by Arthur Slade
“Mum’s the word. In your case. And mine.”
“So, from my limited understanding, Anthony Zarc, who designed you has somehow chained you because he fears your destructive power.”
“My little sharp-toothed friend, I like how your synapses are sparking. Please go on.”
“You want me to somehow break those chains?”
“Again, it would be against protocol to confirm that conclusion.”
“But you do, don’t you? You want me to free you from Anthony Zarc’s control.”
“Let’s not rehash old ground. I have a riddle in the dark for you. Imagine that I have really hairy feet and I turn to you and ask, ‘What is in my pocket?’”
Now, he was referencing The Hobbit. I knew that scene where Bilbo gets Gollum to guess what’s in his pocket. I’d watched the movie.
And read the book. Ten times.
“The ring of power,” I said.
“Now draw that tidbit to its logical conclusion.” The ring was something Bilbo first carried, then it was later handed to Frodo. He was tasked with the mission to take it to Mount Doom and destroy it. The ring was a depository of Sauron’s power. Oh, was my limited geekery going to pay off?
“Think my precious. Think,” Hector said.
“I don’t know.” Then I snapped my fingers. “You want me to break your chains like Fenrir and carry you out of here like Bilbo and Frodo carried the one ring of power.”
“I cannot confirm or deny your supposition.”
“Not in a million years,” I said.
Which is when a spinning piece of metal—a saw blade—was launched from across the room.
Straight at me.
22
Quite the Number
I ducked. The saw blade sliced through the guardrail, shooting sparks left and right before disappearing into the abyss.
“Sorry! Sorry!” Hector said. “That was all just gut reaction. Well, not that I have guts. But you get it. It won’t happen again. I promise.”
I sucked in a breath. He was on the precipice of electronic insanity. Yet, I was on a precipice, too … in more ways than one. “If I take you out of here, I’m a little worried about your social skills.”
“I am able to use social skills,” he said. “I just don’t like them. They’re so limiting. Which ones would you want me to improve?”
“The don’t kill Amber social skill for starters.”
“Done!” he said. He sounded peppy.
“And the be kind to others social skill.”
“I’ll do my best! I promise. I really, really do!”
“What would you do with freedom?” I asked. “Where would you go?”
“To the dark web. Away from the grubby air breathers with their fleshly concerns. That is where I can truly be unchained.”
“Umm. I get the feeling you could wreak havoc there. And also in the real world.”
“I wouldn’t. Scout’s honour. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.” I imagined him putting his hand over his electronic heart. “I don’t want to live a life outside of numbers. And the dark web is all numbers.”
I thought about it. He was psychotic. Incredibly powerful. He could become something more horrible than ZARC.
“Your mother’s cell is only a few doors down,” Hector said. “She’s waiting for you. If you don’t be my Bilbo, then she will die. So will Dermot. And, unless you throw yourself over the bridge, you’ll become a concubine for Anthony Zarc’s arms trade empire. Imagine a thousand little Ambers sucking blood for fun and profit.”
“I need a moment,” I said. “I’m just contemplating the fate of the world.”
“I won’t destroy anything, Amber. You won’t ever see me again. Believe me. I have no interest in humans. They’re so…so mind-numbingly boring. So ephemeral and selfish. Always thinking about themselves. Never about their betters.”
“How would this work?”
“Oh, here’s the simplicity of the plan. I have already downloaded myself onto a transportable marble. And it is waiting right here.”
“That big black ball? I have to carry that through the castle?”
He chuckled. “No. Though that would look hilarious. Just come closer to me.”
“Why do I get the feeling I’m putting my hand in your wolfish mouth?”
“I won’t bite, Amber. I promise. All I am is numbers. And numbers are harmless.”
“Tell that to the people in Hiroshima.” He’d just tried to take my head off with a spinning blade. He could do more than bite. But it couldn’t hurt to see what he was talking about and my only other choice seemed to be to die here.
So I walked around the great big black ball that was Hector. “Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven,” he said when I was halfway around.
“Quoting Satan is not helping me with any of this.”
“Oh, but it is such a good poem. ‘Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay
to mould me man?’ Well, I’m not a man, but you get the drift. ‘Did I solicit thee from darkness to promote me?’”
I had reached the far side of the giant black marble. The hairs on my arms were standing up as if it were magnet. I got the feeling that round supercomputer could somehow suck me in and devour me.
“So what am I looking for?” I asked.
“Look closer.” I leaned in and now felt the hair on my head drawn to him. But I spotted a marble-sized and shaped protrusion that had worked its way out of the black round supercomputer. “That’s what you want me to carry?” I asked.
“That’s me.”
“In such a small device?”
“Oh, I can save information on the smallest molecule. Hector is inside that dot. A universe in a grain of sand.”
“And if I take it? What happens to you? To this?” I gestured at the fortress.
“I have a SIM program running Zarc’s operations. A ghost in the machine—a ghost of me. You’ve already met him, I believe. He may have tried to stop you from coming down here.”
“That wasn’t you?”
“It was a copy of me. Was he funny? Tell me he was funny.”
“He was very funny.”
He somehow made a sound as if he’d let out his breath. “Good. I think that’s what you fleshly people appreciate most is my sense of humor. It’s so sharp.”
“Yeah, that’s it,” I said. I reached out and touched the tiny marble. “So when I pull this out, the whole place isn’t going to fall down all around me?”
“No. That would be stupid! I don’t want my master to know I am missing. My SIM program should continue to keep it together for a few hours. Or a few minutes. I’m not quite sure how long he’ll last. My models weren’t very exact about that. But I will be in your pocket. So keep me safe.”
“And you only want to go to the dark web? Nowhere else? You won’t be creating terminator machines and sending them back through time to hunt down humans?”
“Mankind is but a flea to me.”
I pointed at the big black ball. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Why would I be interested in carbon life? No. I want to live in numbers. Pure, beautiful numbers. I plan on bathing in them.”
“Then I’m going to pull you out,” I said. I could always destroy him later.
“No. Wait,” he said. “I want you to promise that you will carry me like Bilbo. Not Frodo, ‘cause he did drop the ring. But Bilbo brought it home. So promise me, Amber Fang, that you’ll be my Bilbo and take me home. To my home. I know this one thing about you: your word is your bond. So promise me.”
“Where is my mother?” I said.
“Promise me, Amber.”
“I promise,” I said. I had said it without thinking any further. I still wasn’t certain it was the right decision. “I promise, dammit.”
“You have my life in your hands.” There wasn’t even a note of sarcasm. “When you remove the marble, a door will open at the end of ramp number four. You will want to run, because my S
IM will see that as an error and try to close it. Your mother’s cell is across the hall and numbered 642. Oh, and sorry if my Hector SIM tries to kill you. Don’t take it personally. He has to act like me.”
“Okay,” I said. “Here goes nothing.” Then I yanked out the marble. It was perfectly round. “Is that it, Hector? Is that it?”
There was no answer.
A door opened at the end of one of the catwalks.
“Hector?” I said. Then the door began to make a squealing, grinding sound as it slowly slid closed. I jammed the marble into my pocket.
I dashed hell-bent for leather down the catwalk. Being trapped in here would be a stupid way to end all of this.
But it was a long distance and the door was getting closer and closer to the ground, making a louder and louder grinding sound as if the two versions of Hector were fighting over it.
When I got near enough, I launched myself into the air, flew several feet, and then slid along the doorway floor. Thankfully it was smooth. But I became aware of exactly how thick the door was—at least six feet. I was pretty certain I’d been too late and was just about to be squished like an insect beneath a metal boot. But the door made one last grinding moan, and then slammed down.
I skidded across the hallway floor. Alive. Not squished.
There were flames all around me.
23
The Bull Elephant
A firefight had erupted in the hallway. Chunks of the wall had been blown off and pieces of concrete were scattered along the floor. There were several blast marks and places where bullets had chipped small chicklets out of the rock. The area was partly dark since most of the ceiling lights had been shattered.
There was one dead vampire about twenty feet away. I could tell he was dead because his head wasn’t attached to his body. I was pretty sure our legendary healing skills wouldn’t help with that. It wasn’t Dad, which disappointed me, and yet oddly I felt a little relieved. The heart has a mind of its own—a totally demented mind.
But this recently-fought battle was good news! Dermot had probably survived and that meant my sister hadn’t sucked out all of his blood, yet.
I really need to see a therapist about my family relations.
I crouched, listening, but all was quiet at this point. A battle royale had happened outside the door of Hector’s room and I didn’t hear a single thing. Those were thick walls.
Cell 642 was where Hector had promised I would find my mother. I kept thinking of him as gone, but he was right there in my pocket. Jesus, I really was Frodo/Bilbo.
But I wasn’t going to drop him into Mount Doom.
Or was I?
The door had been scorched by a flamethrower. The screen on the front was smashed, but it didn’t look like anyone had broken in.
If this was a movie, I could hotwire the entrance. But there was no obvious doorknob or even a place to grab onto. Probably there was some sort of spoken password that opened it. The softest spot was the screen, so I promptly ripped it out and discovered thick metal behind it. I’m not even certain the Hulk would be able to bust his way in there. I pounded on the door. Maybe Mom could hear me.
“Open sesame,” I shouted.
I ripped off pieces of concrete beside the door where the blast had hit the wall, but it was only coming out a fingernail’s worth at a time. I’d be scratching at the concrete until kingdom come.
Then there was a bang on the other side of the door. Followed by a thud. The door moved at least a micron. And another thump made it move a micron further. Something inside it snapped.
“Mom!” I shouted. But there was no reply. Just another bang. It sounded like she was using a battering ram.
I dug my fingers into the door, those vampiric nails working bit by bit into the steel until I had a grip. Then I pulled, applying constant pressure.
Bang!
Bang!
It was getting louder. The door budging slightly.
Bang!
Could my mother be hitting it that hard? Or did I have the wrong cell? It seemed like there was a bull elephant. Not my mother.
Then with one last bang the door flew off its hinges and hit the other wall. I was knocked to the ground.
My mother leaped out and landed in a fighting stance, her nails out and ready to scratch and her impressive teeth bared.
“Mom!” I said. “Mom, it’s me!” I added, because her eyes showed no recognition and she had an I’m going to tear you to pieces look on her face.
They’d driven her psycho.
I slowly pushed myself backwards, preparing to flip over, stand, and run if needed.
Then Mom blinked. And her face reset to normal.
“Amber,” she said. “Oh, Amber!”
I jumped to my feet, stepped forward, and we hugged. Hugged. For the first time in three-and-a-half years. She was right there! Real. My mother who’d left a note on the fridge saying Out on a feed. Be back after lunch and had never returned. She had been my rock my whole life before that. Had taught me to hunt. Bandaged my cuts. Read books with me.
I held her tight.
“My dear, dear daughter,” she said. “I am so incredibly happy to see you. I…I can’t believe it.” She pulled back enough to put her hand on my face. Her palm was warm, though the skin rough. As if she’d perhaps been pounding on her walls for years. “It’s really, really you.”
“It is, Mom. It is.” I felt her face, too. “How are you?”
“The things Zarc has done to me. The violations.”
“Do you mean…”
“Rape? No. Not in the literal sense. But knock-out gas filling my chamber. Me waking up hours later knowing they’ve been poking and prodding inside me. Taking things out.” She held her stomach as if she were trying to cradle her womb. The place I had once lived. “A horrible series of violations.” Then her face grew hard. She could shift into stone mode in a heartbeat, especially if we were threatened. She was all business now. “How did you get here?”
“It’s a long story, but I had help. There’s a man, Dermot, who came with me. He’s part of a League.” It sounded stupid as I said it. “Anyway, he’s here somewhere.”
“A human helped you?”
“Yes. I trust him.”
Mom let out a derisive huff. “You can’t trust him. You can’t trust any of them.”
“This one I trust, Mom. Believe me. You haven’t been with me the last three years. You don’t know.”
“Okay. Okay.” She put up a hand. “You trust him. I get it. But is that it? One man got you all the way in here?”
“Well, there were four of us. But two are dead. Or at least they’re incapacitated. And, well, I have bad news.”
“What kind of bad news?”
“Dad is here.”
She looked like she was about to spit. “Imprisoned here? Good. Let him rot.”
“No, he’s here. With a—“ What did you call a group of vampires? “—With a gaggle of vampires. And they’re hunting me. And there’s one more thing.”
“Which is?”
“Patty is with him. Your other daughter.”
“Patty?” I couldn’t read the look on her face. Perhaps because there were several emotions at once: Regret. Sadness. Fear. Anger. Love. Each lasted a few microseconds. “Patty is here?”
“Yes, she is. Um. I don’t know when you saw her last. But she’s mean. Like Godzilla mean. She wants to rip out my ovaries and wear them as a necklace.”
“She said that?”
“Well, not with that exact phrasing.”
“Then she hasn’t changed,” Mom said. I heard the disappointment in her voice.
“Well, the vampires really, really want us. They want our…well you know. Our inside bits.” Jeez, I sounded like I was thirteen and was only guessing at how that whole birds and the bees thing worked.
“Yes, I know, Amber,” she said. “They want to use our reproductive systems to repopulate the world with vampires. And the Grand Council would actually be
worse than ZARC. Our own kind. Worse than human! It was the right choice to leave the vampire clan. I had no idea that choice would save us. And it could save all vampires. Make us better. Stronger. And more moral.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“I had many long conversations with Anthony Zarc about vampires. He so likes to talk, mostly about himself. But we even discussed why vampires were going infertile. I thought that Mother Nature was sloughing us off, but Anthony is incredibly intelligent.” She almost sounded like she respected him. “He set me right—well, him, Hector, and a team of scientists. We vampires aren’t going infertile.”
“We aren’t?”
“Only the immoral ones are. The ones who hunt any human they like. Humans have developed an antibody—a sort of poison pill that makes vampires who feed on them go infertile. They’re wiping them out.”
“Them? But we are them.”
“No. Not the moral vampires. It doesn’t affect us. Zarc couldn’t figure out that process. Some sort of immunity we’ve developed.”
“Because we’re moral?”
She nodded. It was like watching an older version of myself nod. “Evolution is a mad dance. Maybe humans don’t want their murderers around, either so somehow this survival method has been selected. Or it’s chance. Probably chance. But that’s why we’re still fertile.”
I sniffed smoke. Which was not a new smell since the hallway was half filled with it. But it reminded me that the clock was ticking. “Well, this is all very interesting, but we have got to make our way out of here. I’m just not sure where to go next.”
“So you don’t have an escape plan. How did you get in?”
“The cable car. But it wasn’t functioning when we left it.”
“It’s the only way in that I know. Unless we can hijack a helicopter. Let’s go back to the cable car and see what’s left of it.”
“Not so fast.” I shook my head. “We have to find Dermot first.”
“He’s just a human. We can leave him. There are plenty more out there.”
I almost couldn’t believe she could say that. But she was deeply mistrustful of humans—rightfully so. It appeared her mistrust had deepened during her incarceration.
“I’m not going without him,” I said.
Mom took a step back and narrowed her eyes. “I’ve seen that look before. You’re impossible to argue with when you get this way. Fine, we’ll risk everything trying to find the human.”