Blood Royal

by Will McDermott

  Lysanne landed hard and her ankle crumpled under her as she fell to the ground in a heap. She looked up just in time to see the Spyrer, a hole burned clean through her chest, falling to the ground as well. But her moment of victory was short-lived. She could hear the vampire moving up behind her

  Lysanne tried to stand, but screamed as she put weight on her shattered ankle. She fell back to the ground right in front of the vampire. Before he could reach her, another set of explosions rocked the square and four more gangers entered the battle.

  The vampire fell back and Lysanne took advantage of the moment to crawl away, trying to get as much space between her and the vampire as possible. As she crawled, Lysanne got a look at the new gang and recognised one of them as the Spyrer leader who ordered Ashya’s death. He wasn’t wearing his rig anymore, but his face had been burned into her memory.

  ‘What the hell’s going on downhive?’ bellowed Helmawr, as Hermod Kauderer walked into the darkened chamber. He seems to be spending all of his time in here lately, considered Kauderer. He had been told that the darkness helped regulate the man’s moods, but there had been no evidence of that so far as he could tell.

  Kauderer nodded to the other advisors as he stepped into the glaring light in front of their master’s desk.

  ‘Well?’ asked Helmawr. ‘Report. I hear that work has all but stopped in Hive City. Explain yourself, Kauderer.’

  Kauderer had also been informed that Helmawr was lucid but livid today. It was always a coin flip whether you would get the angry and efficient master or the forgetful and childlike one. But Kauderer had never seen Lord Helmawr quite this manic before. He decided to accommodate the old man as much as possible. He smiled at his lord, or at least tried to smile. On him a smile always looked more like a snake about to hiss than anything a warm-blooded animal could muster.

  ‘Sire, the Hivers are afraid because Armand has been terrorising them,’ replied Kauderer. Best to couch the lies in as much truth as possible. ‘Once the matter has been handled, production will return to normal, and no one has linked the attacks to House Helmawr. Everyone believes the deaths have been caused by a mutant from the Hive bottom. They call him the Underhive Vampire, sire. There has been nothing to suggest any connection to House Helmawr.’

  ‘That’s not completely true, sire,’ interjected Obidiah Clein. ‘I have reports that describe Spyrer activity in the Underhive as well – Helmawr Spyrers to be exact. The entire place is turning into a war zone.’

  Kauderer glared at Clein. Where was he getting his reports from, he wondered. Kauderer thought that perhaps he ought to put an agent on Clein as well. But first, a little misinformation to cloud the issue. ‘It is not terribly surprising that some in the Hive have seen Armand’s Spyrer rig for what it is, and were not fooled into thinking him some sort of monster,’ he replied. ‘But the prevailing story is still that an Underhive Vampire has come up from the Hive bottom to feed. Lacking any physical evidence, any other theory will soon be forgotten.’

  He turned to Obidiah and spoke directly to the wily politician. ‘And as for the Hive being a war zone, that is the common state for Hivers. Their reality is one of daily terror and death – a state you should become more familiar with very soon.’

  The thinly veiled threat seemed to have an effect on Clein. Certainly the other advisors took note of it, for they all had taken this moment to stare at their shoes. Kauderer turned back toward the desk. ‘The matter will be taken care of quite soon, my lord,’ he stated. ‘And rest assured there will be no physical evidence left behind to implicate this House.’

  ‘Be sure I do not hear otherwise,’ said Helmawr. The lights went out on his desk, leaving the advisors in a completely black room.

  ‘I recognise them,’ said Valtin as they all turned toward the new arrival. ‘Jonas, Cyklus, Leoni, and Grell. That’s the Spyrer team, minus their rigs.’

  ‘What, more relatives?’ asked Kal.

  Valtin nodded.

  ‘Great. We’ll have the reunion later.’ Kal looked around. The Escher were regrouping around Vicksen in the middle of the square. Armand had one exit street blocked, but had stopped for the moment. The Spyrers now had the other exit street blocked, and were advancing.

  ‘Where in the Hive are the enforcers?’ asked Scabbs.

  ‘Holed up with the rest of Hive City,’ replied Kal. ‘Would you want to face that vampire if you didn’t have to?’

  ‘I have to and I don’t want to,’ whined Scabbs as he scratched at the red skin on his wrists.

  ‘Fine,’ said Jerico. ‘We’ll take out the Spyrers and get out. Let the Eschers deal with Arma… the vampire. Then we’ll come back when it’s calmed down and pick up the trail.’

  Scabbs nodded. Yolanda looked briefly at Vicksen and then nodded as well. Valtin patted Kal on the shoulder and said, ‘I’ll meet you at Fewell’s later,’ and ran off toward Armand.

  ‘What in the Hive is he doing?’ asked Yolanda.

  ‘Being a fool,’ replied Kal.

  ‘Or a hero,’ added Scabbs as he pumped a shell into the shotgun.

  ‘Same thing,’ said Kal. He pulled out his laspistols and jumped over the stone bench, laser blasts leading the way. ‘Wotan, attack,’ he called back. The metal dog leaped out and quickly overtook his master, bounding toward the incoming Spyrers as Kal ran to keep up.

  Vicksen and Themis stood back to back in the middle of the square. Both had re-armed with weapons from fallen Wildcats. Vicksen had a plasma gun while Themis had picked up a spare stubber and was loosing a hail of bullets at the vampire. A dozen Wildcats were on the ground, at least half of those from the last set of explosions. The rest, mostly juves, had fled before the second gang showed up.

  ‘Who in the Hive are they?’ asked Themis. She was keeping the vampire at bay with the constant stubber barrage, but her ammo wouldn’t last forever, and when it ran out, Lysanne was its next victim.

  ‘They look too clean to be Hivers,’ said Vicksen. She shot an incoming grenade out of the air with a plasma bolt. The explosion sent the two women sprawling to the ground. ‘Must be the Spyrers Lysanne told us about.’

  ‘Then they must die,’ said Themis as she scrambled back to her feet.

  ‘Watch after Lysanne,’ cried Vicksen.

  Without Themis’s constant rain of bullets holding it off, the vampire had regained its composure. It leapt the distance to the injured Wildcat before Themis could raise her weapon to fire. The vampire grabbed Lysanne by the waist and hoisted her up in the air. Holding her like a human shield, he advanced on the last two Wildcats.

  Scabbs stayed behind the stone bench, pumping and firing the shotgun as fast as he could to provide covering fire as Kal, Yolanda, and Wotan charged into battle. Kal’s twin lasguns fired in quick succession back and forth in his hands as he raced into the fray, and Yolanda followed close behind him, using the black-mirrored surface of her re-acquired katana to ward off incoming laser blasts.

  The big brute holding the grenade launcher fired a shot toward Wotan, but the dog leapt to the side and the grenade sailed past, landing right in front of the bench. Scabbs kicked the bench over, falling backward at the same time, but the explosion still left the half-breed dazed and lacking cover.

  Valtin stepped in front of the vampire as he advanced on the Wildcat leaders. ‘Armand,’ he said. ‘It’s time to end this.’

  The muffled sound of maniacal laughing emanated from behind the mirrored helmet. ‘Look,’ said Armand. ‘It’s the nephew all grown up. How cute. Are you here to save these pitiful Hivers from the big bad vampire?’

  ‘No, I’m here to take you back,’ said Valtin, ‘dead or alive.’ He palmed a device in his pocket. It was nothing more than a little black box with a button and two antennae at the top.

  ‘Back where?’ said the muffled voice. ‘Back to the tainted world of our fathers and their fathers before them? I think not.’ He raised his armoured fist as if to strike Valtin dead on the spot.

  Valtin was faster
. He pulled the device out and pushed the button. Armand screamed and froze in place. His arm quivered as he tried to slam it down on top of Valtin’s head, but moved only an inch at a time, as if he was forcing it through molasses.

  ‘Neat device, huh?’ asked Valtin. ‘A small magnetic field drains the nearest power cell. You’re under your own power now, uncle!’ Valtin pulled out a power maul and slammed it into Armand’s shoulder, causing the screaming Helmawr to drop his Wildcat hostage. Valtin grabbed the injured girl by the forearm and thrust her toward Vicksen and Themis. ‘You three should leave,’ he said to them. ‘This is my fight now.’

  Obidiah Clein stopped at the exit from the secure room to scratch at his chin as if deep in thought over some critical matter. In truth, he was waiting for Hermod Kauderer to get a head start down the hall so he could follow him from a safe distance.

  Following a spy – am I crazy? He asked himself. But Clein knew that Kauderer and Katerin had been conspiring. Years of service in this web of intrigue had fine-tuned his ability to read people and their motives. Kauderer was a blank slate. The spy knew well how to hide his emotions and motives, but the military man was much easier to read. He’d been nervous at the meetings lately and giving Kauderer quick, sideways glances. Plus their constant bickering had all but stopped since the Armand business had begun.

  He decided he’d waited long enough and sauntered through the antechamber out into the connecting hallway. There were no windows or doors here. They were too deep inside the palace to get natural light, and this hallway only existed as access to the secure room. But Kauderer had already disappeared, somehow. Colouri, the guardian of the coffers, Chancellor of the Spire Prong, Croag, the lawyer, and even Katerin were all there, walking in a loose bunch, ahead of him, but Kauderer was nowhere to be seen.

  Clein decided to follow Katerin instead. He’d be easier to tail, and the two of them had to be meeting somewhere. Clein vowed to put someone on Kauderer, but he didn’t know who he could trust in the palace.

  As they all climbed toward their respective offices in the upper levels of the Spire, a buzzing in Clein’s ear gave him a start. The others looked at him, but he just glared back. His ear buzzed again, and Obidiah knew he had to hurry. He pushed his way through the group and then jumped two steps at a time the rest of the way up the steep staircase.

  ‘Forgot another meeting,’ he called back.

  Once safe in his office, Obidiah locked the door and sat at his desk. He touched a series of switches on his desk that erected a security screen around the office and opened a direct channel to the person who buzzed him.

  ‘What took you so long?’ asked Nemo.

  ‘Excuse me,’ said Clein into the vox. ‘We were meeting with Lord Helmawr about the Armand situation.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Nemo. ‘But if I should ever be forced to buzz three times, our relationship will be terminated.’

  Clein appreciated the significance of Nemo’s choice of words as well as his intonation. ‘Understood.’

  ‘Report.’

  ‘Kauderer and Katerin still run the palace for all intents and purposes,’ said Clein. ‘Only now, they seem to be working together.’

  ‘That is not good,’ said Nemo. ‘You must break up their alliance somehow. Together they are too powerful.’

  ‘I have tried,’ replied Clein. I know Kauderer sent the Spyrers down into the Hive against Helmawr’s orders, but I have no proof. I think I can get Katerin to crack, but I will need leverage in order to give him a final push.’

  ‘Then find proof and start pushing,’ said Nemo. ‘This is too important. Once I have the item, Lord Helmawr will no longer be an obstacle, but working together these two could find a way to keep the House from crumbling around him. They must be out of the picture before then.’

  Kal dodged under Jonas’s power sword and feinted with his sabre toward the Spyrer’s thigh. Jonas bit on the feint and Kal brought the hilt up hard on his opponent’s chin, knocking him back a step.

  ‘You can’t dodge my sword for long, Jerico,’ spat Jonas as he rubbed his sore chin.

  ‘I can the way you swing it,’ Kal replied. He had to admit that Jonas had pretty good stamina. They’d been dancing for several minutes now, and Kal had gotten in several good hits, but the Spyrer hadn’t slowed a step.

  He glanced at Yolanda, who was taking on the brute with the grenade launcher. She’d cut off the end of his weapon with her katana and the muscle-bound Spyrer had dropped it in favour of a power axe. Kal didn’t know what bothered him more: how Yolanda got her sword so sharp or where these Spyrers had gotten such good weapons.

  At least he didn’t have to worry about Wotan. Kal’s dog had his opponent, a dark-haired and dark-skinned man that Jonas had called Grell, on the ground fighting for his life. Wotan stood on Grell’s chest, trying to get his metal jaws around his fleshy neck. The Spyrer had one hand on Wotan’s upper jaw and the other on the lower jaw, but he was losing ground fast.

  Kal had lost sight of the female, but Scabbs was firing the shotgun at something, so he assumed he would at least get some warning if she came up behind him. Besides, Jerico didn’t have time to worry about anything except the power sword shimmering in Jonas’s hands. If it did connect, the family reunion would get cut short by exactly one family member.

  ‘Get Lysanne to safety,’ said Vicksen. ‘Break down the door to the Fresh Air if you have to.’ Sweat glistened on her cheeks, neck and cleavage. She swiped at the blue spiked hair, which had gone limp and kept getting in her eyes, but it just stuck to her forehead, so she gave up.

  ‘Where are you going?’ asked Themis. She cocked her heavy stubber and nestled it in the crook of one arm and then reached down and pulled Lysanne to her feet, supporting the injured Wildcat with her free arm.

  ‘I’m going to finish what we came here to do,’ growled Vicksen. ‘I’m going to kill Yolanda Catallus.’ The newcomer was keeping the vampire busy and Kal’s people were fighting the Spyrers. Now was her only chance to get to Yolanda.

  She ran across the square, scooping up her chainsword. Ahead, she saw Yolanda standing toe to toe with a huge brute of a Spyrer. He had a barrel chest and a wide, round face topped by short-cropped, brown hair. The epitome of a jar head. They were wrestling, each one holding the other’s wrist just below their respective weapons.

  The muscles in Yolanda’s arms and legs rippled as she used all her force to try to push the brute away, but Vicksen could tell that even as strong as the bounty hunter was, the brute would wear her down eventually. He simply had more mass to throw into the equation.

  They twisted and turned in their clench, bringing Yolanda around to face the oncoming Vicksen. The Wildcat leader made a snap decision and fired her plasma pistol at the brute. A ball of highly charged plasma slammed into the Spyrer’s back and exploded, sending both combatants sprawling to the ground.

  Vicksen was mildly upset that the blast hadn’t killed the Spyrer, but there would be plenty of time for that later. His armour lay in pieces and the power axe had gone flying out of his grasp. Vicksen ran up and gave him a swift kick to the head, and then turned to the prone Yolanda.

  ‘Get up,’ she yelled. ‘It’s time to finish this.’ Vicksen tossed her plasma pistol to the ground and revved up her chainsword.

  Valtin turned back to Armand, who seemed to be trying to retreat but was moving in slow motion. The younger Helmawr raised his power maul over his head and slammed it down on top of Armand’s helmet. The mirrored dome cracked slightly. He brought the maul around for another blow, but Armand was able to turn enough that the weapon just glanced off the side of his head, ripping out several of his feeding tubes.

  Armand turned his torso and swung his arms around in a slow arc. Valtin easily stepped back out of reach. Then, ducking under the massive arms of the vampire rig, he swung the maul. Blue energy swirled around the legs of the power suit as the maul struck, chipping and breaking the interlocking plates of armour. Armand’s knees buckled and he fell to
the ground.

  ‘It’s over, Uncle,’ said Valtin. He jumped on top of the fallen vampire. ‘Now I will kill you as you killed my father.’

  ‘Kill me and you’ll never find what I took from Stiv,’ Armand wheezed, his voice barely audible through the cracked helmet.

  ‘You think I care about that?’ demanded Valtin. ‘This is for my father.’ He slammed the maul down on Armand’s chest. The power coursed through the armour, cracking several more metal plates. ‘You are a blight on House Helmawr, and you must be removed before you bring down the entire House.’ Valtin could see the hole in the armour from Armand’s earlier battle in the courtyard. He aimed his next shot at that weak point.

  ‘I am but a symptom of the sickness,’ said Armand, his voice oddly calm now. ‘The whole House stinks of decay and disease. I am the fever that will root out the evil virus within and burn it with holy fire. Only then will the House be cleansed. Only then can I rest.’

  ‘Too bad you won’t live long enough to see that day come,’ Valtin replied.

  He swung the maul down toward the tiny hole in Armand’s armour, but the weapon was halted in mid-swing. Valtin looked down. Armand had grabbed hold of the shaft with one hand. The arm of his rig coursed with energy from the maul.

  ‘Wrong, nephew,’ said Armand. ‘You won’t live to see it.’ He grabbed the power cell draining device from Valtin’s other hand and threw it against the wall of the Fresh Air, and then stood, still holding onto the young Helmawr’s arm. ‘By the way, thank you for the borrowed power.’

  Kal dodged and weaved, trying to find an opening for his sabre, but Jonas had grown a little more conservative since the sock to his jaw. Kal had to admit that the Spyrer leader was well-trained. When he concentrated on defence, Jonas was nearly flawless. He was going to need more time to get the better of his well-trained opponent.