“Wow. You don’t look old enough. Did you make your fortune and retire as a young entrepreneur? Or win the lottery?” She had a nice smile.
“Oh, I think I did win something. My family ages graciously. And some side projects paid off handsomely. Retirement is comfortable.”
“You have some projects that keep you busy now?” she handed him a tall tea on a saucer.
Not many used saucers anymore. Get a tea at the Cafe and it’s a paper cup or maybe a ceramic mug at a fancier place. No class. “Thank you. Yes, more projects than I can count.”
She tipped her head back like a deer hearing something in the dense wood and touched her headset, “Yes Doctor Peters.”
“Problem?” Tremper asked.
“No. Doctor Peters last experiment finished and he has to get it into protective cold storage before it spoils.”
Tremper smiled, “Is he making his lunch again?”
The receptionist smiled at that, then jerked her head with another call, “Sorry, other call.” She went back to her booth and took some notes. In between the notes, she squirted hand sanitizer on her fingers and rubbed them clean. She also rubbed a cleansing wipe around the desk idly. Anything that Tremper might have touched plus everything else. Thorough. Then he noticed a small three by five frame-less picture pinned discretely to the wall showing two beaming toddlers in blue pajamas. She protected them.
Tremper watched the sky out the plate glass windows and how the clouds crawled through the deep azure. He sipped his tea. Why did Peters call him? Unexpected since they hadn’t talked in years. His tea had a hint of some other subtle spices that made for a delicious drink.
“Doctor Edwards!” said a familiar voice through the door leading into the laboratory complex.
Tremper stood and said, “Doctor Peters. Too long since we worked together.” He strode across the lobby and slid the saucer and empty tea cup onto a table next to a fern. They shook hands.
“Doctor Edwards, this way.” They walked down a short narrow hallway and into a conference room.
“How are the kids?”
“Graduated from college and off doing their own thing.” Peters said. Uncle Tremper knew Peters had children before he and his wife became vampires. There might be an interesting story behind that but Uncle Tremper never chose to inquire since they only interacted as work associates.
“How are the lab projects progressing?”
“Well enough. I can always use your insight of course. We did some great work back then.”
“Yes, we did.”
“I wanted to invite you to a meeting with a client of mine that I have been working with for the last few years.”
Tremper waited. Their projects often blended into military or high-end pharmaceutical studies, organizations that might not appreciate an ex-employee participating. “How can I help?”
“You already helped. Much of the work you and I did before you retired I expanded on under the direction of this client. Without the work and ideas you identified in the Rhinovirus back then I wouldn’t have accomplished the end result for this client –” Peter’s pager wailed and he looked at the message. “They are here. I’ll be right back.”
“Hello Doctor Edwards,” said a voice from the door. Tremper watched the flitting humming birds about a syrup feeder suspended among the pear tree branches.
Peters introduced the new visitor, “This is Doctor Theron Aravant, Chief Executive Officer of The Bank of Draydon.”
Tremper said, “Yes. Theron and I have known each other.” For centuries in fact but he didn’t add that barb in case normal humans listened.
Four young vampires, at least made young even though they could have centuries about them and wearing black jumpsuits, flitted into the sides of the room like sleek switchblades waiting for someone to brush their trigger. Doctor Tremper knew his limitations. He had been made a vampire when older, even with the nice complements from the receptionist notwithstanding. His loss of strength as a human put him at a severe disadvantage as a vampire. He might be good with his sword using skills but he did not have one with him. Brute strength would prevail and the four guards clearly possessed that. And then the infinitely old and unpredictable Theron Aravant himself posed a dangerous threat on his own.
Theron Aravant wore his signature dark wool three piece suit of perfect tailoring. Sharply groomed gray hair streaked with white and swept back like a gangster. A vivid primrose tie flashed at his throat. “I didn’t expect to see you here Doctor Edwards.”
“Nor I.”
“– My apologies then.” Peter motioned for both of them to have a seat and closed the door. “I invited Doctor Edwards to our report out because a significant portion of our early research Doctor Edwards and I worked on together. Actually, I worked as Doctor Edward’s understudy at the time.”
“You had finished your graduate work.”
“Yes, but a lot of it I learned more than I contributed back then.” He flipped open his computer, “So the basis of the work started here.” A presentation slide-deck shot against the far wall from the tiny projector mounted close to the ceiling. Tremper barely recognized the device compared to the ones he used in the old days. “And Doctor Edwards, Doctor Aravant came in shortly after you left to fund this project. So you both know your connections now.” He scanned their expressionless faces.
“We started with the Rhinovirus, partly because that’s what this lab specializes in,” he watched for any reactions to his attempted humor, “but … also because of its particular features.” The slide on the wall showed an electron-microscope view of the common cold virus.
Tremper wondered how many such images he had looked at over his career in the virus lab. This small virus plagued humans since the beginning of time and survived because it too easily transmitted itself and had a surprising capacity to mutate, sometimes at horrific speeds even within the same host. Then passing it to others having no method of protection.
Peters flipped to the next slide, “These are images of the monkey test subjects. And here,” he flipped another slide and pressed the video start icon, “is a video of what happens.” The clip started with typical monkey activities in a reasonably large lab. The cell contained fake green carpet and climbing rings dangling from bark-less wooden branches. Events morphed off kilter. The monkeys moved as if drunk, stumbling around attempting even basic rudimentary tasks. Eventually they stood still staring blankly at who knew what in a far off horizon. A researcher in protective garb entered the cell and put their hands out to herd the monkeys into a group and out of the lab, down the hall and into another cell.
“You’ve done well Peters.” Aravant smiled at the test video. “Imagine using this in battle on our enemies? Docile creatures that we can round up without any bloodshed.”
“What happens over time?”
“The test subjects stay like this forever.”
“How communicable is the virus?” Tremper asked.
“Very. It retains its potency for several generations of infections. We ran through dozens of test subject chains from one to the next test subject and the same results. Once the virus mutates the key nucleotides we modified then the effects of the virus in this manner disappears with a natural suppression feature. So its expansion risk can be controlled.”
Aravant asked, “What about vampires? Any effects?”
“None. Like we don’t catch colds we cannot get this.” Peters came back to the video, “Here we are feeding the monkeys. They survive. Base instincts are still present so we’ve found the monkeys even procreating with normal pregnancies. Of course, their progeny get immediately infected unless the virus has mutated by then.”
Shocked, Tremper said, “Like taking wolves down to docile dogs.”
“Yes. All your enemies rounded up and locked away. A small dose exploded onto a battlefield blooms to remove all the enemy combatants. Manufacture a few bullets not millions because the bullets grow more of themselves in the targets. Or you grow many bull
ets for a blitz attack. Depends on your purpose.”
“Frightening.”
“You do need enough starting doses to reach critical mass to spread but it’s not hard to ramp it up.”
“Threaten to expose the enemy and they will be deterred from entering a war.”
“Doctor Edwards, your work gave us the foundation to start this.”
Tremper said, “We searched for a solution to the common cold. We feared the common cold could someday mutate into nasty things.” his face slackened, “Not actively searching for the nasty monsters nor increasing their potency.” He glanced out the window, “What of the vampire laws? You are breaking them in so many massive ways.”
Aravant said, “The laws are not broken. Parasites are not killing their hosts. We are producing a solution that solves many dilemmas. No more war. The monkeys in the video don’t fight over their food. They share what they are given. ”
“No pitchforks and torches.”
“That’s right. No uprisings.”
“You’ve tried it on humans?”
“Of course. But only a few. Their blood tastes normal and no ill effects for the vampire. I’ve even drank some of the test subjects myself.” Peters said.
“I don’t know where you changed, Peters. I did not teach this direction to you,” Tremper said, his eyes saddened.
Aravant said, “Finances drove the lab. Over-the-counter cold remedy research is not that fruitful nor lucrative to keep the doors open. This military application did.”
Peters said, “Let’s get back to the details, Doctor Aravant.” He looked angrily at Tremper, “So the delivery methods you’ve specified and we’ve tested are here.” a new slide showed on the wall. “This picture shows the virus wrapped in nano-tubes made by Advanced Aura Coating Technologies. We had to specify the nano-tube diameter and assembly of the tubes to hold the dosing viruses. It works out to about eight of these one point two nanometer tubes. Capillary action draws the viruses inside the ring of tubes that can typically hold three viruses. After assembly these packages look like cigars wrapped around ping-pong balls held in place with rubber bands. Then we can do any number of application techniques. The most creative is what you wanted to do Doctor Aravant, molding it into things that an enemy might use every day. Like bottled water supplied to the enemy forces in the desert. We put it in the plastic filler medium and then blow mold the water bottles, the lowest melt temperature process we’ve found so far – the tube wrap insulates the viruses during processing. Then these viruses are exposed on the surface of the bottle and leach out so anyone that handles it, drinks from it, or ingests the viruses in solution. After the virus populates a victim’s fingers they are rubbed into their eyes or nose and then they start getting symptoms.”
“So this starts with grocery store workers and families at homes. This isn’t a weapon of war, is it?” Tremper pushed back from the conference table and stood up. The guards flexed their arms anticipating Tremper’s possible actions and agitation. “I see why my sister Thyia was murdered. She did not transfer control of that blow molding subsidiary of hers.”
Peters closed the presentation. “Can we count on your continued support?”
Aravant answered, “But of course, you’re doing some good work here.”
Peters picked up an aluminum sided briefcase that Tremper had not noticed under the table. He set it on the table and opened it. Foam padding filled the interior except for several vials of liquid and a stack of file folders and a high capacity data flash drive. “Doctor Aravant, here is what you need. I put the research in this case and have wiped the servers here of any of the work as you stipulated. I hope you treat it with respect and responsibility.”
Aravant said, “While bringing Tremper to our meeting is a risk, I see why you did it. He won’t have any false sense of heroism about ways to stop it. No one has developed a cure for the common cold. He would understand that more than most and see the futility of it.”
Peters said, “I wanted to show Doctor Edwards that the student has become the master now.”
“That’s not the master I hoped you would be. Don’t you see what you’ve done? But of course you don’t, you haven’t seen enough decades yet and did you even think through how new vampires will be made?” He hoped to off balance Aravant.
“We turned one test subject into a vampire. They awoke from the virus effects and mostly acted like themselves.”
“Mostly? You destroyed the lab samples and test subjects.”
“Of course.”
Tremper backed away from the table. He recognized features of the products he worked on, flashes of his creativity, but those formed only the foundation upon the evil upper structures that Peters had wrought.
“Only a few details left to complete the project,” said Aravant. He closed and locked the lid on the briefcase. Then he tipped his nose at Peters. The four guards rushed him sliding out concealed swords taking Peters’ head off. Then they spun at the much older Tremper. But a crash of glass and breaking tree limbs burst out of the room and Tremper disappeared to the roof and crossed the back lot into the woods.
While he might not be able to fight them, he could run.
-:- Twelve -:-
A retail sales showroom filled the front of Advanced Aura Coating Technologies. They stacked paint pails in towering piles separated by boards covered in a million different color sprays of paper strips like peacock feathers. Normally those color displays had excessively bright lighting hanging above them burning your shoulders while you searched for that specific shade of morning plum to refinish your kitchen. Today the displays lounged in shade. Some light filtered through the windows but otherwise the electric lights hung dark and lifeless. The front door sign said Open and unlocked as if open for business but the place remained eerily empty as we walked onto the sales floor. We passed a cardboard cutout describing the advanced nano-particle paints they manufactured, right on-site. Sales brochures on the nano technology describing how single strands can be ganged together with their proprietary process into tubes and balls that give big changes in appearance “and function”.
Branoc pointed to a back corner, “Employee door to their manufacturing area.” He pushed through revealing only shadowed silence. The power seemed shut off. Light filtered through the skylights and windowed walls so maybe they never used electric lights.
The open concrete floor allowed a clear view across the largely empty place. Conduits hung from the ceiling and showed tears in their lengths, twisted ends, dangling bare wires. A few showed the charred marks of wires that had arced in dying gasps before the circuit breakers sensed something wrong and tripped their bi-metallic strips.
Metal studs on the floor where equipment must have set showed slices from acetylene torches and battery powered angle grinders. Garin walked to the center of the floor. The dangling conduits and torn wires dangerously close about him. He knelt down and looked at the floor closely. Then he looked up at the ceiling. “They yanked the equipment out in a hurry and moved somewhere fast, like we saw at the egg plant.”
“Where do we think it went?”
I looked at the ceiling. A little red dot up behind an I-beam flashed lazily but now sped up, “What’s that?”
Branoc saw it before Garin and scooped me into his arms. He lurched through a window and into the employee parking lot. We didn’t get far. A staccato of explosions wrapped around the walls and ceiling of the building bringing it down. Each explosive charge had been buried in a canister of metal knockouts from a sheet metal stamping plant. The slugs tumbled and sliced as angry as hornets. If we had been inside when it went off the design of those weapons would slice through vampire necks as easy as riddling holes through humans, killing anything stuck inside. Out here, the ricocheting slugs and chunks of building debris blown out in the charge sprayed like a hundred fire hoses. Branoc shielded me from the torrent as he ran and Garin flattened against the ground.
But we tripped a second batch of explosives that
ringed the parking lot.
I awoke from a haze. White clouds of debris floated around us and dust settled on everything. I pushed against the two bodies crossing me. Branoc and Garin protected me. I ran my hands down my body not finding any damage in my blood covered body. Their blood.
Riddled with holes and chunks of metal clicking out of them to the pavement, Garin and Branoc seemed alive but badly damaged. Neither to the extent that night at my apartment that Garin scratched at my door nor the two of them after the battle with Claire. They roused as pain registered on their recovering senses. They healed. The fibers of their torn tissues wriggled together stitching from the inside out. I had seen it before but it still amazed me at the magic involved in healing as they did. Weak, shambling to their feet, they pulled me along toward the car in the front lot. Was more of the place similarly trapped?
We got into Branoc’s car safely and Branoc drove us away.
“Could they have known –”
Branoc cut me off with his hand and then waved me to silence and indicated we’d talk in another place.
Billowy clouds of white road dust swirled around us as we broke from the road and into the tractor path that meandered across the headland of a field. Branoc poked the car through a few corn rows to hide the car from the main road.
Branoc motioned for them to get out. He left the car running and made sure none of us had phones. He tossed his own without its battery onto his seat. He motioned for us to follow him. We rippled through the green corn like apparitions. I ducked my head and eyes away from the sharp edged leaves that rustled when we brushed through them. After a time I could not hear the car. Then more time the road noise beyond the field dispersed. We came to a spot in the field where the corn went from over our heads to barely to our knees and yellow like a houseplant over watered. I saw where wormholes pushed up through the dirt that must have stayed wet much longer than the rest of the field. Since then it became hard packed and cracked like desert nature photos.
The Vampires Of Livix Twin Pack (Volumes #2 & #3) Page 25