Sunset (Pact Arcanum)

by Arshad Ahsanuddin

  Rafael nodded. “I achieved Master Pilot rating before I left the Guild. Now I’m just another Dirtsider, and the rest of them are embarrassed to be seen with me.”

  “I see.” Nick really didn’t, but had no interest in inquiring further. He gestured toward the portrait still being projected on a virtual screen over the stage. “Did you know the Cadet?”

  Rafael shook his head and looked at the portrait too. “No, but he has my sympathy for the manner of his death.”

  “I sometimes wonder if the Sentinel victims are the lucky ones.”

  Rafael turned back to him, surprised. “I beg your pardon?”

  Nick’s expression was indecipherable. “Vampire victims usually survive after a few weeks in a coma to allow the body to heal. They’re the ones left facing eternity with the perfect memory of that agony forever after. There’s no support group for that kind of trauma.”

  “There have only been a handful of cases since Recursion Drive was introduced in 2023, Ambassador,” Rafael said, staring at Nick with interest. “Most Spacers aren’t aware that the condition isn’t uniformly fatal.”

  “My name is Nicholas, Master Pilot. And there have actually been eleven cases, not including this one,” Nick corrected. “Six Sentinel, one human, and four vampire.” He took a sip of wine. “Three of the vampire victims made it, although their identities are confidential.”

  “You’ve made quite a study of it, haven’t you? I wasn’t aware of the human victim.”

  Nick shrugged. “He was a physicist the Triumvirate recruited to help with one of their research teams. They were shuttling him to one of the orbital stations when they switched to jumpdrive. He died almost instantly.” Nick finished his drink and set the empty glass down on the table beside him. “I’ve been trying to find the vampire victims for more than a year, but the Armistice doctors refuse to tell me who they are.”

  “Why are you trying to find them?”

  Nick turned to face the window again. “To see how the other survivors deal with the memories. Maybe we have something to offer each other.” He looked back over his shoulder at Rafael, who stared wide-eyed at him. “That’s right. I’m case number ten of the twelve. The most my doctors were willing to do was forward an anonymous invitation to the other two survivors, inviting them to meet me. Neither took me up on it.” He paused, waiting for a response, then shrugged as he stared out the window again. “Nothing to say to that, Master Pilot?”

  “I thought the invitation was presumptuous,” said Rafael. “I threw it in the trash.” He waited until Nick had turned completely around to face him again, the Daywalker’s eyes focused and intent. “Case seven.” Rafael held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Nicholas.”

  Nick reached out and shook the Nightwalker’s hand. “Call me Nick.”

  Letting go of Nick’s hand, Rafael stepped past him to look out the window at the stars. “My friends call me Rafael, or just Raf.” He smiled wistfully. “My classmates called me Bellerophon, after the rider of Pegasus. It’s kind of a tradition to take a call sign from human mythology at the end of first-stage training. I was the best pilot in conventional flight that the Academy had ever seen. Then I finished simulator training for Recursion navigation and took the controls of a jumpship for the first time. It was supposed to be a simple ten-minute flight from the Citadel to Cassandra Station, just to prove I could manually plot a course to the Trojan point.”

  He turned to face Nick, his eyes hard. “I remember screaming for almost a full minute before they figured out what was happening and shut down the drive.”

  “Shutting down the drive doesn’t work,” Nick said softly. “The neural feedback cascade is irreversible.”

  Rafael shook his head. “They didn’t know that then. I was only the second vampire case, and the first one didn’t survive. Until me, no one had lived long enough to even warrant an attempt to abort the progression.” He shrugged. “After four minutes, I finally blacked out. That’s the last thing I remember until I woke up again a month later, and my whole life ended for real. You don’t understand what it means to a Spacer to be grounded, knowing I have to spend the rest of eternity Earthbound. I would have just stepped into the sunrise and been done with it, but I didn’t care enough at that point to bother. It took me almost a year to finally decide to face life again.”

  “What changed?”

  Rafael met Nick’s eyes. “Tanya Byrd.”

  “Case eight.”

  “She was a year behind me at the Academy. When I heard how she died, I pulled it together for the funeral. Seeing my old classmates again, hearing how their lives had passed me by, it finally penetrated that I didn’t have anything to show for my time as a Cadet.” He smiled. “A moment of vanity saved me. I decided to make people remember me and just how good I was. So I wrote it all down, everything I knew about flying, and gave it to the Guildmaster. I think he only read the book because he felt sorry for me. I hear they’re still using it as an advanced textbook.”

  He sighed. “After that, I began to find other things to occupy my time. Turns out, I have a talent for writing software. I design Navigation AIs now, using what I learned as a pilot to refine the architecture of the interface and make it more practical for the average user. The Guild finds my designs quite popular; they’ve already approached me to submit a proposal for the Odyssey AI package. Who knows? If I can’t have the stars, maybe I can at least make it easier for others to reach for them.”

  Rafael poured each of them a glass of Tiamat from the decanter on the refreshment table next to them. He handed a glass to Nick and took a sip from his own. “And yourself, Ambassador? You are Soulkiller’s Bane. How did you manage to keep such a major vulnerability under wraps?”

  Nick took a sip of his wine and considered his answer. “No one outside my immediate circle of friends knows what happened, other than my doctors. The Journeymen were on a break between tours when I decided on a whim to do something different for my vacation and got on a flight to Ares Colony without telling anyone. I was traveling on a passenger transport, alone in my cabin, when they switched to inertialess flight.

  “Scott felt me broadcast what I was feeling over the link. It paralyzed him with pain until he managed to mask himself from me. By the time he finally figured out where I was, and which ship I was on, I was already in a coma. No one could understand what had happened. It wasn’t until after I was returned to the Citadel that they were able to detect the neurodegenerative signature of the disease. Even then, they didn’t believe it until after I woke up six weeks later and told them what I did.”

  Rafael frowned. “What do you mean? The post-cascade biosignature is pathognomonic. What did you do that would cause them to doubt the diagnosis?”

  Nick swirled his glass gently, watching tiny waves ripple chaotically across the surface of the bloodwine. “I had never heard of RD at that time, Rafael. All I knew was that I was in agony, and that it was related to some form of neural feedback. Luscian used something similar on me whenever his knife hand got tired, so I thought I was under a similar form of psychic attack. I cast a neuroprotective healing spell, trying to defend myself.”

  “Fire and Darkness,” whispered Rafael. “Terminal damage is the only thing that halts the feedback cascade. That’s why vampires survive, because we can regenerate the dead tissue. If you prevented neural death, you would just have—”

  “Prolonged it,” finished Nick, his eyes focused on the red liquid in his glass. He carefully drank the rest of his bloodwine and put down the glass before raising his eyes to meet Rafael’s shocked gaze. “The reason nobody knows is that everyone thought it was some kind of failed assassination attempt. They didn’t make the connection to Recursion Dyssynchrony until much later because no previous case had lasted longer than seven minutes. Scott told the doctors I was screaming in his mind for more than half an hour.”

  “God, Nicholas.” Rafael put his glass down before reaching out and squeezing Nick’s hand. “How did you learn
to live with that?”

  “I didn’t. Between that and Luscian, I needed a crutch just to keep up appearances.”

  Rafael’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of crutch?”

  “Heroin.”

  Rafael just stared at him.

  Pulling his hands free, Nick poured himself another drink. “Eventually, my friends and family banded together and forced me to stop. I moved away from Los Angeles to limit my access and appease them. But nothing was ever right again until the day Jeremy Harkness pushed me through the Gates and showed me something that made life worth living.” He sipped at his drink, outwardly calm, as he watched the Nightwalker fumble for something to say.

  Rafael considered his words carefully before speaking. “Ambassador, why don’t we go for a walk and find someplace to discuss this further? I’m actually curious to hear what you think we can do for each other.”

  Nick nodded and put his glass back down on the table. “Lead the way, Master Pilot.”

  * * *

  The two vampires silently left the room, side by side. Lieutenant Danvers watched them go. I wonder what that was all about, he thought to himself. Then he shrugged and turned back to his own conversation.

  THE SPACER GUILD

  CHAPTER 22

  December 2040; Armistice Embassy, Ottawa, Ontario; Eleven months after public exposure

  “It’s your own fault for not getting a clip-on.” Jeremy stood behind Nick, watching the Daywalker grimace into the mirror as he struggled with his tie. The Sentinel idly allowed himself to notice how fine Nick looked in the black tuxedo he was wearing to the Prime Minister’s Christmas party.

  Nick snorted and threw up his hands. “Damn it!” He tried to unknot the bow tie again. “Who the hell designed these things?”

  Jeremy rolled his eyes. What a goofball. “You’re hopeless sometimes.” Coming closer, he batted Nick’s hands away. “Here, let me.” Turning the Daywalker to face him, he began to tease apart the tangled knot Nick had made. With a few quick strokes, Jeremy deftly retied the black cloth strip and smiled. “There, you see? Nothing to it.” He smiled and then immediately frowned as he noticed a fleeting melancholy mar the carefree expression Nick always wore on stage. “What’s wrong, Nick?”

  “Nothing.” Nick avoided Jeremy’s eyes. “I just need to get moving if I’m going to make this state dinner.”

  Okay, enough is enough. Jeremy tapped him on the shoulder. “Nick, look at me.”

  The Daywalker turned to him with a sigh.

  “Why won’t you tell me what you’re thinking anymore? You’ve been growing more and more distant for months. I thought we were friends.”

  Nick looked away again. “We are friends, Jeremy. I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

  His expression thoughtful, Jeremy opened his senses wide, trying to passively read Nick’s surface thoughts without being detected. “Is this about Lorcan?” he asked gently, seeing the Nightwalker’s face flash into Nick’s mind.

  Nick’s gaze snapped back to his. “No,” he replied, too quickly.

  Jeremy frowned. I’m not imagining it then. Something was bothering Nick, but he couldn’t pry to find out what it was without ignoring the ethics Nick set such store by. Shit.I hate not knowing what’s happening behind those blue eyes. “Nick, it’s not your fault he fell for you. You didn’t know.”

  “I should have known,” Nick fiddled with his tie once more, half-heartedly this time. “If I had been paying attention, I would have seen it from the beginning. Everything changed so gradually, and I was so caught up in the sex I never even noticed what was right in front of me. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “I watched the two of you together for months, and I was even starting to like him, although we were always fighting.” Jeremy dropped onto the couch and stretched out. “You never lied to Lorcan or led him on. It’s not as if you broke his heart on purpose. Don’t wall yourself off from the people who care about you because you feel guilty that you accidentally hurt someone.”

  “I know.” Motioning for Jeremy to move over, Nick sat next to him. “Besides, Lorcan is doing fine without me. He’s fairly well-established in the Court, at least according to the reports I’ve been getting from him and our Ambassador. Hell, after all the bloodlines involved in Brion’s assassination attempt were decimated for their failure, he practically walked in and took over House Diluthical without a fight. He’s already repositioned himself to benefit from the power vacuum left by the other houses’ fall from favor. Give him a century or two and he’ll probably be running the whole show.”

  “Then what’s the problem? He’s landed on his feet. Why are you so down all the time?” Frustration crept into Jeremy’s voice. “You never laugh anymore. You practically never smile, except for the cameras.” Jeremy elbowed him casually. “I’m worried about you.”

  “It’s just that I know how it feels to love someone who doesn’t feel the same way,” Nick said softly. “I can’t stand the thought of causing that kind of pain to someone else—especially when it’s someone I actually care about. I didn’t know what I was doing to Lorcan. What if I had known? Should I have done anything differently?”

  “Why obsess over what might have happened? I don’t see why you’re wasting your time worrying about it.” Jeremy sighed, knowing Nick would just close up if he pushed the issue. “Have you given any thought to finding another line of work? I mean, seriously, you’re too tenderhearted for this job.”

  Nick frowned. “Bite me, Jer.”

  Jeremy grinned. A point for me. He could live with Nick being annoyed, just not with him being the morose zombie he’d been for the last few months. “That’s better. Lighten up.” Then he became serious again. “People get hurt. It happens. That’s just life. You’re not responsible for other people’s feelings, just your own.”

  Nick nodded as a knock sounded at the door and Ana stuck her head in. “Nick, it’s time to go.”

  “On my way.” Nick turned back to Jeremy. “Sorry you can’t come with us.”

  Jeremy gave him a lopsided smile. Yeah, right. “Extradition treaty, Nicholas. I’m stuck on Armistice territory unless I want to wind up in prison. If I get desperate for some fresh air and greenery, I can always take the gateway to the Citadel and wander around one of the arboretums.” Standing, he slapped Nick on the arm as he walked to the door. “Besides, I need to study tonight if I’m ever going to pass my final qualification exam to join Armistice Security. I can’t ride on your coattails forever. Don’t worry about me, Nick. I’m doing just fine, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  * * *

  “All right! All right! I’m coming. Keep your shirt on.” Nick chided Scott over the link as he took one last glance in the mirror and nervously straightened his tie again before heading out.

  The others were waiting in the large entrance hall of the embassy, a gothic stone mansion in the Sandy Hill neighborhood. Built by a wealthy lumber baron in the late-nineteenth century, Layla had acquired it through one of her proxies a few decades later. Of all the embassies, Nick liked this one best. Layla had allowed only limited renovations after granting Armistice Security permission to use it as a chapterhouse, so the building retained its original charm and majesty.

  Most of the administrative offices were located in an office building in the city center, but the embassy still housed the important officials from the region, as well as the Armistice Security garrison. The tasteful antique furniture and fittings Nemesis had installed at the turn of the century remained, and she had thwarted any attempt to modify her designs beyond the simple installation of electricity and communications equipment. It had been one of the few vanities she had allowed herself over the more recent centuries, and Nick was grateful for the change of pace.

  Nick entered the foyer to the sound of Ana’s foot tapping impatiently on the black marble floor.

  “Finally!” she grumbled. “I told you they wouldn’t let us teleport to the dinner. We have to drive there, and we’
re going to get stuck in traffic, thanks to you.”

  Nick grunted as he walked past her. Scott reluctantly pulled himself from the soft embrace of an antique wooden armchair and the three piled into the passenger compartment of the waiting limousine. As it pulled into traffic and headed toward the bridge, Nick stared out the window, ignoring the conversation until Scott tapped his knee. He turned to look at the two Sentinels. “What?”

  “Penny for your thoughts,” said Scott.

  He flushed, realizing he had no idea what they had been discussing. “Um, my mind was kind of blank, actually. But, hey, it’s your money.”

  “What’s going on with you?” Ana asked with a scowl.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was talking to Jeremy a couple of weeks ago,” Scott began. “He was complaining you had stopped really talking to him.”

  “He’s overreacting.”

  “That’s what I thought,” said Ana. “I hadn’t noticed any difference in your behavior until I started paying close attention. You get nervous and moody sometimes when we’re all together, but it took me a while to figure out the pattern. You only get that depressed vibe when Jer is in the room with you. He just assumed you act that way with everybody, but he’s wrong, isn’t he?”

  Scott leaned forward intently. “You’re only pushing him away, aren’t you? He just hasn’t realized it yet. What’s going on between you two?”

  Nick turned away and stared out the window. “Guys, I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “Nick,” Ana said, “we’ve taken a lot of grief because of you, and we only befriended Jer because you asked us to. But we are his friends now, so that means we watch his back and protect his interests, even from you. So speak up. Tell us what’s going on—or we let Jeremy in on the part of the picture he’s not seeing. I’m sure he won’t have any trouble finding his own answers.”