Judith Merril - The Year's Greatest Science Fiction & Fantasy 4

“I am a Count,” said Boris in a strangled voice.

“Maybe you were,” said Smith airily, “but who wants Counts? What counts now is the front you put on. Dress like big money, talk like big money and, brother, you’ll get big money.” He beamed in self-satisfaction. “Believe me, I know.”

“What’s the good of money,” said Sammy from the shadows. “It can’t buy you anything, not now.”

“It will.” Smith was confident in his own knowledge of the human race. “And the smart ones are those who get in on the ground floor.”

Boris grunted in disgust; he was a quiet old vampire who believed in keeping himself to himself and not making enemies. It was a system of life which had stood him in good stead in the past and he saw no reason to change just because some young squirt thought he knew it all. He gave a dry laugh at the prospect of deflating the young vampire. Sammy spoilt his fun. “Better tell Smith what he has to know,” he said. “After all, you owe it to him in a way.”

“I owe him nothing,” snorted the old vampire. “What has he ever done for me?”

“You want me to answer that?” Smith grew annoyed as he thought about it. It wasn’t that he objected too much to his new status but the principle behind it annoyed him. He was firm in his belief of the paradox of free enterprise and the sanctity of property, especially private property, and Boris had successfully pulled off a very personal theft. And there was nothing he could do about it.

“Tell him, Boris,” said Sammy again. “You owe it to the lad.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” snapped Smith. He expanded his chest. “I’ve read a bit and I know what the score is. I know what to eat and know that I’ve to return to my grave before dawn.” Suddenly he looked haggard. “My grave! Hell! I’d never be able to find it again in a month of Sundays!”

Boris snorted with amused contempt. “That’s for the comic books,” he said. “All that guff about returning to our graves before dawn, I mean. All that’s necessary is that you stay out of sunlight; the actinic rays will trigger off skin cancers. Artificial light’s all right but nothing containing ultra violet.”

“That so?” Smith looked relieved. “Anything else you should tell me while you’re at it?”

“Only to respect your elders,” snapped Boris. “And don’t get careless or you’ll wind up with a stake through the heart or a bullet through the ribs. And it needn’t be a silver bullet either.” He broke off as an animal howled from the darkness.

“Here’s Lupe,” said Sammy happily, and threw more twigs on the fire.

A big, sleek Alsatian-like dog loped into the firelight, sat down and promptly changed into a man. Even in human form he retained a slightly wolf-like air. He nodded to the others.

“Hi! How’s tricks?”

“I’m starving,” grumbled Boris.

“So am I.” Sammy belched wind and rubbed his stomach. “I’ve been living off my fat for so long now that soon I’ll be too weak to take a bite if I had the chance.” He looked hopefully at the werewolf. “Any news?”

“Wife’s had a new litter,” said Lupe proudly. “Three boys and two girls.” He beamed at their congratulations. “Things aren’t as easy as they might be but I’m making out.” He lifted a foot and scratched himself behind one ear. He noticed Smith’s boggle-eyed stare. “New boy?”

“Just born,” said Sammy. “Boris was responsible for him.”

“Congratulations,” said Lupe politely to the old vampire. “How’s he shaking down?”

“Well, he hasn’t gone crazy on us yet,” said Sammy thoughtfully.

Boris changed what was, to him, obviously a painful subject. “Any other news?”

“The rabbits are getting more plentiful,” said Lupe.

“Rabbits!” Boris screwed up his mouth. Sammy echoed his sentiments.

“Rabbits might be good eating for you, Lupe, but not for us. Anything else?”

“I don’t think so.” The werewolf frowned. “There was just one more thing, now I come to think about it, but it’s slipped my mind.” He waved a hand. “Never mind, I guess it’ll come back if it was important.” He returned to the subject closest to his heart. “I wish you could see the youngsters; fine kids, all of them.”

“You’re breeding fast,” said Sammy enviously. “Sure you aren’t going a little too fast?”

“I don’t think so.” Lupe scratched the other ear. “I’m keeping the litters down as low as I can but we daren’t get too low. Anyway, all our troubles will be over when they come out.”

“You can say that again,” said Sammy with real feeling. He smacked his lips. “Hell, I never thought that I’d miss humans so much.”

“Nor me,” said Boris fervently. “Why, once in the old days when they were pressing close I even wished a plague on them.” He sighed. “Right now I could do with the old days, stakes, garlic, silver bullets and all. Modern times were a gift, sure, but look how things wound up.”

They nodded, even Smith, all agreeing that the human race had hardly played fair.

“When they come out,” said Sammy thoughtfully, “we’ll have to take things easy. Treat them gently and give them a chance to breed.”

“That’s right,” agreed Lupe. “Build up the supply before we can let loose the demand. Personally, though, I’m not worried too much. My guess is that they wouldn’t have taken many dogs down under The Tombstone with them or, if they did, then they’d have to restrict them to the limit. Anyway, they’d welcome a change.” He bared his teeth, concentrated, and changed into a handsome pseudo-Alsatian. He was grinning as he resumed human form. “See what I mean?”

“Humans were always suckers for dogs,” said Boris enviously. “I’ve often wondered why you just didn’t move right in and take over.”

“Why should we?” Lupe shook his head at the vampire’s ignorance. “No need to kill the goose, you know. They never suspected us, not after the Middle Ages, and many a human has worked himself silly to support us in luxury.” He scowled. “When I think of how many of us got caught in the Big Bang—!”

“We all got caught in it.” Sammy kicked at the fire.

The rest nodded, agreeing with Sammy all the way. Smith didn’t say anything. He was still a little confused and more than inclined to think he was in a dream. But fantastic as everything seemed it all made a peculiar kind of sense. Ghouls, vampires and werewolves were, obviously, very real. Divergent branches of human stock, perhaps, ultra specialists who had become utterly dependent on the human race for their sustenance. Lupe and his kind had adapted best of all but, in the final essence, they were all parasites. He too, now he came to think of it; and suddenly he was very conscious of their concern over the survival of the few humans left beneath The Tombstone.

Parasites cannot live without a host.

Lupe stretched himself, yawned, and rose to his feet. “Well,” he said, “I guess that we’d better get on with it.” Changing to animal form he began to run over the cracked, overgrown expanse of the slab of cadmium concrete which was The Tombstone. Nose to the ground, tail waving, he looked every inch a splendid specimen of the canine species. Even Smith, who knew better, had to restrain a desire to call to him so that he could pat his head.

“What’s he doing?” he asked.

“Checking up,” said Sammy. “Lupe’s got sharper senses than we have and he’s finding out whether or not they are still moving around down there.” He held up his hand for silence. “Watch him!”

Lupe looked over his shoulder, grinned, then vanished behind a clump of scrub. When he reappeared he was in human shape.