Stardust and Bloodlust pt. 2

The grand promenade of Coriolis was one of those rare areas where efficient use of space was compromised and the ceilings were higher than the bare minimum needed to keep most people from hitting their heads on ceiling-mounted pipes. Instead, it was the equivalent of three storeys high, and wide enough to accommodate actual tables set up 'outside', some complete with symbolic and completely pointless parasols.

On either side of the promenade were the station's most fashionable cafes, and a scattering of expensive shops. Overhead was the main attraction. The entire ceiling of the promenade, which was no less than three hundred metres long, was made of glass. This provided an excellent view on a gently rotating range of stars, and for a limited time every day; the earth or the sun. Mordechai avoided sun-times, on principle.

Late afternoon, station time, showed only stars. The promenade was in full business, though not particularly busy. For a good part of the station's population, the workday was not yet over. This meant that most of the promenade's patrons were teenagers, stay-at-home parents, or those with a day off. More than a few of which noticed Mordechai.

He was drinking a cup of coffee at the most snobbishly stylish cafe. The coffee was not at all bad, and although Mordechai could appreciate the flavour, he felt it was rather wasted on him. It would sit in his stomach uselessly until its component parts made their way out of his body, more trouble than they were worth.

Opposite him, on the same tiny table, was Clancy. When they had arrived, he had seemed nervous. Mordechai had invited him to this cafe, explicitly, and it was clear that the self-described journalist had no idea how to handle coffee that came with a tiny glass of water. Once he'd gotten out his laptop, however, the story had changed.

“Do you see that?” Clancy asked, swiveling the screen around and pointing.

Mordechai glanced at it. “Yes?” he said.

“Isn't that amazing?” Clancy said and picked up his tiny cup of coffee. “Someone who broke free from an actual secret organisation. Look at what they've written, it's actually,” he gestured with his free hand, “I mean this is pretty groundbreaking. I've been looking into shadow organisations for years but the only way you can get some actual progress with stuff like that is if someone steps forward. They're locked so tight. Now this person here is claiming they've been keeping some very dangerous information to themselves, right?”

Mordechai smiled. The man was completely obsessed. It was interesting to see him brighten up from his socially awkward self, however. It was as if all that life energy was stoppered up just beneath the surface, and the cork blew the second there was some unlikely conspiracy on the horizon.

He took another sip and licked his lips. Soon, he would have to decide how to move forward with the Clancy Thing. Cynthia was starting to tease him about his little dates.

It had been a few weeks since the opening of Lonely Constellations: the Opera, and between performing twice every day for two weeks, dealing with the media and faithfully attending afterparties (except for that first night), he had only managed to rope Clancy into meeting him once. This coffee thing was the second time, and things weren't moving nearly as quickly as Mordechai had hoped. Perhaps Clancy was just shy. Maybe, Mordechai thought, he'd have to dress up as a conspiracy to make him loosen up.

“They're even saying there are some really well-known who are a public risk,” Clancy continued. He lowered his voice to a whisper: “She even mentioned vampires.” He snorted, clearly dismissing the idea. “I wonder who she means, but I wouldn't be surprised if it were Tom Stone. There is no way all that money he has is from his medicine research and anyway, everyone knows he's stolen his biggest breakthrough.

“And look here,” he pointed at the screen again, and scrolled down, “down the thread people are asking her where she's from, you know, trying to get some sort of authority to back her up. And look what she says.”

Mordechai glanced again. He blinked and took a closer look. “The Templars?” He scrolled up the page again, and there it was: a proclamation that someone important and powerful was a vampire, and she was going to take care of it. There was even something along the lines of 'they didn't believe me then, but we'll see who has the last laugh'.

Clancy actually shivered with excitement. “Yes! Isn't that amazing? Even I didn't believe they were still actually around! What do you think, is there any truth to this?” Clancy looked to Mordechai, solemnly.

Mordechai leaned in. “Actually,” he said, quietly, and smiled. “I think there might be. Do you want to find out?”

“What, now?” said Clancy.

Mordechai could see he was flushed slightly, probably from the excitement of uncovering dread secrets. “Yes,” he said. “Right now. I'll get the bill.”

Inside, Mordechai fished out his phone and called Cynthia.

“I'm going to hunt a runaway Templar,” he told her. “Be ready to send backup. I'm sure I won't need it, but our puppy is tagging along.”

“What?” answered Cynthia. “Templars? You mean like the medieval knights?”

Mordechai picked at the collar of his coat. One of the rhinestones was scuffed, he'd have to get Adam to fix that. “No of course not, how gullible do you think I am? These Templars are only about seventy years old, christian hippie types who think they somehow hold all the secrets to the supernatural world.”

“If they're such pushovers, why are you hunting them?”

“Because some of them know who I am,” he said. “It's really regrettable, and quite a long story, but in a nutshell, it was easier to make them think they'd defeated me at the time. They were menacing me with crosses, of all things. Made of silver.” Mordechai chuckled and rubbed his silver rings. “Secrets of the supernatural world, indeed. In any case, they still have the files and now some radical individual splintered off and has started to connect the dots.”

There was a clank of glass on glass on the other side of the line. “Why didn't you just kill them?” Cynthia said, clearly annoyed.

“I wasn't in a position to do that.”

“Well,” she said, “maybe you should do that now.”

Mordechai hung up.

Outside, Clancy was packed up and waiting. Mordechai set off down the promenade, and Clancy followed. They took a sharp right before it ended in an intersection, and stepped into a lift. Mordechai jabbed the button.

“Er,” Clancy said after a moment, “where are we going?”

“To the station's main archives,” Mordechai said.

“Er,” Clancy repeated, “why?”

Mordechai grinned, though not quite too widely. “Because she will be looking for evidence.”

Clancy frowned at him. “Of what?”

“Everyone on the station is registered,” said Mordechai and stepped out of the elevator. “If she's looking for a vampire, that will leave traces in the records.”

Clancy's face lit up instantly. “Of course,” he said and followed Mordechai.

They crossed a set of corridors and went down some more levels, bypassing an agricultural centre where a stacked field of grain stood behind unfiltered glass, ripening under daylight simulating lamps. The main archives were at what was colloquially known as the ass-end of the station. It was the underside, as far as the internal structure of the station was concerned, and it was quite close to the loading bays.

It took them just over half an hour to reach the place, and by the time they had arrived, the archives had closed up for the evening. This, however, turned out not to be a problem, as they found a door, suspiciously ajar.

They slipped inside, Clancy with a surprising amount of stealth, even looking up to spot any cameras. As this was a digital archive, and not too high on the subsidies list, there were only a few.

“Do you see that?” asked Clancy and pointed towards a brighter glow in the dimly lit archive.

“Yes,” hissed Mordechai and moved in for the kill, Clancy trailing behind him. He stepped into the field of vision of the woman sitting on the floor, her laptop plugged into one of the archive's computers. “You don't know me,” he said nonchelantly, and threw in a dose of glamour. She stared at him, mouth open as if to say something, and brushed her brown hair from her face.

“I don't know you,” she breathed.

“But I've read about you,” continued Mordechai.

“Oh,” she said, “on that forum? I thought no one would believe me.”

“I do,” said Clancy, “really.” He was smiling again, looking at the woman on the floor as if she were a mermaid.

“Do you think we could talk with you?” Mordechai asked. “While we walked, maybe. If we get caught in here, well.” He smiled. Clancy laughed nervously.

“I suppose,” said the woman, without hesitation, and picked up her laptop.

“I'm Clancy,” Clancy blurted out.

She glanced at him, without smiling. “Laura,” she said. “I'll have to come back here, you know. I'm not done yet.”

“What were you looking for?” Clancy asked while Mordechai silently led their way back outside.

“Birth certificates,” said Laura. “And death certificates.

“Ooh,” said Clancy.

“This way, I think,” said Mordechai, and: “For discrepancies?”

“That's right!” she said, and jogged a few steps to keep up with him. “Look, are you two just playing at this? I know that it sounds completely unreasonable.” For a moment she looked as if she wondered why she was trusting them so easily, but the moment passed, the thought subtly buried in her mind. She didn't even know she was being manipulated.

“No, I do!” said Clancy, ever enthusiastic. “I mean, the vampire thing sounds far-fetched, but I've seen stranger things.”

She nodded and said: “They never believed me. The Templars, I mean. They know vampires exist, but this...” There was a moment of angry silence as they turned a corner.

“Did you find something?” asked Mordechai.

Laura nodded again. “There are files on a vampire that was killed about fifty years ago. Only I think he's not really dead, but he faked it. He's on this station, but they won't do anything because the file says he's definitely dead,” she growled.

Clancy nodded sagely. “Well, we all know how wrong official files can be.”

“They really didn't believe you?” asked Mordechai, as they stepped into an elevator.

She shook her head. “To be honest, they really doubt that those files are true. You know, vampires, freaky powers. I mean, dude. It's far-fetched.”

“Definitely,” said Mordechai. “But what if it is true?”

“Exactly!” said Clancy, gesturing wildly. “Imagine, a vampire sitting around in the station. How amazing would that be?” At a worried look from Laura, he added: “Amazing in the original sense of the word, I mean. Awe-inspiring. Completely incredible.”

“And terrifying,” she said. “This guy has a lot of power, I'm going to have to be careful when I go after him.”

“Who is he?” Clancy asked eagerly. “You never said on the thread.”

“Are you actually going after him?” interrupted Mordechai.

Laura glanced from one man to the other, trying to decide who to answer. She chose the man with the sparklier coat. “Yes, I am. I'm going to make sure there will be no more blood-sucking on this station.”

“That's amazing,” whispered Clancy.

They rounded a corner and Mordechai jabbed at a touchpad. He held the door opened and turned, mock-surprised. “Clancy,” he said, “did you hear that? I don't suppose you could have a look, what id we're being followed?” Clancy, absorbed in the plausible lie, immediately turned back.

With no other eyes on him, Mordechai nudged Laura and she stepped inside, turning. “You've got to keep this a secret,” she said. “They'll put me away if this gets out. I mean, the internet, it's fine to say weird stuff on there, but hunting vampires in the real world? I could get in real trouble.”

“No problem,” said Mordechai, smiling, before he closed the door. Laura's face was confused through the little round window. He returned to the touchpad and stared at it for a moment. Then, he jabbed in a series of commands from memory, hoping he was remembering correctly as he'd never manage to figure out the override himself. He was lucky that Gwen, another of his minions, had found the loophole. Her teaching it to him wasn't luck, that was just good planning.

“What are you doing?” asked Clancy, slightly worried.

Mordechai looked up to find Clancy unexpectedly turned back to him. That was unfortunate. “Something has locked the door,” he said grimly. “I knew we were being followed.”

He slowly let go of Laura, who started to panic behind the thick door. She at least had an excuse for not noticing just how thick that does was; nearly half a metre, but Clancy hadn't noticed it either. Nor had he noticed the partitioning door behind them, ready to slam shut in case of decompression.

Behind Laura, lights started flashing and the wall started to move. Slowly, it opened up, revealing a sliver of black. Laura started pounding on the glass soundlessly, her mouth wide open. Clancy took a step back. His eyes were wide in shock.

Mordechai watched as Laura's hair whipped in the wind of decompression, in the moment before she was sucked outside into the darkness of space.

There was a muffled sound behind him and he turned. Clancy looked at him with pure horror, and then he turned and ran.

“Oh, shit,” Mordechai muttered, and closed up the docking bay. He fished his phone from an inside pocket and called Gwen.

“I just opened a docking bay,” he said, “make it look like it was opened from the inside.” Without waiting for a reply, he hung up. Alone in the corridor, he fumed. He had been counting on Clancy to swallow the theory that some mysterious pursuer was working against him. He had hoped this would be enough to distract him until there was nothing left to see. Clancy's curiosity had won, however, and Mordechai had not considered that the man might find it distressing to see another human die. With a little bad luck, Clancy might even suspect Mordechai of being involved, or of being an actual murderer. The fact that he was, was completely irrelevant.

This was going to make courting a lot more difficult.