Nighter

by Magdalena Kozak

  ***

  “Kill the motherfuckers, kill,” Wojtek muttered his daily mantra. “Crush every single one.”

  “Have they ever done anything to you?” Jerzy finally lost it. “Where is this obsession coming from? What do you hate them so much for? Have you met a vampire even once?”

  “How can you say that?” Maria defended Wojtek immediately. “You read books after all, you watch movies. You must understand that humans and vampires have always been enemies. On top of that, they are repulsive...”

  “Conflict of interest, that’s clear to me” Arlecki said calmly. “Since vampires kill people, they have all the reasons to defend themselves. But it’s hard to blame anyone here. Vampires want to live, so they have to eat. When you watch a lion chasing the antelope on Discovery channel, who do you root for? Are you on lion or antelope’s side?”

  Maria shook her head in disgust.

  “That’s got nothing to do with it,” she said angrily. “The lion has to eat, that’s a fact. It’s hard to expect him to starve to death because of mercy for the antelope. But a vampire is a human who walked over to that dark side somewhat by choice. He could kill himself so he wouldn’t have to commit murders.”

  “From the point of view of the ham you had for breakfast, you are horrible serial killer,” he didn’t let up. “And what? Did you kill yourself?”

  All three stared at him... and suddenly he understood he’d made a grave mistake. He’d revealed himself: he was not on their side, and never would be. They now knew it for sure. Maybe that was better; the game would finally end.

  “If they attack us, we have to defend ourselves,” he said point blank. “But let’s not add artificial ideology to it, all right?”

  “You are an excellent candidate for a vampire,” she said scornfully. “They need such... relativists the most!”

  “Oh, Miss Lieutenant!” he spat sarcastically. “I so regret nobody offered it to me so far. I lost a chance of a lifetime, it would seem. Did you have a chance like that? You were offered eternal life, indestructible beauty, and constant youth? As I understand, you didn’t accept...” he broke off. One glance at her face told him he had gone too far.

  She was silent for a moment, and a deep blush colored her cheeks. In the end, she shrugged and burst out laughing. Wojtek and Staszek joined her, as if they enjoyed a great joke.

  “Kid’s all right,” Maria said standing up. “He’s got a sense of humor. And it’s not easy to screw with him... well, well, well.”

  She walked up to Jerzy, and extended her hand toward him. He squeezed it mechanically, observing his colleague carefully, because he didn’t believe this sudden transformation. Maria sat at her desk, looking up at him brightly. She threw a short look at her coworkers. Her colleagues followed in her footsteps and walked up to him and shook his hand, patted his back, and went back to their desks.

  Jerzy began to put his papers in order. He forced a nice, friendly smile. If that was a small acceptance ritual, then thank you, pleasure was all his. It was nice to be in on their joke now.

  But something told him it wasn’t a joke. Intuition literally warned him against a nasty trap. He felt something untouchable swath him in a slippery, wet net.

  What the fuck was going on? He kept thinking... they are screwing with me... but how?

  “Okay, so since we can talk to you normally,” Staszek said, “then listen. Tonight, or tomorrow at the latest, there will be some serious action.”

  “Yes?” Jerzy stared at him with interest.

  He felt hope growing within him shyly. Maybe he would really find out what all this was about.

  “We found out that a vampire lord is coming to Warsaw,” Staszek announced. “Lord Warrior Ultor. He will stay briefly, maybe a day, two tops. He’s going to meet with his vampire family. Maybe with others too, who knows?”

  Arlecki wallowed, the hope of honest conversation burst immediately. So we keep at it, and let’s see how it all ends, he thought. All right, you want to play, let’s do it. Just a throw of the dice, nothing to lose anymore.

  “As I understand, the nighters will take care of him?” he risked, observing his colleagues carefully.

  They weren’t surprised at all when he mentioned the nighters, or that he knew the name. Nighters, normal thing, every child knows about them.

  “Oh yes, that’s it,” Staszek nodded eagerly. “Nighters, you probably already saw them. Very agile, really well trained. They’ll take care of Ultor right and proper.”

  “How strong is that lord?” Jerzy said, trying to show honest interest in his voice. “And what does he do that there is so much force needed for him? Kills with a look or something?”

  “You wouldn’t be able to handle his glare,” Staszek said. “Not more than few seconds. If you ever get to meet him, don’t look him in the eyes.”

  “And when you do meet him, say Salve Domine!” Wojtek advised him. “That might make him friendly to you, who knows.”

  They’re fucked up, Jerzy thought for heavens knew how many times, looking at his colleagues with a polite smile, though he shivered inside, like he was chilled all the way to his bone marrow. Maybe they were preparing something really messed up.

  “And be polite in general,” Maria said seriously. “Remember, Ultor isn’t just anyone. After all, he is several hundred years old. Keep yourself together if anything.”

  He nodded eagerly, trying not to show any other emotions. This must have been some prank and they were setting him up, he thought fleetingly. They hadn’t accepted anyone new in a long time, and now they had a scapegoat handed to them on a silver platter. As ordered. Damn it.

  The face of Professor Zielinski, who humiliated him during each visit at the hospital, swam before his eyes. Then he loosened up, and under some pretense contacted him with one of his colleagues. That one recruited him to ISA, without particular difficulties, anyway. Arlecki took the offer with enthusiasm, because he dreamed for years to get out from that hopeless, monotonous existence.

  But now, he chewed on that old Chinese curse “May you live in interesting times,” paining over his own stupidity. He’d wanted change. He’d imagined being this fantastic Polish James Bond. And now what, they’d finish him off after first fifteen minutes of the first act, and that’s the end of the show, thank you. Well, at least they’ll continue having fun. But hey, ISA is not preschool. The strongest ones would survive. Weak ones shouldn’t get into situations like that, otherwise they could only blame themselves. After all, everyone goes in at their own risk.

  “Thanks for the good advice,” he muttered to his colleagues, and turned back to the computer.

  He took to working in a gloomy silence, scanning further documents with his eyes. They didn’t speak any more either. Just stole mysterious glances in his direction now and then.

  He was lost in thought once more. What was going on here? Why was I recruited? He was never particularly athletic, didn’t do any sports... well, except diving long time ago. He doubted that this non-combat ability was the reason he was considered a good ISA candidate. So physical advantages were out, which Morawski proved to him beyond all doubts. So what else did they take into account when they invited him in? He hadn’t shown some super intelligence, yes, he did well in testing, although not overly brilliant. Like, he couldn’t test for MENSA, because it would simply be a waste of time.

  Some mental predispositions? Well, he could be quite flexible and consistent at the same time, and maybe that’s what the professor saw in him, since he had put him in touch with the ISA. But on the other hand, Jerzy had never showed super sales in his region, which didn’t bode well for his actions’ effectiveness.

  So what was all this about? Why did they want him here, what was he needed for? Why set up this prank with vampires, their lords, and black-clad space commando guys running around the forest? What was his place, his role in this show?

  On his part, he knew exactly why he’d come here. He was suffocating in that colorless, neutral l
ife, and he’d desperately needed a change. Car, leathers, cellphones didn’t mean anything to him... he tossed it all away as soon as he got the ISA position offer. He came here for real joke-money, because he yearned for something new, special, and had hoped that this something awaited him right here.

  But why did they take him in?

  He’d asked himself that question since the very beginning, and so far, he couldn’t find any reasonable answer.

  Except maybe one, that came to mind last, when all other options were eliminated.

  They took him in because he was alone. His parents were dead, his girlfriend had left him some time ago, and he didn’t feel like any other one for now.

  He was just alone, that was a fact.

  So, just in case, he wouldn’t answer uncomfortable questions. Perfect scapegoat right there.

  Not a very cheerful thought. But so far, there was no other reason. Or at least, he hadn’t thought of it yet.

  ***

  The rest of the day flew by under a cloud of increasing uneasiness. Even the shooting range activities he’d grown to like already, didn’t soothe him. His results from that evening were his worst yet, all beyond alpha field, and in a pathetic little grouping. He just couldn’t focus at all.

  It was as if some evil fate hung over him, and he felt it, but couldn’t determine where or how the danger would show up.

  ***

  “Private Arlecki! Get up!” Someone jerked his arm, waking him up.

  Jerzy raised heavy lids with difficulty. He saw Morawski, who leaned over him with a serious expression on his face. He lamely stuck his hand under the pillow, looking for his gun. He felt its edgy shape, and pulled it out slowly. There was no point in acting tough now. He’d been like a baby in his sleep, anyway.

  “The major decided you need to see to believe,” the captain threw in briskly. “We’re taking you on action as backup.”

  Arlecki sat up immediately, piercing him with questioning eyes.

  “You have to be in the departure hall in five minutes,” the other man said. “Proper departure prep is winding up, but it doesn’t matter to you. You’ll get some insignificant, safe job. We just need you to observe, and believe. Otherwise you’ll be useless to us.” He turned around and left the room, slamming the door hurriedly.

  Jerzy jumped out of bed and began dressing quickly. He would finally find out what all of it was about. And whether they were screwing with him nastily... or if they really had something to show him.

  He got out into the hallway, and started toward the departure hall. The hallway was nearly all dark, and he barely recognized shapes running past him. He was startled by the number of people in the building. Up until this point, he’d only met his room colleagues, Morawski, and technical personnel: cooks, janitors, and administrators. Now, a black river of people flooded the hallway and carried Jerzy with them.

  Lights, fuck it, the dog is up! a brief thought flashed through his mind when he approached the departure hall. He entered it quickly. It was quite dark there too, just a few weak bulbs, twenty-watt tops, send a nauseating glow from the ceiling.

  Tactical darkness! he thought. The building was considered a White Intelligence branch; the presence of fielders couldn’t be widely known...

  He glanced at windows tightly covered with blinds and smirked. So he wasn’t so pathetic; he’d put some facts together after all.

  He starts to click it together. Like a child in the fog, another thought appeared.

  The nighters had obviously been there for some time already, and their prep was almost over. Several pairs of eyes studied a picture displayed by a multimedia projector. Now they all turned to face the newcomer.

  “We finished the prep,” a tall, slim, dark-haired man with the rank of major said to Jerzy. “I’ll brief you in. We are starting the final stage of Operation ‘Faust’,” he said solemnly. “Lord Ultor will appear in Warsaw in two hours. He plans to meet local vampire community reps.”

  The people present nodded in silence.

  Jerzy felt a shiver of dread run down his back. A vampire lord mentioned in an official briefing! Would the whole facility participate in this show just for one recruit? No, that didn’t seem credible, the intrigue had to run deeper...

  “The party’s happening at a private property just a few miles away from here,” the major turned to the screen displaying the building plan. “A renovated mansion in Wiazowna, one of many like this one these days.”

  Red laser dot ran over symbols in which Arlecki recognized different units. “Snipers will secure the area from local trees. Assault groups take care of all the entrances and corridors,” the major briefed him. “You will take care of orangery. It’s located to the side, so we don’t expect the enemy there. We’re more concerned with a human unit getting lost in the night, and messing up our plans,” he announced dryly. “You will be using a conventional weapon. Oh, and don’t be too hasty to use it,” he emphasized. “I don’t want any civilian victims, it’s hard to get out of it later. And stay in contact. If you see anyone, don’t try to act alone, but call the nighters. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir!” Jerzy confirmed eagerly.

  “Then get going!” the major said. “By the cars in fifteen minutes, all of you. Full equipment and weapons. March!”

  The nighters jumped up immediately and ran out of the hall, speeding toward the armory in an even formation. Jerzy ran with them, feeling his heart thud. He didn’t know whether it was out of fear or excitement.

  ***

  The orangery was dark, cold, and quiet.

  Filled with empty stone flowerpots, it wasn’t the easiest location to guard. Jerzy wandered around it for a bit before he found a spot good enough to observe all of the windows and the door.

  He stood now with his back glued to a stone column. At first, the adrenaline made him forget his weariness. He glued his vision, enhanced by night-vision goggles, into one window after another. He observed the area, full of tension. Fear came in waves, shook him, forcing the heart to thud in an insane race. After a moment the fear would abate... only to come back again.

  When after a half hour, more or less, nothing happened, he unfroze a bit. He began to feel what was happening to his body. It sweated uncontrollably under pounds of equipment. The bulletproof vest was stiff and uncomfortable, the tactical vest thrown over it—filled to the brim with spare ammo—was further weight. He was harnessed really badly, because he’d rushed to put everything on. Besides, his experience with it was nearly zero. And the gun holder was hanging loose from his thigh, hitting his leg painfully. But the other thigh was tightened too much, and started to go numb already. His tactical boots were laced too tight as well, and his feet were getting stiff. The machine gun, an MP5, which seemed so light at first, now seemed like it was made out of lead as he held it tightly in his hands. On top of it all, the Kevlar helmet was too loose, and wobbled a bit when Jerzy moved his head. And since the night-vision goggles were partially attached to said helmet, his field of vision was limited, constantly changing and unpredictable at that.

  Anger joined fear, supported by a feeling of humiliation. Here he was, a commando in action. Ass to the nth power... not a commando, he thought. Time to stop making fool of yourself, Mr. Arlecki. In separating men from chickens, you know which category you are in. So it’s time for you to go. It’s important to know when to get up and walk away.

  Well, definitely not right this second. Not in the middle of action. His unit colleagues were there. Well, okay, he didn’t actually know any of them, and he wasn’t even sure if they were on his side. But despite all that, he couldn’t think of backing out, because there might be some deeper truth to all of it, which he didn’t understand yet. So he wouldn’t run away, whatever happened. No way. They wouldn’t forgive him, and he wouldn’t forgive himself either.

  Darkness was falling over the mansion, as if a cloud of black smoke stuck to everything and stayed forever.

  Shhooot, shooo, shoooo... some so
und was heard in the gloom. Jerzy listened on, feeling his heart pick up its pace, and his hands shook a little bit. That sound was... a helicopter. Shooo, shooo, shooo, those would be its blades cutting through the air. Quiet for now, so they were either far away or the helicopter has some silencer. Either way, it had started.

  Jerzy straightened, picked up his MP5 and pressed it to his shoulder. He began to observe the area through the optic scope, training the end of the gun at it, as if it was joined with his body movements. A circle with a cross ran across windows, walls, doors...

  Not a single movement, nothing.

  Suddenly, a piercing sound filled his head. As if it was a huge choir of welcoming screams, on the pinnacle of happiness.

  Arlecki glanced around in panic, but it was still empty around him. The sound seemed not to have a source; it didn’t come from any particular direction, it was simply everywhere, it ripped into his brain... Jerzy understood suddenly, stiffened, and a cold sweat covered his back. The voices sounded directly in his head... his ears didn’t detect anything.

  “Salve, Domine!” he thought powerfully.

  He shivered, realizing another fact. It wasn’t his thought. It came from outside too, from other people’s minds, just like that previous sound.

  “Salvete, fratres!” a most powerful voice sounded in his head.

  And then everything went silent.

  Jerzy swallowed. His fear evaporated somewhere, his frustration and anger were gone, too. He began to sweep his surroundings with measured, careful looks. He was determined as he analyzed and converted data and made decisions automatically. Emotions left him; he was fully focused on his target.

  A mission. Fulfill the mission.

  The mansion was still, filled with deep silence. Jerzy’s eyes jumped from window to window, making sure nobody uninvited planned to get into orangery. His vision, modified and green by the night-vision goggles, gave off an alien impression, like he was viewing another planet.

  Arlecki kept checking out the area, diligently, carefully.

  And then, touched with a sudden impulse, he turned toward the exit. His legs buckled under him in fear.