Part 6 (1/2)

Alex opened his mouth, surprised by Nick's statement, but the Rebel covered his mouth before he could say anything. ”Some things are better left for later.” He motioned with his eyes to signify that it was dangerous to talk on such a subject. ”Let me introduce you to the Rebels,” he said.

The Rebels now consisted of only twelve members. The rest, Nikolas explained, died in the war. There had been about 125000 alive before the war. The last battle had claimed 120000 Rebel casualties. The rest had been used for tests for the Silver-moon project. After the first phase, 3000 had died. Once the first phase had been completed, only 850 were left. During the second phase, only twelve made it. One by one, Nick introduced them.

The first Rebel he introduced was Varenkoff. ”I've read lots about you, General Varenkoff,” Alex said, smiling.

Varenkoff smiled back and shook Alex's hand, ”Please, call me Dante.” His black hair was tied in a ponytail and he donned a thin mustache. His eyes were the darkest Alex had ever seen, with a slight tinge of crimson. Alex could not help but look at his scar which ran down the length of his cheek from his left eye to his upper lip. Dante noticed this and laughed, pointing to it with his right finger, ”This, my dear boy, was a gift from Adiraan.”

”Oh,” said Alex, ”I'm sorry.”

”Don't be. I keep it as a memento; a precious memory of our days in the Rebellion.” Varenkoff's eyes looked beyond Alex, vacant and dreaming, in the same way that John's did when he spoke of the war.

”I thought vampires could regenerate,” Alex said.

”If they choose to, yes,” Varenkoff replied.

Nikolas went on to introduce the others: Efarius seemed to be the oldest of them all. He was lean and tall and his skin was tanned from hard work in the sun. He had worked in the farms as a serf for Anaxagoras. He smiled and shook hands with Alex. Efarius's hand felt hard and leathery.

Joqetu, a youngish looking Rebel with red hair bowed to Alex and shook hands with him. ”Finally,” he said, ”after all these years.”

”And this is Davik,” said Nikolas, introducing a tall Rebel with pleasant features. Davik's fair face smiled at the mention of his name and he shook Alex's hand. His grip was gentle.

The next Rebel, Gavin, stood with his arms crossed and his back straight. His muscular frame was tight and stiff. He smiled solemnly at Alex.

Noel was introduced next. He had been watching Alex constantly and was filled with awe and respect. His eyes widened as he took Alex's hand in his own.

Liam bowed slightly and shook Alex's hand. He had wild ragged hair that fell loose about his face. When he smiled, Alex saw his bright white fangs. ”It's an honor,” said Liam.

Yagnik shook Alex's hand next and brought him closer to embrace him. He watched Alex with interest. His light blonde hair was cut short and his eyes were the color of blue seas.

Orwen welcomed his leader's son, bowing and shaking his hand. He looked slightly nervous and his pale face seemed even paler when he looked at Alex with his large golden brown eyes. Moving his chestnut brown hair away from his face, he said, ”I never thought I'd see the day, Alex, but I'm glad I have.”

Hektor, a six and a half foot tall vampire, grabbed Alex by the arms, hugged him and laughed loudly. ”I'm so happy at last to see you, young Alexandros.” His face was covered under a huge messy beard that flowed down to his chest. The hair on his head flowed all the way down his back.

Finally, Quentin smiled at him and bowed, ”Good to see you,” he said. He was thinner than the others and moved quickly when introduced. Quentin was from a n.o.ble lineage and indeed had a regal air about him. The others came from humbler backgrounds and some were part of the military of Migra. Quentin was related to Nikolas, on his mother's brother's wife's side, being her third cousin.

Alex noticed that all the Rebels were s.h.i.+rtless and just wore military pants. ”Why aren't you guys armored?”

Nikolas said, ”Didn't you see what we can do? We have no need for armor.”

Alex shook his head.

”Watch.” The Rebels transformed their bodies into silver, like Nikolas had during the battle in the Regnum. Their whole bodies looked like s.h.i.+ny sculptures. Their muscles gleamed as the silver reflected the light. They looked like mechanical, robotic vampires.

”Wow!” Alex said, ”This is amazing!”

They levitated in the air, surrounding Alex in a circle like magnificent angels protecting him. They took their right arms and placed their hands a foot above Alex's head. From each arm came white beams of light, which shot into Alex's head. The converged light radiated a powerful aura, traveling down his spine and back, finally spinning clockwise around his vertebral column. The radiant light scattered throughout his nervous system and into his bloodstream, finally reaching his brain. It spread around and circled his brain like a bright halo. A thin white light emanated from the center of his spinal cord. It slowly rose from the base and through the cerebral cortex. His eyes shone like fire and he opened his loose mouth slightly. Suddenly he began to levitate alongside the others. The Imperial Vampires watched in awe, waiting for a command to do something, but no such command was given. Even Jacque, the Imperial commander of the mission, stared on in complete shock, watching the amazing spectacle of light and magic.

Alex spoke an ancient magical incantation in ancient Migritic. And at once, the pure white light flooded the entirety of the s.h.i.+p. A faint sound, like the one Alex had heard when he first drank the blood from the fountain, hummed incessantly. After four minutes, the light died out and the Rebels collapsed back down but Alex continued to hover in the air, cross-legged in a lotus position. The light still surrounded him.

The Imperial soldiers snapped out of their trance and the commander ordered the soldiers to bring Migra for those who had collapsed. Plastic packets of Migra, much like stored-up blood, were injected into them and little by little they recovered. Jacque asked Nick, ”What was all that about?”

”Nothing. Just something between us. Don't worry about him. He's taken our energy. When it wears off, he'll be fine.” Nikolas said.

”Taken your energy?” Jacque asked.

”In fact, he's taken everyone's here on the s.h.i.+p.” Nikolas said.

”I thought only powerful Ancients could do that. And even they needed to have permission first.”

”Yeah, I know. It's strange,” Nick said.

”So how long will he be like that?” Jacque looked at the hovering figure.

”Depending how much he took from us, I'd say he'll be fine by the time we land.”

”I hope so.”

Nick left to join the other Rebels. He said under his breath, ”I hope so too.”

John was sweating. He didn't understand anything that was going on, especially Jarad's statements and the actions after that. What about the a.s.sa.s.sination? Who was responsible for that? He decided that, politically, the best thing to do would be to go to the Central Hospital. It was only a five minute walk from Regnum Central Headquarters. He needed to show the people that it was not he who had planned the attack. He was painfully aware that other people might see it that way.

As he got out of his limo, the entire press community launched itself at him, bombarding him with questions about his affiliations with the Vampire Regime and rumors of his nephew joining the vampires. They asked him about his family history and his rule of power. He tried to ignore them as calmly as he could but his grim face betrayed the stress that he was under. He placed his hand over his burning throat, as he regurgitated a little stomach acid. Stress always set his ulcer off, although sometimes he wondered if might be the opposite way round. Perhaps it was the ulcer that made him so irritable. His guards did the best they could to protect him.

Once they reached the entrance of the hospital, John felt a sense of relief. The other members of the Council acknowledged him with silence, but he felt their subtle suspicion. At least it wasn't the lynching he'd feared. ”So what's the situation?” No one spoke. An unnatural silence widened the disparity between him and his fellow members. If he reacted in a negative way, they would surely win. ”Would,” he continued in an innocent voice, ”someone please tell me what's happening? How is Jarad?”

At the mention of Jarad, the whole Council looked him directly in the eyes. It was like the stand off at the last battle all over again. He was not going to fall back or jump at the accusations.

Just then, Richard Bacon, another Council member stepped out of an elevator and joined them. He had overheard the question. ”He's expecting you, John. I thought you'd know that,” said Richard.

Richard was tall, taller than John even, and he was lean. His face was aged, as if it had seen too much work. His eyes were perpetually squinted, yet gleaming with wonder. His nose was big and round and his lips were almost entirely covered with a furry mustache which entwined with his beard. He pulled back his dark, red-brown hair and regarded John.

John knew Richard very well. He had taken control as General in the Mediterranean during the Great War with the vampires. He was also John's right hand man in everything they did. They were great pals in high school and Richard was also the best man at his wedding. Sadly, Caryn died only two years after their marriage and fifteen years before the War broke out. John trusted Richard with his life and he knew his old buddy would never stab him in the back.

”Right, I'm going in to see him. Richard, I want you to come in with me.”

Richard nodded and followed John. The others stared daggers at them.

”Tell me,” John said as they stepped inside the elevator.

”I have to be blunt with you. They want you out. Dead or alive.”

John nodded. A sour smirk appeared on his face.

”But as far as Jarad is concerned,” Richard continued, ”I just don't know. He seems two-faced.”

”Yeah, that's Jarad for you. I knew he would be against me from the very beginning. I knew he wanted the Leader's Chair. He wants me dead and now he's gotten a clear cut chance to show himself without any fear of being discharged. He thinks that under the situation we're in he'll be able to take power.” John sighed and shook his head. ”Personally I don't care right now. I just want Alex back.”

The elevator stopped. They stepped out and Richard led the way to Jarad's room. Once they reached his room, 11203, Bacon opened the door and John entered inside. Jarad lay there in a semi-comatose state with various tubes coming out of him. There was an intravenous drip in his arm that administered medication and a blinking machine by his bedside. His eyes opened slightly, but at the sight of his rival, he closed them again, ignoring the two. John and Richard sat down on the metallic chairs next to his bed, one on either side. Jarad turned his head to John and smiled in a patronizing manner. John controlled himself.

”John,” Jarad's mouth formed the name without a sound.