The Legacy of Lehr (13 page)

She sat up at that, long enough to shake a tiny, rose-colored tablet from a dispenser in her desk drawer. Then she laid her head against the back of her chair and slipped the tablet under her tongue. She could feel it taking effect as the one-minute warning vibrated through the ship; she relaxed and let the medication do its work, wondering idly what it would be like to jump unmedicated—wondering how Wallis Hamilton managed it with no ill effects whatsoever. So absorbed was she in her speculation that the jump itself passed almost unnoticed.

She dozed afterward—she could not remember later whether she had dreamed or not—but she awoke fretting about what the Setons had said regarding vampires, and the thought continued to plague her as she tried to finish the day's entries in her medical log. An orderly brought a tray with dinner, and she poked at the food for a while, but she was not hungry, despite the day's exhaustion. Major Barding floated in for his pain medication and was again in high spirits, once the drugs began to take effect. But Shannon sent him on his way far more brusquely than she had intended. Twice she started to request information from the library banks; twice canceled the request. Finally, when Deller came to relieve her, she cleared the board altogether and went back to her cabin to try to sleep.

But sleep would not come, despite all her efforts to drop off. Finally, feeling annoyed with herself and quite foolish, she got out of bed and padded over to the library terminal on her desk. The only illumination was the single tally light on the intercom unit beside the terminal. She stared at that for several minutes before finally reaching out to touch the query button.

The keyboard lit up and the display screen glowed a soft green, casting an eerie pallor on her face and hands. Slowly, and feeling even more foolish than before, she typed out her request.

Reference, vampires. General knowledge. Respond
.

After what seemed to be minutes—unthinkable in a sophisticated device such as the library computer—the response began scrolling up the screen.

Vampire, from the Earth Slavic
vampir.
A mythological being believed to arise from the dead at night to drink the blood of its victim. The phenomenon of vampirism appears in many cultures, both human and alien. (See mythologies of specific cultures for non-Earth traditions.)

The best-known vampire in Earth mythology was Count Dracula, a fictional creation of 19th-century British author Bram Stoker. (See Stoker, Bram
. Dracula.
Menkar: The Literary Reprint Series, Society for the Preservation of Ancient Classics, A.I. 63.) However, there is evidence to suggest that Stoker based his character on actual folk superstitions prevalent long before in the area of Central Europe known then as Transylvania. Stoker's creation was a curious mixture of
—

Bored with the historical recounting, Shannon hit the cancel button and keyed the query again. This time, her question was more specific.

Reference, vampires. State characteristics of appearance and behavior. Respond
.

Again, a seemingly endless pause before the information came up.

The unvarying characteristic of all vampires was the presence of elongated upper canine teeth, sometimes retractable. These the vampire would sink into his victim's neck over the jugular vein. He would then drain blood from his victim
—
whether by simply drinking it or by drawing it out directly through hollow passages in the teeth is not always clear. This could occur all at once, causing almost immediate death, or it could be stretched out in a series of attacks over a period of days or even weeks, until the victim eventually expired, the cause of death usually blamed on one or another of the wasting malaises common to that era of beginning medical knowledge. It was believed that a victim who died in this manner would also become a vampire, rising from his or her grave at night to drink blood and do the will of the master vampire. All vampires must return to a coffin of their native earth before sunrise, sunlight being fatal to their kind
.

Her attention engaged in spite of herself, Shannon read on, fascinated by the breadth of the vampire concept and checking the information against what Mather and Wallis had told her.

Legendary sources indicate that vampires were able to transfix their victims with a hypnotic stare, often forming an obsessive bond that led the victim to aid the vampire in gaining access to his or her person. There are also indications that victims may have derived sensual pleasure from their liaisons with vampires, though this was rarely stated clearly in the repressive literature of contemporary authors. However, it should be noted that vampires generally (though not always) chose victims of the opposite sex, especially if the draining of blood was to be prolonged over a period of time. (See Von Calder, Gunther
. Sexuality in the Legends of Old Earth.
Tersel: Journal of the Institute of Psychiatric Research, A.I. 82.)

Vampires were believed to live forever, so long as their sources of fresh blood were not curtailed, and to confer immortality on those of their victims who became vampires. They could take the form of bats or sometimes other animals. Vampires also had the ability to turn into vapor and thus pass unseen through locked doors and walls. They were possessed of superhuman strength. Because they were believed to have no souls, it was thought that their reflections could not be seen in mirrors. They disliked garlic and garlic flowers, which acted as a repellent, and could not stand the touch of a cross or of silver. They could not cross running water or enter a house unless invited by
—

“This is ridiculous!” Shannon whispered, hitting the cancel button again.

For a moment she sat staring at the faintly glowing screen. Then she tried one last query.

Reference, vampires. State methods for destroying. Respond
.

The response came back immediately.

Vampires could be destroyed by: exposure to direct sunlight; branding with a cross, especially one made of silver; dousing with holy water; pounding of a wooden stake, preferably of ash, through the heart; burning. There is also some evidence that silver bullets—

In exasperation, Shannon hit the cancel button a final time and shook her head, all reason rebelling against what she had just read. It was sheer superstition. It had to be. And yet, something Wallis Hamilton had said kept flashing through her mind: that almost all legends have some basis in fact.

For several minutes she sat there in darkness, staring at the blank glow of the display screen as if it might impart some new wisdom that she could accept more readily. Instead, her imagination embellished what she had read and sent chill shivers down her spine. She finally turned off the console altogether and stalked back to bed, determined to put it all out of mind and go to sleep.

She did sleep this time, but she also dreamed—and woke angrily, more than once, to hazy recollections of silver crosses, garlic flowers—whatever
they
were!—and wooden stakes piercing hearts that did not beat.

Mather and Wallis also got some sleep eventually—though not before checking on the cats a final time. Wallis went directly there, to nurse the animals through any aftereffects from the phase shift, but Mather rode out the jump in one of the new suspensors, as Shannon had suggested.

“It did cancel out the usual discomforts of jumping,” he informed Wallis afterward, when he had joined her in the hold, “but I lost consciousness for a few seconds. I could do without that.”

“But you weren't nauseous or dizzy?” Wallis asked. “Darling, that's wonderful! I wonder if it would help our furry friends. This jump was a lot harder on them than the last time.”

She gestured toward the cats, who were all slumped flat in the bottom of the cage, hardly able to pick up their heads, much less scream.

“Well, first you'd have to get them into the harness,” Mather quipped. “Seriously, though, I'm afraid the thing is still very experimental. It
did
mean one less jump
I
had to suffer through, however. And if Lutobo is still speaking to me by morning, I plan to run the navigation coordinates to see if we can't refine his figures and eliminate another one. We might make up some of his lost time, too.”

“Well, it might improve his temper,” Wallis agreed. “Do you think the suspensors are worth trying again?”

Mather grinned. “Well, not for that jump, of course. And I don't know that they'd ever work out for military use. It's one thing for a civilian to pass out for a few minutes and avoid the usual after-grogginess from medication, but that wouldn't do at all in a battle situation.”

“Well, you don't have to worry about battle situations anymore, darling,” Wallis murmured, patting his arm with affection. “If you want to use the suspensors, you go right ahead.”

“Woman, if you keep patronizing me about that, I'll banish you from my bed and board!” Mather muttered, though he smiled as he said it. “It isn't
my
fault that you got the right genes to make you immune to jump sickness.”

Wallis grinned. “Poor baby. Are you satisfied with security, so we can go get some sleep?”

“I don't see what else we can do,” he replied. “Mister Neville, the shift is yours.”

“Aye, sir. I've got a few more things I want to install, so there can't be
any
question.”

“Fine. We'll see you in the morning.”

But though their sleep was not marred by nightmares the way Shannon's was, nor were they permitted to rest as long as they would have liked. Very early, the harsh rasp of the door buzzer jarred them from sleep. Mather, honed to the expectation of possible trouble by long years' experience, was awake instantly. He saw Wallis roll over and peer at him sleepily as he eased out of bed and glided silently to the door speaker. He glanced at the chronometer beside the speaker and yawned before thumbing the button. “Seton.”

“Commodore, this is Courtenay, chief of security. I'm sorry to have to bother you so early, but the captain wants to see you and Doctor Hamilton in his office immediately.”

Mather felt every muscle in his body tense and had to force himself to relax by conscious will. He laid an arm around Wallis's shoulder as she came to stand silently beside him.

“I gather that the captain's request has the force of an order, as far as you're concerned, Mister Courtenay,” Mather said carefully. “Am I to assume that the captain considers us to be under arrest?”

There was an awkward pause. Then: “Sir, I can't say what's in the captain's mind about that. I'm afraid you'll have to take it up with him directly.”

“I see.” Mather glanced down at Wallis and signaled for her to begin dressing, then turned back to the door grille. “Can you tell me specifically why the captain wants to see us, Mister Courtenay?”

“I'd—ah—rather not discuss it out here in the corridor, sir. And I don't mean to rush you, but I do have my orders.”

“All right, we'll be right with you.”

Breaking the link with Courtenay, Mather moved across the room to the regular intercom and hit the switch.

“ComNet, this is Seton. Connect me with the duty officer in my hold.”

“Stand by, please.”

He began pulling on a pair of trousers as he waited for a response. Wallis tossed a tunic on the back of the chair nearby and continued with her own dressing.

“Wing here.”

Mather secured the waistband on his trousers and hit the switch for visual circuits.

“Give me a status report, Wing. Is everything all right down there?”

Wing's face on the tiny screen had been bland, emotionless, when it first appeared. Now the young man raised one dark eyebrow, his manner becoming more guarded. “Is there some reason to suspect that everything isn't, sir?”

“You've had no trouble, then?” Mather insisted. “Nothing has tripped any of the alarms, and nothing has happened that you know of?”

“I would have called you, if it had, sir.”

Mather nodded and pulled on a shirt over his head, uncertain what to make of that news, and began yanking on boots.

“All right, Wing, just stand by until I can get down there—and don't let anyone near those cats! I don't even want you to lower the shields to see if everything is all right inside. Wait until I get there. Then there can be no question of any of you being blamed.”

“Yes, sir. By the way, regarding any of us being blamed, all of us except Mister Perelli had the opportunity to place that device you found yesterday. The tapes show the spot at a bad angle, though. It's impossible to tell whether anyone actually did plant something since we've been in here.”

Mather nodded. “Thanks, Wing. Maybe that will help to soothe the captain. We're on our way to his office under escort. I'll see you as soon as we can get away.”

With a sigh, he broke off the connection and shrugged into the harness of his needler holster, checking the weapon before fitting it into place. Wallis had finished dressing and was checking the contents of her medical kit. Mather, with a worried glance in her direction, picked up a gray fatigue jacket and slipped it on as he crossed back to the door to thumb the door lock.

Courtenay was waiting outside, four of his security men drawn up at attention behind him, weapons conspicuous on their hips. Mather made no attempt to conceal his own weapon as he adjusted his lapels.

“Well, Mister Courtenay?”

“Commodore Seton,” Courtenay acknowledged with a slightly sickly grin. “I hope we're not going to have to shoot it out with you.”

“Not if I can help it. Won't you come in for a moment, Mister Courtenay? Gentlemen, we'll be with you shortly.”

He had drawn Courtenay in almost before the man realized what was happening, and as the door closed behind him, the security chief swallowed and glanced around the room uneasily. Wallis, too, was slipping a needler into her med kit.