by CD Brown
“Serves two purposes: design and build. Mostly they work on calibration of GPS, both the software and the documentation.”
“Sexy.”
“It is if you want to know where you’re going.” Nesbit then gave Sophia a friendly elbow. “Or if you need to know where the sun’s at, am I right?”
“Sure. But the building you were talking about?”
“They have some satellite construction, specifically shielding from raw sunlight.”
“That would be interesting. From our point of view, at least.”
“Follow through here.” Nesbit pushed through a door after typing into a keypad. The room opened two stories tall with small cranes, tables and bright white lights. Various models of satellites, each about four feet tall, sat in the corners. Waiting there were two people in lab coats, all beaming at Sophia’s entrance.
“Mike Lockhorn,” said the man, who had a goatee and neatly combed hair. “This is my partner Evelyn Muldowney.”
Sophia recognized this trim woman with upswept hair. She had been at the church, one of the first to strip naked during the ceremony. “It’s an honor, Madame Sheriff.”
Sophia looked at Jeremiah. “Is that what they’re calling me?” Jeremiah shrugged.
“I don’t mean to offend…”
“No. I’m just joking.” Sophia let her senses wash over Lockhorn. Vamp. “So, this project is personal for both of you also.”
“They have been part of my…I hesitate to call it a cabal.” Nesbit rubbed his chin. “Let’s call it a movement.”
“Balthazar can be quite inspirational.” Evelyn beamed a smile at him.
“I know. I saw.” Sophia thought she had seen a whole bunch but didn’t say that.
Mike pointed his arm to the back of the room. “Please, Madame…”
“Call me Sophia, please.”
“As you wish. Sophia. Let’s show you what you’re here to see.”
They went to a back corner which was blocked by fabric curtains on rollers. Mike disappeared behind them, then wheeled out his creation. Hanging from a hook, it looked like a spacesuit, but made of a heavy olive drab canvas-looking material, one single piece from the neck down including gloves and boots. No seams, no stitching except for a zipper in the back.
“How did you do that?” Jeremiah was really impressed with this construction.
“It’s a molded plastic that’s been mixed with other fabrics.” Evelyn looked quite proud. “We didn’t want any chance of exposure because of tearing along a cut line.”
“I’m impressed. But what about the head?” They’d hooked Sophia. She’d never seen anything close to this.
“The piece de resistance!” Nesbit’s carnival barker side came out in his voice. “Mike, if you please.”
Mike rolled out a steel table with a dark glass bubble on top. Sophia saw bumpy threads at the bottom where it would screw into the neck of the suit. Nesbit pointed and Sophia picked it up. Heavy and thick, the glass was hard to see through.
“What do you call this thing?”
“Working title? The sunsuit.”
“That’s direct. Does it work?”
“Well…” Sophia could see this wasn’t the question they wanted to answer. Mike took the lead.
“We haven’t been able to test it against real sunlight. It does work against UV bulbs.”
“So it should work,” Evelyn added.
“I’ll be the first to try it.” Nesbit’s back got straight when he said this, as if he was still girding for the trip.
Jeremiah looked confused. “What’s stopping you?” Sophia slapped his stomach with the back of her hand. “Ow! What is it?”
“You’ve seen me when the sun comes up. You think I’m ready for a stroll?”
Jeremiah nodded, looking sheepish. But Nesbit gripped his shoulder.
“Son, I know you aren’t one of our kind, so it can be tough to imagine. But I’m here to tell you that we can see the day again.”
“Mr. Nesbit, I hate to burst your bubble, but I haven’t seen any trace of sunlight in over 150 years.”
“Sophia, I wish you’d call me Balthazar.” He paused, looking for the right words. “You haven’t because it’s difficult. I know how you feel. Every inch of your body wants to stop, to freeze, to just be dead for a few hours so it can operate at night. But I have taken the first steps, forcing myself to push past the dawn and be a part of the daytime.”
“How?”
“Fighting. Pushing. It does get easier once your body sees the pathway.” His thin-lipped smile looked cocky on his face. “I can now stay awake until 10 every few mornings. When I make it to noon, I shall test the suit and walk in the sunlight.”
Mike and Evelyn couldn’t hide the pride they felt. The feeling was infectious, even if Sophia thought the whole exercise was pointless.
“Balthazar, I have to ask this. Why? Humanity hasn’t built underwater cities. If an environment doesn’t want us, why should we try to conquer it?”
Mike and Evelyn had expectant looks on their faces, not because they didn’t know Nesbit’s answer, but more to see if Sophia would be converted.
“I have a deep abiding faith that the sun will heal us. Somewhere in that light lies the cure to this malice living within our kind. No offense to you and your wonderful, long life, but I can’t believe we were meant to last forever. We will return to our former selves, even if we have to risk our very existence to get there.”
“I applaud your efforts. I may even take a walk in the sun suit. But I don’t have the same faith as you.”
Nesbit nodded, not in disappointment but as if a child had spoken. “Our way is not an easy path.” But he put on a beckoning smile. “I do ask that you don’t stand in our way.”
“The opposite. I encourage your work. I certainly won’t be disappointed if you turn out to be right.”
“Thank you, Sophia. Can I call that your blessing?”
“If you’re asking for money…”
The three laughed. Nesbit said, “Oh, no. We have a good funding source. This is more a seal of approval.”
“Sure. That and a quarter will get you some coffee, but I support you.”
They all shook hands and Nesbit led them to the front door. As the clock closed in on 4, they all needed to get to their safe spots.
“I hope it works.” Jeremiah had that puppyish look. “Don’t you want to join the world again?”
“Sure. As long as all that time didn’t come flooding back.”
“I’d love you anyway.”
“Yeah, like you love your grandmother.” Sophia whacked him on his butt. “But seriously, we don’t know why we’re this way. But the marshmallow doesn’t jump into the fire to find salvation in becoming liquid again. It does its best to avoid the stick.”
As they got in the car, Jeremiah had that “got you” sneer on his face. “A quarter for coffee? That shit’s four bucks a cup.”
“Now I really feel old.”
Sophia had no choice but to rest after going to Pasadena. Maisie and Horton were good at their jobs, at least that’s what Sandy said, so she felt she could be entombed early for once. The stress on her was purely mental, but sometimes that was enough to spread to the body. She told Jeremiah she needed to be alone, and while he gave her puppy eyes and slack mouth, he complied with her wishes.
The ZLVG was quiet as all meetings were postponed until tomorrow. Sophia took the time to stare at the ceiling, letting all of the information roil like crashing waves on an Eastern seashore.
Walking in the sun? Was it such a crazy idea? For humans, no, but she hadn’t felt anything close to human for a long time. Even all her touchy-feely rehab rap was about reclaiming death. Still, she admitted to herself that seeing the blazing sphere and surviving would add some quality of life to the regular issues inherent in the bloodsucking path. But it was nuts.
“We live by night,” she thought. “That’s the deal.” Besides, Nesbit was a loon. She’d had enough wacko
s invading her headspace for all of her lifetimes. She retreated to her memories, trying to find what David would have thought about Nesbit.
She knew one thing about David: he was scoping her out. For some reason, the mysterious man had taken a shine to her, but what he wanted and what she’d be willing to give might be a big river to cross.
He showed up every week or so for their talks, but lately he looked like he wasn’t listening anymore, like his thoughts and her presence were at odds.
“Why waste your money, boss? You could just as well stay at home for all the good I’m doing.”
He didn’t gaze over at her, instead pulling his brim even lower. “Something’s sticking in my craw. Not about you, but the man in charge of me. I think it may come to a head.”
“Then why stick around? Unless you want the trouble.”
David coughed a small laugh. “Ain’t nobody want the trouble I got. But it ain’t that simple. He’s got a hold on me.”
“It’s a free country, you know. Even the coloreds can walk away from people they don’t like.”
“I don’t have to carry their particular burden, but I still have a load to bear.”
“Can you tote it somewhere else? You’re making a girl get weepy.”
He stood and smiled crookedly. “As you wish. But I got one question. If I call on you, would you want to go? Would you want to leave this world behind?”
Sophia didn’t know how to answer that, but she always had one concern. “Would I be free?”
“Freer than you are now. It wouldn’t be total freedom ‘cause that don’t exist. But you would see a whole other side of this world.”
“Then yes. Take me with you when you go.”
She wandered back to the real world after her nostalgic reverie. After deep meditation and some deeper breathing, Sophia went under. Her eyes closed, then popped open when the moon returned and the stars filled the sky. Well, they appeared somewhere. L.A. was far too bright for stargazing.
Her phone dinged with a text: Maisie and Horton had broken the code. She needed to get to VampAmp.
Jeremiah was finishing up on a movie set, so she hopped an Uber for the west side. It took an hour, but she walked onto the production floor to find the whole gang of workers around a 52-inch monitor. Horton, his longish hair pulled into a bun, jockeyed the keyboard.
“They’ve made us,” he said, fingers typing at vampire speed. “They’re porting their subsite somewhere.”
“Chat room’s gone.” Maisie pointed at the root directory. Even Sophia could see it was shorter than when they’d discovered it.
Steve took to his laptop. “Someone’s launched a DDoS attack on us. They’re trying to distract us.”
“Can you hold them off for another minute?” Horton typed even faster, the crackling of the keys like popcorn at a movie theater.
“Doing my best.”
“No, no, no!” Horton slammed the wireless keyboard on the coffee table.
Maisie visibly slumped. “It’s all gone.”
“Gone where?” Most of these Internet thingies were beyond Sophia.
“Hard drive? The cloud?” Horton rubbed his temple. “All I really know is they took all the info. We saved a clone of it, but I’m sure they won’t use the same IP addresses.”
“But they left us breadcrumbs.” Steve brought his laptop to Horton.
“Yes!” He sat up quickly, his bun bobbing at the sudden movement. “We can follow things backwards. I’ll get to work on it.”
Horton stood and went to the corner to work. Maisie picked up the keyboard and typed, pointing for Sophia to sit down.
“Here’s what we got. What that Myra chick said to you? ‘We own the night’? That’s either their rally call or their cabal.”
“Probably both,” said Steve who had brought a cup of blood for Sophia. “They are heavy into hardcore punk, bands like Millions of Dead Cops and Bad Brains.”
“I don’t know either of them.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Maisie brought up some of the images posted on the subsite. Blood red anarchy symbols dominated. “What does matter is they think they’re going to take over from the living.”
Sophia sipped from her cup. “How? They have too many advantages, like numbers and being able to stay up past sunrise.”
“And Marx thought the state would just wither away.” Steve looked proud of his political analysis. “While they are in the theoretical stage just now, they look to be growing their numbers and centralizing the movement. Someone is in control. We just don’t know who.”
“Cut off the head? Is that what y’all are thinking?” Before they could answer, Sophia’s phone rang. Sandy was on the line. Sophia got up and walked away.
“I know you didn’t ask, but I looked into Hardwired Digital.”
“Who?”
“Nesbit’s people in Pasadena.”
“Am I to celebrate your paranoia?”
“Babe, you already know they’re out to get you.” Sophia heard Sandy take a sip of liquid. Someone else was on their first cup of the day. “Anyway, they are owned by a shell company.”
“Why would a company that makes shells have interest in GPS?”
“You are so damn cute. No, princess, a shell company means it’s a fake name for someone else. I can’t track it down.”
“Who do you think it might be?”
“Don’t know, but I wouldn’t be surprised if their name rhymed with Budgie Squadoosie.”
“Don’t assume anything yet. But if it is Fudgie, we’ll have to let Nesbit know.”
“Why do you think he doesn’t?”
Sophia let that hang for a second. Could Nesbit be luring her in? “It’s possible. But he’s a zealot.”
“Technically, so are you.”
“You know how to hurt a girl.” Sophia turned when she heard Steve call out. “Keep looking. Gotta go.”
Steve was in his cube, but the rest packed around his shoulders. Sophia hung on the outside while they continued to work.
“I found their new set up. Don’t know how long it’s going to last, but I managed to create an account.”
“What does that mean?” Sophia pulled forward as the crowd around Steve parted.
“It means I got an invite to a secret show in Hollywood. I’m going undercover.”
Sophia didn’t like it, but she didn’t know any other way to infiltrate this scene. “Fine, but you’ll have backup, you hear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Steve saluted, but Sophia knew his enthusiasm might be too much for the mission.
Chapter Sixteen
“How do I look?”
Gone were Steve’s long sleeved Van Heusen shirts and staid khaki pants. Tamar had taken control of his redesign, cutting his hair into an asymmetrical cut while also adding extensions to the front so the locks would fall into his face. Horton had sacrificed his Minor Threat shirt which became a razored mess in Tamar’s hands. The jeans were standard Levi’s scored from a Target, but companies were pre-distressing them these days, so his knees and thighs were exposed.
“He looks punk to me.” Sophia thought the look consistent with the album covers they showed her, but Tamar shook her head.
“Something’s off.”
“He looks like he’s wearing a Halloween costume.” Sandy couldn’t keep the shrillness from her voice.
“Is that because we know him?” Sophia approached Steve, feeling the t-shirt’s fabric. “We don’t see him this way, so it doesn’t quite fit?”
“Maybe.” Tamar also gliding closer, then stood to her full height. “He’s too clean.”
“Lots of punks in Los Angeles are clean.” Steve must have felt the need to talk for himself. “In every scene you have to expect a fair amount of posers.”
The women all nodded in agreement as Maisie brought in a denim vest covered with patches.
“Let’s test this out,” she said while turning on the large monitor. The camera hidden in the front shoulder gave a clear view of e
verything in front of Steve.
“I’d rather this be a blood connection. We won’t see them with a camera.” Sophia still didn’t trust technology, even as these gadgets got smaller and better.
“We all need to see the layout. We’ll know from voice how many are there.” Tamar said this with her leader voice. Sophia knew this wasn’t a challenge, but an alert for her to be open. “Plus we’ll be able to use our phones and strike from different angles.”
“If something goes wrong.” Sophia had repeated how this was a spy mission.
“When has anything gone right?” Sandy received Sophia’s glare with a shrug. Now Sophia felt challenged.
“Look, we can’t move too fast here. If we go in all feral-like, then we create a battle where one doesn’t have to be. We have a clue how big they are, but no real facts. Jumping the gun could get many of us destroyed and give them the advantage to end the war. We don’t act until we need to. Comprendez?” She’d said it with a French accent, but everyone got the vibe. The room was no less tense, but Sophia had solid control over the mission. “Good. Now suit up. One wrong move by these punk bastards and we storm the place.”
That got her people riled up, but Sophia felt her grip on the situation slip further away.
On the drive to Hollywood, Sophia called Jeremiah. He had been working steadily, so they had been missing each other over the past few weeks. The full moon was getting close, so she needed to reach out. He picked up on the second ring.
“You sure you don’t need me?” He sounded skeptical after she told him what was happening.
“No, but this one will be worse than last time. We barely have a plan.” Sophia softened her voice. “Truth be told, I don’t want a fight tonight.”
“I hope it goes that way. Holler if you need me.”
“Jeremiah?” She hadn’t heard that tone in her voice for decades, even with Chip.
“Yeah?”
“Go to my place. I might need you there later.”
“Sure thing.”
As she hung up, she felt a hand squeeze her thigh. She turned to see Tamar, her usual steel facade softened to clay.
“You really like that weasel?”