Nidor looked at him in silence, and it was obvious that he was boiling inside. Finally, he pulled himself together.
“Two by the cell constantly,” he ordered, pointing to the first two nighters. “The rest in the monitoring center. Switch every two hours.” He paused for a moment, then added, “If this fuck peeps a single word about the lord...” He broke off, obviously having difficulty controlling his temper again.
“Chill, Nidor, we know what to do then,” one of them said calmly. “He will be cured of those ideas pretty quickly.”
The captain nodded.
“Vesper... upstairs with me,” he said, much calmer. “You, kid, have had enough for today. Now you will help with preparations for the lord’s visit.”
Vesper nodded, swallowing and staring obediently at the captain. He really wanted to turn around and look at Attagen again, but he controlled himself and didn’t even glance at him.
“Get moving!” Nidor ordered, and hurried to the exit.
Vesper rushed after him without a word.
Save yourself, brother! the renegade’s thought reached him. Get out of here, to our people, before you get as enslaved as these dogs here... debased like they are. Save yourself!
Mirror, Vesper thought forcefully. Mirror.
And he didn’t looked back once.
***
They covered the windows with heavy steel shutters and, even though the sun was glaring mercilessly from the sky, they worked all day. They cleaned the rooms, washed uniforms, and cleaned their weapons. After a while, everything in sight nearly shone, and they began to joke with a little nervousness that maybe it would be good to paint the grass green.
The major thrashed around the base, checking any detail that came to his mind. He quizzed anyone he met on proper procedures in an unpleasant, slightly hysterical way. Then he locked himself away and checked stacks of paperwork, calling every one of the captains now and then.
A somber mood, saturated with uncertainty, reigned at the base. Nighters wandered about the corridors a little bit more, inspected details, exchanging pessimistic notes that the most important details would come out only in the wash. Finally, exhausted, they dispersed into their rooms.
***
Vesper opened his eyes, as a soft knock on the door woke him from sleep.
“Come in!” he said loudly.
Nidor walked into the room with a very tired look on his face.
“The lord will be here tomorrow,” he said slowly. “In the early evening.”
Vesper sat on the bed, rubbing stinging eyes with his fingers. He looked at the tense, anxious face of his superior.
“You want to talk to me about something,” he said smartly. “Have a seat.” He waved toward the chair, and then the minibar. “Help yourself... to whatever you want. There isn’t much choice, anyway.” He smiled lightly. “All artificial, I mean.”
“How do you feel, kid?” the other vampire asked, sitting in the chair and tilting his head back. “Hmm?”
“I have a broken rib,” Vesper said calmly. “It’ll be fine, by tomorrow there will be no trace. Lord Ultor will find me ready for combat.”
“You know what I mean,” Nidor said softly, lifting his head and staring at his colleague carefully. “You know exactly what I mean.”
Vesper closed his eyes. He opened them after a moment, and nodded slowly. Nidor knows everything anyway... so whatever happens, happens.
“It’s hard,” he confessed simply. “It's damn hard. I'm hungry, there’s no denying that.”
“I can imagine,” Nidor said. “It happens to each of us. It will hold up more sometimes, then it will let up, and on and on. When I was young, they had to lock me in the bunker, because I raged out of hunger. Then I got over it. But you're acting different. Like you weren’t hungry at all... Or quite opposite, like you suffer with it the whole time.”
“I don’t get that wave,” Vesper nodded. “Yes it's true. It has a hold on me all the time. It doesn’t let up, even for a moment.”
Nidor nodded. It was obvious he fought with some issue that didn’t want to pass his lips.
“Forgive me, I have to ask,” he choked out finally. “Did you, there... you know... did you try? You put your hand to your mouth...”
Vesper closed his eyes again. He remembered that moment, horrible and wonderful at the same time, the scent of fresh, blood, bursting with adrenaline. And this overwhelming longing, which awoke then and didn’t want to leave, no matter what.
“I didn’t try it, Nidor,” he whispered in anguish. “Word of honor that I didn’t.”
The captain looked at him, relief clearly visible in his face.
“That’s good, dude,” he said. “That’s very good.”
“Bullshit, it’s not very good!” Vesper blew up suddenly. “That renegade down there saw right through me. He said I was one of them. That it was only a matter of time until I betray you...” His throat itched treacherously, so he cleared it. “’When I wake up’, he said. ‘Just as I once woke up from that other life. And that someday I’ll do it again. I'll become a real predator and I won’t come back from it. Because I won’t know how, or want to.’”
“Well, what did you say?” Nidor asked in a strange voice. “What are you going to do about it?”
“I'll go to see the lord tomorrow,” the lieutenant said, wiping his eyes with a sudden movement. “I'll ask him to find some time and look at me again like before. Because maybe he made a mistake, and I’m not good enough to be a nighter. Or I got broken along the way.”
“What if that's what Ultor says?” His colleague asked quietly. “Then what?”
“I'll ask him to kill me again,” Vesper whispered in reply. “But without any extras this time.”
Nidor lowered his head. A heavy, depressing silence reigned on.
“Yes... something needs to be done,” the captain confirmed with clear difficulty. “Sorry, kid, I won’t bullshit you that everything is fine and there is no problem. There is a problem, and a big one too. We all realize that. You know why you stayed with me, even after the mission.”
“Yes, I know.” Vesper closed his eyes. “You’re watching me all the time.”
“I’m responsible for everything,” Nidor said suddenly. “I set up the mission so naively, so carelessly... I didn’t expect a renegade there. I thought that this case was a trifle one. Oh, just small illegal blood dealership. Instead, it turned out that we stepped something much bigger.” He sighed heavily. “I should have realized immediately when the feeler showed up. How would a petty dealer get a feeler, if not from renegades... or worse, from the Vatican? But I wanted to end the matter as soon as possible, to christen you in battle and get it all over with.”
“And pass me down to some lieutenant... let him bother with the kid?” Vesper said bitterly.
Nidor nodded. “Yes,” he admitted with shame. “I had so much on my mind, and they stuck me with you on top of it. I mean, you were promising; I didn’t have much of a problem with you. But you know, there’s always work with a newbie.”
“Yes.” Vesper opened his eyes. “I know how it is. Make sure the bastard doesn’t fall from the roof.” He smiled slightly. “And that he doesn’t stay out in the sun too often.”
“I screwed it up,” Nidor said, not reacting at all to Vesper’s grins. “I should have called the reinforcements in much earlier, and not tried to play the hero. Then suddenly, the renegade held them all up, and it was a miracle they held him in. And you had to go with me and clean up all that mess. I fucked you over, kid. No one but me.”
“Well, you made a mistake,” Vesper said simply. “It happens to everyone.”
“But you’re the one paying for that mistake!” Nidor clenched his fists in helpless anger. “And there's nothing I can’t do about it, nothing.”
They were both silent for a moment.
“Listen, I'll go with you to the lord,” the captain decided unexpectedly. “If it’s bad, I’ll ask him to spare you, and let
me watch you. Worst that can happen is you’ll have me on your tail till end of your days, though. Anyway, it will pass eventually. Nothing lasts forever, not even the biggest hunger.”
“You’ll be able to guard me?” Vesper said sharply. “You're that good? Are you sure?”
“Even if I’m not... then I WILL get that good,” Nidor said powerfully. “You’ll see. For you, I will be the best.”
He got up from his chair, walked over to the bed, sat next to his friend, and patted him on the back.
“It'll be okay,” he stated. “You’ll see. The two of us will manage.” His voice didn’t sound completely certain, however.
“I don’t know what to say,” Vesper whispered, hanging his head and hiding his face in his hands. “I'm all scared, I can’t hide that,” he began to speak rapidly, incoherently. “The renegade’s words ring in my head, and sometimes I think he was right. Some part of me bought these arguments. I've already betrayed you, at least a little, and I cannot give you any guarantee...”
“Stop it,” Nidor said grimly. “Each one of us has wondered many times whether the renegades are right. But for now, we all pull the same cart. And so far nobody has changed his mind. And you having doubts, well... that’s normal. I have them to, sometimes.”
Vesper lowered his hands, looking at him with hope.
“It seems that either way, we’re stuck with each other,” he said. “All in all, I’m glad that it fell on you, Nidor.” He smiled faintly.
“Me too,” Nidor said seriously. “Me too.”
He left, gently closing the door behind him.
Vesper fell back on his pillow, and stared up at the ceiling, like could find answers to the questions tormenting him. Instead, the renegade’s challenging gaze loomed before his eyes. And then Lord Ultor’s serious, solemn face took its place.
He fell asleep almost immediately, as if the thought of Ultor gave him hope and new strength. And this time, he didn’t have any of those dreams dripping with fresh, scented blood.
***
The next day, they stood on the blacktop in an even double row of black-clad bodies, and watched as Bell 412 EP approached landing, flashing its lights. The rotor blades whipped the air with a whoosh; it was the loudest sound that reached their ears. The silenced engine worked, as if it wasn’t a medium-sized helicopter, but only a model hovering over the nighter base in Emów.
“Squad... attention!” The major commanded. “The Lord Warrior arrives.”
They straightened up immediately, clicked their heels together, and pinned their rifles to their chests. They stared intently at the helicopter suspended just above the ground.
The pilot was an expert.
He sat the machine down quickly and deftly, without the slightest wobble. The engine died away, the blades circled slower and slower until they stopped completely.
All present held their breath. The hold’s door opened, and a tall figure in a long black coat appeared before them.
“Salvete, fratres!” the awaited voice sounded in their heads.
“Salve, Domine!” They exclaimed unanimously, saluting.
Lord Ultor came out of the machine, looking around. His praetorians spilled out after him.
The major and the captains immediately rushed to the newcomers. They stopped in front of the lord, at attention, in a stance full of respect.
“At ease,” Ultor said. “Let's go inside, gentlemen.”
They nodded obediently, heading toward the building immediately. The lord walked among them, with the major at his right side. He gazed carefully over the nighters standing straight as stings, smiling gently. It was obvious he remembered every one.
Vesper waited for his turn, his heart pounding insanely, his mouth suddenly dry as a bone. Finally, Ultor greeted him with his eyes, and that moment shone with sudden emotion for the young nighter, incomparable to anything he’d ever felt before. He swallowed. Lord Ultor laughed a little, then went on, sending another greeting. The praetorians followed him step by step, also greeting friends with short nods.
Finally, the newcomers entered the building. Nidor stopped on the threshold, turned, and shouted a brisk, “At ease, dismissed!” before following the guests inside, probably heading straight to the major’s office.
The nighters breathed a sigh of relief, then as one man walked into the meeting room. There, they pulled out of the refrigerated bags of cultured blood and began to suck quickly, not worrying about pouring it into glasses.
Ultor killed each one of us, thought Vesper, lifting the bag of blood to his lips. Each here is his work, his gift, his Awakening...
“It’s as if you met the Creator,” Alacer said loudly, shaking his head in ecstasy. “Fuck me, just like that...”
The praetorians walked in. Apparently the lord had sent them away, feeling completely safe in nighters’ base.
“Hey, guys, will you share?” one of them said lightly, looking in the bar’s direction. “The trip was hard, I’ll admit. The old man was in such a hurry... like damn, and the pilot squeezed the machine for what’s it worth. Two hundred and twenty miles per hour... It was a little turbulent along the way.”
The nighters looked at him, and some of the faces brightened with smiles immediately.
“Celer!” said a dozen votes.
He was quickly surrounded by all. Old friends began to greet him, pat on the shoulders. Younger nighters, who didn’t know the colleague, formed a second circle, held back by intimidation. Several of them rushed toward the bar and began to fill the glasses.
“How is it walking with the lord, tell us?!” one nighter asked, starting the shower of questions.
“Oy, let’s show a bit of culture!” Celer corrected his friends, looking pointedly at the other praetorians, standing at the door with slightly hesitant, but polite smiles. “Maybe let's take care of the guests first, right? And let’s be polite, because the redneck is coming out of us.”
“Sure, sure!” nighters nodded eagerly. “Salvete, fratres! Venite...”
“English is highly appreciated,” said one of the praetorians, still smiling politely. “Latin is for official use only...” He winked conspiratorially.
“Of course,” the nighters nodded. “English is much better, definitely.”
Thank goodness, Vesper thought with relief. I can manage English. If I had to glue sentences together in Latin, I wouldn’t find out how it was to be around the boss.
Apparently, his opinion was shared by all present, because the atmosphere relaxed in the blink of an eye. The praetorians were brought to the central, honorary table and seated on the sofas. Soon they were handed tall glasses filled with red fluid. The nighters pulled up armchairs and sofas to sit around. There was a tense moment of silence charged with expectations.
“So tell us, please,” Alacer finally started, burning with impatience. “What is he like?”
The praetorians looked at each other, exchanging knowing smiles. They probably went through the same thing at every base, and had a standard set of stories to entertain the crowd at hand.
“Well, brothers...” began one of them.
A string of colorful stories flew out. About Lord Ultor and his exploits, about units of nighters called to life in more and more countries. About the slow, secretive activities of the Capitol, creating a New Covenant.
Vesper listened and listened, eyes opened wide, his cheeks burned. He felt as if he’d suddenly found himself in the Orwell’s 1984. He just loved the Big Brother.
***
It was well after midnight when Nidor looked into the room. He searched out Vesper with his eyes, and motioned at him without words. He jumped up instantly. He left the room, watched by puzzled glances. He stood in the hallway, feeling his heart accelerating again and his chest was heavy with choking worry. He looked at the captain. Nidor had red, swollen eyes, like he was crying... but that wasn’t possible, was it?
“Lord Ultor wants to see you,” Nidor said quietly. “Come.” He walked down the hall wi
thout further comment.
Vesper followed. He ran his tongue over his suddenly-dry lips. So... this was it already?
They reached the major’s office, Nidor knocked briefly, and they walked in.
Ultor stood at the window, staring at the green, spring forest. He was still wearing his long black coat, as if he never parted with it.
He turned toward the nighters once they stepped over the threshold. He gave them both a careful, stern look.
Vesper’s legs buckled under him. Since yesterday, he’d promised himself that he would be brave, how he’d convince the lord after all that he could do it, that he would do his best... Now, he wasn’t sure of anything. He felt small, weak, and insignificant.
He stole a glance at Nidor. His head was humbly bowed, and he wore an expression of a beaten—no, a tormented—dog.
He’d already told him, Vesper understood in a flash of thought. And took everything on himself. The lord certainly wasn’t happy with him.
Vesper looked up shyly at Ultor, anxiously. He stared at him in silence, reading him carefully, slowly.
“What will you do, if I tell you that you can’t be a nighter anymore?” He asked suddenly.
A wave of sharp, penetrating pain swept over Vesper’s body. He closed his eyes and pursed his lips, trying to control their tremor. So that's it, he thought. This is the end, this is it. Sudden tears tickled under his lids.
And then came a huge, soothing brightness. Everything became so obvious and clear. He opened his eyes and walked a few steps forward. He knelt before the lord, moved his collar back, pulled his head forward, and put his hands on his knees.
“Cut, Lord,” he said quietly.
Ultor let the air out with a long, silent hiss.
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