In the Blood

by French, Jackie

  She looked at us calmly. ‘The world has settled back into some sort of order over the last five decades or so. But when I made the fancies, well, let’s just say it was during the pandemics of the Decline, and in the troubled decades that followed them too.

  ‘No one quite knew what would survive in those days, or who, or if there would be anyone at all. It didn’t seem wrong then to create something so far from the norm that might—just might—be so far removed from human that it could conceivably survive when we didn’t.’

  ‘So you don’t do that sort of thing now?’

  She searched behind her chair. ‘I left my knitting somewhere here…yes, here it is. I find it a lovely relaxation for the mind, just letting the fingers click away. Well, yes. I still do that “sort of thing”, as you termed it. There is beauty in diversity, as we used to say when I was young, and the only real test of a modification is whether its owner survives, not some City Proclamation by bureaucrats scared of anything that might surpass themselves.

  ‘But, no, I don’t create vampires or werewolves any more. Nothing that will be so obvious that people might turn against it, and nothing so obvious that might draw attention to me or my family either.

  ‘But vampires?’ Her fingers clicked and clicked as she changed needles. ‘What is a vampire after all? Someone who feeds on blood. Is that really so much more terrible than someone who feeds on meat? After all, you can harvest blood from a creature—human or animal—without killing it, which is more than you can say for meat eaters.’

  ‘But…’ I began.

  ‘Oh, really child, you’re not thinking of all that Prince of Darkness stuff? I can’t make an immortal vampire, though I hope all my boys live a damn sight longer than the human norm. I can’t make one that flies, nor a flying fairy either, for that matter, except with auxiliary lift—which is quite another story entirely and, before you ask, that was in another century and, besides, the wench is dead.

  ‘But a blood…shall we say drinker, rather than bloodsucker? The ability to survive on blood instead of flesh could be quite a survival characteristic, in the right times. Which is not to say that a vampire mightn’t turn murderer, like anyone else.’

  ‘Which it seems he or she has,’ I said.

  She shook her head. ‘I said I had created a vampire, not that I knew your murderer. The vampire I created died in the last pandemic.’

  ‘His children then?’

  ‘Her children,’ she corrected. ‘And there were none.’

  ‘How can you be sure?’

  She sighed. ‘I created her, remember? I couldn’t delete the genetic susceptibility to the virus that killed her. It was dominant, like my modifications—all my modifications are dominant, not like the modern namby pamby recessivism. Why create something if you don’t want it to survive?’

  ‘Well then,’ I asked. ‘Could any of your other modifications have…’ I tried to find words that didn’t seem melodramatic.

  ‘Have accidentally created an insatiable thirst for blood, like the Tuin Case? You know I was never sure about that case. I’d have liked to study it. It seemed to be more likely it was just an individual psychosis plus an hysterical reaction. If you watch a child long enough expecting them to start tearing at people’s jugulars, then there is a fair chance they will do it.

  ‘So the short answer is no. The longer answer is yes, I have created a good number of unapproved modifications, all of which may have developed side effects, although I’d expect I’d have heard if they had. But if you’d like to check on them all, and their descendants,’ she waved her hand at the shelves, ‘then be my guest.’

  I looked at Neil. He shrugged. ‘You know that’s not feasible,’ I said.

  ‘No, of course it isn’t,’ she agreed.

  ‘Can’t you help us in any way at all then?’

  She looked at me seriously. ‘Yes I can. In my professional opinion—and it is unlikely you’ll get a more experienced one—you are looking for a psychotic with a vampire fixation, not a modification run wild.’

  ‘There’s no one else who might have created a vampire, either on purpose or accidentally?’ I asked desperately.

  She hesitated. ‘Not now. Eighty or a hundred years ago, perhaps. There were quite a few of us in the Outlands back then. But the pandemics were as ruthless to doctors as any other profession, and nowadays the City controls are simply too tight for anyone to learn to do what I do.’

  ‘There are Outland clinics though,’ said Neil.

  ‘Two of them,’ she said crisply, shoving her knitting back next to her chair. ‘Both run with unofficial City approval. I’m quite well aware of what happens in them.’

  I looked at her knitting. ‘The girl who gave us your coordinates…’

  ‘Her name is Virginia. She’s my daughter-in-law.’ She calculated. ‘Or should I say, she’s my great-great-granddaughter-in-law. I like to keep my finger on the pulse of things.’ She stood up. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t help more. Please believe me. I would have done more if I could. But I believe you are looking for a plain, everyday murderer, if there is such a thing. Stop wasting your time looking for modifications. Try to trace the child’s movements instead, if you feel you really must solve this thing.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘You really have been helpful, even if it wasn’t in the way we hoped for.’

  Her gaze softened. She turned from me and looked at Neil. ‘Young man, you have long journey ahead of you. Why don’t you pop off to the bathroom and relieve yourself to prepare for it?’

  ‘In other words, leave you two alone.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  Neil nodded and stood up. ‘If you need me, just shriek.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘Second on the left down the hall,’ said Dr Meredith kindly. ‘There’s no need to hurry.’ She waited till the door had shut behind him. ‘One final thing. My daughter-in-law sent you here because she assumed you wanted the copper plate removed so you could Link again.’

  I nodded.

  ‘You haven’t asked me if I could do it.’

  I looked at her in surprise. ‘Could you?’

  ‘If it’s a simple copper plate—of course. I suspect though that there have been other alterations you weren’t informed of. A plate could be removed by any competent MediTech with a bit of surgical training. But you appear to have no major mental damage, which means that the electric impulses needed for Linkage must still be there—so yes, I imagine I could restore your ability. Whether it would be advisable or not I don’t know.’

  ‘You mean the City monitors would pick up my sig the first time I Linked in to the main Net?’

  ‘Exactly. But if you refrained from that, if you kept to Outland Links…I don’t suppose they would trace you. But Nets and Linkages are your area, not mine. I’m afraid I really haven’t kept up with that sort of thing.’

  I chewed my bottom lip. ‘It might be possible…it might be possible to disguise my Link persona too. I’d have to think about it. I’d have to think about it for many reasons.’

  ‘Take your time,’ she said. ‘In fact, as your potential doctor I advise you to think it out very carefully. I’ll still be here when you decide.’ She grinned. ‘And if I’m not, my boys will be.’

  ‘You’ve trained them too?’

  ‘A few, over the years. Mostly in standard work…and, no, I am quite sure none of them have been creating vampires either.’ She stood up. ‘Now we had better rescue your young man before one of the boys discovers him listening at the door.’

  We found Neil in the corridor. I assumed from his blush that he had been listening at the door. There had been nothing he would have heard that I minded him hearing, but at least his absence meant I was free to discuss it with him or not, as I chose.

  ‘I asked young Benedict to wrap up some lunch for you,’ said Dr Meredith as we passed through the kitchen. ‘Ah, there you are, Benedict. Benedict does the baking and the cooking when I can’t be bothered. He has a much bette
r hand at bread than I do, but then, he is better at sticking to the recipe. I’m afraid I never can.’

  Benedict grinned at me—a familiar grin, passed down, I wondered, over how many generations—and handed me a series of parcels. ‘Cold venison and tomato chilli satay,’ he said. ‘A loaf of parsnip and caraway bread.’

  ‘And very good it is too,’ said Dr Meredith.

  ‘Date and macadamia loaf, and Steve fixed the coffee dispenser in your floater.’

  I wondered exactly what they had been doing with the floater when they discovered the dispenser was broken. A standard security check? It seemed best not to ask.

  Dr Meredith saw us to the door. ‘I’d say pop in next time you’re passing,’ she said. ‘But of course no one ever does pass this way. One of the reasons I chose it. But still,’ the charcoal eyes met mine, ‘you are always welcome to call in.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, and meant it.

  ‘One more thing.’ She frowned. ‘It came to me just now in the kitchen…perhaps I am getting old you know, because it had quite slipped my mind.’

  ‘Yes?’ said Neil.

  ‘Vampires. I said I had only created one vampire. But there was another request—he was a City trader with a lot of money and enough sense to get out before the pandemics really hit. He came to me with several requests, none of which I felt like taking on. Let’s just say he had a taste for the exotic. I very rarely feel total antipathy to anyone. But I did to him.’

  ‘So you refused him,’ said Neil.

  ‘I refused him. Others might not have. This was all nearly a century ago, you see…’

  ‘But you have his coordinates in your records?’

  She shook her head. ‘I never took him as a client and, anyway, in those days we rarely used coordinates. But his place was up north, a little inland from the coast, and it was quite unmistakable. I’m sure there are still records of it.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Neil. ‘It was a long time ago.’

  ‘Because it was built like a medieval castle,’ said Dr Meredith dryly. ‘I am quite sure you can find some mention of it.’

  ‘And he wanted to fill it with Draculas?’ I asked.

  ‘And Igors and, for all I know, Frankenstein’s monsters too. But docile ones. That was one of the parameters he gave me. They should do what he told them to. Even Frankenstein, if I remember, didn’t ask that of his monster. Anyway, it might just possibly be worth looking into. But as I said, I suspect the answer to your problem doesn’t lie with engineering.’

  She stood on tiptoe and kissed my cheek. She smelt of flour and smoked turkey and essence of roses. ‘Take care Danielle Forest. I hope I see you again.’ She pulled Neil’s shoulder down so she could reach his cheek too. ‘Take care of her,’ she instructed him.

  ‘That’s why I came,’ said Neil.

  I heard the door close behind her as we walked back down the path to our floater. ‘I thought you came to find out who murdered Doris,’ I said.

  ‘That too,’ said Neil equably.

  ‘I don’t need protection, you know,’ I said.

  ‘I know,’ agreed Neil.

  ‘But you said back there…’

  ‘I said I’d come to look after you. I didn’t say you needed it. I take it you want me to do a search for this castle?’

  It was an obvious change of subject, but on reflection a welcome one.

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  Chapter 33

  It isn’t difficult to find a castle.

  I asked Neil to look up the tourist brochures from just before the Decline. He found a mention of the castle almost straightaway, which gave us a vague location, if not the coordinates.

  Theoretically, it should be easy to find any place in a floater—just keep hovering until you find it. In reality, your way is blocked by trees or rocks and you soon lose all sense of direction. I have a feeling that locating places was easier back in the old days when every dwelling had to connect with a road.

  Theoretically too, you should be able to stop and ask directions. But since the Decline you can travel for days without coming across a community, especially if you don’t have its coordinates.

  It was good country up here—if you happened to be a cow, at any rate. The grass was tough and green and spiky, and evidently too thick for tree seedlings to invade, except on rocky ridges where the soil was too thin for grass to thrive.

  We’d been travelling for about two hours when we saw the first sign of people: a herd of brown and blue UV-stabilised cattle confined in a paddock with split-log rail fences. And a little way along, a huddle of buildings made of split logs, so weathered that the plasticrete dome to one side looked all the more startling in its cream and whiteness.

  ‘Cheese factory,’ said Neil

  ‘How can you tell?’

  ‘What else would they do with all the milk? Those are dairy cows. High protein grass too.’

  The dome door opened. A large woman in a faded unidress watched us, as though unsure whether to wave.

  ‘Should we stop?’

  I shrugged. ‘May as well see if she knows the place.’

  The air felt thick and hot and sweating green as soon as I opened the door, like in an Amazon Virtual I’d taken years before as part of my research for the new City beach project, three floors of surf and sand and underwater caves. (I’d finally chosen a warm temperate climate and palm trees instead.) The tough grass seemed to grip the soil like a corset.

  ‘Hello,’ called Neil.

  The woman approached, smiling tentatively. She looked even larger close up, with a long drooping jaw and too wide mouth. I wondered suddenly if she might not have Horse genes somewhere in her ancestry. ‘You’re wanting cheese?’ she asked.

  ‘No, just directions. We’re looking for the castle.’

  Immediately the horse-jawed face went blank. ‘Go back to the river,’ she said. ‘And follow it up. You’ll see the castle on the ridge about twenty kloms up.’

  ‘You wouldn’t happen to know the coordinates?’ I asked. If we had the coordinates we could look it up, and perhaps get some data on the inhabitants.

  The woman shook her head. ‘No.’ She turned and trudged back into the cheese factory, if that’s what it was. I heard her shouting, ‘Harry! Harry!’, before the door shut behind her.

  ‘Friendly type,’ I said.

  Neil stared at the shut door. ‘She was friendly enough till you mentioned the castle. Well, at least we know how to find it, if you still want to.’

  ‘Yes, I think I do,’ I said slowly.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  I looked at him in surprise. ‘Yes, of course. We’ve come this far. Why, don’t you want to?’

  Neil climbed slowly back into the floater, then held the door for me as I climbed in too. ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I just don’t see much point. Meredith was right. Anyone could have killed Doris.’

  ‘Meredith didn’t see her injuries. But look, if you want to go home to your apple trees, that’s fine by me. I’ll drop you off and come back again.’

  Neil shrugged and set the floater moving again, back the way that we’d come. ‘No. I’ll come with you.’

  ‘There’s really no need.’

  ‘I said I’d come with you,’ said Neil, even more shortly.

  ‘Neil, what’s the matter?’

  ‘Nothing’s the matter. Shush. I’m trying to run this thing on manual.’

  ‘Yes, there is.’

  ‘Really? All right then, I’m sick of that look on your face.’

  ‘What look?’

  ‘The one that says you’re thinking of Michael. That you’re back in your bloody Forest and I can’t get near.’

  ‘I wasn’t thinking of Michael,’ I said blankly. ‘I was wondering whether that woman had Horse genes, if you want to know the truth. Why on earth would I think of Michael?’

  ‘I thought that, maybe last night you felt that…’ Neil looked hurt, angry and embarrassed all at the
same time.

  ‘That I felt what? For heaven’s sake Neil, I can’t read your mind.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Neil, steering carefully around a mob of cows.

  ‘Shit, shit, shit. Neil, for God’s sake stop this thing.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I can’t talk to you when you’re steering around cows.’

  The river glinted suddenly in front of us. The floater settled onto a flat piece of grass and cow dung. Neil turned to face me. ‘Well?’ he asked.

  ‘Shit,’ I said again. I sought desperately for the words I wanted to say. But what did I want to say?

  ‘Kiss me, you fool,’ I said.

  ‘What?’ said Neil.

  ‘Theda Bara, ancient actress, famous movie line. Neil, I don’t know what to say to you. I don’t even know what I feel, much less what to say. But I wasn’t thinking of Michael back then. I didn’t want Michael in my bed last night, or any of the other Forest for that matter. I don’t want them in my bed tonight either. But I do want you to kiss me. All right?’

  ‘All right,’ said Neil.

  We found the castle about two hours later.

  I had expected a bad copy of a medieval castle, Normal English perhaps, or even one similar to the fortified structures on the Rhine. This was a castle in spirit as well as function, but without the constraints of medieval architecture. The massive and smoothly inward-sloping StrongBond walls were windowless and simple to defend. The only true castle features were the moat and drawbridge, and what looked like bats flying around the central peak.

  ‘Except they can’t be,’ said Neil.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Bats don’t fly in daylight. Besides, why would they bother?’

  ‘Don’t ask me,’ I said, stretching luxuriously as I got out of the floater. The last two hours had almost convinced me to give up the search for the increasingly improbable vampire and to head back to Faith Hope and Charity. Only the uncertainty about what I wanted to happen when we got back there stopped me from suggesting it.

  ‘I don’t like it,’ said Neil.