by Adam Thielen
During his bouts of lucidity, he tried to cast, and he tried to project, but somehow the neural spikes had blocked his abilities. With nothing to focus on and no one to interact with while stuck in the same position, his mind had started to lose its grip on reality.
Then he heard a door open behind him where he could not turn to see. The lights in the room brightened and the sound of footsteps pounded in his eardrums. Entering his field of view was the woman who had put him in chains, Anne Courtemanche.
“How are we doing?” she asked with a slight pause between each word. “I know the mapper can be jarring, but it’s a necessary evil. The neural research we’ve done in just the last decade has granted us knowledge about the Ether no other nation can touch.”
Taq considered possible replies from “you’re a monster,” to “Cho will see you dead,” but nothing came to his lips.
“You still with me, Taq?”
“P-lease,” he coughed during a moment of strength. “Tell me all about it.”
She ignored his sarcasm. “You’ve seen the result.” She lifted her hands in front of his face, then lowered them and sighed. “Why did Cho leave?”
“How should I know?” he said. “She didn’t even say where she was going.”
“Oh,” she replied, “I know where she went. You see, the New Republic isn’t the only one interested in Haven. The little night rats must be exterminated. We figured out the general location years ago, but never tracked anyone to their doorstep, until now. You have both been so helpful,” she said snidely. “But I don’t know why she would leave you behind.”
Taq breathed out through his mouth. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually.”
Anne pushed her fingers through Jones’s beard and clasped his chin while leaning in close. “I’m sure she’ll come riding back any moment now to rescue you.”
“Why do this?” strained Taq.
“You have a wealth of knowledge and ability,” she stated.
“I mean, why the university, the abandoned labs,” said Taq. “They’re dead, aren’t they?”
Anne frowned. “You poor child,” she said. “You really have no conception of the world, the real world. The facade. Whatever you wish to call it. Universities are nothing but welfare for disobedient weaponry. Mages are a drain on society and a threat to security. They are a scourge, as all awakened are.”
“These… are people you are talking about.”
“People are garbage,” asserted Courtemanche. “I told you that, in a moment of weakness, but you didn’t listen. We tolerate those who contribute or serve the greater good. But it’s just a matter of time before mages and nocturnals decide this world belongs to them. The vampires tried it once already.”
“You aren’t the Liberty party,” guessed Jones.
“Of course I am,” she said. “We can’t have a single party hold every office. Eventually another one would rise up to challenge us. With a false adversary, dissidents will have a place to waste resources and feel like they are fighting a cause. The Cepheid board is the real power in the UTI.”
“But what about the warlock?” asked Taq.
“They have their uses,” replied Courtemanche. “He’s properly educated and understands what we are working for.”
“Of course.”
She shrugged. “You really don’t know anything, do you? Just followed her here like a puppy. Goodbye, Taq.” She walked behind him and toward the door.
“You’re right,” he said.
“About what?” she asked, stopping to turn her head.
“Mages,” said Taq. “They are a threat to you, you and all of your ilk.”
Anne raised her eyebrows and smiled. “It’s a good thing we have one less to worry about, then.”
Episode 12: The Dragon
With her eye shield descended and her electric eye used only to send and receive data from the smart wall, Tsenka Cho remained in a void surrounded by virtual sheets floating about her. She drifted in and out of consciousness, shaking herself awake to pull another document close, then file it into one of a half-dozen boxes.
What she had found were connections between the known faction members and a few insurgents that had stayed behind. Their motivations could not be gleaned from spreadsheets and council minutes. But those minutes did discuss at length the overtures made by Makida before her departure, along with those whom she depended on to spread the message.
The vampire refuge New Apulon had nothing approaching a robust economy. The population of nightstalkers and their needs were not large or diverse enough to require more than a rationing system, trusting that most of the citizens would contribute what they could toward maintaining the city. With no access to the global networks, they could not verify crypto-currencies, and physical bills were found only in museums. An internal currency was used, with no value outside of the commune, to pay those who were regular laborers or performed other specialized services.
The council had crypto, though, and a lot of it. Because it was untraceable to any specific entity, scouts would take small amounts on excursions to negotiate supply drops with trusted smugglers. As she hastily dug into the council’s finances, she noticed that expenditures for outfitting the Haven airship had increased significantly after Makida had returned. Tsenka concluded that she’d had powerful friends financing her cause.
DING, DONG!
Tsenka sat up in the darkness, confused by the noise. She then realized she had fallen asleep and someone was at the door. Her eye patch slid open and she saved her work space before disconnecting from her room’s computer.
As expected, Matthias waited for her on the other side. He had a cup in each hand with steam rising from the dark liquid.
“Brought you coffee,” he said.
“Crap, this place is confusing my internal clock,” she replied, realizing it was mid-morning.
“Well,” he replied. “If you’d come out of there once every few hours, you’d sync up with the day and night cycles.”
“Don’t you all get scared when the dome looks like a blue sky?” she asked, taking one of the coffees. She joined him on the balcony and sipped at the drink.
“Most of us sleep,” he said. “But some vampires love it. They miss the daylight.”
“Well, they could just replace their skin,” joked Cho.
Matthias turned to the common area below. “It would not surprise me if some would. But we both know it’s not that easy. Still, I’m sure many envy you.”
“Hmm,” she said, a new thought distracting her. “I need to make a call. Any way I can do that?”
“You could use a sat-phone,” he said. “But it has to go through approval because it requires raising the antenna ,which is dangerous. Or you can depart after introductions are complete.”
Tsenka didn’t respond, opting instead to worry fruitlessly about the fate of her friend.
“Uncover a grand conspiracy yet?” asked Trent.
“Believe it or not, Makida had support on the council.” She rested her elbows on the stone guardwall.
“You can prove it?”
“What’s that matter?” she asked. “There’s no real law here. I can’t rule out strange coincidences. I don’t have signed admissions. I have evidence.”
“Just don’t judge everyone for what a few people did,” said Matthias. “You know what you need?”
“Let me guess.”
“You need to get out of this room and take a tour with me.”
“Knew you’d say that,” she said. “But I really should—”
“Come on,” he said. “You need breaks. Besides, might learn something useful out here.”
Cho nodded. “Fine, let’s go.”
Matthias led Tsenka around the first habitation pod and then through one of its exit corridors to another residential pod, though this one had a sweeping staircase in the middle. They passed underneath it and entered the third housing pod, its center set up as a lowered stage with curved bleachers surroun
ding it. The pair continued their long, circuitous journey around the city, passing through another corridor into a large section segmented into various offices and facilities that were styled similar to hospitals.
“This is the medical section,” he said. “Vampires don’t really get sick. They only need one thing, which is also produced here.”
“Blood?” asked Cho. “How?”
“Bodies,” he answered. “Grown from modified genetics. No brain activity.”
“People? They are growing people here?”
“Yes,” he admitted flatly.
Tsenka stared at the buildings, spotting a large one spanning the width of the pod behind the others. “The big one, right? Lined with human experiments, I bet. You are okay with this?”
“They aren’t suffering,” he said. “They don’t have minds. We drink blood, Tsenka. Not everyone can afford it topside, so they have to take it. But here, no one is harmed.”
“If you believe them,” said Cho. “Even then, I doubt it is as simple and innocent as you want it to be.”
Matthias shook his head. “Want to poke around, interrogate the geneticists?”
“I’m not that concerned,” she said coolly. “But maybe sometime, out of curiosity.”
Trent stared at Tsenka. Unlike her, he hadn’t previously fostered suspicions, but her words made him suddenly concerned about the ethics of their blood supply.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s move on then.”
They approached a large sliding door with a long vertical cylinder for a handle. Globs of grease lined its upper and lower rails. Red signs with the word ‘DANGER’ were lit above the door and on each side. Smaller lettering spelled out the procedure for deactivating the lights inside.
“The most dangerous place in the city,” said Matthias. “The garden.”
“Fake sunlight isn’t that harmful, is it?” she asked, placing her palm to the door, expecting it to feel hot and subsequently unimpressed with the dull warmth.
“The lamps in there are very powerful, and between the light and vegetation, the cameras can lose track of someone in there,” he explained. “The farmers wear protective suits with special trackers built in. Even then, they turn the light down.”
“How much food does this place produce?” she asked. “How much does it need?”
“Most of it goes next door,” he said, referring to the human growth facility.
“Can I go in?” asked Cho.
Matthias opened his mouth to speak but was cut off.
“Approval,” she mocked.
Matthias smiled.
“What about the power plant?” she asked. “Approval?”
He laughed. “There’s a few boilers, but as you might expect, no one gets in. I’ve never seen them myself. I’ve been in the garden once and I did not enjoy the thought that with the flick of a switch I could be fried.”
“Not me,” she said with a grin.
“No, not you. Anyway, I’m hungry and that’s the end of the tour. Let’s eat something.”
Tsenka shrugged and started walking with him back toward the habitation pod. “I imagine the fare will be a bit bland.”
“The supply drops always have meats and spices and food,” he said. “We aren’t limited to what’s grown here.”
“You just feed that crap to the bodies.”
Matthias frowned. “Some of it.”
“The circle of life.”
“Come on, let’s change the subject already,” he suggested.
Instead of switching, the conversation stopped, and they walked quietly to a food court nestled into one side of the nearest habitation pod and strolled from one vendor to the next, with Matthias patiently waiting for Tsenka to decide what to try. She settled on steak, raw, while Matthias ordered a plate of hash browns. They sat at one of the tables under a tree.
Cho looked up at the simulated dusk, then turned to watch a group of young-looking vampires stroll along the curved sidewalk.
“This is an interesting place,” she said.
“Just wait,” said Matthias. “There’s an outdoor party tonight.”
Tsenka shrugged. “I didn’t come to dance.”
“Well, I will be dragging you outside either way. And have you read about the fights yet?”
“No,” she said. “I’ve been skipping over social stuff in the documents. I imagine it’s pretty self-explanatory.”
“Sure,” he replied. “But you used to love fighting.”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “Did I love that, or was it always just training?” She shook her head. “I think I just wanted to be near you.”
Matthias pursed his lips with a slight smile. “I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” she said. “You aren’t planning on trying to play house with me here, are you?”
Matthias opened his mouth then glanced up to see the waiter bringing their food. He set the plates down and Tsenka grumbled at the small portion of meat.
“Now I’m sure I can’t settle down here,” she said, still staring at her plate with disappointment.
“Thank you,” Matthias told the man, who bowed and walked away. “That is a perfectly sized portion,” he said, pointing his fork at her steak.
“Hmph,” she reacted, feigning reluctance at carving off a piece of the red meat.
“Have you been drinking your blood rations?” he asked.
She shook her head as she chewed. “No,” she said between chomps.
“No wonder.”
In the middle of their meal, a woman, middle-aged in appearance, approached their table. She smiled and bowed to Matthias who returned the gesture.
“Councilwoman Pang,” he greeted. “This is Tsenka Cho, a new arrival.”
“Good evening, Matthias,” she returned. “And to you, Ms. Cho.”
“Sup,” managed Cho as she continued to eat. Matthias closed his eyes.
“Everyone knows Ms. Cho, just as they knew you, Mr. Trent,” continued Pang. “The Dracul brings word that he will see you, both of you. And on behalf of the council, I invite you to visit with us as well.”
“Tha wha?” asked Cho, lowering her fork.
“Thank you, Ms. Pang,” said Matthias. They bowed to each other again.
“I will let you get back to your meal,” Pang said before walking away.
Tsenka finished chewing and swallowed while staring at Matthias.
“Well, that was kinda rude,” he said.
“What the fuck is a Dracul?” she asked, setting her utensils on the plate.
“Andrei,” replied Matthias. “It will make more sense soon. Hmm. He didn’t take long to agree to meet. We’ll go after you finish.”
“Maybe we should make him wait.” Tsenka stared at him to gauge his reaction, counting the seconds in her mind.
“Let’s not,” he said.
She flashed a grin then resumed eating.
In the center of three habitation pods, a long, wide staircase led up to a large Roman-styled hall of pillars. Two vampires stood guard in front of arching wooden double doors branded with runic symbols. Neither guard moved their eyes from Cho as she and Matthias approached. Tsenka could hear the sound of crickets chirping as night set in, but her audio processor told her that it was a simulated sound.
“Evening,” said Trent.
The guards did not respond, except to nod. The doors creaked open and Matthias passed through with Tsenka in tow. The interior was lined with more pillars next to the side walls with a large open space between the doors and a throne at the far end of the room. A blood-red carpet two meters across split the room in half. The seat of power sat on a marble platform with three stairs descending. Tsenka noted the exit door behind and to the left of the throne, as well as doors on each side of the room.
She counted six guards, with two positioned on each side, the second pair close to the platform, and two more on the platform pressed against the wall. Rustic wooden Xs with large globes of light on the ends hung fro
m a high-arched ceiling while drapes decorated the walls and the tops of the pillars. In the throne sat a thin man with ashen skin and jet-black hair slicked back. He wore a loose-fitting shirt with a V-neck and wide sleeves that rested on his forearms coupled with a plain pair of brown pants. His feet were bare.
As Tsenka and Matthias approached, the man seemed to wake from a trance and stood. He smiled and placed his hands at his waist, and when Matthias reached the first step, he gave a short bow of his head. Tsenka watched, half-amused, and waited.
“Matthias,” the man greeted. “How are you?” The man spaced out his words. His voice was nasally but smooth with little inflection.
“I am well, Dracul,” Trent replied. “And yourself?”
“I am unchanging,” said the Dracul. “I am pleased to see that your guest has arrived.” He turned to Cho, his pale pink irises entrancing her. “Your friend insists on formalities, but you may call me Andrei, Ms. Cho.” He held out his spindly hand connected to a delicate wrist and thin forearm.
“Just Tsenka,” she said, taking his hand. He bowed and Cho mimicked him. “So I hear you're the big man. Is that what Dracul translates to from Elvish?”
Matthias exhaled, resisting the urge to facepalm.
Andrei smirked. “It used to mean ‘dragon,’ and was my family name long ago. Now, if it means anything, it means the first, or perhaps the origin.”
“You’ve been here a while, haven’t you?” she asked.
“Long is relative. I think you would consider the number of years I have been here quite sizeable.”
“You really wanted to get away from it all,” she said. “And where some people see a vast uninhabitable wasteland, others see a secret vampire city.”
“Ha,” he said in place of an actual laugh. “You are more fun than Matthias here. He is a very serious vampire. I tend to intimidate the others, but not you.”
Tsenka shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that. But I am more fun. And I am also more skeptical of the innocence of this place.”