Department 19: The Rising

by Will Hill

  Jamie felt a deep pang of shame stab at his heart; what Larissa was describing was the exact realisation that it had taken him months to come to.

  “It does,” he said, softly. “I see it now.”

  “It’s all right,” said Larissa. “Really it is. We’re just glad you realised it eventually.” Then she smiled at him, really smiled at him, for what felt like the first time in ages, and Jamie realised he had been a fool. There was no prestige, no pride to be gained from keeping things from his friends, from hoarding exclusivity as though it was something real, something that mattered.

  No more secrets, he thought. No more lies.

  Jamie leant forward and smiled at the two girls.

  “Can you keep a secret?” he asked.

  “That depends,” said Kate, curiosity rising instantly on her face, “on how big it is.”

  “It’s pretty big,” said Jamie, and started to talk.

  87 DAYS TILL ZERO HOUR

  29

  IN CONVERSATION WITH A MONSTER

  The following morning, Jamie Carpenter leapt out of bed more easily than he had in months.

  His mind was usually heavy when he awoke, weighed down by tiredness and worry; this morning, it was as light as a feather. The conversation with Larissa and Kate had done him enormous good, as had unburdening his last remaining secret to them, a secret he had told nobody else and only one other person in the entire Loop had known about. It was as though someone had crawled in through his ear in the night and scrubbed his brain clean. Even the meeting he had agreed to have with Valentin Rusmanov, which was due to begin in less than half an hour, could not dampen his spirits.

  Jamie towelled himself dry, smiling as he remembered the looks on the girls’ faces as he told them his secret, pulled on his black uniform and set out for the lift. He walked quickly, partly because his good mood was filling him with energy, and partly because he didn’t want to keep Admiral Seward waiting.

  The Director’s faith in him, the almost paternal attitude he had begun to adopt, was something that Jamie had come to greatly appreciate and, in the absence of his own father, begun to rely on.

  Admiral Seward was not affectionate towards him, not even close, but he treated him with the same respect he treated anyone else, without making his age a factor, either positively or negatively. For Jamie, who had spent two years angry at a father he had believed had betrayed not only his family but also his country, and who had been without a constant male role model even after his father’s memory had been rehabilitated, it was exactly what he needed; someone who believed that he could be trusted, who could look after himself, and others.

  He reached the lift at the end of the long corridor and pressed the CALL button. He was thinking about the kiss Larissa had given him as the two girls left his quarters the previous night, the first time they had ever kissed in front of Kate, who had giggled of course, but then averted her eyes with a wide smile on her face. The kiss had been filled with the same fire as their very first, fire that seemed to burn everything else away, everything but the two of them, that roared and spun and made him feel like they were the only two people in the world. This kiss had not been quite the same, as first kisses are unique, and impossible to recreate.

  It was close, though, thought Jamie. Pretty damn close.

  The lift doors slid open and Jamie stepped into the car, nodding to an Operator he knew slightly, one of the many almost-familiar faces that populated the Loop. It was not a place in which it was easy to get to know people; Operators spent the vast majority of their time with their squad mates, on missions in far-flung corners of the country, and beyond. When they were actually off duty, most fled for the warmth of their beds.

  Some frequented the officers’ mess for drinks, or a cigar, or a game of cards, but it was largely the older generation of Blacklight that inhabited the dark, wood-panelled room. They had been Operators before the title existed, before the explosion of vampire numbers in the 1980s and 1990s brought with it triple shifts and endless days without sleep. Most of them were now on the inactive list, and were content to while away their remaining years until retirement swapping stories and toasting fallen friends in the warmth of the mess. Much of the time, Jamie envied them.

  The lift drew to a halt on Level A, and Jamie walked quickly down the corridor. He nodded to the Operator stationed outside Admiral Seward’s quarters, knocked on the door and waited. After a couple of seconds, it swung slowly open. Jamie stepped inside to see the Director in his usual position, seated at his desk behind a mountain of paperwork.

  “Lieutenant Carpenter,” said Seward, glancing up from a report he was making notes in the margin of. “At ease.”

  Jamie waited for the Director to finish what he was doing, his hands crossed loosely behind his back. Seward traced the final paragraph of the report with the tip of his pen, swore loudly, crossed out the entire paragraph, and then shoved the paper aside and looked up at Jamie.

  “Feels like half the Operators in the Department are trying to win creative writing prizes,” he said. “What happened to facts? Just the simple facts of the matter, in plain language?”

  “I don’t know, sir,” replied Jamie. “Writing reports is pretty dull, sir. Maybe people are trying to make it more fun.”

  “It’s paperwork, Jamie,” snapped Admiral Seward. “It’s bloody red tape. It isn’t supposed to be fun.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good,” said Seward, and smiled at Jamie. “Glad we’ve got that sorted.”

  “Me too, sir,” replied Jamie, a smile of his own threatening to emerge.

  “How are you feeling about this morning, Jamie?” asked Seward. “Ready for your meeting with Valentin?” There was a slight hitch in the Director’s voice, which Jamie realised was concern.

  He doesn’t want me to do it, thought Jamie. He doesn’t think it’s safe. He doesn’t want me to go down there on my own.

  “I’m fine, sir,” he replied, feeling a slow warmth in his chest. “It’s got to be done.”

  Seward looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. “I suppose it does,” he said. “It feels completely wrong to be sending you in there on your own, but I can’t think of any other solution.”

  “Nor can I, sir.”

  There was a moment’s silence, in which many things went unsaid between the boy and the middle-aged man, and then Seward grabbed for a sheet of paper on his desk, and they returned to business.

  “I spoke to Professor Talbot,” said Admiral Seward. “Last night. I asked him about your new friend, Mr Browning.”

  “What did he say, sir?” asked Jamie, excitedly. If Matt was allowed to stay at the Loop in any sort of capacity, it would be a huge victory.

  “He laughed,” replied Seward, and Jamie’s face fell. “Or at least,” continued the Director, “he did until I showed him Mr Browning’s file. Then he stopped. The first thing he actually said was, ‘The only member of my team with a higher IQ than this boy is me.’”

  “That’s great,” said Jamie. “Isn’t it?”

  “Professor Talbot certainly seems to think so,” replied Admiral Seward. “He’s agreed to take Matt into the Lazarus Project, on a trial basis. The security risk is minimal, because as I’m sure you know, whether this works out or not, Mr Browning isn’t going home again. We can’t take that chance. So we might as well see if he can make himself useful.”

  The implication of the Director’s words hung in the air; Jamie wanted, needed to believe that Admiral Seward was referring to incarceration.

  The alternative was too horrible to consider.

  He was suddenly overcome with a sickly wave of guilt as he realised that, compared to his three friends, he was actually remarkably lucky; he still had his mother, even if she now lived in a cell two hundred metres below ground. Kate, Larissa, and now Matt, had lost everyone important to them.

  “He’ll be brilliant, sir,” said Jamie. “Talbot’s lucky to have him.”

  “Let’s hope he pr
oves you right,” said Admiral Seward. “I’ve sent his temporary commission and his release forms down to the dormitory for him to sign; Talbot wants him to start work immediately. I put him on Level B, in the quarters next to yours; I assume you have no objection to that?”

  “No, sir,” said Jamie, gratefully. “Thank you, sir.”

  “All right then,” replied the Director, nodding sharply. “Once you’ve jumped through Valentin’s hoops, perhaps you could show Matt to his room? I imagine he’ll still be asleep.”

  “Definitely, sir,” said Jamie.

  “Good,” said Seward. “In which case, you’re due in containment in a few minutes. We’ll be watching you from the Ops Room; just keep calm, and try and give him whatever it is he wants. You’ll do fine, Jamie; I have faith in you. Dismissed.”

  Jamie headed back to the lift with Admiral Seward’s words ringing in his ears.

  I have faith in you.

  The Director had said the five words casually, without drawing attention to them; it was as though he believed they shouldn’t even need saying.

  I have faith in you.

  Jamie chewed them over as he waited for the lift to arrive. The only person who had ever said anything similar to him was Larissa, as they stood in the darkness of the Lindisfarne woods with an innocent man’s body at their feet; she had told him that she wouldn’t let him give up. The words had heartened him, filled him with the strength to keep going, and Admiral Seward’s words had done the same; he stepped into the lift as its doors slid open, and pressed the button that would take him down to Valentin Rusmanov.

  On Level H, he found Paul Turner waiting for him. The Security Officer nodded curtly at him as he approached.

  “You know I can’t come in there with you,” he said. It was a statement, rather than a question. “We’ve moved your mother to a temporary location. Valentin’s butler too. It’s just going to be the two of you. Are you ready for this?”

  “I am,” said Jamie, and realised that he was.

  “OK then,” said Turner, with the tiniest approximation of a smile. “You’ll do fine.”

  The Security Officer stood aside. Jamie walked into the gleaming double airlock door that controlled access to the cellblock. He stood in the narrow space as the door behind him closed, shut his eyes as the rushing gas of the spectroscope billowed around him, then walked calmly out of the second door. As he walked down the long, wide corridor, he was incredibly aware of his heart beating in his chest; he tried to control it, tried to force it to slow down, aware that it would sound like the thumping of a bass drum to Valentin as he approached.

  Jamie stepped out in front of the wide ultraviolet wall, and looked into the cell. Valentin Rusmanov was waiting for him in the same chair he had sat in the previous morning, a wide, welcoming smile on his face. The vampire’s shirt collar was open, as was the jacket of his grey suit.

  “Mr Carpenter,” he exclaimed. “A very good morning to you. I had begun to suspect you weren’t coming.”

  Jamie looked at his watch to see that it was seven minutes past eight.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I had a meeting that overran.”

  “No doubt you were being briefed thoroughly on the dangers of being alone with me,” smiled Valentin. “By Admiral Seward, I would guess? He seems rather fond of you.”

  “I’m here now,” said Jamie, determined not to let the vampire dictate the conversation. “Alone, as you requested. May I come in?”

  Valentin nodded at the empty chair in which Paul Turner had sat.

  “Please,” he replied. “Mi casa es su casa. Make yourself at home.”

  Jamie took an involuntary deep breath, which he hoped Valentin didn’t notice, then stepped through the ultraviolet wall. He felt his skin tingle momentarily, then walked steadily across the room and sat down in the chair.

  Less than two metres away, smiling gently, sat one of the most powerful beings in the world.

  “So,” said Valentin, crossing one leg over the other. “What shall we talk about?”

  “You wanted this meeting,” said Jamie. “Why don’t you tell me why?”

  The vampire’s grin widened, and Jamie thought he saw the tiniest flash of red in the corner of its eyes; it had been so fleeting that he couldn’t be sure, but he felt a chill run up his spine nonetheless.

  “There is so much for us to discuss, Jamie – may I call you Jamie? Or do you prefer Mr Carpenter?”

  “Jamie is fine.”

  “Lovely,” said Valentin. “Jamie it is then. The first thing I would like to ask you about is exactly how you were able to kill my brother. Does that seem like a fair place to start the conversation?”

  Jamie’s stomach revolved as a thick wave of unease crashed through him. This, he knew, was the topic that was most likely to place him in danger; unlike the other members of the Zero Hour Task Force, he didn’t believe that Valentin meant him any harm, at least not consciously. But the subject of Alexandru, more specifically of Alexandru’s death, seemed to Jamie the likeliest trigger, if there was to be one.

  “I told you,” he replied. “In the van. Two days ago.”

  “Details, Jamie,” exclaimed Valentin, sitting suddenly forward in his chair and smiling at the teenager. “The devil is in the detail. Tell me again, without tailoring the story to your audience.”

  Jamie hesitated.

  Tell the truth, he thought. He’ll know if you’re lying.

  “I pulled a seven-metre-tall cross down on the back of his head,” said Jamie. “It weighed about two tons, they told me afterwards. It smashed his body to pieces, and I put a stake through his heart. That’s it.”

  “What did he do when it hit him?” asked Valentin, softly. “Did he scream? Did he try to get out of the way? My brother was very fast, if nothing else.”

  “He didn’t see it coming,” said Jamie. “It was behind him, and he was watching me. He thought I’d aimed at him and missed, so he was smiling at me. But I hadn’t; I’d aimed for the cross.”

  “Go on,” said Valentin, his voice low and hungry. “Tell me.”

  “At the last second, just before it hit him, the shadow of the cross fell across him, and he frowned. I can remember it really clearly; it was just a normal frown, like when you see something unusual. He didn’t even try to move, and a second later it landed on him.”

  Valentin leant back in his chair, and raised his eyebrows, a clear sign for Jamie to continue.

  “It broke him,” said Jamie, simply. “There was blood everywhere. I couldn’t believe he could still be alive, but he was. I went and knelt down next to him, while the rest of my team attacked his followers, and he was staring at me. He only had one eye, but it was looking right at me, and he was trying to speak.”

  “What was he trying to say?” asked Valentin. “Could you understand him?”

  “He told me I was too late,” replied Jamie. “Then he said ‘He Rises’, and told me that everyone I loved was going to die. And that’s when I staked him.”

  Valentin looked at him, and Jamie saw open admiration on his face.

  Perhaps I’m not going to die down here, he thought.

  “How did you know it would work?” asked the vampire. “The cross, I mean. How did you know my brother wouldn’t simply move out of the way?”

  “I didn’t,” said Jamie, honestly. “But I knew I couldn’t fight him, and I knew that he knew it too. So I thought that if it looked like I had failed, then he’d be too pleased with himself to notice what I’d really done.”

  “That’s a very large wager. You quite literally gambled your life on it.”

  “Not really,” replied Jamie, shrugging his shoulders. “I was dead either way, or worse, and so were my mother and my friends. I had nothing to lose by then.”

  Valentin leant back in his chair, and drew a beautiful silver cigarette holder from inside his suit jacket. He plucked a dark red cigarette from beneath a band of white silk, placed it in his mouth and lit it. Pungent, aromatic tobacco s
moke wafted into the air, laced with a metallic undercurrent that Jamie recognised instantly.

  “That’s Bliss, isn’t it?” he said.

  Valentin nodded, cocking his head to one side.

  “You’re familiar with it?” the vampire asked.

  “I am,” said Jamie, his hand instinctively touching the patch of scar tissue on his neck, the result of a chemical burn he had received in the laboratory where the majority of the British supply of the vampire drug was produced.

  “Have you ever tried it?” asked Valentin, offering the case towards Jamie. “I’m told it is quite agreeable to humans.”

  “No thank you,” said Jamie, politely. “I’m fine.”

  Valentin nodded, then took a deep drag on the cigarette. His eyes glowed involuntarily red, and he threw back his head, the muscles on his neck standing out. When the rush of the heroin and the human blood had passed, he slowly returned his gaze to Jamie, the red light dwindling in his eyes as he did so.

  “My brother was a monster,” he said, slowly. “I have come to believe that he always was, since we were children, and probably since birth. He felt nothing for anyone other than himself, with the possible exception of Ilyana, his wife. The world is a better place without him in it; he was cruel, and pitiless, and arrogant. It pleases me that the last of those ended up as the reason for his downfall.”

  Jamie didn’t reply; he had no idea what to say to such an admission.

  “I thank you for being honest,” continued Valentin. “I would have known if you weren’t of course, but I’m sure it made you nervous to tell me about murdering a member of my family.”