In the Blood (17 page)

‘Oh, goodie,’ said Uncle Bertie. ‘Really rude questions? I do like really rude questions.’

‘Not really,’ I said. I settled back against the dikdik. ‘We’re looking for…well, you’d have to call it a vampire modification. A modification that drinks blood.’

Uncle Bertie didn’t giggle. He pouted instead. ‘Well, I can’t help you,’ he said sulkily.

‘Why not?’

‘Because they took the records years and years ago. Well, maybe one or two years I think. “Of course you can look through the records,” I said. They’re hard, disced, not Netted. It’s not the sort of thing you Net now, is it? But then they took them all. Naughty!’ said Uncle Bertie, with what seemed like genuine anger.

I shook my head. ‘I don’t understand. What records?’

‘
His
records,’ said Uncle Bertie. ‘Doctor Noname. The man who made me.’ It was a very little giggle this time. ‘Make him a child forever, that’s what Lord Montague told him, though he wasn’t really a lord I suppose, but then, he had the castle and all of us in it, so that does make him a lord, doesn’t it?

‘So Doctor Noname made me just like I am now, and I’ll never grow old, never ever ever, though it has meant I can’t eat either, and in the last few years I’ve had to stay in this chair, but it doesn’t matter, really it doesn’t matter, because I can be anywhere, can’t I? After all, what’s real?’

‘Doctor Noname made Banana too?’ asked Neil softly.

‘Yes,’ said Bertie, smiling at us sweetly. ‘He made Banana and Lemon Tree, but Lemon Tree died, oh, years ago now, and he made Swifter and Big Veronica and…’

‘Did he make any vampires?’ Neil demanded.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Uncle Bertie. ‘But they weren’t very good. Not as good as my vampires, even if his
were
real. They scared you, didn’t they?’ He gave his giggle again.

‘What do you mean, they weren’t very good?’

Uncle Bertie shrugged. ‘I don’t know. That’s what Lord Montague said. He said, “His bloody vampires were no good.” It was before my time, you see. By the time he’d made me, the vampires were gone.’

‘Where did they go?’

Bertie shrugged again, uninterested. ‘Away. Are you ready for a game now? It’ll be a nice game. Uncle Bertie can give you such nice things.’

‘No! What happened to the doctor? And Lord Montague?’

‘Big Veronica killed the doctor.’ Bertie giggled gleefully. ‘That was fun. Veronica was really big you see,
and one night she hid behind the door and grabbed the doctor then she—’

‘What about Lord Montague?’ I interrupted.

‘Oh, he just died,’ said Bertie airily. ‘There was no one to give him regeneration then, you see. After that it was just me and the others. But it didn’t matter ‘cause I knew his comsig for his credit line and people still came for the parties. People had heard about us you see, about Lord Montague’s parties. They were my parties then. Uncle Bertie’s parties, that’s what I said they had to call them. But then the others died, even Veronica, even though she was so big, and now there’s just me and Banana and hardly anyone ever comes here any more.’

‘Except the people who stole your records?’

Bertie pouted. ‘She wasn’t a nice girl. She was bad. Tell me about the vampires, she said. She liked the vampires in my parties. She played with them for months and months and I could watch and watch. But they’re not real, she said one day. I want a vampire who is real.

‘My vampires are real, I told her.’ Bertie fluttered his eyelashes at Neil. ‘They were just like real, weren’t they?’

‘Yes,’ said Neil.

‘Well, you see? I told her so. You can’t have any realer than that. I told her over and over. My real is better than outside real. But she said the feedback was getting less and less, because she couldn’t believe in my vampires any more. She kept on and on. She was a naughty girl. So finally I said, you look at the records. And then they took them.’

‘They?’ I asked.

‘The girl and the boy. The boy liked my games too. I showed him lots and lots of games but there was only
one he really, really liked. He would be the vampire and she would be the victim. But she was right. It just didn’t work so well after a while.’

‘What were their names?’ asked Neil softly.

Uncle Bertie’s pale brow wrinkled, making him suddenly look older even than his years. ‘Let me see,’ he said. ‘The boy was…I know, his name was Tam. And the girl was Doris.’

S
ometimes a moment stretches forever. It was like that on the Net sometimes, or when Linked together with the Forest. So much in such a small amount of time that time faded, as though its contents had stretched its boundaries too far.

It was like that now.

Doris. Vampires. Tam.

‘The boy down at Nearer To Heaven was called Tam,’ I whispered.

‘It could be another one,’ said Neil.

‘It’s not a common name. Or it’s not in the City. What about the Outlands?’

Neil shook his head. ‘I haven’t heard it before. But for all I know, a dozen communities might call every third kid Tam.’

‘Vampires,’ I said. ‘They were obsessed with vampires.’

Bertie gave his furious giggle. ‘Vampires are fun!’ he cried. ‘Would you like a vampire now? Fun vampires, not the nasty ones before. These vampires kiss you as they suck.’

‘No,’ said Neil. ‘Where did they go after they left here?’

‘Or
you
could be a vampire instead,’ said Uncle Bertie cajolingly. ‘Uncle Bertie is sorry for being bad before. You’ll see how nice he can be now.’

‘For Christ’s sake,’ yelled Neil. ‘Where did they go?’

Bertie wrinkled his freckled nose. ‘They just left,’ he said petulantly. ‘After all my parties, they just left one night. I sent Banana after them when the alarm by the door went off. But they got away,’ he added sadly.

‘They didn’t mention any place they might have gone?’

‘No,’ said Uncle Bertie. ‘They were bad, bad people. They weren’t nice at all to Uncle Bertie.’

I looked at Neil. ‘So,’ he said softly. ‘They might have gone anywhere.’

‘But we know where Tam is now. If it’s the right Tam.’

‘And we know what happened to Doris,’ began Neil, when Uncle Bertie interrupted.

‘There!’ he exclaimed. ‘I’ve answered your questions. I’ve been a good boy, haven’t I? Now it’s time to play for Uncle Bertie.’

The red sand vanished and the balloon blue sky. In their place was a dim arched marble ceiling and tall columns, and a hundred naked bodies, oiled and sweaty. Gladiator fought with gladiator, though I couldn’t hear the clang of their swords; athletes leapt and tumbled. I glanced at Neil. Whatever bastard had programmed this one would surely have programmed pheromone enhancers too, and I bet sweet Uncle Bertie would have them on ‘high’…

Neil’s forehead was damp with sweat, but he met my eyes. Another nod and we were running for the door.

‘No!’ shrieked Uncle Bertie.

It was hard not to weave and dodge the gladiators, to accept they weren’t real and run through them, to not keep deviating, circling and jumping. But after the fourth pair of swordsmen and third discus thrower it was easier, and by the time we’d reached the stairs the figures had thinned…

The stairs vanished. In their place was blackness, a horrible featureless fall into space.

Neil hesitated for only a second. I grabbed his hand as my feet felt stair after stair.

There was the sound of running feet behind us now, a rhythmic beat. Banana, come to fetch us back.

I resisted the impulse to try to go faster. Too fast, and one of us might fall.

Plunk plunk plunk went the ModPlod’s feet behind us. He had to be as hampered as we were by the darkness. Suddenly Neil’s hand in mine stiffened.

‘Neil! What is it?’

‘I don’t know!’ His voice was still and forced. ‘I feel…there’s something terrible…’

‘Double shit! He’s tapping into you. Terror instead of sex, that’s all!’

‘That’s all!’ Neil tried to laugh.

My feet touched the flat ground. Thank God the stairs were behind us. I shut my eyes to think which way now—a needless exercise you might think, in the thick black that surrounded us, but somehow the mind works better when the eyes are shut.

Years of programming in Virtual came to my aid. My mind could see the space, even though my eyes could not.

‘This way,’ I said firmly. ‘Run for twenty paces then turn left.’

Neil didn’t answer, but his hand stayed in mine.

Eighteen nineteen twenty, swerve…

Suddenly there was daylight, a fresh gleam in front of us. Even Uncle Bertie couldn’t program away the day, not with my mind shielded at any rate.

I ran towards it, Neil’s breath heaving at my side.

The footsteps were closer now.

Suddenly we were out of the castle and crossing the drawbridge, the blessed fresh air around us, the wonderful heat of daylight touching our skins.

Suddenly Neil stiffened again. He cried out, though the cry was choked, and grabbed his head. His face held pain, and nothing else.

I tried to pull him along. For two seconds, perhaps, nothing happened, and then he began to stagger as I pulled. I looked back at the doorway just as Banana lurched into the light.

I’d hoped that Bertie’s gadgetry only worked in the confines of the castle. But evidently its range extended at least a short way beyond. The ModPlod blinked in the light, saw us and plodded on.

‘No, please…’ I don’t know who I was pleading with—myself or Neil or Bertie or the ModPlod or simple fate. The ModPlod reached towards us. Then suddenly its eyes met mine.

It stopped. There was no expression on its face. But in its eyes…

I was imagining it. I had to be imagining it. But at least Banana had stopped his relentless surge towards us. At least we had a chance.

Another five steps…ten…fifteen. I jerked the floater door open and shoved Neil inside, pushed the control for automatic rise, jabbed at random coordinates.

The ModPlod was moving again now, gaining speed as he lumbered towards us. But he would never reach us now, and he knew it.

Definitely he knew it.

I wondered if this was how Tam and Doris had escaped as well.

I raised my hand to the ModPlod as he gazed up at us. He didn’t respond. Of course he didn’t respond. The moment of humanity was hidden, as though it had never been. Then the floater crossed the river and he was gone.

Neil groaned on the floor and dragged himself up to the seat beside me. ‘Are we safe?’ he muttered.

‘We’re safe,’ I said.

W
e need to go home.’

Neil stopped looking out the window and looked at me instead. ‘Home?’ he asked.

‘Faith Hope and Charity. You need…’ I hesitated. I didn’t know what he needed. He looked awful: eyes sunken, face smudged and pale.

‘I suppose,’ said Neil vaguely. He looked back out the window towards where the castle had been. ‘Did I imagine it or did the ModPlod…?’

I nodded. ‘He stopped to let us get away.’

‘I wonder what Uncle Bertie will do to him.’

‘Nothing. I hope.’ I tried to convince myself. ‘Bertie probably thinks the Linkage broke down temporarily, and Banana didn’t know what to do till it came on again. Maybe it did happen like that.’

‘You don’t believe that?’

‘No.’

Even the grey peak of the castle had disappeared now. ‘I wish…’ said Neil, then stopped.

‘That we could rescue him? How? Besides ModPlods aren’t sentients. They’re owned.’

‘Makes no difference,’ said Neil.

I lifted an eyebrow.

‘You’re in the Outlands now. City laws don’t apply remember, unless the City can be bothered. Communities take care of their own.’

‘But even if you could get Banana back to Faith Hope
and Charity, you wouldn’t have his transmission sig,’ I argued. ‘He’d starve without someone to order him to eat.’

‘Don’t you believe it,’ said Neil. His voice was stronger now. ‘A ModPlod will eat if it’s hungry enough, and the next time it’ll eat even sooner. There was an old one when I was growing up—one of the first prototypes. Theo got him eating and even able to change his clothes and clean himself. He used to follow us out to work most days. He used to sit and watch the birds too.’

‘I thought they didn’t feel at all,’ I said.

‘City myth,’ said Neil. ‘I suppose if your mind is constantly bombarded with transmissions, it’s hard to learn to feel. Or think or do things for yourself. But they can do it, after a while.’

The floater continued in silence over the grass and cowpats. ‘Theo’s a good man,’ I said at last.

Neil nodded. ‘We’ll get Banana out of there. Best wait for a month or so, till Bertie’s forgotten about us.’

‘Is that how the other ModPlod got to Faith Hope and Charity? You rescued it?’

‘Don’t know,’ said Neil. ‘I never asked.’

He sounded infinitely tired. I pressed the control for soup, and waited till it spurted out; it smelt of concentrates but was hot at least. ‘Drink this,’ I ordered, ‘then try to sleep for a while.’

‘All right,’ said Neil.

I bit my lip. I wondered if he had been hurt more than I realised; and if he were in shock, what should I do? Suddenly he seemed very far away.

Neil sipped at the soup, then put the cup down and closed his eyes. I watched the grass float below us, then suddenly remembered I’d programmed the machine at random. Who knew where we were headed? I reset it on
manual, then leant back against the seat and watched Neil and the flickering trees and tried to work it out.

‘There are two possibilities,’ said Neil suddenly.

I started. His eyes were still closed.

‘What possibilities?’ I asked.

Neil opened his eyes. ‘Either they kept on trying to play their games without Bertie’s Realities to help them and Tam killed Doris. Or else Doris finally found her real vampire. Who killed her.’

‘Then why didn’t Tam say something?’

‘There’s no reason to think he was still with her. She wanted the real thing, remember?’

‘So Doris may have been living with her vampire for years. Or had just found him.’

‘Him? Why not her?’

‘Doris said “he”. “He sucked my blood,” she said. I suppose she thought she was getting a play vampire like the ones at the castle, and then found out it was real.’

‘I wouldn’t exactly call the castle vampires “play”,’ said Neil dryly. ‘I have a feeling we need to rethink our idea of sweet little Doris.’

‘I know.’ I was silent for a moment. ‘She seemed so young and helpless when I found her.’

‘She was young and she was helpless,’ said Neil. ‘Then, at least.’

I nodded. My mind felt empty. It was too much effort to think, or even to feel. I’d think again tomorrow, after I’d slept.

Alone. I’d be sleeping alone tonight. Unless…

‘Neil.’ I said suddenly.

Neil blinked and waved me into silence. His face had the intent look of someone who is transmitting. Then he said, ‘I’ll put you on the Terminal. Hold on a second.’
The floater Terminal buzzed slightly, then Michael’s voice said, ‘Danny? Can you hear me?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I can hear you.’

‘I hate these things,’ grumbled Michael’s voice. ‘You can never tell if someone’s listening or not. No bloody feedback. Look, where are you? I tried to call Faith Hope and Charity but they said you weren’t at the house.’

‘No, I’m not,’ I said.

‘Why the hell not?’

‘Because I wanted to find Doris’s killer,’ I said quietly. ‘I told you I did.’

There was silence from the Terminal. Then Michael said, ‘I told you we’d look into it.’

No you didn’t, I thought. That wasn’t what you said at all. But I said nothing.

‘It’s about her death I’m calling,’ said Michael. He hesitated, as though that wasn’t quite the reason, as though perhaps he didn’t quite know the reason himself. ‘There’s been another death.’

‘You mean like Doris’s?’

‘Yes.’ Another hesitation. ‘Not quite like what you described, but near enough.’

‘What happened?’

‘It was on a community up the coast. Yarrapilly it’s called. Prawners, edible seaweed, that sort of stuff. The young man responsible had been there for about two days. Quiet, not particularly noticeable by all accounts. He seemed quite normal while there were other people around. Then he and another girl, another wanderer, went out to check the crab traps.’

‘Go on,’ I said.

‘They found him kneeling over her body,’ said Michael expressionlessly. ‘She was covered in blood and
so was he. He announced he was a vampire. He laughed at them.’

‘Then what?’

‘They took him back to the main house. They locked him up. They didn’t tell me what they planned to do with him. I didn’t ask. These places look after their own.’ There was faint distaste in the words, as though Outlander justice was not quite acceptable to people of good taste. ‘But he escaped.’

‘When was all this?’ asked Neil suddenly.

‘Five days ago.’

‘Why the hell didn’t they report this before?’

‘They were looking for him, they said. I suppose they just didn’t want the City involved before they had to. Or interfering when they caught him. I’ve put a warning out on the Outland Net now.’

‘Michael,’ I said urgently. ‘What was this person’s name?’

‘Didn’t I tell you? His name was Tam,’ said Michael.