Blood Siren

by Michael Formichelli

  “After you,” Baron Keltan said.

  He nodded and walked after her with bold steps, watching carefully.

  It was short but perfectly in proportion. The black stripes covering its body made it difficult to make out its form in the dim light, but Nero could still see the shifting muscles under the alternating pattern. It moved smoothly, like water flowing over rocks, and with total comfort. From this he discerned two things; one, it was completely unconcerned about them, and two, he would hate to have to fight it.

  Of course it’s unconcerned, it’s more machine than you are. It is a silicon-based life form, artificially created by Baron Revenant’s top scientists nearly a decade ago. You can’t read it like you do biological entities. No matter what, it’s going to look relaxed.

  Nero snorted.

  It led them from the landing pad level down a staircase and into a lift that took them further down still. He noted Baron Keltan’s reluctance to get near Baron Revenant’s pet. He took pains to make sure Nero was between him and it at all times. He wondered what Baron Keltan would think if he knew he had doubts about his ability to handle it in a fight.

  They emerged from the lift deep within the structure. The corridor was decorated in black velvet. A blood-red carpet ran from the lift door down into the seemingly infinite darkness ahead of them giving Nero the distinct impression that it was designed to mock the Keltan mourning robe. Illumination came from weakly pulsing circular lights every two meters on either side of the carpet, providing just enough light to see by, but no more.

  He noted that the corridor’s design was getting under his ward’s skin. Baron Keltan was so tense he had trouble walking.

  “What’s with this?” Nero gestured at the decor around them.

  “I told you Baron Revenant has a flair for the dramatic.” Baron Keltan shook his head.

  “He certainly does.”

  They came to the end of the corridor and stood before a brass lined door in the darkness. The dim lights caused its stippled glass to shimmer as though it were made of ice. It split down the middle and slid aside at the striped pigmy’s touch.

  A blast of hot, humid air washed over them.

  Just as every surface in the corridor was covered with velvet, so the drum-like chamber into which they entered was made completely out of black stone. It was a large room illuminated by a single glowing ring that circumscribed the space where the floor met the curve of the wall. The room was devoid of decoration, save for nine white marble-skinned artificials. All bare, and all female, they stood about the space with mechanical stillness, illuminated from below by small discs of light that served to enhance their inhumanly symmetrical features. They were positioned to give the illusion of thinking, walking, reaching upward and screaming at the wall like some kind of bizarre statue garden.

  In the center of this strange menagerie was a wide steaming pool of water built into the floor. Seven more artificial women lounged within it, doting upon a single man who fixed his razor-like blue eyes on Nero and Baron Keltan as they approached.

  Baron Revenant’s pet stopped at the edge of the tub. It dropped to one knee and bowed its head to its master. “I bring you Praetor Nero Graves the Abyssian, and Baron Cylus Keltan of Keltan Securities, my lord.”

  Baron Revenant reached a dripping and pruned hand from the water to stroke his pet’s head. “You’ve done well, Qis. Welcome Praetor Graves, Cousin Keltan. Welcome to my home. Can I get you any refreshment?”

  Nero bowed. “No, thank you, Baron. This is an official call. I have to ask you some questions.”

  Baron Revenant touched his pet on the shoulder and she slid into the tub beside him. “How about you, cousin?”

  “No, thank you.” Baron Keltan folded his arms on his chest and squared his shoulders.

  “You’ve got a lot of artificials here,” Nero said.

  “I find they are much more agreeable company than humans. Don’t you agree, cousin?” Baron Revenant snapped his fingers and one of the statues broke its pose to fetch a glass of bubbling fluid from an alcove in the wall. She placed it in the baron’s hand and returned to her original position.

  Nero noted that though the baron’s eyes were sharp they were also cold and detached. It was as though he were playing a game he was interested in winning but with the sure knowledge that it was, in the end, only a game. Nero wondered what life meant to men such as him. Did it have meaning only so long as it entertained them? Or was life valued for its own sake?

  He decided that dancing around the issue was pointless. Subtlety wasn’t his strong suit, but he bet that it was the baron’s. Rather than fight the man on his own ground, Nero decided on an approach more suited to his particular skill set.

  “Baron, I don’t want to take up much of your time so I’ll cut right to it. Do you have any negative feelings, or any reason to have negative feelings towards the Mitsugawa family?”

  Baron Revenant slowly licked his lips. When he was done, he took a sip from his glass, then slowly took another. “Praetor Graves, do you download the Barony broadcasts?”

  “Not often. I don’t really care for politics.”

  “Being what you are, I gather you wouldn’t,” Baron Revenant said.

  “Why do you ask?” Nero said.

  Probably because the question you just asked has an answer about as obvious as gravity, Prospero interjected.

  “Just curious,” Baron Revenant said.

  Nero could see Baron Keltan tremble at his side. Lines of tension were written in the way he stood. Nero knew that look well. The baron was a bomb waiting to go off.

  “Answer the question, Baron. This is a formal inquiry,” he said.

  “Praetor Graves, I have nothing—no, had nothing but professional animosity towards Baron Mitsugawa. He opposed my bill in the Barony, and though his opposition was inconvenient, it was nothing more than that.”

  “Nothing more?” Baron Keltan said. His voice was like a cracking whip.

  Baron Revenant shrugged and took another sip of his wine.

  “Prospero, pull the baron’s file,” Nero said.

  Baron Revenant frowned. “Prospero? Are you in communication with someone Praetor Graves?”

  He shrugged. He had no desire to explain himself to Baron Revenant. Lack of respect was something that could be easily reciprocated.

  We have very limited access to this compound’s network. Baron Revenant must have some very good sysadmins working for him. I gather you’re looking for data relating to any motive Baron Revenant might have to harm Baron Mitsugawa? We don’t need Baron Revenant’s personal files for that.

  A series of social reports in the year thirty of the Confederate calendar detailed the break-up of one Baron Zalor Revenant, and one Heiress Aurora Cronus. Rather messy, and cross-referencing their names pulls up several political opinion pieces where Heir Representative Cronus is blocking Baron Revenant’s political agenda using her position as the planet Stolchem’s representative in the Sovereign Council.

  “Praetor Graves, let me remind you that you are in my home. As such I have a right to know anyone your SCC is communicating with,” Baron Revenant said with an amused smile.

  “He’s an Abyssian. He doesn’t have to answer you,” Baron Keltan’s voice quivered.

  “Cousin, I’m hurt. Are you taking sides against me?”

  “What about Heir-Representative Cronus?” Nero said.

  Baron Revenant’s expression melted away. “What about her?”

  “In thirty you two had a rather messy break up. She was married to the deceased. Do you still hold animosity towards her?” He put his hands behind his back and took a step forward.

  “That is the ancient past, Praetor Graves.”

  “She’s been fighting your agenda for years.”

  “Attempting to. She fails more times than not, as expected. She’s got a grudge against me.”

  “For?” Nero said.

  Baron Revenant shrugged. His smile returned. “Who knows? Maybe
she never got over me? Maybe she’s just a hysterical woman?”

  “Maybe you disowned her daughter.” Baron Keltan’s voice was hot with his increasingly visible anger.

  “There’s no maybe there. I did disown the bastard.” Baron Revenant shrugged.

  “And why was that?” Nero said.

  “It’s on the public record, Praetor Graves, right where it belongs. I disowned her, officially, to prevent a political rival from digging her claws into my family’s fortune. The Revenant holdings are quite extensive, and the Cronuses have long envied my family. That’s all in the record too, by the way. Did you two come over here without a solid plan? Didn’t do your homework? Praetor Graves, you have such a strong reputation at the Agency. I’m surprised.”

  Nero took another step forward. Four of the nine statue-like artificials were within a few steps of him. Only one of the remaining five was near Baron Keltan.

  “And just what is your reputation? Ah, yes, it is for being un-killable, and you have the scars to prove it. You served with the Star Corps 7th Star-Commando Division during those nasty skirmishes with the Orgnan Empire.” Baron Revenant’s eyes shimmered in the light reflected off the water.

  “The Savorchan War.” Nero nodded. He wondered if this recitation of his past was meant to be intimidating.

  “That was a particularly interesting time in your history, Praetor Graves. It marks the first, and so far, only real blemish on your record. You failed to save the Rega family at the end of the war,” Baron Revenant said.

  “The father and daughter survived, as did the cerberai,” he said in a strong voice. He had a sinking feeling in his gut he didn’t want the baron to pick up on.

  “But poor Doctor Paula Rega perished in the fire you unleashed with that poorly timed anti-matter grenade. What were you thinking at the time, Praetor Graves?”

  I told you it was a bad idea, Prospero said.

  “I came here to ask you about Baron Mitsugawa.” Nero wanted to beat the smug smile off of Baron Revenant’s face. He sent some of his anger in Prospero’s direction for joining the baron’s mockery.

  “Have I touched a nerve, Praetor Graves?” Baron Revenant’s smile grew wider.

  Nero took another step forward. Four more and he’d be in the tub with his hands tearing the baron’s throat open.

  Baron Revenant’s little striped killing machine moved between them, baring her fang-teeth.

  The baron finished his glass and placed it down on the tub’s rim with practiced ease.

  Nero spent several moments just breathing and staring at the Baron’s gleaming eyes, waiting for the burning anger to leave his blood before he spoke.

  “Now that Baron Mitsugawa is out of the way, I guess your bill is going to pass.” Nero flexed his fingers at his sides.

  Nero, try to calm down. Your agitation is weakening your position.

  Baron Revenant laughed. “All right, I’ll play. Hephestia doesn’t have quite the political pull that Yoji did. He was quite well respected among the Cleebian barons. Without him, their support will be a memory.” Baron Revenant sunk a little deeper into the tub. One of his artificials slid up beside him and started rubbing his neck with a pale hand.

  “That’s motive, isn’t it?” Nero said.

  “It is. You’re right. Fortunately for me, I didn’t do it. I’ve got nothing to hide, Praetor Graves. Not even what the Cronuses think they found on Ganymede.”

  Nero was mid-step when the words hit him. His foot paused in the air. He wondered how much of this new information the baron would spill before he realized Nero didn’t know about it.

  I’m on it. I’ll need several moments to hack through the Revenant system’s blocking software to access the Cyberweb to start scanning for references to a break-in on Ganymede. Yes, I’ll let Agent Khepria know to start working on it as soon as I can as well.

  “No matter what those two Cronus harpies think, transcripts of communications prove nothing. Some of them were between Brudah, Baroness Altair as you know her, and I. Some were between myself and certain employees and contacts. They seem to imply that I am plotting something, or perhaps am responsible for something horrible, yes?”

  Nero’s lips pressed together tightly as he thought about what to say that wouldn’t give away his ignorance. Fortunately, he was spared the need.

  “They seem to imply you’re responsible for the deaths of my family. What did you ship to Brogh? What got them killed, Zalor?” Baron Keltan’s voice reverberated off of the stone walls with a tinny echo.

  Nero turned far enough to see that Baron Keltan hadn’t moved deeper into the room where, if violence broke out, the concentration of Baron Revenant’s pet artificials would’ve assured his destruction. He tried to warn his charge with a look not to come any closer before turning back to Baron Revenant.

  Baron Revenant’s eyes narrowed at Baron Keltan. “You think I caused your family’s massacre? I am as loyal a citizen as ever you will meet, Cylus. I love the Confederation with all my heart because the Cosmos Corporation, my corporation, is the heart of the Confederation. Why do you think I would kill your family? This costly war with the Broghite Alliance is weakening us all. I would never dream of doing such a thing.”

  “My father sided with the Cronuses against you. He switched parties,” Baron Keltan said.

  “Politics. He was a political rival, just like Yoji was, and nothing more.”

  “You kill your rivals, Zalor. Everyone knows that!” Baron Keltan shook.

  “You shouldn’t be listening to rumors, Cylus, it’s bad for business. Look at the facts. I kill no one. I buy them.”

  “Heir Representative Cronus says otherwise,” Nero said.

  “She is as mistaken as she is desperate. She just lost a husband and is looking for someone to blame, just as you are.” Baron Revenant’s smile was venomous.

  “What?” Baron Keltan said.

  “Why else would she accuse me so unjustly? Perhaps, subconsciously, it’s part of her vendetta against me for dumping her all those years ago. It’s all hysterical nonsense. If she was serious about bringing me down she’d kill her sister and become a true Baroness so she could oppose me directly in the Barony. The Sovereign Conclave, that little political club she belongs to, is only a tool to keep the masses in line. Their proclamations mean little in the grand scheme.”

  Baron Keltan stammered. “Political club? The Sovereign Conclave is a legislative body just as empowered as the Barony.”

  “You have to get elected to the Conclave. Do you know what that means? You have to have the approval of the wage slaves.” Baron Revenant placed the glass beside the tub and climbed out. Another of his statues became animated and fetched a towel for him as he stood with arms outstretched.

  Nero blinked several times. Was this guy for real?

  I’m with you on this one, Nero. He’s insane.

  “Oh, that reminds me, Cylus. Your uncle—your real uncle—Olivaar and I have found a proper match for you.” The baron waited while his artificial slave toweled his body dry.

  “Oh?” Baron Keltan said. His voice quivered. The emotional pressure of the encounter was taking its toll. His skin was paler than normal, and his copper locks were matted against his flesh.

  “Yes, Baron Olivaar’s daughter, Pasqualina, should do nicely. Marrying your wealth to Olivaar’s will give you control of the mining industry when Olivaar passes on,” Baron Revenant said.

  “And give you access to both that and my father’s wealth?” Baron Keltan said.

  “Pasqualina is not my daughter,” Baron Revenant said, but Nero could see in his eyes he knew exactly what Baron Keltan meant.

  “Olivaar is your tool and always has been. I doubt I’d live out the week. Besides, she’s my cousin—my genetic cousin. Don’t think for a moment I’d actually consider it.” Baron Keltan looked sick to his stomach.

  “We’ll see. You and the Abyssian are welcome to depart now. Qis darling, show them out.” Baron Revenant turned his back to them
.

  His creature leapt from the water of the tub with a sound like a plug being pulled, and landed on the tiled floor showing her fang filled grin to Nero. His eyes flickered to her, but returned to Baron Revenant’s back. He put one hand on his pistol’s butt.

  “I have a feeling I’ll be back, Baron Revenant,” Nero said.

  “So do I,” Baron Revenant said.

  Chapter Seven

  Ikuzlu City: Solan District, Kosfanter

  41:0:45 CST (J2400:3052)

  “Do that trick again for me.” She pressed her bare body against his tightly-muscled frame. His skin was dry, but felt oily like wax.

  Cygni purred, stroking the oscillating oilskin chest of her lover. The back and forth motion was entirely different from that of her own species, whose breathing resembled a balloon inflating and deflating. Each pulse made the cluster of her lover’s teardrop-shaped nostril petals quiver like a fist-sized rose in the breeze. She watched, fascinated by the rippling motion. It was different from anything she had known before, and that was the point. After so many failed relationships with Solan men—her own species—Cygni was ready to try something different when she met Shkur Ithros.

  Though nearly half-a-meter shorter than she, he had enough strength to tear her in half if he wanted. The Nyangari reputation for selecting mates based on strength and cunning, as shallow as she felt admitting it, was part of what drew her to him. She liked muscles, and after five dates when she finally had him out of his formal suit she hadn’t been disappointed.

  “It is not a trick, Cygni.” His voice was half-growl and half-slurred, like distant thunder in a rainstorm. It caused ripples in the pouch of loose skin below the arrowhead-like jaws of his muzzle.

  “Just do it for me again. I love it.” She held her hand over the quivering flower of his nose.

  Her bedroom was the second largest room of the four chambers in her apartment and only had room for her bed, a dresser, and a narrow space around both to walk. Typical for the neighborhood, its white walls were decorated only with her diploma from Minlea Colonial College, and a holographic freeze-frame from her first Cyberweb broadcast. She had worried the first time she brought Shkur up here that he would find it too confining, but she couldn’t keep forcing him to accept her at his much larger and nicer apartment in the diplomatic district without reciprocating from time to time; it just wasn’t fair. As a member of the Nyangari consulate security force, he was used to the finest hotels and elaborate dwellings that official diplomatic careers provided. To Shkur’s credit, he hadn’t said a word his first time in her apartment. It wasn’t until she started getting him out of his clothes that he finally said anything about her dwelling. When he did it was a comment about her choice of air freshener and not the size. Just thinking about what he did to her body after still made her toes curl.