“I remember the impalings,” she said, feeling a chill pass through her.
“That is what happens to someone as soon as they lose his trust,” said Iroto.
“Then we shall share our happy news with him forthwith,” she said, “and ask his gracious permission to name the baby ‘Vlad’ if it is a boy and ‘Elzbieta’ if it is a girl, in honor of our benefactors.”
“Where have you learned such duplicity?” he teased.
Soueti shook her head. “Not duplicity, my love, but survival.”
UNREQUITED
Court of Mehmed II, Ottoman Empire
Gevherhan watched as the thin, slight youth stepped to the mark and pulled back his oversized bow. The assembled courtiers erupted in wild applause when the bullseye was struck. The youth’s muscular competitors stood in sullen, jealous silence as he threw back his head and laughed.
“I give you the winner, Tariq!” a court official shouted.
Gevherhan approached Tariq with downcast eyes. “As daughter of Mehmed, I declare Tariq the winner and bestow upon him this prize from my father.”
Placing the pouch in Tariq’s hands, she briefly stroked his palms with her fingertips. Ignoring the gesture, Tariq bowed as he accepted the prize and addressed those present.
“Praise be to Allah, who directed my arrow to such good fortune!” he exclaimed.
He did not open the pouch, since it was common knowledge that it contained five gold ducats.
“Allah looks favorably on your arrows alone, it would seem,” laughed Mehmed, seated at his throne.
“And may He continue to do so,” added Gevherhan as she continued to gaze at Tariq, which attracted a curious look from Mehmed.
*******
“Your eyes never leave that boy,” said Gevherhan’s old maidservant, Fatima. “The entire palace sees it, including your father. Tariq is not for you. He is the son of a scribe.”
“And you are a slave,” snapped Gevherhan, “purchased before I was born and just as easily put on the market again if I tell my father you displease me. How would you like to bark out advice from a work gang?”
Fatima fell silent, but her haughty facial expression remained as she brushed Gevherhan’s hair.
“Leave me,” said Gevherhan, waving her away.
Once Fatima was gone, Gevherhan picked up the brush and studied her reflection in the mirror. She did not consider the possibility that Tariq was not attracted to her.
He shares Fatima’s sentiments. I will give him hope.
Seated at her elaborate writing desk, she began a composition on fresh, unblemished parchment. It took several tries to adequately express what she felt. With each failed attempt, she crumpled up a parchment and threw it aside. Finally, she was satisfied she had captured the tone she wished to convey.
Arrow released, target struck. Heart pierced, skin untouched. Determined eyes that never see. What your presence means to me. Exquisite torture, no release. All encompassing, ne’er to cease.
Happy with her composition, she wrote her name at the bottom with a heart around it. Next to the heart she drew an arrow in flight above the name ‘Tariq.’
The next morning, Fatima stopped a servant girl as she was leaving Gevherhan’s room with a basket. Suspicious that the girl had stolen something, she demanded to see the contents.
“Her Highness ordered me to dispose of this paper,” said the girl. “She was most insistent.”
“Perfectly good parchment to be destroyed?” asked Fatima as she snatched the basket from her. “Why, it’s barely written on! Large parts of it can be salvaged. Her Highness has no conception of the value of things she so readily discards. I will see to this matter.”
DECEPTION
Cloaked Lifeboat, Outskirts of Bazna
All dead! And this was to be the week of the harvest!
Chaluxi slowly walked past each row that had been meticulously dug to receive the hemo-sprouts by the hopeful but weakened Vambir four weeks ago. Last night he saw thick buds that were within days of yielding hemo-blooms, but now only shriveled husks remained. Something had caused the plants to suddenly die.
The ultraviolet rays of this sun are more intense than on Vambiri, but if that was the cause, then there should have been a gradual decline.
There was only one explanation: sabotage.
He walked to the surveillance drone to check whether the perimeter alert had been activated, and a malfunction message appeared. Kneeling next to the withered plants, he bent down and sniffed.
Rocket fuel! This was not done by a Primitive.
*******
The Vambir patiently waited in line for hemo-ration distribution. The population had been divided into six groups, with each receiving their daily ration at four-hour intervals. All eyes were locked on the Enforcers as they entered the mess hall with the storage containers.
“The nectar ration count was off,” announced an Enforcer. “There is not enough for everyone. The tubes must now be divided into half doses for distribution tomorrow.”
“What do you mean the count was off?” demanded one of the waiting Vambir.
The Enforcer shrugged. “Yesterday’s didn’t match today’s,” he explained. “The one who made the first count collapsed from fatigue. Today’s ration will consist of hemo-wafers. Half a wafer each.”
There was a collective groan from those waiting: wafers were less nourishing than nectar. The Enforcers broke the wafers in half and gave a piece to each outstretched hand. Mazja had decreed that no one was to partake until everyone had their ration in hand and a signal was given. This prevented a rush to be first in line, and anyone breaking this rule would be excluded from ration distribution for a day. So far, the Vambir had been compliant, but as their hunger escalated it became harder to control their cravings. Those who had wafers in their hands stood watching the others make their way through the line. When the last wafer had been distributed, one of the Vambir ravenously consumed his.
“You there!” exclaimed the Enforcer. “You are barred from rations for a day!”
“I waited until everyone had theirs!” he protested.
“You did not wait for the signal,” replied the Enforcer. “If you don’t wait for the signal, then why should anyone else? The rule was put in place to prevent the chaos your actions would cause.”
“No!” cried the Vambir. “I can’t last a day without rations! I—”
His words were cut short as he began to convulse. His eyes bulged and his pale skin began to darken. Those standing closest to him backed away in fear as they saw black rivulets of putrid liquid emerge from his eyes and ears.
“Something’s wrong with the wafers!” yelled the Enforcer as he summoned a medical team on his palmcom. “Don’t eat them!”
Kevak’s palmcom buzzed as the sirens began to wail. Reading the message, he could not imagine what had happened.
EMERGENCY IN MESS HALL. POISONING.
As soon as he and the lab technicians had cleared decontamination, they ran to assist. By the time they reached the scene, the Vambir who had prematurely ingested the wafer was dead. Acrid steam rising from his blackened remains forced the evacuation of the hall.
“What happened?” asked Kevak.
“The one who died broke protocol and ate his wafer before the signal was given,” said the Enforcer.
“Where are the wafers that were distributed?” asked Kevak.
“Reclaimed, Navigator, in the same storage container they came from,” answered the Enforcer.
“Good,” said Kevak. “I’ll take them back to the lab for immediate analysis. In the meantime, halt all—”
“In the meantime, Navigator Kevak is under arrest!”
It was Mazja, accompanied by Urit and two Enforcers, who placed Kevak in restraint cuffs.
“What are you doing, Commander?” asked Kevak.
Urit opened the storage container and sniffed. He then turned abruptly to Kevak and struck him hard across the face.
“Four-
legs, Commander,” he said to Mazja. “Four-legs!”
Mazja turned to address the Vambir. “A short time ago it was brought to my attention that the nectar ration count was deficient by thirty tubes. I ordered a search of all quarters, and that exact number was found hidden in the air vent of the Navigator’s unit.”
“Why, Commander?” demanded Kevak. “Why would I do such a thing?”
“You obviously miscalculated, Navigator, about the time it would take the Four-leg substance to kill a Vambir,” answered Urit. “Once everyone had ingested the tainted wafers, you would have been left with a plentiful supply for yourself.”
The starving Vambir fell upon Kevak. Weak from malnutrition, their collective rage gave them the strength required to strike him. Mazja said nothing as they pummeled him continuously.
Hearing the violent commotion, Chaluxi ran to the mess hall. “What has happened? Why are they attacking the Navigator?”
“Missing nectar tubes were found in his quarters,” explained one of them. “He poisoned the hemo-wafers with the substance from the Four-legs!”
Mazja ordered the Enforcers to prevent the Vambir from further attacking Kevak. “We are fortunate that there was only one fatality. If our fallen comrade had waited until the signal, then the entire group would have perished.”
“And were it not for me having ingested the Primitive substance, I would have never had the ability to detect the tainted wafers,” bragged Urit.
“He was just about to take the container of tainted wafers back to the lab,” remembered the Enforcer who had overseen the ration distribution.
“Of course he was,” said Urit. “He needed to destroy any evidence of poisoning.”
“Kill the traitor!” screamed one of the Vambir. The others quickly followed suit and demanded Kevak’s death.
Mazja nodded to the two Enforcers restraining Kevak, and they pushed him to his knees. Removing her lasgun from its holster, she set it to kill and pointed it at Kevak’s head. As she was about to squeeze the trigger, Chaluxi leapt forward and snatched it. Using the butt of the lasgun, he viciously pistol-whipped Kevak about the head until he crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Chaluxi then knelt in front of Mazja and returned the lasgun to her.
“Forgive my insubordinance, Commander,” he said, “but I have just come from the hemo-field. All of the crops have been destroyed. It was sabotage! I was at a loss to explain it until learning what took place here. The Navigator left no loose ends. If some of us had managed to avoid being poisoned, then his hoarded stash of nectar rations would have sustained him long enough to outlive any survivors. Once he alone remained, he would have had enough time to grow a new hemo-crop while living off the community’s rations. Never in the history of Vambiri has there been so vile a traitor! Instant vaporization is too good for him. He should meet the death prescribed for all traitors: daylight exposure!”
“Daylight exposure!” cried the Vambir.
“Please, Commander,” pleaded Chaluxi, “Allow me to be the one who restrains him at his execution!”
*******
Urit opened the door to Mazja’s quarters.
“You played your part well, Urit,” she said as she offered him a flask of blood.
Urit greedily snatched it from her and quickly ingested the contents. He stuck his fingers into the flask to gather up the small amount that still clung to the sides.
“Commander, how have you maintained your calm demeanor around the Primitive substance?” he asked. “It took weeks for my system to adjust to the change.”
“My first exposure was a tiny drop,” answered Mazja, “whereas you gorged yourself in the lab. It’s been a useful observation. We will introduce minuscule amounts to the others in the beginning.”
“But I was first overcome by the smell,” he noted. “Why weren’t you similarly affected?”
“I was under extreme duress at the time,” she answered, not wishing to recount the details of Behot’s death.
“It’s possible the release of adrenaline temporarily blocks the cravings,” speculated Urit.
“Yes,” said Mazja. “It makes sense. We’ll have to investigate that further.”
“You were certainly right about the concentrated Four-legs substance, Commander,” said Urit. “The death of the one who broke protocol was instantaneous. Are you sure no one saw you remove the manual centrifuge from the lab?”
Mazja laughed. “One of the perks of being Commander is that subordinates are afraid to make eye contact. Besides, half the lab techs don’t even know what hand-crank equipment looks like. No one misses something they never use.”
“You don’t think Chaluxi suspects us?” he asked as he licked his fingers.
“After insisting on being Kevak’s executioner? I think not,” she replied. “In his mind, Kevak destroyed his precious hemo-crops.”
“He’s not to be trusted,” said Urit. “Not until he becomes as we are.”
“All is proceeding as planned,” she said. “Kevak is an obstacle that will soon be eliminated. Our people are starving and will willingly accept ingesting the Primitive hemo-nectar. We just have to make it palatable.”
“How so?” asked Urit.
“Enforcers will hunt the Primitives, and their hemo-nectar will be extracted behind closed doors in the lab,” she said. “The substance will be clinically distributed in the familiar tubes. Once the Vambir’s systems have adapted to the change, they can acquire their own supply.”
“We are transforming into something far superior to our former selves,” marveled Urit.
“Yes,” agreed Mazja, “and Kevak will no longer be around to stop it.”
*******
The execution squad left the lifeboat a few hours before daylight. Although severely beaten, Kevak was able to walk on his own.
“Over there!” ordered Chaluxi, indicating a lone tree.
“We won’t be able to see his demise from the lifeboat,” complained Urit.
“The surveillance drones will record it all,” Chaluxi assured him.
When the group reached the tree, two Enforcers began to tie Kevak to it.
“Stop!” shouted Chaluxi. “Mazja said the honor would be mine. I also have some private words of parting for my old friend. Stand back with Urit until I am finished.”
The Enforcers retreated to wait with Urit. Chaluxi pushed Kevak against the tree and walked behind him. Pulling Kevak’s hands to the back of the tree, he began to bind them together. As he went about his work, he bent his head close to Kevak’s ear.
“Navigator,” he whispered to him, “I am tying your bonds loosely. It will take me at least half an hour to create a diversion and disable the drones. Do not make your escape before this happens, or there will be time for Enforcers to hunt you down. I’m putting all of my hemo-rations, along with a supply of seeds, in your pocket. Find shelter before daylight and never return to the lifeboat. The Vambir will kill you on sight. Everything that happened was as Mazja and Urit planned, but I was in no position to accuse them. I’m sorry, old friend, but I didn’t know what else to do. Mazja was within seconds of vaporizing you. Forgive me.”
For the benefit of Urit and the Enforcers, Chaluxi stepped back from Kevak and scooped up a handful of dirt. “Your ashes will soon mix with this Primitive filth, traitor!” he exclaimed as he threw it into Kevak’s face.
*******
Later, as the Vambir anxiously watched the live feed from the surveillance drones, panic ensued when the computers detected a radiation leak. All thoughts of Kevak were forgotten as they scrambled to squeeze into their designated lead-shielded compartments.
PASSING
Village of Velt
Bunica is dying.
For two days, Emanui had been at her bedside as the old woman increasingly struggled to breathe. Recognizing the end was near, Emanui had distilled a tincture made from the roots of wolfsbane to ease her suffering. Although the blue buttercup plant was the source of a comforting anesthetic, it was also
a deadly poison if too much was administered. She gave Bunica small doses, but the soothing effects were lessened each time.
“More,” pleaded Bunica.
Emanui shook her head as tears flowed down her cheeks. “It’ll be too much.”
“It doesn’t matter now,” gasped Bunica. “Allow me to die without pain, my dearest.”
She gently raised Bunica’s head and held the cup to her lips. The old woman gulped the entire contents and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Oh, that’s better,” she said. “Its warmth is spreading through my body. Soon I will sleep without nightmares. Emanui, you must take care. The Strigoi are coming, looking for human souls to inhabit. Once I am gone, they will seek out someone new to haunt. You must take every precaution. The garlic…and crucifix…bolt the door securely at night. They can be killed with a wooden stake through the heart. Always…”
Bunica reached out and gripped Emanui’s shoulder tightly. Suddenly, she went limp and fell back onto the bed. Although her body did not move, a gurgling emanated from her mouth as she exhaled her final breath. Watching her closely for several minutes, Emanui could detect no signs of life. Touching her hand, she felt the coldness of death beginning to settle in.
“I’ll take care, Bunica,” Emanui assured her, gently stroking her hand, “and your spirit will always be by my side to protect me.”
Her grief was interrupted by faint, high-pitched howls in the distance.
Wolves!
She checked that the hut’s bolted door and two shuttered windows were secure then returned to Bunica’s side. After carefully brushing her hair, she positioned her lifeless hands across her abdomen with the fingers interlaced.
The Nosferatu Chronicles: Origins Page 7
