The Redwood Trilogy Box Set

by Jaxon Reed

  Physician Kumai lectured on for several minutes explaining cell regeneration in medical jargon. I started to zone out. Is there anything more dull than a medical conference to someone who is not a Physician? Finally, she opened the floor for questions.

  Somebody’s hologram raised their hand.

  “So, essentially, in layman’s terms, their cells regenerate upon drinking someone else’s blood?”

  “That’s it in a nutshell,” she nodded. “Blood is absorbed through the digestive system, and distributed to cells throughout their bodies. The cells regenerate each time this occurs. They require feeding on what appears to be a cycle lasting somewhere between three and four standard weeks.”

  “So, if their cells are constantly regenerating, do you think they will . . . live forever? What about eternal youth? Are they always going to appear as if they are this age?”

  She nodded again, as if empathizing with the questioner.

  “These are the great unknowns. Of course, we think we will learn more given enough time and observation. As you know, the number of times human cell division occurs is limited. We call this the Hayflick phenomenon. As the length of the telemore region in human cells shortens, the cells cease dividing. When cells reach their Hayflick limit, division ceases. In effect, this means humans can live no longer than one hundred and twenty standard years.

  “But our subjects appear to suffer no such limits. Their cells’ telamore region does not get shorter with each division, and they divide often. We hypothesize the subjects will continue living until their bodies are destroyed, their heads separated from their necks or some other extraneous event resulting in preternatural death. But at the moment, based on what we know, we suspect they’ll not die from old age provided they’re able to maintain a diet of mammalian blood.”

  Another Physician’s hologram raised her hand and Kumai acknowledged her.

  “I wish to preface my question with concern for the subjects, who are present, and Professor Cruz who is a parent of one of the subjects. Please take no offense to my query.”

  We all nodded, though I couldn’t imagine what kind of question would be offensive.

  “I’m just curious, Physician Kumai, what your theoretical projections are regarding childbirth. Will their descendents be hematophagous as well?”

  Oh, I thought to myself. Yeah, I could see where someone might get offended at that line of questioning.

  “An interesting characteristic of the physiological changes the subjects have endured is, they no longer have reproductive capabilities.

  “To put it delicately. . .” She paused and glanced at us apologetically. “Their bodies no longer maintain the ancillary requirements for procreation. No sperm, in the case of the male. No ova in the case of the female. However, all other physiological functions remain intact. They live and look and act like other people. Presumably they can ‘infect’ others to make them likewise hematophagous, which could be construed as progeny of sorts. But they can’t have natural children of their own.”

  Thankfully, she stopped there. I felt my ears growing red. Dee Dee stared down at her feet, and didn’t look up for several minutes.

  At long last the conference ended. We said goodbye to Professor Cruz, sharing a few private words with him before finally leaving the Health Science Center. We walked back toward Price Faculty Hall in silence, holding hands.

  The day was sunny, and thankfully warm despite the time of year since we were near the equator. Our moods were somber, though.

  “Well,” I said, trying to lighten things. “Maybe they won’t invite us to the next one.”

  Dee Dee looked up and smiled, squeezing my hand. After a while she vocalized what was on both our minds.

  “I guess I knew I’d never have children. I mean, after Fred bit me, I had the period from hell. It must have lasted two or three weeks. I suppose my body was getting rid of all my eggs. Anyway, I haven’t had one since. So I guess, you know, I knew. It’s just . . . hearing it so matter-of-factly discussed among them was a jolt.”

  I nodded. “Sucks being a lab rat.”

  She smiled again. I took her into my arms and kissed her. She kissed back, hard.

  When we came up for air, I said, “At least we have each other.”

  -+-

  I thought about my lack of ability to have kids of my own as the semester continued. Every now and then another girl would flirt with me and try to get close. I’d let her know, one way or another, that I wasn’t interested. Mostly I was thinking about Dee Dee, staying true to her of course. But I found myself asking questions each time it happened. What kind of girl would want to marry a guy who couldn’t give her a baby? What kind of girl would like to be with a guy who didn’t age while she grew old?

  Even more to the point, what kind of girl would want to be with a guy who had to drink blood to survive? Despite all the friendliness on campus, I knew there were many who felt repulsed by our presence. And I remembered poor Peterson, my fellow Servant back on a spaceship who screamed, “Bloodsucker!” before attacking me after discovering my secret.

  Evidently, there were plenty of girls willing to overlook all those issues on campus, at least at this stage in their lives. And if the teen mags were any indication, plenty of other girls around the planet were, too. I read the “love letters” they sent to one mag that ran a cover story on me. Some of the letters left me speechless. I’m still not entirely certain they weren’t fabricated by the editors.

  Despite the surface friendliness all around us, Dee Dee and I withdrew socially even more during the spring semester. We rarely frequented parties, and generally avoided crowds.

  The penthouse suite in Price Faculty Hall helped tremendously. It proved far better than the dorm, and served as a safe haven for us. No girls or other curious onlookers. No pesky paparazzi springing cams on us for an interview with some teen mag. Just us, the triplets, Charlie and Andrea.

  -+-

  One day, Jeremy showed up with a new girl.

  We were sprawled out at the pool. Dee Dee had commented a few days earlier that Jeremy hadn’t been around much lately. We all started talking about it, and decided maybe he’d found a match.

  The girl he brought out to the pool stood tall and thin, light brown skin and eyes. High cheekbones. Very attractive. Hair down to her waist.

  “Everybody, this is Paris Parks. Paris, this is everybody.”

  We waved. She smiled. I had the maid bot fetch her a drink.

  “So, Paris,” I said, “are you a freshman, too?”

  “Oh, yes! I was able to attend after the Governor’s defenestration.”

  “The defena what?” Jason asked.

  “Defenestration. You know. Thrown out the window? Fenster is German for ‘window.’ Defenestration is just another term for ‘deposed.’”

  The conversation continued for several minutes until Jeremy took her inside for a tour of the suite.

  When they were gone, Jason said, “Good gosh! She’s even more of an intellectual than he is!”

  -+-

  The triplets and their girlfriends proved to be more social than Dee Dee and me. (It’s not ‘Dee Dee and I.’ Proper pronoun usage proved to be another pet peeve of Professor Marceau’s.)

  The boys got involved with the clubs and organizations the girls were in. (In which the girls were involved? Dang it! Forget it, she’s not grading this.)

  From time to time, they’d invite us along to a club function or party. Dee Dee said they were just trying to make us feel included. Personally, I thought the triplets just wanted somebody to help share in their misery.

  The first invitation of the semester was to go “larping” with Jacob and Andrea.

  LARP stands for “Live Action Role Play.” Several groups on campus, including one called the Society for Creative Anachronism, “fought” each other with replica weapons, engaged in treasure hunts, shared meals based on Renaissance recipes, jousted on horseback, and engaged in other such medieval revelry and amus
ements.

  Everyday Saturday morning, a group Andrea led played with bows and arrows and swords all throughout a park on campus in a game of Capture the Flag. The swords and arrows weren’t real, but they carried a walloping electric shock. Participants who got hit were stunned senseless for several seconds.

  Amazingly, otherwise bright students found this activity quite fun.

  Jacob talked me into going one Saturday morning.

  “Come on. Our group could really use some help.”

  “Jacob, I know next to nothing about swordplay or shooting bows and arrows.”

  “I didn’t either. You’ll learn fast, though. Come on, it’s lots of fun!”

  He pulled a spare costume out of his closet: some tights, pointy-toed shoes, a man-skirt, a tunic, and a floppy hat with a giant feather sticking out on top.

  I looked ridiculous in it.

  “You’ll fit right in!” he said, wearing a nearly identical outfit.

  We walked over to a park near the Administration Building, where several other students dressed in similar garb milled about testing bow strings and swinging swords. I recognized some of them as cadets who fought with us over Christmas. A flag stood planted in the clearing.

  Somebody dressed as a pirate approached us.

  “Ahoy, Sir Jacob! And I see you brought a vampyre to fight alongside us. Arrrr! Jolly good, laddies!”

  After he ran off, I whispered to Jacob, “Do we have to act the part, too?”

  “Nah. Just be cool and enjoy things. This is a lot of fun.”

  “Okay. If you say so.”

  Somebody handed us a couple of swords. Jacob showed me how to turn them on. The swords were made from carbon fiber. They were blunt, with a coil wrapped around the tip.

  “When the tip touches somebody, it delivers a huge zap. It’ll stun you, and you won’t be able to move for a while.”

  “How long?”

  “Most people are stunned for thirty seconds or so. Maybe a minute. Once you hit the ground, you’re ‘dead’ and out of action. First team to retrieve the other flag wins.”

  I swished the blade experimentally through the air a couple times.

  “Has anybody ever gotten hurt playing at this? Seems kinda dangerous.”

  He shrugged.

  “Now, watch out for the archers. The arrows are set up the same way. If one hits you, you’ll get zapped and go down.”

  “Good grief!”

  About that time, Andrea showed up. She wore a metal corset and battle blouse, a skirt that looked like it was made out of burlap, knee-high leather boots, and a long red silk cape. She had a sword strapped to her waist.

  She raised her hand and everybody stopped talking, turning their attention to her.

  “Milords and ladies! I know we’ve lost the last three battles against Martell and his minions. But this day, we shall not lose, for today we fight with the vampyre!”

  A cheer went up, and everybody turned toward me, clapping. Jacob raised my free hand up in the air, my other hand still holding the sword.

  “Archers! Stake out a perimeter around our flag! Swordsmen! I want two groups to advance toward Martell’s camp, one to the east, one to the west. I’ll go with the vampyre to the west and see if we can draw out Martell.

  “To victory!”

  Another cry went up, and people scurried into place. Guys and girls with bows strapped to their backs started climbing trees to find a perch. A group of five guys with shock swords headed off into the park, while Andrea walked over to us.

  “The vampire?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

  She smiled.

  “‘Vampyre,’ spelled the old fashioned way. I’m glad you’re here, Marc. Martell has been beating our butts every week, lately.”

  “Who’s Martell? The leader of the other group?”

  “Yes, and he’s a real jerk. Last week he kept zapping Jacob when he was down, just because he’s my boyfriend.”

  I turned to Jacob.

  “You didn’t tell me that.”

  His face blushed.

  “Yeah, well.” He shrugged. “It’s true, Martell is a jerk.”

  “Okay,” I said, turning my sword back on. “Let’s go find Martell and teach him a lesson.”

  -+-

  We ran around the woods aimlessly for a while, seeing only an occasional hint of Martell’s people before they flitted away among the trees.

  At last we heard the sound of simulated swordplay, the clashing of carbon fiber accompanied by the buzzing of electric shocks. We ran into a clearing filled with our guys fighting Martell and some of his guys.

  Andrea and Jacob ran headlong into battle, swords swinging. I held back to watch and get a better feel for things, trying to understand what I was about to get into.

  I picked out Martell right away. He was big, six foot four at least. Light brown skin and hair like most people. He was heavy, too, but he carried himself with nimble grace despite his heft. He also knew how to handle a sword.

  Most of the other students playing this game swung their swords recklessly, in broad arcs using their arms. They ran at each other full on, facing one another directly and slashing wildly. But Martell never faced an opponent head on. Instead, he turned so that only the narrowest part of his body faced an opponent. I noted that made him harder to hit.

  He was right handed, or at least he held his sword in his right hand. His left he held behind and above his head. It looked ridiculous, but it did seem to balance him out. The stance also kept his left arm from getting hit.

  Finally, I noted he didn’t slash with his arm. He controlled the sword completely with his wrist. I watched while Andrea and Jacob rushed him. He flipped aside her sword and batted her arm with his own sword.

  GZZZZT!

  She went down from the shock. He turned toward Jacob then lunged forward with his right foot, surprising Jacob and striking him in the chest.

  GZZZZT!

  Jacob went down.

  I’d seen enough. Martell obviously had formal training in swordplay. Who still fights with swords? I wondered absently. I ran up to join the battle, now mostly over with Martell as the last person standing.

  He smiled as I ran up.

  “Ah, the vampyre! Come to meet your doom?”

  Taunting the enemy to distraction, I thought. I didn’t respond, but I turned my body to face him the way he fought, holding my sword up in my right hand, left hand out and behind my head.

  His eyes grew wide as he recognized the stance. He immediately assumed the same position and approached. We circle around one another, sword tips clicking, arcs of electricity crackling between the coils.

  He lunged forward suddenly, bringing the tip of his sword toward my chest. I brushed it aside at the last second with a flick of my wrist. Suddenly I realized how advantageous controlling the sword with my wrist could be. With a minimum of movement I could direct it quickly and precisely.

  We continued circling one another. I tried a couple lunges of my own, which he batted away easily. Finally, he took a deep breath and moved in closer. A flurry of sword strokes later, he got me.

  GZZZZT!

  He grinned in triumph as I went down on one knee in pain.

  “Behold!” he shouted, raising his sword in triumph. “The vanquished Hero of Redwood! The Loser of Larp! The mighty vampyre brought to his knees by. . .”

  Then his grin faded as I stood back up and reassumed a fighting stance.

  “Don’t gloat just yet,” I said.

  He came at me in another flurry of sword strokes, this time his face masked in grim determination. He zapped me again with a thrust to my chest.

  GZZZZT!

  I knew what to expect from the shock this time, and I didn’t go down. Instead, I used his brief pause to press my own attack. My sword tip finally connected, striking him in the shoulder.

  GZZZZT!

  “Ahhhhg!”

  He crumpled in a heap, stunned. I walked over and looked down at him.

 
“I hear you like to stun people when they’re down.”

  I pressed the point of my sword against his neck.

  GZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!

  “Doesn’t feel good, does it?”

  GZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!

  “Don’t do it again. Not to Jacob, or anybody else.”

  I took a breath and looked around. I was the last person standing in the clearing. I figured we were close to Martell’s flag, so I ran off looking for it.

  For some reason, I’d been hard to stun since becoming hematophagous. Schmidt, the Agent who’d tricked me in accompanying him to a remote Agricultural Experiment Station discovered that, before I killed him in self-defense.

  While I ran around looking for the other team’s flag, I reflected that I could add strong electric shocks that stun normal people to the list of things I was somewhat impervious to. I also started thinking how ending a sentence with the word “to” would drive Professor Marceau nuts. About that time I ran into a small clearing and saw a flag planted in the ground.

  Thwip!

  GZZT!

  I looked down at the shock arrow that had bounced off my chest. I glanced up and saw two girls and a guy up in trees around the flag. They all unloosed arrows on me.

  I ran toward the flag, batting away the arrows. I grabbed the pole and pulled it from the ground and ran back out of the clearing.

  Thwip! Thwip!

  GZZT! GZZT!

  Two more arrows struck my back as I ran off. I didn’t miss a step, and kept running back toward our camp.

  -+-

  Jacob and Andrea and everybody else in the group were elated when I showed up with the flag. We went off to lunch in high spirits, still wearing our costumes.

  A couple days later as I sat near the terminal in the penthouse’s library, Jacob walked in with a glum look on his face.