Vampire Planet

Vampire Planet

Copyright © Amos T. Fairchild

Smashwords Edition

Cover design copyright © Amos T. Fairchild 2011

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

.o0o.

Other Books by Amos T. Fairchild

Mirrim Dawn Series

Mirrim Dawn

Mirrim Vale

The Shards of Heaven Series

Long Days in Paradise

The Time of the Dula Kaena

The Face of Destiny

The Megan Series

Megan Evaluation

Chapter 1

It was October 23th of the 2011th year of the Gregorian calender.

It was also the day I watched my dearest Anna die.

Friend, lover, kindred sedu soul. She was the best of us, one true of the blood even though there would have been many who would have called her dimidium, half-blood, one who was somehow lesser in caste. Those who thought such things would have been few, tenebrae from an older time, those who held firm to the oldest of our beliefs. Yet I knew even they would mourn such loss. We were still all of the blood, all the same in heart and soul. Even those who had always hoped I would find a male mate and bear a tenebrae child one day would still feel this tragedy.

As I sat there in the sterile room of the emergency services office in the heart of Boston I tried to ignore the blood. Some was my own, some was that of Anna, but the majority was that of others. A young nurse was checking the wound to my chest as I sat naked and empty. I could feel her soul, knew she was there and real and strong. It was a strength that I felt I had lost and I wondered why I should live at all.

There was another from administration there, tall, male, efficient, and he was asking questions as expected - in English, I noted, and the thought of that left me with a chill. Anna had always refused to learn English, no matter how much I tried to convince her otherwise. Silvia of House Belessunu, I said, choosing to retain my native French. I thought to add that I was tenebrae, but there was little need to perpetuate the myth of class. I study and teach language in New Orleans. Anna... But words failed me. I sent further details by burst transmission.

We will alert the university in New Orleans, he then said. My condolences for your loss. This has been a terrible accident.

I stared at that and wondered at his words. I knew there had been others, those of the blood who had brought me to the facility. They would have known what had happened. They had come as I had sat amongst the death holding to the remains of Anna.

Moments that would forever be vivid.

I wished I had never come to Boston, wished it was all some nightmare. For Anna it had been her greatest dream. I was no comparison to her in swordsmanship, I had never been. I brought my Carlotti blade with me and would spar with Anna when she wished to warm up for the tournament, but I had never been a match for her. She was the best, her Rembaldi sword, like my own, heavily influenced by the blades of Nippon before the time of the cleansing.

For the last three days I had watched her fight, ever fearful of injury. I knew, like all, that there were few blows that could cause death to one of the blood, but Anna had still always worn her high leather collar whenever she competed. She knew it made me feel more at ease even though there were none of the blood who would intentionally inflict a fatal wound upon another unless they would wish for it. The tournament events were fought until first blood only, a contest of honour and mutual respect.

Anna had survived three days without losing a drop, submitting only to a well skilled British American local when he inflicted a minor wound to her shoulder. I knew Anna was disappointed with the loss, but she took it as gracefully as ever. Even a third place in such an event was a great achievement. She had smiled and yet I could see her sadness, could feel her uneasy soul.

With the defeat she was eager to head back to New Orleans rather than return to our room at the lodge even though dawn was near, the sky already glowing in the east as we walked to the portail, the local travel gate near the event. There were no others there when we approached, the majority remaining either in the shelter of the tournament building or returning to the local lodges to rest for the day. All I had was my sword and one bag of clothing, Anna much the same, and I was tired and ready for sleep after the long night.

Anna was wearing a light coat in the cool air, her leather tournament jacket well packed, while I had felt more comfortable in nothing more than my usual dirndl with a skirt of blue and a yellow apron – something I had been wearing since I woke and dressed some time before sunset. She had her Rembaldi at her hip, her stride sure and confident even with the approaching dawn. But then we lived in a world where there was little to fear, a world of peace in the pursuit of greater knowledge. Or so I believed. Now I doubted I would ever rest easy again.

When the three male figures appeared from the shadows near the local portail terminal building I gave them only a casual glance, although I did note their clothing seemed odd. They were not wearing what one would expect of those from the tournament and I could only call it ugly for want of a better word. It was bulging and ill fitting and patterned in a bizarre fashion. Then there were the odd round hats and the painted patterns on their faces and the unknown equipment they carried in their hands.

I frowned as they circled behind us while Anna seemed oblivious to them. Yet it was then I felt it, the deep chill within. As one spoke in an oddly accented English I turned and looked into his cold hard eyes and I could feel it. Hold it there, he was saying and I could see that it was a living breathing being. And yet it was empty, without soul. I looked to the others and felt the same, felt their void within. They were not sedu, I was sure of that in the first moments, even before Anna finally turned to also frown toward me. I sent a brief burst message to her, glad she was at least not one of those who still declined to use a cerebral implant for basic communication.

Anna then smiled briefly toward the soulless figures nearby...

And the shout came. Vampire! It was a term almost out of mythology; certainly not something one of the blood would call another. I looked to the one who had shouted and was certain then what he was, even though I knew that no such entity had walked the earth in over 200 years. Human. I was sure of it. Three men, human men, even as impossible as I knew that was.

There was a roar, my ears ringing, Anna lurching back and grunting, her hand moving to her chest where I saw the hole in her coat, saw the deep red of her blood seep from her body. I shouted for her to run, but I saw her rage. She knew it as well, I was sure of it. I had no need to tell her these were human, creatures out of a dark history and bedtime tales to juveniles. And they were warriors, soldiers, I was sure of that. Bringing death would be easy for them, but then death had always been easy for humanity. A humanity that had been cleansed, I reminded myself, their souls returned to their god – or at least so those who held firm to sedu theology would say.

Anna unsheathed her blade and ran at the humans, ignoring the pain I knew she felt. I moved as well, my own sword in hand; glad I was at least armed in a society where such things were ceremonial at best. Yet it was clear our foe used firearms out of a troubled past, weapons with far more range than any blade. There was another burst, but Anna was of the blood and would not die easily. They were only three and they were near, and I closed the distance quickly before one of their muskets was also used against me.

Then there was a flash and I fell in agony, my body shaking uncontrollably. It was electrics, I was sure of it, I had been accidentally shocked before and knew the sensation well enough. There was pain as I looked to the cold empty human wielding the unknown weapon, yet I retained enough control to turn and look to Anna. Only to watch her die. She had been hit with the electrics as well, and was oozing blood from the projectile wounds. The fibronelli in her tissues would knit those quickly enough, and Anna struggled as she could, but she had dropped her Rembaldi.

The humans were shouting, panicked and dangerous. I saw one reach for the blade, watched as he raised it and swung with what strength the pathetic creature had against a paralysed Anna. I tried to scream as he hacked at her beautiful white and delicate neck yet found I was without voice. He struck again and her head rolled free. I felt her depart, knew that she was dead in the flesh, her sedu soul left to wander until she might be reborn.

There were tears as I looked away, the pain easing as the human weapon was disengaged. You animals, I was able to scream in French, doubting I could ever bring myself to use the English tongue again.

They dragged me to my feet, one holding me from behind while another stood before me with my blade in his hand. The third approached the remains of Anna as her blood pooled dark in the off white candella and growing glow of the new day. Come quietly or you get the same, the human before me was saying. Or maybe we can leave you here for the daylight to deal with.

I looked to the east and wondered what he was implying. I was tenebrae, blood of the shadows, and certainly had no fondness of the raw light of Sol. I would burn easily and perhaps that would give the humans some morbid pleasure, some twisted torture from their dark past. Yet the other behind me spoke uneasily. Didn't need to do this, I could hear him say. Didn't need to kill her.

The human before me silenced him quickly. We need evac and we have what came for. He looked to the third man. I want this local coronis device tuned ready for home. There was a nod in response, and then attention was returned to me. And you're coming with us.

I stared into his eyes, noted his grim expression, but stood my ground. They had killed Anna and my life felt so very empty. I knew I could easily welcome death as I felt the point of my Carlotti on my chest slightly below my left breast. He even pressed it against me as a warning, letting its point cut into my flesh. I felt the man behind me twitch, knew I had nothing to lose.

And I lurched forward, felt my blade slip easily through my soft flesh, ignoring the pain. Then I kicked at the man before me, grasping at the hilt of the sword, pulling it toward me with all the strength I had. It was enough to catch them off guard, and they were the weak pathetic humans of history after all. The man behind groaned deep as the blade passed through me and into his own chest, and I kicked the man ahead yet again, pushing him clear and thrusting the blade deeper into his comrade as I did.

Then I felt the man behind fall away as I again stepped forward and I was free and clear. There was a human near fumbling with his electric weapon while the third was running toward me from where he had been walking toward the terminal building. I knew I had so few seconds in which to act, knew that the thought of killing was against everything I believed, even the killing of an animal without a soul – or a feeble human. As I pulled the blade from my chest I knew what I had to do to survive, knew that I must kill so that I could warn others of this new and unknown threat.

When my blade swung clear it was with more speed and strength and precision than the human could have hoped for and he was beheaded in a clean blow. It was as merciful a death as I could offer, but it was my only clear swing. The third man was upon me by then, the one who had killed my dearest Anna, his face near to my own as he attempted to restrain me. I felt the rage within, knew it was something I could not control, saw the soft white flesh of his neck so near.

There was a gurgled scream as I bit into his tissues, my canines tearing into the fragile veins and arteries. I felt his warm blood gush, tasted it as it flowed into me. Then I drank deep, eager, the blood unlike any of the best farmed cattle in all of France. I felt the power of it, felt my strength grow even further, beyond anything I had dreamed off. I knew the legends, certainly, knew what we had forsaken in the cleansing. Without humanity to feed upon we were weakened, and yet it had been the only way to at last bring peace to our world.

In time the blood no longer flowed, his heart no longer beating, and I left him to drop to the pale paving of the street. I looked back to the one I had thrust my sword into and saw he was gasping for breath, his death near. In pity I picked up my Carlotti and looked into his pleading eye, knowing like any ailing animal he wished for me to hasten his end, the blade plunged into his fragile human heart. I knew that would not kill one of the blood, but it was well enough to bring a rapid end to the human.

Then I was alone, at least for a time. With the strength the blood of the human had given me I walked to the remains of Anna, laid her more comfortably upon the hard stone, brought her head near and made her as complete as I was able.

Then I wept.

There were soon others nearby as I sat in the growing light. I felt their sedu souls and my fear was eased. They were unknown but they were of the blood, those of my kind. When hands next came upon me I knew I was again as safe as I could ever now feel.

*

Now I sat naked in the emergency services office in Boston.

It was not a large office, but then Boston was still a small provincial city very unlike the British American capital of New York, home of House Chaldea. It seemed odd that a prestigious event such as the open fencing title was held in such a place rather than Paris or Rome or even New Orleans, but the facilities were certainly more than adequate. It was modern, of course, and lacking the history and richness and character of home. Home. I still called Paris home even though I had lived and worked, taught and studied in New Orleans for the past 15 years.

The tenebrae nurse was still cleaning away the blood, the local administrator looking over me and frowning. I reconsidered his words. Accident. Anna was killed, murdered... The words came thick. I knew the term, it was part of the vocabulary of every one of the thirty-two languages I spoke fluently, and yet I doubted any had uttered such a thing in centuries. "It was not an accident."

His frowned deepened, the nurse echoing the expression and looking up to him. There will be a senior investigator here to discuss this, he said openly. This meeting will be best held in private, then came via private burst transmission. I could see the nurse was curious and uneasy and I gave a nod in response. It was perhaps not the time to speak of demons out of a little discussed history that were again walking the earth. At best she would think I suffered delusion from the traumatic stress, at worse such speech could bring unnecessary fear and panic – or perhaps not so unnecessary.

I thought to say more but was distracted by the return of the duty physician who again inspected the wound. It no longer bled and indeed on the surface it appeared as little more than a line of reddened and slightly swollen flesh. He manipulated the area briefly anyway, speaking softly in local English. The fibronelli do their work, he pondered. This is the only wound?

I nodded and thought to mention the electrics weapon that had been used against me by the humans, but there was little to see. The device had struck my left shoulder and now little evidence remained. There was an area of redness perhaps, yet it was fading fast and I failed to think of a way to mention it without referring to the humans.

Another assistant entered the bland, pale room a moment later, a large mug of blood in her hands. And it really was a mug, reminiscent of some human beer vessel straight out of folklore. It was plain glass and poorly moulded, a mass-produced item normally seen in the smaller inns and lodges. Some would say dimidium glass, yet Anna would have found the mug just as humorous and lacking in taste. Of course this was not the court of a ruling house I had to remind myself, my soul cooling with the thought of my dearest Anna.

You should drink, feed, gain strength, the physician was saying. This will aid the fibronelli do their work.

I feel well, I said, maintaining my French and caring little if he understood, yet I also knew he was not likely to take no for an answer. The warm mug was offered and I accepted with a smile, the assistant leaving a moment later. He watched then as I paused, the mug in hand, and in time I drank, felt the warmth of the blood gliding within.

I knew it was the blood of an ox, something I had fed upon countless times, blood that had been carefully harvested from farmed stock with minimal trauma, and I suspected it was local rather than from the prime herds of home. Yet I doubted that even had it been the best France had to offer I would find it fulfilling in the least. The fire of the human blood was still fresh, the insipid red fluid I now drank more like a badly prepared pea soup in comparison. I drained the mug anyway, knew it would sustain me as it had always done. Not that it would matter. I still retained much of the strength I had gained from the earlier feeding.

You are healing surprisingly well, he then added, Even for one so young.

I am fifty this year, I corrected, but he was right. I was still young compared to many. Indeed I could only guess at his age. His sedu soul felt strong and near, but his actual age could have been anything of course. My own mother had seen at least two centuries, not that she was ever eager to disclose her date of birth, and yet she could easily have been my sister.

The physician backed away, looking more pleased than I would have expected for such an undemanding profession. There was seldom need of any intervention, and nothing someone like himself could hope to achieve after the attack of Anna. Certainly there were times when serious injury would require fibronelli stimulation or reinforcement, perhaps he might even need to resort to primitive surgery to reattach a severed limb temporarily while the symbiotic creatures within us went about their work, but that was it. There had been a number of such incidents at the tournament, of course, which was all too common during the open competitions where a heavier slicing blade was used, something unheard of with the foils of the limited competitions.

Not that I could consider my own pursuit of knowledge to be anything to be overly proud of. I spoke 32 languages fluently, and that covered the majority of spoken tongue across the surface of the planet. It was true that a large majority spoke several of these, mostly English and French, Germanic and Spanish – at least across most of the European and American provinces. The majority of North America was French speaking, of course, New France, Louisiana, being the largest province by far. In the east was English speaking British America, in the west the Spanish territories. South America was largely Spanish speaking as well.

So I taught and learned such speech, had done so for far too many years. I knew it was time to expand, to further my knowledge, but in what area that would be was as much a mystery to me as ever. I was only sure I would never pursue a medical field, not unless it dealt with livestock or other animal life.

As the physician again departed and the nurse completed her inadequate cleaning of my abdomen and back, the local administrator spoke again. You should clean up and dress, he said more quietly than he had spoken before. The investigator will be here soon, and a decan of the New Orleans University is also en route.

I glanced down across my naked form and smiled. It was warm inside the facility, yet I still felt something of a chill after the events of the day. I knew I should have felt more, knew I had lost so much, and yet it seemed that all emotion had been drawn within a void and replaced by an unknown fire. Part of that was anger, a deep fury that was unfamiliar to me. I knew the emotion, but it was not one I had felt in the past aside from brief glimpses as a juvenile.

Standing was easy and I felt as complete as I could hope. There was discomfort within my chest, but nothing I could really call pain, and I looked to the man with me, soon the only other person in the room as the nurse left us with her collection of bloodied cotton. It was only then he collected my bag that sat aside that of Anna's and directed me to their washrooms and left me alone there. I again noticed that there were no signs of either of our swords, and I wondered how much that had to do with the accident. There was an investigator involved, at least, and senior members of emergency services were rare and seldom involved in even an accident. Not that this was anything of the sort. I suspected this investigator would not be a local of Boston, more likely travelled from New York itself. But then this was hardly anything ordinary. If those who had attacked us were really human then it was likely we faced the greatest threat those of the blood had seen for over 250 years.

As I looked over the facilities in the washrooms I could only wonder what corner of the planet the humans had come from, and how they had remained undetected. For those who followed the old theology it was impossible. The end of days had come, the cleansing complete, the souls of all humanity returned to their heaven to be with their god. That included many millions who were not even of the Judaic faiths, which made such a thing unlikely when viewed with the light of true understanding. Those who held only to knowledge had other theories, and I was one who tended more to accept their ways – now more that ever.

If humans still existed then the cleansing was not complete and those who remained were likely unwilling to returned to their god and allow their mortal bodies to accept a sedu soul. Rather they would fight, as I had seen them do, fight as the warriors and killers they had always been. Killers even of their own people. I knew those of the blood were not without fault, that the necessities of our biology had made us killers of humans at times in the darkest of our history, yet I knew also that many thousands, perhaps even millions more humans had fallen at the hand of their own people, their own humanity.

I shrugged off the thought. It was too much to contemplate at such a time. There were things I had to do and face, and even the simplest appeared would be a struggle. There was no bath in the room, not even something fit for a single entity, and I could see I would need to resort to using the basin and cloth in an attempt to make myself even partially presentable. I touched a contact briefly and watched the basin fill steadily from beneath the rim, felt the warmth of the clear waters. There was then a lavender scented soap that struggled to remove the drying human blood across my face and neck and chest, the fine white cotton cloth offering little assistance.

As I washed I looked toward the mirrored wall, noting that my dark hair hung like oily snakes, parts of it matted in blood. It was something that would not clean easily with what I had available. Indeed it almost seemed that the black eyes staring out toward me belonged to a figure unknown, certainly not one born of a ruling family, albeit extended family little known to the masses. I doubted if any of the million who populated Paris even knew my name, although there would certainly some who would know my mother well enough.

In the end it took the majority of an hour to clean myself.

I cared little. The investigator could wait.

Everything could wait.

Chapter 2

When I emerged with my bag I was dressed in the same soiled clothing I had worn to the tournament the previous night, but I was far too tired to care. Outside I knew it was well and truly daylight and all I could think of was sleep. I knew that would not be easy without Anna at my side, and we had seldom been apart for the last few years. All I could do was hope her sedu soul was at peace within us all, spread across all those of the blood, giving strength to all and feeling our love in return.

That was one belief I would hold