Nanowrimo 2011 - Day 28

The flight down to the planets surface was a little bumpy and it woke Iaian from his sleep. Magda sighed, every time the shuttle hit a bump or was jostled by some turbulence, Iaian squeaked.

The pilot called from the cockpit, “Worst should be over, you can move around the cabin if you like.”

Magda stood and stretched, then smiled at Lucas who was watching her every move.

“I do something wrong there?” she asked

“Oh no. Just enjoying the moment. There are moments like these when its easy to forget the strictures of our society, in fact you have such an easy way about you, so naturally stepping aside to be yourself. Its refreshing and very un-ladylike at times.” Lucas said

“Un-ladylike? I dont hear a compliment in there…” Magda said.

“No. Its a good thing. You show spirit and backbone. You aspire to so much more than what ladylike behaviour would dictate. Im not interested in weak willed and insipid ladylike folk who will have a case of the Vapors at the slightest thing.” Lucas explained.

Magda finished stretching and walked through to the cockpit. There was a solid looking layer of cloud above them, that must have been the turbulence they’d felt, and below was a lush looking green world with trees and rivers. Ahead was a sharp dividing line, one side lush forest, the other clean bare dirt. At the center was a cluster of buildings. It looked like there was smoke curling from one of the outermost ones, and as they flew closer, flames were visible.

To Magda’s eyes it looked like someone had cleanly carved a farm out of the forest. A series of high energy micro-pulses from the shuttle engines would vaporize enough of the forest to allow them to build. But why was a building on fire?

“Lucas, why is the building down there burning?” she asked.

“Not another one!” he said, as they flew over the farm, pressing on toward their destination.

“Another one, what?” she asked.

“Another one attacked by The Feral as they like to call themselves.” Lucas said, “The opposed the introduction of farms, claiming to want to hold to the old ways and remain hunters. Some of the farmers take pity on them - claim it wouldnt be humane to simply let them starve - and they release some of their herds. All it does is encourage backward thinking! That aside, we should go strap in, we will be landing at the farm soon.”

Magda allowed herself to be guided back to her seat, deep in thought.

Afrer they had landed and were made comfortable in the guest suites Magda took the opportunity to tour the farm. During the tour she asked the farmer, “Do you participate in this idea of releasing some of the herd for the Feral to hunt?”

The farmer paused, swallowed, and answered, “Occasionally.”

She smiled, “I want you to arrange a meeting with the Matriarch of the pack.”

It took several days, during which Lucas had meetings with the farm manager, Iaian and others to assess profitability and quotas. Magda was left with nothing to do but wait. Finally the message came: a small vial of blood. The servant who delivered the message was little more than a child, and knew nothing more than she was meant to hand it to Magda. Magda swallowed the offering, hoping that it represented what she expected. Sure enough: memories blossomed in her head, images showing off the Matriarch’s power and reach. Propoganda. Blood called for blood. Magda responded in kind: pouring a precise offering into an empty glass vial provided by the messenger. As she did, she was sure to concentrate on the substance of her challenge, blood for blood, the true Matriach left standing at the end of their meeting. She knew the answer would come on swift feet.

That evening over an elegant dinner Magda broached the issue with Lucas, “Suppose I could solve the Feral problem once and for all?” she said.

He looked startled, “Then you would have done what none of my subordinates have managed in a dozen years.”

She smiled and raised a glass as a toast, “Then consider it my wedding gift to you.”

No witnesses were required, though each challenger was allowed by tradition to nominate a second. Tradition was ignored however. Magda’s hope that the pack reflected true, old values was shattered. They were a parody. Their matriarch knew a little but it was filtered by history and coloured by her own interpretation. Magda was disgusted. She was disappointed - her hopes had been high for a while knowing that the pack was out in the wild and opposed the obscene farming practices that had been introduced. At the core, she knew what every Matriarch down history knew, there was infinite variation in mankind’s makeup and the call for vampire to live alongside human being was nothing more than asking two men of different colour eyes to live alongside one another. Any man could be turned, some were even born with the privilage of being vampires from the start, but it was merely a trick of genetics.

For a while Magda had thought the pack could continue to survive. They provided a valuable service and with added supply lines and tactical information could even be used to bring down the farms and perhaps free the colonists. But these vampires were little more than juvenile delinquents running riot in the name of some half understood “old tradition”. It sickened her. It motivated her. If there had been any doubt that the Matriach should be replaced it was gone. Burned away in a righteous rage. Magda wanted her Mama Rosa to be proud.

Tradition would have seen the two women leave, and one return victorious. The event would have been low-key. Instead word had been passed and every one of the Feral was in evidence. If Lucas were to launch an attack now, he would eradicate the menace once and for all, but that wasnt what Magda intended.

There was none of the proud posturing from the pack Matriarch as there had been back on the generation ship. She was brutal. She lacked flair and finesse and made up for it in sheer physical strength and applied violence. Magda was glad that she had fed well and was at the peak of her strength for the trial by combat. What the Matriarch had over her in strength Magda matched with agility and speed. An initial flurry of activity and they parted, trying to get a measure of one another. Both had scored hits on her opponent. Magda limped slightly and her right eye was swolen shut. Twice more they engaged and parted, blows rainging down on one another, blocks parrying them. But it was Magda that miscalculated, her foot slipping, giving the pack leader the advantage. The resulting bearhug played to the wild woman’s strength and brutality. There were cheers from the assembled crowd as they heard ribs breaking in the vice-like embrace. Magda was thrown to the ground like a broken doll and the crowd roared their approval.

Magda had carefully conserved her resources, refusing to regenerate wounds inflicted by the larger woman. In contrast her opponent stood, proud and strong, hale and healthy but lacking the deeper well of vitality and power. She was being drained by the rain of smaller blows. She was spending unwisely to maintain her appearance for the pack.

Magda reached deep and called on everything she had learned about form shifting, fixing in her mind a single powerful image. She pulled herself up to hands and knees and was met with a swift kick to the shattered ribs that threw her back several paces. Again she made it to hands and knees. The added distance saved her from a followup kick. In a single smooth expenditure of energy she pushed up and outward. Flesh and bone melted and reformed even as she sprung forward, leaping for the other woman. The transformation visualized perfect ribs. It saw from two perfect icy-blue eyes. Wounds vanished even as the woman vanished, and was replaced by a powerfully built white artic wolf.

Fear registered in the matriarch’s eyes. This was what it meant to be from the Old Tradition, to have grown up in one of the Old Families under the watchful gaze of a Matriarch like Mama Rosa. Instinct caused her to raise a hand to block the incoming attack. Teeth latched onto her forearm. Momentum from the leap pushed her backward, the weight of Magda bore her to the ground. She had chosen well - pure white coat showed every blood splatter from the pack matriarch. Powerful jaws and teeth made short work of the woman’s forearm. She struggled from beneath Magda but fear had gripped her. She was fighting for her life with only a single hand to do it.

There was a quick and brutal kill to be had and Magda took it, closing jaws around the larger woman’s throat and biting. She gorged herself, drank deep then raised her blood stained muzzle high and howled. If the Feral wanted to style themselves after a pack, let them see a pack leader. Magda drank and used excess energy to shift form to her own self. Finally sated, she tore the head from the lifeless corpse and held it high, “Now, kneel!” she shouted.

One by one the pack joined her, pressing close, kneeling with eyes to the floor. Not one defied her. Good.

Spotlights had been arranged just beyond the outermost farm buildings. Farmhands armed with any weapon they could get were arranged between buildings. News had reached them that the Feral were on the move, enmasse, and headed directly for them. In the few hours that they had they had prepared for war.

They emerged from the edge of the forest, a single figure of a woman at their head. Behind her they formed a large wedge. The woman was stark naked, but strode with purpose, head held high, raven hair streaming behind her in the wind. Blood and dirt streaked her body.

She walked past the men with blades and shovels. She ignored the line of men with guns. She strode, full of purpose but without haste, directly into the center of the farm where Lucas and the farmer were standing. There she stopped, and smiled. She tossed her trophy, the severed head of the former matriarch, at their feet.

There was silence.

Somewhere behind her someone started clapping. The tension evaporated and people cheered, applauding her victory. Lucas reached for her and she melted into his arms. They turned and went inside.

Alarms were going off inside the implant. Shawna read them - vital signs falling - the schematics of the implant suggested that she would be fine even if the host carrying it were to die. She reached out pressing into places where she found Kat still manifest. She pushed power from the implant out, artificially cycling braincells and extending the execution of thoughts. She cradled the conciousness of Kat as best she could, taking over running of autonomic functions. She spread her processing as thinly as she could to cover all of the normal functions that came so naturally to a human mind. By sheer force of processing power she kept the wheels turning. She reached out further, travelling along nerves down the spine, inhabiting every nerve cluster she could find. She pushed, pulled, pumped. Never before had an AI fully inhabited flesh as she did at this point. She opened her eyes and saw the concerned face of James looking at her. She sucked in breath, pressed it back out again, pumped the oxygen around in the bloodstream. Concious effort to execute the largest multi-processor machine she had ever encountered. Deep in the recesses of the implant subroutines began to be written. It was amazing. New code - never before seen in an AI - flowed into the body to take up automatic control and free her concious thought from having to maintain all of the low-level life processes. The process took an age - all of a few seconds.

The Watcher wheeled out of the cockpit and beckonned for James to follow him out of the shuttle - they had landed and help was at hand for Kat. He looked down at her - no longer impaled on the spike - but laying immobile on the deck. Suddenly her eyes opened. She took a shuddering breath, then another. Soon her breathing found a regular rhythm and the madness left her eyes. James smiled. Then she sat up.

“This is truly remarkable!” Kat said, her voice not her own. It sounded artificial somehow, more the simulation of a human voice - what someone thought a human voice sounded like.

“You’re telling me!” James said, backing away, and looking at The Watcher with friehgt in his eyes. She had been fading and now suddenly was animated and talking. She had a pair of holes through her body only barely wrapped in makeshift bandages and yet was sitting and talking. It shouldnt be.

“Can you stand?” The Watcher asked.

“Yes.” she said in the dull aproximation of a voice.

“Good, then no-one will need to carry you. Keep up or you will be left behind!” The Watcher said.

“That’s harsh isnt it?” James said, “Your bedside manner needs work. That’s no way to talk to an injured woman.”

The Watcher turned to James, “Two things - first, she isnt the one who is injured and secondly she is no woman. Now, let’s move and get the body repaired before the mind is lost to us.”

James offered Kat a hand up. She took it, and smoothly stood. By rights the pain from the gunshot wound ought to be doubling her over, without the other wounds. James didnt know how she managed it.

They followed The Watcher out into a cavern. Other vehicles, larger than the shuttle, but clearly similar design were parked nearby. Lines etched into the floor indicating which space belonged to who.

They had a welcoming party - a group of three men and a woman wearing grey coveralls. They spoke briefly to The Watcher, then hurried over to Kat. A fifth appeared pushing a chair on wheels. She gatefully sat down and was whisked away from them.

“Where are they taking her?” James asked, “and who the heck are they?”

The Watcher spoke, while leading the way, wheeling along at a fast walking pace.

“They are members of the crew - known as The Subservient - they were taken from the population of the ship while only babies and raised to serve the vampire overlords out here in the wider ship-space. They’ve taken her to the medical center. Follow me.” He picked up the pace and James had to run to keep up.

The medical center was a series of rooms that baffled James. He had been to the clinic down at the docks. He expected them to be similar. The only similarity was the nursing staff and doctors that took care of patients. This medical center smelled of anti-septic chemicals, much as he remembered in the clinic, but also had equipment with flashing lights and text readouts.

They worked on Kat - first fixing the gunshot wound, then cauterizing and sealing the wound from being impaled. They attached bags of fluids to her by long tubes. Lastly they hooked up a cable into a hole just behind her ear and into a network drop on the wall. A matching cable connected The Watcher to a similar network drop.

The Watcher sent a single ‘ping’ along the hardwired network to get Shawna’s attention. She blossomed out into the virtual space.

“Shawna, I am in your debt” The Watcher said.

Shawna stood and regarded their environment. It was … she reached out and kept going. She counted processing nodes. It was unbelievable. It was cavernous. The space begged for her to move in. As she pulled processing power away from Kat’s body and brain, doctors rushed over and got to work.

At first Shawna had an enormous problem. She was used to limited environments and small address spaces. The bohemoth she found herself occupying defied reason. She tried to remember and ran into index errors where memories ought to be. She fought to keep her processing localized to just a few nodes. Was this what it was like swimming through the processing cloud she had been born to?

The Watcher appeared nearby, “Thank you Shawna. I appreciate your efforts in bringing my planetside presence up”

“…up”

It was like someone shattered him from inside out. Data streamed into local storage nodes and they flickered and lost power. Shawna fled. Something had killed The Watcher.

Magda and Lucas faced one another in the light of a magnificent bonfire in a natural clear near the central farm. Magdalena had chosen a few of her most trusted lieutenants from the pack to attend. Lucas had invited aristocracy from the ship. Under the night sky all were equal, as they were naked.

Magdalena stood to receive her new husband. Lucas was brought in, blindfold and bound at the wrist, he knelt before her.

“Do you offer yourself to me, age upon age, freely and forever?”

“I do, my Matriarch.”

Magda smiled, removing his blindfold. She cast a glace around those present. Mama Rosa would be proud. She just wished she could be here to witness.

Magda leaned in, “I accept your gift…” she untied his hands, “and I now unmake you, freeing you from bounds of lineage…”

She drank. This was the moment she had been told about. The moment that Mama Rosa specifically instructed her on. To drain just enough that death began to grip him … take him until all he feels is the emptiness of death … leave him there unable to physically cry out, but mentally screaming for release. To treat him to terror as he has never known.

“… freeing you from bounds of lineage … and binding you to myself alone.”

How much the Matriarch chose to give of herself was never spoken of publically. Mama Rosa had explained in her memory fragment that too little and the husband would be little more than a mindless drone. Too much as he would be willfull. The trick was to balance, keeping power and control, binding his will to her own but granting him enough independance. The amount she chose to give would be a measure of the love that she felt for him.

Magda guided Lucas to drink. To give just a little would leave him unable to control the aristocracy on the ship. She felt a deep surge of pleasure as he drank. His absorbed essence and memories had burst into her brain. He was known at the deepest levels. If she was careful though, she could give him back just what he already knew of her. Careful guards. Pleasure welled as she fed on him. Energy cycled between them, binding them together. More memories flowed.

If she gave him just enough independant thought he could control the status quo, and they could move mattters slowly forward. She would have time to learn. Time to build her power base. She would control the pack on the surface and the aristocrats on board the ship.

But Lucas had offered himself freely. She knew that from the first taste. There was no guile. Pleasure rose and fell, carrying her upward. To open to him fully was madness! Oh, but it felt so utterly good. Plans, schemes, political maneuvering … they all vanished … there was simply him, and her. She lost herself in the moment and let it all go. To know, as to be known. To love him as he had first loved her. She gave in, and gave it all. At that moment she knew, she knew, how and why Mama Rosa was such a leader. She had the trust of her mate at her side. The ritual gave them that. There were no secrets. If she had schemes and plans, they were now his. They would rule.

Finally she opened her eyes, released Lucas and lifted him to his feet. There was applause from the guests.

Bride and groom returned to the main farm house, dressed and returned to the party which was in full swing. There were cheers. They were brought gifts.

Toward the end of the line Magda noticed a commotion, a man dressed in reasonably shabby clothing compared with most of their guests. He was leading a woman by a leash. Magda sniffed, catching her scent on the air and everything stopped. The world froze. No. Not now. Not here!

Lucas reached over and put a reassuring hand on her knee, “What’s wrong.”

Panic gripped Magda. This could undo everything. Called back, her wedding night taken from her. She stared shaking and Lucas held her. The line moved along, gifts piling around their seats.

Finally the shabby farmer stood before them.

“You bear a gift?” Lucas asked.

“I do.” the man said, pulling a hood off the woman he was leading.

Li Phan hadnt been mistreated while under the farm’s care. Her movements were restricted, but the food and accomodation had been pleasant. She felt like she was being treated with kid gloves though. Finally it came, she was to be presented to the new Lord and Lady. She was bathed and stripped, a hood placed over her head, hands bound and a leash attached to the wrist bindings. She was lead from her accomodations into the main building of the farm and slowly along the line until her turn.

“You bear a gift?” a man asked, in a smooth English accent.

The farmer answered, “I do.” and pulled the hood off her head.

The first thing she saw was the vampire that had so terrified James. To his side … no … it couldnt be. Li stumbled and the farmer took the opportunity to push her downward until she knelt.

“Magdalena de Rosa.” Li said.

Magda stood, leaned over to speak to the vampire sat next to her, and extended a hand to the farmer. He gladly offered up the leash and moved on, terrified.

Magda lead Li into a side room, closed the door and leaned against it.

“What. The. Heck?” she said, “You of all people. Now, of all times.”

“This is your immersion anthropology?” Li asked.

Magda laughed, “It hasnt been that for, oh, an age already. But you … your mere presence here could undo everything I have done. You only need…”

Li cut in, “Let me go. You dont need me, and if I leave I will never return. I’ll tell them you died in the crash.”

Magda looked surprised, “You crashed?”

“Yes. We crashed. Eric is still there. I need to get him off planet, back to a hospital.”

So many emotions raced through Magda at that moment. So many ways she could, in a decisive way, guarantee silence. But Lucas had so utterly trusted her. It was a warm glow like nothing she had ever felt before. With a small nod, she agreed.

“You will be taken from this place and dropped back at the crash site. You will have only the provisions you can carry on your person.”

Magda opened the door and lead Li by the leash back out of it and over to one of the human farm hands and explained - take Li to the kitchens, give her 5 minutes by the clock, and whatever she was carrying at that point she could take. Then take her by shuttle back to the crash site.

A voice cracked from the speaker next to Li’s makeshit cot.

“This is the Kasparov’s Gambit, responding to your distress signal. Can you hear me?”

Li woke and fumbled for the stolen radio. It had been weeks, her stolen rations eeked out over so many days. At least water was plentiful around the crash site. She waited, knowing that a distress signal would bring either commercial shipping, or another deep-space scouting vessel.

“Again this is the Kasparov’s Gambit, responding to your distress signal. Can you hear me?”

Li pushed a button, “Yes. I hear you. This is Li Pha of Purgatory’s Lament. What took you so long?”

There was a laugh from the other end. She turned over in the cot and looked up at the frozen blue glow from the escape module. Eric would now have a chance. She reached out a hand and pressed it to the flat surface.

“We’re going home old friend.”

Li woke next in the sickbay of a scout craft. It was identical in design to the one she had known all these years. At her side was a med-tech, his dark grey uniform different to anything she had experienced. Her crew were all sensor-net wearers, especially Shawna their medic.

Li scanned the room. Everything else looked in order. She looked at the medic again, and he smiled. She looked at herself, she was dressed in the same form-fitting dark grey. She liked it.

She sat up, “Am I free to go?”

The medic looked at his chart, “Yes, you are. The captain would like a word with you though. It seems you are needed urgently on the other vessel. Captain is in the mess right now.”

Li swung her legs down and thanked the medic. The other vessel?

The captain was a large man, seemingly as broad as he was tall. An intimidating presence just by his size, but when he spoke it only increased. His voice was deep and melodious, a voice of command and control. It was a voice that could bark orders across a parade ground and have privates wet themselves on the spot in fear.

“Li Phan. Only known surviving member of the Purgatory’s Lament.” he said.

“Sir - wasnt the escape module also brought aboard?” she asked.

“Indeed it was, but we have a lengthy flight and a complicated hospital procedures to wait for before we can verify the identity of the half-a-man you have in stasis, and find out why you would butcher him thus.”

“No! I didnt do that to him!” she said, tears welling, “I only wanted to see him survive, please…”

The captain paused, “Noted. When we made orbit it was obvious that you had made a momentus discovery - the Nox was one of the first group of generation ships ever launched. If you have proof you didnt merely crash - prior findings from study of the ship - you might have a valid claim to one of the largest scout service bonuses ever paid out.”

Li felt the ground swallow her. “Its all recorded under Protocol Seven.” She said, “on board the Lament.”

“We are still searching for her. Energy discharge readings suggest she might have emergency jumped, who knows where, after being fired upon. We had to wait until she makes space-dock to verify the claim. Unless you have any evidence you can present?”

Li wracked her brains. James! “Am I the only survivor? No males other than Eric?” she asked.

“Indeed, no other survivors.”

Damn! She thought back to the studies, and why she had wanted to get back up to orbit so badly. The razor!

“Sir. If I might lead a small team on board the Nox. I can lead you to an artifact that will prove I was studying them. Had I not studied them, would I know that there is a vintage cut-throat Sheffield Steel razor on board the ship?”

The captain nodded, “Interesting. Also, we were hailed as we reached orbit, seems someone aboard the ship needs your aid. The message simply said ‘download me’, and your name.”

Shawna? Had she survived?