The Lorraine Project

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The Lorraine Project

Volume II

By Just call me Nik

Project Lorraine Chapter # 18: Betwixt & Between...

After coffee, I made my excuses, left Pete in the Café, went back to my room. I stripped, emptied my valve, locked through and emerged as Rhys. Her lighter bag held only baby cream, talc and body wash. With that inside, I locked her door and set off into the Nest's maze. Again, her sandals' wedge helped, but keeping to Rhys' small, short steps was difficult.

There was a note on her hanging space in the Diner's changing area, 'Rhys, your spare clothes & clogs in Café, help Lara. {J}' I deliberately went the long way around, looked for a staff door. There was none, but I did spot the nearby His & Hers washrooms. Deep breath, set nerve, ease into Café...

Behind the counter, Lara's head jerked up. The others followed her gaze. Silence fell. "Ook !" Pete managed, "Hello, Rhys ! Come in, come in !" "H-- Hello..." I stuttered, ghosted a clumsy curtsey. It wasn't hard to seem nervous. Those in the know gawped at my transformation, the others stared in naked curiosity. "Hi, Rhys ! Glad you found us !" Lara waved, "Come around here-- We've locker-space in back !" "Y-- Yes, Ma'am." I sidled through, glad to step out of sight. Lara pointed to the hanger with my spare uniform, badge and new clogs beneath. I nodded, changed into Rhys' catering clothes, washed and scrubbed. Going house-front was less unsettling because they knew this Rhys from the Diner. Even so, Pete hid a smirk behind his mug, and Lara kept a hand to her mouth to suppress incipient giggles.

"S-- Start clean." I showed my hands, hoping to sound nervous but professional. Lara inspected them thoroughly, nodded, waved at the coffee machines, "Okay, Rhys, have you ever used equipment like this ?" "S-- Sorry, Ma'am..." I allowed, "Only basic machines..." That was a simplification. My coffee-mad family owned enough gadgets, beans and blends to stock a shop. I preferred brews that took longer to drink than make, processes and equipment that did not require a Rocket Scientist or Chemical Engineer to run. Yes, I drank OwnBrand Instant. And, yes, my sibs claimed they could taste the difference... "Okay." Lara nodded, "We'll start with these, as there's two of them..." She took it slow, I focussed. My first attempt looked odd, but tasted okay-- in my opinion, of course. The second was better. Lara drank the third and enjoyed it. Then we took the beast apart and cleaned it out. Re-assembled, it not only gleamed, it made coffee.

"Other's the same." Lara explained, "We've hand-washed, but the parts will go through our dish-washer." A smaller version of the Diner kitchen's tray-loader, it was bleeping at the cycle's end. "How often is that run ?" "When a basket fills. Don't hand-wash cups, mugs or plates, Rhys: They need too much rinsing to shift the detergent taste. And don't wash more than one coffee machine at a time. We usually do one before Supper, one after, so Day Watch can still have caffeine with their breakfast..." "Day ?" "Nest's like a ship, runs 24/7. They liase with the Surface, run the Laundry and such..." "Ah..." Well, I should have realised, "What about that big coffee machine ?" "Leave it alone." Lara stated, "At least until you've studied its DVD !" "That bad ?" I shuddered, "Okay !" "Just make simple coffee, serve cake and rolls from the chiller. More in the fridge. Anything gets short, the intercom goes through to the kitchen." Lara chuckled, "Watch the water levels. Keep the place clean and tidy..." "Yes, Ma'am. And if I need a quick break ?" Lara pointed under the counter to a cheerful sign, 'Back in five.', "Put that up, go as you are, re-scrub when you get back. Okay, I'm helping with Second Breakfast-- See you later !" "D'uh ?" "Have fun, Rhys !"

"Ook..." I managed as she scooted out. A dozen heads tracked her exit, turned to me. I hastily grabbed that sign, "Sorry, my first day working this Café-- Any Café ! Please, give me a minute to check the stock..." That was fair enough, drew nods and several chuckles. I worked my way around the shelves and cupboards. Here, boxes of napkins and swizzle-sticks. There, clean mugs, cups, saucers and small plates by the dozens. Spare trays of plastic cutlery. More milk, rolls, carrot and fruit-cake in the fridge. Dirties ? Half a tray, a few more to add. Washer ? I eased it open, ducked the usual gush of steam. It was a mixed load, I'd time to wait for it to cool. Water levels ? Fine. Milk jug ? Ready...

I turned, took a deep breath, removed the sign, "Café is open--" "Two LARGE Lattés--" "A Medium Mocha--" "Small, black--" I held up a hand, "Two Large Lattés to start ? Okay, wish me luck..." My victims hooted, began playing 'Scissors, Paper, Rock' to determine who'd risk the first sip...

When Lara returned, the floating clientele were sipping passable coffee and nibbling rolls. After deciding I was safe, Pete was gone on Nest business. The washer gurgled in mid-cycle. A pair of cheerful Youngsters had found Oswestry with GoogleEarth, were teaching Rhys to map-read. "Hi, Rhys ! Any problems ?" "No, Ma'am, nothing no-one could drink..." I allowed. That drew hoots, but it was true. "That's fine, Rhys !" She chuckled, " Not bad for your first session: Now, could you go help with Elevenses in the Diner ? I'll take over here..." "Yes, Ma'am." I nodded to the Youngsters, "Thank you for your help !" I slid into the back, washed my hands and changed to Rhys' belted tunic and sandals. When I stepped out, Lara was checking the stock as I'd done, "Okay ?" "Oh, yes, Rhys ! When you come back, could you bring another four-pint of semi-skimmed ?" "Yes, Ma'am; After Elevenses or before Lunch ?" "You skipped Second Breakfast ? Grab Elevenses first..." "Yes, Ma'am !" Lara was enjoying herself, "Now go !" "Yes, Ma'am !" I was happy to play along. I ghosted an exceptionally gawky curtsey, waved to the grinning clientele, zig-zagged out. I'd changed too fast, had to stop to adjust my left sandal. The Nest was very quiet compared to city living. I missed Lara's question, but heard most of the Youngsters' innocent reply, "Sure, Rhys did okay... She's a bit odd, must spend a LOT of time around Saps. But she's cute..." I allowed myself a small smile, crept away.

After that moment of calm, things got hectic: Serve Elevenses then clear tables in the Diner, ferry the milk, another hour in the Café, change to Chris for a quick, early Lunch. I spotted Pete as he stepped in the door, waved him over. He'd just missed Rhys at the Café. He'd arranged an after-Dinner appointment for Chris with Elder Fern, I'd to wear my Lederhosen and meet her in the Diner. I doubled back as Rhys to clear Lunch tables, returned to the Café with more milk, was called to the Diner to help serve then clear Afternoon Tea. Sue let me load the kitchen's big washer, helped me scrub a ton of pans, some of them twice. After a session serving Dinner, I doubled back as Chris to grab a bite to eat...

"Ah, young Chris !" Elder Fern chuckled, "I was hoping to find you here earlier..." "Sorry, I took a wrong turn some-where..." It happened to be true. "Young Pete mentioned that you enjoyed seeing the Watergate and Tannery. May I show you my small hobby ?" "I'd be delighted..." I waved at my half-eaten snack, "Would you like a glass of juice while I finish this ?" "Oh, yes ! Tomato, please !"

Elder Fern led me to an un-marked door onto narrow steps hacked into a steep tunnel. Their variation and the single, feeble bulb by the door meant even she needed the rope hand-rail. A dozen yards down, there was another old, steel watertight door with porthole and storm cover set in a strong bulkhead. Beyond that and its single armoured lamp, we edged --almost by feel-- down a sloping, semi-natural passage cut by weeping faults. Chiselled grooves guided drips to a rough drain on the pathway's left, led them ahead.

Gradually, a faint brightening developed before us. It wasn't the dull, ruddy hue of the Nest's lighting, it was diffused, natural day-light. "Compost ?" I sniffed, "Ooh ! Smells like a Bottle Garden !" Elder Fern eased a screen door aside, let us in. Perhaps twenty feet across, the space was weakly lit by an eight-inch frosted port-hole in the roof. A hinged storm-cover was latched back, but in reach from a centrally pivoted 'library' ladder. The illumination was weak, the quality changed from moment to moment as if shadowed by clouds or trees. Around us, not a square inch of wall lacked a potted fern. More hung from brackets and ceiling hooks, larger specimens stood in planters. Beneath the mobile steps, shelved trays of sporophytes --fernlings-- waited their turn in the sun.

"Wow !" I whispered, "This is so beautiful !" "I am glad you agree." Elder Fern smiled, "Most consider this an Elder's Folly." "Is it the only garden ?" "Sadly, yes..." She nodded, "So few plants will thrive in the Nest. We have a few wan Bonsai, but their growth is un-natural. These belong here..." I breathed the heady air, glanced up at the roof-light, "Did you re-cycle a bore-hole, or adapt a swallet ?" "A little of both..." She allowed, "After the Great Flood cleared this swallet, I discovered some ferns growing, thought to tend them. Since then, a light-well has been installed, and the ground sealed--" "Don't tell me how you hid the stack !" I cautioned. "Nor would I !" She grinned, "Do you garden ?" "Only stuff that thrives on neglect..." I sighed, "I have some hardy shrubs in patio pots, but most of my small yard is wild flowers and herbs to attract bees and butterflies. My neighbours' cats love to hunt along the shadows, nibble the ornamental grasses or bask in the sun." "You live alone ?" "Yes, I'm a loner. It suits my job."

"I would find solitude very difficult..." Elder Fern sighed after some moments' thought, "Do our Nest numbers trouble you ?" "Here ? I was surprised by the count at the Diner meeting, I did not realise you had so many visitors..." "Ah, my apologies... I meant the crowd itself. We find such comforting..." "Um, I was my parents' youngest, my elder sister started her family soon after, as did my brother. There were always neighbours, friends, cousins about, also their many pets... Which the Nest seems to lack ?" "We do not... relate... well to such." She sighed, "Perhaps we are too much a Predator species ?" "It is your Hunter heritage." I nodded acceptance, "Which makes this beautiful and restful place even more remarkable..."

"They are not as splendid as I remember..." Elder Fern sighed, "They need more exhaled breath to flourish, yet the way becomes steeper with each year..." "Can you add a little Carbon Dioxide ? I'd worry about a night-light candle's wax contamination, but perhaps a little smudge-pot ? Trick is keeping the Monoxide and Cogeners low... Could the Youngsters find something on the Internet with Google ?" "I-- I had not thought of that..." She wondered. "May I visit again and contribute my breath ?" "If you please..." "I would be honoured." I stated, "This place will be one of my treasured memories."

Our hike up from the Grotto took longer than I expected. I'd thought Pete had exaggerated that difficult climb from the Tannery, but Elder Fern really struggled. After our third stop, she let me take her elbow and help her up the slope. Okay, I jogged and used my modest gym machine methodically, but I was no athlete. Perhaps my comparison with the Cheetah's genetic bottleneck was more than a simile ? Could it be that most Vamps had even less stamina than SOTM thought ? Might they be literally 'One-Rush' Predators ?? It would explain some of their non-Porphyrial anomalies. It suggested a trigger for their 'idiosyncratic' reactions to some routine HomoSap treatments...

Good news for Vamps was my insight would improve their treatment. The bad news-- Well, I could probably develop three better ways to kill Rogues...

And there-in lay the rub: SOTM collected the £ 5000 UKP bounty for each Rogue I killed as their agent, of which I got 25%, tax-free. Every Vamp who took Amnesty got a £ 1500 UKP 'Golden Hello', and their sponsor could claim a £ 100 UKP Finder's Fee. So, an Amnestied Rogue earned me £ 25 UKP, exactly 2% of a dead-at-scene Rogue's worth, and much, much harder to collect...

I'd tried to claim the difference as a 'business expense', but my Tax Inspector brusquely refused. Seems our cold-blooded Inland Revenue could teach even a HotZoner something new about the value of human life...

Bizarrely, this was the single point on which VampAiders and I might agree: their agitation for the Rogue Bounty to be 'Dead or Alive' was not only ethical, but valuable. Of course, I could neither support nor oppose such amendment, for that would be conflict of interest...

I waited with Elder Fern by the upper door until she'd regained her breath. "Steeper than it looks !" I allowed. "Would you walk me to my room ?" She asked. "Surely, Ma'am !" I smiled. Our slow walk took us into a part of the Nest new to me. As Chris, I could let myself notice passing Olders and Elders. Several looked unhappy at my prescence, but Elder Fern's polite nods to them meant they had to acknowledge us. "Not all of us welcome you, young Chris." Elder Fern sighed, "Few are entirely comfortable with the revival of the archaic Office of RogueBane, never mind a HomoSap in the rôle-- Yet, you do this already..." "I was surprised to be asked." I stated, "I needed convincing... Meeting Monty helped." "And the disguise ?" "I'm pushing my limits now. I've a couple more hours before I can do much to relieve my skin irritation." "It hurts ?" She puzzled, "You have made no complaint..." "Elder Weft obtained baby-cream and body-wash for me. That should help."

We went some yards in silence. "Do you find the disguise disturbing ?" She asked. "First time I wore it, my reflection frightened me." I admitted, "My reaction scattered the FX team stood around me. I'm getting used to it." "You have made friends quickly..." Elder Fern mentioned, "And so has Rhys..." "Ah ? Welsh Catering Student ?" I hesitated, "Room next to mine, I believe, but we seem to miss each-other..." "Quite." Elder Fern chuckled, "Given your trick with that tabard, I'm not surprised..." I didn't know what to say. "You should knock on the dividing door and speak with Rhys." Elder Fern advised, "Our large, Progressive Nest must seem so strange to her. She will be lonely. Although her Nest was small, she may have had a Pet Sap when younger. I'm sure she will welcome you." I glanced to her. She winked. "Ah..." I nodded, "I've been too busy to ask. I do know she's Amnestied, the Catering staff mentioned it..."

"Here is my room, thank you." Elder Fern stopped, "I know Elder Broderik of old, and he has not mellowed. Your ethics are of no concern to him. So, you and Rhys must spend time together to allay suspicion. It will help your cause if you are considered a potential Aspirant--" "Sorry, what's that ?" "A Sap who requires little or no Bending for compliance." "Ah ?" I worked through the probable root, "One who aspires to Vampirism ?" "To become, or merely to serve. Willingness is implied..." "Within SOTM, we call them 'Sucker Bait'." I shuddered, "I'll try to get it changed." "Though a joke in poor taste, that is most apt !" She chuckled, "Again, it will help your cause if you are considered a potential Aspirant, hence secretely sympathetic. And, if Rhys is striving to Induct you with her female wiles, it would explain your scent on her person --" "Gotcha !" I grinned, "Like the song, 'Lipstick On Your Collar' !" "Indeed !" She chuckled, "Also, both of you may then speak the truth of your relationship-- such as it is !"

"If you were a Sap..." I wondered, "I would suspect you bore a grudge against Elder Broderik." "If you were a Vamp..." Elder Fern chuckled, "I would regret I was too old to Call !" "D'uh ?" "May I suggest discussing the interpretation with a certain Catering Student ?" I stepped back, made a compact Dojo bow, "My pleasure, Ma'am !" She clutched her robe-seam and curtseyed, rather better than Rhys could manage, "That is how 'tis done !" "Thank you, Ma'am !"

Project Lorraine Chapter # 19: My head hurts, too...

I needed a while to find the way back to my room. Eventually, I followed the re-hung signs for the Diner, went from there. With Lederhosen folded, I emptied my valve and chose a different tunic. The Club was quite busy. I got a glass of tomato juice, found a quiet bench seat, had twenty minutes before Supper.

"Ah, there you are, young Chris !" "Elder Frank !" I nodded, slid along to make space for him, "Something on your mind ?" "Have you been here long ?" "Not really. I was delayed after walking Elder Fern to her room." "I did not see you come in..." He shrugged, "However, I have news: Elder Broderik, his Second and three Assistants will arrive around Lunchtime, night after next." "Umm..." I was still trying to adjust to the Nest's time reckoning, "48 hours from Lunch just gone ?" "Yes. They made a fast connection--" "Don't tell me how or where !" I cautioned. "Nor would I if I knew !" He chuckled, "Although, like the texture of your body-glove, I may surmise..." I nodded, "And the bad news ?" "You are an un-Bent, hence essentially perfidious Sap. Elder Broderik wishes no contact or direct communication with you." "Elder Broderik fears contagion." I shrugged, "He must. If he was not paranoid, he would not be your Delegate..."

Frank chuckled, then studied me as I shifted in my seat, "You look uncomfortable..." "I itch. I can only wear this body-glove for a limited time without resting my skin. I'm past that now." "Ah... I wish you prompt relief ! Hmm, have you met your neighbour, the young Rhys ?" "I hope to. " I nodded, "Elder Fern mentioned that Rhys may be lonely. Certainly, this Progressive Nest has been as much of a surprise to her as it was to me..." "True, true !" Frank chuckled, shaking his head, "However, she seems to be settling in well... A thought-- Elder Broderik has demanded a Top Table and waitress service: Need this concern you ?"

"Doesn't bother me-- I'm not invited !" I grinned, "But I hope he wasn't planning to ask for Rhys as his personal servant ? I'm told she may be a gossip-- Mind you, that could just be nerves and local tattle..." "Ah..." Frank nodded seriously, "Yes, that is a consideration. Best not share any confidences with her lest she is quizzed !" "Not even my idle remarks on the purblind, Traditionalist ways of certain Delegates ?" I smiled, "I'm told Rhys will not speak of her own, small Nest, nor of her New Sire's plans. Perhaps she may be trusted in larger things..." "That is good !" Frank grinned, "Ah, the Diner is opening ! Will you join me for a light Supper ?"

I nibbled at my light meal as Frank spun a tale of Medieval escapade and adventure. Paris ? A dissipated artist's studio ? A visiting sculptor who glanced up to Frank's perch in the rafters, met his gaze, winked, then immortalised him as a Gargoyle ? I did not know much of Paris beyond The Pasteur Institute, but Notre Dame was on even MY must_see list. Yes, a younger Frank may be the one on the postcards !

Frank was old, Old, OLD. I gathered his Sire ejected most of the Nest's male Juniors as too dim, too lippy or too sharp. The young Frank scored two of three. That adage about keeping friends close and enemies closer does not apply to Vamps: Given the stark options of Bend, Fight or Fledge, Frank left and n'er looked back. The Sire ? Well, he put too many of his Missies in litter: A few years later, their dozen Juniors mobbed, killed and ate him...

Finally, Frank was talked out. I escaped, clutching a borrowed salt-cellar and tea-spoon. My first priority was to lock and bar my room. I put my fangs and contacts in soak, prepared for the painful part. I coaxed the back-zip down to its stop, doubled over and tried to wriggle out. Shedding 'Brendan' had been easy. The Vamp glove was much tighter, and stuck. I could not apply much force, as I'd peel the raw skin it had stuck to ! I had to stand in the shower, flood each limb in turn to expand it and flop off. The 'head' was even harder. I managed to fill the 'scalp' and free it without flooding the washroom or half-drowning myself. After that, I girded my loins and eased out the catheter. Rinsed thrice, I left it to soak in the diluted 'baby bottle' peroxide.

I took a long, long shower, let my blisters and saddle-sores breathe. That was my outside bathed: I mixed up a glassful of precisely salted water, drank it and four more. I knew my kidneys' response, had time to thoroughly wash the body-glove and hang it to dry. At last, I could put cream on my damage, then crash on a bed-spread towel. An hour brought my carefully salted drinks to their conclusion. And, yes, it stung. I drank another five glassfuls by the clock, napped, read for a while, then eased on my night-shirt and slept like a log between calls of nature. For once, I did not have apocalyptic dreams-- merely weird...

Two alarm-clocks woke me. I was curled snug against a long, well-filled, and rather feminine night-shirt, could not remember where I was. Explanation came when I touched my still partner. Her shirt held pillows, not a Vamp or Sap. I sat up, looked around. The communicating doors were open. I was in Rhys' bed. At some point, I must have thought to put my scent on the outside of Rhys' night-shirt. Yeah, right: I could only hope I'd not been for a 'midnight' stroll, too...

The good news was my sores were not infected, and had ceased to throb. The bad news, I must don my body-glove unaided. The baby-cream helped. Half an hour found me plumbed in, zipped up, be-fanged and red contacts fitted, belting my tunic ready for First Breakfast as Chris.

I was almost finished with mine when Pete showed up with his usual, heaped tray, "No sign of Monty or Frank ?" He shook his head, "Didn't expect them-- They were talking to other Elders until the small hours..." "Protocol ?" "Probably... There's a fine line between offending Elder Broderik by shunning his table, and offending him by glowering across it. Seems he is not popular..." "How's it looking ?" "Well, a couple of visiting Elders have not declined the dubious honour, while Frank and Monty have no choice. Several are still undecided..." "Waitresses ?" "Ha !" Pete chuckled, "Seems Rhys is off the short-list due suspicion that she may be a gossip... Not proven, of course, but too risky under the circumstances." "Of course." I agreed, "Any takers ?" "Yes, if the price is right..." Pete grinned, "You may have seen two of the Candy triplets helping with Supper ? They usually work DayWatch for the money, but were switching to Nights and jumped at the chance. Elder Weft's running up some Traditional costumes for all three."

"I hope they're okay..." "They're good kids..." Pete grinned, "You'll meet them at the Sleep-Over !" "D'uh..." I struggled with the time-line, "That's tonight ? Today ? After today's Supper ?" "All of the above !" Pete chuckled, "Also, that invitation to Hunt Zombies-- Be at the Café after Tea ! We've managed to clear the PCs' schedule and get 29 Days up on all of them ! Wear your Lederhosen-- It does not sweat-stain like a tunic ! Couple of hours fun, grab a bite to eat, then have a nap. Meet at the Café after Supper. Wear a casual tunic to the Sleep-Over. Bring your night-shirt if you like, but you won't need it..." "Oh ?" "We're too young to Call or Strut, so we can have a snog-fest. You'll enjoy it..." "Ah... 'We' ?" "I'm to report on your demeanour." Pete grinned, "This job has its perks !" "D'uh..." What was I getting into ? "Contacts ? Fangs ?" "Hmm... Go better if you can wear them..." "I'll use my spares." I decided, "What about a wash-room ?" "Two, en-suite." "Er, okay..." I hesitated, "But if anyone tries to unzip me unasked, I'll scream..." "Fair enough !" He grinned hugely. Yeah, right ! There had to be something he wasn't telling me, but I couldn't see what. Oh, well, it would all go into the report... "Okay." I shrugged, "I'll see you later !"

I walked to the food counter, waved to Sue, "Hi, any message for my neighbour, Rhys ? She had a restless night, slept through her alarm..." "Ah... If you can, could you tell her to do a stint in the Café, then come here for Second Breakfast ?" "No problem !" "Handy having you around !" Sue grinned, "You can Pierce even the shyest student's Glamour !" "My fault she's late today." I admitted, "I sat up with her last night until she fell asleep..." "That was kind of you." Sue allowed, barely keeping her face straight, "We don't often get Singletons, and she seems nervous in crowds..." "Well, blame her Old Sire for that, too..." I shrugged, improvised, "I got the feeling he didn't believe in Sap medicines. There's a limit to what you can do with simple herbs, litters must have had a high mortality..." "Ugh !" Sue shuddered, "One of THEM ? We're all vaccinated, so we lose very few ! Oh, the poor child ! She must be so lonely !" Then, just to make the situation clear, she winked...

I headed back to my room, went in as Chris, through, out as Rhys. Lara greeted her sympathetically as she stepped into the Café, hoped she felt better soon. I guessed that the intercom had been busy. Serve coffees and rolls until Second Breakfast, return with milk, grab Elevenses in the Café as Rhys, change to Chris for a quick, early Lunch. Again, I spotted Pete as he stepped in the door, waved him over. He'd just missed Rhys at the Café, asked if I'd seen her: Elder Weft was concerned about her health... I knew a cue when it hit me, "Needs more time to settle. She didn't sleep well last night. Puts a brave face on it, but I don't think you'll see much of her after Tea..." "Okay..." Pete nodded, "I hear the two of you spent some time together ?" "Rhys needed Sap company, I was happy to help-- Smart of Elder Weft to make us neighbours ! Get past the shyness, she's a good kid. And she is rather cute..." Pete nodded politely, muttered silently, shook his head, "Strange days, indeed !" Then, just to make the situation clear, I winked...

Project Lorraine Chapter # 20: A Surfeit of Zombies...

With my light lunch gone, I nodded to Pete then strolled back to my room. Sitting a while gave me no clue to a SleepOver's hook, so I locked through and returned to the Diner as Rhys. There were plates to collect and tables to wipe. After that, I joined Mary in the wash-up area, scrubbed pans.

An unfamiliar catering Vamp put her head around the door, "We're just off to Elder Weft's workshop..." "Okay, Candy !" Mary nodded, "Oh, have you met Rhys ?" "Hi, Rhys ! I'm Milly ! Hope you sleep better tonight-- Sorry, gotta go !" "They're so alike !" Mary chuckled, "Maybe their Mum can tell them apart, but we can't ! We've tried tagging them, badging them, even sticking dibs on them, but they switch around too well... " "Sounds like fun..." "Gets better !" Mary giggled, "What happens when they Call ?" "Will that be a problem ?" A friend had dated twins, was never quite sure who was whom... "Oh, yes ! They may have to pull straws for the Strutter ! Can't have all three in litter to the same male, or related males !" "Skew the gene pool ?" "That's it." Mary sighed, "Traditional Nests are often less fussy, get more Runts..."

"Umm, I met Mick when I arrived..." I recalled, "Haven't seen him around..." "Day Watch." Mary hesitated, "Mick watches a lot of Children's TV, it seems to help." "Medical question... Difficult birth ? Disease ?" "Hmm, I think he's a Fourth ? Yes, Fourth. Litter was from a small Nest. Nothing odd at first, then he fell behind. He's still learning, though, which is unusual for weak-minded Runts. He's just so slow !" "Seems happy... " "He's a good kid." Mary allowed, "We agreed to keep him. Juniors love his company. He's so honest, so patient with them, doesn't tolerate bullying. And he's stronger than he looks..." "Is that why he's the GateGuard ?" "No. Mick may be slow in the head, but he can Pierce Glamour like Chris." "Oh ?" With three members of my immediate family eidetic, I'd learned to be *strictly* honest, "Can't cheat an Honest Vamp ?" "Something like that !" Mary hooted, "He gave Elder Frank quite a turn ! Okay, Mick can't do much Glamour, he'd never come up with that tabard trick, so Chris is still best in this Nest..."

"Funny, Pete said something like that..." "Chris is the Nest's Master Vamp by Glamour ? Oh, yes !" "But it was just a trick !" "Funniest thing I've seen in years !" Mary giggled, "Bent the visiting Olders and Elders, too ! They may not agree with Monty, they may not accept Chris' jurisdiction as RogueBane, but have they a Tale to tell !!" "D'uh..." I shook my head, "That is a hard act to follow..." "Rhys is doing well, at least so far." Mary nodded, "I hear you've wriggled out of Waitressing-- I wondered how you'd manage that !" "Pete found me a loophole !" I chuckled, "Right, I think this pan's done: Would you check it ?" Mary looked it over, nodded, put it to drain and air-dry, "Is Chris looking forward to the LitterDay SleepOver ?" "Nervous..." I allowed, "He's never been to one before --Nor have I-- and Pete just grins." "Ook !" Mary hooted, "He would ! He won't get many more before he turns Older and starts to Strut." "And you're not going to explain, either ? No ? Perhaps you wish not to disturb young Rhys' delicate sensibilities ?" "Ook !" "Yeah, right..."

Another thought surfaced, "Back to Mick: For what it is worth, SOTM could check his genes for gross oddities. The DNA database is just about big enough for comparison. All they'd need is his tag/code." "Hmm. Yes, his family might care to know..." "How's his Porphyria ?" "Same as ours: Sub-clinical." Mary shrugged, "Given caution and the right diet, we should be okay." "In a pinch, I'm a Registered Donor." I stated, dropping back into 'Chris', "I prefer the blood-bag route, but I've done it the Traditional way for an emergency Detox..." "Oh ! D'uh, what was it like to be Tapped ?" "Bad Trip." I shuddered, "I was wired for ECG & EEG, blood Oxygen and blood pressure. We had two cam-corders running. Our Phlebotomist was taking samples from my right arm while Ms. V slurped on my left. Then the world went very, very strange, tied itself in knots and floated away...

"Next thing I remember clearly is the ceiling of a 'rubber room'. I had an airway, a nappy and a Humane Restraint Garment-- 'strait-jacket' to you ! I sat up, spat the airway, demanded a de-brief session and breakfast. No-one came. I could not operate the door's keypad with my nose, tongue, toes or the air-way's corner, but I did press the Aid-Call. No-one came. After a while, I noticed the jacket fit was unprofessionally loose. Well, I did yoga with Mum and both Sis, so I'm limber. Still took me almost an hour to wriggle loose. Keyed the combo, opened the door-- to cheers ! My unprintable colleagues had run a pool on my escape time ! At least the winner bought me a packed lunch from her proceeds... I lost a day, SOTM got unique data..."

"Would you do it again ?" "If need be." I shrugged, "I'm a HotZoner." Like our other Vamp specialists, I was later vaccinated against some of the venom components we found in my samples. Best it could do was mitigate a Trip and prevent long-term nerve damage. A hostile Vamp would simply double-tag... I waited for the next question, wondered how Mary would phrase it. "Um, Rhys, have you ever Tapped a Sap ?" "Only in play." I smiled. And that, of course, was the other reason I'd been given those 'training' prosthetics. For ethical and safety reasons, I could not tackle a real, live target. I requisitioned some Phlebotomy training equipment from our neighbouring Teaching Hospital, got my teeth into them. For a while, my cellar was not a pretty sight-- I had fake arms with real fang marks on a camping table, fake blood in bags on stands, congealed splashes, puddles and drips all over the floor's tarpaulin, blood-curdling colour stills on the walls, Ms. V's Bite looped in stereo on DVD. My cover-story's cover-story was a Halloween Party gag. Practice helped: after a fortnight, I could ingest a half-unit of 'Cranberry Sauce' with only modest spillage... "Only in play." I repeated, leaving her very puzzled, "Any more pans ?" "Er, no, that's the lot... Okay, Rhys, you're done here for today. Go and get your head down, try to get some rest..." "Thank you, Ma'am !" "Set your alarm for Second Breakfast." Mary nodded. She barely stifled a grin as she twisted the knife, "And, please, let Chris RogueBane get his eight hours ? He's got a busy day tomorrow." "Thank you, Ma'am !" I now curtsied rather better, thanks to Elder Fern tip. "Oook !" Mary giggled, "We'll make a proper Missy of you, yet !"

Back in Rhys' room, I locked through, emerged as Chris in time for a hasty Tea, strolled along to the Café. Place was crowded. Lara handed out coffee left and right. The final Googlers finished their search and gathered materials. Two PCs already showed 29 Days' gruesome intro loop. Four Youngsters helped Pete optimise IntraNet settings on the other three. "Hi, Chris !" Pete called, "Which PC would you like ?" "The one nearest the door ?" They hooted. "No, seriously, I like that old 'stick & gun' pairing." "It is the oldest and slowest..." Some-one warned from under a table, "And the lowest spec display." "That's how I remember it !" I shrugged, "I may need to tweak some options, but it will suit me fine !" "D'uh... Want to get kitted while we wrestle with these ?" Pete offered. "Okay !" As I'd said, it had been a while. Still, my familiarity grew as I threaded the set-up options.

UI ? Diminish the screen resolution, drop the colour depth, kill the anti-aliasing and fancy texture mapping. Nudge the refresh rate upwards, but not so it slowed the interface. Adjust stick sensitivities and acceleration.

Avatar ? Yes, the Vamp / Sap Hybrid was supported. The only obvious benefit to a cross-over was some day-light tolerance plus improved night-vision adaptation. Second-order detail provided subtle gains beyond diplomacy...

Clothes ? Simple, strong 'hiking' wear, bump-hat. Stout, bite-proof boots, light and heavy gloves. Knapsack took a small-folded 'goodies' sack and two thermal blankets.

Weapons ? The H&K P46 came later, but the game had FN's equivalent 5_7: Similar weight and heft, 20_round mag, good grouping, and a weapon I knew. I took two, added lots of ammunition, a 'hold out' Derringer two-shot snake-gun, a Bolo macheté plus several fighting knives.

Tool-kit ? A neat pry-bar, lock-picks, fire-starter and other utility hardware. A small grapple with line. Several climbers' anchors.

Vittles etc ? Salt, water and simple food for the hike. Alcohol for disinfectant etc. A simple FirstAid kit.

Second look ? Check, check, check: I might be rusty, but I'd not forgotten much...

I entered the Range. My skill levels skittered upward from 'default' as I worked through the exercises. "Ook !" Pete peered over my shoulder, "You've done this before !" "Not recently..." I demurred, 'cleaned' the FNs and holstered them before switching screens. I was still not used to my talon nubs, needed more time on the lock-picks, but soon recovered the knack, "There we go ! Beats blasting locks if you've got the time..." "Uh-huh... We're playing the Edge Hill scenario, based out of the Williamson Tunnels." "I know it. Have you opened the blocked passage to the railway cutting ?" "D'uh ?" "No time for that now: Takes some finding and a dozen hours' digging. But it gives you a fast-track to the City centre. And, if you get out to the rail-yard near Speke, there's a maintenance crew's truck you can crank-start. Deploy its mini-plough, you can blow through any zombies on the line. Means you can trade with other Nests." "Oook..." Pete gulped, "Okay, we'll look into it ! D'uh, normally, we've only 5 PCs networked, but we're six-up today. Ready ?" "As I'll ever be..." I grinned, and pulled on my boom-mike head-set.

Pete settled himself at another PC, pulled on his head-set, "Okay, Team, sound off !" "Station One, Sindy: Katana, pistol and sawn-off !" She popped up in the opening cave, sleek and deadly as a Black Mamba in her snug leathers. "Station Two, Sandy: As Sindy !" Then there were two bald Kate WannaBees. "Station Three, Mike: Cutlass, two revolvers !" He looked as piratical as intended. "Station Four, Pete: Sabre, sawn-off, two pistols !" More like Zorro, a 'Dashing Blade', indeed... "Station Five, Phil: As Pete !" Somehow, he managed to wear the same outfit with a Musketeer's panache. "Station Six, Guest, Chris: Twin automatics, snake-gun, macheté, fighting-knives and tool-kit." Beside those five lean, mean killers, I looked like a Cub Scout off to his first Summer Camp. They looked at me, looked at each other, shrugged. What could go wrong ?

"Okay !" Pete announced over the game's audio link, "Try not to leave Chris stood on his own ? Lock & Load ! Open the door ! Remember there's always a group of Zombies nearby--" Bam-Bam, Bam-Bam. (4) "Oook-" "Can you see a fifth ?" I asked. "Nine o'clock, two !" Phil spotted. Bam-Bam. (6) "Oook." Pete gulped, "Er, Chris, how long since you've played ?" "Five years plus. And I've no experience-code--" Bam-Bam. (8) "So game thinks I'm a Rookie, is trying--" Bam_Bam. (10) "To mob us--" Bam-Bam-Bam. (13) "On our own door-step."

"Er, Chris ?" Sindy wondered, "You're taking single head-shots at that range ?" Bam. (14) "Because he can ?" Sib Sandy allowed, "How many more ?" "Four o'clock, singleton !" "Mine ?" Mike offered, took it down with a clean neck-cut. We looked around, but it seemed the game's A.I. was sucking its teeth... "Okay..." Pete shrugged, "Where to ?" "Bold Street ?" Sandy bid, "There's that Leather Boutique--" "Again !" Mike grinned, "Can we get down to 'Boots the Chemist' ? Nest supplies are getting low..." "And HMV ? We *really* need some new Musak..." Phil groaned. "Sounds good !" Pete chuckled, "Move out !"

We hiked for ten minutes without problem. I turned the unexpected numbers over and over. My recent lack of experience could not be the entire explanation. Suddenly, I had a bad feeling about this jaunt. If the A.I. decided I was a visiting hot-shot-- Bam-Bam. (16) "Where did they spring from ? " Pete gasped, "Ten o'clock and one: Team, split three / two !" Sindy, Sandy and Pete went left, Mike and Phil veered right. I kept their backs clean. Bam-Bam. Bam-Bam. (20, Reload) The sword-wielders hacked into their UnDead opponents as I watched for the A.I.'s hook. It came-- An over-grown grass verge erupted arms and teeth, "Five at six, I'm on it !" I shifted position. Get the right line with MilSpec 4.6 or 5_7, and a steel round could take two. Bam, Bam. Bam. (3) "Six clear." I closed with the group crowding Mike and Phil, hamstrung several with my macheté, let the swordsmen finish them. A dozen yards away, Pete & Co. were tidying theirs.

"What-- Is-- With them-- Today ?" Mike puffed, "Never seen-- So many-- So soon !" Bam-Bam (5) "Oook..." Phil wheezed, "Chris ? Is it your Hybrid blood they're after ?" Bam-Bam. (7) I shrugged as another pair of zombies collapsed with shattered skulls, "Do I look like a Tourist ? Fun, though !" They looked at each other. Phil voiced their concern, "Chris, just how much ammo do you carry ?" "Hundred in mags, five hundred boxed. One over." "D'uh, how much do you need ?" "Rarely more than half, but last one's mine." "Oooook--" "Incoming ! Twelve o'clock!" Pete called, "Here they come again !"

We looked up as a shambling mob turned the next block's corner. "I reckon thirty ~~ thirty-five..." Phil muttered, "Take them or leave them ?" "Our back's clear, our flanks are safe." I noted, "Take time for more to walk in. We can go through these sooner." "Pete ?" "Hmm..." "Gore-Fest !" Hissed Sindy, "Sis, left or right ?" "Right before, so left !" "Let's cull some Zombies !" Mike brandished his cutlass. "Let's do this right !" Pete commanded, "Advance at walk to meet them, retreat over clear ground. They'll stumble on their fallen. Chris, watch for gaps."

The five spread out, strode towards the mob. The first wave's arms and heads fell to slashing blades. The second wave stumbled, went down easier. The third wave was ragged, but no less threat. I studied the A.I.'s tactics, "Sindy, watch your left-- Go right, I'll take that clump !" Bam-Bam, Bam-Bam. Bam. (12) "Thanks, Chris !" "Welcome-- Mike, watch your right !" "On it !" "Pete, ease back !" "Sorry !" The mob shrank to a dozen, then three, then gone. Our five Vamps were breathing heavily. I kept scanning the street for more trouble.

"I-- I've never seen so many so close to home !" Phil heaved lungfulls, "I've never killed so many in one game !" "Best we keep moving !" Pete stated, "Chris, you do not look surprised... Is it you they're after ?" "I don't think so." I hesitated, "Could be my range scores have bumped the team's skill-level--" "Wow !" Sindy gasped, "You've moved us up a level--" "Fantastic !" Sandy hesitated, added, "Can we still go shopping today ?" I joined in the hooting.

The long, long slope down from the Williamson Nest was littered with wrecks and ruins, but we'd killed all the local Zombies. More would wander in to fill the void, but there was a lull and we took advantage of it. Left at the Inner Ring Road. The first and only section of a grand scheme lost to shifting local politics, it was now a piece of virtual archaeology. Though never built in reality, we could follow the splendid sweep to the top of smart Bold Street, now mostly shabby wrack and ruin. Several gaping store-fronts worried me more than those slumped in debris, but nothing stirred. The favoured boutique was at the further end, tucked into a short cul-de-sac. Windows and double doors were intact, but that was no surprise: you cannot eat, drink or burn leather !!

Sandy, on point, went to un-limber her shot-gun for the locked door. "Let me try, first ?" I asked. "Spare you a couple of minutes..." Pete allowed. I wasn't used to these talon nubs, but I'd demonstrated competence. The second Yale fell within Pete's deadline. I turned the two bolt releases on the right-hand door. "Watch for mummified assistants..." I cautioned, turning to watch the street as the five pushed by. "Ook, okay !" Sindy and Sandy headed for the 'Disco' racks, began stuffing their sacks with impractical garb. "New jacket for you ?" Phil asked me. "No thanks !" I chuckled, "Are they always like this ?" "Er, no, the stock's better than usual on this run--"

"Hey, Chris ? How about this for Rhys ?" Sindy --Or was it Sandy ?-- called, waved a fringed bikini top and matching micro-skirted briefs. "I really don't don't think that's her style..." I groaned, "Hey, it would show her knees !" "Is that the problem ?" Mike called, held up a pair of thigh boots, "Add these !" "Ook--" "Ooook !" Sandy hooted, "They're back in stock--" "Gimme--" "Mine--" "Easy now !" Pete cautioned, "You gotta carry what you take..." "Yeah, yeah..." "We'll stash the sacks, collect them on the way back..." "Okay, okay !" Pete shook his head, "Chris, you want that teaser for Rhys ?" "Oh, why not ?" I chuckled, "Goes in her trousseau, some lucky Strutter gets to paw it..." "What size does she take ?" "Now ?" I shrugged, "Based on a small sample, about the same as mine-- But when she Calls ?" "Oook !" Sindy chortled, "Now where was... Aha ! That's it, Sandy !"

Sandy held up a loosely laced bodice that barely contained her two fists, "She'll need this too !" "Yeay !!" Mike leered. I rolled my eyes, "Pinky curves ? Oh, go on, roll them small..." I stuffed my unwelcome loot into a corner of my rucksack, went back to scanning the street. It was quiet. Too quiet. "Pete, would you expect a few Singletons by now ?" "Problem, Chris ?" "Just a feeling..." I shook my head, "I really would have expected one or two, at least..." "Chris has a point." Mike agreed, "Much too quiet." "Check-out time !" Pete called, "Take it or leave it !" I closed the door with the bolt-turns, the sacks would be safe enough in the doorway.

We'd gone a hundred yards down-hill when Phil, on point, stopped suddenly, "I smell Zombies !" Sandy and Sindy split to opposite sides of the street, peered both ways into the next cross-road. "Oops--" "Oooops !" "How many ?" Pete asked. "Too many !" "And this way, too !" Phil glanced both ways, confirmed, "Two groups, and we're the meat in the pincer." "By the pricking of my thumbs..." I turned, looked back up-slope as the first of a third group blundered into sight. "Oook..." Pete drew a careful breath, "Options ?" "Forwards and out-run the pincer ?" "Retreat, cut through the third group ?" "Fort up in a shop ?" "Go out the back, or over the roof ?" I offered. "We could take one group, but the others would catch us mean-while." Pete estimated, nodded, "Okay: Back to the boutique, block the door, then out the back or over the roof. Let's do it !"

With only the boutique's turn-bolts to release, we were inside within seconds. The Sibs headed for the back to check exits. I set the bolts again, stepped back as Mike and Phil dragged a display table nearer, stood it on end to mask the door. "Does this place have roller shutters ?" I wondered, "I can see slides..." "Electric, Chris..." Pete shrugged, thought, "D'uh, maybe there's a manual winder, too ?" We played 'Hunt The Crank'. Phil found it hung beside the dead alarm panel, concealed behind a shabby display lost in deep shadow. Zombies were beginning to gather outside as we lowered the first section. They'd got our scent, but were distracted by where our group had stood while I'd picked the locks. That bought us time to crank the second before a press developed. The doors were the weak point, now. Those turn-bolts would probably baffle the throng, but enough pressure would pop the frame.

"Look what else I found !" Phil brandished a stout, steel tube, "Ram-raid bollard !" It fitted into a capped hole just behind the doors' centre, would prevent them swinging inwards. Now it braced the table-top, too. "Should hold them for a while !" I agreed, "Hi ! What's the back like ?" "So-so: Opens on a narrow, dog-leg alley to the cul-de-sac, gated at the street." "Bad news, the crowd's backed up solid..." "You are kidding me... ?" "Pete, I've--" "We've--" "Never seen so many Zombies in one place." "If we try to fight our way out, they'll pull us down, one by one." "Hundreds ?" "Hundreds." "D'uh..." Pete rallied, "Okay, what else is there ?" "Stairs up and down. We did not check them." "Okay, you pick one. Mike, Phil, take the other." "Sure !" "Okay !" "Beats listening to that lot shuffle their feet..."

"Chris, you are not surprised..." I shook my head, "29 Days' as hard as it needs to be. Play for fun, it goes easy. Get serious, it pulls out the stops." "So we can get out of this ?" "Probably..." I reckoned, "Shutters, intact doors, bollard and table-top behind them, several options still open ? We gotta figure the loophole." "You have a funny way of being cheerful !" Pete grinned. "I'm a HotZoner." I shrugged, turned, "Hello, what have you found ?"

"Cellar's a stock-room." The Sibs chorused, waving trophies, "Extends under the pavement, you can see them through the glass blocks !" Behind us, the shutters groaned like a sailing ship rising to a storm's first big swell. "Heard that !" Phil stated, "Upstair's small stock, wash-room and office. Windows face front. Street's heaving: we could kill fifty and make no difference. We couldn't cross their pile. Over the alley's L-wall is straight down into the railway cutting." "Right..." Pete nodded, "Fast track to the back door we don't have, so a trap. Neat... Any skylights ?" Phil nodded, "Over the desk in the pokey back room." "Where does it go ?" They looked at each other, headed for the stairs. Under other circumstances, it would have been funnier. We heard furniture moved and stacked, then a yell, "Anyone got a grapple line ?"

Pete shook his head, stopped, looked to my grin, "You do, though. Okay, let's check this out !" The secondary frame-locks were no match for even my modest pry-bar. I eased the sloping panel open, peered around. Both sides met the blind ends of adjacent buildings. The back gutter was a dozen feet below the corner of the station arcade's canopy roof. That had an access catwalk cantilevered over the alley, with a hooped ladder from service door to roof edge. It was tantalisingly close. Given the manky state of the boutique's roof-tiles and the drop beyond, getting there un-aided would be fraught. Pete popped up alongside me, took one look, nodded, "That door: Reckon you can open it ?" "Probably..." If it was barred, I could rip through the cladding. "Okay. Get started. Mike, you're anchor and rear-guard. Phil, check this floor for goodies. I'll try to prise our shopaholics loose..."

Took three tries to snag the platform frame with the grapple, then we tied off our end. I pulled on my lighter gloves and set off. The roof tiles were rotten, loose, slick with moss, bird-droppings, weeds and accumulated dirt. Without the line, I would have fallen thrice in a dozen feet. Even a pure Vamp might only have a 50/50 chance...

I clambered onto the cat-walk, secured the line and recovered the grapple. One end of the gantry overlooked the cutting's station platforms. A dozen zombies stared up. The other gave a view of Bold Street's throng. Enough sightseeing ! The door's lock was stiff, the hinges encrusted with corrosion. I had to inch the door open with my pry-bar. Inside, a low service level carried ducts and cables. The walk-way zig-zagged left and right, between various shops' H&V stacks. To my left, towards Bold Street, a 'Fire Exit' sign beckoned. Stark concrete stairs met a passage behind several arcade shops, would open on the zombie-filled street. As I remembered it, this arcade was 'T' shaped, with the Bold Street ramp at the foot of the 'T', station and cross-street exits on the others. This suggested there'd be another stair-well.

"Chris ? You there ?" "Hi, Mike ! This street exit's not safe. I reckon there's another stair-well that-away. What's up ?" "Shop-front's failing. Phil's watching the line." "Get them across, we can stay here if need be. I'll look for more stairs." "Okay..." Yes, there were more stairs, and they opened onto a Zombie-free side-street beyond the railway cutting. Even better, the mob would need to stagger three sides of the wide block to reach our exit. We had our bug-out plan. I closed the street door quietly, returned to the service level. Sindy had completed her crossing, complete with bulging sack. Sandy was not far behind. Neither had carried their loot, they'd clipped the sack to the line and towed it. I nodded approval. Phil followed with a third sack. I frowned, as such greed could slow us dangerously. Pete came out last, towing a bundle of thick curtain-poles. I grinned. That was better !!

Pete eased the skylight down, made his way across, "Phew ! Glad to be out of there-- They're almost in ! May give up now we've gone, may not... Owe you the grapple." "Cheap at the price." I shrugged, "And its just the line." "You're still thinking !" He chuckled, fed his poles through the access doorway, "Clear route ?" "Far side. Only problem is if our Zombies scatter too soon... I've an idea for that." I pointed along the gantry towards the street, "I'll pot a few while you move the baggage through, then follow fast." "How long ?" "Eight, then a full clip. Still have lots for an ambush." "Do it. Don't be too long, though." "Okay !"

I put eight into the crowd, the disturbance and echoes clumping them tighter. Reload. I kept glancing back, expecting a mummified service technician to stagger out of the door behind me, but nothing came. I was not taking head-shots, not from this angle. I aimed for centre-of-mass. I wanted damage and confusion to keep their attention, got that. Reload. Bug-out time.

Pete had slung the sacks mid-pole so we'd have an end and a free gun-hand each. A brisk quarter-mile took us clear of pursuit. We watched for Singletons or verge-bursters, but the mob's commotion must have drawn them all. It was a tiring, but safe hike home.

The Nest's NPC gate-guards looked us over, let us in. We headed for the Main Hall to reckon our loot. For a 'nearly got whupped' mission, we'd done quite well. Beyond the heaped table of superb leather-goods, we had the boutique's pristine FirstAid kit and complete Musak library. I had some gifts for Rhys, a good third of my expended brass, and Pete's IOU for the grapple-line.

By even my former standards, that run was tame, but it almost doubled the highest score those Youngsters had ever made. Between us, we'd killed 73 Zombies and crippled 31 more, without taking an inch of hurt. Given what the A.I. threw at us, that was remarkable...

We just had time for a virtual photo-shoot. The first few were routine, with battle-dress, weapons, trophies, grins. Then the Sibs popped out to change. Their Avatars returned as Hyper-Goths, in lewd basque, ruff and tutu, long half-gloves, fishnets, absurd heels, all midnight-black leather or lace. Within the game, they could and did wear black lip-stick, face-stripes and talon-varnish. "Group pose !" Lara called, over the audience's wild hooting. The Sibs sandwiched me, Mike and Phil groped them, Pete found a grip, too. "Cheese ! Screen-save ! Game-save ! Team exit ! Wow ! Thanks, every-one !! "

I took off the head-set, forced myself to relax. I had a puddle of sweat in my Lederhosen, aches in my shoulders, buzzing in my ears and, suddenly, a dozen hooting Vamps hugging me. "Wow ! That was great !" Sindy --or was it Sandy ?-- gasped, echoed by her twin, "Thought we were Goners, for sure !" "Nice one, Chris !" Mike allowed. "Owe you one !" Pete nodded, "And Lara had 'capture' running, so we can replay the action !" "I know I could have done better..." I grumbled, "I was slow picking up cues..." They exchanged glances. "Sure you didn't make the on-line rankings ?" Phil wondered. "No way ! I never joined a Tribe: I just played for fun and with friends..." "Yeah, right..." Lara chuckled, "Coffee ?" "Oh, no ! I'd be buzzing for hours ! Er, long fruit-juice if you have it..." I squirmed, "Gotta change, wring this out, then grab Dinner and a nap..." "Fair enough !" Pete hooted, "But remember to be back here just after Supper ?"

"Drink up !" Lara sent a pint tankard of juice, hand to hand. "Orange juice ? Perfect !" I sank it in one, burped gently, "Pardon !" I looked around at the astonished faces, "What ?" "We may gorge like wolves..." Lara grinned, "But we can't drink like a thirsty camel !" "Ah..." I burped again, grinned mischievously, "So does that finally prove I'm a Sap, not a Changeling ?" They were still hooting helplessly when I eased out through the crowd and headed for my room.

Project Lorraine Chapter # 21: Time Out...

I was very, very glad to reach my room. The puddled sweat itched and rubbed where I was already sore. The usual places were beginning to throb. I shed my Lederhosen, the sodden T-shirt and briefs, stepped under the shower. After easing my zip open, I opened the taps and let tepid water pour in. Most missed, of course, but enough sluiced through. It helped.

I tried to remember how to wash leather, shrugged. I'd left my clothes within reach, so rinsed the Lederhosen before the salt caked. The rest could take their turn in the hand-bowl. I shut off the shower, waited for the 'Second Skin' to do its oozing trick. The suede briefs handwashed easily. My T-shirt required laundering, but I'd need to ask how and where. I settled for soaking it, kneading it well, then hanging it to drip dry. By then, I was dry, too.

I smeared some baby cream into my tender corners, closed the zip. After pulling on spare briefs and a tunic, I headed for a hasty Dinner. The Youngsters greeted me with hoots and yells. "Bring your tray over here !" Pete called across their commotion. I'd stayed in the shower too long, the counters had a very limited range. I settled for drying fish fingers, the broken slices of a pork roast's end, some sad pasta and a dob of weary greens. "Sure they'll do ?" Mary asked, unhappily, "We could find you something better..." "They'll do fine." I stated, "Better than SOTM's canteen, thank you !" Mary nodded, loaded my plate. I landed my tray in the one gap left by the Youngsters, "What's up ?" "Hard copy !" Pete chortled, "Lara grabbed some 'Overseer' angles ! Look !"

The laser printed, grey-scale sheets were already weary from handling, but they showed highlights of our adventure. I recognised my long head-shot, annotated with Sandy's bleak, 'Because he can ?'. I'd not seen much of the team's in-fighting, I'd been watching for gaps. The others' points-of-view were filled with eyeless, peeling skulls, rotten teeth and clutching, near-skeletal hands, held a horrible immediacy. My tricky traverse to the catwalk was merely 'Technical'-- From Mike's perch at the window, it looked much, much worse. Then there was the view of me distracting the Zombie mob. I'd been too focussed to look beyond the moment. Now I could see the cul-de-sac was full, while more pushed in from Bold Street. All turned from that failing shop-front to swirl around the vortex cut by my gun-fire. The final print, pristine in a plastic sleeve, showed Sindy & Sandy losing their studied HyperGoth pouts to Pete's well-timed 'Dallas' goose.

"They let me live !" Pete chuckled, "We'll get some colour prints done when we can..." "Thank you." I stated, inadequately, "You've gone to a lot of trouble--" "You kidding ?" Phil laughed, "Best fun we've had in years !" I nodded acceptance, added, "Gets harder now: Elder Broderik sees things different." "I know..." Another Youngster sighed, "I've been researching his visits in the Chronicles..." "How's it going, Carl ?" "Hard, Jeff. Hard..." Carl grumbled, "If I did not know better, I'd swear Broderik was trained by those infamous Medieval Jesuits. Andy, did you get any Oral History from our Elders ?" " 'A difficult ally, an honourable foe-- He'll stab you in the front'." Andy quoted, "And that was the kindest comment. I don't think he has any friends." "Ouch..." I allowed, "Oh, well, if he's that predictable--" "Another thing." Andy warned, "He burns through Seconds and Assistants. Either he falls out with them, or they get carved up in fights. They don't seem to care, they are all Psychos. If they weren't on his team, they'd be Rogues." "Ouch..." I shrugged, "Oh, well, if they're that predictable--" The Youngsters hooted cheerfully.

"Okay..." I thought about it, "What should I say if I meet him ?" " 'Are you feeling lucky ?' " Andy quipped. The Youngsters hooted again. "Seriously." I stated, "I can't just ignore him. Besides, no harm in being polite to some-one I may have to shoot..." Several well-read Youngsters recognised the quote I'd adapted, most just gulped. "We're to call him Elder." Pete shrugged, "He may not speak to us at all. Just like he will not speak to Juniors or with Olders." "Ah... And what of his team ?" "That's easy." Carl stated, "He calls his Second 'Talon', and Assistants 'Nub'. They have no names, they have not earned them." "Ook..." I shook my head, "Are they Amnestied ?" "Are you kidding ?" Pete laughed, "He's already in a snit because Monty won't let them Tap our locals !" "You cannot be serious ?" Andy held up his hands, "One of the Elders had a line on his views, 'He's not a Traditionalist, he's a Fetlocking Fundamentalist !' What else can I say ?"

"Ook..." I thought on that, "Pete, do the Candies know ?" "They do." Mary leaned over, collecting empty plates, "They're good kids, they know how important this is. Besides, Monty's threatened to Dawn-Stake any-one who lays a talon on them..." "Okay." I'd come to another issue, "What about Rhys ? We've, um, shared a bed." That drew two types of snigger, told me who knew the gossip, and who knew the truth. No-one wanted to speak first. I had to add, "Look, the poor kid missed her Pet Sap-- What else was I supposed to do ?" They all hooted. "That's the spirit !" Pete grinned, "Does she know you're the RogueBane ?" "She does now !" I quipped, "Why do you think she avoids me in public ?" Pete groaned as the others hooted helplessly, "Okay, Chris, go and get that nap ! Remember, Café after Supper ?"

"Okay ! I'll bring my night-shirt, just in case. Do I need my toothbrush ?" "Please." Pete nodded, suddenly serious, "We don't want any accidents..." "Huh ? What do you mean ? I don't have venom--" "You don't need it." Pete shuddered, "Remember you told young Graham that sea water is a soup of life ?" "Ah, yes-- I remember the question." "We must shun the sea. Like Saps with peanut or wasp sting allergy, we risk anaphylactic shock from the proteins in a splash or spray. Outside the Nest, we'll carry Adrenalin pens. Same goes for a Sap bite. If allergy doesn't get us, the bugs can run rampant--" "Septicemia." I nodded, "Bacteremia with Sepsis, Toxic Shock, dead within days." "Used to be a major cause of death. Even Traditionalists now use antibiotics and Anti-Tet..." "Sorry, I never knew..." I shook my head, "D'uh, so there is a germ of truth in the legends about 'Holy Water' ?" Pete flinched, "Unfortunately, yes..." "Better that than Miracles." I allowed. "Agreed..."

"So how do Vamps cross oceans ?" "There's herbs that will dampen metabolism, reduce sensitivity to toxins." "Makes sense." I nodded, "We use steroids, Aspirin at a pinch." "But they're zonked: They can't travel alone." "Hence the 'Travelling in Coffin' stuff ?" "That, too." Pete pulled a face, "Must have been desperate to risk a crossing by Sail." "Bet they were glad when steam came in !" "Double-edged." Carl added, "Sure, it was faster and safer, but... A Great Nest died on the Titanic." "What ?" "Unsinkable ? Modest cabins for essential Trustees ? Plenty of big cabin trunks ? Lesser Trustees and their families in Steerage ? Too good to miss !" "D'uh..." "Of course, when trouble began, the Trustees would not leave their torpid Grand Master and his clan. Then it was too late to escape..." "Ook." What else could I say ? "And they must have been the Progressives of their time..." "They were." Carl stated, "Left the Traditionalists with a clear field. This Nest was one of the few exceptions: Our Elders declined the invitation. After the 1815 flood, they were wary of that 'Unsinkable' hype. Besides, it was rather early in the season for the Northern route..."

I shook my head, "A tragedy within a tragedy within a tragedy..." "But you're wrong about one thing." Carl added. "Oh ?" "There's been Vamps in the New World as long as there's been Saps." "They..." I thought about it again, "They came over from Siberia with the IceAge hunter-gatherer waves ?" "Must have done. Post-Glacial, they preyed on the tribes who hunted the MegaFauna." "Ook..." I shook my head, "But that's long before the DayWalkers died off in Eurasia !" Shrugs all around. "Ah... " I'd had a thought, "That issue aside, there's still the question of how Vamps followed the tribes. Could they have been Shaman to them ? My Anthropology is a bit ragged, but wasn't Shaman succession often independent of the tribe-- almost like our semi-symbiotic mitochondria ?" "Interesting hypothesis..." Pete allowed, "We've contacts over there-- have to e-mail and ask !" "We're talking about Trustees again." Carl puzzled, "Didn't some tribes carry their ancestors' bones with them ? Not a great step from hauling a mummy to hauling a Vamp..." "Duh, I would not care to be dragged around in a sack !" Pete moaned.

"Not far off what we do now." That quiet Vamp's eyes met mine, "Adrian. Small Nest in mid-somewhere. My Sire's here for trade and to argue for you. I bagged a ride to visit my school-friends again." "Worth the trouble ?" "Ook !" He chuckled, "Do we have tales to tell !" "Oh, no, not the tabard trick ?" "Ook ! That's one, of course ! No. Even wearing that remarkable 'Skin', you're the Sap we saw on TV. We-- We knew that Rogue. The Sire and I had warned him off our patch almost three Moons before you shot him. Then we got Monty's analysis." Adrian hesitated, "But we saw something else. You intended to take that Rogue alive. You shot four to cripple, instead once to kill. Those were expensive bullets."

The Youngsters exchanged puzzled glances. "Not so expensive." I quipped, "As SOTM's agent, I only get 25% of a Bounty." "I-- I didn't know that." Adrian wondered, "But it makes no difference. You put your life on the line to take him alive, and it costs you." "Anything else would be Murder." "Not in Law--" " 'The Law is an Ass'." I quoted, "And, this way, I get to sleep nights. Okay, I usually dream about HotZones, but no good deed goes un-punished..." "Ook--" "So those moans-- ?? " Andy groaned, "We thought you were making out with Rhys !" "I should be so lucky !" I shrugged when the hooting stopped, "I snore, too."

"We know !" Carl hooted, "We can hear you half-way down the corridor !" "Next time, can you ask for a room with a Coffin ?" Adrian grinned. "Sorry, I had one--" "Slept nine hours straight--" "Woke wrapped like a mummy--" "Oh, you heard-- or, rather, didn't ?? Well, I'm stuck with my current room until Elder Broderik leaves. Any chance I could borrow a Coffin / Sofa meanwhile ? No ?" I drained my juice, stood, "Sorry, I'm still buzzing after 29_Days. If I don't go now, I won't get my nap." That drew hoots, nods, even a few leers, but they understood. "Don't forget your souvenir !" Pete pushed the sleeve along, "And see you in the Café after Supper !" "Tunic and Toothbrush !" I nodded, "See you then !"

Project Lorraine Chapter # 22: Six of One...

I walked back to my room, shed tunic and briefs. After setting the alarm, I unzipped far enough to smear lots more baby-cream into my tender corners. The game run, the NewWorld Vamps' origins, the Titanic triple tragedy were buzzing in my brain: I lay awake on my bed-spread bath-towel for all of five minutes...

The alarm woke me after nearly three hours. I swapped out my fangs and contacts, brushed my teeth, put in precautionary eye-drops. With my spares in, I pulled on my briefs and tunic again, grabbed my tooth-brush. Time for Supper...

"Hi, Chris ! Is Rhys okay ?" Rhys knew this Dinner-Lady --or her look-alike Sibs-- but Chris did not. I had to phrase this carefully, "Would you be Milly ?" She nodded. "Rhys mentioned how brave you were to serve table for Elder Broderik." Milly beamed. "She's right." "Ook !" Milly beamed wider, "Don't tell her I said so, but Rhys has a good head on those young shoulders... Must have been a shock losing an old Trad Sire then landing in our Nest-- Trust her to grab the one and only Pettable Sap in the place ! Ook ! Does she know you're the Rogue Bane ?" "She does now." I wheeled out that gag again, "Why do you think she avoids me in public ?" Milly hooted. Clearly, she only knew the gossip... "Soup ?" Milly offered, "The Minestrone Special is really, really nice..." "Smells good..." I considered it, "No, sorry, just rolls and juice, thank you..." "Okay, see you in the Café in half an hour or so, then !"

I nodded politely, collected my supper and found a seat. This was getting silly: What had I said to Pete about bedroom farces ? Though I'd dodged that one, I was now playing my own Vamp mistress ! Was it healthy ? Nu: I'd begun to understand why Pantomime was so popular, why so many of those bizarre Denizens packed D's Den. Like my unforgettable Halloween Ball, it was a rare chance to step outside reality and be some-one else, if only for one night. Yes, I'd had great fun then. And, yes, I must admit to myself and Sam, SOTM's Psychiatrist, that I was having great fun now...

Of course, I was not doing this just for fun. There's no harm in enjoying honest work, and if it kept me off Elder Broderik's radar, well and good. If being thought a potential Aspirant or Pet Sap could save more lives than otherwise, then I had no choice. Yeah, right... I sighed, finished my final roll and downed the juice. Pete's comment that he was to 'Observe My Demeanour' concerned me. But, only one way to find out...

I stopped off at a wash-room, emptied my valve, washed well then brushed my teeth twice. Pete looked relieved as I arrived, "Good, now we're only waiting on--" "Sorry I'm late !" Milly skidded around the corner, "Elder Weft asked about our Catering clogs..." "Okay ! We're all here ! As this is Chris' first SleepOver--" He waited for the hooting to ease, "Please, try not to startle him ?" More hooting. "Let's go !"

We filed through the Nest's maze to another unmarked door, into a steep tunnel hacked with rough steps. We only descended a dozen feet before Pete stopped, "Where is that night-light switch ? Aha !" A few yards further on, an old, timber door opened at his touch, "Mind the odd step..." We filed in, waited while Pete closed the door and set the bar. I thought we were in a natural cave until I saw old chisel marks from the quarrying. Almost rectangular, it had two deep bed-shelves on each side, like a Roman catacomb. An alcove opposite the entrance held two modern 'portaloo' toilet cubicles.

"Okay, Folks ! As you know, I'm Pete. On behalf of this Special SleepOver, please welcome Chris RogueBane !" Hoots. "Er, hello..." More hoots. "Milly, Molly, Mandy--" "Sweet as Sugar Candy !" They chorused to cheerful hoots. "Sindy and Sandy, our virtual HyperGoths !" More hoots. "Old friends Alice, Bob and Dennis !" More hoots. "And the ever-reliable Jeff and Phil !" Jolly hoots.

"For Chris' benefit, I'll state the rules: No harm, no hurt, no better or worse, nothing but good clean fun !" Nods and hoots. Pete handed out wrist-banded keys, "Mini-lockers under each bed-shelf. Find yours, put your clothes in it, get snug on the shelf." One key-band came to me. I waited for the first disrobing to finish, headed for the gap-- Tunic, briefs, room-key, tooth-brush, close locker, tuck key into band on wrist. I eased onto the bed-shelf's futon, tried not to flinch from the shadowed occupants' exploring hands.

"Ook ! Hi, Chris !" "Hi, Chris !" "Er, hello, so this is what a SleepOver--" "Your 'Skin' feels as good as it looks !" "Er, thank you--" "And you smell good enough to nibble ! Come here--" One hand hauled me bodily sideways, another clutched at my crotch, "You have no slit ! That's not fair-- EEK!" "But you do !" Announced Third Dolphin, putting action to words. "Hey--" I began, before a Vamp nose rubbed mine, her lips clamped over mine and our tongues met, "Umf !" She backed off an inch, then jolted against me, "Eek !" "Oof !" I gasped. "Oook--" "That wasn't--" I began. "This is--" "Eeek !" "Hey, Chris' box has a ridge--" "Ook ! Yes !" "Let's try Chris as a Starfish !" "Erk--" Our tangle shifted, I was on my back, one Vamp on my front, another behind her, groping us both.

"Oof !" With our pelvises engaged, she began thrusting me into the futon, "Oof ! Oof ! Oof !" My face was squashed against hers. I managed to get both hands around, but the attempt to gain some air-space stopped at her up-stood nipples. How could I ignore such pert beauties ? "Eeek ! Ooooh, you Little Monster ! Ooooh ! Ooook!" Third Dolphin hesitated, then re-joined the fore-play. My catheter was an effective passion-killer, but the old hind-brain was definitely interested. My partner climaxed quietly, sagged to one side.

Was that all ? Dear Bon-Bon had taught me how to really treat a Lady. I rolled over with her, wriggled our hips together and set to work. Kiss-Kiss, nipples, the box-ridge-- "Erk ? Ook ? Ook ! Ook ! Ook ! Ook !" That was interesting-- a Vamp's g-spot must be in a slightly different place. Hmm... "Ook ! Ook ! OOK ! OOK ! OOOWWWWK !" Around us, there was sudden silence. They'd not heard that one before ! "Ook ! Ook ! OOK ! OOK ! OOOWWWWK ! Ook ! Ook ! OOK ! OOK ! OOOWWWWK ! OOK ! OOK ! OOOWWWWK ! OOK ! OOK ! OOOWWWWK ! OOOWWWWK ! Aaaah..."

"Oops." I'd forgotten Vamps' limited aerobic capacity. She was out like a light. Medical reflexes kicked in, "ABC ! Airway clear ! Breathing okay ! Circulation okay !" "Ook ? What happened ?" Third Dolphin wriggled up alongside us. "Richter 9.0 !" I quipped, relaxed with relief. That was a mistake. My quip about Earnest Anthropologists had come back to bite me. The Vamps' combined musk and my frustrated hormones hit like an earthquake's Tsunami. I twisted, pushed him over, writhed onto his front. "Erk ? Ook ? Ook ! Ook ! Ook ! Ook ! OOK ! OOK ! OOOWWWWK ! Hey-- Ook ! Ook ! OOK ! OOK ! OOOWWWWK ! Stop-- Ook ! Ook ! OOK ! OOK ! OOOWWWWK ! Please-- OOOWWWWK ! I-- I-- Aieeee-- Uhhh...." Now he was out for the count, too, "ABC ! Airway clear ! Breathing okay ! Circulation okay !"

"Chris ? What's going on ?" I turned my head. Four Vamps peered into our slot. "They're fine !" Then, before I could stop myself, "Who's next ?" They looked at each other, shrugged. "Swapsies ?" One offered, they nodded, she turned to me, "Trade places, Chris: I need a breather..." I eeled out, stood. She scrambled in, repeated my checks, "They're fine-- But they're zonked ! Sindy ? Sindy ! Say something !" "Mmmm.... Roll me over, lay me down and do it again... " "Ook !" By then, I was following two of the others onto their bed-shelf.

Time passed pleasantly. The faces and bodies changed, the results didn't. Later, I vaguely remembered singing-- off-key, of course. " ...Took six Missies, five Strutters and a Sap we stole from SOT-M, We didn't get much sleep, but we had a LOT of fun, On Grandma's feather bed !" Meanwhile, outside my slot, the few mobile Vamps chose their next sacrifice...

Came a time when they'd all had enough. Weary Vamps huddled on the other bed-shelves. I was alone. I whispered belated thanks to the insatiable Bon-Bon, rolled over and slept like a log.

I woke ravenous. I dressed, went via my room for an essential shower and more baby-cream. I changed my tunic and briefs, hit the Diner as the doors opened for First Breakfast. Mary, Sue and Annabelle stared as I kept pointing and they piled my plate, "Worked up an appetite ! Fun, though !" As one, they glanced towards the door. "Had a busy night !" I grinned, "Give them a chance !" I didn't just fill a glass with juice, I took a jug. Technically, I had a Full English Breakfast with pasta side. Given that I usually nibbled my food, the heap and its demolition drew curious looks. I had sufficient juice to wash all down. I burped behind my hand, considered a second helping, but thought better of it. I strode to my room, locked through to become Rhys and returned to help in the Diner.

The SleepOver's Vamps staggered in like Zombies at the very end of First Breakfast. I hadn't known Vamps could have bags under their eyes ! "What happened ?" Mary asked Sandy, the nearest. "Chris... "She moaned, cryptically, "Have you seen him yet ?" "Sure ! Came through here earlier, bright and cheerful-- Hungry as a wolf, mind !" "D'uh... I'm not surprised..." "Some mash with that ?" I asked politely. "Y-Yes, p-please, R-Rhys... I-- I need the fuel..." She gave me an unspeakable glare, pushed her tray along. Gallant Pete came last. He looked me in the eye, shook his head slowly, zig-zagged to their table.

"What's with them ?" Sue asked. I shrugged, "Chris did not say much, but I think he enjoyed himself." I'd seen that 'Precocious Child' blush. Now two Olders matched her pink. "Ook ? " Sue managed, "ALL of them ??" "And he seemed such a nice, young Sap..." I sighed, dreamily. Sue buried her face in her plate-cloth to stifle giggles. Mary and Annabelle stared between us, then fled into the kitchen before they, too, creased up.

Chef Joey put his head around the door, looked at my innocent expression, at Sue's giggles. He frowned. He scanned his Diner, steadied on those eleven weary Youngsters' slow refuelling. He shrugged, turned to me, "Ah, Rhys ! I've put those menus and nutrition tables in a zip-lock on your changing shelf." "Thank you, Chef !" "How are you, today ?" "I-- I've nearly caught up from my travels. I should be able to help a bit more." "Good ! Soon as you've finished clearing tables, could you take over in the Café ? I need Lara here to watch the special sauces..." "Yes, Chef ! Shall I take more milk ?" "That would be a good idea, saves dashing around later..." Joey looked over to the near-torpid Youngsters, "What happened to them ?" Sue had her breath back, "SleepOver ran late..." "Odd... I don't remember any LitterDays due. We usually get asked for a cake..." "I think it was a special for Chris." "Oh ?" Joey took a careful breath, "Rhys ? What do you know of this ?" I shrugged, "Chris does snore..." "Ah, yes... Of course !" Was that a wicked twinkle ? "Could you ask the Candies when their last fitting will be ?" "Yes, Chef !" I hung my plate-cloth, slid out.

The food and strong Breakfast coffee had restored some energy, but my approach still drew flinches from those in the know, "Excuse me, Candies ? Chef would like to know when your final fitting is due." "Ugh..." One took a hasty swig of coffee, "After Second Breakfast. We'll wear them to Elevenses..." Her bleary eyes focussed on me, "Rhys ? How was it for you ?" "D'uh ?" "With your Pet Sap, Chris ?" I gulped. What could I say ? The truth might do, "Chris wasn't wearing his 'Skin'. We huggled until I fell asleep. He says to roll him over if he snores..." "You didn't, er, do anything else ?" "Ook ? What else can you do with a Pet Sap ?" "Um, Rhys ?" Pete hastily asked, "Have you ever been to a SleepOver ?" That was easy, "No... But Chris said it was fun !" If asked, Mary, Sue and Annabelle could confirm it. Those who knew and those who didn't groaned as one. Over at the counter beside Joey, Sue was tapping her wrist significantly. "Ook ! Gotta go ! Tables to clear ! See you in the Café, soon !"

"How does he do it ?" Pete groaned, then covered his slip, "But Chris warned us: When that Junior asked if he can do it all the time, Chris said, 'Can, yes. May, no.' We can't complain..." "Oh, yes, we can !" Sandy moaned, "Who invited a Sap Strutter to our SleepOver ?" "You did. " Her sib Sindy stated, unsympathetically, "You thought it would be fun..." "Yes, but you suggested it first !" "Coffeeee !" Phil pleaded, "More coffee ! Lots more coffee !" "Oooh !" Another Candy moaned, "Can't understand it... Every time I look at Rhys, I see Chris' grin, feel his hands and-- Ooooh !" "There, there..." The third patted her sib's knee, "How many times did you and he-- ?" "Oook ! I don't remember !" "Nor do I-- Not after that first-- Wow !" Beside them, Sindy giggled, "Me, neither ! We need more coffee ! Can't have you asleep for your fitting ! Let's go !"

With their last table vacant, I cleared and cleaned it, washed up, then headed for the Café. Joey had his news about the Candies, I had my Diner study material and a four-pinter of semi-skimmed milk. I also had the interesting problem of what to put in my report.

Clearly, I'd need to read up on Embedded Field Anthropology techniques. I grinned. Of course, per SOTM's verbal agreement with Monty, none of this had yet happened...

Project Lorraine Chapter # 23: Trouble at Mill...

Lara greeted Rhys with a mix of alarm and relief. Between us, we ran both of the smaller coffee machines until the first rush eased. Lara hurried to Joey's aid. I kept the Youngsters plied, enjoyed their banter, watched food and caffeine repair their exhaustion...

By Sap standards, their recovery was almost miraculous. I'd triaged and/or treated enough victims of disease and mayhem to have mixed feelings at their progress. Within half an hour, they'd cleared residual anaerobic metabolites, shed their deathly pallor, returned to perfect, alabaster skin and near-glowing eyes. I would have needed a dozen hours sleep and IV rehydration...

It showed just how different Homo Vamps really were from us Saps. We'd evolved for aerobic endurance, they'd become ambush predators. And, like Cheetahs, they'd paid the price. Upside was that remarkable rebound. Two of the Candies were already trying to fake each other out, a game I could only call 'Duelling Glamour'...

It was fascinating: I'd seen Rogues use Glamour in anger, the Diner staff, Frank and Pete testing me, Elder Weft 'Busy' and her Tailor Twins lurking. Now, two of the Candies had a flickery border that drew my gaze. Even at the very edge of my peripheral vision, their heads and shoulders seemed to waver, not quite with heat-haze, more the shorter pattern of rippled water. I knew it was partly my eyes' natural saccade, partly my optic centre's repeated loss and re-acquisition. I wasn't immune to Glamour-- As Sam, SOTM's Psychiatrist cheerfully put it, my quisitive 'Inner Child' just would not let Vamps stay hid...

Hmm: Given poetic licence, that bald pair could almost have wisps of curly hair-- or snakes for hair ?? My nape crawled. I'd joked about a creche of Harpies, and now I was looking at Gorgons ! Could the infamous Medusa, that most memorable Gorgon, have been a Vamp ?? Okay, the time-line fitted, if vaguely. Against that, the young Medusa was renowned for her beauty, something these Youngsters rather lacked. Striking was surely the kindest Sap compliment !! Of course, as I'd proven last night, beauty was only skin-deep. Also, those early sailors did embellish their tales: to any-one who could describe seals, sea-otters and/or manatees as Mermaids, Vamps might look very, very cute.

Add in Glamour and Bite: I knew first-hand what the psychotropic components could do, even in a clinical setting. Survivors of Rogues' attacks had spoken of Rapture. 'Jack', a former saturation diver on oil rigs hence a trained observer, compared it to the feared Nitrogen Narcosis.

Jack's Vamp had drawn him off a lit street with a friendly wave, a half-remembered face. Then, The Bite. Hit in his fore-arm, the venom was enough to leave him docile and witless for the short hike to the Haunt. There, the Vamp had carefully punctured a wrist vein, lapped his fill then dressed the wound. Over several days, more en-venomed bites to his arms kept him placid through a succession of Taps. The Vamp had fed him left-overs from take-away meals perhaps snatched from drunks, induced him to sip rain-water lest he dehydrate and his veins collapse too soon...

Jack remembered little of his time, compared it to high fevers he'd known. Oddly, he did remember me. Rare among victims, he'd responded when I called to the Vamp. His half-dead bundle opened eyes, weakly exclaimed, 'Oh, look ! It's the Milky Bar Kid !!' and began a quavering rendition. I was too busy accosting the Vamp to cringe. That Rogue met my grim eyes, gulped and meekly surrendered.

Some-how, word of my body-cam's sound-track got out. The brand's owner offered SOTM *millions* for the footage, scarcely less for the the rights to re-stage it with their usual kiddies. When asked my opinion, I reminded Liz what a local comic had done to the 'Man From DelMonte' ad...

Across the Café, five Youngsters were now Duelling Glamour, urged on by the others. I grinned, kept serving coffee, plus a few rolls to top up their carbs...

What else was going on, off or down in those legendary times ? Santorini ? I'd stopped there for a post-HotZone chill-out, spent days watching the Dig or just staring out across the fragmentary remnants of that awesome caldera. The eruptions, cataclysmic explosion and tsunami were bad enough, but fall-out from the ash-cloud doomed Cretan culture. As with most environmental toxins, the fluoride was concentrated on its way up the food-chain, poisoning those already weakened by chronic silicosis. And, of course, any Vamps would be hit hardest...

I'd certainly needed time to think. Another session in the Unquiet 'Stans, it again saw a bunch of opportunist villains trying to leverage us. Again, it ended badly. This time, the local children betrayed them, if accidentally. Three of us were working a village, vaccinating, helping, caring, when those ever-present children *vanished*. That's a bad sign. Five of seven BlueHelmets were soon drawn to a noisy incident. The bandits' main group just pushed the remaining pair into our makeshift clinic at gun-point, made improbable demands for my safe return. They found the back window open, two modestly clad nurses, a queue of veiled patients, a slight, niqab-clad figure tailor-tucked on the bare floor beneath our folding table, silently keening over a bundle too small to have lived. Women ! Never mind, there were two Western nurses for the taking-- My P46 is a precision weapon, but that borrowed Browning suited this task. Shooting *upwards*, I gutted the first two before they realised their mistake. The third and fourth swung to cover the window, died puzzled. Our BlueHelmets felled the hesitant fifth without a qualm, then dragged out the dead. Just business as usual...

Ötzi the Iceman ?? He dated from the very start of that period, of course, before Bronze. He had that superb copper axe, and human blood on his flint arrow-heads. The reports held he was the victim of two hunting-parties' clash. But why should he attempt the Pass at that late season ? There was always the chance of accident or brawl collapsing dubious trust. Had they'd seen something untoward in the valley ? Dare I add 'Vampire Shaman' to the list ?? Perhaps not today...

I'd made and served another gallon of coffee when the intercom buzzed, "Café, Rhys speaking !" "Ah... Hi, Rhys !" It was Lara, "Coming up on Second Breakfast-- Would you like some kept ?" "No, thank you, Ma'am !" "Okay..." I heard stifled giggles, "Could you remind the Candies about their fitting ?" "Remind the Candies of their fitting ? Yes, Ma'am..." I looked around. They'd heard or been elbowed. They nodded. "Done, Ma'am !" "Any problems over there ?" "No, Ma'am, the four-pinter should last until Elevenses !" "Very good ! Carry on, Rhys !" "Thank you, Ma'am !" I could hear sniggers behind me, grinned. The more, the merrier !

While I was loading a dish-washer basket, I heard Pete & Co decamp, leaving the Café almost empty. I took coffee and finger-rolls to the pair of Youngsters still Googling. Two things jumped at me. They were slow readers: I could literally see their lips moving as they worked down the page. So slow ? Committing it to their remarkable oral memory ? Or, of course, both ? On image searches, though, they were as fast as the link allowed...

"Oh, Hi ! Thanks, Rhys !" "Thanks, Rhys !" "Um, looks complicated..." "This ? Elder Fern's got us researching Irish Myth & Legend !" "Then we gotta compare it with Elder Broderik's team !" "Oh ! Oh ?" "Sure ! They're coming over from the original Emerald Isle--" "No-one tell you-- ?" "Well, I don't think any-one's told Chris, and who else has time to chat to Rhys ?" "Yeah, right--" "Sorry, Rhys..." "It has all been a bit much..." "Hey, you've handled it well-- better than I--" "We--" "Would have done without Summer School here..." "Er, thank you !"

I peered at the screen, noted the old browser version and 'safe search' set, wondered if a different font might suit them better. And those weird desk-top colours were, "Umm..." They mistook my interest, "You use Google ?" "Er, that map thingy ?" "Google Earth--" "Charlene and Dennis said they'd shown Rhys Oswestry-- "Ah, yes, of course ! Doesn't it give a nice view !" "So strange..." I admitted, given that the view was *always* cloudless, "Must be like flying !" "Yeah... Funny that Saps used to think we could fly !" "Right ! Now, free-climbing--" "That's wild fun--" "We've a Victorian Folly near our Nest--" "And a real ruin--" "With bats--" "And owls--" "And badger setts !" "Wow !" What else could I say, as either Chris or Rhys ?

"Hey, Rhys, would you like to see what Google can find on Chris ?" "Yeah, you're the only one who's really seen him out of his Second Skin !" "D'uh... We just huggled..." "Try 'SOTM'-- Ugh, gazillion hits !!" "And 'Vamps' ?" "Okay, okay... Ha ! That's the Pier Head Rogue Interview ! Okay, Rhys, click 'Play' !" "Roll the ball to... That's it. Now press the left--" It was edited highlights, jerky, pixellated, with dreadful sound, but that didn't matter. I was seriously scary. The bulky body-armour boldly emblazoned SOTM, the neat holsters, the Paramedic pack just twisted the knife. Unlike L.C.'s 'Force of Nature' arrogance, driven by her athleticism and impeccable reflexes, I exuded quiet, technical confidence-- Welcome to the 21st Century, it told each Rogue, welcome to *my* world...

I shuddered suddenly, "Ook... He looks taller-- and scary !!" "He does that !" They agreed. "But he seemed such a nice, young Sap !" There, I'd said it again. "But he is !" They agreed. "D'uh... May I bring you some more coffee ?" "Oh, yes, please !" The dish-washer had finished its run, so I swapped trays and re-started it, too. "Here you go..." "Thanks, Rhys ! That was quick !" "Lara showed me a few tricks..." "Um, sorry, Rhys, we can't find much on Chris-- When he's not reeling in Rogues, he stays out of the social news..."

I glanced at their lonely find. Yeah, great headline, 'Rogue Hunter Tours Naughty Night Clubs To Hand Out Safety Pamphlets', could have written it myself-- Ah, but I did ! It was a Press Release ! One of the perks of being a local celeb was free tickets. I used a lot of mine to preach safety and, incidentally, scrape off persistent paparazzi. After all, you catch more flies with Honeys than with vinegar... "Well, there you go !" I smiled, "He is a nice, young Sap !" They looked to each other, shook their heads. "Oh, but he is !" I insisted, deliberately mistaking their reaction, "He may be the RogueBane, but when I was lonely for my Pet Sap, he offered to sit with me ! Um, isn't he very young for a RogueBane ??" "You didn't know ? Ook ! There are no other RogueBanes--" "Slayer Saps, yes, but no Official RogueBane--" "Recognised by other Nests--" "Used to be chosen by the GrandMaster Vamp, but we haven't had one of them--" "Since the Titanic !"

"Ook !" That bought me time to think, then improvise, "The Old Sire lost kin on that Sap ship... He-- He was very bitter..." "Oh, that's so sad !" "Gosh, yes, who wouldn't be !" "D'uh, is your New Sire nice ?" "He is the New Sire." I let my shutters slam, "I cannot speak of him beyond that." "Oops--" "Sorry, Rhys..." I shook my head, "He is the New Sire: What else can I say, even to my friends ?" They looked to each other, sighed. Naive, kept out of the loop, but loyal to her Nest ? Yes, a good kid...

I heard the sound of approaching Youngsters, turned, "Ook ! They'll be wanting coffee !" They piled into the room, demanding Latté, Mocha-- or even jug-coffee to save time. The Candies were conspicuously absent. The SleepOvers had fully recovered, were energetically discussing the Nest's arrangements for the impending visit. Monty had issued his orders, the Delegates were not to be teased, never mind provoked ! Chris must stay out of the way, messages would be passed by Pete or Rhys. Chef was in a *foul* mood, and Monty was still trying to find a quorum for the Top Table...

The Café suddenly went quiet. I looked up to find the cause, stared in equal surprise. At least I responded first, "Three strong coffees ??" The Candies nodded from the door. They stepped into the room, Vamps backed away. By silent agreement, a table was vacated and left for them. I wiped the top, placed three jug-filled mugs. "Thanks, Rhys..." "Need it..." "Don't suppose you had to dress like this ?" I shook my head, but the corner of my mouth twitched. "Say it." "My Pet Sap's friend had a Raggedy Ann dolly..." The silence was ghastly, and stretched. It was broken by my intrepid Googlers, "Rhys is right ! It is a Raggedy Ann costume !" "Call the list..." An end Candy grumbled. "Chemise, smock-dress, apron, knee-length bloomers, striped socks, clogs, mob-hat ?" "No hood ??" "No hood-- Raggedy Anns have a mob-hat, like our Dinner Ladies wear. And non-whites should be red or blue, not clover green..." "Not a hood..." I stated, "A hooded capelet." They all stared at me. I added, "My Pet Sap showed me in a library book. Is it cosy ?" The Candies nodded glumly. Pete put it in words, "If this is Broderik's idea of a joke..." The middle Candy shook her head, "We were expecting Coleen or Irish Dancer, too. But this is their uniform for a Serving Wench." "More coffee ?" I asked. "And pour yourself one." The last Candy warned, "Broderik likes his freshly hand-ground, black and strong, almost Turkish. Certainly none of our modern stuff... Now guess who'll be making it ??" "Ooook..."

Project Lorraine Chapter # 24: You Cannot Be Serious !!

When I dived behind the Café counter, Pete must have had a moment of doubt. I heard him stand quickly. As he hesitated, I reached up with the one of the tiny demi-tasse cups I'd remembered seeing deep in the cupboards. I dug around, found seven more in dark corners, then a stack of matching saucers. I already had a traditional coffee mill, ready hung behind our two modern electric widgets. I just needed an 'ibrik' with the wide bottom, narrow neck, and long handle. I'd prefer a traditional copper or brass design, but I'd seen at least one here in stainless steel-- and, yes, there were two in different sizes, with the larger just right for four !

I sorted through the utensil drawer for the right spoon, fetched a slim wooden stirrer from the tool pot, put sugar to hand. What else ? Ah, yes ! A small tray and a water glass, of course.

In silence, the Café's Youngsters watched me grind my selected beans to dust, measure the portions, then work through the centuries-old technique. Boil to froth, pause. Boil to froth, pause. Boil to froth, dispense froth into each cup. Boil, pour tiny portions of liquid into each cup by turn, around and around the four to get the traditional combination of froth and flavour. Finally, and very carefully, I negotiated the Café's obstacles, placed the tiny tray central on the Candies' table and pulled up a chair of my own.

"Coffee should be strong as love, sweet as sin and black as hell." Quoth I, grinned at a private joke, sipped mine, "Not bad for an unfamiliar ibrik: Next will be even better !" The Candies peered at my offering, exchanged wary glances. The middle Sib drew the virtual short-straw. She nervously gripped the tiny cup's miniscule handle, took a careful sip, shuddered, "Ooook ! Rhys is right !" The others tried theirs by turn, shuddered at the bitter-sweet brew, nodded their silent astonishment. Pete eased through the watchers, begged a taste, nodded, "Oook, yes... That-- That truly is Turkish Coffee. D'uh, it may even be better than Frank's !! Okay, Rhys, where did you learn--" "Family tradition." I stated, before he dug the hole deeper. "Ah..."

Okay, so it wasn't Vamp-old, as Mum & Dad had honey-mooned in Turkey and learned there. I much preferred 'Generic Instant' for speed --making & drinking-- but there was a time and place for Turkish. Oddly, one such was in HotZones. My skill with those traditional implements could be an ice-breaker. Custom, alone, changed the status of those who partook...

When our coffees were sipped to their dregs, I followed custom and spoke of business. I struck a prim pose, put my nose in the air, stated, "I must consult my Nest before I wear such immodest clothes." The Café's clientele stared at me in horror. Suddenly, the middle Candy cracked a grin and began to chuckle. Her sibs looked at her. She giggled helplessly, "Don't you see ? Rhys has Elder Broderik by the taste-buds !" Hoots rose around us until the Café rang with glee.

Such jollity made Youngsters thirsty. I set about brewing lots of modern coffee. Lara arrived after Second Breakfast closed, bearing another carton of milk. She sniffed the air, eyed eight tiny cups in the queued basket, noted the neatly rinsed and draining ibrik. "Yours, Rhys ?" "Yes, Ma'am." "Did it turn out well ?" "Oh, yes, Ma'am !" As I'd promised, the second was even better, "Very well !" Lara nodded approval, glanced around. The Candies' costumes made them conspicuous among the Googlers, "What--" "Standard garb for Elder Broderik's Serving Wenches, Ma'am." "Oook ! " Lara spluttered, "He cannot be serious !! They can't serve food like that ! It is not safe-- And not hygienic, either !!" The Candies turned at Lara's explosion, cheerfully chorused, "Hi, Lara ! What do you think ?" Lara hesitated, "You don't mind ?" "Not any more--" "Rhys found the funny side--" "And made us REAL Turkish coffee !" "Twice--" "Wow-- " "What a Buzz !!" Lara hesitated, "I-- I'll have to speak to Chef... " "Intercom ?" I offered, "And, Ma'am, could you take over while I use the wash-room ?" "Oh ? Oh ! Yes ! Yes, of course ! Just don't be long..." "Thank you, Ma'am !" Behind me, I heard Lara's almost plaintive query, "Will some-one please tell me what is going on ?"

I was longer in the wash-room than I'd expected, but such cannot be planned. At least the signs let me use one appropriate to my attire ! As naive, home-sick Rhys, I could probably sob my way out of a few blunders, but it would become harder as time went on. I was already struggling to keep track of who knew, who didn't. Pete had nearly tripped twice, but recovered well. At least one of the Candies had almost blurted the truth-- How they hadn't guessed was beyond me ! Unless they knew, too, and were making a huge joke of it ?? I had a growing suspicion that very little of my Nest doings would reach any 'Official' report...

Lara was pleased to see me return, "Oh, good ! Sorry, I was starting to worry..." "Thank you, Ma'am !" "I've spoken to Chef: The Delegation will be here just in time for Lunch, and you'll be on the Diner Counter. Mind you get some Elevenses ?" "Yes, Ma'am.... Um, will I need to change ?" Lara hesitated just long enough to realise she was wasting her time. Sure, she could tease me, but I would take it in character. "Ah, no. As you are now will be fine. Chef and Monty have reached an agreement-- Dinner Ladies bring food Front of House, Serving Wenches take it from there." "Neat, Ma'am." "Dress rehearsal at Elevenses. As almost everyone but Day-Watch and Chris will be there, Café can't serve between quarter-to and the end of Lunch." "Yes, Ma'am. Um, will Chris need a packed Lunch ?" "What a good idea !" Lara nodded, "Why not ask on your way from the Café ? You never know, he might like to share it ! And you could tell him what happened !" "Oh, yes, Ma'am !" Think fast, "Perhaps he'd like Elevenses, too ?" "Ook, perhaps he might-- But you'd better not stay for that, there won't be time !" "Yes, Ma'am..." Lara grinned wickedly, turned, called, "Candies ? Dress rehearsal at Elevenses, remember ?" "YES, MA'AM !" They chorused cheerfully. "See you four, then ?" "YES, MA'AM !" We chorused. Lara left, helplessly shaking her head as we hooted delight.

After that, there really wasn't much for us to do. I brewed coffee, the Youngsters drank it and used Google to search for, among other things, more Irish folk-lore, Turkish coffee preparation and Raggedy Ann dolls. After the usual laughter and happy hoots, I heard a sudden outbreak of loud giggles. "Sindy ! Sandy !" The Candies called, "Come and look at this !" "Nah..." They grumbled. Pete glanced over, stared in astonishment, "I think you should..." I looked too, fought to stifle my chuckles, lost. "What's with Rhys ?" Sandy wondered, turned, looked, hicupped, "Ah... Maybe so..." Okay, I'll go..." Sindy prised herself from the circle of gossip, ambled over, started, "Ook ! Sandy ! I don't believe it ! But we'll NEVER convince Elder Weft to authorise that-- or Monty to let us wear it !!" "Not You-Us." Corrected one of the Candies, "We-Us ! Five ! And, thanks to Brod--" "ELDER Broderik--" "He's not here yet ! Yes, thanks to him, she already has the main pattern--" "And that tunic is quite cute !" "But the accessories--" "Same pattern, just--" "Oook !" "Six." Stated Alice, "Count me in !" "Seven." Charlene added, "Nine with the Tailor Twins, who'll be doing most of the work..." "Who else would be game ?" Sandy wondered, "Lara ? Sue ? " "Perhaps... Mari ?" "Doubt it... Um, Rhys ? What do you think ?" I struck that prim pose, put my nose in the air, started, "I must consult my Nest before--" then creased up. We were still hooting when quarter-to rolled around, time for me to close the counter. And, yes, I remembered to knock on Chris' door and make the appropriate enquiries...

This is what the Candies found...

Project Lorraine Chapter # 25: Train hard...

By the time I'd scrubbed and reached House Front, Joey had confiscated the Candies' hoods. If Elder Broderik wanted their pretty heads covered, then they'd wear authorised Catering hats-- albeit with a token green tab securely safety-pinned atop...

Now the Candies stood in front of the Diner's counter, flanked by Chef Joey and Sous-Chef Henry. Us Dinner Ladies formed behind the counter, our line dressed to near-military precision by Sue's hisses.

The Diner's lay-out had mutated. The TopTable was not a couple of regular 'laminates' pushed together, it was a stout, sectioned wooden top on strong trestles. It was surprisingly rough, looked as if many wood-peckers had used it for a punch-bag. There were a pair of grand wooden chairs at rear centre, benches behind and at the ends. Several stools grouped behind. There was no table-cloth or table settings, just two trays with inverted tankards. Behind the table, a heavy, un-decorated curtain hid the back-wall.

This Medieval-ish TopTable was separated from the usual decor by a dozen open feet and a tasselled rope slung between two waist-high pole-stands. Suddenly, Lara's comment about 'Cannibal Klingons' seemed more than a cruel quip.

We waited. The Diner's wall-clock ticked up to the hour. The Diner's doors flew open. Usually, a torrent of Juniors would pour through and ravage the menu, but not today. Monty strode in, wearing a formal tunic. At his right shoulder, an unfamiliar Elder with a green tabard glowered around. One half-stride behind and to the right of Elder Broderik's stand-in, a green tabarded Youngster flew wingman. Three more green tabarded Youngsters followed, scanning for threats. Frank and several co-opted Elders trailed after.

As the procession approached, Joey and Henry bowed, the Candies curtsied nimbly. "Elder, our Chef and Sous-Chef--" "Huh ! None of your fancy sauces today-- We eat REAL food !" "And your Table Servers--" "Only three ? Bah ! At least they are passing comely-- For Wenches !" He peered at them, "Their heads are almost bared ! What is this ?" "Elder, to serve in this Diner, they must wear such. Yet, they have adapted--" "Ah ? Huh-- A token at best..." He swung on the counter, "And these are your Menials ? A sorry bunch of aged incompetents, no doubt-- Yet THAT one is fair comely ! Why does she not serve table ?" "She is but a Student: You wish your platter spilled ?" "Then she may pour my Mead ! Send her to change !" "Elder, she is not of this Nest: She awaits her Sire's permission to wear such immodest garb--" "A Traditional ?" He peered at me, snarled, "Your name ?" "R-- Rhys, E-- Elder... " I stuttered, managed an exceptionally clumsy half-curtsey. "Rhys ? Rhys ? A good Welsh name ! And well-mannered, too ! From a small Nest, else I would recall it in the Litter Lists... So my Wenches are immodest, eh ? Your Sire orders you well ! His name ?" "I-- I may not speak of the Old Sire, Elder..."

My refusal gave him a moment's thought, "Ah ? How then did he Fall ? ANSWER ME THAT !!" "H-- Hunting, Elder !" "Hunting ? Hunting, eh ? How so ?" "A-- A tyre passed over him..." " 'Hit & Run', eh ? Well, there are worse ways to Fall..." He shifted tack, "Are you Given ?" "I-- I am promised to another Nest in trade..." "Your New Sire must mend old bridges... Talon ? Nubs ? You hear ?" "YES, ELDER !" They chorused, and pretended disappointment. The Talon was Adrian, wearing a pair of studded leather half-gloves and looking remarkably grim. Nubs Bob, Charlene and Dennis tried to look vicious, managed absurd and knew it.

"Pah !" Elder Broderik's stand-in spat, "Enough courtesy ! Let us at the food-- Such as it is !" Elders settled around the top Table. Talon and Nubs perched on stools and kept scanning. Sue and Lara followed the Chefs into the kitchen, returned with large, lidded platters. They placed them on the counter, went back for more. Candies ferried them to the TopTable until the surface was hidden. Now they bore flagons, enthusiastically filled the grouped tankards. I wondered if there would be any ritual, or complex drink-swapping, but no. Monty stood, slapped his left hand on the table-top hard enough to further scar it with his talon nubs. He hefted his tankard, called, "A toast: Live Long and Prosper !" "Live Long and Prosper !" They chorused, slapped the table, took huge swigs. Elder Broderik's stand-in stood, hefted his tankard, called, "Confusion to the Saps !" "Confusion to the Saps !" They echoed, washed it down. Monty sat, slapped the table a second time, "Let the feast begin !"

Waiting Candies snatched off platters' lids. The TopTable's Elders fell upon the contents, ripping gobs of red meat from the bones, hurling discards backwards, against the curtained wall. Drink flowed. Candies hastened to refill tankards before snarled demand. More flagons were brought and poured, tankards sloshed. The platters emptied rapidly, were cleared. Flagons ran dry. Monty stood, slapped a third time, "The feasting is done !" Elder Broderik's stand-in burped, inverted his tankard dregs onto the table-top, "Passable quality, but ample-- Yes, ample !" Then he put his arms on the table, his head on his arms and began to snore...

Long seconds passed. Finally, Frank cracked a grin, said, "Cut !" Elder Broderik's stand-in opened an eye, sat up, "Whew !" "Thoughts, Ralph ?" Monty asked. "My compliments to the Chef, of course !" Ralph grinned, "And to our nimble Wenches-- You're the infamous Milly, Molly, Mandy ?" "Sweet as Sugar Candy !" They chorused, grinning. "You'll do." Ralph nodded, "But Broderik may throw bones without concern for where you're stood." That gave them pause. Perhaps the hooded capelets did have a function beyond old fashion ?

"Now I must apologise to that unfortunate student--" "No, really--" Monty began. "Small Nest ? Lost her Old Sire ? Bundled off like a passel of dried fish ? Dropped in with Monty's Krazy Kids ? Scared sick ? Yes ! But, witless ? No ! She held it together, and that took nerve. Hmm... Was she speaking the truth about being promised to another Nest ?" "It would seem so." Monty allowed. "A shame... She would make a fine partner for Adrian--" "Uncle !" Adrian blushed pink and nearly fell off his stool. "Can't stop trying, Lad !" "Uncle, you know very well that Lily and I..." "And so do her Kin, which is why they keep trying to wheedle discounts from us..." Ralph turned to Monty, "Any chance I could have First Refusal ?" "I could make enquiries..." Monty admitted, "But it may complicate matters at a delicate time: Rhys is here at short notice, more or less as a favour to both Nests. I'm not privy to all the circumstances." "My honour and courtesy demand I apologise, Monty." "As you must..." Monty sighed, "We'll be in the Club Room..."

Ralph strode to the counter where us Dinner Ladies held our line, "Ah, good, Rhys ! You are still here !" "Elder ?" Of his trailing Youngsters, Bob and Dennis surely knew, Charlene did not. But, Adrian ?? He was sharp. I had to play this very, very carefully, and trust to my wits. "Young Rhys, I must apologise for my foul language and uncouth behaviour as 'Elder Broderik'. I hope you can believe me when I say they hurt me, too. This is not a part I wished to play." "Thank you, Elder !" I fumbled another ghastly curtsey. Behind him, Bob and Dennis struggled to contain themselves. Charlene puzzled. Adrian stared at me as if he'd seen a ghost. I avoided his eyes. "You must think Progressive Nests are full of crazy Vamps !" Ralph was not going to stop, "Actually, you are here at a rare moment of history ! Our arguments have drawn Elder Broderik from his old Haunt, perhaps for the last time ! We have a RogueBane again-- and the Ancient Office is held by a remarkable UnBent Sap ! These are strange times, indeed !"

"Uncle ?" Adrian began to tug at his sleeve, "Uncle--" Dennis elbowed Adrian ungently, "Let it go, Ade, she's not for you." "But--" Something flickered in Charlene's eyes, something wicked. She turned, grabbed Adrian by the arm and marched him off, "Now, Cousin, what did I tell you about asking shy Missies for a date ?" "But--" Ralph abandoned his monologue to watch the by-play, shrugged, "Youngsters ! Ah, as I was trying to say, if your move comes un-stuck, we've a good place for you." "Thank you, Elder !" This time my curtsey was almost competent. Ralph grinned, "Now I'd best step aside before the Little Monsters are let in-- Oh ! Here they come !"

I set to shovelling food onto Juniors' plates, was too busy to worry. Candies collected the TopTable's empty platters, ferried them back to the kitchen. With the Juniors' rush over, others queued to be served. Small portion, big portion, SMILE. Big portion, big portion, SMILE. Small portion-- "Rhys ? Rhys ??" I focussed on the speaker, played it straight, "Oh ! Hi, Adrian ! Your Uncle is very nice ! And he played the terrible Elder Broderik so well !" "Oh, yes, but-- Look, I'm so sorry-- Must have been such a shock to find Chris RogueBane wearing a death-mask of your half-Sib..." I flinched. Seems I owed Charlene, "He-- He went a little crazy after the Old