Julius spoke with pain in his voice. “I know that you risked your lives trying to rescue my son.”

Flak stood, and offered his huge hand to Julius, though his face was like something chipped from granite. “I’m just sorry we failed.” His voice was raspy and harsh.

Julius took the troll’s huge paw and shook it. “I also understand that you’ve suffered losses due to something you had no stake in. I cannot apologize enough for that, so I won’t insult you by trying. The best I can say is that none of you will ever want for anything again.” His voice cracked on the last word, and Rachel knew how he felt.

Flak shook his head. “We knew the risks when we took the job, and we’ve been paid. You owe us nothing.” Even though he sounded sincere, his voice was dead, flat.

“Yes, he does.” If Flak’s voice had sounded dead, Sinunu’s voice sounded as if all Hell’s damned were speaking in chorus. There was so much anger and pain in her voice that for a moment Rachel feared the other woman might actually attack Julius.

Julius stood tall and looked at her. “You are the one called Sinunu. Of everyone, I believe you have lost the most tonight. What could I possibly do to make that up to you?”

Sinunu stood. She was nearly as tall as Julius, though leaner. She still had dried blood on her face and neck, but it only made her look all the more deadly. “You can tell us you’re going to do something about the evil out there.”

Julius nodded. “Do you think I would dishonor the losses both you and I have suffered by sitting idle while those things still walk? But, to my mind, the first order of business is to reattempt to rescue my son.”

Sinunu smiled, and Rachel could see the gaps in her mouth where teeth were missing. “And you could say that we’re coming with you. Though you must know that it doesn’t matter what you say; we will avenge our own.”

Julius stood still for a moment, then nodded. “If what I’ve been told is even half true, then I would be honored to have you there”

Rachel said, “I’m going as well.”

Julius looked Rachel over, admiration apparent on his face, “I wouldn’t dream of trying to stop you.”

Rachel nodded.

A small smile tracked across Sinunu’s face, though Rachel noticed it didn’t touch her pink eyes. She turned to Rachel. “If the son is anything like the father,” she said. “I see why you place value in him.” Then she turned and walked back over to the wall, where she sat down heavily.

Julius said, “When we’ve had a chance to recuperate a bit, we’ll try again. Assuming they’ve thrown everything they’ve got at us, I think we learned enough tonight to break them.” He started to walk away.

Rachel stopped him with a hand on his arm. ‘There’s one more thing,” she said. “De Vries. It’s almost dawn.”

Sinunu’s voice drifted over their shoulders. “I think it would be in your best interest to stop treating de Vries like a prisoner. He’s one of the most honorable men I’ve ever met. and he tried harder than any of us to get your son back to you. Besides, if he decides to leave, I really don’t think you could stop him.”

Rachel watched Julius stiffen at Sinunu’s tone, but he simply nodded.

“Come,” Julius said. He put his arm around Rachel’s shoulders and began to walk over toward the Mobmaster, where his men were watching de Vries. “I need to talk to the vampire anyway. He might be able to shed some light on what happened tonight. Even though my experience with vampires is somewhat singular, I was surprised by what I saw.”

Rachel nodded. “I know. Not all vampires are mindless beasts that suck blood. In fact, according to Martin, the vampires we encountered at the compound were acting strange The coordinated attacks, the lack of self-preservation, it isn’t usual.”

Again Julius smiled down at her. “Well, we know some things, and hopefully, de Vries can fill in the rest. All vamp bodies we brought back with us had similar headwear. And all of them had reprogrammable psychotropic chips. They could be under the influence of the chip: some early experiments with war troops tried that with humans. And it works to great effect, but it treats the individuals like game pieces. To be used up and tossed away when they’re no longer needed.”

Rachel shuddered. It wasn’t that she felt any sympathy for those vampires, but she suddenly realized for the first time that they had once been people.

De Vries stood as they approached.

“Are you all right?” Rachel asked.

He nodded. “Yes.” Then he turned his attention to Julius. “Have you confirmed the information about your brother?”

Julius nodded gravely. “It looks like you were right. I knew Marco was a vampire, but he has been so for many years and it didn’t seem to affect his control of Fratellanza. Recently, he underwent an experimental procedure that left him crippled.” Julius grimaced. “I believe it also drove him insane.”

De Vries gave Julius a melancholy smile, “Derek was even more insane than his father. When I learned of his creation, I immediately devoted all my resources to learning the secret behind it. I am not ashamed of killing your nephew.”

Julius sighed. “I am sure you’re not,” he said. “And I know you did the right thing. Derek’s soul was dead long before you got to him. He was killed by his own father.”

“And now Marco is trying to do the same thing to Warren,” de Vries said, “and eventually will try to do the same to you.” Julius merely nodded.

“You can break the cycle,” de Vries said. “You can help me bring down the facility in Hell’s Kitchen.”

At just that moment, Rachel heard the beeping of a wrist-phone, and Biggs answered it.

Julius turned to look at the man, who had gone white. “What is it, Biggs?”

Biggs disconnected and turned to face Julius. “That was Marco,” he said. The words hung in the air, as the warehouse went silent.

“Well, man, don’t keep us in suspense. What did he have to say?”

Biggs shook his head. “You’ve been removed from the board of Fratellanza, and if I see you I’m supposed to place you under house arrest.”

Julius laughed, a low, hollow sound that rang through the warehouse.

“There’s more.”

“I thought there might be,” said Julius. “What else?”

Biggs’ face turned into a grimace. “He says he’s arranged for the release of Warren, and that as soon as your son appears, we’ll be taking orders directly from him. Warren’s in charge of the entire corporation until Marco reappears.”

“Now is the moment of truth,” de Vries said. “You have the loyalty of the troops, I have seen that. You…”

Julius interrupted. “I have already started proceedings for a hostile takeover based on the fact that Marco is no longer mentally competent. That’s in the corporate constitution. I’ve given the go-ahead to the lawyers, and by tomorrow afternoon Marco will be out of the picture, provided I haven’t underestimated him again.”

 

29

 

Some vampires revel in their role as hunters and killers. Such individuals have a strong sadistic streak and seek out unwilling victims. Initially, the vampire draws sustenance from the victims terror. Then, if the early attacks have not killed the victim, the vampire will enjoy taking the now-addicted subject’s final life essence. Such individuals may have been psychopaths before their transition to vampirism, or it may be the shock of their death and rebirth as a “hunting creature” that pushes them over the edge.

– 

from Dictionary of Parabiology, by Professor Charles Spencer, third edition, MIT amp;T Press, Cambridge, 2053

 

Julius rode next to Biggs in the back of the midnight-black stretch Toyota Elite winding up Magnolia Bluff. As they passed the first checkpoint, he could see the early morning sunlight refracting off Elliott Bay.

Julius looked at his watch, a Dulcola-Fra that accented his charcoal Armante suit. It was just short of eight in the morning, and they were making good time, despite the heavy morning traffic.

Julius glanced over at Biggs, who had also changed from battle gear into a business suit, though the double-breasted garment didn’t hang as well as the designer had intended on the big ork’s bulky frame. The deep circles under Biggs’ eyes told the tale of how exhausting the previous night had been. Neither of them had slept, going straight from battle into the planning meeting that had hatched the course of action they were about to put into play.

“You should have stayed behind with the others,” said Julius. “You need the rest.”

Biggs looked over and flashed a grin that melted the weariness from his face for a moment. “You gotta be slotting me, sir. I wouldn’t miss this little whammy for the world.”

Julius smiled. “I appreciate that, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t glad you’re here.”

Biggs said, “Besides, what kind of second would I be if I didn’t have your back when you needed it most?”

Julius nodded and gazed out the window again.

They both felt the limo slow to a crawl as it approached the mansion’s gate. Then it accelerated as the guards waved it through.

Biggs looked over at Julius and smiled again. “You ready to do this?”

Julius thought about his brother, and for just a moment, he felt a flash of shame. From a very young age all he’d ever heard was that family was everything and that to betray family was to betray oneself. Then he thought of Marco’s face last night-which felt like a million years ago-on the telecom. Trying to convince him that Warren was somewhere else.

You betrayed me and mine first, big brother. Now it’s pay-back. He nodded to Biggs. “Let’s get this over with.”

Both men got out of the limo, and without a signal, the big car pulled forward, toward the garage.

Julius looked to his left and saw Marco’s Rolls Royce standing ready.

With Biggs’ hand on his arm, just above the elbow, the two of them ascended the steps to the front door. The guards let Julius pass with a nod.

Entering the foyer, going from the brightness of day into the dimness, the two men paused.

“Good. You brought him.” Marco’s voice was a pained wheeze that made Julius flinch.

Beside him, Julius felt Biggs snap to attention. “Yes, sir.”

From the gloom at the other end of the hallway Marco’s wheelchair rolled forward, being pushed by Peter, Marco’s assistant.

Marco’s makeup was smeared with sweat, and he was hunched over, making him look like a carved demon. Julius studied his brother, but for the moment. Marco’s attention was on Biggs. “I understand how difficult it must have been For you to carry out your orders,” he said. “It’s not an easy thing to take your boss’s authority away from him. Rest easy, though. I will reward your loyalty upon my return.”

Marco’s eyes flashed to Julius.

Well, there’s life in the old boy yet, thought Julius, as his brother’s piercing gaze locked with his own. “Little brother, I apologize for the inconvenience. Unfortunately you gave me no choice. Until I can return and explain things to you fully, you’re just going to have to trust that this is for the best. You’ve jeopardized matters of which you have no comprehension, and I can’t take the time right now to show you the error of your ways.”

Julius let his head fall forward. “Actually, I do understand. I disobeyed you, thinking of nothing more than my son. I was blinded by my fear for him.”

Marco nodded his vulpine head as Julius looked up at him I. “I too understand, little brother. Still, I do have good news. I’ve discovered Warren’s whereabouts, and I’m going now to secure his release.”

This is it. thought Julius. He forced all the surprise he could his voice. “Warren? You know where he is?”

Marco nodded, and chuckled. “He is safe and well and should be returning to the fold in a few days. When he does, he will be in charge until I can return and clear things up with you. I expect you to give him the same good counsel you have given me all these years, though you will not have the same authority. He is the future of Fratellanza, Inc., little brother.”

Julius nodded. “Let me go with you. I want to see my son. I promise I wont do anything… rash.” Julius held his breath.

Marco shook his head. “If you have proven anything in the last twenty-four hours, it is that you cannot be trusted where your son is concerned. No, you will remain here for the duration.”

Julius let his head fall forward again. hiding the small smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I accept the wisdom of what you’re saying, though my heart doesn’t agree.”

“Sir,” said Peter. “We had better be going if we’re going to keep to our schedule.”

Julius felt Biggs’ hand tighten on his arm, and he looked up. Marco waved to Peter, who rolled his chair forward. As they approached, Julius asked, “While you’re away, who’s going to take care of business?”

Marco smiled, showing his black gums. “That’s the Julius I know. Don’t worry. Everything has been taken care of. All current contracts can be handled by staff. You just rest, and know that your son will be back soon.”

With that, Marco was past him.

Julius looked at Peter, young, dark-haired, and pretty in a masculine sort of way. Peter shot a glance at Julius, and that look was so full of terror that Julius felt his heart break. He knew the poor kid probably wouldn’t be alive for more than another hour, and he sensed that Peter had come to the same conclusion. Still, there was nothing he could do about it.

Then they were out the door and into the sunshine. The last sight of Peter that Julius ever got was of the young mall extending the wide black umbrella and then attaching it to the chair. The light was too strong for Marco to face directly.

Biggs closed the door behind them.

“This way,” he said, staying in character. Julius had told him that Marco’s senses were heightened beyond belief, so they had agreed to continue until ten minutes after Marco’s car had left the drive.

Biggs guided Julius to his room on the second floor, then stood by the door as Julius went to check the window. Julius watched as the modified Rolls Royce pulled down the drive and out the gate.

A wave of bone-heavy anger stormed through Julius as he stepped over to the bed and sat down on it.

Biggs looked at his wrist chronometer, then pulled a small black box from his suit pocket. The box was twenty centimeters square and it had a simple switch on the top, just to the side of a small red light.

Biggs set the box on the small, intricately carved table and flipped the switch. For a moment, nothing happened, and then the red light blinked twice. Julius looked up as Riggs said softly, “Room’s clear.”

Julius nodded, and went back to waiting. At exactly ten minutes, Biggs looked over at him and smiled. “Time.”

Julius pulled a small portacom from his pocket and tapped in a series of numbers he’d been given by the decker-boy the shadowrunners called Sandman.

There were two clicks as the signal was bounced from host host, then the call connected.

Killian’s voice came through strong and without delay. “Yes?”

Julius smiled. “Elvis has left the building. Begin Operation Dracula.”

With those words, Julius was setting two events in motion. One was the legal proceeding that would finally give him sole control of Fratellanza, Inc. The other was the assault that would be his last chance to get Warren back before his son was changed into a vampire.

 

30

 

A vampire that can move at will in sunlight is a fiend with power beyond measure. It can travel wherever it wants to, whenever it wants to; it can hunt at any hour of the day; and it cannot be easily distinguished from a normal metahuman because it lacks the very weakness that once defined it. If the Ordo’s plan succeeds, they will gain total control over all of our lives in the blink of an eye, and we will be unable to lift a finger to stop them.

– 

Martin de Vries, Shadows at Noon, posted to Shadowland BBS. 24 May 2057

 

The assistant, the one called Pakow, watched emotionlessly as Marco drained the last of the blood from Peter’s body, letting the limp thing, which only moments before had been so full of life, fall to the floor of the loading dock.

His hunger sated, Marco straightened painfully and looked at the small man and grinned. “I’m ready, now. So if you’ll be so good as to have this mess cleaned up, we can go.”

The man called Pakow nodded curtly. “If you’ll just follow me, your room is prepared.” He gestured vaguely at the mess “I’ll have this taken care of.”

Sitting back down in his wheelchair, Marco nodded, then waited until the man took the hint. Coming up behind Marco Pakow pushed his chair into the building.

“Where is Doctor Wake?” Marco demanded. “I had expected him to meet me when I arrived.”

“He’s resting.” Pakow said. “He needs to gather his strength for the last part of the procedure on your nephew. It takes quite a bit out of him. Though I’m not totally versed in these matters, I understand that the magical aspects of the procedure are some of the most extreme to be found in the field of the arcane.”

Marco grunted his understanding. “How is it going? Have there been any complications?”

There was a short pause, then Pakow said. “As far as I know, everything is progressing beyond Doctor Wakes expectations. We’re using the latest strain of the virus on your nephew, and initial testing shows an unprecedented breakthrough.”

Marco twisted slowly in his chair, feeling his spine crackle with the effort. “How so? I thought that with Derek we had reached a pinnacle of sorts.”

Pakow’s face broke into a tight smile. “Hardly. After all, your son suffered many of the same unpredictable reactions as you have from the procedure. Your nephew has benefited from being the recipient of a strain that should leave his melatonin levels intact.”

For just a moment, Marco couldn’t believe his ears. “You mean that…”

Pakow nodded, and turned the corner of the hall, passing a work station on the left. “Yes. If all continues according to plan, your nephew will never have to worry about applying make-up. He will look normal in all aspects. Well, skin-related aspects, at least. He will still have to wear contacts to provide any sort of eye pigmentation, but I think that is a small price to pay, considering.”

Marco couldn’t help the huge grin spreading over his face.

“That is far beyond what I had hoped for. Your Doctor Wake is a miracle worker.”

Pakow didn’t answer, but Marco hardly noticed. He was dazzled by the possibilities this news offered.

They arrived at an open doorway near the end of the hall.

“This will be your room” Pakow told him.

Marco looked around as Pakow wheeled him inside. The room was huge, nearly twenty meters square. The walls were covered with small white tiles that glittered softly in the indirect light.

In the center of the room stood a bed, with what looked like an oxygen tent over one end. There were straps on all sides, though they’d been pulled back and tied down to the thick metal legs that supported the large expanse of sleep area.

A bank of monitors rested just to the side of the bed, and Marco could see robotic auto-injectors on the other side.

“Where’s my telecom?” he said.

The question obviously took Pakow by surprise, because the confusion on his face was genuine.

“My damn telecom. One of the reasons I agreed to come in was that Wake promised me I could communicate with my nephew when he returned to the outside world.”

The baffled expression on Pakow’s face made Marco want to rip the flesh from his skull, but he refrained.

“I apologize, Mister D’imato. I can only assume that Doctor Wake might have thought you would be bringing your own compact unit along. Still, I don’t see that it will be a problem. I’ll see to it personally.” The man paused, looking a bit apprehensive. If you’ll forgive me for saying so, I’m not sure you fully understand the nature of this procedure.”

Marco felt the hackles rise on the back of his neck. “What do you mean?” His voice was low and dangerous.

Pakow shook his head. “It’s just that this is no ordinary procedure. This is something we have never done before. I’m sorry to say that it won’t be pleasant, especially in the first stages. I think that was why Doctor Wake wanted to get you in as soon as possible.”

Marco frowned. “I’m not sure I understand.”

Pakow shrugged. “Your condition is not good. We may have to resort to extreme measures to bring it back under control, before we can even begin to attempt any reversal. Those extreme measures will very likely be painful, requiring a well, staggering amount of sedation.”

Marco chewed on his lip. “So what you’re saying is that I’ll be out of it for a few days.”

Pakow nodded, and resumed pushing Marco’s chair. “If things progress well, you should be past the worst by the time your nephew is ready to be released.”

Marco shook his head. “I don’t care. I want the telecom, and I want it today. With a secure outside line.”

They had reached the bed, and Pakow let the wheelchair roll to a stop. “Of course. As said, I’ll see to it personally.”

Marco looked at the bed, then up at Pakow, who was once again expressionless.

“I won’t presume to insult you by offering to help, Mister D’imato, If you would kindly getup onto the bed, I’ll get you a dressing gown, and we can get the procedure underway.”

Marco smiled, and for the first time since the man had defied him when he’d delivered Warren to the loading dock, he thought he might just spare him after all.

Willing his body to break down, he let his form shift, and turn. Not quite mist, he settled lightly onto the bed, then solidified. He stripped out of his suit jacket and shirt, the sable skin of his chest and belly eating the light.

Pakow turned away as Marco finished stripping and walked toward one wall near the row of monitors, He pressed an off-colored tile, and a small closet opened. Marco watched as the man drew a dressing gown from the rack and brought it over to him.

By then Marco was completely naked. Pakow set the gown next to him, and then returned to the closet. He closed it with a gentle push, then moved down about two meters to another discolored tile. Marco made sure to memorize where each odd-colored tile was located.

When Pakow pushed on the tile, a waist-high section of the wall moved out, and Pakow pulled it clear, leaving a small cubbyhole. In it was a portable sink, complete with integral hot and cold. Two smaller nozzles at the sides were labeled betadine disinfection soap and hand lotion.

Pakow rolled the cart to Marco. who took the opportunity to rid himself of the irritating makeup on his hands and face.

As he was washing, Pakow said, “Just below the hot water faucet, you’ll find a small green button. It opens a tray on the side where you’ll find towels to dry off.”

With that, Pakow turned to the bank of monitors and began powering up the system.

Marco finished rubbing lotion onto his skin, which still burned slightly from the alcohol. He looked over at Pakow, who was just finishing up. After returning the cart to its proper place in the wall, Pakow said, Are you ready to begin?”

Marco grunted. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Then if you’ll just lie back, I’ll start the first of the painkillers.”

Marco raised a hand, but before he could speak, Pakow nodded. “Don’t worry, Mister D’imato. As soon as the process is underway, I’ll get you your telecom.”

Marco smiled, and used his hands to swing his legs up onto the bed. He lay back, looking up into the clear plastic tent that Pakow held over him.

Pakow let it down gently, then returned to the monitors. Within seconds. Marco could detect a gentle hissing sound.

For just a moment, he almost ripped the tent oft his face. Something felt wrong. This whole thing had suddenly begun to take on the proportions of a nightmare.

The moment passed just as quickly as it had come, and Marco felt the pain in his spine ease. He began to drift, the world growing fuzzy and comfortable around him.

Thirty minutes later, Pakow left the room and locked the door behind him. He turned to the small panel next to the door

and pulled it open. Flipping switches in sequence, he started the room’s air evacuation.

As soon as all the lights had turned red, Pakow took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The shakes hit his knees first, and be thought they might buckle under him.

The monster was safely out of the way. Without any air in the room, the vampire would go into stasis. Considering that he’d fed just before going in, Pakow calculated that D’imato would finally expire in a little over a month, unless Doctor Wake found a reason to revive him.

Wiping at the sweat on his forehead, which mercifully hadn’t appeared while he was with D’imato, Pakow walked quickly on his still shaking legs back to the monitoring station down the hall. He half expected the display to show the room empty, but when he touched the screen, he was relieved to see the motionless form of Marco D’imato still lying on the bed.

He reached over and opened the line to Doctor Wake.

“Wake here,” came the immediate response. “I trust everything went according to plan?”

Pakow laughed, a wry, almost angry sound. “Yes, but you night have told me he wanted a telecom in the room. I thought he was going to renege on the whole deal.”

The sound of a drawn-out sigh filled the hallway, and when Wake answered, Pakow could hear the exhaustion in his voice. “I apologize, Doctor Pakow. It slipped my mind. What happened?”

Pakow shook his head, though part of him realized that Wake couldn’t see him do it. “Nothing. I managed to convince him that it was an oversight, and that as soon as the procedure was started, I would make sure he got what he wanted.”

“Excellent. You are to be commended for quick thinking, though I have always known you had a devious streak.”

Something in Wake’s tone bothered Pakow. The man surely suspected what Pakow had been doing, that he’d been the one who had contacted de Vries. Or did he?

Pakow sighed heavily. One thing was certain; he wasn’t going to risk crossing Wake again. I’m sorry. de Vries. From here on. you’re on your own.

 

31

 

Voice 1: There are vampires in Ordo Maximus, and I think they have access to some magical rituals that let them use the essence drain from victims to offset the drain of cyhermantic magic. Needless to say, I haven’t gotten far trying to find out much more. Its not something I’d want to risk, frankly.

Voice 2: You think that geek de Vries was right, then?

Voice 1: He got initiated into the middling grades. I think he knew. He may even have met one or two of them. There are a hundred and one tales about how he got infected.

– 

From encrypted telecom transcripts posted to Shadowland BBS by Captain Chaos, 11 December 2056. Identity of speakers not definitively verified.

 

In his study. Wake leaned forward and put his head in his hands. He tried to roll his shoulders to alleviate some of the tension that had built up in his muscles, but it was no use.

Things are getting too complicated here, and the work is suffering for it. That can’t be allowed.

He straightened and turned to the telecom on his desk. Tapping in a sixteen-digit code he hadn’t used in over two years, he waited patiently for the connection. As he did, he calculated what time it would be in London. Just a bit after four in the afternoon.

The man who came on line was balding and pale, with a huge mole on his forehead. Wake reflected for a moment that he didn’t even know the man’s name. When they’d first met, names were a dangerous thing. Later, they seemed unimportant.

“Ah, it’s you,” the man said, showing discolored teeth. “It’s been a while.”

Wake hadn’t called to engage in idle chitchat. “I need to talk.”

The man nodded, staring back from the telecom display. He had a look of shock on his face that he tried to hide, but not before Wake saw it.

“Good god, man, you look like bloody hell.” The clipped British accent turned dry and disinterested, so Wake assumed there were others present.

“Is it safe to talk?”

The man nodded. “Of course. If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t have gotten through. What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve finally taken care of D’imato, but now I’ve got other problems and they’re interfering with my work.”

The man’s expression turned thoughtful. “Of course, we can’t have that. What’s the problem, and what is it you need?”

Wake smiled wearily. “Things are getting… warm here. An old friend of yours has come to call-Martin de Vries. We’ve already had one attack on the compound due to your man D’imato’s incompetence and thick-headedness. From what I know of the people who hit us, I’m sure they’ll be back again to finish the job. They’ve got access to plenty of firepower, and next time they’ll come with enough to level this whole place and destroy all of my work.”

The look of distaste on the man’s face was evident. “De Vries? By the gods, when will that fool learn to leave well enough alone? Still, when you say you’ve taken care of my man”-the distaste turned to disgust-“I assume you mean that it became necessary to make your solution pemianent?”

Wake shook his head. “I wanted to consult with you first, but he has been gently removed from his position, and no one will really notice the change for another month or so.”

The man smiled. “Excellent. That will give us time to plan for his replacement. So what is it that we can do for you?”

“This locale has become difficult. I need immediate relocation. Code Azure.”

The man turned away from the telecom, and seemed to be conferring with others who Wake couldn’t see. When he turned back, he had a satisfied look on his face. “I don’t think that will be a problem. It might cost a bit, but we all agree that the expenditure is worth the service you’re providing. Besides, it wouldn’t do for de Vries to get his hands on your current research data. We’ve put too much effort into making him look as crazy as he is. This would be a bad time for him to actually acquire proof of his accusations.”

Wake nodded. He’d had no doubt that the men of Ordo Maximus would see it that way. After all, they’d already invested too much nuyen to back out now, especially when they believed they were so close.

He kept the smile from his face as he imagined those British fops, with their ridiculous vampire cabal, sitting in their posh offices looking at each other with gaping mouths once they learned that they’d funded the one thing that could make their plan obsolete.

The man continued. “I’ll make all the arrangements from this end, and we’ll have a new lab set up for you through your Zulu BioGen front.”

Wake smiled. “Thank you. I’m sorry things haven’t gone more smoothly here, but hopefully there won’t he any more little complications to detract from the work.”

The man shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. I apologize to you for saddling you with D’imato. He should have been the perfect subject, but apparently he is too unpredictable to be of any use. If you’ve found a way to remove him from the picture, we are doubly in your debt.”

Wake nodded, and hit the Disconnect without further chatter.

He sat back, grateful to realize that some of the tension in his shoulders had eased. That was the right decision, he thought. I probably should have done this a couple of months ago, but this location seemed ideal. He selected another icon from the display and touched it.

“Attention, initiate Code Azure. This is not a drill. I want all equipment not in use at this time marked red, then disconnected and moved to the loading docks for transport to the helipad. All equipment marked yellow is to be packed securely and prepared for transport on the trucks. All green equipment is to be taken to disposal. I repeat, initiate Code Azure.”

 

32

 

The only good vampire is a dead one-and I should know I’ve killed eight of them, including two nosferatu. It was no simple task, primarily because the majority of these monsters are magically active. Their ‘natural’ powers give them a huge advantage over even the best equipped, most magical powerfully (meta)humans, and their regenerative powers make it extremely difficult to inflict them with permanent, deadly damage.

– 

Posted to Shadowland BBS by “Deathblow,” vampire hunter, 14 January 2057

 

Sweat dripped off Rachel’s forehead as she spun to block one of Sinuou’s kicks. It had been two days since the run on the compound. and she’d healed up fast enough that she was back to training again. The salty liquid drenched her shoulders, forming a vee-shaped stain on her exercise bra and the elastic band of her shorts.

She brought her arm down a second too late, and Sinunu’s kick landed hard against Rachel’s hip.

Rachel bit back against the pain that flared. “Sorry, Rach,” Sinunu said.

Rachel clenched her teeth. She felt more anger than pain. “I’m too slow.”

Sinunu smiled. “Let’s call it a day,” she said. “You’re beating yourself up more than I ever could. And it’s because you’re tired, girl. You’ve improved more in two days than runners who’ve trolled the shadows for six or eight months. I’m impressed.”

Rachel picked up a towel from the floor of the workout room. Fratellanza, Inc. had several of them in this facility in the Renton District.

“Anyone hungry?”

Rachel looked up to see Julius enter the room, followed by several soldiers carrying trays of hot food.

“Starved,” Sinunu said. “Rachel?”

“Yeah, me too.”

Julius had his men set up the food in the corner, then he brought a plate over to Rachel, who was sitting on the floor while she stretched.

“I thought you could use something. It’s sundown and you’ve barely eaten since this morning.” Julius set down the steaming tray of meat, hot rolls, and real coffee.

“You keeping track of my diet?”

Julius just smiled.

The smell of the hot food suddenly hit Rachel’s nose, and her stomach grumbled. “If the sun is down, Martin should be back,” she said. Then she picked up a hot roll and a sausage link and wolfed them down.

Rachel realized that her mindset had shifted. The change in her was so dramatic that sometimes she didn’t even recognize herself. She’d been hard before, streetwise and scared in her spike heels and see-through skirts. Now, dressed in exercise cottons, her long hair freshly shorn close to her skull to better accommodate the corn gear, her hardness had changed. In the last few days, she’d transformed from being a mans plaything into a warrior. She liked the change, but it scared her as well.

Now, she felt an inner confidence that seemed to chase away that streetwise fear lurking under her brash exterior.

Julius was studying her face, scrutinizing the fresh bruises under her right cheek. “I see Sin is still getting the best of you.” He glanced over at Sinunu. sitting by herself and shoveling food into her mouth. “How’s she holding up?”

Rachel felt a wave of pity swelling inside. “I’m not sure. When we’re working, she seems okay, but I think part of her has gone dead.”

Julius continued to stare at the albino woman. “Truxa.”

Rachel nodded. “Of course.”

Julius turned his gaze back to Rachel. “And somehow you still feel responsible?”

Rachel nodded, without saying anything.

Julius was silent. Then, as if to change the subject, he said, “I’ve been working with Short Eyes on a project.”

“Short Eyes has conveyed her appreciation of your cunning, Mister D’imato.” The voice Came from the doorway.

Rachel turned to see de Vries standing there in his dark duster, a small smile on his thin blue lips. “Martin,” she said, and she knew that she’d let too much emotion into her voice. But she was very happy to see him.

“Hello, Rachel. What have you done to your hair?” He smiled and she grinned back.

“Sin got a little overzealous with the shears.”

De Vries looked over at Julius. “We need to talk.”

“Go ahead,” Julius said, leaning forward.

De Vries stepped up close, and though Rachel knew it was only her imagination, it seemed as if the temperature suddenly dropped a few degrees. “They’re on the move. I took a quick detour on my way over here, and they are definitely vacating. At the rate they’re going, the place will be empty by tomorrow night.”

Julius nodded. “That matches the Intel my decker and Sandman have come up with. The compound is being systematically shut down.” He sighed. “I’d have liked another week to finish preparations, but I guess it’s now or never.”

De Vries locked eyes with Julius. “You know that there’s only a slim possibility that Warren is still human?”

Julius nodded slowly. “I’m still hanging on to the hope that, with everything going on there, they might have shut down on all major procedures. But, yes, I do understand that every moment we’re still here is another moment for Warren to be lost.”

De Vries frowned. “And if things don’t turn out as you hope?”

Rachel watched as Julius’ jaw muscles tightened. She’d seen the same look on Warren’s face when someone pushed him too hard. “I know what I have to do, vampire, and I won’t hesitate. For now, we’re wasting precious time. Let’s get back to business.”

De Vries smiled, cold and hard. “Fine. And here’s some business we’d better keep solidly in our minds. When we take the compound, every infected creature has to be destroyed. Every single one. Otherwise, we could see a plague of HMHVV on the scale of the first VITAS epidemic.”

Julius nodded. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Rachel shuddered. Her parents had both died from VITAS, or at least that’s what she’d been told by the people at the orphanage. VITAS killed slowly and painfully, but it didn’t turn people into monsters.

She turned and left Julius and de Vries to hash over the assault, and headed for the showers. As she cleaned up, she thought about what she was going to do tonight, and why. She imagined all of her fear being washed away by the water and slipping down the drain. As she stepped from the shower, she thought about all the people who had been hurt, and how she wanted to set that to rights. She changed into loose camouflage fatigues, and by the time Julius had prepped the troops, Rachel’s heart was as cold and hard as dry ice.

She knew this was about more than getting Warren back now. What she did tonight could affect people halfway around the world. She wasn’t going to fail.

 

33

 

The Ordo is concerned about using the Zulu BioGen front. If things do not go exactly as planned, you could easily be compromised by the paper trail. Be warned. If that happens, we will cut you off and deny any knowledge of you or your aclivities.

– 

Matrix transmission from London, England to LTG # NA-UCAS-SEA-4897, 09 August 2060

 

Two hours before dawn, the convoy rolled through Hell’s Kitchen. The residents who were awake at that hour and saw the line of truck after truck rumble down the streets immediately bolted for whatever safe place they could find. It only took an hour for the rumor to spread. The UCAS army was invading Hell’s Kitchen, and they were packing armor and weapons like nothing any of the folks there had ever seen before.

All the trucks bristled with wooden stakes, from every angle, like huge, monstrous porcupines.

Within the hour, every street in Hell’s Kitchen was deserted. Even the go-gangers had gone off to hide. No matter how tough they were, they were no match for the army, who packed milspec caliber weapons.

In the newly revamped Mobmaster, Julius rubbed his eyes. The smell of sweat in the vehicle was nearly overpowering as the men surrounding him finished the last check of their weapons.

Julius looked around one last time, and tried not to think of how he might have better prepared the men for what was to come. Sandman, de Vries, and Killian had given him every bit of information they had, but Julius had been the one to make all the final decisions.

Of the sixty men he’d called in for the assault, only a few of them carried standard projectile weaponry. They had learned, mostly from de Vries, what worked and what didn’t.

Most of the men carried flamethrowers or lasers. The flame-throwers were the most effective, but tended to be fickle. That was why they’d divided each squad into groups of eight, with three men armed with flame throwers, three armed with lasers, and two walking flank with automatic weapons. The men toting lasers were responsible for keeping the vampires from reaching the men with the flame throwers, and the men with projectile weapons were to keep any goblins from wading in and killing the men with lasers.

The plan he, Flak, de Vries, and Biggs had come up with called for a three-pronged attack. The frontal attack would act as a diversion to give the rear attack time to get into position. Truck five would carry Flak’s team, backed by some of the best reserve men Fratellanza had to offer. They were the third prong. If everything went according to plan, while the Fratellanza forces were crushing the vampires between them, the runners would be doing a covert snatch on Warren, provided they could find him.

There were four advance teams, and three long-range teams. The long-range teams were armed with high-explosive and white phosphorous rocket launchers. Their job was to pound the enemy’s rear from a safe distance, while the advance teams cut down the front flank.

Julius sighed as he pulled his helmet down over his face and strapped it in place. When he activated the thermal display, the truck’s interior turned a bloody red, highlighted in yellows where each man sat.

Julius knew that thermal vision would be useless once battle was joined, because the flamethrowers would create blinding tracers on the helmet’s viewer. That, in turn, would limit the men’s vision during the fighting, but it was a risk they had to take. Considering the advantages even the weakest vampire had over humans, there was no way Julius was going to send his men in there with nothing more than a wooden stake and a prayer.

He grinned as he thought of the one exception to this rule. Short Eyes would carry the weapon he’d helped her construct. She had declined anything else. It was a crossbow, but it was fashioned into the shape of a real cross, and there was no crank. Instead, each of the wooden bolts was powered by a jet of CO2. allowing her to belt-feed the crossbow from a pack slung over her shoulder.

Surprisingly accurate, Short Eyes could fire wooden bolts as fast as she could pull the trigger.

Over his headset came the voice of Biggs, who was once again standing up front by the rigger. “Three minutes to show time.”

Julius spoke into the integrated tacticom mic in his helmet. “Trucks five through eight, make the split at the next turn. Good hunting.”

The runners, having successfully navigated the rear entrance once before, were to lead the Fratellanza troops in. The corp soldiers would hit the building itself, which would force the enemy to split its forces and to fight on two flanks. It was a good plan. Julius hoped it would work.

“This is it, everybody,” he said into his mic. “Let’s get in there and clean this fragging place up.”

There was a huge concussion as the Mobmaster hit the first of the mines the enemy had placed across the roadway.

 

34

 

One cannot consider a discussion on vampires complete without mentioning their counterparts, namely wendigos, banshees, goblins, and the rest of their kind. While each have distinct needs and feeding habits, it should be mentioned that only the banshee have no actual need for blood. They, instead, take nourishment from the emotion of fear their victims feel just before death. That is not to say that all banshee do not drink blood; some do. However, it would seem that rather than needing it, they simply enjoy she taste.

– 

Martin de Vries, Shadows at Noon, posted to Shadowland BBS, 24 May 2057

 

While the other teams stormed the compound from the front and rear, exploding land mines as they went, the Citymaster carrying Sinunu and the others plowed toward the loading dock at the rear of the compound. Explosions filled the air as the Citymaster came within view of the dock.

Sinunu leaped from the truck, crossbow in hand. For just a moment, there was dead silence in the no man’s land surrounding the compound. She stared across the ten meters to the nearest vampire, a short, stubby man whose pale skin was covered in swastika tattoos. Even on his bare scalp.

A second before, there had been nothing but empty air where the vampires now stood. Too late, she realized the vampires must have someone with magical talents working with them.

The tableau held for just a second, then was shattered by a tremendous roaring cry from Sinunu’s left.

“Truxa!” screamed Flak like a battle cry, and let loose with his Vindicator.

The tattooed man jumped forward, covering most of the ten meters separating him from Sinunu with one bound. His movements were fast and jerky, and Sinunu didn’t have much time to wonder how a move-by-wire reflex system might frag with a vampire.

He was on her like a flood, hands grabbing, broken teeth gnashing for her throat.

Pivoting on her left foot, she puled a small wooden stake from the arsenal at her waist, and kicked upward with her right heel.

The vampire, despite his jacked reflexes, moved much too slowly, and Sinunu felt her heavy boot smash through his windpipe. As he teetered backward, she continued her turning movement, which brought her face to face with the vampire to her left.

This one was a tall woman, probably a former street Sam, considering all the flashy mods, but she seemed to have difficulty focusing on her movements.

Stabbing upward with the stake, Sinunu drove it into the woman’s throat and up into whatever she had for a brain.

The female vampire fell, the stake still imbedded in her throat, jerking violently as all her cyber kicked in and then shut off.

“You want to try it again?”

The voice was from behind Sinunu, and she instinctively knew it belonged to the tattooed man.

She turned and smiled. “You think you get another chance?”

With that she pulled her MP-5, and fired three shots quickly, aiming for the base of the vampire’s neck.

Before he could even blink, the rounds had torn through his move-by-wire rig, and he too fell.

“Truxa!” It was Flak again, tearing through vampires like they weren’t even there.

Sinunu looked over, and realized that Flak had somehow lost his Vindicator, but it didn’t seem to be slowing him down. He was tearing the heads off vampires with his bare hands, still wading forward, still screaming Truxa’s name like a war cry. Sinunu was also aware of the distant sounds of fighting from the front of the compound, and every few seconds, the ground would shake with the concussion of a rocket. The explosions lit up the night sky as the mortar rounds did their work.

Sinunu watched Flak for a moment, and could tell that there were too many for him to handle, that he’d gotten too far out in front. She glanced around desperately for someone close enough to help, then saw Rachel’s laser fire cut down the first of the vampires closing in on Flak. Sinunu knew Rachel couldn’t hit the main group surrounding Flak for fear of killing him as well.

“Truxa!” screamed Flak.

He was on his own for a moment.

Sinunu started running, jumping over the still struggling bodies of vampires that had been cut down and some of the Fratellanza dead.

The corp soldiers were doing their best, but despite the preparation they’d received, most were folding under the raw, maniacal might of nearly thirty vampires coming at them.

Sinunu risked a glance backward, and Rachel was there, exactly matching Sinunu’s movement and providing cover with her bulky laser.

To their left and right vampires died by flame and by the stake, but Sinunu was beyond caring about that. A howl rose from the direction of Flak-a blood-curdling moan.

A chill shook Sinunu and she froze in place for a split second, her entire body rigid with terror.

She saw that Flak, too, had faltered, his rage stutter-stepped for a moment, and that was all the time it took for the huge troll to go down.

Then the fear passed and Sinunu battled forward.

Suddenly, it was as if everything on the battlefield had stopped. There were still isolated pockets of fighting, but they were behind her.

As one, the crowd of vampires around the troll’s prone body parted silently, creating a corridor to the big man. Only one creature remained, and suddenly Sinunu understood what had made the scream and why Flak had faltered. Her stomach lurched, and her knees threatened to betray her.

“He kept calling for me, Sin. I just had to come.”

Truxa stood over Flak’s body like a ghost of her former self, the troll’s blood on her mouth. Sinunu knew what she was looking at. De Vries had told her, had warned her that Truxa might still be out there somewhere, had described in detail what Truxa might have become. He’d called her a banshee. Still, he hadn’t prepared her for what she was seeing now.

“Truxa?” To Sinunu, her own voice came out like that of a lost child, and her despair was punctuated by the detonation of a rocket exploding on the far side of the compound.

The banshee nodded and Sinunu blinked quickly, as if her vision had become blurred. It was Truxa, and yet it wasn’t. There was something missing, and Sinunu had seen enough corpses to know what that something was. Without life, without, the spirit that makes a person human, these creatures are nothing more than a collection of matter. That’s what I’m looking at now, a lifeless corpse.

“Come to me, Sin. I know what this looks like, but you don’t understand. You’re running around destroying the most wondrous creations ever made, without the slightest understanding of what you’re doing.”

Sinunu felt strength come back to her, and she found herself laughing a low deadly thing among all the death around her. “Shut up.”

Suddenly, the grin faded from Truxa’s face, and for just a moment, weakness swept through Sinunu. “Sin,” pleaded Truxa, “you’ve got to understand, it’s me. It really is. And what’s more, you and I can be together again. Forever. Isn’t that what we always promised each other? That nothing would separate us? Not even death?”

Sinunu stopped, her heart tearing itself to pieces in her chest. She looked at the mass of vampires to her left and right. She’d never thought of them as individuals before, had killed them without ever distinguishing one from the next. They had all been the same to her, but now she made out differences, These had once been normal men and women, and looking at their solemn faces, she could see old scars, different nationalities, different ages.

“I can give you the gift, Sin.”

Sinunu turned back to Truxa and realized that she could have been wrong. Wrong about everything. After all, Truxa had never lied to her before, had always seemed incapable of lying.

Sinunu felt a smile cross her lips and watched its mirror on Truxa’s lips, still covered with Flak’s blood, and yet so beautiful, She was about to step forward, her arms coming up to embrace her love forever, when she felt the light touch of a hand on her shoulder.

“I know it hurts,” whispered Rachel, who must have come closer during the fighting, “but that’s not Truxa, Not anymore.”

Rachel. there for her, again. As if coming awake from a dream, Sinunu looked at Truxa once more, and the thing in front of her was no longer beautiful. Instead, all Sinunu could focus on was the blood smeared on Truxa’s lips.

Incapable of lying? Sinunu thought. Truxa would never have been able to kill Flak before, either. Who knows what new tricks she s learned?

Sinunu squeezed Rachel’s hand, and looked Truxa in the eye.

“So that’s how it is?” asked Truxa. “Was I that easy to replace?” The look of scorn on her face fueled Sinunu’s anger.

Sinunu strode forward. “The Truxa I knew and loved can never be replaced, but you’re not her.”

Then, the air behind Truxa seemed to condense, conforming to a shape. With blinding ease, Martin de Vries shook off the magical shadows that had hidden his approach and took hold of Truxa, immobilizing her. He bent to say something, and Sinunu could barely make out the words.

“I know what you’re about to try, little girl, but trust me, you can’t. I know tricks you haven’t even thought of; and don’t presume to pit your puny magic against mine. I know the real Truxa is in there somewhere, buried under the abomination of the virus. I also know that woman is screaming right now. Screaming for release. Let us help you.”

Like a ground swell, a hiss arose from the assembled vampires, but for some reason none of them moved. All eyes were fixed on de Vries, who looked up and smiled sadly at Sinunu.

In Sinunu’s chest, her heart had become a stone. She strode forward, bloody stake in her hands, with Rachel at her shoulder.

As she came close, Sinunu watched Truxa go limp in de Vries’ arms. The only thing hinting that her body was still animated was the wavering track of the elf’s eyes as she watched death approach. Sinunu pulled a fresh stake from her belt.

“I love you.” Truxa’s voice was soft and quiet, just barely loud enough to make its way over the distant sounds of battle.

Once again, Sinunu’s resolve faltered. She looked up at de Vries, who held her gaze with a steady look. “And I love you,” she said.

Truxa smiled then, and despite the blood, it was Truxa again. “Then give me peace.”

Standing over the dead body of her best friend. Sinunu rammed the stake through the heart of the only person she had ever loved.

 

35

 

In summary, we believe the evidence shows beyond any doubt that Marco D’imato has violated the bylaws of the corporation, Fratelanza, Incorporated, of which he is responsible as Chief Executive Officer: He has diverted corporate assets for his own private schemes, then knowingly concealed these activities from the corporations management and those parties who share in its ownership. He has shown a pattern of behavior that is at once unstable, deviant, and gravely harmful to the functioning and best interests of the corporation. Had it not been for the intervention of Julius D’imato, the corporation’s Chief Operating Officer; the fraudulent and erratic actions of Marco D’imato might have resulted in the failure and dissolution of Fratellanza, Incorporated.

– 

from D’imato vs D’imato, brief presented by Fillips, Bonavear, and Justran, Attorneys at Law, Magnolia District Court, Judge B. L. Clausen, presiding, 07 August 2060

 

Raul Pakow crouched behind a table in the operating theater as the concussion brought down more of the ceiling. A large chunk of concrete hit his head, sending bright bits of light spinning in front of his eyes. Pakow reached up, touching blood, and carefully pushed the flap of skin, which lay curled against his scalp, back into place.

Wiping blood from his eyes, he peeled off his shirt and used it to slow the flow of blood. He keyed the portable telecom again. “I don’t fragging think so. This whore damn place is coming down around my ears.”

Wake’s voice was distressingly calm. You can and you will. I need that chip. Just download the access codes so I can get to the data from the Matrix. That shouldn’t take more than a few minutes. Then get out of there through the tunnel. When you reach the main exit, simply hit the red button, and it will set up the timers for the explosives. I’ll be waiting at the heli pad. Bring me the chip and we’ll lift out of here forever, and get you back to your family.

It was the thought of Shiva that did it. Just the hope of seeing her again, of holding her, of saying he was sorry, that was enough to get him moving.

Standing upright, he keyed for the download. Seconds took hours, as the wealth of information transferred to the chip. This was the key to everything. All the most up-to-date information on the Delta strain, which they’d been compiling for the last two weeks.

Wake had been personally overseeing the extraction of some of the more sensitive equipment when the new attack had begun, and he needed to get out now if he was ever going to get out. Pakow knew that Wake needed this data even more. Without the data to show his masters at Ordo Maximus, Wake might not be able to count on their continued patronage.

As the last of the information finished transferring, Pakow ripped the chip from the slot and ran for the stairs.

He knew Wake was lying about getting him home, but that didn’t matter to him now.

If I play this right, maybe I can force him to give me my freedom.

Pakow took a left at the head of the stairs as another explosion rocked the compound.

Ducking falling debris, he thought about Wake’s command concerning the red button. He knew that Wake had mined the compound a year before with just such an emergency as this in mind. Explosives? Why bother? These people are serious about pulling this place down, and I think they’re well on their way.

He reached the tunnel entrance, a door on the sixth level marked “Janitorial,” and pressed his palm to the lock. A sharp prick and a few seconds for the computer to analyze his genetic code, then the door swung inward, showing a dimly lit tunnel carved out of bedrock.

“There!”

The voice came from down the hall behind him, and even as Pakow started forward, he heard the rattle of automatic gunfire.

Pain erupted in his neck and back, twisting him into the tunnel. He rolled onto his back, then used his left foot to push the door shut just as two men in battle armor reached it.

He was safe, at least for the moment. There was no way they could breach that door without major explosives, and it would only respond to his and Wake’s gene codes.

The pain in his neck caused his head to spin, but a quick self-examination let him know it was nothing compared to the wound in his back.

He flexed his knees, and his legs responded, though movement was excruciating. Pakow lay there for a second, letting the stone floor cool his suddenly hot face.

After a moment, the pain seemed to ease somewhat, and he realized he wasn’t going to die, at least not yet.

With a titanic effort, he pulled himself uptight, using the rough wall for support.

The tunnel was nearly four hundred meters in length, stretching out of sight in front of him. With labored steps, he began to move forward, concentrating on Shiva’s face to give him the strength to do anything more than lay down and go to sleep.

 

 

Marco’s eyes suddenly popped open. He was awake, and his head ached with the hunger for blood. That was the first thing he was aware of. The second was the smell of something burning, and the heavy dust in the air.

A mighty concussion shocked him upright, sending a ripple of agony down his spine and tangling him in the plastic tent over him.

With a vicious snarl, he ripped away the plastic and took account. He knew immediately what had happened, that he’d been tricked. The small, aching feeling in his chest came from being in stasis, Looking to his left, he understood how he’d escaped Oslo Wake’s planned double-cross. A gaping hole in the wall showed flashing light from outside. Someone, or something, had ripped open the wall and allowed air back into the room.

He could hear the sounds of gunfire and the screams of dying men and vampires. The compound was under attack again. He didn’t know who it was for sure, but he had a pretty good guess that Fratellanza men were fighting out there.

Julius must have found out that I’ve been kept against my will. He brought a force to free me. Together, he and I will make you pay for your treachery, Oslo Wake.

Willing his body to be lighter than air, Marco D’imato became a mist form that drifted out through the new opening in the wall, and straight into the battle.

 

36

 

Banshee. Noxplorator letalis. This creature is indistinguishable from an elf save that it may appear very gaunt. The creature wails, instilling fear to the point of blind panic in its prey, which will flee in mindless terror. The banshee rarely shows any restraint, almost always draining a victim in the initial attack.

– 

from Guide to Paranormal Creatures of North America: Awakened Animals, by E F. Paterson, MIT amp;T Press, Cambridge, 2050

 

The swirling black receded and Rachel found that she could stand. Again. She had watched Sinunu stake Truxa, and the banshee’s howl was still like an ice storm under her skin. She’d continued to fight until all the vampires were dead, and then had gone on fighting after that. She’d help Sinunu push what remained of their force toward the front of the building, hoping to crush the vampires between themselves and Julius’ men.

Rachel estimated that more than ninety vampires had died, though that number was skewed due to the fact that several of them were infected Fratellanza men from the assault a couple days ago.

And despite all the killing, despite all the anger she’d channeled into the fight, she couldn’t get Truxa’s last scream out of her mind. That howl haunted Rachel as she and Sinunu and de Vries made their way across the battlefield, pausing now and then to stake anyone, Fratellanza or not, who looked as if he or she might be able to get back up.

Dead bodies lay like chaff on ground, which had been dusty and gray, but was now a muck of volcanic ash and black blood. The shell-shocked survivors were still busy, staking men who had once been their friends and carring off bodies to the large pyres that were burning across the landscape. Short Eyes had slotted the priest chip at some time during the fighting, and refused to take the chip out. So now she was giving last riles to the ones about to be staked, her body soaked in blood and mud, her face filled with holy glee.

Across the grotesque landscape. Rachel could make out the loading docks and a trio of figures standing there, the center one being supported by the other two. Even without her helmet’s enhanced sighting, she could distinguished the silver hair of Julius on the right and the red hair of Biggs on the left. And in the middle…

Suddenly, her exhaustion was forgotten as she started to run. Sinunu stumbled behind her, but de Vries caught and supported her as they followed close behind.

Rachel reached the loading dock, and Julius flashed her a tight grin, full of pain. Biggs looked exhausted beyond comprehension as he and Julius laid Warren on the floor. “Killian!” Julius yelled. “Killian! Where the frag is that mage?”

“Here, sir,” came his voice.

“Heal him.” Julius said.

As the mage spoke in low tones, Rachel walked over to Warren, feeling a sense of apprehension she couldn’t quite place. Kneeling down, she put her hands on his face, which was hot and sweaty. “Honey?”

Warren’s head lolled for a moment, then slowly his eyes opened. Rachel felt a huge weight fall from her shoulders as she saw the light of sanity in his eyes. She wasn’t sure what Warren had been subjected to here, and she feared the worst.

“Rach?” Warren’s voice was slurred.

“Yeah, baby. I’m here.” Rachel felt his hand on her shoulder.

“Had a bad dream,” said Warren.

“Go back to sleep.”

Killian finished his enchantment as de Vries walked up with Sinunu. “He’ll be all right,” he said. “Just needs rest.”

Behind them, de Vries held Sinunu, keeping her from collapsing to floor.

In front of Rachel Biggs looked up. “She gonna make it?” Rachel turned and looked at Sinunu, her white skin positively blue from blood loss.

“She’s about had it,” de Vries said. “Massive internal injuries, enough broken bones to make a combat biker blush, but she’ll pull through. I can help her, as long as we can get her some place where her wounds won’t come in contact with all the blood on the ground. Some of the virus might still be viable, and… He didn’t finish his sentence, but Rachel could tell by the look in his eyes that even the famed vampire hunter would have a hard time putting a stake in Sin if she were infected.

Julius nodded. “Take her inside. My men have cleared the first six levels, and haven’t met with any resistance whatsoever, so I’m assuming the man behind this committed all his forces to the defense. It should be safe.”

With Warren in tow, they moved Sinunu inside the entrance, which looked as if some giant had reached down and punched his way through. They gently laid her down on the glass-strewn carpet.

Suddenly. Rachel’s vision swam. Two of her closest friends were nearly dead. Warren, her love, and Sinunu-her new chummer and a woman who had put her life on the line for Rachel. The feelings that washed over her, seeing Warren barely alive and Sin almost dead, were more than she could stand. They both stood on the terminus line, pushing against the pale veil. Waiting to step beyond, or step back.

One of the Fratellanza men appeared from the stairwell. “We came across one of the docs trying to get away,” he said. We tagged him twice, but he managed to lock himself into some sort of tunnel. I figure he’ll bleed himself out before he gets too far, but I’ve sent a couple of men to try and track the tunnel above ground.”

Julius turned to him, nodding.

“What did he look like?” It was de Vries, and his tone was worried.

The man shrugged, his broad shoulders jumping. “I dunno, kinda small, dark-skinned.”

“Damn” said de Vries, standing.

Julius turned to the vampire, and knew in an instant. “Your mysterious insider?”

De Vries didn’t look at him, but nodded. “Doctor Pakow. I should have warned you about him, but I didn’t want to give him up-Just in case tonight turned out differently.”

Julius turned to Biggs. “Tell the men to find him, but not to hurt him. They are to render whatever aid they can to make sure he stays alive.”

Biggs nodded and left by the front door, speaking quickly into his commlink.

When Rachel turned back, however, she saw that Sinunu was breathing regularly, though her eyes still had that glossy, faraway stare to them, She was going to be okay.

And with that thought, the fatigue crashed in on Rachel. She rested her head on Warren’s chest and closed her eyes. Just for a moment.

 

37

 

Some people say the nasty art of cybermancy doesn’t even exist. But anyone who’s been following our recent posts knows better. I got curious enough-and scared enough-that I went digging for more info. What I learned is that this is some major, major mojo-heavy-duty magic with bad consequences. You got to be aware of it if you want to live to tell the tale. My advice? If you’re looking for it, don’t. And if you’ve got to deal with someone who’s got it, run. Fast. And don’t look back.

– 

Posted to Shadowland BBS by Captain Chaos, New Magic e-doc, 10 January 2057

 

At first, Marco couldn’t believe his ears. He had taken refuge in the building, knowing that if he joined the battle between the Fratellanza troops and Wake’s vampires, he might be taken out in the confusion. He had stayed just out of sight, willing to let his little brother take down the enemy, but, now, right there was his brother. Talking with the man who had killed Derek.

Marco shook his head, which had begun to ring, a warning sign of another seizure.

Filled with rage, he willed his body to float, and pressed himself forward, in mist form. His pain faded, and his rage grew focused.

The vampire, the one known as Martin de Vries, had his back to him, and Marco concentrated himself toward that point. A meter from the hated vampire’s back, he let his form solidify, bringing his hands into being before the rest of him. Curling his fingers into stiff claws, he jabbed forward with all his strength and speed, set to rip de Vries’ heart from his chest and devour it before the vampires dying eyes.

Except de Vries wasn’t there any more, and Marco’s hands thrust through empty air.

His momentum carried him forward, and he stumbled painfully. With an effort, he kept his footing.

“Clumsy,” came de Vries’ mocking voice from behind him. “Did you honestly think that a deformed thing such as yourself could challenge a true vampire?”

Marco turned slowly, letting his rage build. “You are an abomination, not me. You are a self-hating freak who can’t even bring himself to commit suicide, but instead takes out his self-loathing on his own kind.”

Marco smiled as he saw his words hit home, but De Vries’ voice was calm as he replied. “You are not my own kind. You are nothing more than a rabid beast that needs to he put out of its misery.”

Marco felt a tightness in his stomach as he raised his hands. “Talk, talk. If I’m so beneath you, then have at it. Maybe I’ll teach you what I’ve learned in such a short amount of time.”

De Vries smiled and stepped forward.

“No!” It was Julius, from just to Marco’s left.

Marco didn’t turn. “I’ll deal with you soon enough, little brother. You have a lot to learn about family.”

De Vries, however, had stopped moving forward, and was looking over Marco’s shoulder. With a small bow, the other vampire stepped back.

Marco glanced back quickly, to see Julius standing with a flamethrower pointing directly at him. Behind his brother, Marco caught sight of Warren lying on the floor. Warren looked absolutely normal, and it made Marco’s heart sink to see it. Wake had lied to him. Pakow had lied to him. Warren hadn’t undergone the procedure.

“It’s over, Marco,” Julius said. “You’ve caused enough pain. Both to the people I love, and to the people who served you. It ends now.”

Marco cast one glance back at de Vries, who said, “I’ll not interfere. Sometimes it is best for family to straighten itself out.”

Marco turned to face his brother. “Even when we were children, little brother, you could never beat me. What makes you think you can do it now that I’m stronger than I’ve ever been?”

Julius shook his head. “Stronger?” His voice was soft. “I don’t see any strength in you, Marco. All I see is a craven coward who has always preyed on the weak.”

Without warning. Marco moved. Using his legs to awkwardly propel him across the floor, he managed to move with a speed that surprised even him.

Julius never flinched as he triggered his flamethrower. Marco screamed as the fire consumed him. It felt as if his entire body were being ravaged by a million razors. Through the flame, he saw Julius. and let his momentum carry him forward.

The last thing he felt was the flesh of his brother’s neck part beneath his burning hands.

 

38

 

There will come a day, make no mistake about it, when humanity is going to have to rise up against these monsters, and take the fight to them. There will come a time when normal people will grow weary of the night being ruled by the forces of evil. Then, and only then, will they finally rise up in the morning, and drag the vampires of Ordo Maximus out of their darkened rooms, and expose them to the deadly, cleansing sunlight. Let just pray that day doesn’t come too late.

– 

Martin de Vries. Shadows at Noon, posted to Shadowland BBS, 24 May 2057

 

With a curse, Rachel kicked the still burning body of Marco off of Julius, who lay in a growing pool of his own blood, choking.

Rachel knelt by him, quickly pressing her hands to Julius’ wounds. “Julius?”

Julius managed a tired smile. “Finally beat him at something.” He coughed, and choked up blood.

Suddenly Rachel’s world turned into an inferno, Explosion after explosion tore through the compound, ripping the structure apart.

De Vries was the first to react, as the wall of flame spread down the hall.

The next thing Rachel knew, the vampire had taken hold of both her and Julius and flung them out through the door, Rachel landed, still clutching Julius to her chest, She looked up just in time to see de Vries streak out of the burning building with Warren and Sin over his shoulders.

A ten-meter gout of flame followed them, and seemed to lick at his back like a hungry beast whose prey has just managed to escape its vicious jaws.

Then the flame was gone, snuffed out by the shock wave that followed, a shock wave that caused the entire compound to crumble in on itself.

De Vries hadn’t stopped running. He carried Warren and Sinunu to one of the still functional vehicles and yelled orders to the man driving it. Rachel watched as the two limp bodies were loaded up and the vehicle streamed out of sight. She wanted to be with Warren and Sin, but that would leave no one with Julius.

Nearly deafened by the roaring in her ears, she lifted her head, and called out for help. “He’s dying.”

Within moments, de Vries was there, with Killian on his heels.

Rachel looked up at the vampire. “You’ve got to help him!”

De Vries knelt beside Julius. He studied him for a few moments before doing what she guessed was some kind of magic. Then he looked Rachel in the eye. “I can heal him, but he’s infected now.” He pointed to the blood-soaked ground where Julius had fallen.

Rachel looked down at Julius, who was gazing up at her, trying to speak. She leaned close, and with an effort, she could make out his voice over the shouts of the men around him.

“Rachel, it’s my time. Accept it.”

Rachel looked into his eyes, and knew there was nothing she could do to stop the inevitable. Her heart hardened again and she stood.

“Give me the flamethrower,” she said.

Surprisingly, it was Biggs who handed her the weapon.

She strapped it on and pointed the nozzle down at Julius’ body. He was in pain and would soon change as the virus took control. Rachel stepped back and triggered the flame watching as the man’s body was consumed by the ravenous jaws of fire.

She tossed the flamethrower to the ground, and looked up.

De Vries smiled softly at her. “I know it’s difficult.”

A trembling hit Rachel, and she sat down heavily. “Not as difficult as it should be.”

De Vries nodded. “Listen, there’s something I have to do, and I’m not sure how it’s going to work out. So if I don’t see you again, I want you to know that you’ve shown an old vampire what being human means again.”

Rachel looked up. “Where are you going?”

De Vries smiled, and looked behind him, then back at her. “The bad guy is getting away, and I’m probably the only one who can stop him.”

With that, he turned to mist and disappeared into the smoke of the battlefield.

Rachel looked around her at all the wreckage. Among the battered vehicles, two were still burning.

Just off to her left, she saw a few of the Fratellanza men loading a heavy green container into one of the Citymaster trucks. She knew that box, had seen a number of them being loaded.

“Hey!” she yelled to the men with the container. She struggled back to her feet. “Hey, boys. Let me talk to you for a moment.”

 

39

 

Lucky for us, cybemancy isn’t widespread and probably won’t become so-this drek is heavy magic. Stands to reason that the few magicians who know the rituals guard their secrets very, very carefully and probably charge staggering fees for their services. The clinics apparently can’t do the whole cybermancy thing without these mages, and there are maybe only three or four of them on the whole planet. And nobody knows for sure who the frag they are.

– 

Posted to Shadowiand BBS by Captain Chaos, New Magic e-doc, 10 January 2057

 

Pakow hit the ground hard as the shock wave caused the earth to roll beneath his feet. For the better part of a minute, he simply lay there, the pain ratcheting through his body. He smelled blood and feces and knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

Choking on the foul dust that floated through the air, he tried to stand, but found he couldn’t.

So close, he thought, just another hundred meters and I would have made it.

His hand tightened convulsively on the chip he still held. I’m sorry, Shiva. I let you down again.

With that thought, Pakow grew angry. Wake had done this to him. Wake had cost him everything, and for what? For some stupid project that was supposed to save the world. What good would it do to save the world when saving it meant changing it beyond recognition?

Fueled by his anger, Pakow found the strength to pull himself up onto his hands and knees. The back of his coveralls were drenched in blood, as was the front. In the dim orange light from what was left of the compound, the blood was black, and looked evil.

Pakow almost smiled at the thought. I’ve seen more blood than most living men, and this is the first time I’ve ever thought of it as being good or evil. I guess it takes dying to put things into perspective.

He pushed himself to one knee and then to his feet. Staggering like a drunken man, he made his way toward the helipad.

If I can just make it, Wake can heal me. He has to. Who else is familiar enough with his work to be any use? Who else is going to be willing to help a madman destroy everything he cares about?

As he got closer to the low rise that hid the helipad from the rest of the compound, Pakow could hear the quiet whine of electric turbines.

He paused to rest for a moment, and turned to look at his weaving tracks in the fine dust. Like a damn snake that’s lost its mind.

Pakow smiled at the thought, and realized that blood loss was making him giddy.

Got to get there before it’s too late.

With that sobering thought, he started off again.

He crested the rise to find the helipad in darkness. Only the high-pitched turbine sound gave any indication that there was life down below.

“Did you bring the chip?” Wake’s voice floated out from the empty landscape to his left, causing Pakow to stumble.

Turning, he saw the tall, skinny form appear, only steps away.

“You’ve been there all along,” said Pakow, pointing a finger at Wake. “Been standing there watching me, and you didn’t even try and help?”

Wake smiled in the dim light, and his eyes glittered. “I couldn’t, actually. It would have compromised the spell I was casting. Did you bring the chip?”

Pakow looked down at his chest, at the fresh blood covering the ash-clotted old blood. “I’m hurt bad. I need some help.”

Wake nodded as Pakow looked back up at him. “Yes you do. Did. You. Bring. The. Chip?”

Pakow stared at Wake for a moment. “Help me.”

Wake shook his head. “I would if I could, Doctor Pakow. Believe me, it won’t be easy to replace you, but that is a cross I will just have to bear.”

Pakow felt the strength go out of his legs, and he sank to his knees. “What are you saying?”

Wake moved forward. “I’m sorry. I truly am. But it was you who led the wolf to our door, and even though I understand why you did it, that is still a big no-no.”

Pakow shook his head to clear it. Wake’s voice was drifting in and out and it was starting to confuse him. He suddenly felt far away from his body. The pain was still there, but it was disconnected somehow.

He tried to speak, but Wake shushed him with the press of his long fingers to Pakow’s lips. “Still, I would probably have saved you, but you’re too much of a risk to me now. If I took you with me, it wouldn’t take them long to find you. Not with all the blood you’ve left on the ground. If they found you, they’d find me too. I can’t allow that to happen. I’m very Sorry.”

Pakow talked past Wake’s fingers. “Shiva? My daughter?” Wake smiled gently, and Pakow thought it was the first time he’d ever seen the man look human. “Except for your recent actions, you have served me well. Rest easy. I’ll make sure your wife and daughter are well cared for.”

Pakow looked into that face and knew that Wake couldn’t be trusted to keep his word. “Shiva would never take anything from you,” be said bitterly. “She knows right from wrong, and you are evil. She would never take your charity.”

Wake smiled. “Now the chip, if you please, Doctor. There are people starting to search this area, no doubt looking for you. I’m running out of time.” He held out a bony hand, palm up.

Pakow smiled. “I’ll see you in whatever hell is reserved for those who have betrayed humanity.” And with the last ounce of strength he possessed, Pakow flung the chip out into the darkness.

Wake caught him as he fell, and Pakow looked into the other man’s eyes. For the first time, Pakow noticed that they were blue.

Wake smiled down at him, a tender, awkward look that didn’t sit well on his skull face. “I understand, and I won’t hold it against you. Now rest easy, Doctor. You deserve it.”

Wake lowered him gently to the ground, then Pakow watched as Wake drifted into the darkness in the direction he had thrown the chip.

He lay there, looking up at the night sky, which was surprisingly clear. The stars were faint, because of the fires raging near the compound, yet they twinkled softly. Like distant echoes in his mind, Pakow could hear the shouts of men, men who were looking for him, looking for Wake.

He didn’t care any more. Suddenly, all the pain in his body eased, and he was floating.

 

40

 

Let it be known that on this day; 10 August 2060. due to the overwhelming evidence presented, as well as the accused’s apparent refusal to come to his own defense, this court has no choice but to rule in favor of the party of the first part. Effective immediately, all control of said Fratellanza monies and property shall be transferred to Julius D’imato, pending a formal investigation into the mental capacity of Marco D’imato.

– 

from D’imato vs D’imato, Writ of Judgment 3387-BLE-67 GHE, Magnolia Bluff District Court, Judge B. L. Clausen, presiding, 10 August 2060

 

De Vries watched as the tall, gaunt man walked away from the prone body of Raul Pakow. Shifting his senses to the astral, he saw the dark plane become filled with diffused light.

Glancing down, de Vries saw the last of Pakow’s aura slip away, his body growing dark, where once there had been light. I’m sorry. I wish things could have ended differently for you.

De Vries didn’t have time for more sentiment than that, because when he turned his astral sight back toward the walking man, the man who had to be Oslo Wake, he was stunned.

Wake obviously had no idea anyone was watching him, or he surely would have taken care to mask his aura. De Vries had gone up against enough creatures of darkness and magical prowess to see that Wake was at least an initiate of magic.

And he could tell that Wake also had a number of summoned spirits on call. Considering what the man had accomplished here, his power must be phenomenal. The other thing de Vries saw with utter clarity from the astral was that Oslo Wake was not sane, not even close.

Insane and incredibly powerful.

Wake was searching the ground carefully, probably for the chip de Vries had watched Pakow toss away from them. He Look a deep breath, thinking he could use a cigarette right now.

De Vries knew he wasn’t up to battling somebody of Wake’s power-not even on a good day when he was at full strength. Now, after fierce fighting, he was magically drained, physically exhausted, and daylight was fast approaching.

Still, there didn’t seem to be anyone else in a position to stop Wake from getting away. Taking another deep breath, de Vries stepped forward, heading toward the two waiting helos at an angle that would cut Wake off from his avenue of escape.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a cigarette, would you?” he said. “It seems I’ve crushed my pack.”

Wake, his back to de Vries, stiffened for a moment but didn’t turn. Continuing to scan the ground, Wake said, “My apologies, Mister de Vries. However, I do not smoke. Unlike you, smoking would shorten my life span, and that just isn’t something the world can afford to have happen right now.”

De Vries had finally covered enough space to put himself directly between Wake and the waiting helicopters, which rested on the pad about a hundred meters distant. “My, my, my, is that an inflated sense of importance I hear? The world will get along just fine without you, Doctor Wake, or may I call you Oslo?”

Wake finally bent down to the dusty ground and picked up something too small for de Vries to see, but it had to be the chip. De Vries could only guess what might be on it, but it was obviously important enough that Wake would risk death rather than leave it behind. There was no way de Vries could allow him to have it.

Wake straightened up and turned, a beaming smile that looked maniacal on his hollow cheeks “My dear, dear, dear, nearly perfect vampire. There is so much you don’t understand, and so much you can’t possibly realize at this moment. Unfortunately, the rest of your compatriots are enroute to us even as we speak, so I’m not able to take the time to fully educate you. However, I offer you a trade off of sorts.”

De Vries felt his skin crawl, something that hadn’t happened for so long he was at first unsure of the sensation. “Why do I have a difficult time imagining you offering me anything I might want?”

Wake walked forward, slowly shortening the distance between them, and for de Vries, it seemed us if his whole life, everything he had ever done, everything he had become, came down to this moment.

“That would just be another indication of your lack of understanding. I’m guessing you think my mission in this place was to create a mindless army of vampires to take over the world, or something equally melodramatic and wholly unviable.”

De Vries shrugged. “I’d be lying if I said that something like that didn’t go through my mind, but now I know it’s something else. I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re simply insane, which makes any effort to fathom a logical reason for why you’re trying to destroy the world an exercise in sheer futility.”

Instead of getting angry, Wake laughed. “I can see how that might have occurred to you. However, you’re mistaken.” He stopped talking suddenly, and cocked his head to the side, as if listening to distant voices. The effect would have been comic were it not so disturbing.

“Say, now that’s an idea,” said Wake, looking at de Vries again, a tic causing his left cheek to jump. I don’t have time to explain it all to you right now, especially when you’re obviously planning to try and stop me from leaving. So, why don’t you just come with me? I could show you things that would change your ideas about what I’m trying to do, and you could make sure I don’t do anything to threaten the world until you’re sure I’m not insane.”

De Vries looked at him closely. “Sort of like my own personal vacation in hell, with the devil himself as my tour guide? I think I’d rather just end this madness now, instead of prolonging it.”

Wake stepped forward again. “De Vries, listen to me and listen closely, because I’m nearly out of time, and certainly out of patience. I can do things for you, things you could never dream. I can make you walk in the light of day again. can eradicate your blood lust. When was the last time you had a cup of coffee, ate a fresh fruit, tasted real meat? When was the last time you felt the sun shine on your face? All these things I can give you, without sacrificing any of the powers you possess.”

“You mean I can be a freak like D’imato and his son? No thank you.”

Wake shook his head violently. “Don’t be absurd, no, nothing like those… creatures. What I’m offering you is the next step in the evolution of humanity. And from what I know of you, no other vampire deserves the chance I’m offering. Even without my help you’ve retained more of your humanity than any other vampire I have ever known. You are a crusader on a quest as serious as my own, a vampire who doesn’t seek to exploit metahumanity for his own purposes, but hopes to save it. You have become, on your own, something very close to what I am trying to achieve.”

De Vries felt his jaws tighten. “You’re babbling. Get to the point.”

“I will try one more time,” Wake said, but if you don’t get it on this pass, I’ll be forced to leave without you. Imagine a world where every human and meta had all of the strengths of a vampire, without any of the drawbacks. No allergy to sunlight, no bloodlust, no fear of getting a splinter under your skin. Where disease is virtually unknown, and most important, a world where the evil ones, those dark vampires that exist now, would become second-class citizens. Doesn’t that sound like paradise?”

For just a moment, De Vries held his breath. What Wake was suggesting was fantastic, beyond anything he’d ever thought possible. “You’re saying that you’re trying to save the world from vampires by turning everyone into vampires?”

Wake nodded.

A chill washed over de Vries. “You truly are mad. You have no idea what becoming a vampire does to a man’s soul, and I don’t think you’ve given the slightest thought to the ramifications of mutating the whole world without anyone’s consent.”

De Vries moved quickly, hoping his words might have thrown Wake off-guard. He leapt through the air, feeling the mana build under his skin. The moment of truth.

Wake stared at him coming, and simply waved his hand in the air, a look of boredom crossing his skeleton face.

De Vries felt his body crash into a barrier that wouldn’t give. The momentum bent his back, and Wake’s barrier slammed him to the ground. He felt his body wrack with pain as the drain of his own failed spell coursed through him.

“So the little vampire wants to play? We can play.” Wake’s voice was distant over the roaring pain in de Vries’ head.

He felt exhaustion wash over him. He didn’t have much left to give, and he knew that another spell of that power would knock him unconscious.

Wake stared at him for a moment. “I can see that the fighting has weakened you. Perhaps another time I’ll have the chance to see how you might have fared if the playing field were a bit more level, so to speak. However, that pleasure will have to wait for another day. I’m sorry you couldn’t see the light.”

With that, Wake stepped around de Vries and walked toward the two waiting helos, which began to power up on his approach.

With everything he had left in him, de Vries played his last card, he focused himself channeling his power into a tiny corridor, aimed not at Wake himself, but at the chip Wake still held in his hand.

Pushing outward, with an effort that caused stars to dance in front of his eyes de Vries lashed out with his spell.

The chip in Wake’s hand exploded.

Wake stopped walking, and looked down at his now empty hand, as if he’d never seen it before.

De Vries tried to get to his feet, but was simply unable to make the effort. Even concentrating enough to change to mist form was beyond him for the moment. He was completely at Wake’s mercy, and for the first time since seeing his unborn, vampire baby, de Vries was filled with fear.

Wake looked at him for a moment, then started to laugh, the sound rising into the air like the scream of a banshee. Still laughing. Wake turned and walked to the closest helicopter.

De Vries struggled into a sitting position, listening to the whine of the rotors. He shook his head, and turned to look back toward the burning glow of the complex.

Just over the side of the hill, he saw a form approaching, standing tall and walking with a quick, confident stride. For just a moment, de Vries couldn’t figure out what he was seeing, but then his sense of smell told him. It was Rachel. and she was carrying something over her shoulder.

She reached him in moments, and as she came closer, he knew what she carried. It was a rocket launcher, the same kind Julius’ men had used to hit the compound.

“You solid?” she asked, her voice emotionless, exhausted. De Vries nodded.

She jerked her thumb toward the two helos that were just starting to lift off the ground. “That the bad guy?”

Again, de Vries nodded.

“Good. Thought so.” With that, she pulled the rocket launcher from her back, and settled it onto her right shoulder.

“You know how to use one of those things?” De Vries found the strength to stand.

“Point and shoot. What could be simpler?”

De Vries laughed. “Might as well save the round. He’s got magic power enough to bat that thing out of the air. You probably won’t even get close.”

Rachel shrugged. “Never know until you try.”

De Vries watched her track the twin flying forms and heard the settling of her breathing. Then she pulled the trigger.

A gout of flame shot out the back of the launcher, as the rocket flashed through the night sky, tracking the lead helo, which was just below the other one.

De Vries watched in fascination as the rocket ran true, and for just a moment, he let himself hope that Wake was less prepared than de Vries imagined.

Suddenly, de Vries could see a ripple of the flames around the helo, and he knew what was happening. Wake had called on a fire elemental. The rocket detonated in mid-air, well before it hit the helo, and de Vries knew that Wake had managed to escape death again He was about to say so to Rachel, when the second helo flew directly into the path of the blast and exploded.

Like a train wreck in slow motion, the burning wreckage of the second helo tipped downward, smashing into the one carrying Oslo Wake.

The first helo collapsed as its engines flamed out.

Both copters came crashing to the ground.

 

41

 

The shadows are deadly enough at night, my friends: do not let them grow to darken the sky at noon.

– 

Martin de Vries, Shadows at Noon, posted to Shadowland BBS, 24 May 2051

 

Rachel stood in the middle of Warren’s old flat, the noon sun filtering through the windows and making the dust motes dance in the air. She looked around at the sculptures that stood in all the places she remembered them, but now were coated with a layer of grime.

It had been two weeks since the battle out in Hell’s Kitchen. Two long, hard weeks that had changed everything for Rachel. They had searched the wreckage of Wake’s helicopter, but had found nothing they could identify as Wake’s body. Maybe he had somehow managed to escape, even though it seemed impossible.

So they had backtracked. Evidently. Julius had come across something about Zulu BioGen before the first assault, and it turned out to be the only lead worth anything. The company was owned by a series of dummy corporations, which finally led them to something called UbiqueGenetics, ou of Austria, UbiqueGenetics was the sole property of one Oslo Wake.

So de Vries and Short Eyes were off to Austria, and Sinunu was going with them.

Rachel ran her fingers through her short hair, brushing her palm against the new datajack just below her hairline. She had thought about letting the hair grow back out, but she couldn’t bring herself to do that. Just as she knew she could never again return to her old life.

Rachel walked over to the work table and threw back the drop cloth from the piece of stone sitting there. The demon was just as it had been two weeks ago, though it seemed more like two lifetimes. It had been almost ten days since Warren was released from the private clinic, but he hadn’t set foot back here. Hadn’t come back to the things he’d loved so much. Instead, when he learned of his father’s death and that the workings of his fathers and his uncle’s wills had made him sole owner of Fratellanza, Inc., he’d gone straight to his father’s former mansion in Magnolia Bluff and taken up residence there. Apparently, he planned to carry on the D’imato name and business.

Rachel hadn’t even been able to see him since his release.

She smiled wryly. Even if I was able to go back to my old life, most of my old life doesn’t exist anymore.

Flak was gone, Warren had changed, and even more important, she herself had changed. Rachel thought about how excited she’d been, in this very room, to meet Wolf and to begin seeing real shadowrunners in action. The memory almost made her laugh. She touched the still-tender datajack on her forehead, looked down at the scars on her hands, and felt the comforting weight of Sinunu’s Manhunter at her back.

She was a shadowrunner now, and there was no way she could step back into the light. But if she had known then what she knew now, maybe she wouldn’t have been so determined. Walking the shadows meant giving up everything. It meant losing people you cared about, until you found it hard to care about anyone.

Standing there, she felt a cool breeze swirl through the room, as someone opened the front door. She didn’t bother to turn. “Hello, Warren. Long time no see”

From behind her, a low chuckle filled the doss. “Rachel, I see you’re as perceptive as ever.”

Rachel still didn’t turn. “Thanks for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet with me.”

The voice was closer now. “Don’t be like that. Rachel. You know I’d have been to see you before now, but I’ve been up to my hoop trying to figure out what I’m going to do with the business.”

Rachel smiled to herself. “Of course.”

She felt the touch of his hand on her shoulder. “I just can’t figure out why you wanted to meet here.”

“You can’t?”

Rachel gestured toward the stone demon. “You know, when you first started working on this, I remember thinking it was ugly. It frightened me. Now, I can’t imagine why I ever felt that way. It’s beautiful. Look at the strength in the torso, the grace in the wings. And it’s not even finished yet.”

She finally turned to look Warren in the face. His hair had been cut, the long pony-tail replaced by the buzzed, functional cut favored by so many corp types. Somewhere he’d found the time to catch a tan, and it suited him. Still, it only emphasized that the man she’d loved seemed to have vanished.

“How come you don’t get all of this stuff and take it to your new place? I know you’re busy, but aren’t you ever going to finish any of these?”

For a moment, Warren looked angry. Then he turned away. “I don’t have time for this anymore. Nor the desire. You’ve got to understand. I have an entire corporation to run, and even if! did have the time to waste with this… hobby, I’d be too tired to try.”

Rachel nodded to his back. “I thought you might say something like that. But somehow it’s not quite right. When was the last time you ate, Warren, or maybe I should say, when was the last time you fed?”

Warren turned in a smooth motion, but found himself looking down the barrel of the sawed off double-barrel shotgun that de Vries had found for her. “Rachel, have you flipped?”

“When was the last time you fed?”

Warren smiled, and reached a finger up to his right eye. With a grin, he popped the brown contact out, leaving only white, with a pinhole of night at the center. “You mean when was the last time I killed someone and sucked their life out of them?”

Rachel shrugged. “Whatever you want to call it.”

Warren put the contact back in, and laughed. “I thought you might have guessed. That’s why I’ve avoided you. If anybody would know, it would be you. Still, to answer your question… the one you asked, not the one you implied, I had chicken primavera this afternoon in my office.”

Rachel pulled back the double-cocking mechanism on the antique weapon.

Warren smiled. “It’s true. I eat, I drink coffee, wine, whatever. I sleep during the night and am awake during the day.”

Rachel laughed. “Your uncle could pull that off, too.”

Warren stepped toward her slowly. “I promise I’m not going to try anything. But I want you to do something. Touch my skin.”

Rachel thought about it for a second, figuring the angles he might use, thinking about his speed, about what tricks he might still have up the sleeve of his Armante jacket. Using her free hand, she reached out and touched his face. “Damn.”

Warren smiled. “No makeup. Except for my eyes, I seem to be completely normal. Well, not completely normal. Better than that, better than I’ve ever been before. I can hear things, see things, do things I would never have believed possible before.”

Rachel stepped back from him, the twin barrels of the shotgun still centered just below his nose. “You’re telling me you got all this with no drawbacks, no side effects?”

For the first time, Warren looked sad. He turned and gazed around at the sculptures. “You know that’s not true. There are… side effects. I can’t do my art anymore.”

“Thought so.”

He turned back to her. “I tried. I came here right after I got out of the clinic.” He shrugged. “Nothing. There was just nothing there.”

Rachel continued backing toward the door. “And that’s it. You lost your art, and that’s the only thing wrong with what happened to you?”

Warren looked puzzled. “What am you getting at? Yes, that’s the only thing. I haven’t gone out and eaten anybody, nor have I had the desire to do so. What’s wrong with you?”

Rachel smiled sadly. “If you don’t know what else you’ve lost, then I guess my telling you won’t make that much difference. Still, I suppose I should at least say goodbye. I’m headed for Austria with de Vries and Sinunu. It won’t matter to you anyway.”

Warren still looked confused. “Rachel, you’re not making any sense. I didn’t lose anything else, I swear.” Then he seemed to catch the look in her eye.

Warren smiled. “My dear Rachel, don’t be foolish. Even if I can’t manage to dodge all of the shotgun pellets, you don’t honestly think a few little pieces of brass will hurt, do you?”

It was Rachel’s turn to smile. “The real Warren would have known me better than that. Have you grown so cocky, so foolish as to think I would come here unprepared to take you down? Believe me, I’ve refined the art of vampire-killing in the last two weeks. I’ve spent every waking moment preparing for this.”

Her smile faded. “Goodbye, Warren.”

Warren moved, a tanned blur in a thousand-nuyen suit, but he wasn’t nearly fast enough.

Rachel pulled the first of the triggers on the shotgun, and it jumped in her hand like a live thing. Instead of a roar, the gun made a truncated whoof as a hundred real-wood flechettes cut through Warren and buried themselves into the wall at his back.

Warren’s momentum carried him to the floor, curled into a ball, a scream of pain echoing in the room. “You slitch! I’ll kill you for that!” Warren’s voice was a strangled snarl, and Rachel could see the already festering wounds where the wood flechettes had done their work.

Rachel took another step backward, and by now she was almost to the doorway. Warren was struggling to get to his feel, but some of his motor control seemed to be slipping away.

“When you get to hell, tell the real Warren that I love him and that I always will.”

Warren staggered toward her, his face distended in agony and rage.

Almost casually, Rachel triggered the second round in the shotgun. Instead of wood flechettes, a solid-core slug slammed into Warren’s chest.

As the white phosphorous round erupted and began to burn him from the inside out, Warren threw back his head, as if to scream for the last time. Instead of sound, the only thing that came out of his mouth was a gout of green flame.

With that, Rachel turned and walked out of the doss and into the sunshine. She walked quickly, but casually, across the street to the waiting stepvan, which Sinunu had kept running.

Sinunu turned to face her, her pale albino skin showing newly healed, pink scars. “Did it go like you thought?”

Rachel nodded, but felt a tear track down her cheek. “Yeah.” Then she turned and smiled through her tears. “Let’s get the hell out of here before the entire block goes tip in flames.”

Sinunu pulled away from the street corner, and in the mid-September sunshine, the two of them headed for the airport.

 

EPILOGUE

 

His new offices at Zulu BioGen reeked of bleach and disinfectants. He had the top four floors of an ancient hospital, made of naked and pockmarked gray concrete. Ugly, if functional. The security was tight and he had plenty of room to set up his operation.

Oslo Wake stood up from his desk and walked to the window. Green mountains capped with snow loomed around the narrow valley. And in the distance, Old Salzburg sat like a time-preserved miniature city in a snow bubble. Only it wasn’t snowing now; the sky let forth an agonizing slow drizzle of rain.

It’s fitting that Mozart once lived here, thought Wake. The city understands genius. Understands it and accepts it.

He ran a hand over the burns covering the left side of his face and neck. He knew he was lucky to still be alive. And he wouldn’t be if his fire elemental hadn’t protected him from the blast. The escape from Hell’s Kitchen had been too close. The losses too high.

He had to replace Pakow-a man he’d groomed for greatness.

He had to replenish his forces.

He had to recover the data on the HMHVV strains. Pakows chip had contained data-viral RNA sequences and experimental results on all the strains of the virus. But that’s not all it had contained; it also held the datavault addresses and the decryption algorithms to access the backup host.

Everything had been backed up over the Matrix to a red host in the Netherlands Antilles.

I must get that data.

As Wake stared out at the birthplace of perhaps the most brilliant musical mind in history, he knew it was only a matter of time before his deckers would breach the hosts IC. Then the contents of the datavault would be restored to him.

Then he could create another like Warren D’imato. He could create an army of them.

Laughter rang out from Wake’s throat, echoing off the gray concrete walls. High-pitched laughter, edged with hysteria. With insanity.