by E M Gale
He glared at me. I fired a considering look back.
‘OK, maybe giving away that I’m suspicious to the major is a bad idea. Why can’t I learn to keep my mouth shut?’
A break was called at that point and we went to lounge on the sofas in the merc bar and eat whatever the slop of the day was. I was pleased to see it was meaty. It seemed that after having my blood drunk I felt the need for, well, blood. And meat. Lots of meat. Luckily the lunch for the mercenaries usually catered to this need, since soldiers like protein.
“Didja hear there’s a sucker aboard?” Cliff asked the general noisy gathering of mercenaries, eating.
“Ahem.” I coughed.
“Ah… sorry, Clarke. There’s a vampire aboard.”
“Oh, Clarke, you’re not a sucker, you’re one of us!” said Stonewall, grinning.
“Aw, thanks, guys. I ’preciate it,” I said, in between mouthfuls of beef stew.
“Have you met him?” asked Cliff.
I nodded.
“What’s he like?” asked Cliff.
I paused to think for a moment. “Annoying.” They laughed at that. “Have you guys not seen another vampire?” I asked. Most of them shook their heads.
“Don’t vamps have to challenge each other to mortal combat when they meet?” asked Tim.
‘Do we? I don’t think so. That ought to have been in vampire biology 101. Or would it be vampire sociology 101? Still, Price hasn’t challenged me.’
“That’s ninjas. Not vampires,” I said drily. “Do I look like a ninja?”
“Well, they both strike from the shadows,” said Petey. I sniggered at that.
“Nah, I usually leave the light on actually. Guys like to watch.” They laughed at that too.
“Clarke,” called the major, sticking his head round the door to the bar. “Can you come to my office when you’ve finished eating?”
I nodded.
‘Office, eh? Not bedroom this time.’
“And it’s my bloody break time too,” I grumbled.
I headed to the major’s office. I suspected I was going to be asked if Price was planning to mutiny. That or I was going to get a talk about my timekeeping. I sighed, not sure which was worse.
‘Unless they’ve discovered some weapons are missing? But how would they know I have them? Or am I in trouble for questioning the major too much about smuggling?’
I pushed open the door to the office. The major looked calm but smelt slightly anxious, and Cleckley was there too, grinning at me.
‘No, I’m not going to be experimented on. Don’t even think about it, Cleckley.’
The major’s office was like his room: Spartan, clean and without stupid fripperies like a carpet. He sat behind a barren desk. There was a chair placed in front of it which I flopped down into.
“Hi, Clarke,” said Cleckley. “Why didn’t you tell me he was the vampire?”
I laughed.
“I thought it was funny.” I thought for a moment. “And why didn’t you notice? You clocked me as soon as I grinned.”
“‘Clocked’?” he queried. “You do have an odd way of speaking.”
“Realised. Figured out,” I said, waving my hand around the meaning.
“I was looking to see if you were one.”
“Why?”
“The orcs told me you were.”
‘Oh.’
“Them orcs are clever, aren’t they,” I said.
“Not surprising, given they’ve been to war against the vampires twice now.”
‘Eh? So there were two orc-vampire wars? But if that’s the case, why do all the orcs like me? And why does everyone keep telling me I like them? Shouldn’t we be enemies?’
“Clarke, I was hoping you could tell us more about the vampire,” said the major.
“What, will he mutiny, you mean?”
“Who said anything about mutiny?” Now he looked suspicious.
‘Oh, dear.’
“Well, that’s what the captain was worried about when I came aboard.”
“The captain’s just… cautious.”
“Paranoid,” I countered.
“Well, Clarke, the vampire? What’s he like?”
‘Hmm, well, delicious. Heh, they probably don’t want to know that.’
“Annoying,” I said.
The major raised his eyebrows.
“But I don’t have an ancient blood feud with him. Not yet anyway,” I added with a grin.
“Anything else you noticed?”
I sighed. “He’s rude. He called me mercenary–”
“Um, well… Clarke–” said Cleckley.
“He doesn’t like mercs, you see. He wants to be on a fast ship. He’s smooth. Phlegmatic. Good at small talk. Subtle. Incredibly annoying. Rude.”
“That’s roughly what Doctor Cleckley said,” remarked the major.
I continued: “Charming. Yeah, he’s charming. And he managed not to laugh at Anna when she asked him what a vampire looked like.” I thought for a moment. “He’s slightly condescending. Arrogant. Sardonic. Emotionless. Phlegmatic. Um… Did I say rude?”
They nodded.
“Hmm, oh, calm and composed. Well-educated. Cultured, even. Unruffled.” That was a pretty good description, I thought.
Cleckley looked amused. “Any other adjectives you want to throw out?”
“Laconic. Overly calm. Sarcastic. Rude.”
‘I think I’m repeating myself now.’
“Do you know what he’s up to?” asked the major. I think he was bored of improving his vocabulary.
“He didn’t say.”
The major leaned forward. “Clarke, we go back a long way.”
‘Uh… do we? And he couldn’t have mentioned this past history before? I know my future self has met him before, is that a ’long way’? How long did she meet him for?’
“Is he a danger to this ship?”
‘Odd thing to ask.’
“Well…” I started. Then a thought struck me. “Why are you guys so paranoid about vampires? Just ’cos someone likes to drink blood doesn’t mean that they want to shoot up mercenaries.” I was quite puzzled and I thought the major could read it on my face.
“I just like to check these things.”
‘An old army habit perhaps?’
“Well… I don’t know if he is or isn’t. I don’t think he picked this ship for any particular reason. He doesn’t look like a smuggler or a pirate to me.”
‘Not that I’d know what they look like.’
“He doesn’t look like a… fighter either. More a philosopher.”
‘Or an idiot.’
I sighed.
‘Definitely an idiot.’
“But I don’t know.” I waved my hands up in the air. “I don’t really understand him.” I thought a bit more. “And he has a stupid name.”
‘Well, that’s not his fault. And it’s probably not his real name anyway.’
The major leaned back in his chair. He nodded and looked more relaxed.
“Do you think he would be willing to let me, uh…” started Cleckley.
“Experiment on him?” I said with a raised eyebrow. “Damned if I know. Ask him yourself.”
“Anything else you think we should know?” asked the major.
‘Ah, clever, a very open-ended question. He’s delicious. But annoying.’
I shook my head.
“OK, Clarke, you’re dismissed.”
* * *
I wandered along and knocked on Anna’s door. She opened it, her hair half pinned up and wet, a pair of hair-straighteners in her hands.
“Eek, keep those things away from me!” I said in mock fear.
She sighed. “Come in, Clarke, how’s it going?”
I shrugged, looking around her room. “Do you have even more lotions?” Every spare surface was covered in makeup, toiletries and bottles of strange-smelling lotions. I moved some tour books and magazines onto the floor to sit on the sofa.
Anna sat down n
ext to me and continued to stretch her hair out with the hair-straighteners. The room smelt of burning damp hair, acrid hair product and Anna’s vanilla perfume. Bleurgh.
“So, what’s up? How’s being a grunt?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Better than last week. Anyway, have a look at this.” I handed her the Beginning Orcish book. “What do you think?”
“Well”–she balanced it in her lap, flicked it on and paged through the contents, all the time pulling her head off-centre with her aggressive ironing of her bob–“it’s a book about learning orcish.”
I nodded. I knew that.
“You planning to learn it?”
‘Is that not obvious?’
“Yup. And… um…”
She put the tongs down and picked up makeup sponges.
“What?”
“Say, are you interesting in learning it? I could really do with some help and words just seem to stick in the flypaper of your brain.”
She wrinkled her nose, at my metaphor, I think. I picked up the hair straighteners and started snapping them together.
“Well, I’m learning Bec-aj at the moment.”
I sniffed the hair tongs. They smelt like burnt hair.
“Well, why not learn orcish too?” I was snapping the hair irons in the air like Pac-Man moving down a corridor.
“There’s more Kreegle colonies out in this bit of space.” She frowned and took the straighteners off me. “I don’t understand why you’re so fascinated with my irons.”
“Why would anyone put something that hot on their hair? And why straighten it anyway?”
“Well, don’t play with them, they’re expensive.” Anna sighed. “I’ve had to replace everything, I’m pretty much cleaned out until payday.”
I looked at all her cosmetic toys. “Well, you don’t need it all, you could have just bought some eyeliner and been done with it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I look far too pale without foundation and blusher.”
“You know, if you need more money–”
“Ah, you don’t need to offer, Clarke.”
I grinned. “I was going to suggest you could… perhaps… buy orcian coffee and sell it to the orcs.”
She frowned at me. “Is that what you’re doing?”
I shook my head. “No, they nick it from me.”
“Are you allowed to have orcian coffee?”
“Of course, of course.” I pointed at the language guide. “So are you up for it?”
Anna sighed. “OK, let’s see…” She was flicking through the guide. “Oh, OK, there’s two languages, Standard Orcish, which looks like it has a pretty regular subject-object-verb structure, and then there’s Poetic Orcish, which is really irregular.”
I nodded. “I reckon I only need to know the basics.”
She frowned and tapped the language guide. “It says here you need to know both to communicate properly.”
I shrugged. “I’ll just say simple things.” I smiled at her. “I only want to be able to speak to my s mates–”
“Oh, just instructions then?”
“More dirty jokes.”
She rolled her eyes. “OK, I’ll help you.” I grinned.
“Thanks. And anyway, I’m asking for a favour, I’m happy to pay you.”
‘Best not reveal where I’m getting my money from!’
“I’ve not been spending my money really, and this will take up some of your time.”
She nibbled her bottom lip.
“Dunno what the going rate is for language tuition. What do you want to charge?”
She sighed and shook her head. “I can’t.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Really, Anna, it’s fine, I’d expect payment if you wanted me to teach you maths or sword-fighting or–”
“No, it’s not that. We’re not allowed to have part-time jobs.”
I stared at her. “So?”
“So you can’t pay me.”
I frowned. “But this doesn’t count, surely. There’s hardly any divided loyalties or anything, ’cos we’re just talking about practising vocab.”
She shook her head. “I could do with the money, but we have to follow the rules.”
I shrugged. Anna always had liked following the rules. I’d often wondered why. Did she expect some reward from the captain?
“Leave the book with me, Clarke, and I’ll come see you in a few days and we’ll get started.”
‘Oh, well, free lessons!’
“Thanks, Anna, you’re a star.”
She smiled. I got up.
“I’d better rush, don’t want to be late for the next shift.”
“Sure, I’ll see you in the bar later.”
I grinned and nodded and put my hand to the door. As I walked out I said: “And, er, I told them I could already speak it, so if anyone asks, I’m already fluent, and I’m teaching you, OK?”
“What? Clarke–”
And then I was off.
* * *
Mark was loitering outside my quarters. As I walked up he knocked on the door, and then, hearing me, turned round and grinned.
“You have something then?” I asked, as I let him in.
He nodded. “Several somethings.” He made himself comfortable on the sofa.
I nodded.
“But first tell me what you found out.”
I stared.
‘What did I find out?’
“Uh, I’m sure I said I didn’t have anything.”
Mark frowned. “No, you had some information.”
I chewed on my knuckle. “Uh… I can’t remember… I don’t think it panned out.”
“You sure? You were investigating the marines.”
‘What did I have? I’ve stopped investigating because of my future self.’
“I’m sorry, I guess I’ve been distracted.”
‘Yeah, by Price.’
“I s’pose I found out that Price is an idiot. Um, and the major’s trustworthy, so I think this ship’s OK.”
Mark looked confused. “So now you don’t think it’s worth investigating the ship? Just because you’ve slept with your boss?”
I stared at him. “What? Where’d you get that from?”
He sighed. “I guessed.”
“Oh.”
“And I take it Mr Price didn’t want to sleep with you.”
I stared at him.
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea to sleep with a vampire anyway. What if you catch it?”
“Uh… I’m sure I’ll cope.”
“Nah, I don’t see it myself. I don’t think mysterious and stand-offish would suit you.”
I grinned. “I think that’s just him, not his vampirism.”
Mark shrugged. “Anyway, I don’t think he has anything to do with what this ship is up to. I’m disturbed. I looked at the crew manifest–”
He eyed me here.
“Are you sure there’s not something you want to tell me?”
I stared.
‘Shit, like what?’
“I told you all I know.”
He sighed. “Well, you, for instance, are on the crew manifest as ‘Field Conscript Maria Clerk’ and Clerk is spelt C L E R K.”
“What? But why? My log-in is ‘Clarke’ with an ‘a’ and the sims room has my real name.”
Mark shrugged. “See, it’s odd.”
“Who writes the crew manifest?”
“Not a clue. But there’s more.”
I waved my hand at him to go on.
“When I was checking your login for the sims rooms, which as you noticed is correct, I found a whole list of other usernames. And I cross-referenced most of them with the crew list and from the rest I could find out how many people had signed on to this ship–everyone gets a login in the sims room–and when they left.”
‘Mark’s pretty good at this stuff.’
“And there’s been a lot of churn. I don’t know if this is usual or not. I guess most are mercenaries or passengers, but the week before we
got on this ship around fifteen names stopped accessing the sims room. Ten of those names had been accessing the sims room for the last eight months.”
“Eight months? What happened before that?”
He shrugged. “This ship only launched eight months ago.”
I chewed on my knuckle.
‘I guess it hasn’t occurred to me to ask. It’s brand new and the crew’s not been here long then. How long is the average lifespan of a ship?’
“I dug a little deeper,” continued Mark, “and found an old crew manifest and ten of the names are original staff. People I wouldn’t expect to leave, like the bridge commander and one of the navigators. I don’t know what happened or why they left.”
“Ah, that’d be the pirate attack.”
“What? Which pirate attack? Why did they leave? When was this?”
“They died. Before we came aboard, pirates attacked the ship, got past the mercs and threw a grenade in the bar as they ran past.”
Mark was staring at me.
“And there was an entire shift rotation chilling with after-work drinks.”
“What?”
“So now, when the alarms go off the door to the bar and bridge automatically lock. I don’t know if they’ve done engineering as well.”
“You knew this?”
“Yeah, Cleckley told me.”
“Bloody hell, Clarke, you promised you’d tell me what you knew!”
“Uh, I forgot.”
“You forgot to mention the deaths of ten people?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Bloody hell, Clarke, tell me the rest.”
“What?”
“I know you’re holding out on me. Tell me everything you know or you’re going to get zip from me.”
“You have more?”
“Clarke, come on, I know you know more.”
“No, I don’t.”
“We agreed to share information and work together and you kept all this from me.”
“Sorry. I forgot, OK? So what else did you find out?”
“Clarke, I know what you know, so why are you still trying to keep it secret?”
‘What does he know? He surely doesn’t know I am a vampire?’
I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“No, you don’t know which secret I mean, that’s it, isn’t it? What are you trying to hide?”
“Nothing. I told you I don’t know anything else, I just forgot about what Cleckley told me.”
