aSG: Chalandra Harkness: The Bloodchip Matrix #3

[Gary W. Olson]

                         CHALANDRA HARKNESS:
                        THE BLOODCHIP MATRIX
                 (a tale from altiverse 998SUPERGUY)
                              Episode 3
                           "The Crossing"
                                 by
                            Gary W. Olson

                                 +++

     Chalandra took a sharp, deep breath, deliberately remaining calm
as the leader of the group of vampboys who had surrounded herself and
Percy McFae attacked.  For a mortal, he was quick, she noted.  Most
likely, his reflexes were augmented with kinetic boosters, or a drug
to alter temporal perception.
     She grabbed him by the throat and slammed him down to the
unyielding pavement.  A second vampboy, younger looking than the
leader, swung a glistening blade towards her momentarily unguarded
back.  She dropped below his swing and shot her leg out, impacting his
knee and forcing it back, his foot unable to slide back in the
position it was in.  The clattering of the blade on the asphalt came
simultaneously with his screams.
     McFae, she saw, was not standing idly.  He parried the slashing
claws of one attacker with his briefcase, then delivered a powerful
blow to the chin with his elbow.  Another vampboy, this one older,
with a blond streak slicing through his spiky black hair, grabbed
McFae from behind and tried to bite his neck.  Somehow, McFae shrugged
off his grasp and slammed his open palm, hard, into the boy's stomach.
Blood trickled from the spot where he had struck, and Chalandra
thought she saw something cold and metallic in his grasp.
     The last two vampboys hesitated, watching their comrades fall.
Chalandra looked at one with vengeance gleaming in her eye.  The boy's
eyes widened, and he fled.  The other one helped up the one with the
broken leg, carrying him despite his protests.
     She turned to McFae, finding that his attackers had similarly
fled.  He straightened his collar and picked up his briefcase.  It
occurred to Chalandra that, even while fighting, McFae's expression
never changed from its practiced blandness.
     "Hardly safe to walk at night, is it?" he asked, pausing to look
down at the leader of the attackers, who was staring back up, still
disoriented from the impact, too numb to feel fear.  "Let's go.  Our
plane is waiting.  We're lucky no one saw this."
     "Wait," Chalandra instructed.  She grabbed the vampboy by the
collar and hefted him up.  Her other arm reached around him and slid
through his short, black hair on the back of his neck, grabbing a hold
and pulling his head back.  He tried to scream, but her fangs were
already in him, opening up a blood vessel in the neck.  The teeth dug
deep, and she tilted her jaw, using the teeth like crowbars to open
the wound, to draw the hot, living blood out.
     McFae waited patiently.
     She withdrew her fangs, and the stretched holes rebounded,
closing off some of the flow from the vessel.  The vampboy dropped to
the pavement, eyes shut tightly, his body still trembling with the
rapture that had filled him.
     "Let's go," Chalandra said, curtly, to McFae.  They walked
towards the main terminal of SFX, leaving the boy where he lay.

                                 +++

     Moonlight glistened on the ocean water, so far below them.
Chalandra watched the glow, not drinking from the glass of red wine
she toyed with in her hands.  Above, a thin red haze drifted,
preventing the moon from casting its full brilliance.
     "I did bring a sac of blood, in case you felt peckish on the way
over," McFae said, quietly.  "It was hardly necessary to feed on the
poor boy."
     Chalandra blinked, and turned to McFae, who was seated next to
her.  The night flight to Tokyo was sparsely populated, and it was
clear that McFae felt they could talk.
     "I didn't open his artery," she said.  "If I had intended to feed
on him, I would have."
     "Which would have killed him," McFae answered.  "And given us a
body to answer for when we reached Tokyo.  As it is, most will simply
believe he was attacked by a fellow, in a dispute over leadership or
some such."
     "It was no accident that we were attacked," she told him.
     He turned.  "Please explain."
     "His blood carried no traces of recent chemical ingestion,"
Chalandra answered.  "No hallucinogens, no preceptory boosters, no
brainjack...not even alcohol."
     "Your point?"
     "He wasn't a vampboy, and I'll bet his companions weren't,
either.  They were clean as a whistle, and that's something vampboys
never are, unless they're dead.  If then."
     McFae considered her words.  "Then it was a deliberate attack."
     "No one saw the attack because no one was supposed to," Chalandra
said.  "Care to guess who is probably behind it?  First two guesses
don't count."
     "Don't have to guess," McFae said.  "It has Fekesh written all
over it."
     "Which means he knows about me," Chalandra said.
     "He is a very talented man," McFae responded.  "Cunning, and
resourceful.  The Yakuza want his blood.  So does Red Sky.  So long as
he has the Bloodchip, we'll have to deal with him.  If we can find
him."
     Chalandra turned to look out the window again, at the ocean far
below.  Percy watched her as she looked, his eyes unreadable.
     "How were you able to tell so much about his blood?" he asked,
finally.  "And why did you risk the chance that his blood might be
chemically enhanced?"
     She was silent, staring at the water.
     "Ms. Harkness...?"
     "I had a teacher," she said, in a quiet voice.  "He turned
everything I understood about being a vampire upside down.  He taught
me about magic.  Not the kind where you wave your hands and mutter
fantastic words, but body magic.  The complete awareness of the most
minute details."
     "Is he in Tokyo?" McFae inquired, matching her low tone.
     "He's the reason I ran away."
     The hum of the aircraft was the only sound for several minutes.
     "He told me something about the water, once," Chalandra said.
     "Which is...?"
     "It used to be a boundary, which our kind could only cross with
the greatest of effort," Chalandra went on.  "I know.  I used to have
nightmares about it.  Over the centuries, however, its effects have
virtually disappeared.  He told me that the reasons for this were
twofold.  The first was that the boundary had force because the
mortals willed it so, through fear, and a desire for order.  Their
minds constructed their reality, and ours, as well.  Natural magic,
blindly at work.
     "Now, though, the boundaries are paper thin, and porous.  Many
have already crumbled.  The old magic is being transformed, reshaped."
     "In cyberspace, there are no boundaries," McFae said.  "The
computer chip has eroded the power of the old governments, and the
boundaries of nations.  The rule of law is being replaced by the rule
of the chip."
     Chalandra was about to speak, when she cast her eyes up, at a
curious shape, distant, barely visible in the haze.  She gasped, when
she realized what it was.
     "The Red Fortress..." she whispered.
     "Oh, that," McFae said.  "Should have warned you.  Temekhan
ordered its path shifted to this range of latitude, as he'll be in
Tokyo for the next few days."
     Chalandra stared out the window, at the distant shape.  It was
black, and she could make out very little detail.  But she, and most
everyone else, knew what it was.
     It's official designation was Red Sky Headquarters, the
constantly airborne vessel that served as the center for Red Sky.  It
was the size of a small mountain, and circled the Earth daily, its
path allowing for rapid transport and coordination of the worldwide
interests of Red Sky.  There was nothing else like it in the air, and
the sight of it was enough to make Chalandra shiver.
     No pictures of it were ever circulated, and Red Sky's influence
was strong enough to keep most mention of it out of the popular press.
It was frequently referred to as 'the Red Fortress,' because of its
foreboding look, and the mystery that was associated with it.  Outside
of Red Sky, no one had seen what lay inside.
     Chalandra looked down at the water, forcing her eyes to look away
from it.
     "You were saying..."
     "What...?" Chalandra asked.
     "The second reason," McFae prompted.
     "Ah," Chalandra said, looking down at the water.  "He told me
that the mortals, by poisoning their water with pollutants, by
destroying the life within, had changed its essence.  I never quite
understood that part."
     "Change the water, and that which applies to it must change as
well," McFae said.  "Change the item something is applied to, and the
application must itself be altered."  He paused.  "You would do well
to remember that."
     The hum of the plane quietly seeped into Chalandra's ears, as the
Red Fortress slipped behind a thick red haze and was lost from sight.

                                 +++

     She had forgotten how immense the city really was.
     San Francisco, for all its technosprawl, had always felt open to
Chalandra.  The steep hills and the wide sweep of the bay spoke of
open space, room to breathe, despite the millions all around.  Unlike
Tokyo, it did not overpower the senses.
     From where she stood, just outside the terminal doors, she could
see the immense towers of the Shodani Group, looming over the old
corporate buildings from the previous century like an avenging angel.
Other buildings ranged around it, radiating from the center, the whole
of it blazing with neon light, summer heat, and endless sound.
     Already, she could feel the familiar pulse, like she had never
left, never taken her teeth from the neck of the city.  The scent of
raw fish from a nearby vendor carried with it whispers of order and
chaos, of life and death, and the balance that held it together.
     Balance was key, here.  In Tokyo, one either learned to balance,
or left.  If one could do neither, one would die.  She remembered the
day she had lost her balance, how she had fallen from the tightrope
she had walked.  She left Tokyo that day, knowing she would have to
return.
     "Ah, there, our car," McFae said, pointing out a dark tinted
limousine on the curb.  It was the only vehicle in view - most in the
city could not afford one.  Not that there was any real need for one,
in this city.
     Their plane had gotten to Tokyo ahead of schedule.  Chalandra
estimated that they had one and a half hours to meet with Temekhan
before sunrise.  The city streaked by her window, but Chalandra
ignored it.  She could feel it around her, closing like a velvet
glove.  The sights were secondary.
     McFae did not say a single word during the trip, but he, too,
seemed to undergo a subtle change.  He seemed a fraction less tense,
as though his work was nearly done.
     The limousine stopped in front of a large building, which seemed
small, as the Shodani's building loomed almost directly over it.  The
words, 'Red Sky', in English, lit up the sign, hundreds of stories
above.  Guards saluted when they saw McFae, and immediately stepped
aside to allow him and Chalandra through.  Within moments, they were
in an elevator, riding upwards.
     "Mr. Temekhan may not have a lot of time for questions this
evening," McFae said.  "He may wish for you to return tomorrow
evening."  Chalandra shrugged, and considered the cigars tucked inside
her jacket, silently.
     The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open.  Chalandra stepped
out, followed by McFae, and looked about in wonder.  Vegetation
abounded in the room, as suspended grow lights hummed.  The air was
thick and wet, and she turned her head, looking at the flowers that
grew from the vegetation.
     Every single one was electric blue.
     "Greetings, Ms. Harkness," a deep, gravelly voice sounded.
Chalandra looked at the man who emerged from behind a row of blue
flowers.  He was tall - nearly seven foot, and carried himself with an
air of quiet, dignified strength.  His wide green eyes pierced her,
sending small chills down her neck.   There was something primal about
him, that no amount of refinement could quite disguise.  She could see
it in his smile - the smile of a born predator, stalking prey.  She
knew the look well - it was her own.
     He stood before her now, appraising her, silently.  McFae stepped
a few feet away, seeming to melt into the background.
     "I am Vedrik Temekhan," he said, bowing.  "I bid you welcome."

(to be continued...)
--
Copyright (c) 1993-2010 by Gary W. Olson.  All Rights Reserved.
--
Gary W. Olson
swede at novitious dot com
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