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posters, but girls, certainly. The English girls, I thinking.'
'A revue?' said Fletcher. 'Like a troupe? Out of England?' The twins glanced at
each other, but neither one of them could say for sure.
Fletcher thought about it for a moment, then said, 'If you feel like it, we could try
locating something now.'
'Like what?' said Angel, stealing another smoke from Venyamin's pack on the
table. 'At this time of the morning? Do you really think anyone will be up and about?'
And Fletcher answered, 'The kind of people that we're looking for... they do their
best work at night.' Then he held out his hands to the twins. Understanding the principle,
they grasped his hands and formed an unbroken chain around the table.
At that, Fletcher's minders stepped back a pace. While they weren't entirely clear
what was happening some sort of seance was as close as they could guess still
they'd worked with E-Branch before and knew when to keep out of the way.
And under his breath, Fletcher warned, 'Vladimir, Venyamin: don't do anything
rash or stupid. And remember: we can't linger over this. We're only taking a look-see
just a glance and the moment we find anything we break it off. We can't afford to alert
anyone to our presence here. Is that understood?'
'Da.' The brothers nodded curtly, and all three espers fell silent.
But in another moment:
'Whoah!' Fletcher exclaimed, as he snatched back his hands and jerked upright,
sending his chair skidding and almost overturning the table. And: 'What the hell was
that?!' he said, his voice and limbs trembling. But his question was meaningless for he
knew well enough what it had been.
The Russians, too: suddenly their thin faces were even more drawn than usual,
their eyes wide and unnaturally bright.
'A very powerful... somethings!' Vladimir whispered. 'Mindsmog, but deep and
dark.'
'And... evil?' said his brother, his English finally coming together. 'When we are
finding nuclear devices, is not evil. Is made by men but is not evil in itself, just devices.
This thing is different. It is the people and it is the evil!'
Vladimir looked at him, shrugged and said, 'Venyamin speaks now... he is no
more shy.'
'Shy?' said Fletcher. 'Is that all it was with him? Well, I am shy very shy of
whatever it was we just bumped into! Now tell me, do you think it sensed us? Did it
know we were here?'
'It?' said Vladimir, with a puzzled frown. 'You are meaning other espers, our
enemies, of course?'
Fletcher calmed down, got a grip on himself. He had noticed that, just like the
twins, his Special Branch minders were frowning and glancing at each other, too. And:
'Yes,' he said. 'Yes, of course. I meant our enemies, who may well be espers in their
own right. Do you think they sensed our presence?'
'Not knowing,' Vladimir answered. 'We were in and out, just like you saying.'
And Fletcher sighed his relief. Then, still a little shaken, he sat down again and
looked at the map. 'It wasn't the theatre or schauplatz or whatever... er, the mindsmog,
that is. Myself, I thought I detected three or four separate sources, all spread out around
the town. But none near us, thank goodness!'
'Likewise,' said Vladimir. 'But we Venyamin and me we did feeling the faint
mindsmogs in or near the Kino. And we are having the idea.'
'Go on,' said Fletcher.
'Is night,' said Vladimir. 'The Kino is closed now. Perhaps this thing we feeling is
how you are saying left over?'
'Residual?' said Fletcher.
'Residual, yes,' Vladimir nodded. 'From the evening, maybe. Is possible our
enemies using the place, going there during the day or in the evening times.'
At which Fletcher came bolt upright in his chair. Suddenly he'd remembered
something in Ben Trask's initial report on that Evening Star affair: that Vavara and
Malinari weren't the only ones who had got off the vampirised ship. There were also
those they'd taken with them. And:
'Girls!' He gasped the word out. 'Dancing girls! That shipboard revue: an entire
bloody troupe of dancers!'
'Eh? What's that?' said Joe Sparrow. 'Girls?'
'Tell us more,' said Cliff Angel leeringly.
Fletcher put his brain in gear and thought fast. Trask had told him that if he ever
got a definite fix if he was certain of his target to keep well away or face the
consequences. He, Bernie Fletcher, should keep well away, because he 'glowed in the
dark'. But his minders didn't. Moreover, they looked the part. They hadn't shaved since
leaving England; and with a day to go before the next performance... by tomorrow night
they'd be perfect! They could go see the show, and fit into the audience just like a
couple of Turks.
Passing through the town on the way in, Fletcher had looked the people over.
The locals were shop owners in the main, small businessmen, and farmers. The women
he'd seen had been few and far between. Odds were there wouldn't be any women in
the audience at the Kino. Also, and as far as he was aware, where Turks were
concerned, belly dancers or any kind of female dancers, for that matter would be
irresistible. The place would probably be packed to the rafters, and his minders just
another two faces in the crowd. But if there was anything 'different' about these dancers,
the Special Branch men might be able to spot it.
Or one of them would. For Fletcher had remembered something else that Trask
had told him: never to be on his own without at least one of his bodyguards looking out
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