Brett typed away on his desktop angled at a forty-five degree angle. It resembled a drafting table, and was devoid of any content except for the virtual user interface overlaid onto the surface. From this console, he could interface with any system linked to their network.
“Picked it up an hour ago,” Brett replied. “This one was big enough to trigger every sensor we have. The strongest signals were from our listening stations near here, but our sensors in Australia also registered it.”
“Impressive,” Mason said.
“No kidding,” Breanna quipped.
There was excitement that permeated the air; it felt like a current was flowing between them. No one said it, and to do so would be tempting fate, but this might be their chance to get off of this primordial ooze covered rock.
“How long have I been here?” Mason wondered.
He had memories of the steam age and Pax Britannia, but little else prior to that. Still, that meant he had been on this backwater planet for more than a century. They had been busy manipulating world events or influencing key players to their benefit. All the while, they posed as a neutral party, one that sold technology to both sides of the conflict.
Every attempt made to shift things in their favour triggered an opposing force that returned the system to an equilibrium. They were responsible for plunging Europe into a continental war, all in an effort to weaken the vampire’s power base. Instead, they watched as their corruption spread westward into North America, which created an even stronger power base.
The activation of a gate into the Hunters’ stronghold, followed by an attack, only magnified the zealotry of those left behind. They never got the all-out war they hoped for, since the bulk of their hunters remained within the confines of the Tower. Meanwhile, one of their best managed to destroy an influential vampire which struck a serious blow to several projects their group favoured.
That time, they had a-thousand-to-one odds that the balance of power would remain the same. That had been seen as more than favourable odds, but this? Was this even possible?
“Georgians,” Mason said absentmindedly. “What an awful choice of name for our kind.”
“What was that?” Breanna asked.
Mason’s glassy stare ended with a quick shake of his head. He desperately wanted to return to his normal form, have his cybernetic implants returned, and be linked once more to the hive’s group consciousness. Alas, the presence of such implants were not only incompatible with their physiology, they would also raise some uncomfortable questions if discovered.
“What?” Mason asked. “Nothing. So what’s going on that could bring about such a dramatic shift?”
Brett’s fingers glided over the interface with ease. Every button and available option had been committed to memory long ago. The user had an intimacy with the interface that only existed between a creator and its creation.
“Look here,” Brett said.
They collectively looked up at the wall connected to the desk. The surface broke up into millions of tiny colour-shifting squares that moved independently from the whole to display a three dimensional image. In this case, the moment rendered had yet to occur.
Mason looked over every detail of the scene, but did not understand how any of this would alter world events in their favour. This scene was more deserving of a soap opera than a chapter in the history books.
There were three visible, only one of whom was human. The display included a series of overlays, which included a biometrics overview for each individual, and only one registered a body temperature above ambient.
The human sported short blonde hair cut into a fashionable pixie cut. Her pale blue eyes, sharp features and feminine nose would have made her attractive, if not for that mousey demeanour, and obvious physical exhaustion. This was all part of the ritual, he supposed, since Breanna had not briefed him otherwise, nor bothered to explain why the woman’s clothes hung loosely from her frame.
The young girl was a real knockout, what with those piercing green eyes, shoulder length dark hair, and a body better suited to world class runway models. She had lips that beckoned and a smile that promised so much.
The man was harder to make out. Dark hair and dark eyes enabled him to melt into the shadows. While shorter in stature, he was built like the strong men of old. Mason identified this one as an ancient specimen of their kind, one who had no trouble letting his partner take the lead.
Mason and his kind had seen this place before: the altar and the pit filled with an endless supply of blood.
“Wait. Is that the Icon of Sin?” Brett asked with a snicker.
Breanna slapped the back of Brett’s head before responding, “Why do you keep bringing up that video game reference when we get footage of this site?”
“Hey!” Brett exclaimed. “I loved that game. Besides, the name fits.”
In a way, it did. This hall of worship featured a pedestal and icons that celebrated the cruelest of despots, psychopaths, and murderers. This was a holy site where their kind practised some of their darkest rituals.
“Situation?” Mason asked, since it was time to get things on track.
Breanna looked away from the display and took a seat at her own workstation. At first, she appeared to be absorbing a great deal of information, but soon, she commented on the situation.
“Initiation ceremony,” Breanna said. “The brunette, Evelyn, has been manipulating that blonde since early childhood.”
“To what end?” Mason asked, genuinely curious since it was rare for their kind to toy with their food for so long.
“Evelyn made sure to keep this child away from anything that could spoil her innocence,” Breanna replied.
“Woman looks to be in her late twenties. How could she—,” Mason was about to ask.
“Still a virgin,” Breanna said flatly. “Recent events led her to quit her job and start writing a story that centred on Evelyn’s life… a bit of a mind fuck ensued to prepare her… her parents were killed to start the process… Wait! Fascinating!”
“What?” the men asked.
“A herald,” Breanna said.
“I don’t follow,” Mason said.
“The predictive algorithms are still forming the narrative,” Breanna said. “But if this divergent path is strengthened, Victoria, the blonde, will chronicle the systematic eradication of vampires.”
“How would her being turned lead to their extinction?” Mason queried.
“The company her parents founded is heavily invested in the government’s military industrial complex,” Breanna replied. “Her disappearance has been noticed and will trigger an investigation to determine her whereabouts. This leads to a SWAT team being decimated in an attempt to save her, which in turn, exposes their kind’s existence to the general public.”
Once they realised how this divergent path panned out, the current that flowed amongst them increased exponentially. Their hopes rose, and despite years of experience telling them to temper their expectations, they all cracked a smile.
“What’s the primary path?” Mason asked.
Brett turned around and beamed a smile before saying, “Just enough of that scenario has solidified to show you.”
* * * *
There was a long pause as the group collectively assimilated what had been projected before their eyes. The men were clearly distraught by the way the vampire ended Victoria’s life. They were even disgusted by the outward display of inhumanity, however, Breanna was far more subdued.
“That was brutal,” Brett said astonished.
Breanna snorted before countering, “She’s done a lot worse! That was pretty merciful, actually.”
“Really?” Brett asked.
“Yeah,” Breanna replied. “Almost a hundred years ago, three seasoned investigators were committed after investigating one of her more creative murders.”
“Bullshit,” the men said in unison.
“It’s true!” Breanna exclaimed. “We were dating at the time—�
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“No way!” They exclaimed in unison, appearing like a badly rehearsed comedy skit.
“You mean she’s not—,” Mason inquired.
“Straight?” Breanna asked. “She hates men and wants nothing to do with them.”
“So, what—,” Brett demanded.
“Their relationship… is complicated. It was never physical,” Breanna replied. “Although I’d avoid bringing that up in her company.”
“How did you two cross paths?” Brett asked, snooping around for some gossip.
“She was at the Grand during its construction,” Breanna said as though reliving a dream. “You two sent me there to establish our lab in that region, remember?”
Evelyn had been searching for a model, and conveniently, Breanna was bored out of her skull. Establishing an outpost on the site had been a cinch, and would not return on investments until years later.
Breanna concealed a slight smile, as she thought back to her first experience in human sexuality. Evelyn may have been a vampire, but she was more than adept at teaching her the ins and outs. To this day, no one could even hope to approximate that woman’s skill.
“Attentive, determined, and utterly sensual. Is there a better combination for a lover?” Breanna asked herself.
“A small reward for allowing me capture your beauty in stone,” Evelyn whispered that day in bed, after a particularly vigorous session.
“What’s with you and women at the Grand?” Mason asked. When Breanna did not clue in to what he alluded to, he added, “The girl with hundreds of past lives?”
Breanna’s eyes narrowed a moment before they exploded in a bright glow. It was obvious to the others that memories of that brief interlude had also been memorable.
“Hey!” Breanna exclaimed. “She came onto me and didn’t care that my appearance was artificial, or that my hips were well-suited for childbearing. Besides, the experiences gained from having lived a hundred lifetimes… helped us to consolidate centuries of human history.”
“Did you two bond over the beating heart research?” Brett asked.
Breanna glared at Brett, and for a moment looked as though she were about to gouge his eyes out. The opportunity to study and dissect an immortal, should have been her ticket out of here. Unfortunately, someone managed to steal that beating heart in a jar, which invalidated all associated research. To this day, these two knuckleheads never failed to rub salt in the wound.
“Did Anna Hunter tell you that?” Breanna asked Brett to dredge up another experiment that went sideways for the group.
While Breanna maintained her composure, Brett reacted violently. He slammed the surface of his workstation, which caused a display element to shift; a virtual dial changed from a dark green to a deep red.
“Just because you two look like the descendants of apes,” Mason said. “It doesn’t mean that you have to fling shit at each other!”
Breanna and Brett looked down to avoid the gaze of the expedition’s senior scientist. While Mason was stuck here like the rest, they both knew he had the authority to make things worse, all in the name of research.
“So, what now?” Mason asked to get these two back on track.
“We—We are roughly two minutes away from exploiting the alternate path,” Breanna said.
“The tachyon generators are primed, capacitors charged, and waveform generators are set for optimal insertion,” Brett said.
Mason knew the rest. They would target the area in space, and time where the differing paths began. They had no other recourse, since Evelyn’s current choice did not align with their goals.
“One minute to divergent path,” Breanna said.
By targeting just the right point, they could shift the probability of Evelyn making a choice they favoured. Using this method, they could alter coin tosses, or shift the tides of war.
“Thirty seconds,” Breanna announced.
Breanna pulled out her mobile device, something the others never embraced. While the men avoided human contact and the pleasures that came with such interactions, she saw it as a way to better integrate and disappear into the crowd.
“Twenty seconds,” Breanna said.
She checked for notifications, but there were none. A tinge of disappointment overcame her, but she realised that it was late, and that people needed to sleep. Well, so did she, but they had ways to push themselves beyond the limits of human endurance.
“Ten seconds,” Breanna said with a hint of excitement.
All they needed was a well-timed nudge. Fortunately, the precise set of calculations computed, made that part easy.
“Five… four… three… two… one… now!” Breanna exclaimed.
Brett tapped a button on his virtual interface. For a second, the lights flickered and dimmed before going out entirely. The trio were frozen like deer caught in headlights, silent witnesses to every piece of equipment in their lab powering down.
“What’s going on?” Mason asked, while obviously annoyed, or at least he would be, if the lights were on. “We have enough generating capacity to power half the continent.”
Before anyone could reply, a large wave of energy originating from the centre of the building passed right through them. Mason could not help but wonder if this phenomenon was linked to their equipment failure.
“Oops,” Brett said to break the silence.
* * * *
For a moment, Evelyn considered baiting Victoria to make sure she still had the woman’s full support. There were conditions to their way of life and choice featured prominently amongst the core tenants of their faith.
“How odd,” Evelyn whispered.
That nagging voice in the back of her thoughts had gone silent. A general sense of laissez-faire permeated her mind which only served to strengthen the moral certainty that everything was above board.
Victoria noticed that Evelyn was silent, either for effect or as a part of the ritual; either way, Victoria did not care. She knew that her character was aware of her thoughts, so why the inaction? In all honesty, she found the concept intriguing and frightening. How many wanted someone to truly understand how they felt in times of need? Especially during their darkest hour? Evelyn was, in a way, a kindred spirit, or perhaps some twisted version of the fairy godmother.
“What did Evelyn choose?” Victoria wondered.
She never realised how all of this had been part of the show, a deliberate period of inaction to distract and deceive, to keep her blissfully unaware of what lurked behind her.
In the background, the smooth and reflective surface of the blood pool began to congeal. This transformation brought about tendrils began to move in a coherent mass out of the pool. The creature was drawn to Victoria, seeking out that one element lacking in the rest of this room: the spark of life.
Once the creature was within a sliver of that spark, Evelyn’s smile changed. Victoria focused on Evelyn as the empress’ arm came forward. The hand then formed into a fist before extending a lone thumb, which was pointed towards the floor. Victoria gasped, not knowing that this would be her last breath. The thing latched on, and dragged her into the depths.
Before Victoria realised what was going on, her vision had turned red. Above, she saw nothing more than a point of light growing smaller with every passing second. Perhaps panic should have set in which would have left her flaying about like a fish out of water, but this was ludicrous! Left to drown in a pool of blood after a chance meeting with one’s own creation? Surely, it was more likely that she was suffering from psychosis?
At first, she saw nothing more than fading light, but as time passed and her need to breathe grew, a black substance crept up from out of the depths. It seemed disjointed, lacking any form, and Victoria wondered which part of her mind had conjured up this apparition.
When the spectre took a definite shape, she realised how literal Evelyn’s words were. The light peering from the surface represented the light of God, while the creature below would assist her in turning away. Turnin
g away? No, those words did not apply. She would not be torn away from his divine presence and sentenced to suffer the same fate as that whore!
Victoria tried to break away from the tentacles’ grasp by pushing against the walls, using what was left of her strength. Nothing seemed to be effective, even digging her nails into the rough edges of the wall did nothing more than tear them off. She knew that time was limited, and that her life would soon be forfeit unless she broke free. With her body drawing upon the last of its reserves, reality set in: her chance for escape was long gone.
As the darkness reached Victoria, the creature released its iron grip while the spectre embraced her. The spectre’s hold was oddly comforting, like a mother rocking her child to sleep. With her lungs burning for air, Victoria calmed. Intent on leaving this world on her own terms, she took a deep breath which filled her lungs with fluid. In that moment, Victoria found something that evaded her for most of her life. Peace.
The Van Helsing Resurgence Page 5
