Nanowrimo 2011 - Day 27

James hauled the wounded Kat to her feet and tossed her unceremoniously over his shoulder. He signalled and The Watcher to advance. One more flight of stairs, and they would be free of this place. One more and he could return to his old life. He stopped and sniffed the air - that aroma - it came from his old life. He remembered it with a foreboding. The night his wife died. The day that aristocrat had visited the police department. The night of the explosion at the docks. They were all linked. The smell of death. It was all over this place but concentrated in the hallway around the corner. He signalled for The Watcher to stop, he put Kat on the floor, and regrouped. This was the smell of one of them, and they needed to be careful. In vague hand-signals he indicated to The Watcher what was waiting. They needed Kat.

The Watcher solved his dilemma - made the choice for him - one moment James’s arm was fine, the next there was a fine gash about three inches long. Blood welled up and ran down his forearm to his hand in rivulets. The blood dripped off his fingertips and James knew what he needed to do. Simple really - he simply directed the flow and concentrated his attention on wanting the wound to remain open. There was a fight, his body verses his mind, to regenerate the damage but Kat meant more. The terrible hunger was built into them. It creeped James out to watch that automatic reflex to feed kick in with Kat’s rational mind still somewhere else, still unconcious. Like a baby she fed. Encouraged by the reaction James brought the wound to her lips and she drew on it deeply.

Kat’s eyes fluttered open and she looked shocked, pushed his arm away.

“No! That’s enough!” she said.

James felt disappointment - it had felt good to give of himself in this way to her. They had so much in common, he knew that, and he wanted more. He wanted to be known by her, and terminating this small link hurt, emotionally.

Kat struggled to her feet. James could see that she needed more. Why had she pushed him away. After the feast earlier that had put his hunger to bed completely he knew he was running with an excess. Whatever Kat would take of him, he knew he had it to give. Why had she stopped?

The Watcher put a hand on Kat’s shoulder and she nodded, looked toward the corner. She sniffed the air, clearly aware of the Vampire who stood in their way.

“I know his scent.” she whispered.

“You do?”

“Yes, this one is entrusted with this task because he is deeply trusted. This task - fit for one of a low station - is his today because it has been asked of him by those who are visiting. Their standing is such that he takes a menial position gladly, to serve. I know his scent. It’s the scent of the master of this farm.” she said

They discussed the options but it fell down to one plan once they had kicked around the possibilities. As master of the farm, he would know of Kat, and her capture at this juncture would be a boon to the master’s position. She would be distraction and it would fall to James and The Watcher to attack from his flank once he’d taken the bait.

Kat stalked the hallway but didnt feel like she had her usual edge. The last fight had taken a lot out of her - more than the others had known - and it took an act of will to push James away. She didnt trust herself. She didnt know if it was desire for him or simply her hunger. His moves! What she had seen so far of him was inspirational. United in purpose but unique in their abilities, she could admire what he was capable of doing from the vantage point of one who knows - everything she could do, somehow he was that, and more.

Lost in thought she almost blundered into the Vampire guarding the stairwell door. He hadnt been expecting her but from recognition came action and he was fast, even to her sight. He pulled a firearm from him belt and brought it to bear. Leaninf against the wall behind him was a farm implement, tall and bladed, that she recognized from the few times they had chosen to “cull the herd”. Something fell inside her. They were expecting him to take her alive.

James sprinted, pushing himself far beyond human standard limits, but was too late even pushing his body to its limit. Kat was falling, blood spray on the wall behind her indicated a body shot from the firearm the farmer was carrying. This time he needed his body to go beyond. He wanted to tear this guy apart with his barehands. His body responded in the affirmative, and he felt a delicious pain from his fingertips as they hardened into something resembling talons. His legs ached with the same pain of transformation. He leaped. Sudden extra power was pushing him onward, no mere jump, a galnce below saw holes torn in the floor from the launch. James brought talons to bear, reaching with transformed hands and feet. Impact. Simaltaneously he gripped, digging deep into the flesh of the vampire with hands and foot talons, and allowed his impressive momentum to carry them backward down the corridor. He flexed outward with all his strength feeling a tearing. They landed, bounced, rolled. James tossed aside handfulls of vampire flesh and spun looking for his opponent.

He was gone. In his place was an explosion of body fluids all along the walls and floor. The body had torn into pieces and these had been scattered by the bounce and roll. James allowed himself a smile of triumph and let the rage and desire for violence subside. With it, the transformation also faded. He rushed back to Kat, meeting The Watcher there.

The Watcher put a hand on James’s arm, to stop him, “Not again, this is beyond you now. We can do nothing for her here. In orbit though, yes, we can help her. Remember the plan - we need the shuttle.”

With a cry of frustration James spun and punched a hole in the wall. He stood, picked up Kat and started toward the door. The Watcher took the farm implement - someone from more ancient times would probably have described it as a Voulge - or the unitiated “a meat cleaver cleverly attached to a 5 foot pole”. Through the door, up stairs and they were at the landing pad for the pair of shuttles.

The Watcher’s sensors pulsed with information. Living in the implant had been a successful tactic but he missed an Android body. Shawna had vacated this body under threat of deletion. He understood why she would want it back - the arrays of sensors it claimed to have, data processing power. Almost all damaged beyond repair planetside. No wonder she wanted to be in orbit. She knew. Something tipped her off to the possibility of both AI and the capability to manufacture the bodies for them to inhabit. Well, the capability would be there for as long as the Vampire menace didnt find it and shut it down. From here on the planet surface The Watcher had no clue how bad it was in orbit, only that he had left a copy of his runtime spread across multiple nodes, in the hope it would be enough. The implant was a last resort - not even meant for his occupation unless in the direst of emergencies. No, it was meant to serve the needs of the Dhampir. The Watcher’s flight, and decision to split the role of Dhampir in two - Kat and James as halves of the same creature - meant he had to make a call. He chose to give Kat the advantage of the implant to offset her lesser abilities.

Even as they stepped out onto the roof, The Watcher knew which shuttle was theirs - one had just landed, only a matter of days ago, and compared with the other one, was warmed up ready for flight. The preflight checks would be half over before they had begun - if the shuttle brought a group down to the surface it stood to reason it was spaceworthy and capable of getting them back again.

Leading James carrying Kat, The Watcher made his way swiftly up the ramp, into the cockpit and settled into the pilot’s seat and began preflight checks. James settled with Kat into passenger positions in the secondary compartment, cradling her close. As The Watcher had said, she wasnt dead, but was close. Only her enhanced regenerative system was staving off death from the gunshot wound right now, but that would run out of energy and raw materials at some point. After that she would fade and die. James needed to get to orbit to find a way to stop the process. The Watcher was clear - there was hope back where they had come from.

[MAGDA / LUCAS]

The doorway in the railyard beckonned to her - hints of technology - the mechanical noises that the railyard was meant to cover for. Iaian was still fascinated by the operation of the remote keyless entryfob on the keyring. Lucas was quietly observing them both, amused at the strong reactions of Iaian.

Beyond the door were stairs, more doors, and corridors. All had a mechanical feel, the interior of a factory or steelmill perhaps. Iaian was taking it in his stride but the further they traveled the more modern the industry looked. Gaslights became electric incandescent bulbs, then strips of LEDs. The doors and floor changed. Finally it was clear to Magda that they would be entering a starship engineroom soon. The deckplating, power conduits and style of doors all screamed at her. Lucas stopped them before the final door.

“Once upon a time a young woman called Alice was guided into a magical world by following a white rabbit down a rabbit hole. Then Neo was offered a decision by Morpheus - to stick around and find out how deep the rabbit hole went down into wonderland. I ask you the same thing: this door is the point of no return.” Lucas said, looking serious.

Magda smiled. He didnt know. Couldnt know. She had to fake surprise at what she saw, or something. This wouldnt be a big step for her. Iaian on the other hand, now he might be a challenge.

Iaian swallowed, took a deep breath, and steadied himself, “Mr Wainwright, beyond that door is the next step in my career progression. You know how hard I have worked, and how eagerly I awaited the possibilty of promotion, and now you suggest that I might not have the tenacity to press through whatever it is that you are hiding? Can you so underestimate the drive that got me to this point in life? No sir. Open the door.”

Lucas nodded. With the air of theater he swung open a small box to the left of the door, and on the keypad inside, tapped in an access code. The door unlocked with an audible “Clunk”.

Beyond the door was a cavernous space. Literally, the space was hollowed out from the rock of the asteroid making up the body of the generation ship. The metal walkway they stepped out onto had a handrail, something that Magda was profoundly thankful for. The other side was solidly anchored into the rock wall.

Lights flashed, strobing in the great darkness, and giving the hints of the four enormous engines that partially filled the space. It was breathtaking. Magda wasnt prepared for this at all. Technology had changed - slower than light engines like these could push the massive bulk of the generation ship up to speeds close to the speed of ligh. More recently engine size had been greatly reduced with the discovery of how to jump to beyond the light speed barrier. These engines dated from the golden as of spaceflight, representing the pinnacle of human achievement at the time. Their size was awesome, but the sense of tangible history to the room was overwhelming.

Iaian, for all his big words, went white as a sheet and fainted.

A man dressed in grey coveralls stepped out of the darkness to their right, pushing a wheelchair. Lucas had prepared for this eventuality. Magda was glad that it had been Iaian that fainted. But had he expected her to be the one fainting? She considered the various other women at the events they had been to. Yes, had the roles been reversed and they been here in her stead, she could reasonably expect them to have a nasty case of the vapors. Lucas spoke to the man in grey coveralls and he nodded, turned around and wheeled Iaian at a good solid walking pace off down the catwalk.

Lucas turned to Magda, “Impressive sight, dont you think.”

Magda nodded, still speachless, finally finding her voice “I never thought I would see anything like this. Thank you.”

Lucas offered his arm, she took it, and they walked down the catwalk following it to where it terminated at another metal doorway. It was already open. The man in the coveralls no doubt had done there before them. Through the door was another cavernous space. This time the floor was polished smooth and had lines etched into its surface designating landing bays for a variety of different cargo haulers and atmospheric shuttle craft. Lucas turns, leading her toward the shuttle closest to them.

Magda tried to compare the sleek shuttle from “Purgatory’s Lament” and this little critter. This shuttle was triangular, shiny, but clearly well used. They entered by way of a ramp that took them into a secondary passenger compartment with a doorway that lead to the cockpit. There was already activity going on in the cokcpit, and Iaian was strapped into a passenger seat still unconcious.

Lucas pointed out a couple of seats across the cabin from where they’d entered the craft. He showed her how to buckle in, and what to do in case of emergency. Once they were in, he put an arm around her and she cuddled close.

The journey to orbit was going to be remarkably simple, at least from James’s perspective: He’d sit back cradling the injured Kat, go to sleep and wake back where he was meant to be all this time. Since when was life simple? Sure, he went to sleep as expected and while dozing he did notice a couple of bumps and the shuttle shaving around like some giant hand had plucked it from the air and was shaking it to see what was inside. None of these woke him fully. What finally did was the arrival of a large steel blade through the ribcage. He woke screaming.

He hoped that it was a dream, a nightmare, but on waking the blood pouring out of his chest told him differently. The farm implement apparently had an attachment for the tip, or perhaps built into the tip, he wasnt clear and it honestly didnt matter so long as the steel blade the went through the unconcious Kat and then through him remained in place pinning him to the seat. At the other end of the polearm was a man remarkably like the farmer James had dismembered in the corridor. Perhaps his younger brother? Apparently both were tasked with guard duty. If they got past big brother, little bro would deal with them inside the shuttle.

The vampire snarled, twisting the polearm and a whole new level of agony exploded in James’s chest. Pain he could deal with. Pain called back the insatiable hunger and the rage that had dealt with the farmer. But the rage was piled high seeing Kat impaled too. Like it wasnt bad enough she had to be shot and almost killed, but now to be impaled on the spike in the kid’s hands? James gave himelf to the power building inside, fueling it with everything he had. As he felt it peaking he arched his back pulling the blade out of the passenger seat. With the blade protruding from his back he stood. Kat fell from his lap, swung and hung impaled. James took hold of the blade and pulled, leaning backward, sliding off a few inches. Again push, lean and the blade popped free of his chest. The deadweight of Kat pulled the polearm toward the floor and James jumped for the man holding it carrying him back and slamming him into the bulkhead.

James gave himself fully to the hunger and rage in his system. They said one thing: feed! James the police officer had no voice. James the husband who lost his wife to just this sort of feeding screamed “Kill” wanting retribution. He embraced the moment and allowed instinct to take over. The subtle morphing of muscles and cartilage that had given him talons and the ability to leap earlier kicked in a more subtle change - muscles formed and pressed fangs into position - then held them there for him. Dhampir fed on Vampire. James dropped the vampire when the hunger was abated, and no sooner. He stepped back and the corpse flopped to the floor utterly drained.

What hit next was like the worst ice-cream headache in existance. He grabbed his head as it felt like it exploded. It was worse than migraines he had when younger - exploding sounds, colours and phantom smells and tastes. James fell to his knees holding his head in his hands, then the world went black as his brain said “Enough.” and shut down to process the explosion. James toppled and landed next to the prone, but still impaled, body of Kat.

James had dreams in the past - vivid ones even - but nothing was like what he was experiencing. This dream was solid with color and stimulated all of his senses. It felt like he was living it. The location was sunny and warm. He was in an office building - glass wall to his left let the summer sun in - and he was waiting … no the man he was watching was waiting … to enter a conference room the team joking called “the sensory deprevation tank”. James had never been here. This was alien to him but it felt so familiar. He must be following someone else, couldnt be him here.

The door to to conference room opened and Lucas Wainwright, their team lead, emerged standing tall and smoothing out his jet black collar length hair. He held up his hands for silence, “Gentlemen … and ladies” he said.

The group followed him back into the room. The front row was full of military brass - clearly Lucas’s prior meeting staying over for the current one.

“If I can have everyone’s attention. The assembled representatives of the military - all branches I might add - and their civilian interested that also were participating in this project have all agreed to the win-win scenario I am about to outline. Its bold for sure. Whats more, it will require partitioning the team - team A will continue under me, Team B will be lead by Drew Harris.

As you know, any prolonged colonization mission faces issues of information attrition. Sooner or later something doesnt get passed on from one generation to the next, or if it does, it rapidly becomes “lore” and the reasons why they need to service onboard equipment becomes lost. Our dilemma is solved if the society requires no such maintenance - or to put it another way - if the shipboard colonist society is low enough tech that the issues of ship and her maintenance simply arent their concern. Team A will focus on societal engineering - aiming for a mock Victorian motif - such that it can be self-sustaining over the projected flight time, measured in generations.

Thanks you. Now, over to Drew to explain the radical measures we will adopt for Team B.” Lucas stepped off the podium. The lights in the conference room dimmed and came back up, Drew was standing holding the mic, waiting for silence.

James gasped. He knew this man. He had just killed this man. The farmer in charge of the central farm here, was Drew Harris? It boggled James. The dream continued with Drew thanking the crowd, and asking someone to advance the slide-deck for him.

“Information attrition can be solved. A single generation of pilots never forget their training. What we need are specialists who can provide their skills to a crew, training them, while living the entire mission as one. In short, we need immortality.”

The room erupted in laughter. Drew let it go for a few moments, even grinning himself. Then he signalled for silence.

“I laughed myself when it was outlined. The mission is bold in scope. We intend to use a vampire crew, small enough in number that there will be balance with the wider population of the ship if the choose to feed. Doctor Kohler, please explain if you would?”

Drew handed the mic over to an older man and James recognized him - the doctor who ran the dockside clinic - that had treated both Vincent and he after the explosion.

Kohler spoke in a highly accented English, “The human genome project has been busy. Since sequencing began they have managed to isolate a number of fascinating DNA sequences - markers for common traits that we all know exist. What the public is unaware of is that we have also fully sequenced Vampire DNA, for a number of individuals, and from that sample set have DNA markers corresponding to a number of the well-known traits. A simple blood test of humans indicates that our own Junk DNA provides a template for the abilties a person will gain if they were to be infected with the retro-virus that causes vampirism. In short, a simple blood test of a human host will determine their viability as a vampire for this mission. We require what the post-mortal community call readers - those who encode and read memories in the blood and vital fluids of their bodies. It happens to all of us to a certain degree but there are individuals who, if turned, will absorb the life history and skillset of any who they sample to a significant degree.

The job of team B is to ascertain the minimum crew needed for this mission, to plot a stable predator / prey biorhythm, and run those numbers for the colony simulation. They will assemble a crew who, if willing, will be exposed to the vampire retrovirus in controlled conditions thereby assembling the final crew for the mission. These crew members will need to live alongside their lower-tech colonists for the duration of the mission, only occasionally stepping out of socity to mantain the external systems.”

The doctor left the stage and Lucas stepped back into the spotlight. There was a gunshot from the wings, then a second and two large red stains appeared on his work shirt. He collapsed to the stage and the room fell silent in shock.

With a grunt of effort he stood, pulled the shirt off and turned around. The gunshot wounds were gone. There was pain in the set of his face, and his voice seemed strained, “I am not going to send any of my staff where I, myself, am unwilling to go. Since hearing this plan I put myself forward, was treated a week ago with the virus, and stand today as testament. We will take the stars. They will be ours. We simply need to embrace non-traditional methods! Thank you, you’re dismissed.”

The lights came back and men stood at the exits. The crowd was subdued as it filed out past the stage and infront of these . A number spoke to the team leaders there, handing in their notice, and taking leave of the project before it descended into lunacy. Each person pricked their thumb and handed the tiny blood sample back to the attendant.

The dream finally faded and James came to, still laying on the floor of the shuttle’s passenger compartment. His entire life had been a lie? He felt his anger turning toward the vampires who freely hunted people on the ship, to those who put them in place. They had no right to treat people like cattle all because it solved a problem of “information attrition?”