Lifeforce Read online

  He hesitated for a moment, giving Jamieson a chance to interject: “And when did you make this discovery?”

  “Oh… er… two years ago.”

  “Two years! You’ve been working on vampirism for two years?”

  Fallada nodded. “In fact, I’ve written a book on it.”

  It was M’Kay who interrupted this time. “But how could you write about vampires before this happened? Where did you get your material?”

  Fallada said earnestly: “Vampirism is commoner than you think. It plays a basic part in nature, as well as in human relations. There are many predators that drain the life field of ther prey, as well as eating their bodies. And even human beings know this instinctively. Why do we eat oysters alive? Why do we boil lobster alive? It’s true even when we eat vegetables — we prefer a fresh cabbage to a cabbage that is a week old —”

  M’Kay said: “Oh come, that sounds total nonsense. We eat fresh cabbage because it tastes better, not because it’s alive.”

  Rawlinson said: “And personally, I prefer my grouse when it’s been hung for at least a week.”

  Carlsen saw that Fallada’s irritation was making him damage his own case. He said: “Could I perhaps explain a little?”

  Jamieson said courteously: “Please do, Commander.”

  “I’ve been in Dr Fallada’s lab this afternoon, and I saw the body of the girl who was found on the line at Putney yesterday. There was no doubt whatever that she’d been killed by a vampire.”

  Jamieson shook his head. He was obviously impressed. ” Howdo you know?”

  “By Dr Fallada’s test. Her body won’t hold a life field.”

  “I know nothing about this girl. How did she die?”

  Heseltine said: “She was strangled then her body was thrown onto the railway line from a bridge.”

  Jamieson turned to Fallada. “And would not such violence have a similar effect on the life field?”

  “To a minor extent. Not nearly to the same degree.”

  “And when did this take place?”

  Heseltine said: “In the early hours of yesterday morning.”

  “I… don’t understand. Surely by that time, all three of these creatures were dead?”

  Fallada said: “I don’t believe they were dead. I believe they’re still at large.”

  “But how —”

  Fallada interrupted: “I think they can take over other people’s bodies. The female alien didn’t really die in Hyde Park. She lured a man into the park, took over his body, then made it look like a sex crime. I also believe the other two are at large. They simply left their bodies in the Space Research building and took over other bodies.”

  There was a silence. Both Rawlinson and M’Kay were looking down at the table, as if unwilling to comment. Jamieson said reasonably: “You must admit that what you say sounds unbelievable. What evidence is there for these… assertions?”

  Fallada said: “It’s not a matter of evidence. It’s a matter of simple logic. These creatures are supposed to be dead. Yet we find bodies that seem to have been drained of life energy. That suggests they’re not dead after all.”

  Jamieson said: “How many bodies?”

  “Two, so far — the girl on the railway line, and the man who killed her.”

  “The man who killed her?” Jamieson looked at Heseltine as if appealing for help.

  Heseltine said: “She was strangled by a man called Clapperton — the racing driver. Dr Fallada thinks he was possessed by one of these creatures.”

  “I see. And I gather that he is now also dead?”

  “Yes.”

  “And his body… is it also in… this condition?”

  “We don’t know yet. It’s being sent to my laboratory for testing.”

  “And when shall we know the result?”

  Heseltine said: “It was sent two hours ago. It may have been tested by now.”

  Jamieson said: “In that case, please find out. Here is a telescreen.” He turned and lifted a portable telescreen from the desk behind him. Rawlinson pushed it down the table to Fallada.

  Fallada said: “Very well.” There was total silence as he pushed the dialling buttons. When a girl’s voice answered, Fallada said: “Would you get Norman on the phone, please?” Half a minute went by. M’Kay helped himself to another drink. Then Grey’s voice said: “Hello, sir?”

  “Norman! Did Wandsworth mortuary send a body?”

  “Oh, yes, sir. The man who drowned. I’ve finished testing it now.”

  “What result?”

  “Well, as far as I can tell, sir, it’s a normal case of drowning. He may have taken knock-out pills.”

  “But what about the lambda reading?”

  “Perfectly normal, sir.”

  “No difference whatever ?”

  “None, sir.”

  Fallada said: “All right. Thank you, Norman.” He rang off.

  Jamieson said quickly: “Of course, I agree that proves nothing. You could still be right, generally speaking, even though you are wrong in this particular case. But as I understand it, your theory now rests on a single body — the girl on the railway line?”

  Before Fallada could answer, M’Kay interrupted quietly: “I don’t wish to be offensive, Doctor, but isn’t it possible you’ve allowed your interest in vampires to… well, outweigh your judgement?”

  Fallada said angirly: “No, it is not.”

  Carlsen felt it was time to support Fallada. “I agree that this result is rather surprising. But I don’t think it invalidates Dr Fallada’s general argument.”

  Jamieson turned to Bukovsky. “What do you think?”

  Bukovsky was obviously unsure of himself. Avoiding Fallada’s eyes, he said: “I honestly don’t know. I’m not willing to offer a judgement either way until I’ve examined all the evidence.”

  “And you, Sir Percy?”

  Heseltine frowned. “I’ve the greatest respect for Dr Fallada, and I’m sure he knows what he’s talking about.”

  Jamieson said: “Of course he does. No one doubts that. We all know that he is one of our most distinguished scientists. But even scientists can be mistaken. Now, let me be frank and tell you the view that I am inclined to support — although, I should add, entirely without dogmatism.” He paused as if waiting for objections. It was a parliamentary trick; all were waiting for him to go on. “All the evidence suggests that these are creatures from another planet or star system, who take a deep interest in life on earth. Perhaps they are scientists engaged in the study of evolving civilisations. Clearly, as a species they are far older than man, and certainly more advanced in knowledge of the universe.” He paused, regarding them from under his bushy eyebrows. Carlsen found himself listening with hypnotic fascination to the voice, with its astonishing range of expressiveness. Jamieson now dropped it to an intimate, confidential tone: “Now, I personally find it very difficult indeed to imagine a highly evolved species who prey on their fellow creatures. I do not claim to be highly evolved, but I am a vegetarian because the killing of animals is repugnant to me. For that reason, it taxes my credulity to believe that creatures like these could be — as Dr Bukovsky puts it — the equivalent of deadly germs.”

  Fallada broke in irritably: “Then you should have seen the body of that reporter after the woman had finished with it.”

  Rawlinson made a tutting noise with his tongue and shook his head. M’Kay looked at the ceiling as if he felt they were dealing with an idiot. But Jamieson seemed unoffended. He said gravely: “I have in fact seen a photograph of that unfortunate young man. I realise that the girl destroyed him and that she is therefore, according to our laws, a murderer. But I have also heard Commander Carlsen’s description of what took place, and it leaves me in no doubt that the man was intent on an act of sexual violation. What happened was in self-defence — probably of unpremeditated self-defence, since she woke up to find this man attacking her. Is that not so, Commander?”

  Carlsen felt it would be too complicated to tr
y to explain. He said: “Basically, yes.”

  Jamieson turned to Fallada. He held up his finger in a gesture that had overtones of rebuke. “You believe these creatures are intent on destroying human beings. But is it not just as likely that they wish to help us?” Fallada shrugged, shook his head, but said nothing. Jamieson said persuasively: “Let me explain what I mean. As a historian, I have often wondered at the suddenness with which great changes have taken place. The destiny of mankind has literally been transformed many times — by the use of weapons, by the discovery of fire, by the invention of the wheel, by the establishment of cities. And yet is it not possible that this” — he tapped the sheet of paper — “could be our answer? That these creatures could be the secret mentors of humankind?”

  This time he paused, looking at Fallada as if demanding an answer. Fallada cleared his throat. He said doggedly: “Anything is possible. I am only trying to deal with facts. And one fact I know is that these creatures are dangerous.”

  Jamieson nodded. “Very well. Then let me make a suggestion. On the whole, time is on our side. We do not have to make an immediate decision. So I suggest we leave the derelict where it is, and wait and see what happens. After all, it is unlikely to come to harm.”

  M’Kay grunted: “Except a few more meteor holes.”

  “That is a risk we shall have to take. Now, it is my suggestion that, after this meeting, I announce that the Space Research Institute had decided to recall the Vega and the Jupiter to earth, to allow us to study the documents discovered by Captain Wolfsen. That will delay any decisions for at least two months.” He looked at Fallada. “If you are right, and these creatures are still at large, we shall probably know by the end of that time. Do you agree?”

  Fallada, evidently surprised by the concession, said: “Yes. Yes, certainly.”

  “Does everyone else?”

  M’Kay said argumentatively: “I don’t. I think it’s a waste of time and money to recall the expedition. I think they should go on board now.”

  Jamieson said diplomatically: “And I am inclined to agree with you. But I feel that you and I are in a minority, and that the rest advise caution. So we must bow to the will of the majority.” He looked around enquiringly. Everyone nodded. Looking across at Fallada, Carlsen knew they were feeling the same thing: a strange sense of having won a tug of war because the opponent had let go of the rope. Jamieson said smoothly: “After all, this expedition has already produced remarkable results. This map alone is, to my mind, worth the whole cost so far. So let us take Dr. Fallada’s excellent advice and proceed with extreme caution. I don’t think we shall have any regrets.” He stood up. “And now, gentlemen, I think I shall make my announcement in the House. Dr. Bukovsky, I would be grateful if you would stay with me — I shall need you to help me answer questions afterwards. And Sir Percy, I’d like a word with you about the measures you’re taking to try to trace these creatures… If you’ll excuse us, gentlemen…”

  In the street, Fallada said slowly: “I think I shall never understand politicians. Are they really the mindless buffoons they seem to be?”

  Carlsen grunted sympathetically. “Still, I think he reached the right conclusion.”

  “He wants to bring that derelict back to earth. That would be disastrous.”

  “But he’s giving us time.”

  Fallada smiled suddenly. His smiles had the effect of transforming his face; it ceased to be heavy and serious and became the face of a jester, with a touch of malicious humor. He laid a hand on Carlsen’s shoulder.

  “I notice you say ‘us.’ Do I take it that you’ve now become a believer?”

  Carlsen shrugged. “I have a feeling that whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

  2

  He woke up feeling strangely sluggish and weary. His sleep had been deep, but as he came back to consciousness, he experienced a flash of memory of terrifying dreams. The bedside clock showed nine-thirty. It was a Friday; that meant Jelka had taken the children to the play school. He lay there for five minutes before summoning the energy to press the switch that opened the blinds. A few minutes later, he heard the front door close. Jelka opened the door softly, saw he was awake and came in. She threw the newspaper on the bed.

  “There’s a piece attacking the Prime Minister. Oh, and this came by special messenger.” She took a book bag from the table. The printed address on the label said: “Psychosexual Institute.”

  “Yes, that’s Fallada’s book on vampires. He promised to send me a photocopy. How about coffee?”

  “Are you all right? You look pale.”

  “Just tired.”

  When she came in a few minutes later, with coffee and lightly browned toast, he was reading Fallada’s typescript. She placed a book on the bedside table.

  “I got this out of the library yesterday. I thought it might interest you.”

  He glanced at the title: Spirit Vampirism.

  “That’s odd.”

  “What?”

  “Just a coincidence. The author’s Ernst von Geijerstam. And Fallada mentions a Count von Geijerstam.” He turned to the bibliography of Fallada’s book. “Yes, it’s the same one.”

  “Have you read the Times leader yet?”

  “No. What does it say?”

  “Only that it’s a shocking waste of the taxpayers’ money to send two spaceships all the way to the asteroids and then bring them back empty-handed.”

  Carlsen was too absorbed in the book to reply. She left him alone. When she returned half an hour later, he was still reading, and she could see that the glass coffee machine was empty.

  “Are you hungry yet?”

  “Not yet. Listen to this. This Count Geijerstam was supposed to be a crank, according to Fallada. He was some sort of psychologist, but no one took him seriously. Listen: it’s a chapter called ‘The Patient Who Taught Me to Think.’

  “ ‘The patient, whom I shall call Lars V–––, was a rather good-looking but pale ectomorph in his mid-twenties. For the past six months he had been experiencing intense compulsions to exhibit his sexual organs to women in public places. More recently, this had given way to a desire to undress children and bite them until they bled. He had not given in to any of these urges, although he admitted that he often went out with his fly open underneath his overcoat.

  “ ‘The patient’s history was as follows. His parents were both gifted artists, and Lars had displayed a talent for sculpture from an early age. He entered art school at sixteen, gaining top marks in the entrance exam. At the age of nineteen, his progress had been so spectacular that he held a successful exhibition and made himself a considerable reputation. It was at this exhibition that he met Nina von G–––, the daughter of a Prussian nobleman.

  “ ‘Nina was a pale girl who looked weak but was in fact possessed of considerable physical strength. She had enormous dark eyes and an unusually red mouth. She praised Lars and said she had always wanted to be the slave of a great artist. Within a day or so, he was hopelessly in love with her. It was many months before she allowed him to possess her, permitting him to believe that she was a virgin. Then she insisted on a strange pantomime. She lay in a makeshift coffin, dressed in a white nightdress, her hands crossed on her breasts. Lars had to creep into the room, pretending to be an intruder, then find the body, with candles burning round it. He then had to aet out the fantasy of caressing the “corpse,” carrying it to the bed, and biting it all over. Finally, he had to ravish her. During all this time, the girl agreed to remain perfectly still and give no sign of life.

  “ ‘It was clear, after he had made love to her, that Nina was not a virgin; however, Lars was now too infatuated to care. The two continued to act out extraordinary sexual fantasies. He was a rapist who ravished her in a dark alleyway, or a sadist who pursued her through the woods, tied her to a tree, and then whipped her before possessing her. After each of these occasions, Lars experienced a deep sense of lassitude, and one day the two of them slept naked, in the open, for sev
eral hours after lovemaking, to be awakened by falling snow.

  “ ‘Lars now begged her to marry him. She refused, explaining that she already belonged to another man. She referred to this man simply as “the Count,” and said that he visited her once a week to drink a small glassful of her blood. Lars had, in fact, noticed small cuts on the underside of her forearms. She explained to Lars that she had been taking his energy, in order to be able to satisfy the demands of the Count. The only way in which she and Lars could be united was for both of them to swear total allegiance to the Count, and to acknowledge themselves his slaves.

  “ ‘In a storm of jealousy, Lars threatened to kill her. After this, he tried to kill himself by taking an overdose of a powerful drug. His family found him unconscious and sent him to the hospital. There he was detained for two weeks. At the end of this time he ran away and went to the girl’s flat, intending to tell her he accepted her conditions. But she had gone, and no one knew her address.

  “ ‘Now he was subject to continual nervous exhaustion. His sexual fantasies now consisted of dreams of being mistreated by the girl and her lover, the Count. After these orgies of autoeroticism, he was often exhausted for days. His parents were deeply concerned about him, and his professor, an eminent art historian, begged him to return to his work. He had finally decided to come to me.

  “ ‘At first I assumed that this was a case of Freudian neurosis, probably involving guilt feelings about a mother fixation. The patient also admitted to having incestuous desires towards his sisters. But one episode he described made me wonder whether my approach was entirely wrong. He told me how, in the early days of the love affair, he had been working in his studio on a marble statue, and feeling exceptionally robust. The girl came into the studio, and he tried to persuade her to go away to let him work. Instead, she removed her clothes and lay at his feet until he became excited. Finally, he possessed her as she lay on the concrete floor. He fell asleep, lying in her arms. When he woke up, he realised that she was now lying on top of him, and — as he put it — sucking away his life fluid. He said that it felt exactly as though she was sucking his blood. When she finally stood up, he was too exhausted to move; but she, on the contrary, was now glowing with a tigerish vitality that was almost demonic.