Touchpad stiffened, anger and fear quivering on his face. He had to know that eventually the Squad would get into the city and if Rick reported him, he could lose the plum position of gate keeper. Although dangerous, the job was well regarded with bonus rations and prestige inside the domed city. No one was held in higher regard except Squad members.
Pursing his lips, Touchpad backed away. “Step into decontamination,” he intoned. Moving past him, Rick caught a glance from Sami. Her eyes sparkled wickedly at him, betraying the amusement that her bland expression hid. His own lips twitched in response but he managed to hold back the smile. No need to antagonize the guard any more than necessary.
The decontamination pod closed around him, its gelatinous sides pressing and probing at his body. The air smelled musty and stale causing him to breathe as shallowly as possible. The pods were not made for comfort. He felt small stings where the pod took samples of tissue and blood. After a moment that felt like an hour the door hissed open. Rick stepped back into the regular dusty air. It never smelled as good as after a decontamination session.
The rest of the Squad filed out after him. Touchpad noted the results and with a sour look proclaimed them clean to enter the city.
Josh and the Sister climbed back into the cab. Sami scrambled into the back, disappearing under the canopy. Rick ignored the question implied by her upraised eyebrow.
“Thank you, officer, I’ll be sure to complete my report as soon as I enter the city,” Rick said to the guard.
The sour look remained as the guard signaled the gate open. So much for diplomacy, Rick thought. He climbed into the truck before it roared into the city.
As usual the sound assaulted him first. No matter how many times he entered the city after a patrol, the sound was always astonishing. The hum of generators, buzz of people talking, moving, living. Josh manuevered the truck onto the main boulevard where their progress seemed to slow to a crawl. All perception, Rick knew. Outside they drove at breakneck pace to reach any nests or infestations before the constant deadline of sundown. Here, there was no need to hurry.
As long as the shields held out, he thought, and as long as the vampires remained few in number. Only constant patrols guaranteed that.
The truck stopped. Sami climbed out and Rick followed. The familiar odor of a squad compound filled his nostrils, a mix of flesh, machinery, dust and fatigue. Home. Off in the distance, he could hear the faint pounding of music from a bar. He had an overwhelming urge to sit in the bar and drink himself silly, but he still had work to do. He turned to the other members.
“Report for your regular physicals then you’re dismissed for three days. Report back at oh nine hundred on the fourth day for our patrol orders.” He held out his hand for their report beads. One by one they dropped them into his hand. Josh grimaced as he handed his over.
“Peter,” he whispered.
“We do what we have to,” Rick said. “There isn’t any other way. Get some rest.”
The big man nodded, his shoulders drooping. Sami took his arm.
“Come on, Josh, first round is on me.” She nodded back at Rick as they walked off. He bowed his head in return. Good old Sami, she would make sure Josh didn’t say anything contrary to their reports.
“You’ll be visiting Raj’s family after you report in,” Sister Theresa said. “I’ll come with you, Rick.”
He opened his mouth to protest then stopped himself. How many times had she had to visit families to tell them of a squad member’s loss? More times than he had. Not a duty he’d wish on anyone and not one he’d volunteer to do.
“Thank you, Sister.”
The wrinkles in her face deepened as she smiled. “I’ll wait for you here.”
He left her at the door to the administrative offices. Guards intercepted him as he passed through the main door and efficiently steered him through yet another security screening. More blood tests, DNA scans and retinal scans confirmed his identity and he passed through barely pausing in step. At the end of the scan, an administrative aide met him. Tall and lean in the navy uniform of the USC, the man smiled at Rick.
“Welcome back from patrol, Captain Collins.”
“I’m reporting in after completion of patrol 7593 section 11. I have all reports from my squad members including my own. I wish to report the loss of two members and the discovery of the turning of the spotter Tracy Severin, missing in action three years ago.”
The bland expression of the aide stiffened. “This is disturbing news, Captain. You’d better come with me.”
The aide led him down the grey hallway. Their steps echoed ahead of them, sounding loud. All the doors were closed, slabs of crisp, clean white. Rick realized that he hadn’t bothered to change. The denim fabric along his arm was crusted with sweat and dried blood. He touched his cheek, felt the stubbiness of a new beard. The hair regrowth inhibiter had worn off and he hadn’t replaced it. His fingers felt griminess as well. Not exactly a polished appearance.
The aide stopped in front of the second last door on the right. A scanner along the doorframe hummed. The door clicked open and slid away. Rick followed inside the office, his steps swallowed by the thick beige carpeting. Across the expanse of the office, a large man looked up from behind the desk. His bald head sat atop a think neck that made Rick think of a frog sitting on a toadstool. Massive shoulders hunched over the desk, straining the navy fabric. In one meaty hand he held a delicate touchpen between manicured fingers. Behind him, the window looked out over the domed city, showing off the expanse of buildings stretching toward the horizon. After so long in the desert, the image startled Rick.
“What is it, Hendricks?”
“Captain Collins has a disturbing report, General Mitchell,” the aide said. He nodded to Rick.
Acutely aware of his disheveled appearance, Rick stepped forward in front of the desk.
“I’m reporting in after completion of patrol 7593 section 11. During our mission we discovered the turning of the spotter Tracy Severin, missing in action three years ago.”
Muscles along the general’s jaw quivered. “Dismissed Hendricks.”
The aide saluted and retreated from the room. The door slid shut behind him, leaving the soft hiss of ventilated air.
“Sit, Collins.” Mitchell pointed at the black padded chair across from the desk. Rick sank into the depths, felt his muscles tingle at such luxury.
“You haven’t mentioned this to anyone, have you?” the general asked.
“No sir, I just got back into the city.” Rick plucked at his shirt.
Mitchell nodded. “I want this kept under wraps. File your regular reports but leave out the sighting of Severin for now.”
Rick stiffened, the softness of the chair forgotten. “Sir, that would be altering official records...”
Mitchell held up his hand, still holding the delicate stylus. “I’m not asking you to alter anything, just leave it out of the public reports. Complete an alpha class report on Severin separately. I don’t have to tell you how something like this will affect morale.”
Rick nodded. It had been the same reason why he’d been concerned about Peter. Any turned spotter was a greater threat than twenty vampires. Who knew how many deaths Severin was responsible for?
“And it’s worse than you think. We’re having major trouble with the Council about continuing the squad patrols.”
“What?” The word burst out before Rick could stop it. Mitchell nodded, not noticing the indiscretion.
“This kind of thing will only fuel their determination. There’s been a movement of late to cancel the patrols and put all our energy into defence fortification.”
“General, I don’t mean to speak out of turn, but we have to have the patrols. It’s the only thing keeping the vampires in check.”
“I happen to agree with you, Captain, but the Council doesn’t see it that way. By their reckoning, the vampires will eventually die out, if we stop patrolling and stop supplying them with potential fresh conve
rts.” Mitchell shook his head. “I can see the point, especially with someone like Severin.”
Rick leaned forward, his hands clenching his knees. “General, some of the smaller cities have tried that. You heard about the massacre at Bevelin.”
“I know but that was a very small town and not well fortified. I agree the patrols are important, Captain, but our resources are limited and the squads put a strain on them. Most people in the cities don’t see the work you do. Out of sight, out of mind, Captain. I’m not saying it’s fair but that’s how it is and that’s how the Council is pushing it. Elections are coming up and USC appropriations are always on the agenda.”
“We’re one of the largest domes in the midwest,” Rick said. “If other cities start following our lead it will lead to disaster. Even counting such massacres as Bevelin and the occasional turned squad member, it doesn’t make up for the fact that the vampires are not dying out. And Severin led an attack on us just before dawning, trying to turn our scanner. That suggests an intelligence and planning we’ve never associated with the vampires before.”
He pulled out the data beads and set them on Mitchell’s desk. The general stirred the beads with thick fingers.
“What happened to your scanner? Peter Masterton, wasn’t it?”
“Yes sir.” Rick kept his eyes on the beads. He didn’t like lying but what other choice was there? “We lost him, sir.”
Mitchell shook his head. “Damn shame. His brother is in your unit as well. How is he holding up?”
“He’s a squad member, sir. He knows the drill.”
Rick felt Mitchell’s scrutiny. “No chance that your scanner was turned?”
“No sir. We took care of it. Just like we took care of Raj al Abulah.”
“Two lost in one patrol. That doesn’t look good, Captain.” He slipped a bead into his microreader then looked back up at Rick. “And you didn’t get Severin.”
“We were running low on supplies, general,” Rick said. “They hit us just as we were preparing to return to stock up. A well timed attack.”
Mitchell frowned, deep lines etching along his mouth and across his forehead. “This is just the kind of mess opponents of the USC will jump on.” He scooped up the beads and swept them behind his desk. “You aren’t to speak of this to anyone, Captain. As of now, your last mission is classified. You will tell the rest of your squad.”
“What about Abulah’s family? I have to tell them we lost him.”
For a moment, Rick thought the general would disagree. Then the frown lines relaxed.
“You can tell them he was lost on patrol but no details. Leave out any mention of Masterton. He doesn’t have any other family but his brother so there’s no one else to inform. Make sure you stress to your squad the importance of keeping this under wraps. I will not tolerate any breach of security.”
The sudden harshness in Mitchell’s voice chilled Rick. Damn bloody politics. Sometimes he hated coming back into the cities. At least in the desert you knew who the enemy was.
“We’ll keep it quiet, sir.”
“Dismissed, Captain.”
Mitchell turned away even before Rick reached the door. It slid open and the aide Hendricks appeared as if he’d been waiting outside the entire time. Following him back down the hall, Rick wondered if his bland expression would change if the man became a vampire. Probably not. Some people seemed bloodless even while human.
Outside the sun had gone down, leaving the parking lot lit with a soft bluish white light emanating from the tall markers. Rick felt himself hunching, hands feeling for the non-existent gun at his waist. You’re in the dome, he told himself but all instinct screamed that it was night, and the vampires came at night.
“Rick, how did it go?” Sister Theresa appeared from behind one of the markers. Her shoulders hunched against the night as well, her hands bunched in the pockets of her jacket.
“Our last mission has been classified,” he said. “We aren’t to talk about it. There is a political mess brewing.”
“Naturally.” The Sister shook her head. “Sometimes I can’t wait to be back on patrol.”
“I know that feeling. Let’s see Raj’s family and then we’ll hook up with Josh and Sami.”
The old woman fell in step beside him. They moved out of the USC compound and into the city streets. Crowds streamed around them, people hurrying home after work, hurrying off to dinner, just plain hurrying. Buildings rose around them in the gloom, lit by the hovering globe bulbs that floated over the crowds. Rick found it strange to see so many people crammed and flowing through the streets after the expanse of the desert. When had it started to seem strange? He’d grown up in the city and now it felt like alien territory. Yet, the desert with its wide spaces and sparse beauty contained death.
“Raj’s family live in the western district,” Sister Theresa said.
They moved off the main street and headed deeper into the residential western section. Here the crowds thinned and the globe bulbs were spaced farther apart, plunging the street into a calm twilight. The walkway glowed a pale yellow beneath their feet. Posh, Rick thought, watching how the walkway illuminated their path and showed off newer, cleaner buildings on either side. He vaguely remembered Raj talking about his family’s wealth.
“Nice neighborhood,” Sister Theresa said.
“I wonder why Raj would leave it for the desert,” Rick said.
“Why do any of us? Maybe he wanted to create a better world for his children.”
Rick winced. He’d carefully avoided thinking about Raj’s three children, the boys Sameel and Jobe, and his daughter, Eila. Raj carried a holo of all three dancing to an old jazz number. Eila’s dark curls bounced across Rick’s mind followed by the laughing smiles of the two boys, trying to keep up with their older sister. Jobe had a natural rhythm but Sameel was hopeless, Raj had admitted. Took after him, both Jobe and Eila took after their mother, a classically trained dancer. He was always promising to get them tickets to one of her shows.
Raj’s address turned out to be a double storey, single family dwelling. The Sister whistled her appreciation.
“I knew Raj had money, but I didn’t think it was this much,” she said.
Rick nodded. Hardly anyone lived in a separate building. The dome could only contain so much land. Most people lived in apartments, either above or below ground.
Lights glowed behind the windows, a warmth spilling out into the night. Raj had voluntarily left this behind to fight in the cold harshness of the desert. If Rick had had the option, would he have made the same choice? His own home in the dome was a single room barely larger than a closet, and because it was above ground, it was highly prized.
Dread filled him as they moved up the walkway to the front door. He had to keep telling himself this had been Raj’s decision. He’d volunteered for squad work. It didn’t help.
As they approached the door, it opened. An automatic sensor had warned of their arrival. Celeen, Raj’s wife, stood in the doorway, tall and elegant. She smiled widely and opened her arms.
“Rick, Sister, how wonderful to see you!”
As Rick stepped into the doorway, the light from the hall illuminated his face. Celeen’s smile faltered and fell away.
“Where’s Raj?”
CHAPTER SIX
How odd to stand outside in the desert at night and not have to worry about the vampires.
A breeze ruffled Peter’s hair, smelling of dust and dried vegetation. With the sky so clear even a half moon held enough light to see the desert floor and definitely enough to notice the small sensor half hidden by a small gnarled bush. He bent down, brushed dust from the thin metal casing and set about affecting repairs. Lucy had become so focused on the vaccine she had let everything else around the underground laboratory go. Now that the vampires had discovered them, they couldn’t afford to be without defenses.
He closed up the side of the sensor and ran it through a diagnostic. Slow but serviceable. It would have to do. There wou
ld be no replacements for some time. Rick had promised that the Night Killers would look in on them and pass along what they could but Peter wasn’t about to count on that. The Night Killers had their own problems to contend with.
He buried the sensor deeper into the ground. Now only the worst wind storm would affect it. Brushing his hands on his pants, he stood. After only a few weeks he was already familiar with the ground surrounding the lab. His eyes fixed on small landmarks that to an untrained eye would look completely natural but he knew that Lucy’s father had designed it just so. Easy now to see where the entrance was and where the emergency exit came out half a kilometer away.
The interior of the lab stretched much farther, layers and levels that he was only now starting to sort out. The logic of it had been organized around Lucy’s father’s own designs, not to any regular laboratory set up. A security precaution, Lucy had said, to prevent industrial espionage.
Hard to think that there had been a time when such things happened, before the vampires when regular people lived outside the domes. He remembered it from his childhood but they seemed like distant memories, as dusty as his pants. He vaguely recalled his mother leaving the house to go to work, his father tidying up in the kitchen before settling into his home office to work. When that door closed, he and Josh couldn’t bother him for any reason unless there was blood or school expulsion involved. Funny how he only remembered that now.
A cloud drifted across the sliver of moon, deepening the darkness. Peter realized he could still see the outline of the entrance perfectly. A shudder stiffened his shoulders. Some residue of vampirism? Lucy had mentioned the possibility but he hadn’t wanted to believe it. The idea opened a door of horror in his mind. How close had he come? Snatches of memory were all he had from that time, most of those he didn’t want to recall. The feeling of hunger burning inside him, the scent of blood. He remembered being able to actually smell it through Lucy’s skin as she bent over him. The sound of the handcuff snapping...
He spun away from the door, from the memory. He hated what had happened, what she’d had to do to stop him from killing her, and even then it had been so close. The power of that hunger drowned everything. Almost.
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