Fornby had kept his word. He had found Vladimir Boyka and the man was still in Berlin. After all those years it was a small miracle. One they could use now.

Brockmann left the flat and knew they had a new problem with the eager young police woman. She had agreed to help for now, but eventually she would turn on them. She had to. She seemed also to be a good soldier. A good cop. Almost the same.

He called himself a taxi and told the Turkish driver the address. Weißensee. Altersheim zum Guten Zwecke. Carehome of the Good Cause. A luxury carehome for elderly people. Boyka had seemingly come to wealth in the days after the wall had went down.

The city passed by as Brockmann wartched it through the window. Berlin had become a terribly young city. Bars and clubs everywhere. Restaurants lining up in the old streets of Eastern Berlin. He remembered the times when these had been bleak grey streets for people to live in. The days the streets had been full of Trabant cars, because they were the only cars available to those few who could afford one. People had to wait a decade to get one. TVs were even worse. Some people still had only radio in the eighties when he had lived here. He remembered how people had looked at him, when he passed the streets in his uniform. How some admired him and others quickly passed him, seeing only a part of the oppressive force they called their Government. His father had been working at a factory near Dresden all his life and had barely enough to eat. Brockmann had felt the same oppressive force. He had been part of it, but he had known what they meant. People had vanished in the secret prisons of the STASI, the secret police of the political party, the only political party that had held their fake elections every four years. Nothing had ever changed back then and nothing had been meant to change. Nothing had been allowed to change. They had not been able to stop the change though. Nothing could stop change. In the end it had wiped away the system with a force they could not stop. Thinking about it, he felt the strangeness of the city was probably a good thing. Maybe this was what freedom looked like.

Vladimir Boyka. He remembered all too well how they had met for the first time.

****

„What is this?“ Brockmann yelled, fighting against the restraints that kept him in place on the bed in the hospital. He did not know which hospital it was or even if it was a real hospital. he had been brought ere in an ambulance without windows. They had x-rayed him, had taken blood. Nobody had talked to him. Nobody had said a word. When they talked with each other he often heard them talk in Russian.

Chernaya Zvezda, he heard the term several times. Often when people identified themselves who entered the room. the Black Star. They seemed to belong to a division called the Black Star and the whole operation had KGB written all over it. A Russian operation in the German Democratic Republic was not unusual. They were a satellite state of the mighty Soviet Union after all. But something of this extend?

„My name is Dr. Vladimir Boyka.“ The man over him said. He looked down with his brown eyes. He was wearinga face mask, a rubber suit and some sort of helmet with lights attached to it. The eyes were behind protective glasses made of plastic. „You have been infected with a rather dangerous parasite, Mr. Brockmann.“ He said.

„Private Brockmann!“ He yelled. „I am a member of the JVA and I demand to be released immediately!“ Brockmann yelled.

„You will not be released. If we released you, you would turn into one of those men you killed. A lunatic. A murderous lunatic. That is what the parasite does.“ Boyka said. Brockmann stared at him.

„Will you kill me?“ Brockmann asked.

„Hopefully not.“ Boyka said and presented a needle with a grayish fluid inside. „This is a poison that will kill the parasite. You have a god chance of surviving it, yet it will be rather uncomfortable.“ Boyka explained.

„How good?“ Brockmann asked.

„Pardon?“ Boyka asked. His Germnan was perfect. No accent.

„How good are my chances of survival?“ Brockmann asked.

„Thirty percent of all test cases survived.“ Boyka said.

„No, please ...“ Brockmann plead for his life. thirty recent. Three out of ten.

„We will not be able to remove the parasite, asi th as attached itself to your spine, but we believe once t is dead it will stop releasing the hormones that cause the undesired effect.“ Boyka explained. Two soldiers in ABC suits appeared and grabbed. Brockmann‘s arm. „I am truly sorry, Mr. Brockmann.“ Boyka said. „Private Brockmann.“ He corrected himself and the needle went into Brockmann‘s arm.

****

Brockmann asked at the reception and they told him Vladimir Boyka was in 27c. He oriented himself at the map that was hanging everywhere and began to walk through the long corridors. Old people were driven around a wheelchairs, or they used those strange things that helped with walking. He saw food being deployed by nurses in grey clothes. It smelled reasonably well for an installation like this. When he passed some of the rooms the smell of urine and sweat was unbearable. A cardholders was place they brought old people to die, he realized. Die slowly and comfortably. Their lives were over. All that was left was bringing them here to wait for their death.

It took him fifteen minutes to reach 27c and he knocked at the door and waited.

„Herein!“ The aged voice of Boyka yelled. Come in. Brockmann followed the invitation. The room was rather large, larger than the ones he had passed. A bed stood at the side that was adjustable in height. Then there was a small table, a couch and a seat, also adjustable in height. Boyka sat in the seat and looked at Brcokmann as he came in. He was old. A shadow of the man he had met forty years ago. But those brown eyes were still the same. Brockmann would never forget them. he had faced death twice that day and those eyes had been the deliverers of the second time.

„Dr. Boyka.“ Brockmann said and it was not a question. The man looked at him and then chuckled.

„A visitor. What a rare honor.“ He said and his voice was thin and failed a little.

„You probably do not remember me.“ Brockmann began and closed the door. He passed the room. There were books at a small desk behind the door. Zoology. Medical journals. Brockmann ignored them and instead sat down on the couch.

„Of course I remember you Private Brockmann.“ He said.

„Only Brockmann nowadays. I was expelled form the army when I deserted into the west.“ Brockmann said. Boyka raised his brows.

„Nasty, nasty boy. Running off to the winners just in time, hm?“ He chuckled. „Smart. Very smart.“ He sat up and looked at Brockmann. It was an evaluating look.

„I would have defected, but I knew they would send someone after me if I did.“ Boyka finally said.

„They send someone after me.“ Brockmann said.

„Yet, you are still here and he is not I guess.“ Boyka said and his eyes gleamed n amusement.

„Yes.“ Brockmann said.

The Doctor was silent for a moment, but his face turned serious, loosing this boyish grin that was so often found in old men at the end of their lives. „So it is back.“ He finally said.

„Yes, it is back.“ Brockmann said.

„This damned worm. It cost me everything, you know? My career, my privileges, my son,“ He shook his head. „Now that I am to damned old to do anything about it, it finally returned.“ He looked at Brockmann.

„You know more than anyone about it. You can still help me stop it.“ He said.

„I never stopped researching it you know? You, you gave hope.“ He leaned forward. „You were the first to survive the treatment. We were still looking for the right mix back then.“ He had pain in his eyes. Brockmann wondered how many he had injected with a deadly dose before him.

„What about the thirty percent?“ Brockmann asked.

„What?“ Boyka seemed not to remember.

„You said thirty percent survived before me.“ Brocmann said.

„I lied.“ Boyka said and chuckled again. As if a little boy broke out of him for a moment. Then he grabbed a simply walking stick next to him and forced himself up.

Brockmann was not surprised about the lie. He was surprised about the old man getting up.

„Where do yoiu wanna go?“ He asked.

„You want answers. I have answers. We need to go where the answered are, of course.“ He began walking to the door, slowly, with insecure steps, leaning on his stick every step. Brockmann got up and easily catched up to him.

„Is it still there? In your back?“ Boyka asked. Brockmann walked next to him. The old man knew how to find the fastest way out.

„Yes, it is.“ Brockmann said.

„Does it hurt?“ The Doctor asked.

„Yes. It hurts right now.“ Brockmann said.

„Forty years of backpain. I guess it did not let you forget so easily what you have been through, right?“ Boyka chuckled again. Brockmann said nothing. He would never have forgotten anyway.

****

They walked to the street and Boyka needed Brockmann‘s help to get into the bus. Few people were in there, but Brockmann stayed silent. What they had to discuss was not for those people. Boyka seemed to agree.

„Did you work for the Americans?“ He asked then.

„No.“ Brockmann said. „Someone else recruited me.“

„The Director! You joined Nocturne!“ Boyka hissed at him and Brockmann looked at him and finally nodded.

„I still do.“ He answered.

„Good for you, Good for you.“ Boyka said.

„You seemed to have done okay yourself.“ Brockmann said.

„Real Estate. I bought land cheaply and sold it for a lot of money to greedy rich westerners.“ Boyka said. „The Dirextror understood always the truth.“ He then said. The worm was off limits, but he seemed to feel comfortable talking about secret societies.

„What truth is that?“ Brockman asked.

„Mundus Bult Decipi. Brockmann. The world wants to be betrayed. Look at those young people with their mobiles and social networks, They do not wanna know what is out there. They want to be lied to. How many dead do we have so far?“

Brockmann sighed. „A few dozen.“ He said.

„Nothing. nothing compared to last time.“ Boyka shook his head. „Here we are. My sons wife lives over there. In that house.“ He pointed at a rather large house at the side of the street. The bus driver stopped and they got out. It took an eternity for Boyka to climb down the stairs from the bus.

„My old nemesis. Stairs.“ He laughed. Brockmann did not say anything.

The old man passed the street and a car had to stop for him. Brockmann followed. Then they entered the garden and walked up to the large white door. Marie Boyka the label on the post box said.

„Where is your son?“ Brockmann asked.

„Dead. He wanted to complete my work and it cost him his life.“ The Cotor said with a sudden bitterness in his voice. His shaking hand slowly set down ion the door bell and he pressed it, turning around to Brockmann and smiling.

A woman with dyed blonde hair opened the door, probably the age of Brockmann. She was wearing expensive clothes. The whole house looked expensive.

„Vlad, you know you shall call me when you want to visit, I can pick you up!“ She said.

„I had help form an old friend.“ The Doctor said and pointed at Brockmann.

„Did you check out?“ She asked.

„No time.“ He said and walked in.

„Ma‘am.“ Brockmann said and followed. The woman rolled er eyes.

„I will call the carehome, so they do not report you missing.“ She said.

„We need to go into the cellar.“ The Doctor said and the woman gave him a look that was mix of concern and anger. Then she nodded and walked away.

„A good woman.“ Boyka said. „Left everything untouched, even after what it did to her husband.“ He explained. Brockmann did not really understand hat he meant, but followed him. The old man went to the door to the cellar and began an incredibly slowy decent. Every step caused him pain, Brockmann could see that. He followed slowly and downstairs was a large cellar, crowded with furniture and boxes. Boyka passed it, until he arrived at the end. A large green metal door was there, locked with a complicated mechanism.

„What is this?“ Brockmann asked.

„Open it.“ Boyka said. Brockmann did as he was told. it took all his strength, but finally the mechanism clicked and the door was surprisingly easy to slide aside. Behind it were more stairs.

„After you.“ Boyka said. Brockmann looked at him. The old man had not the strength to close this door, so he began to descend. He heard the gasping of Boyka behind hi man’s the old Doctor followed him under pain.

****

It was dark downstairs and Brockmann began searching for a ligthswitch with his hand.. He finally found it and the halogen lights at the ceiling flickered alive.

The room was surprisingly large and Brockmann heard himself gasp as he saw what it was. Six large glass tubes were at the center of the room. They all contained worms similar to the one he had brauend. Not only in shape, but also in size. One was even larger, floating in transparent fluid in the center. None of them moved. To the left were five glass cabinets, all filled with vials. Brockmann saw most of them contained smaller worms, the sitze he had seen in the flat of Bergmann. Machines were in the back of the room. A centrifuge. Some sort of large analysis machine. Computers. Two desks filled with printed papers. In the very back was a platform with restraints, clearly made for humans. Brockmann did not wanted to imagine what they had used that one for.

„I never stopped researching it.“ Boyka proudly said. Brockmann turned half around to him and his hand in his pocket pushed the button of the recording device he had there. An old fashioned one using cassettes.

„I thought all specimen were destroyed.“ Brockmann said.

„Oh another lie, I am afraid. I took a dozen worms from the site after you took care of the King!“ Boyka leaned on his walking stick and pointed with his hand to the large specimen in the central glass tube. „One was a new king. Long live the king!“ He laughed. „It never grew to full site. We only gave it enough nutrition to stay alive so we could study it.“ Boyka said.

„They can spawn new Wormkings?“ Brockmann asked.

„Oh yes, occasionally. One among a thousand worms this things gives birth two has the potential to be another king. I assume that is the way they spread originally. The second king would establish a new colony and spread from there.“ Boyka said and he made his way to one of the few chairs in the room and sat down.

„Where did they come from?“ Brockmann asked.

„Oh we cannot be sure. But I studied their physiognomy and I think they come from another time.“ He said.

„What do you mean?“ Brockmann said.

„Well, they have the ability to survive in the state of complete freezing. They can basically survive indefinitely when frozen. I assume the creatures are prehistoric, actually. We tracked down one to an institute back then, which was dealing in the analysis of ice probes. The Black Star believed that is how the Wormking came here. Frozen in ice in his larva form.“ Boyka looked at Brockmann. Brockmann only stared back.

„Maybe it was not an asteroid killing the dinosaurs after all hm?“ Boyka asked and chuckled again. Brockmann nodded and turned to the glass tube.

„Are they dead?“ He asked.

„The big ones we killed, yes. Some of the smaller ones we kept in a frozen state.“ Boyka said. „They are incredibly resilient these creatures. They have a unique nervous system, which acts almost like a decentralized brain. It can develop strategies, learn, remember even.“ Boyka smiled. „I hope he remembered me when I Wenatchee him die. The King.“

Brockmann walked through the glass tubes.

„How can we stop it then?“ He asked.

„Ih that is why you are here. I perfected the poison. No more dying test subjects.“ Boyka laughed.

„You tried it on humans?“ Brockmann asked.

„Of course. We needed to know if it worked. My son got us homeless who we paid handsomely for their service to the world of science.“ He said. Brockmann nodded again, but this time his lip curled up in disgust. He had been one of those test subjects once.

„So out there are people who carry a dead worm inside of them. Like me.“ Brockmann said.

„Yes, a few.“ Boyka answered. „The poison needs to be given early after three infection. It looses a lot of it‘s effectiveness when they grow to stage two.“ Boyka‘s voice was strenger now. Clearer. He had probably waited for years rot share this.

„What did you do wirth the test subjects that it did not work on?“ Brockmann asked.

„There is an oven back there.“ Boyka pointed at an opening in the wall.

„Understand.“ Brockmann said. He was at the desk now and wiped his hand over it. Dust. „So what happened?“ Brockmann asked. Clearly this place had not been used in a while.

„My son died.“ Boyka said. „That is what happened.“ Boyka got up with an angry gesture and almost fell over. He managed to stay on his feet. He walked over to the large glass tube in the center and hammered his waking stick against its.

„He killed my son!“ Boyka hissed now. „So I killed him.“

Brockmann looked at the old man and he knew this mix of guilt and anger. The frustration of having failed to protect someone. If it was the own child he could not imagine how it must feel.

„How did it happen?“ Brockmann asked and came closer.

„He gave birth to his successor. Specimen 1227. His one thousand and two hundred twenty seventh spawn. Another Wormking. For the first time my son saw one of them come to life. The neurological activity of the larva was spectacular. The growth rate much more accelerated than that of usual worms. At least in the beginning. The Wormking needs a lot of nutrition to grow steadily and even then it often takes years for him to grow to his full size. Roman, my dear boy, he was not satisfied with my research on the first king. He wanted to dig deeper, understand it‘s development also on a genetically level, you know?“ Boyka returned to his seat. „He was afraid. He thought of things I had never even considered and it scared the hell out of him.“ The Doctor sighed.

„Things like what?“ Brockmann asked.

„Animals.“ Boyka said. „Could it infect animals? Imagine a Wromking secretly infecting the rat population. The mice. The dogs and cats.“ Boyka nodded.

„Can it?“ Brockmann asked and even he had to swallo hard at the thought.

„Yes, it can infect them. The host does not survive very long, though. It drains too much of him. Every worm needs a certain amount of ... material ... to grow without killing the host. Rats died within an hour. Mice even faster. A dog makes it to the evening when infected at dawn. Cats not even that far. We had a small zoo here, haha. I remember. We even infected horses, cows, sheep.“ Bopyka sat down. „Brilliant work. My son did brilliant work. He did not enjoy it, though. I saw him one night burning a cow out in the fields and I thought he hates this.“ Boyka smiled. „It can infect cows, by the way.“ He whispered as if telling a secret and finally having arrived at his seat he slowly and under pain sat back in it to rest.

„What happened to him?“ Brockmann asked. The Doctor looked up.

„I do not know exactly what happened to him. He actually called me one afternoon. He worked as a scientist for some private research lab. He called me from the lab and told me he had it in him. He felt it, he said. I told him to come home immediately, but he did not wanted to. I do into think I have that kind of time, Dad.“ Boyka looked to the floor. „That is what he said.“ Brockmann leaned against the table nearby.

„I told him I would come to him and bring the serum. The poison, to kill the worm. He said he had taken it already. It had not worked. It does not work on him, Dad. That is what he told me. It does not work on him.“ Boyka looked up. Looked at Brockmann. „I came down here immediately and checked specimen 1227. It was not there. He had been infected with the Wormking.“

„He ignored the security precautions?“ Brockmann asked.

„Never. He was way more serious about laboratory standards than I ever was. No, I never found out how it had happened.“ Boyka said. Brockmann walked over to the glass cabinet and went through them, until he found vile 1227 in a line with others, all filled with frozen worms.

„What did he do about it?“ Brockmann asked.

„He blew up his lab. It was all over the news. A terrible accident. His body burned to ashes and with it the Wormking. A terrible death.“ Boyka said. „I came here for a lasst time and injected the serum into the tanks. Not large quantities. No, I wanted to see them suffer. Curl in their prison, trying desperately to survive, also their fight was doomed to fail. I suffered a stroke while down here. Thank God Maria ignored the holy rule of never coming down here that day. When I was missing for an hour, she came down and found me. the whole thing ended me up in this carehome prison I am in now, though. I think Maria could not bare my presence anymore. She never said sa thing, but she blamed me for it.“ Boyka said.

„I am sorry.“ Brockmann said, but without too much emotion. „So how is it back now?“ He asked Boyka.

„I do not know. Maybe it lay dormant all those years, maybe it had no host to infect. Festering in the dark somewhere, waiting patiently on a victim to stumble over it and begin it‘s reproduction cycle anew.“ Boyka looked at Brockmann. „The Wormking is very different from his children. It can survive alone, without a host. It has to, considering the size it grows. All it needs is to feed. The children cannot survive long outside a host.“ Boyka said.

Brockmann pulled his brows together. „How long?“ He asked.

„A few minutes. An hour was the longest we ever encountered.“ Boyka said.

„Do you have more of this serum you mentioned?“ Brockmann asked then. Something was not right with this last comment.

„A hundred doses are stored in the last cooler to the right. You can have as many as you need. They must be given early on, though. As early as possible. The larger these things get, the more unlikely a single dose will kill them and the more doses you inject the less likely the host will survive this.“ Boyka explained. Brockmann nodded and walked over to the last cooler. Indeed there were syringes in it. A hundred standing upwards, numbered and sorted. High and low dose. Medium, too. He opened it and took two of each. Then it strikes him what was wrong about the story.

„We encountered a worm today, one that was escaping a dead host probably. It had survived a full day without a host.“ Brockmann turned to Boyka. The man shook his head.

„No, it did not.“ The Doctor said.

Brockmann pushed the syringes into his opockets and walked back to Boyka.

„A young woman found it crawling up her back, trying to infect her probably.“ Brockmann said and Boyka still shook his head.

„Was anybody else with her?“ Boyka asked. Brockmann shook her head.

„Then it is obvious, isn‘t it?“ Boyka smiled a tortured smile.

„You mean ...“ He widened his eyes,.

„She is infected. The worm was not crawling up on her, it crawled down as the worm inside of her spawned it.“ Boyka said with a cool voice.

Brockmann turned and began to run upo the stairs as fast as he could.