. Crumpled on the floor, there lay the reason. Or reasons.
Nikolai Rublev could be Savinkov’s twin! thought Khuv, grimacing at what he saw. They were, or had been, much of a kind. But now there were differences, the main one being that Savinkov was still alive. And he was also intact.