Life After Humanity

by Gillian St. Kevern

  Nate’s collection of plants spilled over the fire escape above them. The splash of green made something within him ease. It was stupid to think that just because the plants were fine, Nate was also fine—but he did think it. He lingered, wondering if Nate would step outside, but Diya found her keys.

  “There! Take the front seat.”

  It wasn’t until he was sitting in the passenger’s seat that Ben realized he might be in danger—his last unexpected car ride had ended in interrogation at the Registry, after all. But the destination that Diya had in mind was not threatening, but baffling. She pulled into the parking lot attached to a high rise building in New Camden’s outer suburbs.

  “An apartment building? What are we doing here?” Ben turned to watch Diya.

  She was intent on her rear view mirror as she parked. “You’ll see.”

  She didn’t talk as she led Ben through a door that required a security code and then into an elevator. By the time the elevator reached their destination, she already had her key in hand. As she unlocked the door of an apartment, Ben glanced around.

  There were large pots with flowers on either side of the elevator, and the corridor they walked down was neat. The sounds of conversation floated out from an open door. It was a typical apartment block in other words—which made their presence there even more mysterious.

  Diya stepped through the door. “Come on in.”

  It could only be her apartment. It followed the same decorating scheme as her office, only this time, vibrant color had been allowed to run amok. It was like looking at a modern art painting that you could sit on. There was a faint smell of perfume in the air—or was it spice?

  “Make yourself comfortable,” Diya said, putting her briefcase down on the bright-red sofa. “I’m going to let mother know we have a visitor.”

  But a harsh-faced woman had already stepped through a doorway, her gaze going through Ben and settling on Diya. She wore a sari, and her hair was tightly pulled back in a long braid. She asked a question in a language Ben didn’t recognize.

  She doesn’t see me. Ben swallowed. No matter how often it happened, it didn’t get easier.

  “Mr. Hawick,” Diya said. “You can’t see him because of the restrictions, but he’s a friend. He’ll understand.”

  Ben resisted the urge to raise his eyebrows. Understand what?

  Diya’s mother added a few more sharp words, before turning into the kitchen.

  “One moment.” Diya hurried after the other woman, drawing the door closed behind her.

  Ben looked around the room. The living-dining room area was modern and polished, everything sleek and bright. There was only one incongruous note—a statue of a many-armed figure on a shelf in one corner. Candles were placed before it and a photo in a brass frame. A young man in traditional garb. Ben suddenly became aware that he wasn’t alone. He looked up to see Diya watching him.

  “My husband, Rohit,” Diya said. “He was killed in a vampire attack over a year ago.”

  Ben swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Follow me.” Diya beckoned Ben down a corridor.

  It looked like a normal apartment with one exception. One door was fastened shut with five separate bolts. Instead of the usual lock, a heavy-duty steel lock had been installed.

  Ben felt a sense of alarm. This is not a good sign. He stole a covert glance at Diya, sliding back the bolts with a grim expression. What did he know of her besides her brisk professional manner and her dedication to getting his application approved? She was the victim of a vampire attack and had lost her husband to one. She had no reason to want to help Ben, a former vampire—

  Diya drew a chain from around her neck. There was a key on the end of it that she used to unlock the door. She stepped into the room. “The vampire attacked me first. I was pregnant. Rohit died protecting me and our child.”

  Ben remained in the doorway scanning the room. It was decorated in soft yellow, with low bookcases and a child-sized table and chairs. Stuffed toys were scattered across a cot and there was a changing table against one wall. Behind the cheerfully painted dresser were thick, blackout curtains. Why does a child’s room need blackout curtains? Especially if there’s no child… Ben knew the chances of any pregnancy surviving the trauma of a vampire attack were nil.

  Diya stepped over to check that the blinds were tightly drawn. As she moved past the changing table, Ben caught sight of a familiarly shaped object resting upon it.

  Ben stared. That’s not—a coffin?

  It was an infant-sized coffin. Diya paused in front of it, looking down. “Anjali wasn’t supposed to survive, but I didn’t give up hope. She was stillborn—or that’s what the doctor said. I was allowed to hold her in my arms, and as I did, something very strange happened. My dead child started to breathe.”

  Ben sucked in a sharp breath. He joined Diya, standing before the coffin.

  Diya opened the coffin, revealing a small baby, at first sight, sleeping peacefully. Her absolute stillness told a different story. “She was not supposed to survive. She is not supposed to exist now. When dawn came and her heart stopped, the hospital told me there was nothing to be done… But I brought her home.”

  Ben swallowed. He was no expert on children, but this wasn’t a newborn. The little girl had thick, glossy curls that clung to her head, and her skin was not wrinkled. She was small, incredibly delicate-looking. “And when night fell?”

  “She opened her eyes. She—there is no such thing as a living vampire. But her heart beats, she breathes, and she drinks milk. She is not even a year old, but her existence breaks every rule in the book—and that is all the Registry will care about.”

  Ben stared down at the tiny child. “That’s why you’re helping me.”

  Diya frowned, still looking down at her child. “Anjali is growing. For now, I can keep her safe inside this room, but realistically, I know that I can’t hide her forever. And once people learn about her…”

  Ben winced. “The laws on vampires are written for adults based on the assumption that a child doesn’t possess the necessary self-control to hold their inner monster in check.”

  “She would be destroyed. For the good of the city—unless we can rewrite the rules surrounding vampires, prove that there are exceptions to what we know about them.” Diya gripped the edge of the cot. “I know it’s selfish of me to look at your case as helping our cause, but you—you’re a benchmark case, Bennet. What the council decides will determine how other decisions are made in the future. If you can prove that being a vampire is reversible, that you can adapt to an ordinary life—don’t you see how that opens up so many possibilities for others?”

  Ben tilted his head at Diya. “Others?”

  She stroked her daughter’s hair. “I don’t speak simply of myself and Anjali. There are others in New Camden in situations similar to yours, but they don’t have your reputation or your resources—or your bravery.”

  Bravery? Ben opened his mouth to protest, but Diya continued.

  “I fully believe that if we succeed in having your application approved, more supernaturals will come forward with their experiences—and we’ll learn even more about living vampirism. Anjali might one day be allowed to go to school, make friends—you can have the life you want. And many, many others, living in fear or in hiding, unable to reveal their true selves, will have hope.”

  “And if we lose?”

  Diya shut the coffin lid. “Then I am afraid we will see the restrictions on supernaturals tightened, and more pressure placed on those who don’t fit the accepted understanding of supernaturals. Anyone different will either have to hide or be subjected to rigorous investigation and controls.”

  Ben stared down at the coffin without seeing it. His thoughts were on Nate. Nate can’t hide what he is any more than I can act human for an entire day. When Diya talks of supernaturals at risk, she means him—and others like him.

  “I know it’s not fair to burden you with my struggles,” Diya said softly. “
But I wanted you to see that there is more than your future at stake. This decision—it could save lives, Bennet. But to win it… I need your full cooperation.”

  Ben’s head snapped up. “You don’t mean—”

  Diya tucked her hair out of her face. “We’re running out of time. The expert can’t give us another appointment. If we want to prove that the vampire is gone, we have to go to ARX.”

  Ben stared at her and then abruptly turned to face the blackout curtains. His chest felt tight, his heartbeat suddenly tangible.

  “I’m truly sorry,” Diya said. “If there was any other way—”

  “No,” Ben said. “I understand.” He took a deep breath. After the experience of waking up with Nate dead, he no longer feared what Saltaire might do. “You’ve made the appointment?”

  Diya shook her head. “Not without your permission.” She clutched the edge of her scarf. “You agree?”

  Ben nodded. “Call them.” It was a risk. ARX employed the best supernatural researchers in the world and gave them the best equipment. Convincing them of his humanity would be hard. If he failed—there would be no second chances. Saltaire would know—equally as unpleasant an option as anything the Registry could do.

  But so what? Ben rested his hand on the bed, looking down at the child’s toys. She’s totally innocent. A baby—it’s not fair she has to go through this. Me… If Diya’s right and we can win this, she’ll have a better chance of having any sort of life. If we don’t… Ben put his hands in his pockets. I’m already fucked up beyond all belief. Nothing can change that—so why not accept it and use it?

  Diya ended her call. “Great news. They’re very interested in your case, and they’re willing to see us immediately.”

  Ben nodded. He felt calm, as if a weight had been lifted. He knew what he needed to do. “Then let’s go.”

  THE ARX BUILDING looked exactly like he’d seen it last. A modern, square-shaped building constructed from gleaming glass and metal. It was only when you got close that you realized the glass was tinted, hiding the interior from the view of those outside. It was just one of the myriad protections ARX took on behalf of its clients’ privacy and protection.

  Ben waited beside Diya as the security guard called to confirm they were expected before letting them in. He’d made no sign of performing anything but the casual inquiry, but Ben had felt a faint magical awareness wash over him. When they stepped over the threshold, he felt the powerful buzz of the wards around the building.

  Just like nothing’s changed. Diya paused to consult her phone, and Ben looked around. To the right was the reception area with screened booths for potential clients to wait for a security consultant in privacy. Ben had rarely consulted with the public. He looked down the corridor to the left. He’d spent his summers interning in ARX’s labs and undertaken his first investigations. It was strange being back in the corridor, knowing that he was the subject of the inquiry.

  “This way.”

  Diya fell into step beside him. “You’re sure?”

  “You forget. I used to work here.”

  Diya glanced at him. “Will it be difficult seeing your former colleagues?”

  Ben shook his head. “It’s going to be strange. But I was only here with the daytime staff for a few summers before…shifting to nights. After that, I didn’t have much contact with the staff at all.”

  A tall man, old but with a vigorous crop of white hair, advanced down the corridor to join him. “There you are. I was just coming to fetch you. Ms. Patel, I presume? I’m Dr. Fagen.” He shook hands with Diya before turning to Ben. “Ben, of course, needs no introduction.”

  Ben’s heart sank. Fagen was the head of ARX’s research department. That he was personally greeting them said a lot for how seriously ARX was taking his investigation. “It’s been a long time, Dr. Fagen.”

  “Indeed.” The man frowned at him, and Ben remembered that as a member of the board of directors, Fagen would have been privy to all the details of Ben’s death and subsequent change in career. “A strange circumstance we find ourselves in. As far as I’m aware, a reversal of the type you claim is unprecedented.”

  “It’s hard to believe,” Ben said. “But it’s true.”

  “We intend to put that statement to the test.” Fagen led the way through multiple security checkpoints until at last they reached the labs. Despite Ben’s past with ARX, the company didn’t seem to be allowing him any leeway. Fine by me. The more rigorous the testing, the better the results—provided he passed.

  “Can you tell us anything about what to expect?” Diya asked as they approached a meeting room.

  “I could.” Fagen opened the door and waved them in. “But I’m sure that Ben already has a very good idea of what is in store.”

  “An interview to establish I am who I claim to be and then a physical examination.” Ben was not surprised to be greeted by a committee. A cross-section of ARX staff occupied the seven seats at the far end of the room, a conference table separating them from the two chairs set out for himself and Diya. As Ben took his seat, he realized he knew everyone on the panel. Fagen’s second in command, who’d been Ben’s supervisor during his internship. The magical expert that ARX commonly consulted and with whom Ben had collaborated on several investigations. His day and night liaison officers, responsible for following up the leads Ben was unable to. The security chief. And—Ben swallowed—Godfrey, his eyes twinkling as he took in Ben’s surprise to see him.

  Fagen took his place at the center of the row of colleagues. “This is an unprecedented case,” he said. “We’ve had cases of dead returning to un-life, but never to my knowledge have we had a vampire return to life. With so many undead creatures who can change their form and tap into another’s mind, we need to be sure that you are who you say you are, Bennet.”

  Ben nodded. “Naturally.” His mouth twisted. “I’ve sat in on one of these before, you know.”

  The panel exchanged glances.

  Fagen frowned. “If you don’t mind, let’s start the interview now.”

  The interview was intense. Ben was asked to describe the events that led to his leaving ARX in minute detail and was questioned about the necromancer’s plans. As he was grilled, he was conscious of multiple waves of magical attention. Checking that my aura matches that on record. Ben pushed the awareness to the back of his mind and continued to answer questions.

  Finally, Fagen held up a hand. “I think that’s enough. Well?” He glanced at the panel.

  “Nothing like this has ever come up before,” said the day officer. “Not in all my years of working for ARX. It’s not possible.”

  “That it hasn’t happened before doesn’t mean it’s not possible,” Godfrey said mildly. “It simply means that there is no precedent for it. And, if my memory of the necromancer attacks is correct, the notebooks recovered from de Silver’s apartment suggested that he had taken his theories on advanced necromancy to new ground.”

  “Those notebooks are held in our highest security vault.” Ben’s former supervisor frowned. “We’ll need express permission from the director himself to confirm their contents.”

  “Mr. Wilding is undergoing a separate appraisal by Department Seven—whose officers were first on the scene when the necromancer was defeated,” Diya said quickly. “You need have no fears about that angle being unexplored.”

  “That may be so,” Fagen said. “But there is the slight matter of confirming Bennet’s identity.” He shot Ben a penetrating stare. “You don’t object?”

  How can I? Ben braced himself for another round of questioning. “Go ahead.”

  This time he was led through his experiences as both a day and night employee of ARX, checking his memory of events against their own. The magic-user was silent, and Ben was conscious of a probing presence at the back of his mind. Checking that I’m not possessed. He realized that he’d trailed to a halt and forced himself to apply himself to the questions.

  It seemed to go on for hours. Ben felt hi
mself sagging in his chair, rapidly approaching exhaustion—and the panel seemed in no danger of running out of questions. And this isn’t even the hard part.

  As if echoing Ben’s thoughts, Fagen turned to his committee. “I suspect that little more can be gained by this line of questioning. I propose we move on to the tests.”

  Ben was glad to leave the interview room. Once in the hallway, he stretched, taking the opportunity to massage some feeling back into his stiff legs.

  Diya held out a soft drink she’d bought from the vending machine in the hall, and Ben took it eagerly. “What form will the tests take?” she asked Fagen.

  “Finger prints, hair sample, retina scan—we need to assure ourselves that Bennet is who he claims to be.” Fagen ushered Ben into a lab. “And then a series of general tests for the presence of anything…untoward. And finally, tests to determine that the vampiric element really is gone. I’m afraid that you’ll have to remain outside. To ensure the veracity of the results, only myself, my assistant, and Ben will enter the lab.”

  Ben nodded at Diya. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Dr. Fagen’s an expert. I could be in no better hands.”

  Fagen simply frowned at the compliment. “In the interest of avoiding any preconceptions, my assistant is a new ARX employee who is unaware of your record,” he said. “She hasn’t been filled in on your history, and I hope that I can trust you to avoid giving any indication of what these tests are looking for.”

  Ben nodded. At Fagen’s directions he stripped down to his T-shirt and shorts and took his place on a bed, much like that of a normal medical examining room. He sipped the soft drink, watching as Fagen pulled on a crisp lab coat and examining gloves. A few moments later, the assistant arrived, a young woman whose mask and cap didn’t succeed in restraining her unruly curls. She raised her hand in what seemed to Ben like a cheery greeting and turned to Fagen for instructions.