Anyone else would have felt nothing but the momentary chill. Cody was cursed with the ability to see as well as feel what was happening to him. Boring into his neck, the Interloper’s mouths and eyes entered his self, the rest of the attenuated, loathsome form following rapidly. It flowed out of the stone even before that tumbling vector began to succumb to the pull of gravity. By the time the rounded rock struck the floor, nearly all of the Interloper had passed into the alarmed archaeologist. The distraught young mother barely glanced in the direction of the staggering professor. A stunned Cody now understood the reason for her distress: She was not and probably had never been infected—but her infant was.
Before he could react, something cold and hard smacked him in the mouth. Eyes flicking downward, he saw Oelefse straining to jab something into his face. He barely had time to recognize it before an incredible pain shot through his entire system. It was as if he’d suddenly bitten down on a live wire and could not open his jaws.
He nearly fainted from the pain. The older man was there to catch him as his legs went numb. Once again he felt the surprising strength in that elderly body. Then his own system responded, recovering from the initial shock, a burst of adrenaline helping him to regain control of his legs. Trembling slightly, he found himself leaning up against the wall. The far wall, away from the hollow-eyed mother and her malevolently precocious, subtly manipulated child. It glared at him out of beguiled baby eyes, unable to assault him further.
Looking down, Cody saw the river rock lying innocently on the floor. Bending, the young mother picked it up and handed it back to her child. The infant took the rock in its tiny hands, turning the cool smoothness over and over, cooing and gurgling.
What, Cody wondered fearfully, of the Interloper that had sprung from the rock into his neck at the instant of contact? Reaching up, he felt the skin there. Naturally, there was no sign of entry, nor would he find one in a mirror. No puncture mark, no miniscule wound, no millimeter-long telltale gash. Was he contaminated? Was it even now sequestering itself deep within him, making itself comfortable, adjusting to its new surroundings preparatory to taking control of his thoughts and actions?
“You are clean.” Gazing up at his young friend, Oelefse took a deep breath. “Though it was a near thing.”
Dwindling waves of pain dribbled from the archaeologist’s lips like a rapidly receding tide on a beach. His jaw throbbed where the old man had struck him. “What did you do to me?”
“I had to strike before it could establish itself.” Reaching into his pocket, Oelefse removed a small, familiar object. “I barely had time enough to rap this against the wall and smack you in the teeth with it. My apologies for hurting you, but the only way to counter the influx of an Interloper is with a greater shock to the system.”
Cody considered the small tuning fork and tried not to remember exactly how it had felt when the rapidly vibrating steel had made contact with the nerves in his teeth. “Then it’s dead? Just like the ones we killed in Salzburg?” Oelefse nodded. “Christ, I thought my head was going to come off!”
“At least it is still your head.” Turning, Oelefse headed for the last door on the left-hand side of the corridor. “Come. We have tea to brew.”
The last obstacle to his reunion removed, Cody hurried forward, passing Oelefse and shoving the door to the room inward. Instantly, something large and aggressive was in his face, shoving him backward and through the doorway.
“Who do you think you are . . . sir?” The man gripping the front of the archaeologist’s shirt was not particularly tall, but very wide.
“Take it easy!” Cody struggled to free himself. His adversary released him, but continued to block the doorway with his bulk.
“No one gets in here who ain’t first been cleared by my office.”
“Glad to hear it.” More relieved than ruffled, Cody strained to see past the guard. “Call them, then. I’m Coschocton Westcott, the husband of the woman your company was hired to keep watch over.” Less challengingly, he added, “She is still in this room, isn’t she?”
The other man’s expression remained guarded. “Yeah, she’s here. Just stay there a moment.” Pulling a cell phone from a pocket, he called in, making Cody and Oelefse stand outside in the hall while he waited for a reply. Anguished and apprehensive, the archaeologist had no choice but to wait. There was nothing to be gained by causing a scene that might bring security personnel running.
The guard looked up from the phone. “Let’s see some ID.”
Fumbling for his wallet, Cody produced driver’s license, university identification, and credit cards. After a short exchange over the phone, the guard finally stood aside.
“Sorry, Mr. Westcott. Just doing my job.”
“Real well, too,” Cody blurted as he pushed past him and into the room. Following, Oelefse smiled sympathetically at the man.
“Mr. Westcott thanks you for your professionalism on behalf of his wife. You must be tired. While we are visiting, why not take a small break?” He checked his watch. “If I am not mistaken, the hospital cafeteria should be serving lunch now.”
“I brought my lunch. We always bring our own. Something hot for a change would be nice, though.” He hesitated. “I really oughta wait for my relief.”
Oelefse patted him on the arm, urging him through the doorway even as he was pulling it shut. “We will be here for a while. Everything will be all right. Mr. Westcott has been away and is not about to leave his wife’s side for some time.”
“Well—okay. If you’re sure. Who are you, anyway?”
“I am his uncle. I am your uncle, too.”
“Yeah, right. Funny.” The guard gazed longingly down the hall. “I’ll be back in an hour. No more.”
“Life is short, my friend. Take two.” From the gap that remained between closing door and waiting wall, Oelefse smiled encouragingly. “We will be here when you return.”
Having seen the guard off, the old man shut the door and stepped into the room. Cody was seated on the edge of the bed, holding his wife’s left hand. It was a tender tableau whose parameters were unchanged from the last time they had visited. The archaeologist was silent, but tears were running down his face.
Seeing his mentor approach, Cody struggled to control his emotions. “Look at her, Oelefse. She’s worse. Don’t you think she looks worse?”
Bending over the bed, the older man considered the inert, softly breathing form. The plastic spaghetti of feeding tubes and monitoring cables still ran from her face and body into an array of medical machinery on either side of the bed. The beautiful face was paler than he remembered it, the pulse in her wrist lagging.
As he stared, something that was all glaring eyes and gnashing teeth rose up from her chest to snap at him. At the same time, half-a-dozen eel-like shapes bit at Cody, coiling around his arms and gnawing futilely at his face. Both men ignored the ferocious manifestations of Those Who Abide. They could not be harmed by them, just as puzzled doctors could not detect the monstrosities or their insidious influence on the inexplicably nonresponsive patient in room 322. Cody almost wished some kind of minimal contact with the infesting Interlopers could be gained, if only so he could wrap his fingers around the throat of at least one of Those Who Abide, could feel it writhe and die beneath him instead of under the striking but physically removed vibration of one of Oelefse’s lethal tuning forks.
Impotent to influence the two unpolluted visitors, the grotesque, hideous shapes withdrew back into the human they were slowly destroying. Wanting to plunge his hands deep into his beloved, to drag them out with his bare hands, Cody could only sit by her side and hold her hand while Oelefse attended to necessary preparations.
These were simple and few in number. From his briefcase this time he withdrew a different kind of rattle, narrow and more tubular, decorated with different symbols and feathers the like of which Cody had never seen. He wondered at the kind of bird from which they had been plucked—or if they even belonged to any creature he would recognize as a bird. In contrast to their previous visit, Oelefse kept his suit on and put no paint on his face. Setting the rattle aside, he removed from the case a tiny, compact coffee brewer of German manufacture. Noting the direction of his young friend’s gaze, the old man smiled.
“This is designed to make a decent cappuccino even in the wilds of Mongolia. It will, should circumstances demand, also brew tea.” He nodded in the direction of the door. “I understand your feelings, having not seen her in so many days and after so much drama, but it will benefit her more if you keep watch at the door rather than hold a hand she cannot feel.”
Reluctant, but deferring to the older man’s wisdom, Cody gently let his wife’s limp hand fall back to the bed as he rose and took up a stance next to the entrance. Recalling a previous similar situation, he thoughtfully jammed a chair under the handle as tightly as he could.
The miniature brewer hissed softly as Oelefse added water from the tap in the bathroom. Chanting softly, he began to crumble between his palms the blue leaves of the ilecc he and Cody had fought so hard to acquire. As each fragment of leaf fell into the rapidly heating water, it emitted a single, brief, cobalt-blue spark.
Within minutes the water was boiling. Closing the plastic lid, Oelefse raised both arms and began to make studied passes over the coffeemaker, his chanting growing louder. Despite the presence of the splatter-preventing translucent brown lid, blue sparks continued to fly from the fermenting brew, shooting through the protective plastic as if it did not exist.
Picking up the rattle, Oelefse shook it several times over the coffeemaker. There was no ultimate burst of flames; no geyser of embers or flurry of electrical discharges. Ceasing his chant, he put the rattle back in the briefcase and switched off the brewer. Passing the open container beneath his nose, he inhaled but did not taste of the final concoction. Cody thought it had grown a little brighter in the shuttered room, but could not be sure.
“Ice. We need ice. And we don’t want to call for it.” Without waiting for his young friend to respond, Oelefse reentered the bathroom. Leaning to one side, Cody could see him place the hot container in the sink and run cold water around it. More minutes passed, during which the archaeologist tried to divide his time between his motionless wife, the door, and Oelefse’s inscrutable actions.
When at last the old man thought the brew had cooled enough, he returned. Objection sprang unbidden to Cody’s lips, but he said nothing as Oelefse carefully removed one of the plastic bags supplying glucose solution to Kelli’s unmoving form and poured the tea into the bag. Nearly empty, it promptly turned dark blue with the tea as Oelefse hung it back on its hook. The cobalt-colored liquid swiftly began to flow through the tube and into the ashen arm of the comatose woman in the bed. Adjusting the controller on the tube, the oldster increased the flow to maximum.
If a nurse or doctor should walk in now, Cody knew . . .
None did. Moving to the foot of the bed, Oelefse armed himself with rattles both old and new—and waited.
Unable to restrain himself any longer, Cody finally asked, “Is this how it’s usually done?”
“This is not ‘usually done,’ my young friend. In fact, I have never seen it done myself. The use of the leaves of the ilecc is described in the records of the Society. Given the gravity of your wife’s condition, I believed from the first time I saw her that this was the only chance she had.” His lips tightened slightly. “The accounts say that the tea is to be sipped.” He indicated the intravenous tubing that was conveying the precious blue liquid. “Though no mouth, no throat is involved, I estimate the rate of ingestion to be sufficient.”
Cody stared at the steady flow of cerulean fluid that was sliding from the bag into the arm of the woman who meant more to him that life itself. Had they really been friendly antagonists once, in the high green mountains of another continent? It seemed so long ago. Back when the world had been a safer, saner place. Both of them had been happier in the bliss that ignorance brought. They would never, could never, be ignorant again, he knew. That happy, childish state was denied to them even as it was granted to most of the rest of humankind. Such was the inescapable burden of knowledge.
“Then you’ve never done this before,” he commented quietly.
An extravagantly decorated rattle gripped firmly in each hand, Oelefse shrugged. “I can still stop this, if you wish.”
“And do what?” Cody’s tone was anguished. “I have no choice. She has no choice.” His expression pleaded. “Do we?”
“Not if you want her restored to you. There is no other way in my realm of knowledge.”
The archaeologist replied tightly, “Then let her body drink, and Those Who Abide be damned.”
The bag was almost completely drained when Kelli’s recumbent form gave a twitch as violent as it was unexpected. Her muscles reacted sharply to some inner stimulus. Arching at the waist, her whole body rose high off the bed, like a gymnast doing a back bend or a wrestler demonstrating a neck bridge. Trembling like an electrified wire, she let out a long, extended gasp, as if she’d been trapped underwater for some time and was expelling every ounce of liquid she had swallowed in a single furious, heaving exhalation.
Emitting a triumphant cry, Oelefse launched into a chant as enthusiastic as it was intense, shaking both rattles at the undulating figure on the bed, the elegant Continental gentleman Cody knew so well transformed once more into a barbarous bishop engaged in blessing the uncognizant afflicted.
Without waiting for instructions, the younger man leaned over and grabbed his wife’s shoulders, holding her down as she surged and sputtered. No ambiguous blinking for her, no Sleeping Beautyish delicate fluttering of eyelids. Her eyes were wide open and staring. What they saw he did not know, but so far, her range of vision did not include him, or the old man singing energetically at the foot of her bed, or the room that had been her living tomb for many weeks. They were focused on something beyond reality.
Holding her arm as stationary as he could by leaning his greater weight against it, he carefully removed the intravenous tubing. Slipping the tubes out of her face was more difficult because her head tended to jerk uncontrollably from side to side, but he managed to accomplish that as well. Seeing her freed from that medicinal Gordian knot of plastic piping was almost as encouraging as her movements. The removal of the IV drips that had kept her alive did nothing to slow her movements. If anything, they allowed her to convulse more explosively than ever. Though he outweighed her by a hundred pounds, on several occasions her arching form lifted him right off the bed.
Full of Those Who Abide she was—and now they were coming out. Not voluntarily, not to see what was happening, but because they were being forcibly purged. And they were not happy about it.
Flying eel-shapes that were half-slavering jaws spurted from her widely parted lips. They flickered brilliantly in the subdued light of the hospital room, bursts of anemic blue and green light running the length of their malformed bodies like sickly lightning. Upon contacting either of the two men, instead of passing through them as they normally would, they recoiled as if singed. Drifting, floating aimlessly, they sought refuge. But in the sterile room there was no defenseless host available for the taking, no natural vector in which they could find temporary haven.
They began to die.
One by one, the blinding light of exploding blue and green flares filled the room. Though their aspect was wholly sinister, the volatile passing of the Interlopers reminded Cody of colored strobe lights flashing in a discotheque. Except that strobe lights did not moan when they were turned off, and did not bestow individual looks of hatred upon those dancing beneath them.
A corpulent, one-armed shape devoid of flesh emerged from the vicinity of Kelli’s stomach. So hideous was it in appearance, so overwhelmingly gross, that Cody drew back slightly in spite of himself. But he did not let go of his wife. If this worked and she was restored to him, he’d vowed, he would never let go of her again.
The deformed abomination waddled clear of the young woman’s body on a quartet of squat, porcine legs. Bleating threateningly, it hopped froglike down the length of her blanketed body, heading straight for the sing-songing Oelefse. The old man was ready for it. When it leaped at him, with a mouth as wide as its entire body agape, Oelefse brought both rattles together on either side of the bloated, lop-sided skull. It ruptured and died in a spectacular bloom of silent fireworks. Greenish fragments of Interloper clung briefly to the German’s face and shoulders before fading away to nothingness, like embers thrown off by a dying fire. It was the last of the Interlopers that had been dwelling within Kelli Westcott, and its incendiary passing coincided with the easing of her violent convulsions.
Held and comforted in her husband’s arms, she began to settle down. Her back no longer arched acutely, and her eyelids began to flutter. Gradually, her respiration steadied. Oelefse’s chant faded into the aural distance as ethereally as one orchestrated by Holst. The movements of his hands slowed, the rhythmic chattering of the two rattles quieted as he considered the young woman breathing almost normally in the bed. Stopping, he carefully placed the two rattles back in the briefcase. It was once more as quiet as an ordinary hospital room.
“Kelli?” Leaning toward his recumbent wife, a solicitous Cody Westcott moistened his lips, hardly daring to breathe. “Kelli, can you hear me?”
Eyes open, head framed by her halo of shoulder-length hair, she turned toward him. Still trembling, her lips struggled to form words.
“Cody? That is you, isn’t it? Oh, Cody!”
Throwing his arms around her shoulders and back, tears streaming down her face, he lifted her upper body out of the bed, trying hard not to crush her with the trembling force of his grateful embrace. Though weak from lack of activity, she reciprocated, her own arms going under his to hold him as tightly as she was able. She was crying, too.
A paternal smile on his face, Oelefse looked on wordlessly. Such moments required no commentary. Turning away from the restored couple, he glanced around the room. There was nothing hiding in the shadows or glowering malevolently from the corners. It was once again all that a hospital room should be: clean, hygienic, and uncontaminated.
Realizing she was still weak and needed room to breathe, Cody reluctantly broke the embrace. “There were too many times, hon, when I wondered if this moment would ever come. When I wondered if”—he swallowed with difficulty—“I’d ever hear your voice again.”
She was staring straight at him. “I don’t even know what happened, Cody.”
“Interlopers. Those Who Abide. Remember patronizing my efforts to explain them to you? You were infected. Real bad. Were you—in pain?”
“I don’t remember. I don’t think so, but I really can’t remember. Everything is just one big haziness and a vague feeling of bad dreams.” She continued to stare at him. “Then there finally was some pain, and I woke up, and now you’re here.” Her voice fell slightly. “I don’t think I’ll be challenging you on the existence of these things any time again soon. How long—how long have I been asleep?”
“You’ve been in this hospital room for weeks. How long exactly I don’t know offhand. I’d have to check the calendar. I’ve been busy with my friend Oelefse trying to find something that would cure you, would drive the Interlopers out of your system. While you were in a coma we’ve been all the way to Europe and back and now—” Realization caused him to break off abruptly. She was still staring at him, only—she was not staring at him. Something was wrong. Very wrong. It took an effort of will for him to voice the question that could no longer be avoided.
“Kelli? You—you can’t see me, can you?”
Her hands reached out to him, once more gripping his arms. A sorrowful smile creased her weary but still beautiful face. “Yes I can, Cody. My memory fills in the blank places.”
Cursing under his breath, fighting back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him, the archaeologist turned a beseeching face to his friend. “Oelefse, what is this? I thought she would be fully restored: both to me and to herself. It—it’s a temporary condition, isn’t it? It’s just going to take a little while for her sight to return, right?”
Having closed and latched his attaché case the elderly German now moved forward to study the figure sitting up in the bed. Taking Kelli’s face in his hands, he gently manipulated it to and fro, peering into her open, staring eyes. She bore the examination in silence. Internally, Cody was in agony.
“I do not know.” Holding his chin, a concerned Oelefse straightened as he gazed speculatively at the revived woman seated helplessly before him. “This I did not anticipate. There is nothing in the literature about it. Though in cases of such severe infestation, side effects should be expected.”
“Side effects?” In the space of a few minutes, the archaeologist’s emotions had run the gamut from exhalation to dismay. “Oelefse—she’s blind!”
“Possibly. Or perhaps her sight is merely limited. Tell me, my dear, can you see anything? Anything at all? Can you distinguish between light and dark?”
“It’s very strange, Mr. Oelefse.” Turning slowly, Kelli scanned the room. “I wasn’t going to say anything because I thought I was having some kind of hallucinations. But—maybe they’re not hallucinations.” Turning to face Cody, who had not stirred from her side, she smiled. “I wish now I’d been less critical about your comments and observations, Cody.”
“You can see things? Like what?” Taking her hand in his, he squeezed gently. “Don’t be afraid, love. Whatever it is that you’re seeing, tell us. We won’t laugh. God knows we won’t laugh. Not after what we saw in Europe.”
“Well . . .” She was still reluctant. “Over there, for example.” She raised her other hand and pointed. “It looks like the top of a forest, only the trees aren’t trees. They’re like oversized houseplants, only they have colored lights running up and down their sides, and hardly any branches, and they keep weaving back and forth like they’re trying to hypnotize something. The tips of the branches are spitting cold fire.” Her hand shifted. “And over there are a bunch of balloons with tentacles and eyes, only they keep flashing like neon signs, and the eyes are on the ends of the tentacles. And next to them is something like a . . .”
“Gott in Himmel,” Oelefse murmured when she had concluded her description of the sights she saw around her, “her ability to view the world around her has been transposed. She is seeing into the plane of existence you and I visited at Hohensalzburg! This is most remarkable.”
Cody was shaking his head, as if by the very gesture he could make the bad dream he had stepped into go away. “This is crazy! How can that be?”
“It is as I said. Side effects. Because of the danger and difficulty involved in obtaining them, the leaves of the ilecc are rarely put to use. No one ever knows for certain exactly what will result from their application.”
“Well, do something! She can’t live like this. Besides, what if—what if the Interlopers in their elsewhere can now perceive her? Won’t they come after her?”
“Just because she can see them and they her does not mean physical contact will result.” Oelefse continued to watch Kelli, observing every gesture, noting the tiniest reaction. “This is most interesting.”
“Interesting, hell!” Cody bawled. “Fix it! Give her back her normal sight, her vision of this world. Our world.”
Oelefse was slowly tapping a perfectly manicured index finger against his lower lip. “It could be very useful, this. Someone who is fully sighted in the Interlopers’ reality.” The look that came over the archaeologist’s face quickly had the older man making placating gestures. “Take it easy, my young friend. I was only speculating. As a scientist, you must understand that.”
“I understand only that I went to Hell and back to get my wife restored to me, and I want all of her restored. Every iota. Every cell and sense. That includes her vision of reality. I want to be able to look into her eyes again and see them looking back at me—not some unearthly, translucent irregularity.”
“Excuse me, gentlemen?” Calm and controlled, Kelli Westcott sat up in the bed, hands folded neatly in her lap. “Remember me? I don’t know what you’ve been through on my behalf, and I appreciate it, but I have the feeling I’ve been lying in this bed for much too long. Could we maybe discuss what to do next about me somewhere else? If as you indicate, I’m in a hospital, I’d much rather be at home. Can’t we talk about me there?”
So astonished at her sudden recovery were the doctors on duty that they did not even try to hold her another day for observation. With her blindness carefully camouflaged to forestall any objections on the part of the hospital staff, she was discharged into her husband’s custody and released. Approaching their neighborhood, Cody was given a reminder of the dangers that had not vanished simply because his wife’s coma had been broken. The Interlopers who lived in the artificial waterfall that marked the entrance to the community were still there, still waiting hungrily for the next unwary bystander to lean against them and become an unwilling host. The archaeologist was grim-faced as he pulled into the driveway. Cared for by their good-natured neighbors, the house looked intact, undisturbed, and less troubled than its owners. After the traumatic and extraordinary events of the past weeks, the shock of encountering something so familiar, so domestic and comforting, nearly overcame him.
“Are we home?” Gazing blankly, Kelli fumbled for assistance in exiting the car.
“Yes. Yes, Kelli, we’re home. At last. And we’re not going anywhere for a long, long time.” Holding her against him, Cody escorted her up the winding concrete path that led to the front entrance.
Trailing closely behind, his briefcase an expensive extension of his hand, Oelefse countered the archaeologist’s homey assurance. “That is, of course, up to you, my young friend. But if you wish to try and alleviate your wife’s present condition, I am afraid it cannot be done from here. At least, I certainly cannot do it from here.”
Cody paused outside the front door. Ahead lay his home, his refuge, a castle smaller than Hohensalzburg but to him and the one he loved, no less stirring or vital.
“Then you think there’s a chance? You think you can give her back her normal sight?”
“There is nothing wrong with her sight. It is her perception that has become skewed. But I need assistance. I need the help of someone more skilled in such singular matters than myself.”
“We’ve just returned home, Oelefse. I’ve been away for so long, and Kelli”—he squeezed her tightly to him—“Kelli’s been away even longer.”
Tilting back her head and speaking to the sound of his voice, she smiled. “What I’m seeing is actually quite pretty, Cody. Deadly, maybe, if everything you’ve been telling me is true, but still pretty. Otherworldly pretty.” She placed her open palm against his chest. “But I’d much rather be able to see you. If your friend thinks he can do something, then we should do what he says.”
“I know, I know that.” Indecision tore at the archaeologist. “I’ll do—Kelli, I’ll do whatever you want. You’re the one who’s been sick. You just climbed out of a hospital bed. Are you sure you’re up to going somewhere so soon, or do you want to take a couple of days and rest first?”
She didn’t hesitate, turning in the direction of Oelefse’s costly and distinctive cologne. “I want to see my husband again, Mr. Oelefse. I want to see him, and my house, and my cats, and blue sky and growing things that don’t glow. If you think there’s a chance, any chance at all, that you can make that happen, I don’t want to hesitate. Let’s get on with it, right now.” Her smile shone brighter than the polished metal of the medical instruments that had kept her alive. “I’d even like to see you, so I can thank you properly.”
Cody checked the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. “All right, Oelefse. What do we have to do?”
Wizened brows crinkled in thought, and there was a glint in the old man’s eye. Or maybe it was just the passing reflection of the midday sun. When he spoke, it was not to Cody but to his wife.
“My dear Mrs. Westcott—is your passport in order?”