The Operators rose as one, and applauded their Interim Director.
Cal Holmwood stood where he was, a quiet, determined smile on his face, as the first of the black figures made their way through the door, and out into the Loop.
Jamie, Larissa, Kate and Matt stood outside Interim Director Holmwood’s quarters, waiting to be called inside.
They had gathered in Jamie’s room after the briefing had ended, their excitement at Cal Holmwood’s words tempered by Kate’s grief over the death of Shaun Turner. She had sat on Jamie’s bed, able to talk, and even laugh with the rest of them, but there was something unmistakably different about her, something altered from the girl she had been the previous day.
Jamie, Larissa and Matt all knew loss; they had left behind friends and loved ones as their lives had taken the twists and turns that had led them to where they found themselves, some of which had been voluntary, some of which had been thrust upon them, without warning.
But only Jamie was intimately acquainted with what Kate was going through; in the days after his father had been killed, he had found himself entirely at the mercy of his own unpredictable, unreliable emotions. One minute he had been his usual self, able to talk coherently to his equally devastated mother, the next he found
himself in a fit of absolutely uncontrollable sobbing, which was far beyond his power to stop.
What was worse, though, was the way his own brain, conditioned by the social protocols of death, and grief, had responded to his emotions; when he was able to function, his brain had chastised him for being able to do so, accusing him of not having loved his father, because any son whose father died shouldn’t be able to talk to their neighbour about the weather, or the Arsenal result. But when his emotions overcame him, when he cried, and sobbed, and wailed, sometimes for hours on end, his brain told him to stop being pathetic, that he was embarrassing his dad, who would never have wanted to see his son like this. It was an uncertain torment, and the only thing that fixed it was the passage of time.
Jamie looked at Kate, and knew there was nothing he could really say to her that would make any difference; all he, and Larissa, and Matt, could do was be there for her when she needed them, and wait for time to heal her wounds.
The four of them had discussed the implications of Cal Holmwood’s speech; it had been less a briefing and more a call to arms, a declaration of war on Valeri and on Dracula, and the four young Operators were ready to lead the charge if asked, which they hoped they would be. Larissa and Kate had told Jamie and Matt about the attack on the Loop, Larissa steering the tale away from what had happened to Shaun; there was no need for Kate to actively relive that terrible moment, even though the vampire girl was sure it was playing incessantly inside her friend’s head.
Larissa described the fight between Valeri and Valentin, trying to articulate the sheer power that had been on display, the ancient, unstoppable power; she had felt like an insect as she watched them, like a Greek hero standing beneath two warring gods. She explained
how Valentin had tried to help her, had fed her his blood, noticing the colour rise in Jamie’s cheeks as she did so. Then Jamie had told the other three what had happened in Paris.
He had considered leaving out certain parts of the story; he was extremely aware, in the cold light of day, that some of his behaviour had been at best reckless, at worst unacceptable. But in the end, he told them the whole story. When he was finished, he asked them if they wanted to come with him to check on Frankenstein, but before they got the chance to reply, their consoles burst into life, summoning them to Cal Holmwood’s quarters.
“You can go in,” said the Operator stationed outside the Interim Director’s room.
Jamie nodded, and pushed the door open. The room beyond was far smaller than Admiral Seward’s quarters; it was, in truth, barely bigger than his own. Cal Holmwood sat behind his desk, a vast mountain of files, boxes and reports teetering on its wooden surface. He looked up as they entered.
“Come in,” he said, then leant back in his chair and looked at them as they arranged themselves in a line before his desk. “Kate,” he said, softly. “I’m very sorry about Shaun Turner. I know the two of you were friends.”
It was clear from the Interim Director’s face that he knew they had been more than that, but also that he had no intention of embarrassing Kate by letting her know she had been breaking one of Blacklight’s fundamental rules. Jamie felt a rush of gratitude towards the man behind the desk.
“Thank you, sir,” replied Kate. Her face crumpled momentarily, but she held it together, and Holmwood nodded.
“Until yesterday,” he continued, “there were almost two hundred
Operators on the roster of this Department. All of them highly skilled, experienced men and women, the very best of the very best. And yet, it always seems to be the three of you at the centre of everything. The
four
of you, in fact, given the events of last night. I wonder why that is?”
“Bad luck, sir?” suggested Jamie.
Holmwood grinned at him. “Perhaps, Mr Carpenter. Perhaps. For whatever reason, the four of you were intimately involved in everything that happened last night, both here, and in Paris. For that reason, I’m going to tell you certain things that I’m not telling the majority of your colleagues. I’m hoping I’m right to trust you?”
Jamie, Larissa and Kate exchanged a quick glance, a half-smile that contained a thousand unsaid words.
“Yes, sir,” replied Jamie. “I think I speak for all of us, sir.”
“Good,” replied the Interim Director. “The first thing I should tell you is that as a result of my own observations, and a series of recommendations that have been made to me this morning, I am proposing all four of you for the Order of Gallantry, Second Class. In different ways, your behaviour and conduct last night was in keeping with the very highest standards of this Department, and did not go unnoticed. There will be a ceremony in due course, but I thought you should know now.”
Jamie felt himself sway on his feet; he looked at his three friends, and felt a surge of love for the boy and the two girls standing beside him.
“Thank you, sir,” said Larissa, proudly.
“Thank you, sir,” said Kate, her eyes shining fiercely.
“Thank you, sir,” said Jamie.
“But…” said Matt. “I didn’t do anything, sir. Jamie almost got killed coming to find me. I don’t deserve a medal.”
“Mr Browning,” said Holmwood, kindly. “The CCTV logs showed me what you said to Lieutenant Carpenter when he entered the Lazarus Project laboratory, when you had Professor Talbot’s gun to your head. Not ‘Help me’ or ‘Run’, but ‘Shoot him’. Your concern for your own safety was secondary to your desire to see an enemy of this Department apprehended. You should be very proud of yourself today, Mr Browning.”
Matt blushed, and looked studiously at the ground.
“On that subject,” continued the Interim Director, “we have begun analysis of the hard drive that was recovered from the late Professor Talbot. Mr Browning, I understand you will be joining the combined Intelligence and Science Division analysis team later on today, is that correct?”
“I think so, sir,” said Matt. Excitement suddenly bloomed on his face, as he thought about the prospect of getting his hands on the data contained on the hard drive.
“Good,” said Holmwood. “You are very probably the only currently serving member of this Department who is able to understand the recovered data. But the provisional analysis does support a preliminary conclusion – the motive behind Professor Talbot’s work.”
Jamie felt cold spill through him.
“He wasn’t working on a cure,” he said, softly, “was he?”
“He was,” said Holmwood. “But not a cure for vampirism. A cure
for
vampires.”
“What do you mean, sir?” asked Larissa, instantly.
“A cure to be used by vampires,” explained the Interim Director. “A genetic fix for their weaknesses: vulnerability to sunlight, susceptibility to the hunger. Everything. He was trying to perfect the vampire condition, not cure it.”
“But why didn’t Dr Yen or anyone else stop him?” asked Matt.
“The research required was the same,” said Holmwood. “The mapping of the vampire genome, the understanding of the viral patterns, the ability to interrupt and overwrite the vampire DNA – everything he would need to search for a cure. He just had no intention of using it for that purpose. There was no way the Lazarus staff could have known what he was planning.”
“Those poor people,” said Matt, softly, his voice choked with emotion. “They thought they were helping make the world better.”
“They were,” said Holmwood. “Their work will be invaluable as we take the project forward. Everything they did has brought us closer to a cure than we’ve ever been. Their deaths need not have been in vain; we have their work, thanks to you and Lieutenant Carpenter.”
Jamie smiled and glanced at his friend; Matt returned his smile with one so full of emotion that Jamie had to look away, before the lump that had appeared in his chest was able to climb into his throat.
“We are not yet able to conclusively prove,” said Holmwood, “that Professor Talbot provided the information that allowed Valeri to launch his surprise attack on the Loop. But we expect to have that proof soon, together with proof that he has been working for Valeri Rusmanov his entire life. We have documents coming in from NS9 and the SPC that should conclusively prove it.”
“It’s a shame we didn’t have those documents already,” said Kate, her voice low. “We might have been able to stop this before it happened.”
“Miss Randall,” said Holmwood, solemnly, “I could not agree with you more. There is a huge amount we need to learn from what has happened, as you heard me say this morning; not least
of which is that the Departments of the world need to begin to trust one another in deeds, not just in words. If we had shared information freely, it’s possible we could have prevented any of this from happening; that cannot ever be allowed to happen again.”
“That’s not going to bring Major Turner his son back, though, is it, sir?”
“No,” replied Holmwood. “I’m afraid it is not.”
There was a moment’s silence, then the Interim Director continued.
“Mr Browning, we are also expecting, once a thorough forensic analysis of the Blacklight mainframe is complete, to be able to prove that Professor Talbot alerted Valeri or one of his subordinates when you made the emergency call that attracted our attention. It seems one of his responsibilities was alerting his master to anything that might have exposed vampires to public attention. This is useful information, as it suggests that Valeri has an interest in keeping the existence of his kind a secret, at least for now. A small mercy, I know.”
Matt nodded his head. There was a tight expression on his pale face; for a brief moment, he had been back in the darkly lit park, watching the smiling vampires approach him, and the memory had turned his insides to water.
“Mr Carpenter,” said Holmwood. “The whole of Department 19 owes you a debt of gratitude for the return of Colonel Frankenstein. I shall await your report with great interest.”
“It wasn’t just me,” protested Jamie, immediately. “It was Jack, and Angela, and Claire and Dominique as well, sir. They were incredible.”
“I’m sure they were,” replied Holmwood. “Nonetheless, it was your mission, that you petitioned Admiral Seward for permission to run, and which you led. So take a little credit, son, especially when it’s deserved.”
The Interim Director smiled at Jamie, who felt heat rise in his cheeks.
“There is more to be said,” continued Holmwood. “And there will be time to say it later. But what barely needs saying is that we were hurt last night, ladies and gentlemen, hurt badly. And before we can even think about engaging Valeri Rusmanov and his master, or trying to rescue Henry Seward, I need to get this Department back on its feet, starting immediately. So I have news for all four of you, both good and bad.”
Jamie looked along the line of his friends; he had a sudden urge to take Larissa’s hand, and tell her to take Matt’s, and tell him to take Kate’s, but he resisted.
“Mr Browning,” said Cal Holmwood. “You are hereby placed in interim charge of the Lazarus Project.” A gasp emerged from Matt’s throat, and his face flushed a deep crimson. “You are to liaise with the Intelligence and Science Divisions to restaff and resupply the Project, and you are to get it up and running again as soon as possible. At that point, you will hand the Project over to a suitably experienced successor to Professor Talbot. Do you understand?”
“I can’t do that,” spluttered Matt. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“If I thought that was true,” said Holmwood, “I would not have suggested you do it. You understand the science, and you are, as of this moment, a full member of this Department. You are the only choice; Lazarus is too important to be allowed to fail.”
“You can do this,” said Jamie, looking calmly at his friend, who was staring wildly around the room, looking anywhere but at Cal Holmwood’s face. “You know you can.”
“I
don’t
know that,” said Matt.
“Then you do your best,” said Larissa. “For me, and for Jamie’s mum, and for every other vampire who wishes they weren’t. OK?”
Matt swallowed hard, and nodded.
“Good,” said Holmwood. “There are copies of the recovered hard drive waiting in your quarters; I will expect your preliminary recommendations, staff numbers, equipment requirements, that sort of thing, first thing tomorrow. Clear?”
“Yes, sir,” said Matt, his eyes widening.
“Miss Kinley, Miss Randall,” said Holmwood. “You are hereby both promoted to Lieutenant, and your security clearances are upgraded to Noble, the same as my own, or Director Seward’s. Mr Carpenter, the same clearance upgrade applies to you. Congratulations to you all.”
There was silence for a long moment; the three Operators were quite literally speechless. Jamie’s mind was racing with incomprehension, even as he felt a smile begin to creep involuntarily on to his face. He turned his head, incredibly slowly, and looked at Kate and Larissa. Kate’s mouth had popped open into a perfect little circle, and Jamie had to fight back laughter when he saw it. Larissa was staring at the Interim Director, as though she didn’t quite believe what she had heard him say.