Psychomech by Brian Lumley

Author:Brian Lumley
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Horror, Psychopaths, Fiction, Science Fiction, Horror Fiction, General, Heroes
ISBN: 9780312853716
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 1984-01-02T02:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Lovi berthed La Ligurienne at the end of a jutting concrete quay, and with Garrison’s permission he and the four members of his crew went ashore. Left to their own devices, Garrison and Koenig prepared for the night’s business and half an hour later, clad in open-necked, lightweight evening suits, made their way from the motor-yacht to the seafront.

To anyone who watched them it might seem that Koenig was the blind one, or a partial cripple at least, for he was a bit slow and leaned heavily on his stick. Also, he had seemed to age by at least ten years. Garrison, to the contrary, went with the unerring certainty of a man with all his senses intact, ’remembering’ something of the way from his dream and knowing a tingling sensation of deja vu which at once alarmed and excited him.

It was still quite early, not yet 9.30, but already the lights of the town were a riot of colour. The place must recently have known some festive occasion, for bunting was still in evidence across the streets and looped between the palms along the promenade. Even though the tourist season was not yet fully into its swing, the warm weather had brought people out to enjoy the balmy evening. The open-air restaurants and cafes were busy; the bars thronged with people.

German, Swiss and French accents - even a few British ones - mingled strangely with the native Italian; which, together with the hooting of car and scooter horns from the road, and juke box music from the cafes, painted a picture in Garrison’s mind of some great polyglot fairground. In other circumstances it was a picture he might have paused to absorb and enjoy, but not tonight. Tonight it only served to disorientate him.

Finding a vantage point, a hastily erected bandstand or speaker’s platform standing on the seaward side of the road that ran parallel with the curve of the small bay, the two climbed rough plank steps to where they could stand and survey the scene. ‘Describe it to me,’ Garrison eagerly instructed.

Koenig commenced a brief description of the promenade’s main features, but as soon as he mentioned an open-sided, canopied restaurant that spanned the width of an old, disused stone wharf, Garrison stopped him.

‘That last place,’ said the blind man, his voice hushed. ‘Describe it again, but in greater detail. What does it-look like, this place with the canopy?’

The wharf was no more than thirty or forty yards away, its canvas-roofed dining area bordered by fragile-looking white rails which were intended to prevent unwary or drunken customers falling into the somewhat oily waters of the bay. At the back of the covered area a brick building, probably a landing stage in the old days, had been converted into a huge kitchen and wine store. Derelict stone steps went down from a bricked-up door in the now blank wall of the kitchen to the idly washing sea. There were people seated beneath the canopy, but not many. With its commanding view of the bay, the place would be an expensive spot to eat.

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