by A K Blake
Placing his hand against the biosafe, Luca opened it and withdrew the sphere. It felt heavier than usual in his palm, the familiar etched buttons and indents now a sinister pattern. He’d found that, since unlocking the sphere completely, he could now open it at will, as often as he liked. Trying to put his worries from his mind, he made the practiced motions and waited for the pieces to spring apart.
“Jubilee. Dimmer.”
As before, the room was suddenly awash with light, though not as blinding as the first time. Looking at the screenshot from the message, Luca considered the first symbol. It was like an arrow looped over itself, with “update into” typed in below it by way of definition. Taking a breath, Luca said aloud.
“Update into.”
He thought at first nothing had happened. It was not a match! However, he forced himself to be sure. Standing up, he did a full circle, looking over every surface of his small apartment. There it was. In a crack of the wall that had been hidden from him by the bedside table, he found the illuminated mark, identical to the one in the screenshot. He felt the pain in his chest tighten. This was not what he had hoped for.
Dizzy, he forced himself to try another. Again, it was a match, as was the next and one after that. This was confirmation, this was it. He’d found the meaning of the decade-long puzzle Tarquinnius had left behind. And now it was clear why he had gone to such great lengths to keep secret. It must have been him who posted the definitions on the message board those many years ago, or at least the Queen believed it was him, and was why he had been arrested. No doubt it was unusual, perhaps even illegal, to make a full download of the deadwire programming language and save it on a storage device. This would explain the intensity of the safeguards.
GroundCom, also known informally as deadwire, was a closed system. Accessing the network required the user to be physically at one of the GroundCom terminals, the locations of which were not disclosed to the public. Furthermore, the programming language, as well as the programmers who worked on it, were a closely guarded secret. Luca had known his master was gifted with technology, but he had been too young to put together that he might be one of the few elite who worked on the government’s private network.
Compared with GroundCom, the FreeNet was relatively easy to navigate and hack, at least from what Luca had seen in holovids. He himself had never bothered learning much about programming or how the FreeNet worked, never thought it really important. He’d once looked into programming, thinking it might help him unlock the sphere, but had given it up almost immediately, bored out of his mind. This was something he now intensely regretted. Even with the deadwire coding language at his fingertips, even if he were to somehow find and get access to a terminal, he doubted he would have the technical skill to make use of it.
This was of course all assuming he was willing to take such a risk, which he was not. GroundCom was shadowy and secretive for good reason. All the medical AMA machines, the ARGAS system, the automated blood dispensers, and the PoliciBots were deadwired. If someone wanted to, using what Luca was currently holding in his hands, they could swap a common vaccine administered by the AMAs for poison, they could give all the vampires tainted blood, they could use the PoliciBots to create laws in their own interests. The potential ramifications were huge.
So what was this information doing in a seemingly innocuous device, one that Tarquinnius had let him play with as if it were a toy? Had Tarquinnius planned to take the sphere and release it to the public? Had he intended Luca to take it if he were arrested all along? What if he had been a traitor? Perhaps he was going to sell it to the highest bidder, the Ithscans or some terrorist group. Luca had always thought that unlocking the sphere would give him answers, but he was left with only more questions.
Sighing, he rubbed his forehead. The aftereffects of the drugs and the bright lights, usually barely bright enough for his weak human eyes, were giving him a headache. Closing the sphere, he put it back in the safe. It was almost time for work anyway. He would have enough problems trying to make it through tonight’s carnage without this weighing on him as well.
Part III
Chapter 7
True to Kaius' word, Callidus as they flew over it was breathtaking, like nothing Iona had ever seen. Aequus was little more than a collection of log cabins, but here the buildings shone and gleamed like quicksilver. They were stretched and poured into fantastic shapes, rectangles and arches and spiraling towers, some so tall they seemed to pierce the sky. Light spilled from every window and street corner, blazing trails along the highways and shining like gossamer thread from alleys. Underlying all the blooming innovation was a logical grid, piercing and connecting it. Looking at it from so far up, it looked like a single, giant computer chip. Iona was enchanted. She also thought it looked very easy to get lost in.
This fear was confirmed by their short drive from the airport to the palace. The buildings were enormous, and the people! They were everywhere, more than she’d ever seen in her life, crowded together like ants. Vampires and humans jostled each other, packing into the buildings and vehicles, talking at rapid speeds. It was like everything in their lives was moving at fast-forward. She had expected something like this, but she hadn’t been prepared for the physical feeling, the tightness in her lungs and the dizziness. She was glad to be sitting down, strapped safely into the seat of the car.
Finally they broke away from the busy streets and drove along a wide, open road, lined by artfully trimmed bushes and gilded lamp posts. Her breathing relaxed as they curved up a gentle hill toward what at first looked like a giant iceberg. As they drew closer, however, it became clear it was a building. In the front was an ancient, squat structure, made of massive chunks of rough-hewn stone. The edges of the blocks were irregular, eroded by the passage of time. Jutting behind and around this, however, was a much larger, more modern creation. Glass and steel sprawled asymmetrically around the original building like shards of ice. Lit from inside, a single edifice among the carefully cultivated garden, the palace was truly majestic.
Their driver turned away from the front entrance, following a sign that read, “Congressional Employees and Guests.” They pulled underneath an awning and got out. Despite the grandeur of the outer parts of the building, the passageway between the glass shards was quite plain. Inside the entryway was an ARGAS machine, which Citra used to confirm their appointment. This time, when Iona placed her palm on the digipad, the light turned green, indicating her UPI had been approved. Finally she was a legal citizen of the country in which she had always lived. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it.
“Thank you. Please note that your presence here today, Citra Jacantis, Kaius Amicus, and Iona Meranto has been recorded. You may proceed through the doors directly ahead. You will find the office of Representative Eris deManthus down the second hall on your right. Have a pleasant night.”
Following the machine’s directions, they walked until they reached a plaque with the Representative’s name etched into it. The office inside was made of the same austere materials as the passageways, but his staff had obviously tried to make it appear more refined. There were several columns dotting the area in front of the secretary’s desk, topped by marble busts of people Iona didn’t know, and the wall behind the counter was covered in a dramatic floor-to-ceiling mural. It took her a moment to recognize the story: it was the Seraph Calleda as she crowned Gamen, the first vampire king. On her head she wore a crown with her symbol, the one Iona now realized had been on the hands of the vampire cleric, a series of ever bigger circles.
“Is there something I can help you with?”
deManthus’ secretary was a dark-haired vampire with heavy eyelids and an imposing stare.
“We’re here about the new blood giver for the Queen that Congressman deManthus requested.”
“A giver? And so you thought he would want her brought to his congressional office? Dieda take it. Did you think he wanted a sample first? Obviously he has no interest in her personally. Ta
ke her around back to the giver quarters.”
Iona heard Citra growl very quietly under her breath. The secretary sighed and messaged her a map. They were turning to leave, Citra still muttering in a way that was not quite inaudible, when the secretary suddenly straightened, cocking her head toward one ear as if listening.
“Wait.” There was a pause. “The Representative will see you.”
They turned again, moving awkwardly in tandem. The secretary held up another imperious finger.
“Not you two. Just the giver.”
So Iona went in alone.
The Congressman was standing when she entered, his head bent as he inspected his spore. Dressed in a sharp suit, the lines of which accentuated his defined waist and manly shoulders, he cut an imposing figure. He had a dark, full head of hair, with silver at the temples and the kind of heroic jawline over which people swooned. His eyes were a striking shade of blue, and she supposed many would consider him handsome. Yet, there was something hard behind the cyan flecks of his eyes, something pitiless in the relentless white bleach of his teeth.
He glanced up when she came in, nodding toward a chair before returning to what she realized was not a spore but a watch. She sat. Several seconds passed in silence, punctuated by the soft click of the knobs as he turned them. She had never seen such an antique machine, the kind with actual knobs and no digital display. No doubt it was priceless. Her fingers got that itching feeling again. It was no FreeNet, but she’d still like a good look at the hardware.
Only when he had finished, the last click sliding into place, did Eris acknowledge her. She was suddenly treated to the full impact of his megawatt smile.
“Iona, isn’t it? I’m Representative deManthus. It’s good to see you. Cleric Ascara told me all about you and your...unique heritage. I hear you’re something quite special. We’re expecting great things.”
He waited, still smiling, as if for her to comment. She nodded.
“I hear we found you in the Rasuk Woods. Must be a pretty hard life out there. Your parents must be proud to see you actually make something of yourself.”
“They’re dead.”
“Sorry to hear that. In any case, I’m sure any parents would be happy to see their little girl plucked from obscurity, brought all the way into the royal palace, elevated so far above her natural station. It reminds me of the story of King Gamen, lowly mercenary to divine ruler. It’s practically biblical.”
Iona shrugged. She knew she should try harder, that it was foolish to act like this. Yet when she reached for the energy to simper and grovel, as always, it simply wasn’t there. The Congressman narrowed his eyes, though his smile remained plastered on.
“What, no bibles in those savage little camps of yours? Well then it’s no wonder you don’t have any manners.”
“Funny, it felt like I was being insulted. I guess that’s what comes of being such a savage.”
If she had wanted his full attention earlier, she certainly had it now. His smiled disappeared, and he leaned across the desk, planting his knuckles deliberately on the finely polished wood. Up close she could see the stray hairs above his eyebrows. He smelled of mint. She hoped he couldn’t hear her heartbeat speeding up.
“Service would have taught you some respect for your betters, but it sounds like I’m going to have to give you a crash course. Let me tell you something, girl. I have spent hundreds of years and tens of millions of cc’s preparing for what is come. Calleda has shown me the future. I am her mouthpiece, I am the prophet who will herald in a new era for vampire and for humankind. And I did not sweat and pray the best years of my life away for this, just for a back talking little heathen like you to screw it up, do you understand me?”
“And here I thought I was ‘special.’”
“Oh, you think you’re tough? You think you have some kind of leverage? Bless. I may not have another nightwalking southie lying around, but there are two million givers in this city, all of them dying for the chance of a lifetime, the one you are currently shitting all over. We picked you out of pure charity, but don’t think I won’t throw you back in those Dieda-forsaken woods the second you give me a reason. Never forget that you are disposable. You’d better learn some manners and quick if you expect to stick around. You should thank Dieda I don’t throw you out right this minute.”
He was practically spitting now, icy blue eyes full of malice. The muscles in his arms strained against his suit. Iona returned his glare for several seconds. There was a part of her that wanted to respond in kind, show him a little of that infamous “southie” anger. But this was not Aequus, and he was not some other village brat’s father. There was a danger to insubordination here that she had never experienced before. Best to let reason win out. Taking a breath, she steeled herself.
“I...apologize.”
There was a palpable silence. She trained her eyes on the floor, but she could feel him looking at her. She cleared her throat. “As you said….we don’t have many manners in Aequus.”
After a few moments, he drew back, pulling his fists from the hard surface of the desk.
“Well, at least you’re not as dumb as you look.” He straightened his tie. “I think we’ve established some ground rules here. What a productive little chat. And what have we learned? Keep your head down, do your job, and above all, be polite. Yes?”
He smiled, the kind of smile a bully gives after beating someone. A predator’s smile. Gritting her teeth, Iona nodded. Let him enjoy it while he could. She would find something on him. She’d done it before, left an incriminating message up on someone’s screen in the village, taped a printout of betrayal to someone’s door. But the possibilities were so much richer with the entire FreeNet at her disposal. The Progressives didn’t know what they’d done. They thought her weak and stupid, but she would show them who needed manners. All it would take was a little time.
Eris returned to his watch, making a shooing motion toward the door.
“Now, get out of my office. And for Dieda’s sake, try not to look so dour. Smile, why don’t you? You’re giver to the Queen!”
***
Her parting with Citra and Kaius was brief. They marched her up the stairs to the giver quarters, a cozy area on the second floor that was strewn with old junk Iona couldn’t wait to inspect. When Kaius deposited her bags, they took up nearly half the room. Though little seemed new, the space had a lived-in feel that she liked, and everything smelled of cinnamon.
Citra did not say goodbye, just “We’ll be seeing you,” in a manner that felt more like a threat than a farewell. Kaius gave her a single pat on the arm and nodded.
“See you around.”
He looked sideways at Citra as if he wanted to say something else but in the end remained silent. Then they left, shutting the door. Iona couldn’t say she was sad to see them go, but it did feel strange to be suddenly alone in this vast unknown
Happily, she was distracted from such feelings, as her attention was immediately trained on the shining thing that had been left on the bed: a spore, her spore.
Snatching it up, Iona put the band around her wrist. Despite appearing to be metal, it fit her like a second skin. Finding the power button, she pressed it, and the spore hummed to life instantaneously, light years faster than the old, hard models they’d had back in the village. Experimenting, she flicked her wrist as she had seen Kaius do, and nearly squealed with glee as the razor thin screen unfurled, snapping rigidly into place. She would have to look into what made it do that, some kind of electric current most likely.
Her very own spore. Iona revelled in the elation, a hard-edged glint of light at the end of what had been a very difficult first night. It was everything she had imagined and more. It was incredible, the amount of information that was available. There were general facts. For example, she had learned that Callidus was only the second largest city in Laemia. New Gamen was the biggest, though she couldn’t imagine how there could be space for more people than she’d already seen. The g
overnment consisted of a monarchy and an elected assembly that were meant to work together, though it seemed they rarely did. The number of representatives varied, based on the percentage of votes cast for each party. Terms were a century long, meaning that only vampires could be elected, and only vampires could vote.
However, the FreeNet was much more than just an encyclopedia. It was a platform for communication and self promotion. There were thousands of sites dedicated to people voicing their opinions about everything from the latest holovid to the best ways to care for one’s fangs. At first she’d found it difficult to believe that people would indulge others by listening to their inexpert ramblings, but she soon found herself falling down a cascade of advice posts regarding the pros and cons of earpieces versus implants, and she began to understand.
What really interested her, however, remained just out of reach. She was quick to search out everything available about Eris and the Progressives in general, but most of what she found was useless. She didn’t care about policy platforms and candidate bios. No, the kinds of things she wanted to know about—the compound, the human trafficking, dirt on Eris deManthus—were not the kinds of things they were in the habit of posting about in the public eye. She would have to keep digging. She knew she should rest up for her first night, but she was so far from sleepy...
***
Orientation the next twilight was led by a youthful man with flowing gray hair who introduced himself as Head Giver Obrax. He seemed nice enough, though his presentation was short and less informative than she’d hoped, mostly details about their employment contracts, only half of which she understood. There were only two other people in the meeting, a blond, scowling boy who’s name she immediately forgot and a milk-skinned girl, introduced as Lux. They both struck her as decidedly worldly, something about their elegant slouches and perfectly coiffed hair. They watched the lecture through half lidded eyes, and their hands did not even twitch when Obrax asked if there were any questions. Seeing this, Iona felt it best to hide how out of her depth she felt.