Winterfall

by John Conroe

  He twittered again, turning to look at Stacia.

  “Stacia doesn’t go to school with us. But she’s with Declan, and you know his scent from school. He’s been in my room many times,” Ashley said, pointing over her left shoulder at the tall witch who was now next to Stacia. Mack could see the moment when the little Speaker realized what she’d just said. Turning quickly, she looked at the werewolf girl. “Ah, that sounded bad. I meant when all the friends were there,” she said nervously.

  Mack didn’t blame her. The first few months that Declan and Stacia had been official, the wolf girl had been dangerously jealous of other women around her witch. One of the werewolves at Arcane, Matthew, had told Mack that it was always the case with the newly bonded, but that it would get somewhat better with time’s passage.

  Stacia just nodded back at Ashley with an easy smile.

  Pancho waited till Ashley turned back to him, then launched into a long, ear-searing speech.

  “I didn’t get all that,” Ashley said, glancing at her dad.

  “I think he’s wondering if you are dissatisfied with him and his clan. At a guess, he’s butthurt that you brought reinforcements,” Ian said.

  Ashley took that in, then turned back to the puck and his clan, all still hovering in place.

  “Pancho, you and your clan are still my protectors. My dad is still my protector. Charm—” she said, which caused the little dog to bounce over and rub against her leg, “—is my defender. And my friends have always protected me on Earth. This time, here on Fairie, I’ve been warned that I need all the protection I can get. There are those among the Fae who don’t welcome a Speaker. Those who feel negotiating with the dragons is a step backwards. I am in more danger this time. So I brought more backup.”

  The tiny puck leader tilted his head, scratching it in thought. After a second, he straightened, coming to attention in midair. With a clear nod, he accepted her explanation before turning and lecturing his troops. He pointed at Mack, Jetta, Declan, and especially Stacia, twittering to his clan. The other pucks took it all in, chorused back at him in unison, and flew out to set up a flying perimeter around the group.

  Ashley’s head snapped around to look at the giant dragonhead watching them. She grimaced. “Fascinating to you maybe, but that’s not a word I’d use,” she said to the dragon, exasperated.

  The jaw split apart a bit, revealing truly horrific teeth bigger than cucumbers. Mack almost backed into the railing again before his mind realized he was seeing a dragon version of a grin.

  With a shake and huff, the massive neck and head retreated back into the darkened arch.

  “Come on. Let’s get to our rooms,” Ashley said.

  It wasn’t that easy, though, because, as they trooped up the short set of steps from the Speaker’s balcony, they found a line of white-clad elves waiting for them.

  Without even slowing down, Ashley started reeling off strange names and instructions to go with them.

  “New bedding straw for Collox, please. Trygon would like to have his travel straps removed. Sassioch would like her water tank scrubbed; it seems to have developed some algae growths,” she said, each sentence to a different elf, who promptly split off and left, presumably to carry out her instructions.

  “Are they all speaking to you right now?” Stacia asked. “The dragons, that is.”

  “They have been since I arrived,” Ashley said, nodding. “Most of the time I answer them in my head, but when I’m face to face, I like to speak out loud.”

  “They have really interesting names,” Jetta said.

  “Oh, those aren’t truly their names, just the shortened versions that I use. I can say them in my head but I doubt I could even begin to pronounce them out loud. Probably not in the range of human vocal cords,” Ashley replied. “Let’s go see our rooms before I need to deliver more requests.”

  With that, she led them to a staircase that descended to the elf level. “Remember, not everyone is happy that this summit is happening. Be on your guard at all times. You’ll need to leave your rifles in the apartments most of the time but side arms should always be with you,” she said, patting her own Springfield 9mm. She turned and began down the stairs, a screen of pucks flying out ahead of her. Jetta and Stacia followed immediately, along with Charm.

  Mack exchanged a look with Declan before both of them turned to Mr. Moore. He smiled grimly, clapping them both on the back. “Come on, boys. The fun’s about to start.”

  Chapter 6

  Chris

  Rome

  “This time, I want a sample of flesh,” Doc Singh said.

  “From any particular part of the body?” I asked, accepting the glass sample tube and its sturdy locking cap.

  “Not at this juncture,” the vampire doctor said.

  I stood up and moved toward the cell door. Along the walls, the Vatican guards straightened, their sergeant leaving off his quiet conversation with Mr. Deckert to watch me.

  This would be my fourth time into the cell. I had demonstrated once when Tanya and the others had first arrived in the Vatican basement, using that time to place Omega’s advanced remote cameras. Stefano had attacked me with a chair. Then I went in again to get Singh a sample of the clear fluid that had replaced Stefano’s blood. That time, it was Stefano and two rats, the little beasts having grown from the side of his body. The rats had been consumed again after that ploy failed to stop me.

  The good doctor had spent an hour experimenting with the blood-like substance while Tanya, Senka, Arkady, and Nika had left to view the glowing archway. Nika had tried reading the Stefano-thing with her telepathy but got nothing, nada, zilch, so she’d wanted to visit the arch instead. Said the Stefano-thing was a complete blank. Auntie Lydia had stayed with Singh and myself, mostly to watch over the twins. We didn’t leave them at Senka’s massive Roman palace, er, house when we weren’t there, having decided they were better protected with us.

  I glanced at one corner of the guardroom. An enormous furry bulk took up the entire corner. He lay on the floor, head over his massive paws, his forearms extended in front of him, cruel claws interlocked. Awasos lifted his head to look back at me and revealed, inside the sweep of his paws, Wulf and Cora, lying on their backs, little hands reaching for his whiskers, which would be tugged mercilessly if they could grab them.

  I know what you’re thinking. What the hell kind of parent leaves babies in that position? Putting them on the cold concrete that way. But before you prejudge me, you should know that the twins were side-by-side in a foam insulated, portable bassinet whose sturdy rope handle was right where my were-bear-wolf could grab it with his jaws if he needed to evacuate. Plus ‘Sos is really warm.

  That’s what you were questioning, right? The cold concrete floor? Certainly you wouldn’t question the wisdom of an eighteen-hundred-pound ursine nursemaid, right? Of course not. You would remember that he was half wolf and totally loyal to his pack. That he would give his life to protect pack cubs. Or maybe you would question the dangerous little vampire who crouched next to him, ready to snatch up a baby or both at the first sign of hunger, danger, or diaper rash. That one, I could forgive you. Exposing babies to that much raw sass has got to be against government guidelines pretty much everywhere.

  Babies protected by supernatural predator and were-bear-wolf, I turned back to the cell door.

  The thing that had been Stefano was right up against the door, waiting for my next visit, black eyes fastened on me. It had started to do that right after my second trip inside the cell. When I went in to get the blood stuff, I’d simply moved faster than it could, shoving it back before it could get out. Something was different this time.

  “You should be advised that it has torn off one of its fingers a few minutes ago,” Omega said through my phone’s speaker. “The finger has rearranged itself into an approximation of a mouse and currently waits by the doorframe in a clear attempt to gain freedom.”

  “Any suggestions?” I asked.

  “You ha
ve not, to my knowledge, attempted any projection of your aura with this subject. It might be time for such an experiment,” the super AI suggested.

  I considered that. I had cut the creature with a mono-edged line of aura on its right forearm in order to gather the clear blood.

  “Did the cut I made heal as fast as its other wounds?” I asked.

  “That wound has now healed. I was unable to keep it under direct observation, but based upon the fluid that continued to soak the material of its jumpsuit, I would conjecture that it healed slower. Healing, by the way, is not the most accurate way to describe the phenomenon. The higher resolution and zoom capabilities of the cameras you emplaced have allowed a much greater understanding of the process. Observe,” Omega said, and the CCTV camera monitor on the wall of the guard room flickered, changing over to an image of Stefano standing with a crushed nose. It was a scene from after my last entry. The camera zoomed in until only pale pink skin filled the screen.

  “As Doctor Singh’s tests have shown, the clear fluid that now fills the body’s circulatory system is actually a biological equivalent of nanites, like those that course through Caeco Jensen’s bloodstream. Constructed of carbon nanotubes lined with extraordinarily aggressive enzymes and containing trace metals, each biological nanite works with its neighbors to strip apart almost any organic material and then reassemble it into whatever tissue is needed. It is almost akin to microscopic 3D printing. Would you concur, Doctor?” Omega asked.

  The doctor considered the explanation and then nodded. “As good a description as I can think of, for now,” he said. “In the case of lycanthropes and Darkkin, the viruses responsible accelerate the host’s natural immune and healing systems to fantastic levels. But this replaces all the systems of the body with a fluid that contains a micro fabrication system of a sort.”

  “That sounds ominous,” I said.

  “Different. Very fast, and it can rebuild any wound or lost limb. The LV and V-squared viruses actually attack foreign invaders while speeding up the healing. These micro units do as well. The results vary. Oh, and the viruses resist those nanos, depending on virulence. The virus in Awasos’s saliva is potent enough to destroy the units in vast numbers. So too with old vampires and definitely with you and Tanya, at least in the quantities I used under test conditions,” the doctor said.

  “Wait, what? What do you mean… quantities?” I asked.

  “It’s like two armies fighting it out on a battlefield. A drop of the entity’s blood substitute will turn a normal human, but not a young vampire. An older vampire could resist a much larger quantity, as could a werewolf of normal age. But too great an amount of nanos and the virus would be overwhelmed like elite soldiers being outnumbered,” Dr. Singh said.

  “Excellent analogy, Doctor,” Omega said.

  “So a horde of these things could overwhelm any one of our systems? Potentially?” I asked.

  Dr. Singh nodded. Omega stayed quiet.

  “So we have a biological vector that self-replicates in any biological system it finds, rebuilding that organism into an unkillable weapon?” I asked.

  “Incorrect. High temperature and powerful corrosives destroy it. Other weapons are yet possible,” Omega said.

  “So we need an army of Declans to burn these zombies,” I said.

  “Father’s abilities do make him uniquely suited to repelling this type of creature. However, your ability with high-energy particles might also be viable. Disruption of the enzymatic payload would render each unit ineffective. There may also be combinations of proteins that could achieve the same impact. Also, I would not characterize them as zombies. They do replicate their soldiers in the bodies of their enemies, yet this is not a case of undead, but rather living tissue supplanted by another biology.”

  “Tomato, Tamatoe,” I said. “They take over our bodies, are stronger, feel no pain, and are seemingly unkillable. They don’t seem to eat or drink either.”

  “Incorrect. There has been no food or water available to the entity, so we have not, in fact, had opportunity to observe if it will consume nutrients. That does not mean it would not if presented with either. Also, photographic measurement of the entity shows a marked decrease in its mass over the last hour, particularly after you have re-injured it. I surmise it is consuming its own organic material to replenish energy. Likewise, the nano units are likely able to help conserve water in a myriad of ways,” Omega said. “The rest of your comparison is not without some merit.”

  “So, what? Should I bring it a sandwich and a glass of water?” I asked.

  “Perhaps. I should like to see the results of your aura projection first. Doctor, what do you think?”

  “I agree. I’m also interested in the effects of radiation,” Dr. Singh said.

  “Yes. In theory, the carbon nanotubes may absorb some radiation, giving it a resistance, but that is just a possibility,” Omega said. “Electrical overload has potential as well.”

  Ignoring the scientific brainstorming for the moment, I pooled aura into my right hand. When it glowed bright violet to my Sight, I pushed it out, through the door and into the cell beyond.

  The thing formally known as Stefano flew backward, a gray lump of fur alongside it, landing on the concrete floor. Before I could dart through the door, Dr. Singh was alongside me, pressing a second tube into my hand.

  “Get a sample now and then another again in a few minutes,” he said. Then I was through the door and slicing a sliver of flesh into the first tube before resealing it. The thing lay unmoving; the first time it had stopped motion since I had laid eyes on it. No breathing, no twitches, no anything.

  A minute ticked by, and then another. Suddenly, a finger twitched. And then again, and then Stefano the alien zombie sat up and turned his head to look at me. That’s as far as he got before I was on him, slicing off another sample for tube number two. Holding him in place with my right hand, I sliced with my left and then fumbled the sliver into the tube, retreating to the door to seal it with both hands. Stefano stood back up and charged but I was already out the door and locking it behind me. Next, I wiped the tubes and my hands with a cloth moistened in a solution of mildly diluted hydrochloric acid from a ceramic bowl by the guards’ coffee station sink.

  Dr. Singh took the samples and raced back to a small biosafety cabinet with attached working gloves that was on his tabletop lab. Meanwhile, I washed my hands thoroughly to get the stinging acid off them. It was a strong enough solution to leave my skin pink and angry looking. My skin has grown much tougher over the last few years, so the acid was apparently pretty strong.

  “Wash them twice more before you even think of coming near these darlings,” Lydia said, suddenly leaning around my arm to inspect my hands.

  “Yes Auntie L,” I said. She was right, of course, but I didn’t have to be graceful about it.

  “See, if only I’d been there when you were a tiny infant, I might have saved something… useful? Instilled some competence? Taught you to walk and chew gum at the same time,” she said, now across the room next to the living bear cradle.

  “How are they?” I asked.

  “Mostly dry except for a few unfortunate spots of bear saliva,” she said. The giant head turned and regarded her. “What? You drool. Deal with it,” she said, turning back to me. “They’ll be hungry soon. We don’t have any more mommie’s milk for them.”

  I glanced at the clock on the wall as I walked over to check the bambinos for myself, then reached out mentally, feeling for my vampire.

  “She’s headed this way,” I said to Lydia. Crouching down, I leaned against Awasos and looked over the kids. They looked back. Ultra alert and responsive with everyone, they were even more so with their parents. Both sets of blue eyes were locked on me, hands moving from their whiskery targets toward me. I reached back.

  “Nope! Not without protective gloves, and ideally not even then. You’ve been inside that room with a biological nightmare. You’re probably still covered in infectious crud,”
Lydia said, squirming between me and my babies. Grim surged a bit at that but settled as I decided she was, unfortunately, entirely correct.