The Psychonaut_Book 1

by Tom G. H. Adams

  Celestia took a sip from her glass. “Our orders have been at odds for over a century now, but any acts of aggression have been sporadic and confined to individuals. The Ukurum have been responsible for an escalation of atrocities in the last month. What happened last night was the final act that tipped the balance.”

  “This means you’re going to tell what you know to the police?” Lotus said.

  Celestia squinted at her. “This is beyond the capability of the authorities. It is not without reason we refer to those outside our orders as the jaded ones.”

  Lotus flared her nostrils. “Well, speaking as a jaded one, I think your ability to deal with these gangsters leaves a lot to be desired. Surely things have gone too far?”

  Merrick put his hand on her wrist. “I’m sorry but she’s right. We’d have a hard time convincing the police about the Ukurum. Lazlo’s people have resources they don’t possess.”

  She pulled her hand away. “I don’t see much evidence of these resources. Here we are, holed up God knows where, and in fear of our lives. Meanwhile Lapin’s killers are still out there.”

  “I admit they put us on the back foot,” Celestia said. “We didn’t know that Shamon had knowledge of the asset we acquired.”

  Merrick looked at her inquisitively. “This asset being ...?”

  Celestia returned his gaze. “That would be you, Merrick.”

  “Me? What are you talking about?”

  “It’s better coming from Lazlo. He has the full history.”

  Merrick looked at his watch. “When did you say he’d be meeting us?”

  “He’ll be along any minute now.”

  Lotus pushed the plate away from her, the food half eaten. “Well you lot can have your conversations. I’m going to get some air.”

  “I’ll show you our gardens,” Celestia said.

  Lotus scowled. “Guide or escort?”

  “Both.”

  “Come and find me when you’re finished,” she said, looking at Merrick.

  He avoided her pointed glare. “No problem.”

  Once on his own, a thousand questions plagued his mind. He’d lost his appetite too and left the sandwich on the plate. The power he’d exerted over Sarlic in their skirmish and his astral journey beyond the gateway were bewildering in themselves. But the idea that he was an asset or a commodity sickened him. He wasn’t going to be used in this way.

  His thoughts were interrupted as Karapetian and Jason bustled in.

  “Merrick, glad to see you’re up and rested. We’ve got a lot to talk about.” They pulled up two intricately carved chairs. Karapetian’s girth dwarfed his seat.

  “Before you start, I’ve got some questions,” Merrick said, folding his arms.

  “First Albany. What happened to him?”

  Karapetian paused before answering. “We had to let him go.”

  “What? As in, let him take a long walk off a short pier?”

  Karapetian sighed. “If you think we had anything to do with his death then you’re mistaken. We found he’d been sleeping with the enemy, so to speak. That’s how the Ukurum knew about you, and why they’ve been one step ahead of us. We simply told him to leave.”

  “You might as well have written his death warrant. You do know they found him in pieces don’t you?”

  “What were we to do? We could hardly forgive him and let him stay.”

  “You could have protected him.”

  “We would have been compelled to detain him. In the end, he saw the sense of walking out the door.”

  Merrick got up and crooked his hand on his hip. “So how vulnerable are we? The Ukurum seem to be exacting a hefty toll.”

  “They have a formidable array of weaponry and personnel at their disposal. But we have the advantage of talent, organisation and superior knowledge.”

  “Especially since Albany enlightened us about Shamon’s next move before he left,” Jason added .

  “He volunteered the info?”

  “Not exactly,” Karapetian replied.

  Merrick threw his hands up in despair. “Come on Lazlo, when the fuck are you going to level with me? If you want me onside you’re going to have to fill me in on the detail. Did you extract the intelligence by torture?”

  Karapetian held up his hand. “Merrick, Merrick, there are better methods than inflicting pain. We were able to use a conventional truth serum on him. Admittedly, we had to hold him down to administer it but that’s as far as it went.”

  “I see.” Merrick walked over to the table and leaned on it with both hands, looking down at Karapetian. “So what makes you any better than the Ukurum?”

  “Sit down Merrick,” Jason said.

  “I’m not in the mood for sitting down. In fact I’m thinking of terminating our agreement.”

  “Hear us out first,” said Karapetian. “There’s some things you should know.”

  Merrick remained standing, his face flushed with red. “Go on then.”

  Karapetian folded his hands. “As we’ve already told you, the wealth of opportunity lying beyond the gateways is within our grasp. It is also within Shamon’s. We learned from Albany that he needs an important artefact to complete the Great Work. A scroll, currently housed in the British Museum as part of a visiting exhibition from the far East, contains the invocations he needs for the ritual. He plans to take it tomorrow night. We, of course, don’t need the scroll as we have your extraordinary talents to gain access to the netherworlds—and he knows this.”

  “Hence the attempt on your life,” put in Jason. “So, before you get all soft hearted about Albany, understand this—it was he who served you up on a plate for Shamon and Sarlic.”

  ~~~

  Lotus stood next to a gargoyle fountain. Metre-high delphiniums and pink-flowered lupins loomed over her. She breathed in the heady fragrance of the garden, but far from soothing her, it clung to the insides of her throat. A bit like Celestia, who hovered a few paces away. It looked like the woman wasn’t going to let Lotus out of her sight.

  Her life was unravelling again, just as she thought it was knitting together in a positive direction. She ran the fingertips of one hand across the palm of the other and tried to think of her options, but the rising panic of her thoughts made it hard to reach a rational decision. Rational? That was a joke. Secret organisations living in mansions, hired killers wielding ninja weapons, and a man she’d known only a couple of days possessing some kind of paranormal talent. She sensed the mystique surrounding Merrick. Wasn’t that what had drawn her to him in the first place? But this whole occult-war thing was at a whole new level.

  She was conscious of Celestia behind her.

  “Are you reading my thoughts?” she said without turning.

  “I don’t need to. It’s written in your body language.”

  “Am I that transparent?”

  “Your feelings are. But there’s a lot of your mind that remains closed to me. I don’t encounter that often.”

  “Is that what it’s like for Merrick too?” she said, finally facing the far-seer.

  “His talent is far more refined and valuable. I just sense changes in the ether caused by dominant personalities. All at a distance. He can get right inside your head, although he chooses not to most of the time.”

  “That’s gentlemanly of him.”

  “That’s his weakness. He needs to recognise that the will must rule the heart.”

  “And you think I’m preventing him doing that?”

  “Since you ask, yes.”

  “Thanks for making me feel wanted.”

  “Your sarcasm is understandable. But there are certain things that are higher, more noble, of greater worth than love.”

  Lotus felt her throat thicken. “You know, I feel sorry for you. You’ve obviously never experienced it.”

  “Oh, that’s where you’re wrong. L’amour—it has crossed my path more than once. I know what it is to drown in its irrationali
ty, to experience the exquisite pain. But in the end it is fleeting. You see our kind are both blessed and cursed. We have seen what is hidden and what is promised. We also know that we are not always free to choose.”

  “I’ve never believed that,” said Lotus. “I think we always have a choice.”

  ~~~

  “A heist?” said Merrick.

  “More of a counter-heist,” Jason replied. “If Shamon takes the scroll then he has everything he needs to breach the gateways. If we have it, he can never do that.”

  “You could just tip off the police. They’d bang him up and have Sarlic brought to justice for Lapin’s murder in the same operation.”

  “Shamon will pull out all the stops for this one,” Karapetian said. An armed police squad will be no match for his thugs. We know what to expect of him.”

  “But you will be complicit in burglary.”

  “We will be complicit, you mean.”

  “Hey, count me out. I’ve had enough excitement for now. The police already have their suspicions about me without adding theft to their list. “

  “We’ll only be taking back what was ours centuries ago.”

  Merrick’s forehead creased. “How come?”

  “Jason, give him the history lesson.”

  Jason pointed to a large painting on the wall. “That mural depicts the sacking of Alexandria by the Parthians. The Syncretic Order of the Hierophants existed even then, albeit under a different name. It possessed the richest collection of occult scrolls and grimoires in the world. Eventually, the Ottoman Empire seized the treasures and placed them in the National Museum of Turkmenistan. Some have found their way back to us over the centuries, but the Archmaenid collection represents the biggest trove of extant manuscripts left.”

  “So you see,” Karapetian said. We’re only reclaiming our family treasure.”

  Merrick wasn’t satisfied. “So this Archmaenid scroll is all you’ll be taking?”

  “We need to take more, otherwise it won’t look like a conventional theft.”

  “What about Shamon? Do you intend to take him out?”

  “If he’s part of the raid, yes. It seems likely he’ll want to oversee the operation directly, to ensure that the scroll falls into his hands, and his only.”

  “He doesn’t trust his own people?”

  “He’d be a fool to. The value of the scroll is well beyond that of mere money. With it in his hands, he will reinforce his supremacy.”

  “What makes you think I’ll be of use in this operation? I messed up at the gateway.”

  “I know you’re uncomfortable with us using your talents, but from what you told us about your mind attack on Sarlic, you’re a heavy gun we could do with.”

  Merrick was pensive. “I don’t know if I can summon it again. Or if I can, whether I’ll be able to control it. Besides, I’ve got no intention of killing anyone.”

  Jason leaned forward. “This is war, Merrick. Make no mistake about it, you’re in it with us now.”

  Merrick did have a conscience. True, it was seared with a hot iron on many occasions through his work for asset strippers, but unsanctioned warfare was quite a jump.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I could be more of a hindrance than a help. If I manage to use these mind bolts it may well drain me like it did last night.”

  “Psychic leach. It’s a common problem for any untrained novice. Your ability to recover from it will improve with time,” Jason said.

  “Roughly how much training do I needed?”

  “The average time period for this sort of skill, assuming daily practice, is about five years.

  “Five years? We don’t have that long.”

  “Fortunately, there’s an alternative.” Jason held out a transparent pack of what looked like Epipens. “A product of our labs. It’s another plant extract. Acts a bit like adrenaline, only it boosts neurotransmitter production in the affected parts of your brain—including the pineal gland.”

  Merrick was suspicious. “I gather you boys know your stuff, but are there any side effects?”

  “Nothing serious. Some suffer mild insomnia for a couple of nights.”

  “Well, I don’t plan on sleeping much I suppose.”

  “So, you’re with us?”

  “I don’t imagine I’m ever going to be dedicated to the cause. Let’s view this as an alliance for now.”

  Karapetian grinned at Jason. “I think it’s the best we can hope for. Tell me, Merrick. How did it feel when you unleashed the force of your mind on Sarlic?”

  He thought for a moment. “I don’t know if I ...”

  “Come now, there’s no need to be coy. Are you afraid to admit you were elated? Ecstatic even?”

  Merrick shrugged. “You got me.”

  “It’s intoxicating isn’t it? No need to be ashamed, only take care you don’t get caught up in it. The emotions your power invokes can be distracting. Now, I need to talk to our task force if we’re to be prepared for tomorrow night.”

  “You don’t hang around do you?”

  Karapetian rose, grunting as he did so. “Shamon moves fast. We have to be faster. Where are we gathering them, Jason?”

  “The dining hall.” Jason looked at his watch. “They’ll be there already.”

  “I’ll go and get Lotus,” Merrick said.

  Karapetian clicked his tongue. “If you don’t mind, I think it best she isn’t privy to our plans.”

  Merrick considered protesting, but given the awkwardness between him and Lotus, he concurred. Best to smooth things out with her once the meeting was over.

  Karapetian’s mansion was labyrinthine, so by the time they arrived at the dining hall he had lost his bearings.

  They arrived to a babble of conversation from the throng gathered in the hall. Merrick estimated some fifty people present— if people was the right term. He didn’t like to stare, but the characters gathered in the wood-panelled space would have made a Clive Barker set look positively mundane. He saw all around him a full spectrum of the grotesque. He passed a woman who’s hair appeared to writhe with snakes. When he looked closely, he thought he must be mistaken. They were just grey, lepidote dreadlocks. Another’s face was a mass of red, bubbling lava—a single eye stared back at him from the molten visage.

  “Now do you see why we didn’t invite your girlfriend?” Jason said.

  “Good move,” Merrick said. “But if you were planning to keep this counter-heist under the radar then you might have done better than invite the cast of a horror film.”

  “We’re a shunned culture,” said Jason. “We’re also family.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

  “We’ve never had a problem recruiting to our order. Vagabonds and refugees gravitate to us. They seem to sense that this is home. As to our unique outward appearances, many have the gift of illusion. They can extend this to others around them. In this place however, there is no need for subterfuge.”

  Celestia waited at the side of the hall under an oil painting depicting Saturn devouring his son. Merrick looked at it. “I didn’t think Karapetian went in for copies.”

  “It’s not a copy,” she said, her face inscrutable.

  “Of course it is. The original is in Madrid’s Prado Art Museum.”

  “That’s what everyone thinks. In fact, they have a perfect facsimile. Painted by our very own Albany.”

  Merrick licked his lips. “You mean, the late Albany.”

  Celestia ignored the remark. “Lotus has gone back to your room. She said she’d see you there after.”

  “Fine.”

  Karapetian clapped his hands and silence descended on the assembly.

  “My friends, the time is upon us. The enemy has harried our order for long enough, and now it is time for us to have our mischief.”

  The leader of the Hierophants seemed less a doyen and more of a conductor. His words carried an authority that invited attention rat
her than demanded it. “You’re all aware of recent events, and the impending fruition of our labours. You also know what Jagur Shamon intends to do. I have chosen you for your talents and your loyalty. I know you won’t disappoint me.”

  Karapetian’s words left his audience spellbound, but Merrick could detect a subtle perturbation rippling through the room.

  “He’s quite convincing,” Merrick said under his breath.

  “You asked me what his powers were. Now you see,” Celestia replied. “Shamon rules by coercion and fear. Lazlo commands the hearts and minds of his followers. They would die for him.”

  “That’s a considerable advantage. But do they know he’s manipulating them?”

  “Some do, others choose not to know.”

  “How about you?”

  “Karapetian promises stability and a sharing of the yield. He has his faults but I would rather be on his side than the alternative.”

  “Yield? An interesting way to describe the spoils of war.”

  She smiled. “I used to be cynical like you, but I realised I could only accomplish so much on my own. Karapetian employs his skills to unify the disparate. It is a willing confederation you see here. I strive and work for the greater good.”

  They both turned their attention back to the maestro.

  “And so to practicalities,” Karapetian said. He seemed to dominate the room in every sense of the word. He pressed a button on a remote and a data projector hummed into life. A plan drawing of the British Museum appeared on a screen behind him.”

  “The display is a bit secular isn’t it?” said Merrick.

  “If you want flamboyancy or trivial uses of magick, join the Ukurum,” the Frenchwoman whispered.

  Karapetian proceeded to outline the security arrangements at the museum and the likely infiltration points open to the Ukurum. Merrick got lost in the detail and dilated his third eye further.

  Karapetian remains an iron curtain. This is disturbing but not unexpected. Celestia is committed. Also reserved. She’s a survivor, but retains a certain morality. She’s no cockroach. Jason is comfortable in his position but not complacent. He accepts Karapetian’s authority but doesn’t kowtow. He’s a pragmatist and recognises his leader’s strengths. The select detail congregated represent a continuum of motives and aspirations. For the most part they’re grateful and confident in their talents—which are many.