by John Conroe
“I do not think so, Cruikshank. This weapon is made of steel. True steel,” Clacher said, poking the barrel at Cruikshank, which made both Mack and Jetta cringe. Luckily it was her rifle and not his, or the shooting would likely have continued.
“Ah, Lord, we should make those weapons safe before there is an accident,” Mack said.
“Father, I saw them fire their slender crossbows many times without ever putting any bolts into them,” Iona said, looking concerned.
After a moment’s consideration, her father held the Mossberg rifle out to Jetta, again muzzle first. Sergeant Kellan drew his own bronze seax knife, which was more like a short sword, and stepped up behind the Jetta as she took the rifle. Even with bound hands, Jetta’s motions were quick and sure as she dropped the magazine and opened the bolt, ejecting the spent casing. Then she gently set her rifle down and, without lifting it from the floor, did the same to Mack’s M1A, catching the live chamber round as she slid back the bolt.
“Sergeant, lock these two up and get Aylwin to prepare the forge,” Clacher said, a calculating look on his face. “We will have the proof of what you say!”
Two men grabbed Jetta and two more got Mack’s arms, spinning him around fast enough that he almost vomited. The last face he saw in the group around the throne was the girl, Iona, watching him, her expression triumphant.
Chapter 14
Chris
Rome
It was late when I got to Fiumicino airport, but the place was still crazy busy. I went by myself—or as by myself as I was allowed to be in Italy. So while Tanya and the others went back to Senka’s estate, a team of Carabineri drove me to the airport.
His flight had been on time and his luggage did not take long to make it off the plane. I quickly spotted him in the customs line, waiting to get his passport stamped.
“Is that him, Signore?” asked the sergeant, who led my personal detachment.
I nodded and he stepped up to the customs booth, leaning down to speak to the officer on duty. That one listened, turned to look at me, then nodded quick agreement with whatever the sergeant had said. He waved my grandfather forward and stamped his passport with a nod and a smile.
Gramps had seen the custom officer’s glance and he smiled as he thanked the officer and started my way. A few of his fellow travelers looked disgruntled till they saw me waiting for him. Then they got excited and the cameras came out.
“How was your flight?” I asked but got enveloped in a deep hug that featured much hearty back slapping.
“It’s good to see you, Chris,” my grandfather said.
“Good to see you too, Gramps. Was your flight okay?” I asked again.
“It was fine,” he said absently, studying me. Then something occurred to him. “Tried to give my first class seat to a young soldier, but they wouldn’t let me. Seems he’d already been upgraded to first class.”
“Tanya was excited to fly you in style, but I warned her you would likely give up your seat to any active soldier you saw. She had all the soldiers on the flight upgraded so you couldn’t foil her plot,” I said. Omega had assisted in that, but Gramps didn’t know about the computer yet. Maybe in the car ride to Senka’s, I could tell him.
He blinked twice in surprise, then smiled ruefully. “You two make a dangerous team, but she’s smarter than you.”
“Much,” I said. “Come on, let’s get you to the house.” I grabbed his bag and turned to find my sergeant waiting a respectful distance away. Also most of the people around us were taking pictures of me. “Not really used to that,” I said, leading him over to the sergeant.
“The life of a global celebrity,” Gramps said with a smile.
I introduced him to Sergeant Greco, who turned and started to lead us to the waiting car. The sergeant turned back, looking for Gramps’ bag, but then he noticed I was holding it over my head to better squeeze through the crowds. I suppose that made us stand out even more.
At the car, we introduced him to the driver, Pero, then got the suitcase in the trunk and we were off.
“How’re things on the farm?” I asked, as I usually do.
“Good,” he said. “I’ve got the neighbors doing a bit more of the work. Len’s getting a bit long in the tooth for all of it. Those youngsters learn fast and they’re good with the animals, which is surprising. ”
“Seeing how they’re werewolves and all,” I agreed. “Isn’t it about time for both of you to retire?”
“Chris, the farm is my retirement,” he said.
“We’ve got to work on your understanding of the word retirement,” I said.
He laughed, and it was good to hear. “Okay, maybe we’re not your standard AARP members, but enough about us old codgers. Tell me about your children.”
Which is why he was here. There hadn’t been time to visit him with the babies before we left the country, not with all the Congressional hearings and the crap that followed Las Vegas.
“They’re both awesome. Healthy and alert and growing like weeds,” I said.
“Are they growing too fast? Is there anything…” he trailed off.
“Weird, odd, supernatural, paranormal, or super-powered?” I asked.
“Well… yeah,” he said with a smile.
“Not yet. Extremely alert and responsive, but nothing that qualifies as abnormal and believe me, they are being watched for any signs,” I said.
“And the vampires? They’re okay with them?” he asked.
“They are under the extremely watchful eyes of Aunties Lydia and Nika, who guard them like they’re royalty,” I said. “Not to mention Tanya’s rather formidable maternal instincts and they have the oldest Elder vampire as a great-grandma.”
“Yeah, that might dampen the bloodlust a bit. I’m also glad to hear Miss Chapman is on the job,” he said.
Gramps and Lydia were almost the same age and had a lot of generational history in common. The old soldier had a lot of respect for the tiny vampire who liked to terrorize me. In fact, I kind of think he liked her.
Senka’s Roman estate was actually thirty minutes from Rome. We made it in less than twenty with the police driving us.
“This isn’t exactly what I expected,” Gramps said as our car entered the drive of the estate.
“It was a essentially a fortified village when it was built in the thirteenth century. Thirty bedrooms, twenty bathrooms, all squeezed into a compact 75,000 square feet. Senka also owns about seventy-five acres around it. Actually it’s pretty historic. Kings and popes have stayed here,” I said.
It looked very Italian, with white stone walls that carried the patina of age. Senka had told me during our tour of the place that she treasured the sense of age and history it evoked. She’d kept it authentic and despite the very modern technology that her people had installed, the ancient building was left alone with its worn frescos and terra cotta roofs. It was much like the old buildings in Rome itself.
Inside the front entry, we were greeted by Tanya and Lydia, who were holding Wulf and Cora to greet their great-grandfather.
Within seconds, he had both cradled in his arms, talking to them each as they gazed up at him, both babies alert and curious.
One of Senka’s people stalked in, looking us over with a slightly disdainful air. He started to reach for my grandfather’s suitcase. Some of the Darkkin who worked directly for Senka had a bit of an elitist attitude, especially toward humans. This one, a tall, dark-haired male, flared his nostrils and grimaced as he grabbed the bag. I was watching him, annoyed at his reaction, and I saw the moment my grandfather’s scent hit him. The sclera in his eyes bled to full black and his fangs started to protrude. Then Grim had him by the throat against the wall thirty feet away.
“Ah, Chris, should you be choking the staff?” Gramps asked while Tanya and Lydia shifted into place on either side of him.
“I think, Mr. Gordon, that my grandson-in-law is imparting an extremely important lesson to my staff,” Senka said suddenly from the back of the entry
hall. Other Darkkin had appeared silently from every direction, all of them watching her reactions.
“In fact, he is being very gentle about it, but nonetheless it is vital for every Darkkin in this building to remember at all times that no one here is food. The fact that you smell like Christian and the fact that he smells delicious might be a temptation to weaker vampires. Weak vampires have no place here, in fact, no place in my organization. You, Mr. Gordon, are Chris’s family. Chris is my family. Therefore you are my family as well. My family is not prey. Why, letting one’s self think of you as prey for even an instant would be to open the door to considering those babies as prey,” Senka said. “That would be an absolutely fatal mistake to make. Tell me you were sniffing the older Gordon and not the newly born ones, Taddeo? Please tell me you aren’t that deadly stupid?”
The Eldest vampire of the Darkkin Coven covered the distance to me in an instant, her passage smooth like silk, the air breezing past me.
The vampire under my hand turned his eyes to her, his body starting to shake. “Tell me!” she demanded.
“I smelled the newcomer, Elder—the older man,” he admitted.
“Taddeo, you know better then to lose control. Such a pity. Nothing for it though,” she said to the man I held pressed against the wall. “Did you forget who you were near? Allowing your hunger to rule you so close to my great-grandbabies? You do remember who the babies’ mother is, right? What she is capable of? And how could you forget the one who holds you without effort? He, who makes vampires mortal with a thought. No, I’m afraid this is the end for you,” she said and I waited for sudden death to strike. “Nothing for it… you must leave, now. You are hereby reassigned to Florence.”
You would have thought she actually had killed him, based on his expression. Senka nodded at me and I released the man, who dropped gracefully to the ground, bowed repeatedly, and slunk away in shame.
“That was less violent than I might have thought,” Gramps said into the immediate silence.
Senka laughed. “It’s easy to kill, Mr. Gordon. Much harder to educate and cultivate. Taddeo will not forget this error, ever. He will, in my opinion, learn and grow from it. Admittedly, there are many vampire households where the lessons would be more… active. ”
“You are destroying all my stereotypes,” Gramps said casually to the oldest vampire on earth. Senka and Gramps had met before, but only briefly. This would be their first real time to interact.
“Christian, your grandfather is a treasure. His heartbeat isn’t even elevated,” Senka said.
“I’m too old to fear death,” Gramps said.
“And yet, you are only just the age of Lydia, who is a mere adolescent,” Senka said, linking her arm with mine and pulling us both toward my baby-wielding grandfather. “But welcome to my home, Mr. Gordon. Unfortunately, we don’t have a grand ball planned for this evening, but rather a strategic planning session. We can, at least, feed you while we talk.”
“Ma’am, I love strategy and I spent a good deal of time in the Marines in planning sessions,” Gramps said, bouncing both babies in an automatic kind of way. “And I wouldn’t say no to some famous Italian cuisine.”
“Come then,” she said, taking his baby-laden left arm. Tanya took his right arm and the two vampires led my grandfather into the massive ballroom.
The exquisite furniture was all covered in white sheets and pushed to the sides to make room for four folding tables pushed into a rectangle. These were also covered with tablecloths, which were held down by maps, laptops, coffee cups, and a single very old Italian dagger.
Holding the center of the quad table was the biohazard box with the alien slug in it. Doc Singh was adjusting a powerful camera set on a mini tripod, aimed into the box, the resulting image showing on one of the free-standing giant flat screens that circled the table.
Arkady, Mr. Deckert, Chet Aikens, Nika, and a half-dozen staff members were already at the tables. The remaining flat screens suddenly came online as we took seats.
“Good evening everyone. Shall we get started?” Omega said. My grandfather turned and looked at me. I nodded. We had talked about Omega in the car ride from Rome, and this was his first introduction to our computer ally.
“The tissue samples from the organism previously named Stefano have been thoroughly analyzed and the data disseminated throughout the world. I am ensuring that all of the world’s top science centers are sharing information about these entities. The results have been interesting. Subject Stefano’s DNA has been overwritten, the new sequences including a fifth and, at times, a sixth nucleotide.”
“There are only four, normally, right?” I asked, unafraid to embrace my ignorance.
“Correct,” Doc Singh said. “Adenine, thymine, cytosine, and guanine. There has been work done concerning a fifth, a transitional form of cytosine. But what Omega is telling us is that these gene sequences contain two unidentified additions and that these new nucleotides appear to be able to elicit unusual biological responses not possible with just the existing traditional four nucleotide sequences.”
“The carbon nanotube structures appear to insert these additional nucleotides at points throughout the subjects’ DNA.”
“So the nanotubes are like editors? Rewriting the host’s genetic codes?” Tanya asked.
“Exactly so, Tanya. Also, the carbon nanotubes are able to organize themselves as demonstrated by the formation of the diamondoid armor. They appear responsive to sound signals from the control unit in the biohazard container,” Omega said.
“Control unit?” Mr. Deckert questioned. “You mean the green sea slug?”
“Correct. While it does have some superficial resemblance to a marine gastropod mollusk, it is actually a much simpler construct. The slug acts as a relay and control unit for the nanotubes. It is densely packed with nerve structures and what appear to be very large mitochondrial analogs. It also has organs near the surface of its skin that are analogous to the tympanal organs found in insects. These hearing sensors appear quite sensitive. It also has nematocyst type cells—like a common jellyfish, that fire when triggered by touch. The cell contains a hollow, barbed projectile that injects the target with the carbon nanotube units.”
“So Stefano touched the slug and got infected with alien nano structures,” I said.
“Exactly. The slug both emits and senses sounds in ranges far outside human hearing. Tanya, would you demonstrate?”
“Sure,” my vampire said. She cleared her throat and then started to run a do-re-mi-type singer scale, but she then strayed out of the common range and into both ultra and infra sound notes.
The slug quivered and shook when she hit certain frequencies.
“I have run a number of frequencies in various combinations to elicit responses from the organic control unit. While I have not fully decoded its instructional commands, I am making progress. New micro drone units are in production with sensitive sonic sensors and sound generators. The new units will also feature a neutral charge particle beam weapon for incineration of alien tissues.”
“Have we contained the infection?” Tanya asked.
“I cannot say that with complete confidence although there has been no sign that any part of the organisms have survived. The three known portals have been bricked over by Italian authorities and I have saturated the Rome underground with my micro drones. I will caution that the Roman sewer and water systems range from ancient to modern and make a perfect network for a small alien organism to hide and range through.”
“So, we know an experimental assault arrived through portals that lead from locations other than Hell and Fairie. The attack was biological in nature, using our own population against us. Only the fact that the Vatican police were on guard allowed us to contain it. And the only real weapons useful against this enemy are fire and certain acids,” Tanya said.
