by Gwynn White
Before Girard could organize his thoughts—or anything else—in order to brief the Council without completely freaking them out, his phone buzzed. Given that he almost never received calls, he was happy to shove his papers away and fumble it out of his pocket before it stopped.
Glancing at the screen, he recognized the number. Upstate New York. Yadikira.
“Hello,” he said, trying not to sound too eager. He ran through all the possible places he might be able to swing a favor and jump the line for a female body.
“Girard? Is that you? You sound different.”
Yes, it was Yadikira. His heart thumped hard in his chest and he moved the phone away from his mouth to take a breath and calm down. “Yes, it’s me. I was just…uh…running.”
“Oh, well that explains it then. Should I call back later?”
“No, not at all. I’m glad you called.”
She paused before answering, as if she’d only just realized why he would think she called. “Girard, it’s not about that. I’m not ready.”
Keeping the disappointment out of his voice was surprisingly difficult. He had to do precisely that however, if for no other reason than that pressure often kept a person from changing their minds about things. It was a trait common to vampires as much as humans.
“I understand, and I’m glad to hear from you anyway. How are you?”
The low chuckle that came through the line made Girard’s cheeks warm. What was it with her?
“Girard, you’re not very good at small talk, you know. Actually, I’m calling for a reason. It’s about my mother, Thalia.”
A hundred situations ran through Girard’s mind at the speed of thought. So many things could go wrong when an ancient like Thalia decided to go off the reservation. Almost all of those things were the kind that brought unwanted attention, so he felt a sense of alarm at those few words.
Even as he opened his mouth to speak, Yadikira broke in and said, “Be careful what you say because I don’t know where she is and I have no idea how far she can hear.”
“Wait. She’s gone?”
“No, at least I don’t think so. Only, I don’t know where she is. She’s been gone for longer and longer times since you were here, but she always came back. Now, she’s been gone since last night. I have this feeling that she’s close, but we can’t find her. I’m worried. I promised you I would help her, but…”
“No, this isn’t any fault of yours, Yadikira. What are you supposed to do? Tie her up?”
“I fear that would be a largely unsuccessful venture.”
Girard smiled at her tone, that wry humor she infused her speech with that accepted her situation as it was. She was aged and weak, but not broken by any stretch. He thought for a moment, then asked, “Do you have any idea where she’s been going?”
Yadikira sighed. “I can’t be sure, but Josette says that she’s seen her walking in the woods. Just walking, looking at the trees. She’s never been to this side of the world, so it’s likely we’re quite the wonder to her. Egypt is a place of extremes. I thought I saw her with a cellphone a few days ago. She was outside and walking away quickly, like she didn’t want me to hear anything. It was pink, so it stood out.”
“A cell phone? That’s interesting. It can’t be Christina’s because that one has been disconnected. We checked. And who would she be talking to?”
“I could be mistaken, because I can’t imagine who she might speak with. Perhaps someone from Egypt, someone she met before she took Christina?”
Girard shook his head, then realized that wasn’t actually an answer. His mind went immediately to Borona’s supposition that more than one vampire set the fires, but he couldn’t say that to Yadikira or even ask about it. No matter how kind she might be, a parent holds enormous power. Even if she wanted to keep his confidences, Thalia might get the information out of her. He stuck with the safe and logical answer. “I can’t even begin to imagine. I mean, if she first took the body of a tomb robber, she can’t have much in common with his friends.”
Again Yadikira chuckled. “Oh, you never know with Thalia.”
“So, you think it’s not wise to speak freely?” he asked. He was dying to ask her about that outburst during his interview, the one that put such a look of alarm on Yadikira’s face.
“No, I don’t.”
“Well, then I won’t. What can I do to help you with this?”
“Nothing. If Thalia doesn’t return soon, I’ll call again. I’m worried.”
Girard wanted to reach through the phone and hold her hand, soothe her, calm her. Most of all he wanted to help her move into a new body, one she could repair and heal. He wanted to give her another life. He settled for, “Don’t. This isn’t your worry. Keep calm and tend to yourself. And when you’re ready, be sure to call me. If you’re in quick need, call the emergency number.”
“I will. One way or another, I’ll speak with you soon. Until then…”
“Until then, goodnight Yadikira.”
He looked at the phone for a long time after they disconnected the call. Why hadn’t he met her long ago?
10
The Council was in a tizzy. That’s really the only word Girard could put to it. There were hands fluttering near chests, mouths shaped in shocked O’s, foreheads in hands. It was incredibly annoying, but he remained impassive in front of the camera and screen. After all, he and Lila had been afforded some time to absorb all of Borona’s information while they prepared their presentation to the council. The council members simply had to take it in without the benefit of time for private contemplation.
Not that anyone had time for private contemplation anymore. Not if what they thought had happened was true. Time was now of the essence.
None of the council members were ancient or even venerable. Age didn’t qualify one for a position of power. It was often the opposite. As a vampire aged, they grew less flexible and often more autocratic, more rigid in their viewpoints. Those were not good qualities to have when leadership of an entire species was required. Most of the current members ranged in age from two to four hundred years, with only one member older than Girard at somewhere around eight hundred years. That meant they had lived all of their lives during the time when human power was waxing, their ability to communicate with each other always improving, and human organizations growing ever more complex. The council, therefore, understood the potential danger in what Girard and Lila told them.
One of the youngest council members, Pradish, recovered more quickly and asked, “How old would a vampire have to be in order to consume so many persons so quickly? Assuming that’s the reason they were killed. And were they killed to conceal the vampire’s existence or to conceal a feeding? It’s been twenty years since I fed from a human source, yet I remember it taking an hour or more. Are you sure they weren’t simply murdered?”
Lila slid a hand over to touch Girard’s leg under the table, letting him know that she wanted to answer. At his nod, she scooted forward a little in her chair. “History has always been murky for us, given the general prohibitions of the past regarding written evidence, yet there is sufficient material to support such feeding if we go back to the earliest material. I must reiterate that it’s merely a possibility…a hypothesis, if you will. Up until now, such tales have been widely accepted as allegory or the vampire versions of fairy tales. If they are not actually exaggerated stories, then we must also accept that it is likely any vampire capable of such feeding must be older than any of our recorded history. We’re talking many thousands of years. Once we get past written history, anything becomes possible. So yes, it’s possible this was a feeding gone awry. It’s equally possible that each of the dead was in some way a witness to the vampire’s deeds and killed for that reason. There’s no way to know for sure the why of it, only that it was done and that a vampire did it.”
The chairwoman shook her head and slapped a palm onto the table in a sunny office somewhere far from the compound. The faint sounds of raucous, tropic
al birds came through her microphone. “Then where have they been? We’ve been well organized for centuries. How could the council not encounter even one of these ancients in all that time? That seems preposterous.”
Girard thought he knew that answer. “They’ve been resting, assuming there really are more than one. So far, I’ve only found Thalia.”
The chairwoman scoffed and made a rude noise. “For millennia?”
Girard nodded. “Exactly. You’ve all had a chance to review the Thalia report, but you didn’t meet her. I did. She may be in a child’s body, but she is old. Even her youngest child is an ancient. And though we did have Yadikira in our records, she’s been quiet as a mouse and her age was never known. Think about that. If we’ve had an ancient on our records for almost two hundred years here in America and not known her age, how many others exist all over the world of equal or greater age? And if this Thalia woke now, who’s to say she was resting alone? Who’s to say she didn’t wake up others?”
Girard could see the nervousness on every face on the screens. Vampires didn’t like change, didn’t like the unexpected, and they especially didn’t like to have both of those things at the same time.
Pradish broke the silence and asked, “But we’re not going to call it a feeding, correct? It could have been simply murder? There’s no evidence?”
With a nod, Girard said, “Yes to all your questions questions. We have no firm or absolute proof. It’s possible that the deaths were meant to cover up someone going missing or silence witnesses. I concede that. Of course, it doesn’t matter. Killing humans is against the rules and laws unless very specific conditions for exception are met. I can’t see such conditions covering the deaths of forty people.”
The chairwoman tapped her knuckles on the table and said, “I call for a vote! All who wish the Guardians to investigate this matter at the highest priority and take affirmative—and permanent—action against any vampire who participated in this incident, say aye.”
All save one affirmed the vote and it was passed. Girard snuck a glance at Lila and her expression mirrored his own thoughts. How do we take action against someone so ancient? Was that even possible?
The lone dissenter, Pradish, explained his vote. “We’re being rash! If this was caused by multiple ancients, then we should know why. Why now? And think of what they might be able to tell us! Our history is a source of contention and shrouded in mystery. Between those who cry heresy at evolution and those who believe some magical tale of our ascendance, we don’t even know how we came to exist! I will abide by the vote, of course, but I must register my dissent. We could learn much.”
The chairwoman seemed to listen respectfully, but Girard could tell by the set of her jaw that she wasn’t swayed. He was right. Soon enough the conference ended and he and Lila were left in the conference room, bathed in the light of the blue-screened monitors.
“What do you think?” she finally asked.
“I think they have too high an opinion of our abilities. The only reason we maintain control is because everyone agrees to let the Guardians maintain control. An ancient who didn’t accept being punished could stop any of us. Let’s face facts. I use a gun that shoots water, not bullets. If they didn’t agree to being extracted from a body and put into the pools, I couldn’t force it.”
She sighed, then shook her head. “We have two ancients in the ponds. We could always ask them for information.”
He’d already considered and discarded that idea for the moment. Both of the ancients in the punishment ponds had been there for a long time. Giving them a body merely to ask questions and then expecting them to return to the ponds to continue their sentence wasn’t likely to go over well. And the last thing they needed was another ancient or two to join the fray if they discovered friends were in the world and causing the kind of mayhem that got them put into the ponds.
Lila must have decided the same, because she said, “Maybe not. At least not yet.”
“Agreed.”
“Then what next?” she asked.
“I think we need to commit a little heresy.”
She grinned and said, “Now you’re talking!”
11
Heresy was something of a problem in the world of vampires. Since most vampires alive today were alive before evolution was an accepted scientific theory, the idea that they’d evolved as parasites rather than been created as superior beings was a tough pill to swallow. Vampires didn’t have religion, so to speak, but they had a set of beliefs about themselves. And a very high percentage of vampires were lapsed Catholics or raised to believe the earlier and darker forms of Protestantism. Back then, religion of one form or another was simply the way the world worked.
During Girard’s early life, if you weren’t Catholic, then you were likely part of a culture that would be attacked by Catholics at some point. It might be indelicate to mention that these days, but the world wasn’t always as gentle as it was now. Beliefs formed over such a long time weren’t easily shaken off, particularly when new information painted a picture of a species less like the divine and more like the devil. Girard had four hundred years of Catholic mass under his belt, yet even in the three hundred or so since he and religion had parted ways, he found it difficult to accept that the world wasn’t created in a single, beautiful breath.
Changing minds wasn’t easy and in the past, more than one scientific-minded vampire had been sent to the ponds for suggesting a different origin for vampires. That didn’t happen so much anymore—after all, vampires were trying to be more modern—but it wasn’t something anyone talked about. Superstitions were difficult to erase because they were usually so much more palatable and flattering than reality.
Even the modern interpretation of vampires by humans was tinged by magic and superstition…and not even close to the truth. And real vampires preferred that over the idea of intelligent leeches.
Seeking out a scientific heretic was therefore somewhat problematic. Borona came in handy with that, searching the records of known vampires for the right combination of factors. It didn’t take as long as Girard had feared. A professor of marine biochemistry at the University of South Carolina seemed like exactly the right sort. A series of phone calls eventually revealed a vampire absolutely filled with heretical ideas. It was a lucky break.
Lila and Girard suffered a miserable flight packed like sardines to the Columbia airport. They usually didn’t fly because body scanners were used in too many airports, but this time they managed to get flights that wouldn’t require that. At least they got a decent sized rental car, which gave them room to stretch out and improve their moods on their way to the meeting.
Professor Doran met the pair at a picnic area off the interstate. A small, nervous man, he looked at them as if he were in the presence of executioners rather than the keepers of order. It was obvious he’d not had a lot of interactions with Guardians prior to this, or at least not positive ones.
Lila took the lead and poured on the charm. When she shook his hand, she gripped it in both of hers, patting his hand and keeping his gaze for a beat longer than required. “It’s so very good of you to see us on such short notice. And I know the subject is touchy, but we’re here to learn. You might save many lives, both vampire and human, by talking to us.”
Her soft voice and warm gaze must have worked, because the tension bled away like she’d shot him with a tranquilizer dart. Girard suppressed a smile. He was pretty sure the professor might have just fallen in love at first sight.
They settled down at one of the covered picnic tables with bottles of soda to make their presence look legitimate. The professor looked at each of them and said, “I just want your assurance that I’m not going to wind up swimming in a fish tank for a century for talking to you. I’ve had a chance to read the brief you sent, and I think I can make some sense of it for you, but I don’t want to pay for helping. This body may not be much, but it’s mine and I love my job.”
Lila laughed a little at his phrasi
ng, then leaned across the table to pat his hand again. “You have my word. No one will even know we spoke.”
Doran sighed—definitely love at first sight—then splayed his hands on the table. “Okay, so how much do you know about evolution? And how much of it have you heard about before.” He met Girard’s gaze and gave a little nod, before adding, “I can see you’re very old, so you must have heard some of this.”
“Not really. You’d be surprised how little some of us know. I’ve been a Guardian a long time and, as you already alluded, being too curious about things like that can get a vampire tossed out of their body and into the pond. I’ve heard a little, enough to know that we likely evolved from an aquatic species that preyed upon humans, but that’s it.”
He nodded as if this were no more than he expected. “And you’re an historian?”
Lila pointed to herself, then said, “That’s me. I know only what I’ve gathered from reading history, but I’ve got a good imagination and I can guess at more.”
“It’s not hard once you get past the initial idea of evolution. I’ve done some genetic testing off the books, but not much since I don’t want to get caught. It’s not enough to be concrete, but enough to put me on the right path.”
“So, what are we? Leeches or lions?” Lila asked.
Professor Doran laughed. “Would you believe that it might actually be both?”
Girard liked the sound of that. “Now that’s an opening meant to please a crowd. Tell us everything.”
“Okay, start with the stories we’re all told about the Cave of Creation. Long ago, humans were no different from any animal, basically non-sentient. The elders like to say that we were the only things sentient on all the Earth, and somehow or another, the first of us called humans into the cave and joined with them, but because we were superior, we were masters of their bodies. Then…yada, yada, yada…we created civilization and all that stuff. End of story, right?”
