by E M Gale
“Vampires.”
He raised an eyebrow and looked eager. “OK.”
“Did you… you know I hate the phrase ‘do experiments on’?”
He nodded.
“I know scientists, surely you could understand why I’d not want to be a lab rat? I’ve seen how Rob does experiments.”
“Ah, so you want to talk about Rob.”
“Eh?” I frowned.
‘Why would I? I’ve forgiven him, obviously, what else is there to talk about?’
“No, I’m trying to talk about Price.”
“Ah,” said Cleckley.
“And what experiments you did on him. For starters”–I held my hand up to tick the questions off on my fingers–“what did he agree to? What did you do? And what was the outcome?”
“Oh, he very politely and firmly told me he would have nothing to do with it.”
“What?”
‘But yesterday…’
“And he seemed surprised that you would have agreed to it,” said Cleckley.
I stared at him wonderingly. “Oh, so you told him that.”
He nodded.
‘Probably not the best idea. I suspect that the other vampires won’t be happy with me discussing this sort of stuff with a human doctor. In all the papers they were very careful not to give anything away.’
“Mmm.”
‘Is that all you can say, Cleckley? You’ve probably gotten me into trouble!’
I shook my head and let it go. “When did he change his mind?”
“What? Mr Price?” Cleckley looked confused.
“I thought he had agreed to be experimented on?”
“No.” Cleckley shook his head. I just stared at him.
‘But… what the hell? Why did Cleckley say he had before? There’s something very strange going on here.’
“Cleckley…”
‘I should ask him if he remembers telling me that Price agreed. But what if he doesn’t remember? He’s… forgotten. Price did something, didn’t he? I can’t risk letting Cleckley figure out that Price did something to make him forget. No one would ever trust me again.’
“OK… Tell me about you and Anna meeting him yesterday, please,” I said to try to attack the problem obliquely. He didn’t seem suspicious which was good.
‘Hey, does Cleckley trust me?’
“Well, he was polite, cultured, charming and pleasant, if a little reserved,” he said.
I grinned. “Just rude to me, huh?”
Cleckley shrugged. “Perhaps. He didn’t seem particularly interested in vampirism. Although I suppose a vampire normally wouldn’t be.”
I shrugged at that.
‘I’m interested, but Price obviously has something else going on. Or maybe it’s because he knows more than me. I am being educated by him.’
“Did he tell you about his death?” I asked.
“He mentioned it. He is very young, you know.”
I nodded.
“Did you know that vampires have one of the highest standard deviations of lifespan of any species?” Cleckley really was a biology geek in addition to being a doctor.
“Subspecies,” I said. It was becoming almost automatic. Why it mattered to me whether I was a separate species or subspecies, I don’t know.
“Yes. Although there is some debate about whether they are truly a separate species.”
“Eh?”
“Speciation is when two subspecies can no longer breed with each other.” He smiled.
“OK, this conversation just got weird.”
“Well, can vampires breed with humans?”
‘I don’t know. They can have sex, but they’re supposed to be dead, aren’t they?’
“You’re asking? It depends quite what you mean.”
“I’m asking. So, Clarke, how are vampires made?”
“Eh? You mean you don’t know?”
‘I’m not sure I know. I’m not supposed to turn until I died, but I turned before and now I’m some sort of Founder-thingy.’
“Obviously, you don’t become a vampire by being bitten by one,” said Cleckley. I eyed him cautiously.
“Is that common knowledge then?”
He looked at me oddly.
“In the medical world, I mean,” I said, waving my hand around.
“Well…” He trailed off.
“You were somewhat freaked out when you cut yourself on my teeth.”
He nodded.
“And I say ‘you cut yourself’, not ‘I bit you’, because I didn’t bite you and what do you expect when you shove your thumb into someone’s mouth and they have sharp teeth?”
He laughed. “I never said that you bit me.”
“Good. Still, you did freak out, splashing iodine or whatever everywhere.”
“I was just being… cautious,” he said, looking a little embarrassed.
“Of course, wouldn’t want to become a blood-sucking child of the night, now would you?”
“No,” he said, then eyed me to see if I was offended, nodded and continued the discussion. “So to become a vampire, I would need to drink a vampire’s blood. How?”
I grinned. “Generally the first step is to go home with one.”
“Do you have any”–he hunted for a word–“offspring, I guess is the term?”
I stared at him.
‘Maybe. I have no idea.’
“Er, forget I said anything.”
‘Great, now he thinks that’s a sore point.’
I nodded slowly, a little disturbed.
‘Maybe I do. It has been two hundred years. Wow. I wonder what it would be like to meet them.’
Cleckley changed the subject. “But if vampires create vampires from humans, where did the first vampire come from?”
‘Hmm, good question.’
“Where did the first humans come from?” I asked.
“Unless you’re overly theological, they evolved from apes.”
‘Huh… So vampires must have evolved from humans? How? Some humans are born as vampires? Hold on, or humans who turn into vampires… spontaneously, before they die. A living vampire. They have a heartbeat and can create vampiric offspring from humans, who change after they die. A Founder. Shit, is that what I am?’
Cleckley was staring at me, and I got the feeling he had been for some time before I had noticed.
“What did you just figure out?” he asked.
‘Argh! Can I not hide anything? What can I say?’
“Nothing. My mind wandered,” I said, trying to communicate a verbal shrug.
“C’mon, Clarke, what?”
‘To tell him or not?’
“I just got a hunch, that’s all. Not enough to say.”
He looked curious.
“Sorry.”
He decided to leave it. He leaned back, eyeing me, then sighed.
“Anyway, I was saying vampires can live a very long time, but as I suspect that many don’t, they have a high standard deviation in lifespan.”
“Huh.”
“So if you survive your first five years you’re probably OK,” he added with a grin.
I shook my head. “Surely if you survive overeager crematorium assistants and manage to avoid mobs with burning torches you’re OK.”
He laughed at that. “Did they really come after vampires wielding torches?” he asked, still chuckling.
‘Technically, I have no idea, but a hell of a lot of people were burnt at the stake in the medieval ages. Then there was the Ku Klux Klan. I suspect it doesn’t take much to get a torch-wielding mob chasing after the people who are… different.’
“Every generation has its witch burnings, but not all use torches,” I said darkly.
Cleckley choked off his mirth and looked thoughtful.
“Anyway… Coffee,” I said, to stop him from starting a conversation about history.
“What?” He tended to get confused by sudden changes of topic.
“Orcian coffee. What do you know about it?�
�
His lip curled up in a half-smile.
“Ah, great stuff. Illegal on most planets, not including orcian colonies, of course.”
I nodded.
‘Well, that’s why it’s called orcian coffee.’
“Why’s it illegal?” My research on contraband hadn’t explained the legislators’ reasoning.
“It contains a lethal dose of caffeine along with some other nasty stuff.”
“Oh.”
“If you drink a little it’s OK, but drink too much and it builds up in your system and it does all sorts of strange things associated with over-stimulation. The patient gets nervous and jittery, their muscles spasm and they start to be unable to form lasting memories. If too much is drunk it leads to permanent mental damage and eventually death.”
‘Oh. I’m OK, I only have about two or three cups a day.’
“How much is a little?” I thought I ought to check anyway.
“About half a cup every two days.”
I nodded slowly. “Ah. And, say, just for instance, at a cup a day, how long would it take to kill someone?”
“About a week, but you’d notice it beforehand. Caffeine is a poison, you know.”
‘I do now!’
“And the early symptoms of caffeine poisoning?” I asked in a small voice.
He looked at me here and grabbed my wrist and took my pulse.
“Same as before.” He leaned in close to look at my eyes, of all things. “Do you have any headaches? Shortness of breath? Muscle spasms? Jitteriness?”
I shook my head.
“Can you remember what you had for lunch yesterday?”
“Meaty slop-of-the-day.” Although that proved nothing. I had that every day. “And who said I’d been drinking any of this stuff?”
“Well, why else would you ask?” Cleckley put his hand on my forehead for some reason, then picked up my hand and twiddled my fingers around a bit.
I rolled my eyes. “Obviously, I would ask about it before I tried some strange alien drink.”
‘Maybe I should have. Meh.’
“Really?” He looked at me sharply. The guy was not fooled. “Being cautious doesn’t seem to fit your personality.” He let my hand drop to the table with a thunk.
“Well”–I shrugged–“so maybe I have tried it… once or twice. Is it lethal to normal vampires?”
“I don’t know if they drink it but I can’t imagine that much caffeine would be good for them.”
“Huh.”
He leaned in close again, looked at me reassuringly, then he smiled and nodded to make me feel that everything was going to be OK. “How much have you had?”
‘Ah, he has a good bedside manner. I don’t feel like I’m about to be told off, but then again my mother affected that sort of manner to get me to confess before she’d rain down hellfire upon my head.’
“Well…” I leaned back. “Let’s just say a little more than half a cup every two days.”
“How much more?”
I coughed.
“Come on now, I’m your doctor.”
“I don’t remember agreeing to that.”
“I’m the only doctor on ship, so you’re mine,” he said with a scary grin.
‘Great.’
I leaned back more.
“Technically,” I said, holding up my index finger, “Rob’s a doctor.”
“Would you like me to leave you to him to deal with next time you get staked?” He grinned, “I thought you didn’t want to be one of his experiments?”
‘Yeah, good point.’
“OK, OK.” I held my hands up. “About two or three cups on a good day.”
“Ah,” he said, shaking his head, presumably at my stupidity. Many medical doctors have done that to me. “Do you get an effect from it?”
“Yeah, of course, and it tastes nice. I had it with sugar to begin with, ’cos it tasted rough, but I like it without now.”
“Have you ever tried normal coffee?”
I nodded.
“Either I was wrong and caffeine has no effect on vampires and it’s just psychological, or you have an increased tolerance to caffeine.”
I frowned and chewed on my knuckle. “I see. I shall drink normal coffee and see if it has an effect, then.”
He nodded. “Although I did think that the only people who could tolerate that much caffeine were the orcs.” He shrugged, then grinned. “Well, since it’s not killed you yet, I suppose it’s not lethal.”
I smiled. “I love the way you practice medicine, Cleckley.”
He smiled back. “If you get any odd symptoms, like uncontrollable shakes or death, then stop drinking it and come and tell me.”
“OK,” I said brightly.
“So, has he apologised to you yet?”
“Who? Price?”
“No, although has he?”
“Nah, he wouldn’t.”
‘Damned annoying guy. I wonder if I’ll see him tonight. I wonder if he’s hungry. Does that mean he’s living off me for this voyage? That’s rather gross, but fun.’
‘And why doesn’t he want to sleep with me? Or can’t he? Perhaps male vampires can’t.’
“I was talking about Rob,” said Cleckley.
“Oh, that. You saw that.”
“The whole bar did.”
I threw my hands up in despair. “All the marines were trying to forget about the damned Kreegle pirates and he comes over and starts his whole ‘be an engineer’ spiel.”
“‘Marines’?” queried Cleckley.
“Eh? What?” I stared at him, stunned.
‘Who said anything about marines?’
“Don’t worry,” he said with a smile.
I nodded, then sighed, thinking about Rob. “Why doesn’t he just drop it?” I looked at Cleckley. “Did you speak to him about it?”
“Why would I?”
I sighed in exasperation. “You could. You’re friends, right?”
He shrugged.
“Well, you’ve drunk together in the bar, so that’s close enough. You got me this job and the captain made it clear I’d have to be a merc.”
“What else did you expect?”
“OK, that’s fine. But my friends don’t know who I am… so it’s hard to explain to them why I would do that job without having to explain too much.” I sighed.
“Really?” Cleckley looked surprised. I eyed him closely. “You’re obviously cut out for that job.”
‘Why? What’s wrong with me?’
“Even if I were a normal human?” I asked in amazement.
He nodded.
‘Oh, a vote of confidence.’
“Really?”
“Of course. With your experience.”
‘Ah, that. Shame I don’t have any really.’
“Well, whatever. Nice chatting to you, Cleckley.” I stood up, scraping the chair back.
“Are you going to the bar for a drink?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m off-shift, so do you mind if I come along?”
I grinned. “’Course not.”
We left his office and walked up to the bar.
“By the way, does alcohol affect you?” he asked.
“Eh?”
“Well, caffeine might not. So maybe alcohol doesn’t.”
I laughed. “Ah, yeah. I had a monster hangover last week.” I felt pale at the memory. “It was like I’d been run over by a stampede of orcs.”
We arrived at the bar. Cleckley bought me a wine and I stretched my feet out in a posture of relaxation. The others wandered in from their shift.
“Hey, guys,” I said with a smile. Rob was looking sullen. I looked at him and he studied the tabletop.
‘No apology then? Oh, well, be like that.’
I crossed my arms and shook my head at him. Even when Rob was trying to be morose, his expansive personality filled the room. Anna was looking at him worriedly and Jane shook her head and tutted at him.
I just stared at him. He was o
bviously pissed off. I wasn’t really sure at what. I wasn’t annoyed with him any more, and I didn’t think he would mention working in engineering again. But I just looked at him, slouching his rangy body over the table, looking annoyed. I uncrossed my arms and remembered what I had read: ‘Robert Deegen, missing in action, presumed dead. Aged fifty-five.’
‘Not a bad run of things, but not the longest life. And he has so much to do, so much energy, so much life in him. I know it was a war, and I guess spaceships go missing in wars. But goddammit, I don’t want him to die!’
‘Can he avoid it? Can I stop him from getting on that bloody ship?’
Jane distracted me from further consideration of the machinations of the fates by waving her hand at me to attract my attention. She smiled a falsely encouraging smile. I noticed that her blonde, curly hair had picked up the smell of her cigarettes and released it again when she shook her head or waved her arms about.
“Clarke…” she started.
“Yup,” I said, eyeing her suspiciously, wondering if Anna had reported my comment about her not liking me. Jane didn’t, but that wasn’t really the sort of thing that you were supposed to say.
“I don’t like you,” she said.
Anna was looking stunned. People just didn’t say things like that in her world.
I laughed. “Honesty. I like it.”
“But I need a favour,” she continued.
‘Stupid way to ask for it.’
“Uh-huh,” I grunted.
“I’ll make it worth your while.” She leant forwards, piercing me with her green-grey eyes.
‘More useful, but what do you have to bribe me with? orcian coffee? Transfusion blood? Or good old cold, hard cash?’
“Uh-huh,” I said warily.
She looked around at everyone else on the table. They were looking a little shocked at this and were just staring at her. She leaned in closer to me.
“I want some cigarettes.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Well… buy some? They’re only illegal on New California.”
‘Heh, I know contraband from my research.’
“Yes, I know that,” she said irritably. “But they’re really rather expensive with all the health tax. I can’t afford them on my pay here.”
I nodded. She looked at me pleadingly.
‘What the hell does she want me to do about it?’
“I’m not quite sure what you want me to do about it,” I said, frowning.
“You’ve quit, haven’t you?” asked Anna.
