The Nosferatu Chronicles: Origins

by Susan Hamilton

  “Sleep well, dearest Bunica,” she whispered as she tenderly kissed her forehead. “The Strigoi will bother you no more.”

  SAFETY

  Cloaked Lifeboat, Outskirts of Bazna

  It was less than an hour until daylight. When the drones crashed heavily to the ground, Kevak knew the moment had come to escape. He easily freed himself and headed for a row of cliffs illuminated in the distance by the moon. They offered him one desperate hope of finding a cave in which to shelter from the daylight.

  Pain racked his body from the beating Chaluxi had inflicted, and he used it to keep himself alert and focused. He would to have to sprint the entire distance if he was going to make it in time. Feeling his strength wane, he allowed the heartbreaking emotions from his suppressed grief for Vrin and J’Vor to wash over him in an attempt to resist the exhaustion taking control of his body.

  “Vrin—J’Vor—Vrin—J’Vor,” he murmured to himself as his feet kept time to the impossibly fast pace he had set.

  He kept his eyes locked on the cliffs to prevent the surrounding landscape from distracting him.

  “Vrinj’vor—Vrinj’vor—Vrinj’vor—Vrinj’vor…”

  Long ago on Vambiri, he had found himself in a similar situation. The Highcaste had always avoided the surface, regarding it as a cursed place only fit for Lowcaste agricultural workers and executions, the one exception being the sacred Field of Transition, where the dead Highcaste were deposited at the conclusion of their funerals.

  As a precocious, solitary child, Kevak had been fascinated by telescopic images of the constellations in the night sky and was determined to find a way to view them from the surface. He thought he might travel with Lowcaste workers in the elevators as they began their night shift, but it was clearly impossible for a Highcaste child to blend in with them.

  Ironically, the funeral of his grandfather had provided him with the means to bring his dream to life. At the end of the ceremony, when the ushers solemnly placed the shrouded body in the elevator that would take it on its final journey to the surface, the opportunity presented itself.

  Slipping into an empty adjoining chapel, he activated the elevator and jumped into it as it began its slow ascent. Once on the surface, he saw the shroud of his grandfather along with several others patiently waiting for the sunlight that would vaporize them. Stepping gingerly past the shrouds, he broke into a run as soon as he had left the charred ground of the Field of Transition. The constellations he had studied in school sparkled above him in their unfiltered, naked glory. Mesmerized by the vast skyline hovering over the fields that brimmed with hemo-blooms, he lost track of time as he strolled through the fragrant plants, savoring each moment of his great adventure.

  At first he was delighted to see the sky transition from black into a dark shade of purple. Silhouettes of distant mountains came into view, and the red blooms of the hemoplant became more vibrant. But as the purple changed to lavender, the realization suddenly came over him that the deadly sunlight was close at hand. He broke into a frantic sprint in order to return to the Field of Transition but stopped abruptly when it became obvious that his aimless wanderings had robbed him of any sense of direction. Shaking with fear, he squinted to search for any agricultural workers in the distance, but they had all been deployed to cultivated fields far away. The ground he was walking on was sacred and reserved only for the dead and the wild hemoplants that symbolized eternal life.

  At the height of his panic, he spotted a red, blinking light at the edge of the field: a solar shielded emergency shelter. Although he would win his race against time that day, he had not escaped unscathed. As the sky continued to lighten, he sustained painful burns before reaching the shelter. Once inside, he watched in fascinated horror as the shrouds in the far away Field of Transition caught fire when exposed to the first rays of the sun. After spending the daylight hours in the cramped shelter, he was finally able to return by marking the position of where he had seen the flames of the dead. He was punished severely by his terrified parents for his flippant disregard of danger. Although he was shaken by his near-death experience, he never regretted it.

  Once again, Kevak found himself in a race against the daylight, but this time he was destined to lose. Only minutes remained before sunrise, and already he could feel his skin beginning to burn as it had that day so many thousands of years ago. Even at his current pace, the cliffs were still over an hour away. With sorrowful resignation, he stopped running and awaited his fate. Smoke began to fill his nostrils, and he saw that his clothing was beginning to melt. As his skin bubbled and cracked in response to the intense heat, he fell to the ground in agony.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he detected something out of place in the landscape. Twenty feet to his right was something silver: an open stasis pod. His singular concentration on the cliffs had been so intense that he had not seen it. As he crawled toward it, his body became engulfed in flames, and by the time he was able to drag himself inside and close the hatch, he was forced to program a twelve-hour revival cycle with fingers reduced to bare bones. The last thing he heard before losing consciousness was the humming of the pod as it came online.

  *******

  Twelve hours later, the stasis pod initiated the revival sequence, and he regained consciousness.

  I’m alive.

  When he attempted to open the hatch, the pod’s med-sensors prevented him from doing so. Although it was no longer daylight outside, his condition remained critical, and it was imperative that he receive additional treatment.

  “Override!” ordered Kevak, but his scorched tongue was so swollen that the voice sensors could not understand the garbled command.

  Deciding that the danger from remaining in the open was greater than his need for further medical treatment, Kevak attempted to manually enter the override command. Although the bones in his fingers were no longer exposed, twelve hours had only been enough time for the pod to generate a thin layer of protective coating around them. Each keystroke seemed to activate new pain sensors in his central nervous system, and he was unable to complete the code.

  Moving only his eyes, Kevak inspected the panel that contained emergency supplies and spotted several quinox vials—the Vambir equivalent of morphine. He was able to resist the searing pain just long enough to snatch two and empty their contents into what was left of his mouth. Feeling instant relief as the numbing effect spread throughout his charred body, his fingers were able to complete the override code.

  Once outside, he saw that the pod’s homing beacon was not flashing, and for the first time in his life, he was thankful for an equipment malfunction. Spotting the burned path his body had made in the dirt as he crawled toward the pod hours earlier, he was able to locate the bundle of rations and seeds that Chaluxi had given him.

  Fire-proof cloth from the laboratory. You thought of everything, Helmsman.

  He limped back to the pod and tossed the bundle inside.

  “Hover!” he commanded, but again the voice recognition sensors were unresponsive.

  Kevak had to rest for several minutes until he could muster the strength to manually enter the hover code.

  Hours later, he arrived at the base of the cliffs and was overjoyed to see several jagged openings in the limestone that could easily accommodate the pod. The deepest opening was about fifty yards above him. Sucking the contents from another quinox vial, he scaled the cliff as the hovering pod followed. Upon reaching the ledge, he saw that the opening went further into the rock than he had estimated. His happiness with this bit of luck was cut short as a new wave of pain surged through his body. Looking at his hands, he was dismayed to see that his fingertips were again reduced to bones, as the strenuous climb had worn away the thin coating around them.

  As soon as he had placed the pod at the back of the crawlspace, he got in and allowed it to run a complete scan. The results did not please him. The massive tissue damage he had sustained would require him to be in stasis for months. Confident he was sufficient
ly concealed from both the Vambir and Primitives, he entered the acceptance code and submitted himself to the healing process.

  WARNING

  Castle Dracula

  A great feast had been arranged to celebrate Iroto and Soueti’s joyous news. Dracula had seemed happy at the request to have a son of Iroto share his name, as far as appearances went. Soueti’s demure behavior had been beyond even Dracula’s reproach, and once the baby was born, Iroto was confident it would alleviate any doubts as to the timing of its conception.

  Iroto allowed himself to enjoy the celebrations. It was tiresome to be constantly on guard for signs of Dracula’s emotional instability, and tonight he was resolved to maintain a cheerful countenance for Soueti’s sake.

  Each morning, Iroto had departed the castle with the Free Kapikulu to patrol a new area, while Teodor and Dracula had done the same at the head of their own respective troops. Each evening, the news was the same: nothing to report. Such a long period of quiet did not settle anyone’s nerves. There were too many unknowns. If just one of their advanced scouts had been discovered and killed by Mehmed’s troops, Castle Dracula would be vulnerable to a surprise attack. This scenario troubled everyone greatly and was foremost in their minds.

  Musicians in the gallery overhead accompanied a troupe of acrobats as they performed gravity-defying feats. The courtiers were enthralled as they watched the acrobats climb on top of each other to form a great pyramid. For a moment it looked as if the acrobat on the top had lost his balance and would come crashing down on the tables, but it was all part of the act, and the courtiers laughed heartily at those who had abruptly risen from their seats to get out of the way. All eyes were on the acrobats when a mud-stained scout rushed into the dining hall, escorted by palace guards.

  “Sire, I bring news!” he shouted above the music.

  Teodor rose and signaled the musicians to stop. Dracula motioned for the guards to escort the scout into an adjoining chamber, then stood to address the courtiers.

  “Generals Teodor and Iroto will join me to confer with the scout,” he said calmly. “We shall return soon. Until then, Princess Elzbieta will oversee the festivities.”

  The musicians began playing again, but the sound was drowned out by the murmurs of the courtiers.

  *******

  “Where?” asked Dracula.

  “Mehmed’s forces were ten days hard ride to the east, Sire, when I spotted them,” answered the breathless scout, “but they are not advancing.”

  “It’s too late in the season,” said Iroto. “They would only have enough time for one major assault on the castle. If it gets drawn out, they would find themselves marching home in frigid conditions. They are most likely retreating to sit out the winter.”

  “They stop at every farmhouse to loot what they can,” said the scout.

  “Do they move as one entity?” asked Dracula.

  The scout shook his head. “No, Sire, they have no discipline and break off into groups as soon as they come upon a new village.”

  Teodor unrolled a map of the region. “Show us exactly.”

  TRANSITION

  Outskirts of Bazna

  As Kevak opened his eyes, the panel lights in the pod began to flash. When he moved his hand to push the hatch release, he saw that it had been completely restored with new flesh. The code he had infused with the laspen during the panicked escape from Vambiri was gone.

  No matter. I need no code to remind me of my grief.

  As he exited the pod, he remembered that the crawlspace was not large enough for him to stand upright. It was cold—colder than anything he had experienced on Vambiri. He watched in wonder as his breath turned into fog as he exhaled. Gazing down on the landscape, he saw that it was covered in a white, powdery substance. He began to shiver and suddenly realized he was naked. The pod had dissolved the remnants of his clothing before it had begun the healing process.

  He tentatively stepped outside to the thin ledge and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw no indications of recent Vambir or Primitive activity.

  His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the screeches of several small, furry, winged creatures that emerged from a niche in the wall and darted around his head. He was able to drive them away by frantically waving his arms.

  So many different life forms on one planet!

  He returned to the warmth of the pod and accessed the computer log. The data revealed that the pod had been damaged during the atmospheric entry. Not only had the homing beacon been destroyed, but the pod’s angle of descent had also been altered. The eminent danger protocols had signaled the pod to revive the occupant as it was plunging toward the surface. Kevak saw that the life chute was missing, and the log recorded that the ejection code had been manually entered.

  Bail out into daylight or risk a hard landing. Not much of a choice.

  There was the slim chance the occupant had ejected early enough to avoid the daylight.

  But an ejection that early would mean the occupant would have landed thousands of miles away, if he managed to survive the time in the upper atmosphere.

  The pod’s palmcom had not been removed, meaning it was impossible to contact the occupant. Resigned to the fact that he could do nothing for the occupant, his thoughts turned to the lifeboat.

  Are the Vambir still alive? If so, have they ingested the Primitive substance? Was Chaluxi’s deception discovered?

  He had to know the answers. Opening more of the pod’s compartments to see if there was anything else useful, he was elated to find five tubes of nectar rations and a bio-scanner. Taking the palmcom and scanner with him, he scaled down the cliff and ran toward the lifeboat in the frigid night.

  Two hours later, he arrived at his destination. The palmcom confirmed that the cloaked lifeboat was still there. As he waved the bio-scanner, he felt mixed emotions. The only life form that registered was himself. If the lifeboat was empty, then he could obtain clothing and supplies, but the Vambir could return at any time. Seeing no sign of drones, he slowly made his way to the entrance and nervously entered the passcode from his palmcom.

  If they have changed the code, the computer will alert them to my failed attempt to enter.

  Kevak breathed a sigh of relief when the lifeboat’s hatch flickered into view as it disabled the cloaking shield and allowed him entry. It was a good sign. If the Vambir suspected he was still alive, then they would have surely changed the code.

  Chaluxi must also be safe from suspicion.

  Once inside, he found things in a state of disarray. The agriculture lab was strewn with soil and overturned pots, and it was obvious that all efforts at hemoplant cultivation had been abandoned.

  Finding clothing in one of the lockers, he dressed himself before donning a hazmat suit and making his way to the biology lab. Once there, he became greatly disturbed when he found several containers of the Primitive substance in the refrigeration units.

  Mazja got her way.

  If the Primitive substance truly had the same effects as hemostim, then the Vambir were doomed, since it would only be a matter of time until the psychosis would cause them to viciously turn on each other. There was no telling what the Vambir had transformed into while he had been in stasis.

  It should have never come to this. The Primitives won’t stand a chance against lasguns.

  Grabbing a large pack, he quickly filled it with anything that would be useful: clothing, lasguns, various scanners and portable terminals, medical supplies, and as many hydrogen cells as he could carry.

  It occurred to him that there might still be hemo-rations scattered throughout the lifeboat if the Vambir had abandoned them for the Primitive substance. Time was of the essence, and he went from room to room, quickly riffling through the storage containers. By the time he had finished, he had collected over twenty nectar tubes.

  Opening a panel next to the air lock, he found a radiation suit and checked that its arm relay was functional. Calling up the radiation safety program on one of the p
ortable terminals, he replaced ‘10,000’ with ‘10’ then saved the changes. When he was outside, he uploaded the new program to the lifeboat from the arm relay of the radiation suit, and just as he had planned, the internal sensors falsely detected large levels of radiation. Once his scanner indicated that lock-out procedures had been initiated, Kevak began his run back to the cave.

  Gazing in the direction of the Primitive settlement, he noticed there were no flickering lights.

  Perhaps the Vambir succeeded in scaring them away.

  But as soon as he remembered what he had seen in the lab, a more disturbing thought crossed his mind.

  *******

  The driver remained alert and told his wealthy passenger to lock the doors of the coach. He had not wanted to make this journey, but the passenger had gladly paid the extraordinary rate he had quoted in addition to the costs to cover the two burly men he had brought along for protection.

  “We will arrive at Bazna soon, and I’m going to be racing the horses through!” he called out to the passenger.

  Weeks ago, news surfaced that Bazna had been abandoned. Not a single villager had been located. An attack by highwaymen or marauders was ruled out, since nothing had been looted. Regional authorities had dispatched soldiers to investigate, but they had yet to arrive.

  Ahead in the darkness, the driver made out a figure standing in the middle of the road.

  “Highwaymen!” he yelled, whipping the horses into a run.

  As the horses raced to within a few feet of the figure, it refused to give way. A bright light flashed, and the horses suddenly fell to the ground. The abrupt change in momentum caused the cart to turn over, throwing the driver and two guards to the ground. As they slowly got to their feet, the men looked cautiously about but could no longer see the stranger who had been standing in the road. They walked over to the passenger, who was unconscious in the cart.

  “The doors are locked from inside,” said the driver. “Use an axe to get them open.”