III
“Fourteen humans are employed here in the castle. And I’m one of them. All of us have come into this service in the last five years. I don’t know much about how it all started. But apparently villagers have served here for as long as there’s been a village around the castle. Three years ago I was sent to work here by the aunt who’d raised me, who figured if I was going to be drained of blood anyway I might as well get a job as a servant. I was told the grand duke had a strange habit of never feeding on his human servants. Still, I was scared, but true to the rumors I’d heard, the grand duke never laid a finger on me or any of the others. Even now I still don’t know why not. But an old-timer in the castle who passed away last year told me that until that point, the grand duke hadn’t had any compunctions about draining the blood from his human servants. That had only come to an end three years before I came—back when my younger brother came along, he said.
“Granted, you’re hearing this from his sister, but my brother is a genius the likes of which the village has never seen, and at the age of three his teacher recommended that he undergo special education in the Capital. At the age of five he went to the Capital on a scholarship, but two weeks later he was expelled from school. He was such an excellent student, you see, that the other students’ parents complained to the school. But in his time there my brother acquired something that no regular student in the special school could learn in their classes.
“The day after my brother returned home, he pleaded with our aunt to bring him up to the castle so that he might have an audience with the grand duke. As our aunt was forced to wait in another chamber, we can’t begin to imagine what a five-year-old boy would’ve discussed with a five-thousand-year-old Greater Noble, but my brother came out again about an hour later, and every day thereafter he would go to the castle by day and return home again at night, a schedule he continued for the next ten years. He wouldn’t let anyone follow him. According to my brother, the grand duke forbade it. Still, some villagers disregarded that and tried to tail him, and apparently none of them were ever seen again. I have no idea what he learned in the Nobleman’s castle during that decade.
“When he was fifteen, my brother started working at the castle at the personal request of the grand duke. His position was that of director of the Science and Technology Department. It was a title that made everyone’s jaws drop. What was a boy of fifteen supposed to do with the Nobility’s devices? All we could do was watch him go and spend all day staring up at the castle. And through that whole time the Nobility’s depredations continued, with the village’s young women and men alike being drained of blood and transformed into their inhuman servants.
“It was at that point I came to the castle. Contrary to my expectations, the grand duke wasn’t the cruel creature they’d whispered about in the village. The first time I met him, an old secretary or something introduced me as Jozen’s sister, and his smile is still burned into my retinas.
“Needless to say, my brother’s work in the castle consisted of operating, inspecting, and maintaining the machinery there, though no one had actually seen him at work. And I only encountered him twice. On both occasions he was terribly thin, but the second time he confided to me that the grand duke might kill him. Surprised as I was, I pressed him for more details but he would say no more, reassuring me that I would be safe since his grace was fond of me, and Jozen also asserted quite strongly that he’d taken measures to guarantee that no harm would come to our fellow villagers working there, and then he quickly left again. That was during my second year working in the castle. After that, I never saw him again.
“While it’s true that the grand duke never laid a hand on the humans in his castle, it wasn’t out of fondness for them. It’d be more correct to say that if he harmed them, he’d only be making things worse for himself. That’s what my brother was talking about when he said he’d taken measures. I’m sure you’d probably like to know what they were, but I haven’t the foggiest notion. The other villagers are content with their lives here in the castle, so it doesn’t seem to really matter much. There are plenty of servants of the Nobility who were still human beings. Many of them guarded the graves or maintained the premises by day, and so long as they performed those roles the Nobility would do them no harm. To the contrary, their lives were so much better than in the impoverished human world, most people ended up happy to do everything in their power for the Nobility. Myself included. My brother’s probably the only one who wouldn’t.”
Her long tale at an end, Françoise looked at D and said, “How are you faring?”
A semitransparent cover clung to his face and hands. That was part of the medicine Françoise had mentioned before beginning her story, and it would neutralize the physical effects of the sunlight.
“Better.”
“Great.”
“Is there tech down here, too?” D asked, his eyes still closed. “A man’s come from the Capital offering human sacrifices in exchange for Noble technology. Is there any particular reason why your brother and the grand duke parted ways?”
“I can’t really—”
“And you don’t know your brother’s whereabouts?”
“No. But he’s alive somewhere—I can feel it.” As she gazed at D with infatuation, her features flooded with determination.
“You said you could cure my condition. Is that because both the teleporter and sunlight ray are devices of your brother’s creation?”
“The teleporter was perfected by the Nobility. The other, according to my brother, was his own creation.”
“So, as his sister, you can more or less manage them as well?”
Caught in D’s line of sight, Françoise lowered her gaze. But then her eyes went wide with shock and joy as D murmured, “Then that was probably him.”
“Excuse me?”
As if egging her on, the hoarse voice replied, “The guy calling himself Cornet or something like that. The same kid who made another you. Had a purple hood over his head, and he likes to make odd little devices for the young turks in the village.”
“A hood . . . and odd little devices . . .” Françoise’s lips trembled faintly. As if she were afraid to say the next words, she continued, “Odd little devices . . . that would be my brother, all right!” Her tone was that of a wanderer suddenly spying a tiny light on a pitch-black night.
D didn’t move a muscle.
“Please, let me see him. Take me there.” She was about to shake D by the shoulder when she realized what she was doing. “I’m sorry—um, I’ll start your treatment right away. Perhaps when you’re better.”
“Do you hate the grand duke?”
“What?” the girl replied, her eyes as wide as they could go. Never in her life had she expected to be asked such a question.
“The mere mention of the Nobility fills people with hatred, with fear,” D continued a few seconds later. “The only ones who don’t loathe the Nobility are those who’ve been bitten and reaped the benefits. And the benefits are many. A higher position than other humans, wealth . . . and culture.”
“Culture?”
“Only a select few humans actually understand that, though—for example, a certain young man, and his sister.”
A full second passed before Françoise’s eyes went wide. “What? Me? I couldn’t possibly—”
“How long will it take to cure me?”
“It’ll be about four hours until the sacred power of the sunlight can be drained from you.”
“The sun will be down then,” said D. “And all sorts of things will be on the prowl. Even before that, things that shouldn’t be moving around will be out.”
Françoise gazed at the young man of unearthly beauty in the same way humans looked at Nobility. And in some ways, that was exactly as it should be.
A long, log-like car stopped just shy of the moat, and a human climbed out of it. Cupping his hands to either side of his mouth, he shouted, “Vyken, are you there? I am Professor Chaney. Kindly open th
e gates!”
A moment later the young man appeared before him. “What do you want?” he inquired.
“I believe a Hunter by the name of D went into the castle. What happened?”
“I got rid of him.”
“What?! You couldn’t possibly have done so.”
“You have some problem with me getting rid of him?”
“I can’t believe it. What on earth did you use?”
“A weapon of human manufacture.”
“Impossible! Are you serious?!” the Professor exclaimed, the look on his face past mere surprise and into a daze. “It can’t be,” he said, over and over. “Then, D is—”
“—destroyed, so far as I know. To survive being sealed in that dimension, he’d have to be human.”
“And I can take your word about this?”
“If you like. Now, away with you.”
“No, wait.”
Vyken’s form, which had been about to dissolve into thin air, became bright and sharp once more. The Professor was conversing with a hologram.
“Away with you,” Vyken repeated.
“I met with the grand duke once,” the Professor said. “And on that occasion, I got the impression that his grace has a hatred of humans that goes straight to the bottom of his heart. He was particularly insistent that every last scientific and technological development had been the work of the Nobility. Go ahead and tell his grace there’s a device crafted by human hands anywhere in his castle. Rest assured, his rage would bring down the entire stronghold.”
“Professor . . .”
“Hear me out a little longer. This is as much for your benefit as mine. Perhaps it has already occurred to you, but depending on the circumstances, I’m prepared to tell the grand duke that you slew D with a human-crafted device. And I suppose you can deduce what shall happen if I do. Is that what you want? Oh, come now, don’t look at me that way. I’ll have you know that the grand duke seems to me to put great stock in promises and agreements. Were I to die and he learned that you were the culprit, a terrible fate would be visited on you and your kin! You see this metal button on my collar, I take it? It’s an ultra-miniaturized microphone and camera I acquired in the Capital. Our entire exchange is being broadcast with lasers to the earphones I’ve issued my subordinates. Impressive though you may be, you would find disposing of all of them before the grand duke awakens a Herculean task. What say you to working things out to our mutual benefit?”
Drilling the Professor with a dark and dangerous look that seemed like it could only come from the genuine article, the phantom Vyken nevertheless asked nonchalantly, “What is it you want?”
“Ah, I do love a reasonable young man. It’s a simple matter, really. I want you to show me the device in question. And then, would you be so kind as to introduce me to its inventor?”
“He’s dead.”
“Hmm. When you’ve had your nose stuck in Noble matters as long as I have, you’re not so quick to believe reports of who’s alive or dead. Nobles die but return to life. As do humans they’ve fed upon. In the days of antiquity, people refused to believe in the existence of the living dead, yet today there isn’t a single individual who doubts they exist. I’ll need you to tell me all about this inventor—right now, inside the castle.”
“Don’t push your luck, Professor.”
“All that really matters is what direction I’m pushing it. Now, if you’d be so kind as to lower the drawbridge,” the Professor said, his expression already one of victory.
Françoise
Chapter 6
I
D had said it. When the sun went down, all kinds of things began to move about. Things that weren’t supposed to move around before that time.
When there was only about two hours remaining before sundown, a half dozen people called on the house of the former mayor en masse. Their nonchalant nature and the baskets of goodies the two women carried called to mind images of a casual afternoon tea party.
They were greeted by the former mayor’s wife, who bade them, “Welcome.”
All six of them were ushered into the living room where they sated themselves with cups of tea and cookies made with flour, sugar, and vanilla before everyone’s expressions became severe.
“And you’re sure you weren’t followed?” the former mayor’s wife inquired, wanting to be sure.
“Trust me,” one of the women replied, thumping her ample bosom, and the other woman nodded her agreement.
“That’s a relief, Pilica,” the mayor’s widow said with a smile. “And how are things at the town hall, Docia?” she continued, her gaze shifting to one of the men. He was young, still in his twenties.
“Not great, as you’d imagine, what with nobody to rally around,” he said, his intrepid features distorting with pain. “Most of the folks who were on the mayor’s side have decided not to rock the boat. Otherwise, everyone would’ve got canned automatically when that clown took over.”
“That leaves that scholar from the Capital and the grand duke free to do as they like. Again, automatically,” the secretary Jacos continued in a grave tone.
“Just how many human sacrifices are they looking for?” the second woman asked.
“Four a month,” Jacos replied.
“Wow. There won’t be a single woman left in the village in less than a year, eh?”
“They’re looking for men, too.”
“They’re really set on having human blood, are they?” the mayor’s widow said with a sigh.
“That’s right. They perfected synthesized blood a long, long time ago. It’s a perfect match for the taste and smell of human blood—but apparently that’s not enough.”
“Well, there’s no way in blazes we can let them get away with this,” the widow said, gnawing her lip. “There’s nothing in the world lower than human beings offering up their own as a sacrifice to the Nobility. It would be to the eternal shame of our village.”
“Well, that bastard Bezo’s still hell-bent on doing it,” said another of the men—a gray-haired old-timer with angry undercurrents to his voice.
A different young man, this one powerfully built, stood up. All eyes turned to him in surprise, seeing in his face a fierce resolve some might take as a kind of emptiness.
“At this point, there’s only one thing left we can do,” said the big man. “We all—I mean, I think so.”
His words drew a special kind of angry stare from Jacos, but everyone else held their tongues. That meant they agreed with him.
“But, Leiden, Bezo and that Professor fella both have their own guards!” the second woman countered.
“Not to worry. We’ve got a powerful ally on our side. We’ve been waiting a long damn time for this day come. The day we destroy the Nobility!”
“How’ll you manage that?”
All eyes focused on the young man.
“Promise not to tell anybody?” Leiden said, playing his powerful gaze across the rest of the group.
Everyone nodded.
At the center of their fascinated looks, Leiden pulled a black and silver gauntlet out of his bag, and once he slid it on, it covered him from the fingertips up to the elbow.
“What’s that?” asked the first woman, Pilica, narrowing her gaze.
“Never mind that, just keep watching,” Leiden said, sounding like he enjoyed the attention, and then he raised his right hand. With the faint hum of a motor, he curled his fingers, then extended them. Repeating the actions several times, he used the same hand to reach into his bag and pull out a foot-long length of inch-thick iron bar, which he dropped on the table. The table shook, jarring the teacups and the plate of cookies into the air. It was the real thing.
“Sorry about that. You’d need a heavy press in a machine shop to bend this thing. But just watch.”
Picking the iron bar up again, Leiden put his thumb to one end of it. It bent like taffy.
An excited buzz ripped through the living room, bouncing off the walls and ceiling.
> “Is—is that a piece of the Nobility’s armor you’ve got there?” sputtered the last of the visitors, a gray-haired and gray-bearded old-timer named Rust, eyeing Leiden’s right arm like he was looking at a ghost.
“It was probably based on that, originally. But this baby was perfected by Cor—er, a colleague of mine.”
“Habaki or Elsa?”
Everyone was exchanging doubtful glances with their nearest neighbors.
“C’mon, you can’t be serious,” Leiden replied. “No way in hell they’d be able to come up with something like this. This is a new colleague you folks don’t know about. I may not look it, but I’m a whiz at making new friends.”
“If you’ve got somebody like that on your side, we’d definitely appreciate their aid!” the mayor’s widow remarked with zeal.
“The problem is, even though he’s about the same age as us, he’s not a people person at all. There’s nothing he likes better than sitting off in a corner. Not exactly the type of person we could bring out in public.”
“Can this colleague of yours make weapons? I’m not talking about garden-variety bows and swords, but the kind of stuff the Nobility used to slaughter the OSB.”
“Hell, he made this. Sure, he based it off one of the Nobles’, but the one he had was broken and didn’t work at all. The solar batteries, power amplifier, and drive systems were all shot. And he fixed that crap all by himself. Given proper materials and a machine shop, he can do anything. Come to think of it, all the machines in his shop are things he put together, too.”
“And where is this friend of yours?” the mayor’s widow inquired, leaning forward. “I would most certainly like to make his acquaintance. He could provide a considerable booster to our firepower.”
“I second that,” Jacos said, raising his right hand. Then he narrowed his gaze.
“What is it?” Pilica asked.
Following the secretary’s gaze, Leiden turned around.
Noble Front Page 11
