Recruitment

Crumbly showed Vesper his bruised arm.

“Do you see it?” he asked with indignation. “Do you see what that damn medic did to me? She pierced me seven times! Finally I suggested that I’d do it myself. We had, after all, first aid courses, and I’d get in like right away. But she said that procedures don’t allow that, and she tinkered until she got it. And what do I look like now?”

With some difficulty he adjusted himself on the hospital bed. He hissed with pain, his broken ribs brought misery with every move.

Vesper nodded with a smile. A fleeting memory of a previous incarnation appeared before his eyes. That’s what the hospital was like, among other things.

“Come on, a tough guy like you, crying like a baby?” he said calmly. “Listen, they have to practice on someone. Would you prefer they poke a little old lady?”

Crumbly huffed angrily. The pathetic picture of the little old lady didn’t make much of an impression on him. But his mangled arm did.

“Me, the hero!” he whined “With such a thick needle, seven times in a row.”

“Oh, don’t make a scene.” Vesper got up from a wooden stool, walked to the window and looked out. “You will survive,” he added, without turning around.

He stared at the city. Warsaw slept, a hard, tired sleep. Woloska Street was pretty empty, even taxis hid somewhere tonight. The sky was covered in black clouds, and not even a piece of the moon was visible behind them. The rain came down in even, gloomy streams on top of all that.

Ideal time for the renegades. Quite perfect, actually.

Vesper reached his right hand under his jacket, and felt the gun hidden in a holster hanging in a harness on the left side.

“No, man,” Crumbly reacted immediately. “I don’t feel that much resentment for her, leave it.” He smiled lightly

The nighter turned to him.

“If you say so...” he said, forcing a joke. “We’ll give her another chance. Maybe next time she’ll get in after only six attempts, who knows?”

“It’s nice that you care about me so much,” the A-T said. “Actually, it’s very nice that you care about us at all. The guys from the Department camp out here day and night in friendship...” He paused and looked keenly at his colleague.

He said the Department, thought Vesper quickly. Old A-Ts called their job that, when they were the Security Department of the Metropolitan Militia, the anti-violence unit. But that was in seventy-six, when Crumbly was barely born. Then, in the 90s, the militia was renamed the Police, and the Security Department became the Anti-Terrorism Department. In 2003 another name change happened, and it became the Antiterrorist Operations Bureau of the Police Headquarters. Finally, in 2004, the name changed yet again to the Board of Anti-Terrorist Operations. Now they are the Antiterrorist Operations Bureau again. They messed it up so much, that no decent A-T knew what the unit would be called in fifteen minutes. But they didn’t necessarily call it the Department.

So Crumbly, perhaps, didn’t mean his own men. He was asking gently if Vesper and his colleagues were from Five, the former Department of Detention NDC, now called the Department of Anti-Terrorism and Security Implementation ISA. The naming could make one go insane. Anyway, his friend got it just a little wrong... it might be best to let him think what he wanted.

“You know, we still hope that we might be able to learn something from you,” he said, without commenting on the mention of the Department. “How to be professionally ill with dignity, etc...”

Crumbly understood at once, that he wouldn’t get anything out of Vesper, and to not even try. He sighed heavily.

“It’s really moving,” he said a little wearily. “Such cooperation between companies.”

Vesper returned to the stool, and sat on it. He looked significantly at Crumbly.

“You know, we spoiled some plans for some bad guys,” he said gravely. “Maybe they’ll want revenge, who knows.”

The policeman apparently didn’t care too much about this news.

“Main problem there, in ISA, is the smartasses,” he said lightly. “Imagine I thought of it on my own. And you know, I didn’t leave the handle in hospital lockbox, although I was very pressed to do so. I have it with me all the time.”

Both were silent for a moment, looking at each other seriously. Each diligently maintained an impenetrable stone face.

At the same time they turned their heads toward the door when it opened with a slight squeak. Vesper slipped his hand under his jacket, throwing a careful look to the woman in a white coat entering the room. She would be quite pretty if not for the huge, thick glasses that made her look like a walking microscope.

“It's her?” He said, winking knowingly at Crumbly and furtively clenching his fingers on the gun.

“Uh, no,” said the other quickly. “This is the intern, or almost a doctor. Totally fine.” He waved his hand carelessly.

“I see that Nurse Martha took care of you, sir,” the woman said, pointing to his bruised hand. “Changed cannula, good, good...” She looked at him sharply in the eye, clearly asking him not to fuss about these few extra needle pokes. He was, after all, a commando.

Crumbly cleared his throat, then looked at his colleague’s startled eyes. The course of a brief internal struggle was clearly depicted on his face; Vesper could almost see his mind. Whatever Crumbly would say now would make him a wimp. To a colleague, sinning with inconsistency, or to the girls, whining about such a little thing.

“Yeah, I feel better already,” the policeman finally decided. “The new cannula fits me like a glove, thanks.”

Vesper smiled inwardly. It meant Crumbly was quite sensitive to the opinion of the opposite sex... important to remember.

The intern flashed him a thankful look, nodded her head at them both, and left the room.

Vesper stood up and walked to the window.

Again, he stared into the night, still spilling rain over Warsaw. The black cloud layer cut the city off from the light of the moon and stars, plunging them into a gloomy twilight, dark enough even for his sensitive vampire eyes.

The nighter watched the street carefully, intuition still flashing a red alert in his head. The renegades were hiding out there somewhere, and plotting their revenge.

On Crumbly, on Nidor, finally on himself, for the fact that they shredded General Nex when he was almost sure of victory. And on the other A-Ts, laying in the surgery department. That they dared to survive, even though he’d had them kneeling humbly in anticipation of a verdict.

The pride of Lord Aranea probably wasn’t going to let this balance on such a shameful minus. Definitely not.

***

On their way back to the base, the sun was already quite high above the horizon. Rainclouds escaped with the night, and the sky glowed a dazzling blue. Vesper, along with his shift colleagues, smeared every inch of their visible skin, including their faces and hands, with Total Sun Block, cursing and adjusting their sunglasses.

It had been a very difficult night, as everyone clearly sensed the danger lurking behind the windows. They all jumped up every minute or so, ready to repel an attack... that didn’t come. So they waited, startling to alertness, unnecessarily again. And so on, and on again. They were terribly tired, and dreamt only of their beds and fresh blood.

They reached the base, left the cars in the garage, and sped through the woods toward the residential buildings.

On foot, Umens snapped telepathically. I have a young in the courtyard!

They lowered themselves to the ground, bitter. On foot, damn it. All night they had to be careful to hide from the people... and even here at home, they didn’t have a bit of respite.

They entered the courtyard, watching the recruit stealthily.

Who, in their kindness has been sent to join their team?

A tall blond man stood before Umens, sweaty and with a flushed face. He was arguing over something with the captain. It looked like he had deep, expert knowledge on how pushups should be performed, and couldn’t agree with the supervisor’s recommended uncrafty method. The attitude of the opponent showed that he was dangerously close to reaching the limits of his patience.

“If the youngster talks to the lord like that, he will be done for,” Fulgur sighed. “Zero discipline in this man. It would be a pity because we need new nighters. Anyway, we shall see. Maybe the kid can be trained before it’s too late... for him, of course.”

“Have you ever wondered what actually directs Ultor’s decisions?” Vesper asked thoughtfully. “He kills all... but gives his blood to only a few.”

“He said once that it is about the symbiont,” Alacer said. “You have to have the feel for it. Sometimes it doesn’t click, no matter what.”

They reached the house, and welcomed the twilight of the darkened foyer gladly.

Nidor already waited for them, pointing at his watch reproachfully. “You’re in late, guys!” he said, and shook his head disapprovingly.

“Shut up, mommy,” Alacer snapped at him. “We waited until the people got their act together. The Anti-Terrorist were our shift change. I’ll tell you all about it. But let’s eat something first, okay?” He walked in, heading straight to the TV room.

Nidor scratched automatically over the bandages wrapping his face rather tightly. He grimaced, then followed Alacer. The other nighters followed them into the room.

They crowded around the bar, crossing to look at a plastic container with blood bearing large red stamps. Tested. Unpolluted. They began to pour the vital fluid into the glasses, sighing with relief. Finally, they could eat properly. Secretive sipping from a flask in the hospital is definitely not what tigers like best.

Alacer drank a gulp from the contents of his glass, and put it down on the counter with a loud clink.

“We should not leave them alone during the day,” he said loudly. “People couldn’t cope if the renegades got it into their heads to attack right now.

He commanded the team during Nidor’s convalescence period, and it was obvious he felt nearly like a captain. Which was very likely, because Ultor didn’t hide that he planned to give the Polish nighters another position like that, and Alacer was definitely the best candidate.

“We can’t watch them day and night,” Nidor said quietly. “Where will you get so many officers? Take care of blood storage, that’s one; Clam has his hands full. Base; the base is the foundation, so that’s two. And the hospital at night... and there are only fifty of us.”

“Forty-seven,” interrupted Fulgur grimly.

They fell silent, all sharing the same thought.

Daps, Ebur, Falx... Three coffins in Emów’s underground, and one’s you didn’t get out of. It was fortunate that Nidor and Vesper still slept in their beds, at least normally, because there could have been five of those coffins.

“Renegades will not attack during the day,” Nidor broke the silence, and then scratched his bandage-covered cheek with a sudden move. “I can’t stand this, how hopelessly slow it’s healing...” He sighed, shook his head, and then continued. “They suffer in the light as much as we do. This is not a good time to carry out a mission.”

“You know perfectly well that if they wanted to, they would be capable of that effort,” Alacer interrupted sharply. “But you prefer to delude yourself with the unfounded hope, than...”

“Than weaken outposts elsewhere,” Nidor finished calmly.

“Because there are only humans there, and we are here, right?” Alacer didn’t let up. “But we should protect them, that’s why we’re here!”

“Give me a break, man,” the captain finally gave up. “In the end, is it my decision? Call the major’s hotline, tell him to change orders. He’s been sitting at Lord Ultor’s place for three days now, maybe they’ve come up with something.”

“You know, I will!” the nighter jumped up from his spot and left the room.

There was a heavy, oppressive silence.

“Turn on the box,” Vesper said, trying to save the situation. “Let’s see, maybe they’ll show something new.”

Fulgur picked up the remote, and clicked it. The TV brightened, flooding the hall with a bright glow.

“For God's sake, who was watching that?” Nidor winced, squinting instinctively. “That bright?”

“The new kid,” Umens threw from the threshold. “He’s been studying extra at night.”

They nodded with understanding. Sure, the new kid has normal human eyes. To see anything, they must be bombarded with light.

Fulgur pressed the remote control buttons. The screen went dark, then adjusted back to normal levels.

But they saw nothing new. The television stations were still obsessed with the same topic. For nearly the whole week, Polfa Tarchomin was shown on every channel. Images of the buildings swathed with flames against the night sky interspersed with mournful, burned ruins, where countless firefighters, army and police vehicles were stationed. Then the talking heads, who discussed the incident with unflagging excitement. Poland had finally had its first real terrorist attack, and sometimes it was hard to tell if commentators were more proud or worried about it.

“Turn it off!” Nidor sighed in disgust. “My brain hurts from listening to this garbage. Besides, they won’t tell us anything about the renegades.”

“Because we should have our man there!” Fulgur said lively, turning the TV off. “Because we still don’t know anything about them. We can only wait for their move, and it’s...”

“Aranea would expose the agent immediately,” Umens interrupted dryly, sitting down in the chair. “She has the honest speech gift, you know that. If we send her someone, it would be to a certain death. Haven’t you have enough funerals in the Family?”

The door opened with a sudden wave, pushed open very firmly. Alacer entered the room with a very satisfied expression on his face.

“Lord Ultor and the major admitted that protecting people is the primary task of our unit,” he said triumphantly. “We are to delegate five nighters to the hospital. And since Captain Umens is on the day shift, he can check in on them every few hours.”

Umens and Nidor looked at each other. Certainly exchanging notes, which no one could doubt were not flattering toward their overzealous colleague.

“Well, an order’s an order,” Umens muttered while getting up. “Go get some sleep, gents. We’ll have to rotate more often now, so get some rest quickly.”

“Right,” Nidor agreed, getting up from the chair as well. “Go ahead, now.”

Everyone stood up, with particularly displeased expressions. More frequent rotations, more work. Damn that Alacer... but if they had to, then fine.

The door opened, pushed with an impatient hand. Staszek, a man from the recruitment room, ran into the room.

“Captain,” the man said to Umens, with a voice full of tension. “Help! That new guy... the things he does! Who sent him here? It’s some kind of sabotage or a diversion!”

“The kid has a temper,” Umens said with disdain, then turned to look at his colleague.

“Go ahead,” Nidor sighed. I’ll wake them up. Who do you want?

They spoke in their minds for a little longer, and Umens left the room with a brisk step. Nidor started toward the other door leading toward the sleeping quarters.

“Am I still seeing you here?” Nidor asked, seeing the other nighters still gathered in the hall. “Or am I just imagining it?”

“Hallucination,” they chorused together, and started toward the door. “The captain is leaving, and so is the hallucination. Good night, Captain!”

“Good night, hallucination!” Nidor replied, letting them go ahead of him

He glanced at Staszek, who had plopped on the couch and turned the TV on.

“Sorry, boss, I’ll get back there in a little bit,” the man explained. “In just a little bit, just let me just gather my strength. That new one is a pain in the ass, I swear. It’s judgement day, and it’s only morning...” he sighed heavily and shook his head wearily.

The captain nodded and closed the door. Judgement day for real. Hopefully he didn’t say it at the wrong time.

***

Vesper woke up suddenly. Something bad had happened.

He didn’t know what, but his intuition screamed in alarm.

Something bad, something very bad was going on. Something was not right.

He got out of bed, and picked up a gun from his nightstand. He stood still for a moment, listening carefully. Everything seemed quiet, peaceful. But something wasn’t right.

He left the room quietly, sneaking step after step in the semi-dark corridor. The darkened base slept like it did every day, with a peaceful, tired sleep. But something told him to be careful. That today, it wasn’t safe here.

He sneaked into the TV hall carefully, sweeping it with his eyes. Nothing; empty and peaceful. Only glasses with leftover blood stood lonely at the bar. Looks like the next shift nighters, pulled suddenly from their sleep, hadn’t even had time to eat properly and just went straight to work.

He glanced at the control screen. Motion sensors, placed in critical spots, shone with a peaceful green. The monitoring center didn’t seem off at all, either. There were no strangers in the base, just their own people. Which meant everything was perfectly fine.

But it wasn’t. It just wasn’t, and Vesper didn’t know what was wrong.

For some time now, Vesper had had flashes of contact with a strange, wavy force. It was thanks to it, that he sometimes felt danger was near, or on the contrary, that he could sleep safely. He called it ‘intuition’ for lack of a better term. Now that ‘something’ nearly screamed, despite the seeming peace reigning around.

Vesper walked up to the other door, and stepped out into the corridor joining the human part of the base with the nighters’. He took a step, and a wooden parquet squeaked mercilessly. The nighter rose up a little, and began to float through the air soundlessly.

Some voices came from a nearby room, angry, shouting. Vesper clung to the wall, sharpened his ears.

“Maybe you’d like to finally tell me the truth!” Umens was feverish. Vesper recognized him immediately. “Quit leading me on already, and tell me once and for all how things are!”

Vesper widened his eyes in astonishment. It happened that Umens was furious, but to let it show? He was always so expertly in control... what was going on here?

“Maybe you’re right,” a woman’s voice finally responded slowly.

The eavesdropper frowned. He knew that voice, he knew it for sure. But for now, he couldn’t put its owner’s face to it.

“So?” the captain insisted, fury almost pouring out of the word.

“I won’t join you,” the woman choked out with clear desperation in her voice. “I’ve thought things over. Don’t count on it... I won’t join. Ever.”

“That’s idiotic.” The man regained his control suddenly, and began to speak clearly and definitely. “You have nothing to lose. Everything to gain. Think it over again.”

“On the contrary, I have everything to lose,” she replied with conviction. “Everything I used to believe in. All the years spent in this service. No, you won’t convince me. I’ve made my decision. End of discussion on that subject.”

Heavy silence fell for a moment. Vesper clung to the wall in the overwhelming silence. His heartbeat seemed to pound noisily.

“I have to go now,” Umens said slowly, in very strange voice. “The guys are waiting in the cars. I have to go.”

“Me too,” the woman replied. “I have my duties. Like all of us here.”

Brisk footsteps sounded, then the door was opened rapidly and Umens appeared in the hallway. He noticed the nighter immediately, and threw him a particularly unfavorable glance.

“And what are you doing here?” he growled. “You were supposed to sleep. Would you like another shift?”

“I wanted to see the new guy,” Vesper smiled apologetically. “I’ve had enough of being the dog, maybe finally someone else would take this honorable position in the herd.”

Umens shook his head disapprovingly.

“Don’t get hysterical here, okay?” he said dryly. “You’re not the dog anymore, or haven’t you noticed? Especially since that Polfa mission...” He waved his hand impatiently. “Go sleep, nighter.” He turned around and walked down the hallway, speeding up with each step.

A woman stood at the doorstep. Vesper turned to face her quickly, and gasped instinctively under a new wave of astonishment.

Maria. Human. From the recruitment cell. She watched him with red, teary eyes.

“Go sleep, nighter,” she repeated like captain’s echo, who had already disappeared around the corner.

What was going on, he wanted to ask, but stopped himself at the last moment. This wasn’t a good time to admit he’d heard anything.

“Oh, Maria!” he smiled politely. “Gosh, I haven’t seen you in forever. I keep promising myself to drop in on you guys, but you know, this job...”

“I know,” she said shortly, not reciprocating the smile. “Don’t worry, none of you ever drop in. As if you wanted to forget you once had a different life.”

“It’s not like that,” he protested. “But, you know, this job...” he broke off, embarrassed.

She was right, he suddenly realized, completely right. Exactly right. He doesn’t ever want to go back to that life, why would he want to? To that pathetic state, when he was weak, insignificant, when he was a simple human zero?

“Sure it’s not like that,” she said in dead, impersonal voice. “Go sleep, nighter,” she repeated like a mantra. “You need to rest up to be capable of that job of yours.” She turned around and walked down the hallway slowly.

He wanted to call after her, but all words got stuck in his throat.

He turned back too, and returned to TV hall. He walked up to the bar, feeling each of the words overheard a moment ago sit in his mind with a strange weight.

He grabbed a clean glass and filled it with blood all the way to the top. He lifted it to his mouth...

A fleeting, familiar scent hit his nose. Vesper held the glass in place, staring at it in disbelief. His hand began to shake, and red waves spread over the liquid’s surface.

This blood is...Oh, it smells so wonderful, so sweet and tempting.

“Nidor!” he screamed in his mind. “Nidor, come here, quick!”

He put the glass on the counter, staring at it in fear.

Unclean. Contaminated. Poisoned blood.

***

“I don’t smell anything,” Nidor said, scratching his bandages. “Vesper, really, nothing at all.” He picked the glass up, and smelled its contents once more. “Not one bit,” he shook his head with conviction.

“Just don’t drink it, I’m begging you,” Vesper said tensely. “If you don’t want to, don’t believe me. But don’t drink it. Have it tested, please.”

Nidor nodded.

“Sure,” he said calmly. “We can’t take an alarm like that lightly. I’ll have it tested, of course. Meanwhile, we’ll take another container.”

“It could be contaminated, too.” Vesper shook his head with unhidden worry. “Since this one here is...” The captain looked at him with irritation.

“Listen, pal,” he said. “The container’s been checked, see? Stamped. You drank from it a few hours ago. Now you claim to smell a non-neutral mix in it. I don’t smell anything, but fine, I’ll have it analyzed. But tell me, in what miraculous way could someone have poisoned it?” He stared at him carefully. “Here, among us?”

Vesper inhaled deeply, and slowly let the air out.

“Umens is acting kind of strange,” he let out determinedly.

“What are you talking about?” Nidor asked quickly.

Vesper repeated the overheard conversation in one breath. He finished, seeing how his colleague’s eyes had narrowed angrily between the slits in his bandages.

“We don’t have a habit of eavesdropping on our colleagues’ personal conversations here,” Nidor announced seriously. “Remember that no nighter has ever betrayed us. Ever!” he added strongly. “What you’re suggesting is a blemish on our honor! But I’ll put it on the account of your weariness.” He softened a bit. “You are overworked, stressed out, and it shows. You’re starting to catch paranoia. Well, that’s normal. Everyone goes through that after spending some time here. Go back to your room, I’ll take care of that blood.”

“You decided that I eavesdropped on someone’s private conversation and called you over to gossip?” Vesper asked in disbelief. “What are you trying to say, Nidor? Besides, it makes no sense, Umens and Maria in a private conversation, yeah right!” he suddenly got furious. “And when I tell you that I smell that mix in the blood, then I do, and that’s the end of it! I have the most sensitive sense of smell in whole unit, when it comes to that. Of all people, you shouldn’t be surprised about it!” he broke off, realizing too late that it could sound like a reproach.

Nidor took it exactly that way.

“I didn’t want that to happen. For you to become so... oversensitive,” he said angrily. “And I’m really sorry, you know that. But how long do you plan to remind me of that? Grow up already! And stop being so hysterical, all right?”

Vesper stared at his friend with mixed feelings. Nidor was as aggressive as Umens had been a moment ago... what the hell was going on here?

“Did you drink this blood?” he asked his friend worriedly.

“Sure did,” the other answered immediately. “So did you. Just this morning. Just like everyone on your shift!”

“It didn’t smell like that in the morning!” Vesper parried rapidly. “Nidor, you are acting kind of strange, too!” he said point blank. “You’ve never yelled at me, not mentioning that suddenly you don’t believe me. I thought I could trust you, of all people. What the hell is going on around here?”

“As far as I’m concerned, I’m wildly pissed off.” The other stated openly, “Everything is falling apart around us, we lose points, one by one. Aranea has a plan, and she’s following through with it slowly, step by step, and all we can do it sit around and wait for her move. She knows everything about us, and we know nothing about her. She’s holding us by our balls. And I’m fucking grounded here!” he finally exploded. “I sit on my ass like an old wuss and can’t stick my nose out of the door! And that Alacer is gonna school me on how to lead a mission. Me?! I watch the house! Me, a nighter captain! Soon I’ll start to cook and clean and paint my nails!”

Vesper smiled in relief. Considering the tough situation, Nidor was holding up pretty well anyway.

“And everything fucking itches me!” the captain complained in the end. “It’s unbearable, you have no idea...”

“Easy, I’m a doctor,” the other answered instinctively. “I have some idea.”

“You were a doctor,” Nidor riposted. “Now you’re in ISA’s night service. Forget that other life; you walked over to this side, and don’t look back.” He suddenly got serious. “That’s exactly Umens’ problem,” he added quietly.

Vesper stared at him, not understanding.

“He and Maria met, when they were both still human,” Nidor said. “Then the Lord spied out Umens and invited him to us, and she stayed on the other side. After some time, he began to miss her. He asked the Lord to recruit her as well. Yes, she came here... but she decided not to cross to the nighter side.”

“Why?” Vesper widened his eyes in astonishment.

“Because knowing herself and her ingrown aggression, she decided she would soon join the renegades if she crossed over,” Nidor stated, shaking his head with disapproval. “I think it’s bull; the woman has some sick complexes. Ultor said that one of the lords would definitely take her, but no pressure. We need to wait for her conscious decision. And its stayed that way. Umens waits like a moron, hoping that maybe she’ll think it over. And the woman, like a woman, sometimes she changes her mind and wants to join him, then backtracks immediately... I’m not surprises the guy’s pissed off,” he broke off and glanced at his friend wearily. “So how’s that, Mr. Conspiracy Theory? That explanation’s enough?”

Vesper nodded, clearly ashamed. He must have really wound himself up too much. Noting strange, after all. Everyone around walks around pumped, and is entitled to some small emotional crisis. He sighed heavily.

“But that blood...” he muttered shyly. “It really smells weird...”

“We’ll check it, don’t worry,” the captain promised. “But also take into consideration that you could be oversensitive. From wariness, stress... Besides, you’re still developing your parapsychological abilities, which destabilizes your mental balance. Do you feel those strange waves of pulsating force?” he stared at him attentively.

Vesper nodded zealously.

“Exactly,” Nidor agreed, “You’re growing up, brother.” He yawned, covering his mouth. “All right, just so you can have a piece of mind, we’ll check something else too,” he added. “I’m pretty sure that nobody strange got onto the unit’s grounds. But let’s ask Staszek, just in case. He sat here, in TV hall, when we weren’t here. Maybe he saw something, who knows? Maybe an unexpected, secret renegade landing,” he joked a little maliciously.

“Yes, exactly, let’s go,” Vesper said. “Maybe I got hysterical like some chick, I’m sorry. But... You know, I couldn’t sleep peacefully. And maybe something will clear up this way.”

“No problem,” Nidor sighed, walking toward the door. “Ladies first,” he made an inviting motion with his hand.

Vesper glanced at him wolfishly, but crossed the doorstep without a word.

***

“If vampires existed, they would be weak, helpless creatures,” the recruit was trying to prove when Nidor and Vesper entered the room. “Sensitive, cowering in fear of light. Without any chances in a confrontation with modern humans equipped with the newest technological wonders. They would be kept in reservations, like the North American Indians after being dominated by a white man.”

Maria and Wojtek sat staring at their computer screens, ostentatiously not talking to him. They jumped up with obvious relief at seeing the nighters.

“Captain...” Maria straightened up officially for the recruit’s benefit.

That one lifted himself from his seat too, though quite reluctantly. He glanced at Nidor with doubt. He probably debated whether this guy in rumpled sweats was really a captain, or maybe another trick from his colleagues.

“At ease,” Nidor said, and glanced toward the empty desk, “And where’s Staszek? We need to talk to him.”

“He went out to town with an important task,” Wojtek said slowly. “He said you told him to do something, Captain.”

The nighters exchanged uneasy glances.

“He shamelessly took off,” Nidor decided, but without much conviction. “Taking advantage of Umens’ absence and me sleeping...”

“Believe what you will,” Vesper parried immediately. “But to me, this whole smells more and more like renegades.”

“Oh, finally some captain,” the recruit said suddenly, obviously convinced. “Good that my colleague said so, because you don’t look like an upper officer in those sweats. When will I get a serious mission?” He stared at Nidor with pressure. “How long will you keep me here, with my nose stuck in the internet, chasing some nonsense? It’s clearly idiotic to waste my abilities like that. I feel compelled to remark that the human resource management here is on a pathetic level.”

“You got your assignment from your training officer,” Nidor responded, unmoved. “Please continue with your assignment.”

“You really could just give it up already!” the other snorted disdainfully. “Yeah, a group of forest-cloister Bonds, fully equipped to fight overgrown bats. Will I finally find out what’s really going on? Because it’s definitely not those fairy tales I’m fed by this honorable company,” he waved ostentatiously at his coworkers.

“You will find out,” Vesper couldn’t contain himself. “And you’ll die a moment later. How about that?”

“Don’t threaten me, pal,” the other parried. “I’m not such a scaredy-cat. An ISA officer needs to have nerves of steel and to find himself in every situation...”

“Then find yourself now,” Nidor suggested. “You got an assignment, so do it. That’s an order!” he barked briskly, sharply.

“You’re not my training officer, so don’t order me around,” the recruit got offended, but sat in front of his computer again and typed, in huge letters, ‘STUPID VAMPIRES’ into Google search. Results 1-10 out of around 1,530 for search ‘STUPID VAMPIRES’. (Found in 0.39 sec.), the search engine said.

“Judgement day,” Nidor growled, leaving the room.

Vesper followed him without hesitation.

“What are we gonna do now?” He asked quietly.

Nidor stopped at some distance from the room, his eyes burning with fury. The recruit’s muffled prattle could be heard even from here.

“First we’re gonna shoot that little smart ass, so Ultor doesn’t get offended that we present him with that little piece of shit!” the captain was furious. “And you wonder why Umens walks around pissed off? He’s with him a few hours every day! Eve-ry-day!”

“I’m not surprised anymore,” Vesper admitted. “Everything’s clear. But...”

“But what?” Nidor asked rapidly.

“Just that blood still stinks to me” Vesper repeated stubbornly. “And Staszek’s sudden disappearance too. I can’t help it; I just have this freaking untrusting personality.”

The other stared at him in silence.

“I hope you’re not right,” he stated gloomily. “But fine, let’s check it out. You fly over... wait no, what am I talking about, it’s already day. Drive over to the hospital, to look in on our friend Crumbly, because... fuck, just because. Nobody will forbid two grown men to meet in a public place. Even without obvious reasons.”

“Especially since he saved my life,” Vesper added seriously. “I have a right to have some brotherly feelings for him.”

“You will have a lot of brothers like that in this profession,” Nidor sighed with slight bitterness. “But right, go. And take a look at the guys, and Umens, to see if everything is all right with them. And report immediately.”

“Yes, Captain!” Vesper replied with a trace of relief in his voice.

The door opened and the young recruit stepped out briskly into the hallway.

“Oh, look, X-men- Polish edition,” he said mockingly. “So what are you waiting for? Aren’t you supposed to be out saving the world?”

Vesper walked up to him slowly. Suddenly, with a swift move, he put his right hand on the man’s shoulder. In a blink of an eye, he glided behind the recruit, and placed his left hand on his right, pressing his arm to the recruit’s back. He locked his opponent’s neck in a classic nelson and bent down slightly, which caused the other to kneel instantly, choking and coughing.

“I will eat you if you don’t stop fucking pissing me off,” Vesper stated calmly, then let go of the victim, and turned around and marched off.

The man wanted to say something more, but only gurgled painfully. He put both hands up to squeezed his throat and began to massage it briskly. He stared after Vesper with disdain, and with some appreciation.

Both nighters disappeared in the dark hallway.

***

Vesper glided on Lubelska Road, planning the quickest drive to Woloska Street. He swore passionately at that. There was no way he could avoid traffic. Unless his BMW learned to fly with him.

His cellphone buzzed in his pocket, demanding his attention with its insistent ringtone. He’d forgotten the headset again, and he still didn’t like talking on the phone while driving, especially driving two hundred miles per hour on this tiny stretch before Lubelska Road ended.

“Listen, did your guys go nuts or something?” That was Crumbly, clearly worried,

“What’s going on?” Vesper barked, feeling an unpleasant shiver run up his back.

“Well, they started thrashing like never before. Guys called me from surgery to ask if I understood any of it, because they’d never seen mass insanity during their whole service. Your guys started acting like they were drunk. They got aggressive, and a little unpleasant... Our guys didn’t leave them hanging, the company got some punches in.” Vesper could hear in Crumbly’s voice that the man was getting flustered. “And your guys said, ‘Screw this job,’ and they wouldn’t ‘babysit ungrateful dicks... let them get what they deserve,’ or something like that. So they are going to town. And they left. Listen...” the cop swallowed. “Is that normal for you guys?”

“No,” the nighter said, feeling his heart in his throat. “Absolutely not.”

“So what the fucking fuck is going on here” Crumbly asked. “Someone bought them? The city? Those... Terrorists?”

“Listen, man. First of all, warn your guys,” nighter asked seriously. “Tell them to watch out.”

Crumbly was silent for a moment. Vesper grimaced in an instinctive half-smile, waiting for a comment. The other would probably say something in his own style, like ‘whoa what a ride’ or something...

“It’s hot?” the police officer asked consciously.

“Yes,” the nighter replied immediately. “Yes, it’s very hot. Be careful.” The trace of smile vanished from his face. “I’ll come to the rescue with the cavalry. As soon as I can.”

“Okay,” the other confirmed calmly. “Should I call more of my guys, what do you think?”

Vesper thought it over for a minute. More police officers, better protection. But also a bigger hunt for the renegades if something happened. But humans had a better chance during the day. Maybe vampires wouldn’t defeat them so easily.

“Yes,” he decided. “Call them over.”

“What reason should I give them?” the A-T kept asking, “Because, you know, I can’t really say that ISAs went to hell and I’m afraid to sleep alone.”

The nighter held his breath in. Tell him about the renegades? Damn, but then Crumbly would have to cross over to the Night side. And he didn’t know if Crumbly would want that.

“Listen, wait till I get in touch with my commanding officers,” he choked out in a strange voice. “I don’t know how much I can tell you. I just don’t know. Sorry, man.” He was silent for a while, letting the other man digest the information he’d heard, then added quickly. “Okay, I’m going. Let’s not waste time.” He hung up.

He waited for enough distance between cars and turned around rapidly, the tires squealing mercilessly over the burning asphalt. He dialed Nidor’s number with a shaking hand. Beep, beep, beep... He wasn’t answering, damn it.

“Nidor!” he yelled in his mind.

No, too far. Maybe the lord could converse at such distance, but not him, just a regular nighter. But the captain needed to know everything as soon as possible.

He swore and started flooring it toward Emów. He turned the radio on to calm his nerves.

“Comet’s night approaches, rain of fiery meteors,” Budka Suflera’s hit from years ago chimed in. “You won’t find out from the paper who will survive their death...”

“Fuck!” he growled, turning the radio off immediately. “All we need is an illegal recruitment right now!”

He didn’t have time to drive around to the main road and park. He drove through the overgrown, forest road as a shortcut, the same route he’d taken the first time he drove to the unit. He drove into the rusty gate; it broke apart in front of him with a chink. He flew forward, ripping bits of grass and sand from the ground. He braked right in front of the building, letting the car’s rear slide rapidly.

He ran out of the car, and got to the door in two jumps. He kept calling Nidor in his mind, but he received no answer. He swallowed. A ball was growing in his throat and it began to choke him. His feelings were proving to be true: this was a particularly nasty day, and kept getting worse with every minute.

He waved at the guard, who opened the door for him instantly. Vesper ran through the hallways of the human part of the building. He needed to get to the nighters as quickly as he could...

Suddenly, he stopped, touched by another feeling. It was quiet here, very quiet...What, did the kid got tired of bitching?

He turned around toward door number twelve. He hesitated for a moment, then pushed it open with a decisive move. He looked into the room, kneeling at the threshold, and ripped the gun out of the holster instantly.

Maria lay in center of the room in a pool of red. Umens was bent over the woman, her blood stained his lips and fangs. He held the ripped wrist of his right hand directly over Maria’s lips, and stared expectantly as his own blood slowly dripped into her mouth.

Nidor, Wojtek, and the recruit kneeled by the wall in an obedient row. The last one’s eyes were wide, nearly mad with fear. Vesper glanced around the room swiftly. Maybe a renegade was hiding here somewhere? After all, it was impossible that Umens, a nighter captain... He swallowed rapidly. But yes.

“Illegal recruitment makes you a renegade,” he announced in a shaking voice. “Let her go, Captain. And let the rest out from under your control. You’re under arrest.”

The other stared at him with absent eyes, as if he didn’t understand Vesper’s words.

“How long can one wait?” he asked calmly. “I had to finally help her with the decision. I had to, you understand that. I had to.”

Vesper let the air out with a hiss. Umens’ eyes... absent, wild. Just like the ones the stoned vampire in Moonwalker had. Exactly the same.

“You’re under arrest,” he said with difficulty. “You bring dishonor on yourself and on all of us. You’re a renegade.”

“No nighter has ever been, is not, and never will be a renegade.” Umens answered calmly. “Don’t you know that, kid? I just...” he broke off and glanced down. “I just called her to me,” he whispered with great tenderness in his voice. “She was afraid to come on her own. So like a woman, you see. No, you don’t. None of you here understands anything.”

Vesper stared at the target, aligned it with Umens’ burning eyes in the background. His hands shook, and he felt like he was in a nightmare. Was he going to shoot the captain? But he had to...Had to!

Umens stared at him carefully, probably hearing his thoughts. A frightening, desperate grimace crawled up to his face: not a smile, not desperation. Suddenly, the captain got up and picked up Maria with lightning speed and jumped out of the window with her, spraying glass bits around.

Vesper shot, before he could understand what was really going on. The bullet left through the empty window, and was lost somewhere among the trees.

The dark dot disappeared swiftly beyond the forest.

The kneeling men shook themselves off at the same time. Nidor got up and lunged for the window, Vesper followed him. They reached through the sharp shards sticking out from the frame, and stuck to both sides of the opening. They looked out carefully, with guns ready to shoot, and began to check out the area attentively.

“He was strong; I didn’t expect it,” Nidor gasped wearily. “Oh fuck, he was so strong... He got us down on our knees, I didn’t even have time to make a sound.”

“Like a stoner,” Vesper said in shaking voice, observing the area. “And you’re still really weak. You’re still a convalescent.”

“You were right,” the captain said, swallowing nervously. “You were right. That blood was contaminated.”

They turned to face the people. Wojtek had marched to his desk and sat in the chair as if nothing had happened. He was white as a sheet and didn’t say a word.

The recruit stared at them with absent eyes, then looked at Vesper. His eyes widened even more.

“Don’t eat me,” he said in unnaturally calm voice. “Okay?”

“Will you behave?” Vesper wanted to make sure, feeling more and more absurd. “You promise?”

The other man nodded eagerly.

“Screw his promises,” Nidor barked nervously. “He will last in his promise fifteen minutes, tops. Then, once he runs, we’ll read all about us in the papers. We need to neutralize him, and that’s that,” he sighed heavily. “But how? We’re not gonna keep him in the Bunker till the end of his days.”

“But I really promise,” the young one repeated in begging voice. “Really!”

He glanced around desperately, searching for help. His eyes stopped on his computer screen, where his lasts search results were still up. ‘STUPID VAMPIRES’ the merciless writing said.

The recruit closed his eyes, and his lips trembled.

“Wait, Nidor,” Vesper sent suddenly. “I have an idea.”

He ran out of the room, lunged for the TV hall, where, as he remembered, was the first aid kit. He ripped it off the wall, and went back immediately.

Nidor and Wojtek held the recruit down together, who was screaming and thrashing with all his strength. As expected, he didn’t plan on keeping his promise.

“Arm, give me his arm!” Vesper yelled.

He tossed the kit’s contents on a nearby desk, and swiftly picked out the necessary items.

“Don’t move,” he said, without even looking at the recruit. “This is your only chance of survival.”

The kid calmed down instantly, panting heavily, and stared at the nighter with wide eyes. Vesper turned to the desk. He walked to the recruit after a moment, holding a full syringe. The human stared at it in fear. He jerked again, helplessly.

“Either this, or a bullet to the head,” Vesper stated grimly.

Nidor and Wojtek understood his plan, and held the recruit’s arm straightened out. Vesper tightened a tourniquet on his arm. The kid jerked again.

“You want me to poke you aimlessly, then go ahead,” the nighter barked, looking for the vein.

He stuck him right away, not as well as he once had, but not bad either. He released the tourniquet and administered the liquid slowly, watching the recruit’s face carefully. The man tightened his lips, and tears streamed from his eyes.

“All right,” Vesper said. He loosened the tourniquet and pulled the needle out. “So... time for the second act. You can let go of his arm, gents. And you, plug the hole with your finger, so you don’t bleed out.”

He turned to the desk, preparing another injection.

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Nidor couldn’t hold it in. “Did you go completely mental? You feel like medical experimentation? We don’t have time!”

“Calm down, trust me,” Vesper responded tensely, and walked up to his victim.

He grabbed the forearm skin between two fingers, and stuck the thinnest insulin needle in the fold. He injected the contents with one move of the syringe.

“Okay, we’re all done,” he said stepping back. “You can let go of him, gents.”

They listened to him reluctantly, still observing the recruit carefully.

“I feel hot,” the kid whispered, staring at them with foggy eyes. “What was that... what?”

“Have you seen Escape from New York?” Vesper asked, praying for a confirmatory answer.

The recruit nodded slowly, and at the same time inhaled pathetically through a phlegmy nose.

“So now you know, more or less, how Snake Plisken felt,” the torturer said. “What you had injected into your vein was poison. A mortal one, might I add.”

The kid hung his head like a dead man. He began to shake all over.

Suddenly James Bond, whose talent was being wasted by looking for information about stupid vampires, vanished. Now he was a simple, scared, little human, into whose eyes death was staring with interest.

Vesper grabbed the recruit’s hair, lifting his head up.

“And what was injected in your arm,” he choked out slowly, “that was your chance. The antidote.”

The other man blinked rapidly.

“That dose will be good enough for twelve hours,” the nighter kept speaking slowly. “If you run away, betray us, or do something equally stupid... you simply won’t get the next one. And nobody else will give it to you, so don’t count on that. You will die in agony. That’s all.” He let go of the man’s head, letting it fall loosely.

The recruit rocked back and forth.

“How long will this last?” he asked suddenly. “I’ll do my job here, I understand, but then... when will you give me the permanent antidote?”

“Never,” Vesper said brutally. “You’re tied with us for life. Either that, or a bullet to the head.”

And let the lord decide what to do with him, and where to put him, he added in his mind with relief. Nidor didn’t say anything, just nodded.

“So... what am I supposed to do now?” the recruit choked out through tears. “What do you want... what do you wish?” he corrected himself immediately.

He had grown up, they thought with surprise. Unbelievable how simple it was.

“Captain?” Vesper nodded at his superior.

“For now, go to your room,” Nidor decided. “And stay there, until we call you. You need rest.”

“Yes, sir!” the man replied obediently, wiping tears away with the back of his hand.

“Okay, then go!” The nighter commanded.

The recruit left the room at top speed, swaying with each step. Shortly, they heard his uneven steps echo in the hallway.

Only then did Nidor looked at Vesper questioningly.

“That’s the first time I’ve heard that we have such terrible poisons. And in a commonly-available kit,” he said. “Will you tell me more?”

“I had to improvise,” Vesper said with a shrug. “I injected Tylenol in his vein. He could use it, he got a few bruises here. And a simple saline solution under his skin. I ran out of ideas there...”

“Great job,” the captain said with a trace of relief in his voice. “But, Vesper, what are you doing here anyway?” he realized suddenly. “You were supposed to be with Crumbly.”

Vesper briefly repeated his conversation with the A-T.

“Damn it!” Nidor said. “That means it’s worse than I thought...” he became thoughtful for a moment; it was obvious he was weighing a particularly hard decision. “Listen, go to him now,” he said finally. “Secure the area as much as you can. We’ll get to you... as soon as we can.”

“You’re sending me alone?” Vesper couldn’t believe it. “Without backup?”

“Who am I supposed to give you?” Nidor asked. “Six stoned nighters, including a captain, wander around the city. We have to get them, before it blows up... and before the guys turn into real renegades.” He swallowed. “Besides, someone has to stay at the base, so we don’t just set ourselves up for shots, like some idiots. And there is no way we can pull anyone from the storage. So...”

“So I’m going alone,” Vesper summed up quietly.

The other nodded, looking into his eyes seriously.

“Oh, and remember...” he started, and became silent for a while, like always when he had to choke out an unpleasant decision. “You’re there to protect Crumbly. Nobody else. The renegades are set for him the most, it’s a matter of honor for them. And for us too.”

“And the others?” Vesper asked, returning the stare.

“If they make it, then I’ll be very happy,” the other nighter responded very slowly.

“I understand, Captain” he responded calmly.

And then Vesper turned toward the exit, setting up another plan in his mind to avoid traffic.

***

Vesper ran through the huge main entrance of the Internal Matters and Administration Ministry’s hospital. He remembered Nidor’s order, but... maybe he should check up on the other A-Ts, those who were in the surgery ward, and then stay with Crumbly? He took out his cell, and dialed his friend’s number.

“The number you have dialed...” a dry female voice answered. “Leave a message.”

Nighter stared at the cell in confusion. He checked the number, and it did check out, written into the contacts as Crumbly. What the heck was that woman doing there?

Well, maybe something clicked wrong in the wires. Let’s try again.

“The number you have dialed...” the same woman again.

Vesper swallowed and hung up. He ran further along the hallway.

Could renegades hack the connection and direct him elsewhere? In that case, there was no way he would leave a voicemail. Vesper knew they were in trouble, but that wasn’t news.

He started up the stairs, trying to avoid a potential elevator trap. He ran up to Block E’s fourth floor, where the orthopedic department was located. He ran down the hall, all the way to the A-Ts room... Empty. His heart began to pound faster, in an unsteady rhythm. He’d had enough premonition feelings for today, and that nasty consciousness that something wasn’t right. But he couldn’t help that.

He walked up to the nurses’ station.

“Excuse me, where is...” he broke off, confused.

Damn it, what was Crumbly’s real name? Piotr probably... or Martin? No, it was Piotr probably. Dang, maybe Lucas?

“I don’t know,” the nurse answered sourly, without waiting for the patient’s name. “I’m only substituting, and only for a short while.” Her expression clearly stated that she didn’t want anyone to bother her right then.

Vesper decided not to give up so easily.

“Please find out,” he said calmly. “Patient Piotr Jazwinski,” he remembered with relief. “I went to his room, and the bed was empty, no chart, which means he was moved. I need to know where he is.”

“If you wait, you’ll find out,” she growled. “Once my colleague comes back. She took her kid to the doctor, and she’ll be back in two, three hours. I’m not about to learn all the patient information for such a short time. Besides, I have nobody to ask, I’m here alone. We rotate every now and then, we change departments if there’s need... There is a flu outbreak. You know, we get sick sometimes too.” She stared at him with enmity.

He backed away, understanding he wouldn’t get anything out of her. He clenched his teeth and got the anger under control. He took a few steps and knocked on the doctors’ door. He walked in without waiting for a response.

“I’m looking for patient Jazwinski,” he announced from the door. “Was he moved?”

“He went for a MRI,” the doctor said, not looking up from the TV. “The intern took him. They’ll be back in at least an hour.”

“Where is the resonance department?” Vesper asked quickly, somewhat relieved.

The doctor finally faced him, obviously upset about losing precious game minutes.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” he asked reluctantly. “They’ll be back when they come back. Don’t worry, they won’t get lost.”

Vesper took out his black ID with the silver crowned eagle, engraved with “Republic of Poland” and “Internal Security Agency”. He waved it in front of the doctor’s eyes.

The man because serious instantly.

“The Radiology Diagnosis Unit. Main building, ground floor,” he answered swiftly. “Right by the Registration and Medical Rescue Department. Next to Policlinic.”

“Thank you. Please don’t tell anyone about this, okay?” Vesper ran out of the room, without even closing the door behind himself.

He ran down the stairs to the MRI, magnetic resonance imaging. If Crumbly was in the middle of a procedure, then it was obvious his cell was off. The magnetic field would cause strong interference, so electronics would need to be kept off.

He got to the unit, and glanced around the hall. The same bespectacled woman with mousy-blond hair who was on shift last night sat in the waiting area.

“Jazwinski’s inside?” he asked without introductions.

She nodded and yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. She seemed very tired.

“Did you change his room?” he confirmed.

“He really insisted,” she agreed. “He didn’t feel safe in the other one.”

He sighed slightly, feeling overwhelming relief.

“How long since he went in?” he asked more calmly.

“Five minutes,” she replied. “It will take a while. They’re doing his whole spine, and the brain.”

He hesitated for a moment. He should sit here with her and guard Crumbly, as he had been told. But on the other hand... the risk that the renegades would attack exactly now, that they’d find out that Crumbly was right here, wasn’t too high. The A-Ts upstairs though... He decided to just pop in for a second, just to check up on them.

Stop it, don’t be a fool, he thought. You won’t help them alone. And you’ll screw up the matters here.

He sighed heavily, walked up to the intern, and sat on the bench, next to her. He stared aimlessly at the opposite wall, not in the mood for a pleasant banalities exchange. Thankfully, the girl seemed tired enough not to want to talk either. So they sat in total silence.

Suddenly, Vesper raised his head, and stared ahead with unseeing eyes.

This damn, overwhelming feeling again. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

With the guys upstairs. A really nasty situation.

And it was so bad, he couldn’t ignore it. He just couldn’t.

“Excuse me,” he said, getting up from the bench.

And then he started to run.

Fourth floor, Block B. Surgery.

He lunged into the clinic, opening the door with a swift push. He saw the guard guys’ worried faces immediately. He walked up to them briskly.

“What’s going on?” he asked quickly. “Hi, Adam.”

“Hey, Jurek,” Adam replied, clearly worried. “Something’s wrong with Henry, Martin, and Charlie. You know, they were in pretty serious condition, but it got worse a moment ago. Seriously.”

“I heard one of the doctors say that they were practically reanimating a corpse,” the other one added. “Fucking fuck...” his voice broke off suddenly.

Vesper glanced around, his hearth thudded uneasily. The bitter taste of helplessness grew in his mouth. There was nothing he could do. And he definitely couldn’t hang around the busy doctors, they’d kick him out unceremoniously, without giving a hoot about his ID.

He studied the windows and doors carefully. Afternoon sun glimmered through the curtains, painfully wounding his eyes, despite the UV filter contacts he stuck in his eyes. But there was no sign of the renegades. Everything was peaceful and silent... even surgical sounds didn’t reach them here. Only some nurse was walking down the hall, carrying a large tray of blood test tubes in both her hands. The sun was at her back, so Vesper narrowed his eyes; it was difficult for him to look at her. She walked right by, not paying attention to the police officers standing by the wall. Only when she was right at the door, she glanced at them pleadingly.

“Could any of you gents open it for me?” she said glancing at her tray-occupied hands.

“Of course,” Vesper moved immediately.

He opened the door for her with a polite smile. She thanked him with a short nod, and looked into his eyes... and he nearly lost his breath. At the first glance, the girl was just plain. Pale, without make-up, with the standard hospital weariness painted on her face. Only when her lids rose up and her eyes flashed up at him, it was as if he faced a secret, wild element. He really wanted to enter that storm, find out more about it, stay within it, just for a moment...

He swallowed rapidly. He wanted to say something, anything, start even a shred of communication. But she looked away, and slipped through the open door. She walked briskly to the opening elevator, and got inside. The metal door closed momentarily... and the magic was gone.

Vesper blinked, coming back to reality. He swore under his breath, calling himself the worst son of a bitch. His colleagues are dying, and he’s chasing skirts. And human ones, on top of that, definitely not for him.

Renegades, where were those damn renegades? He glanced around again, as if expecting the shots, explosions... nothing. Just that steady feeling that something bad had happened.

The doctor left the room, and looked at the policemen. He shook his head slowly and silently. Their throats tightened in sudden grief. They understood him without words.

Vesper hung his head, sighed heavily. Well, he did what he could. Nothing more.

“I’m going back to Piotr,” he told the A-Ts. “If something happens, call.”

“Sure,” they agreed quietly. “Sure.”

He nodded at them in answer, then he turned around and left the floor. He ran down the stairs. He stiffened in sudden fear once he got to the radiology unit.

The intern was gone. So was Crumbly.

He ran into orthopedics, and lunged for the first open door. Glanced inside. No, it wasn’t here... here were only a few men, nearly all covered in plaster, suffering in peace.

He got to the next door and glanced inside. He stopped instantly, ripped his glock from the holster, and molded into the doorframe in absolute silence, glancing into the room’s depths.

An inconspicuous man wearing jeans and a sweater stood on the tall windowsill. He held the intern to himself with his left hand. His right hand was raised high, as if he held onto the wide-opened window’s frame on the outside. Vesper ran his tongue on his suddenly dry lips, recognizing the enemy momentarily. A renegade, damn it.

Crumbly was aiming his gun at the intruder, his hands shaking with the effort.

“If you shoot me, we’ll both fall—me and the white-clad girl,” the renegade said calmly. “Fourth floor, that will be enough. Two dead bodies at once.”

“What do you want?” Crumbly swallowed eagerly.

“You,” the other said. “We just want you. The girl is unimportant, of course. But if there is a need...” he motioned outside with his head. “Art of flying. Bye bye.”

“You will die yourself,” the A-T said furiously.

“Jihad is jihad,” the other cut him off briskly. “But there’s another solution.”

The policeman stared at him questioningly.

“You will go through that window yourself,” the renegade suggested. “It won’t be a long flight. Just enough for your actions in Polfa.”

Crumbly swallowed again. He stared at the sky beyond the window, flashing the clearest blue. He took a step forward.

He would do it, Vesper realized, watching him. The fucking protector of widows and children would do it! He observed the renegade’s concentrated face, his thoughts raced wildly through his brain. They don’t really care for the A-Ts suicide. There were a lot more of them there, waiting for him. They would make sure he didn’t break his head, and take him with them. Crumbly would become a renegade. He was a skilled, trained killer... They needed those, they lacked those.

Crumbly walked to the window with a slow, determined step. The renegade watched him with a wide smile, as if greeting a good friend. As if the matter was already won. Was he so sure that the policeman would follow his order without protest?

He doesn’t even have to jump, Vesper realized. They have a sniper there, hidden somewhere under the opposite building’s roof. Crumbly would get shot. The renegade would drop the chick anyway; she’d seen too much already... And then he would take the man away.

It wasn’t a decision; it was a reflex. The nighter pushed the door open with his shoulder swiftly, lunging inside the room. He shot the renegade, twice between the eyes, twice in the heart. He lunged for Crumbly, pushing him to the ground while the vampire disappeared with the girl.

Some huge force jerked Vesper, once, twice... the third time forcing him to his knees. A wave of heat spread over his breast.

I was right, he thought, they had a sniper outside.

The air got into his lungs, burning with live fire, and got outside, taking droplets of blood with it. He rested his hands on the floor, and his head spun lightly. I didn’t hear the sound of the bullet, fleeted through his thoughts. So it’s true what they say. Bullets whistle around, but you never hear the one meant for you.

Crumbly was just getting up, staring at him, horrified. His hand went to the nurse-call button.

“No,” Vesper stopped him in a hoarse voice. “We’re getting out of here. There’s too many of them. We can’t manage here... alone.”

The A-T nodded, crawled up to him, not going over the windowsill’s line of sight. It’s lucky he was so clear-headed, Vesper thought with relief. He doesn’t shout things like ‘I’m wounded,’ or say that the hospital is the best place for me, after all. That Crumbly wasn’t dumb. Good thing he didn’t become a renegade... for now.

“Let’s go,” he whispered decisively. “Hall, stairs, parking. Go!”

The stairs were in semi-darkness, and the enemy could be hiding at every turn. Weakness, overwhelming weakness, soft legs, but they still had to carry him forward. March, man, the one who doesn’t march, dies. Vesper’s white shirt was all covered in blood. Even the tightly buttoned blazer couldn’t really hide that fact. Crumbly was next to him, wearing hospital-issue striped pajamas, swaying on his legs. People’s startled gazes lighted on them, but nobody said a word. It’s a hospital after all, where would those two be, if not here?

They mixed themselves with a larger group of people, the guard didn’t notice them at the exit. Now for the worst, the parking lot’s open space. Renegade snipers were probably waiting somewhere on the roofs. Luck, simply luck... the snipers either didn’t see them, or maybe were busy with something else?

Never mind, it’s all unimportant, he thought. Neither Crumbly nor Vesper could save anyone else today. If they could save themselves, it would be a miracle.

The nighters’ black BMW stood in the parking lot, looking untouched. But if the renegades were here first, if there was a bomb underneath it... too bad, then they were out of luck. They had no other choice, they had to get in. Bulletproof glass and reinforced steel were their last hope, a little bit of safety.

So they got in. The key turned easily in the ignition; the engine began to work in a quiet cat-like purr. Vesper closes his eyes instinctively...

Everything was okay, no flaming river erupted from the car.

Vesper drove slowly. The world darkened before his eyes every now and then, only to recall its natural colors with an unbelievable effort.

The car rolled out of the parking lot, turned onto Woloska Street, speeding up.

Home, just that single thought pounds in Vesper’s mind. Get home.

Crumbly sat next to him in silence, like he didn’t care one way or another.

Vesper drove through the broken-down gate for a second time that day. He stopped the car right by the human entrance.

“Welcome home,” he told Crumbly. “Welcome to the nighters’ base.”

The other glanced over the pine crowns, swaying gently all around. He nodded, grabbed the door handle and fell out of the car.

He got up before Vesper could limp over to him, and shook his head in refusal, in a resentful gesture, saying, ‘I can handle it myself.’

They dragged themselves so the door. The guard glanced at Vesper, and clear relief was painted on his face.

“At least you came back,” he said, opening the door. “Good thing at least you came back.”

The nighter felt like he wanted to cry.

He led Crumbly along the long hallway, holding him up when he stumbled in the dark. They finally got into the TV hall.

One glance at the courtyard and Vesper’s face brightened in a shy sense of relief. The black Bell 412 EP stood in the yard.

“Dominus,” he whispered. “Pater advenit. Salvati sumus. Salvati.”

Crumbly stared at him, askingly. He must have not understood Latin.

“Ultor came,” Vesper explained, laughing slightly hysterically. “Everything will be fine, you’ll see. He will take care of us. You, me.”

The living quarters’ side door opened, and praetorians ran into the hall in a black row.

“The guard gave word that you came back,” Celer said, grabbing Vesper by the shoulders. “Such luck. Go get ’em some food,” he said briskly to his colleagues.

Two praetorians went to the bar and topped off two glasses, then handed the drinks to them. Vesper grabbed one and gulped it down. Crumbly followed his example, but pulled the glass from his lips after a few sips.

“Disgusting,” he grimaced. “Is it some medication or something?”

They stared at him, astonished.

“What are you talking about, man?” Celer said impatiently. “It’s normal, neutral blood. Don’t worry, double tested, without any additives.”

Crumbly paled.

“Blood?” he asked, staring at the glass’ contents.

“Well, what did you want?” the praetorian sighed. “Of course it’s blood. It’s good. Drink, and don’t whine.”

“Right,” Crumbly said and fell to his knees, throwing up on the carpet.

“Oh fuck,” Celer finally understood. “Human. You brought a human here?” he stared at Vesper in astonishment.

“There was no other way,” the nighter choked out with difficulty. “There really was no other way.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t feel you,” Celer said to the A-T, who still knelt on the ground, wiping his mouth. “I totally didn’t expect a human here. I’m sorry. We’ll find something... human. Once again, I’m sorry.”

“I have to fucking wake up already,” Crumply responded and fainted, falling to the carpet helplessly.

Vesper stared at him with pity, he fainted, what a wimp...

And suddenly his head spun.

***

The world loomed before his eyes, drowning in a sticky fog.

“It’s bad,” Vesper whispered with difficulty. “It’s bad...”

“Very bad,” Nidor confirmed, leaning over him, his eyes flashing with worry. “But don’t worry, we’ll get you out of it. Ultor will take care of you as soon as he gets back from the city, you’ll see.” He sat on the bed and adjusted the blanket.

“Tell me...” the nighter asked, a tear rolling down his cheek. “Tell me, so I know... and not assume... the guys?”

“We pulled them from the city,” Nidor answered slowly. “Thankfully, they didn’t kill anyone. They’re sitting in the Bunker right now, howling with hunger. Maybe they’ll get out of it... the blood was only slightly contaminated, and artificially at that. It’s not exactly the same thing as the real deal.”

Vesper wanted to ask another question but he didn’t have enough strength. He only stared questioningly.

“We’re still looking for Umens,” the captain shook his head. “He hid somewhere with Maria, probably waiting for her to wake up. The standard is three days.”

The nighter closed his eyes. He felt so weak... like never before.

“All calm in the hospital,” Nidor added grimly. “Three A-Ts died from their wounds, but they were in critical condition. The intern wasn’t found; probably the renegades took her... with them, to their side.”

Vesper wanted to sigh, but debilitating pain stopped his chest mid-breath. So he let the air out slowly, tasting the salty flavor of his own blood on his lips again.

“We lost the storage,” the captain let out desperately. “It blew up with all the nighters guarding it. We don’t know how it happened. The major is there right now... cleaning up.”

Vesper closed his eyes. Another tear rolled down his cheek.

The door squeaked, opening slowly. Nidor glanced at the newcomer, and jumped up from the bed. Lord Ultor walked into the room.

“Domine,” the captain whispered pleadingly. “Salve eum...”

Ultor nodded. His eyes were bloodshot; it was clear that he was tired too. The nighter became silent. He moved away a bit, making room for the lord.

He walked up to the bed, and pulled the blanket away, then moved his hands over Vesper’s breast.

“Don’t be afraid, nighter,” Ultor said calmly. “It’ll be all right. It will hurt for a little, and then it will be all right...” he smiled. “All right?”

Vesper nodded slowly, his throat tightening with a sudden sob.

“I can’t spare you the pain and let you sleep,” the lord said. “You have to help me. You have to hold on to life with all your strength so it doesn’t escape you.”

“How?” Vesper asked with difficulty. “How do I do it, my lord...” he coughed, spraying drops of blood all around.

Ultor sat on the bed, and began to unravel the bandages.

“You’ll see,” he said quietly. “You can do it, you’re tough. I knew right away, as soon as I saw you.” He lifted the bandages and glanced at wounded chest, shaking his head. “Hold it.” He handed the blood-soaked fabric to Nidor.

He placed his hands over the first shredded wound. The sniper’s bullets had pierced the bulletproof vest. The bullets had entered the body along with smashed pieces of the protective plates, wreaking real havoc inside.

Ultor was silent, and his face assumed a focused, solemn expression. He pressed his fingers to the wound’s edges and stared at the leaking blood.

Vesper yelled as some force jerked his insides mercilessly. A fiery ball of pain ripped from somewhere inside and made its way up in a slow, snail-like tempo. The nighter shivered whole, and tears streamed down his face.

“Hold on, kid, hold on,” Ultor said gently.

He jerked again, even stronger. The bullet, called by the lord, began to travel up to the surface. Pain pierced Vesper from the inside out; it grew at lightning speed, ripping an animalistic howl from his throat. Suddenly it abated, and darkness swathed the world, bringing unspeakable relief with itself.

Vesper relaxed, and a wide smile spread over his tear-stained face. He embraced the surrounding darkness, meeting it gladly.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Ultor said sharply. “Get back here, don’t even think it could be any different.”

He pulled once more, and the nighter felt something breaking and spreading hotness over his body. Lord Ultor tightened his hand, and then raised it triumphantly. He put it by the nighter’s face, straightened his fingers, displaying a bloody piece of lead.

“So the first one is behind us,” he said. “You’re doing great. From now, it’ll get better, this one was the worst. It sat right next to the aorta.”

Vesper fell to his pillow, sobbing without a shred of shame. Ultor extended his hand to Nidor. “Take it for him, he can keep it as a souvenir.” He tossed the other nighter the bullet, which he caught eagerly. “Later, he will pass on the souvenirs; he would have to start a scrap heap in his room otherwise... but he can keep the first one.”

Nidor nodded, his eyes glistened emotionally. But he didn’t say a word.

“So, are you ready?” Ultor asked, getting serious. “The sooner we start, the sooner it will be behind us.” He looked at Vesper carefully.

The young nighter sighed slightly, spreading bloody bubbles again. He nodded, and pursed his lips, waiting for the pain.

The lord put his hands on another wound.

***

The world returned with the scent of pinesap, wafting in through the opened window. Vesper opened his eyes. He inhaled deeply and let it out with a huge feeling of relief. Nothing hurt him this time.

He turned his head. A warm smile brightened his face.

Nidor sat in the chair next to the bed, his head lolling on his shoulder. He was asleep. He probably planned to watch him, before falling asleep this way.

Vesper pulled himself up to sit. He became dizzy instantly. He fell back onto the pillow, feeling how weak he was.

Nidor opened his eyes immediately.

“Welcome among the undead,” he said, blinking his sleepy eyes and shrugging off sleep hurriedly. “How do you feel? Are you taking today’s shift, or do you want to be a lazy a little longer?” He smiled with ill-hidden relief, seeing Vesper awake.

“For the glory of motherland,” the nighter replied weakly. “I’d like to bum around for a little longer.”

His friend obviously understood completely.

“Do you want me to bring you some food?” He asked smartly.

Vesper nodded slowly. Hungry, yes, he was definitely hungry.

“But wait...” he said, seeing Nidor get up from his place. “Take me to the hall with you. The lord and everyone are probably there, right?”

The other rolled his eyes in pretend grievance.

“Wow, you have some demands,” he said. “Now you want entertainment. I don’t know if I can drag you all the way there... but I’ll call the new guy, he can help.” He became silent, giving the order in his mind.

“The recruit got in?” Vesper was surprised. “And he woke up? Already?”

“Nah. Lord Ultor decided that dweeb is totally unsuited to be a nighter, at least for now,” the captain explained. “But since he’s promising, and since what happened, happened, he can stay here for some time. Maybe he’ll straighten out. He’s not gonna go anywhere anyway.” He smiled knowingly. “Ultor liked your Tylenol idea very much. You really got the kid worked up.”

Vesper nodded.

“And does the interested party know about it already?” he asked with interest. “That it’s all bull?”

“For now, we left it the way it was. He gets saline injections every twelve hours,” Nidor said. “He panics terribly when injection time comes, and asks whoever he can not to forget him. We wanted to switch to a twenty-four hour system, because it’s damn annoying, poking him all the time. But he got stubborn and said you needed to approve that twenty-four-hour switch, otherwise he won’t risk it. He obviously considers you some big fish, I don’t know why...” He shook his head, laughing lightly.

“What about Crumbly?” Vesper asked worriedly. “Are we going to take him to us? To the Night?”

Nidor sighed silently.

“I don’t know,” he said. “The lord will decide that. For now, we’ve put the man in the guest room. He can lay there and get better. And then, well... we’ll see.”

A quiet knock came at the door. Then it came again.

“Enter,” Nidor barked sharply.

The recruit straightened at the threshold before the officer.

“I report for duty, Captain!” he said with clear respect.

“The nighter needs to be moved to the TV hall,” Nidor stated solemnly. “But carefully. We’ll do it together.”

“Yes, sir!” the kid said, staring at Vesper shyly.

Worship and admiration reflected in his eyes. And—a little bit—fear.

***

When Ultor appeared at the hall’s door, all the nighters got up. Even Vesper tried to lift himself somewhat. Only the praetorians stayed in their chairs, watching the others with slight amusement.

“Sit,” the lord said.

He walked up to the bar, and poured himself a glass of blood. He faced the gathering. The nighters followed his every move tensely.

“And stop jumping up every time you see me,” he said with a sigh. “You’ll have to get used to my presence. I’m moving here for some time, until the situation calms down. The praetorians already have their orders. They already know English, which many of you also know, and they’ll start to learn Polish intensively; I hope you will help them with that.” He glanced around, meeting approving stares. He stood at the bar for a while, sipping blood from the glass. Suddenly he became serious, putting the glass on the counter.

“We have some reorganization to do” he stated. “We haven’t found Captain Umens yet. Captain Clam is dead. We need to fill up the ranks. Alacer becomes the new captain.” He nodded toward the nighter. “Congratulations.”

The promoted nighter bowed silently before the lord. The others nodded again. Lord Ultor still stood in place, observing the gathered nighters and praetorians. They watched him expectantly. This didn’t seem like all he had to say to them.

“The bodies of three dead Anti-Terrorists disappeared from the morgue,” Ultor announced slowly.

An astonished murmur passed through the room.

“The renegades stole them?” Alacer asked immediately. “But why, what for?”

Vesper felt a cold shiver take over his body. The feeling, that damn feeling again...

“They didn’t steal their bodies” he choked out suddenly through clenched teeth. “They... recruited them. Three days ago.”

All heads turned toward him. Ultor walked to him with a heavy, tired step.

“I think so too,” he said. “You were there for a while... do you have any idea how it could happen?”

The nighter shook his head, heaving heavily. He was swathed by that strange feeling again, as if some reality wanted to push itself into his head, and he was afraid to let it in. He wanted to find out, very much, but at the same time, some part of him tirelessly pushed it away.

“Easy, Vesper,” The lord said gently. “You know what happened there, you felt it the whole time. Don’t be afraid, it’s not your fault. You couldn’t prevent it in any way.”

The nighter shivered more, and tears swelled into his eyes. He blinked rapidly.

“The nurse,” he said suddenly, his lips trembling. “She walked up to them, killed them, gave them blood with the symbiont. And then left, as if nothing had happened. Like the angel of death... Mulier amicta sole.”

Ultor’s face tensed suddenly in a very odd expression.

“What did you say?” he whispered. “Why did you say it that way?”

A wave of weakness swept over the nighter. He stopped trembling, his head falling loosely on his shoulder, eyes staring into the ceiling.

“I saw her,” he said slowly. “She walked down the hall with a tray full of blood... Their blood. The sun shone from behind her, like it was surrounding her with its glow. Maybe that’s why those words came to my mind now: a woman swathed in sun, mulier amicta sole.”

Ultor nodded slowly.

“Et signum magnum paruit in caelo,” he whispered. “Mulier amicta sole.”

He sat in a chair opposite Vesper and closed his eyes.

“Et luna sub pedibus eius,” he kept speaking in a voice permeated with sadness. “Et in capite eius corona stellarum duodecim.” He hid his face in his hands and became silent.

Silence fell. Only the wind hit the windows, pulling out a silent moan from them.

“Apocalypsis Johannis,” Nidor said finally.

“Domine.” Vesper added, raising his head shyly.

Ultor pulled himself together. He lowered his hands and put them on his knees. He glanced around at the praetorians and nighters surrounding him.

“Yes, it’s the Apocalypse,” he stated in an even, strong voice. “Aranea’s favorite part.”

“What did it mean?” The recruit asked Nidor quietly. “I don’t know a word in Latin.”

“And a great miracle appeared in the sky: a woman swathed in the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head, a crown of twelve stars,” the other explained in a weary voice. “St. John’s Revelations, chapter twelve, first verse.”

“You saw her there?” Ultor asked, staring at Vesper. “How did she look?”

The nighter furrowed his brows in concentration.

“Hard to tell exactly, she wore hospital clothes after all, and had a scarf on her head,” he said uncertainly. “I didn’t pay attention until she looked at me. She had beautiful eyes. And terrible, like a storm. But I thought she was just a regular woman, there was nothing of us in her...”

“It could have been her,” the lord said. “She can hide, an even better hider than our Nidor. And she’s beautiful, very beautiful...” He broke off for a moment, diving deep into his thoughts.

The nighters stared at both of them worriedly.

“Enough for today,” Ultor said finally. “It’s nearly dawn, go sleep. Only the guard stays. The rest of you, to your quarters. Go!”

A slight murmur sounded across the room. The nighters got up from their spots, staring uncertainly at Ultor. The major wasn’t an easy commander, but living with Lord Ultor under one roof could be even more difficult... They filed toward the door momentarily.

Nidor and the recruit leaned over Vesper, lifting him off the couch.

“He stays,” The Lord said simply,

The others glanced at him briefly, then bowed, letting go of their colleague and joining the others. The hall emptied.

Vesper looked at the Lord with a slight tremble. Why... why like this?

“I have a small request,” the Lord said slowly. “I’d like to... look at her.”

Nighter ran his tongue over his lips, then shook his head, clearly not understanding. Look? How?

“Through your thoughts, if you allow me,” the other explained. “I’ll look at those moments in your memory. Then I’ll see her too.”

Vesper relaxed. Then nodded with a smile. “Of course, my lord,” he answered brightly. “Of course. Please have a look.”

Lord Ultor’s eyes pierced him immediately, paralyzing him completely. Vesper felt himself stiffen; he couldn’t even twitch, unable to look away from those burning eyes...

Suddenly a wave of violent feeling rolled over him, the strangest mix of pain, longing, and desire. It took over him all the way to the bone marrow, it seemed like he ceased to exist, that he was just this one dominating feeling. He began to tremble, as if every muscle fiber tensed and yelled out in protest. Some weight sat on his chest, his throat tightened, and his head fell loosely. The world around spun, then began to immerse in darkness.

“Thank you,” Ultor said, freeing him from his stare. “Thank you so much.”

Vesper inhaled with a rapid wheeze. He began to pant heavily. Saliva rolled down from the corner of his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Lord Ultor said, somewhat flustered. “I think I was there too long. I forgot how weak you are. I’m sorry.”

The nighter raised his head, tried to smile. He didn’t manage it. He still gasped for air with difficulty.

“It’s all right, my lord,” he gasped, wiping his mouth with his hand. “That’s her? I really saw... Renegades’ Lady?”

Ultor nodded slowly.

“Yes, that was Aranea,” he confirmed with a sigh. “Yes. She’s probably the only one with such wild eyes...” he broke off suddenly.

Not necessarily just her, the thought ran through Vesper’s mind.

That intern had very similar eyes, when she was falling down. Because of him, because he was the one who made that decision and sentenced her to death.

He shrugged the thought off immediately. He did what he had to, his assignment. He was supposed to protect Crumbly. And he did it as best as he could. He couldn’t worry so much about everyone around, or he’d go nuts. And he was on his way to it anyway.

They both turned at the sound of an opening door. Praetorians entered the hall, leading Umens, who carried Maria’s motionless body.

“He wanted to see you, my lord,” Celer said, nodding briefly at the nighter. “He came alone, without weapons...”

Ultor got up, and motioned invitingly with his hand.

“Come in,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he added, staring straight at the captain.

The man took a few steps toward him.

“I brought her, my lord,” he said in trembling voice. “I wanted to ask for her to lie here, with our guys. She didn’t wake up, so...” he broke off, and a few tears rolled down his face.

Lord Ultor nodded, not saying anything. Umens put Maria on the floor, kneeled next to her, and stared at her with eyes insane from pain.

“I killed her,” he choked out. “You told me to wait, my lord. But I couldn’t wait, not anymore. I was so afraid she would die, like a human. And wouldn’t wake anymore. And I wanted for us to be finally together...” he broke off, and a sob tightened his throat.

“You would have waited,” Ultor said softly, kneeling next to him. “You loved her, you would have waited as long as it took. It wasn’t your fault you broke down. It was that contaminated blood’s fault. You drank it, and you weren’t yourself anymore, understand that.”

“Contaminated blood?” the other asked, not understanding. “Who, how?”

“We suspect it was Staszek,” the lord replied. “He’d wanted to be a nighter for a while. I believed that he just wasn’t suited for it. If the renegades promised to accept him into their ranks...” he broke off on a sigh. “We’ll find out soon, if we find him on the other side...” He shook his head and continued, “We’ll have no mercy. But you’re not guilty of anything,” he repeated strongly. “You weren’t yourself, you understand?”

“It doesn’t matter, my lord,” the captain said, shaking his head back and forth. “It just doesn’t matter. Maybe I wasn’t myself, think what you want. But maybe then I was myself the most, maybe this whole civilized, nice nighter cover is just an illusion. And I don’t want to be the way I’m supposed to be anymore. I don’t want myself anymore, you understand? After all, everything we do here is one big lie!” He raised his gaze and stared at Ultor. “Your lie, my lord. You know that well!” His eyes fired up with fury and desperation, his hand clenched into a fist.

Just like a well-trained dog, Celer reacted immediately to the danger appearing near his lord. He took out a military knife swiftly, and put the blade up to the nighter’s throat.

“No silly moves,” he warned him seriously.

“Thank you,” Umens whispered in relief.

And in a sudden move, he leaned forward.

The sharp blade entered the body like butter. It crunched at the spine momentarily, cutting through the spinal cord. It stopped then, pouring out a stream of blood.

The praetorian screamed and jumped to the side, jerking the knife out. Umens’ body fell motionlessly forward. The head, not quite severed yet, swung to the side.

“Finish him,” the Lord said through paled lips, standing up. “Now.”

Celer leaned down obediently. He cut off the captain’s head with shaking hands, and threw it at the feet. He stood up, staring frightened at Ultor, who wiped the blood off his face in a slow motion.

“My lord, I...” he mumbled in shock. “I just... I...”

“Yes, I know,” The Lord Warrior said in a numb voice. “I know.”

He glanced down at the bodies prostrated in front of him. But he didn’t say a word.

He finally glanced at Vesper, sitting motionless, cowered on the couch.

“Go get some sleep, nighter,” he said slowly. “You are no use here, you’re still too weak. We’ll clean up ourselves.” He motioned with his head at one of the praetorians. “Acies, help him get to his room.”

Acies walked up to his colleague, and extended a helping hand to him. Vesper grabbed it and pulled himself up with great effort.

“Yes, my lord,” he said obediently, trying not to look at the bodies stretched on the floor in a pool of red. “I’ll go sleep now. Yes, sir.”

Ultor nodded silently.

Vesper leaned on Acies, pattering to the door with him. He forced himself to control his lips from trembling and tears from making their way to his eyes. He felt weak, tired, and exhausted like never before. He was so done with all of this... this constantly reoccurring pain, constant hunger, and blood everywhere.

But he wouldn’t cry in front of the lord and his praetorians.

Maybe in his room.

But definitely not here.

Take a little walk to the edge of town

Go across the tracks

Where the viaduct looms,

like a bird of doom

As it shifts and cracks

Where secrets lie in the border fires,

in the humming wires

Hey man, you know

you’re never coming back

Past the squares, past the bridge,

past the mills, past the stacks

On a gathering storm comes

a tall handsome man

In a dusty black coat with

a red right hand

He’ll wrap you in his arms,

tell you that you’ve been a good boy

He’ll rekindle all those dreams

it took you a lifetime to destroy

He’ll reach deep into the hole,

heal your shrinking soul

But there won’t be

a single thing that you could do

He’s a ghost, he’s a god,

he’s a man, he’s a guru

They’re whispering his name

across the disappearing land

But hidden in his coat

is a red right hand

Your aunt got no money? He’ll get you some

You ain’t got no car? He’ll get you one

You ain’t got no self-respect,

you feel like an insect

Well don’t you worry buddy,

cause here he comes

Through the ghetto and the barrio

and the bowery and the slum

A shadow is cast wherever he stands

Stacks of green paper in his

red right hand

You’ll see him in your nightmares

you’ll see him in your Dreams

He’ll appear out of nowhere

but he ain’t what he seems

You’ll see him in your head,

on the TV screen

And hey buddy,

I’m warning you to turn it off

He’s a ghost, he’s a god,

he’s a man, he’s a guru

You’re one microscopic cog

in his catastrophic plan

Designed and directed

by his red right hand

Nick Cave, “Red Right Hand”