Victor Gischler - Vampire A Go-Go

Roderick entered the stone chamber, motioned for Kelley to follow him. “Help me position the lenses.”

Kelley had watched the elaborate construction process as a dozen men had labored to install the apparatus. The machine consisted of a series of round frames into which the lenses were slid into place. There were eight sets of lenses, with three lenses in each set. Pulleys and levers had been rigged to raise or lower the lenses into place, and there were multiple permutations of ways the lenses could be arranged. Roderick and Kelley lowered the apparatus until the lenses encircled the iron box.

“I want the middle lenses only,” Roderick said.

Kelley turned screws, loosening the middle lenses in their brackets, lowering them into place, then tightening the screws again.

“Okay,” Roderick said. “Out of the room.”

They retreated back into the hall and shut the iron door with a clang. A window about the size of a serving tray had been cut into the door, thick and obscenely expensive glass separating the observers from the goings-on within. After having conducted several experiments, Roderick had described the additional precautions as likely unnecessary but prudent nonetheless.

Roderick stood close to the door and peered through the window at the iron box and lenses, with the corpses sitting limply by. He signaled Kelley.

Kelley went to the big crank on the wall, grabbed the handle with both hands, grunted, put his back into it, and started turning. He picked up speed. The crank turned a shaft that connected to gears on the other side of the wall that connected to another shaft, which ran along the ceiling to more gears that turned the apparatus.

The lenses began to spin around the iron box, slowly at first. They picked up speed until they were a shimmering glass blur surrounding the box. Sweat broke out on Kelley’s forehead and under his arms, but he kept up the pace.

When Roderick judged the speed sufficient, he pulled the lever that opened the iron box. The stone glowed a deep red, lighting up the lenses with almost blinding intensity. Kelley had seen it before and had thought, at first, that the light show had actually been quite beautiful.

Until he’d seen the result.

Roderick motioned Rudolph to the window. “Come witness, Your Highness.”

The emperor paused. “Is it safe?”

“Quite safe behind the protective barrier, I assure you.” Roderick knocked on the iron door to indicate its sturdiness. “Come see. The effects will soon make themselves evident.”

Rudolph approached the window tentatively until he was standing shoulder to shoulder with the astrologer, his nose a half inch from the window glass. The Holy Roman Emperor was obviously curious. Years of planning and a small fortune had gone into his scheme. Just as obvious was the fact that he was a little nervous. Even emperors reported to a higher power.

The interior of the chamber was awash in bloodred light, pulsing as the stone emanated its rays.

“Observe, Highness.” Roderick pointed. “Like our sun in the sky, the stone emits a spectrum of rays with a variety of properties. I believe the stone is attuned with the very fabric of reality, the same force that controls the tides and the seasons. The special lenses filter out the properties we don’t want or need while allowing the beneficial properties to continue on. By controlling these rays we can achieve different effects. There! It begins.”

Nothing happened at first. The emperor watched, unblinking, through the window, holding his breath. Then there was movement so slight it seemed a mirage at first. But when Rudolph gasped, Kelley knew the emperor had seen it.

A flutter of a single finger to start off. The male corpse lifted his head first, lurched out of the chair to stand on wobbling legs, head lolling like a dead chicken’s. It opened its mouth, and a sort of choking cry erupted from its gob.

Rudolph crossed himself, a gesture Kelley had never seen the emperor make.

“You’ve brought him back to life,” Rudolph said with awe.

“Er, well, not quite, Highness,” Roderick admitted. “They are merely animated-undead, if you will.”

“Undead?”

“Yes, a sort of state between life and death,” Roderick said.

“And that’s what you think I wanted?” The emperor’s stare was as hard and flat as the iron door.

“No!” Roderick’s eyes went wide. “Of course not, Highness. My goodness, no. I’m merely pointing out that we’ve taken such a big stride. Not immortality, not yet, but not death either. We haven’t quite conquered death, but we’ve given it a good kick in the family jewels.”

Rudolph nodded toward the shambling corpse. “Death would seem a preferable state to that .”

“You’re right of course, Highness.” Roderick bowed formally. “Still, they are rather durable. We’ve made a dozen or so the past week, and they’re damn hard to get rid of. Chop off an arm or a leg and they keep going, eh? Might actually be a little more like immortality than we thought.” Roderick chuckled.

Rudolph did not laugh. At all.

Roderick cleared his throat. He wiped sweat from the back of his neck. “Your Highness is rightfully concerned. I simply wanted to demonstrate that we’re doing some amazing things. I feel certain it’s a matter of time before we find the right combination, filtering out the bad properties and allowing only select ones to bathe the subject. Life, Highness. It is within our grasp. I know it.”

The emperor looked back at the zombie, which was now clawing uselessly at the wall. “Immortal life. Is science the answer, Roderick, or are we damning ourselves?”

“Highness, if there is a God, then surely He has given man dominion over all the earth. This stone may be from the heavens, but it fell to earth. Surely God has sent it to us, perhaps even as a test. I think it’s our lot to push our intellects to the breaking point, to divine that which our Lord has sent us. Maybe He’s testing us. Perhaps it’s the ultimate test.”

“Perhaps,” Rudolph said quietly.

Roderick signaled Kelley to cease cranking. He pulled the lever to close the iron box. Kelley rubbed his shoulders. He’d worked up a good sweat.

Rudolph put his hand against the glass, looking into the chamber, as if mesmerized. “What about the other one?”

“Highness?”

“The other dead body. The young girl. She… it… isn’t moving.”

“Not uncommon, Highness. Sometimes the procedure fails to yield results. Perhaps certain bodies are not receptive.” A shrug. “It’s one of the mysteries that make our research so fascinating.”

“Yes. Fascinating.” The emperor’s face remained blank. “I must think on this. Thank you, gentlemen, for the demonstration.” He turned and left, a shadow seeming to hang over him.

“That’s damned peculiar,” Roderick said after Rudolph had gone. “I thought he would be more enthusiastic.” He scratched at his beard, contemplating.

“Maybe he was ashamed,” Kelley muttered.

“Eh?” Roderick lifted his head. “What was that?”

“Nothing. What should I do with it?” He indicated the zombie.

The astrologer looked up and down the hall. “Damn. All the soldiers have gone. It usually takes three or four each to hack them down safely. Can you let him chase you into the storage room we set up, Kelley?”

“They bite.”

“Yes, but they’re so slow. They just sort of shuffle along, don’t they?”

Kelley sighed. “That worked fine when the room was empty, but now I’ll run straight into a mob of them if I lead the new ones inside. It’s getting crowded in there.”

“Hmmmm, we’ll need to devise some new way to dispose of them, I suppose. Maybe we can burn them all when the room is full.”