Mr East seemed different though. Whilst he'd not fully embraced humanity like Mr West, he was acting a little too human for Magellan's liking. Magellan had noticed he'd adopted little things, like the tea he now drank. In Magellan’s mind that made East weak. Their overall mission depended on people like him to ensure distractions didn’t divert them. It clearly had West, though he was sure beyond any doubt that the man’s heresy would only improve his own fate.
He sat down next to East on the sofa, crossed a leg over another, decided he didn't like it and went back to sitting with his legs slightly apart.
"I trust you are enjoying the tea?" he asked.
Mr East nodded. "I have to say that I have acquired a taste for it now. Makes me a little more comfortable in my body."
"And you're finding that all right?"
"It's uncomfortable and restricting, however I have spoken to others who say they find the same. But there is nothing that can be done. It's not like the humans can grow several extra sets of arms."
This was the right attitude to have, Mr Magellan thought. No complaints, no whinging, just a realisation that they had a job to do and needed to get on with it.
"And your future?"
"I'm due for a promotion in four point seven years. I'll be moving out of analysis and into a more supervisory role."
"Excellent, you must be very pleased."
Mr East shrugged. "My fate is whatever the Planners decide."
"A very practical approach. Very sensible." Magellan was surprised by the level-headedness of one so young.
"Well, I knew when I volunteered for this dangerous mission that my fate could get all out of line. Coming into such a chaotic system presents many challenges we could not foresee, and I'm sure the Planners will have to make alterations to my fate to make allowances for this."
Ah, thought Magellan, now we come to the point.
"It is truly a different way of living than we are used to. Some are adapting it better than others."
"Some are adapting a little too well," Mr East shot back chirpily.
Excellent. He had no reason to doubt the work his profilers had done - that was one area for which they'd not had to rewrite their science since coming to this world.
"I take it you do not approve of Mr West's methods then?"
"If I'm honest sir, no, I do not. It is one thing to crave results, to adapt in a chaotic world, but what he does well, it's..."
He stopped. Magellan could see by the way his cup clattered on its saucer that he was shaking.
"Go on, you'll find no criticism of your views from me."
"It's heresy, sir. No two ways about it. And we're willing to give up all we hold true just to win this war? That seems like a very dishonest war to me."
"Mr West would argue that we do not have time."
"I'll give him that our analysis is nowhere near good enough. But we're making progress with the data models every day. The teams, they've hardly slept, sir."
"No-one can fault the data modellers on their dedication and persistence," Magellan agreed.
"But the problem is, you do what West is doing, you're making waves. Big huge waves. As it is, the data modellers are trying to do something akin to trying to find a stick in an ocean. West, he's turned that ocean into a storm."
"I know. When I let him commit heresy I never realised how far he would go."
"He needs to be stopped. Don't get me wrong, he's doing it out of loyalty to our cause. There are few who are quite as patriotic as Mr West, but still... what he is doing is madness."
Magellan sighed. "Stopping him might not be so easy."
"With all due respect, sir, you are his commanding officer. Take him to task, reel him back."
Normally Magellan would not take well to such criticisms, especially from someone who reported to him, but he understood East's anger. West was indeed creating waves. Waves so large they were impacting on other operational areas. He couldn’t have his team questioning his actions. West would get what was coming to him, but he had to make sure he didn’t lose respect in the meantime.
"What I really need, Mr East, is evidence. Something concrete I can pin him down on. I do not have the time to go around chasing after him."
Magellan didn't want to smile as he planted the seed of an idea in East's head, but he had to fight his body's urge to do so.
"I could do it for you sir. My own project is halted because of the storm West has kicked up. I'd happily follow him around and collect evidence, if that meant things calmed down. Heck, short of heresy I'd even help him if it meant I could get on with my own projects."
Now Magellan did smile.
"He can't know you're following him. Just stay a good number of hours behind. It shouldn't matter, the evidence will still be there."
"What should I look for?"
"Anything that shows he's been excessive in trying to hunt down this notebook."
"And if I find the notebook itself?"
"Well don't let looking for it deter you from your primary mission. But if you do find it, West would have no reason to continue to cause ripples."
Both men smiled to each other. Magellan had his man.
"I'm sure I could put a recommendation that your promotion be scheduled earlier if you were to find such evidence. Or maybe promoted to a better fate."
This Mr East seemed to appreciate. "Thank you sir," he said.
"Help me close West down first. If I am to take him before the Dictatoriat, I have to have evidence that he exceeded whatever mandate I gave him."
That way, thought Magellan, when the axe falls, and the Dictatoriat start downgrading people's fates, they won't downgrade mine.
"I understand," said Mr East, and Magellan was sure he did.
CHAPTER ELEVEN - Honest Tom
Darwin became aware of a sound behind him as he crouched on the lobby floor. He span round to see Cassidy standing there staring at him.
"Have you been crying?" she asked, then looking around. "What happened?"
Darwin wiped his snotty nose on the back of his hand before rubbing dry his eyes.
"They're... gone."
"Gone?" asked Cassidy, her usual playful self replaced with something older and wiser, more concerned. "What do you mean gone?"
Darwin grabbed a pile of ash and let it slip through his fingers.
Cassidy gave a small gasp as she realised. "Oh my," she started to say. "What did this?"
"I dunno," Darwin replied. "What can turn a vampire into ash?"
"I'd say only magic, but we're in the Realm of Men..."
"There's a portal on the next floor," Darwin interrupted. "They use the mana it leaks to shield this place, stop anyone they don't want coming in. Could that..."
Cassidy shook her head. "No," she said. "No way. It's one thing to repel someone but to do... this."
Darwin stared blankly at the ash, lost in his thoughts.
"Are there any survivors?" Cassidy asked.
Darwin ignored her.
She clicked her fingers in front of Darwin's face. "Hey, Darwin. Snap out of it. Are there any survivors?"
"I dunno," he said meekly, looking up at her.
She held out a hand.
"Come on, then. Let's go and find out."
By his very nature, Darwin was not shocked by death. It was a natural part of life, whether caused by old age or by a vampire feeding. But this, this was something else. Death was something he caused, not something he'd ever really experienced.
He was aware, as they walked down the dust filled corridors that he was walking through someone's life. He felt he was trespassing, being disrespectful, contaminating a potential crime scene. Before long he could feel the dust being kicked up by his feet, entering his lungs, and that made him want to vomit. At least Cassidy was acting respectfully and not jumping around it or trying to draw patterns on the floor. Instead the girl had disappeared and the older being was there, holding his hand reassuringly, letting him know he wasn't alone in this
moment of grief.
Except he was alone. One of the biggest hubs for vampires in Europe, and as far as he could tell, everyone was dead. Individually, he didn't really have much love for the vampires, but these were his people and this was genocide. He kept asking himself, who could have done such a thing, and more importantly: why?
As if responding to his worries, Cassidy looked up at him and told him: "It's not the end you know. Your people will return."
Far from being a consolation, Darwin found it angered him. As much as he liked Cassidy, why should she care? She'd done everything in her power to curb his vampiric side. If she could turn him totally human, he believed she'd try.
He took a deep breath and sighed. It was no use getting angry with Cassidy, she meant well, and he was glad she was here for support.
#
They stopped outside Metzger's office, Darwin patting his hair, trying to get the grey molecules of death out of it. The door stood slight ajar, and Darwin shivered as painful memories of that room flashed before his mind. That was then, he told himself, this is now.
He gingerly pushed at the door. The room beyond slowly came into view as details emerged from the dark. It had always been a fairly sparse room, a room for presence rather than for working. Maple wood panels lined the room, carved with various depictions from history and dioramas. Paintings and trophies were dotted along the walls.
A large oak bookcase stood in one corner, with books so neatly filed Darwin knew they couldn't ever have been read. In the centre, sat upon a rug matched only by the panels in its level of detail, was Metzger's large oak desk. On one side two large leather chairs for guests and on the other side...
Cassidy gasped.
Metzger sat in his high back leather chair, or at least what was left of him. His body seemed drained, his skin aged and wrinkled, his eyeballs missing, and his head turned upwards, mouth open, as if he'd been screaming when he died.
Darwin just stood there for a second, trying to take the sight in, before running over, tears in his eyes. He hated Metzger, there wasn't a single person he wanted dead more. Yet seeing him now, twisted and tortured, a symbol of strength to his people, Darwin was filled with sorrow.
He reached forward to touch the skin, as if to convince his fingers of what his eyes was seeing, but as he did so, the head began to crumble to ash, spilling down onto his chest until the head was no more.
Darwin jumped back in horror.
"What could do this?" he asked. He fell to a crouch, put his hands over his head, as if trying to block out the horror he was seeing. Despite the condition, the face had been undeniably Metzger's. But that in itself asked so many questions. Metzger was never one to hide, so how come whoever had done this, managed to get him in his office. Where were the Vampirwaffen? Wouldn't they have tried to escape with him once they'd known the battle was lost? More than anything, the one question that constantly echoed in his mind was "Who?" Who would do this to the vampires? Who could?
Cassidy walked over to join him. She looked at Metzger's body and picking at the ash, lifted his chain of office from it. "Sparkly," she said examining the blood red amulet set in gold and went to put it over her own head.
Darwin jumped up, rage filling him, he grabbed her wrist.
"Don't!" he shouted, snatching the chain from her. "This isn't just some cheap jewellery. It's our heritage."
"I'm sorry," Cassidy started, visibly shocked by Darwin's anger.
"Did your people do this? Have you been plotting some war against us?"
"No," protested Cassidy, and once again she was the girl again, the age and wisdom replaced in her eyes with fear and doubt. "My people couldn't do something like this."
Darwin grunted and placed the chain over his own neck, tucking it down underneath his T-Shirt, keeping it safe away from view.
"We wouldn't do something like this," Cassidy continued to protest. "We've a peace treaty."
Darwin wanted to say something, suggest that her people had never really respected the treaty, had seemed to have forgotten who won that ancient war between Heaven and Hell all those millennia ago, but he found his anger ebbing away.
"I'm sorry," he said, letting go of her. "It's just...”
"It's OK," said Cassidy, rubbing her wrist. "I didn't mean to cause offense. You know that, right?"
Darwin nodded.
"Maybe we should..."
There was a sound outside; Cassidy heard it too, glancing back at Darwin with wide open eyes. He needed a weapon. He looked around for something blunt and heavy, found himself cursing Metzger's tidiness. He looked upwards to the wall above Metzger's head. There, mounted on the wall was the huge ornamental sword that had been in this office for as long as Darwin could remember. It was a huge thing, as long as Darwin was tall. He reached up and lifted it down with both hands, such was the weight, before withdrawing it from the scabbard. The sword was wide, and slightly curved toward the end, but the very tip had long broken off, leaving only a jagged edge across the width of the blade. Even so, standing it on end, the hilt was level with Darwin's face, the four stones set into it - the same blood red jewel as in the amulet - glistening. He'd not be able to do any proper fighting with it, but it was heavy enough to be used as a blunt instrument.
#
A silhouette filled the door and a torch shone in at the pair of them. Darwin tried to shield his eyes, whilst trying to ready the sword.
"Who's that?" the voice called out, resonating around the room, the deep aristocratic British accent such that it could hide either compassion or malice. "Darwin? Is that you?"
The voice was familiar but it took Darwin a few seconds to work out who it was.
"Honest Tom?" he said, dropping the sword to the ground.
The torch light went out and Darwin and the shadow ran toward each other. It was strange, thought Darwin as the two men embraced like long lost cousins, that they should be so friendly toward each other when they never had been before.
Honest Tom had been sired several hundred years ago in the American Deep South. He always said he had been sired as a folly, some of the less progressive traditionalists refusing to fully accept him into their midst. He'd fared little better under Metzger‘s Aryan views but that didn't stop Metzger making him his personal assistant though. Honest Tom might be many things, but he was efficient and very perceptive.
In many ways, Honest Tom and Darwin's similar treatment at the hands of both the traditionalists and Die Neuen should have made them kindred spirits but Tom had always seemed to resent Darwin. Darwin always reckoned it was because Honest Tom had long resigned himself to the role of the downtrodden, and Darwin’s mixed heritage, and the hatred it attracted, threatened that. Whether it was or not, Honest Tom had always been particularly vicious toward him.
"What happened? Is anyone else alive?" Darwin asked excitedly, all past indiscretions forgotten.
"Oh master Darwin," Honest Tom said, "it's terrible."
He looked weak, and Cassidy and Darwin helped him to one of the free chairs and sat him down. A set of teeth whiter than snow briefly flashed their thanks to Cassidy.
"I've never seen his kind before. The tentacles..."
Honest Tom shuddered, as Darwin looked at Cassidy knowingly.
"Did anyone make it out," Darwin asked, but Honest Tom was still locked in terror. "Hey Tom," Darwin said. "Did anyone else make it?"
Honest Tom looked up at the boy, his eyes wide. "No," he said. "Only me. I hid in a cupboard and watched it happen. Watched it kill everyone. Couldn't move, couldn't do anything but watch them all get turned to dust. Dust. Dust."
"He's in shock," said Cassidy.
Darwin went to make a move back to Metzger's desk but Honest Tom grabbed his sleeve. "Not just here either. Prague, Vermont, Istanbul, Kabul, Osaka and Perth... all gone."
"Are you sure?" asked Darwin unsure if these were just some rambling fantasies.
Honest Tom pointed to the headless corpse of Metzger. "The one who did that. I he
ard him say. He made Metzger tell him."
Darwin stood up and paced the room, running fingers through his hair. This was even worse than he thought. Those places were all the regional headquarters for the vampires worldwide. If they'd all been attacked like here, then the vast majority of vampires had been annihilated. And tentacles? Like those ones they saw last night? What exactly was going on here?
"What about the safe houses?" he asked, trying to calm himself down and think logically. "Those who don't reside here, live out on the streets, like me."
Suddenly Honest Tom, a figure who'd struck fear into Darwin as a boy, seemed as small and frail as a mouse. "I don't know," he said weakly. "I don't know anything."
"It's alright Tom, we’ll get you out of here."
Darwin looked at Cassidy
"He mentioned tentacles," she said quietly out of the corner of her mouth. "You don't think..."
"I dunno," Darwin replied.
Cassidy shrugged. "Hey don't expect me to have any answers. You're the brains of the outfit."
Darwin afforded her a quick smile before returning to the thoughts of what to do next. He was now more determined than ever to find out what the notebook said, but if there was some force out there wiping out vampires...
"Tom," he said thinking aloud. "This thing, the one that attacked you... could it have come through the gateway?"
Tom shook his head. "It wasn’t like any demon I've ever seen. This was a creature of flesh and blood, it could never survive in hell."
"But if this was a real..." Cassidy made claws with her hands and made a growling sound, "...creature, where did it come from?"
Darwin shook his head. His whole world had been turned upside down. He looked around him, trying to come up with some plan, and there it was, staring him in the face. A painting on the wall.
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