Wake snapped back to the physical world. “Are you also aware of his talent?”
Marco paused for a moment, puzzled. “Are you talking about his sculpting? I’ve seen some of it. It’s not bad, if you like that sort of thing.”
Wake smiled, a small thing that refused to reach his eyes. “No, I was speaking of his magical talent.”
“He’s got no magic.”
“In that you are mistaken, I’m afraid. In the astral, his ability is obvious.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
Wake laughed. “You already are.”
The two vampires at Marco’s back joined in the laughter until Marco’s glance silenced them.
Marco turned back to Wake. “Your attempts at humor are on the verge of being offensive.”
Wake looked into Marco’s eyes, as though measuring him somehow. “Is it still your wish that the process be performed?”
“Of course.”
“Even though you know the the procedure affects magically active creatures in different ways?”
Marco shook his head. “You don’t understand. This is my last chance to keep my legacy within the family.”
Wake looked at the body of Warren, who was beginning to stir. He paused for a moment, as if making a decision. Then he nodded. “Dr. Pakow, ready room number three. Put this young man on a saline IV with Syndorphin infusion, and prepare the vat. We have quite a bit of work ahead of us.”
Pakow nodded, and stepped up to a wall-mounted telecom next to the bay doors Team alpha, report to bay six, priority red.”
Marco grinned at Wake. “Make sure he comes through this and I’ll triple the monies I’ve been funneling to you. If he dies, I’ll cut you off at the knees.”
Wake simply smiled.
A new voice sounded on the loading bay, one groggy and unsure of itself. “Uncle Marco, is that you?”
Wake moved before anyone else. Pulling a patch from his coat, he knelt by the struggling form. “Rest now. You’ve had an accident, but we’re going to take good care of you.”
Wake slipped the patch over Warren’s jugular, and Marco watched him drift immediately back into oblivion.
6
At its highest levels, Ordo Maximus is the tool of a secret cabal of a: least half a dozen vampires-perhaps more-all skilled initiates who use the Ordo’s funds and political connections to conduct biomagical research well hidden from the public eye. Their goal is simple and terrifying; they seek to create variant strains of HMHVV, new viruses that will confer the strengths and weaknesses of vampirism at the Ordo’s sole discretion.
–
Martin de Vries, Shadows at Noon, posted to Shadowland BBS, 24 May 2057
The following morning, seagulls swirled in an azure sky over Marco’s mansion in Magnolia Bluff, some four kilometers from the heart of downtown Seattle. The area was favored by the sprawl’s elite and wealthy, including those who earned their nuyen on both sides of the law. The mansion was surrounded by a three-meter stone fence topped with wrought iron spikes, track-mounted Ares security drones, and trid cameras. This served to deter all but the most well-equipped burglars from even thinking about attempting a break-in.
The mansion grounds were spacious and well-landscaped in Italian-garden style, with roses and olive trees and fountains shaped into the forms of Roman deities. Today, the sun glimmered off the moving water, though Marco, groggy and just awakened from his daily slumber by an irate Julius, could not see it.
The two men were in Marco’s inner office. High ceiling fans provided the only movement of air in the completely enclosed room. Even though Marco could now sustain the touch of sunlight, on days like today, with the light so blazing and clear, he would still be severely burned.
Marco shook his head. He hadn’t anticipated Julius learning of Warren’s disappearance so soon.
“And I’m telling you he’s gone!” Julius’ voice was like a diamond saw cutting through stone. “Warren’s been taken by someone who knew our release codes.” Julius turned and paced across the Persian rug.
Marco knew he had to handle this with extreme care. “Maybe he simply went to one of his art shows.” He made sure to add just the hint of derision that Julius would expect.
Julius shook his head impatiently. “Impossible. When I tried to get in touch with him this morning. I got no answer. So I checked the guard logs, which showed he was left unattended from just before midnight last night. I went over there personally, and his front door was wide open. There was no sign of forced entry and no sign of a struggle, but Warren is gone. He would’ve told me if he was planning to leave Seattle.”
“And who do you think did this?”
Julius stopped pacing and turned to face his brother. “I’ve been warning you for months that something like this was bound to happen. Our contract with Don Bigio makes us a target. The yaks, the Seoulpa, it could be anyone. But whoever it was, it looks like they took a page from Derek’s killers and decided to get to us through Warren.”
Marco suppressed a smile. This anger on his brother’s part would serve his purposes nicely. “First off, we have contracts with a number of Mafia families as well as with the yaks. None has ever considered it a conflict of interests, and I don’t see why they would start now. Also, if you say there was no sign of forced entry, then it’s nothing like what happened to Derek. In case you’ve forgotten, Derek’s car was completely shredded. If Warren has been kidnapped, then he must not have put up a fight. Therefore, it might be something you haven’t considered, though I don’t think you are too far wrong.”
Julius’ face grew still, and in a soft voice he said, “You’re keeping secrets from me.”
Marco nodded. “I’m sorry, brother. Derek’s death seemed like a personal attack, and it pained me so much, I didn’t want to share what I’ve learned. However, in light of Warren’s disappearance, there’s something I’ve got to show you.”
Marco crossed the room, his nearly useless legs dragging on the floor as his will carried his misshapen body. Sitting down heavily in the overstuffed chair behind his desk, he pulled the trid recording from the center desk drawer. “Have a look at this.”
Julius’ face became even more still. “What is it?” His voice was little more than a whisper, the soft buffeting of a breeze through fallen leaves.
“It’s from the man who killed Derek.”
As if reaching for a live scorpion, Julius took the chip over to a tall bookshelf. He put his race to the hidden retinal scanner that had been placed in an ancient hardcover of Moby Dick. Then he stepped back, and the book case recessed and slid down into the floor, revealing a security console and a large trideo rig.
Marco slotted the chip and stood there as Martin de Vries came into view. Julius watched the whole thing without making a sound. When the monitor faded to black, he turned back to Marco.
Julius was nearly shaking with anger. “This explains a few things, like the unusual distribution of our Sec forces for the last couple of weeks. You shouldn’t have kept this from me.”
Marco forced himself to seem contrite. Bowing his head, he said, “You’re right, brother. It was short-sighted of me to think that this de Vries was through, that he would only come after me.”
“I want him. If he’s taken Warren, he’ll find that we have ways of making even vampires suffer before they die.”
Marco nodded, once again keeping a smile from his lips only by force of will. “Find him. If you can get to him soon enough, Warren might still be alive. Go, use whatever resources you need.”
Julius turned and headed for the door. “I will, brother. I will hunt this Martin de Vries, and if he’s hurt Warren, then I’ll make sure his death is neither clean, nor painless.”