Authors: Brian Lumley
The Source (33 page)
“Now all of this took time, almost five hundred years of gradual deterioration, but just a few years ago Dramal began to fear that the end was in sight, that one of the Great Undead was about to dieâor that he would soon become so weak that his retainers would rise up against him, stake and behead him, and burn his remains to ashes. Then they would flee the aerie, which was now generally considered a pesthole. He determined that before they could do that he must deposit his eggâbut not with one of the treacherous gang who now surrounded him. With the egg would go his power, of course, and the aerie would pass into the hands of his successor. So he took Karen Sisclu from an eastern Traveller tribe and made her one of the Wamphyri, and before he died transferred all of his power to her. In better times he would most certainly have passed on his egg through the sex act, but he no longer had the strength for that. He had expended all in teaching Karen the ways of the Wamphyri, the secrets of the aerie, and
in passing on his sigils and the loyalty of his various beasts. And so he merely kissed her; that was sufficient; during that monstrous kiss his egg passed into her.”
in passing on his sigils and the loyalty of his various beasts. And so he merely kissed her; that was sufficient; during that monstrous kiss his egg passed into her.”
Jazz couldn't suppress a small shiver. He grimaced and said: “God, what a world this is! But tell me: by âher condition' do you mean the fact that she's now Wamphyri, or is it worse than that? I mean, does she have Dramal's leprosy, too?”
“No, not that,” Zek answered, “but it's possible she's in an even worse fix, if you can imagine that. You see, Wamphyri legends have it that the first true Mother was a human female whose vampire produced more than the normal single egg. Indeed, the eggs were produced almost endlessly, until the vampire itself and its female host were drainedâuntil there was nothing left of them! They gave birth to vampires until the effort withered them to lifeless husks. And this was how Dramal had determined to repay the others of the Wamphyri for their scorn, their naming him Doombody and for his isolation: but mainly for the sheer evil of it. He would cause to be brought into this world a hundred vampire eggs, all of which would find hosts in the denizens of his aerie. Why, even the flying beasts and warrior creatures would
be
Wamphyri! Which would mean the debasement of the entire hag-ridden race! Do you understand?”
be
Wamphyri! Which would mean the debasement of the entire hag-ridden race! Do you understand?”
Jazz nodded, but a little uncertainly. “I think so. He hoped that Karen would become a Mother, that her vampire would produce the same endlesss stream of eggs. But how could he be sure?”
“Maybe he couldn't,” she shrugged. “Maybe he merely hoped it would be soâbut he told Karen it
would
be. And she, poor, damned, doomed creature that she is, she believes it. And the Wamphyri do have strange powers. Perhaps in some way he has engineered it. Anyway, he's gone now into corruption and so she waits, and the vampire in her slowly matures. Except ⦠some mature more quickly than others. In some it
is a matter of days, in others many years. If her vampire
is
a Mother, then she'll suffer the same fate as that first Mother of legend ⦠.”
would
be. And she, poor, damned, doomed creature that she is, she believes it. And the Wamphyri do have strange powers. Perhaps in some way he has engineered it. Anyway, he's gone now into corruption and so she waits, and the vampire in her slowly matures. Except ⦠some mature more quickly than others. In some it
is a matter of days, in others many years. If her vampire
is
a Mother, then she'll suffer the same fate as that first Mother of legend ⦠.”
Zek paused, and on impulse reached across and touched Jazz's face. Before she could withdraw her hand, he kissed her fingers. This, too, was on impulse. She smiled at him and shook her head.
“I know what you're thinking,” she said. “And I certainly don't have to read your mind. It's a grasshopper mind anyway; from such a very dire subject toâdalliance?âin one move.” Then she grew serious again. “But you're right, Jazz, this is a very terrible world. And we're not out of it yet by a long shot. We should both save our strength.”
“I've noticed,” he told her, “that you've been sticking pretty close to me. Maybe it's as well I can't read
your
mind.”
your
mind.”
She laughed. “There are a lot of unattached male Travellers, Jazz,” she said. “Now to them, and to Lardis too, it will seem I've made up my mindâwhether I have or not. This way I won't have to keep fending them off. But don't make me keep fending you off, too, for I'm not sure how well I'd succeed.”
He gave a mock sigh, grunted, “Promises, promises!” Then he grinned. “OK, you win. And anyway, I ache enough already.”
Â
At the end of the next leg of their journey, the sun appeared to have moved some degrees eastward, at the same time sinking appreciably lower in the sky; or maybe it was just that the Travellers had come down out of the foothills, so lowering their horizon. Whichever, Jazz noticed a definite urgencyâa heightened awarenessâin Lardis and his people; the pass through the mountains was still only a few miles to the east, and the sun's descent seemed that much more obvious. Yes, and Shaithis of the Wamphyri had a score to settle, so
the sooner the tribe reached its cavern sanctuary the better.
the sooner the tribe reached its cavern sanctuary the better.
Following a fairly well-defined trail down out of the foothills, the going had been quick and surprisingly easy. A little less than twenty miles had been covered in the time allowed for only half of that, and Lardis was well pleased. He called camp on the westward bank of a river at the edge of the great forested region, told his people they could have four hours of rest. He sent out hunters, too, into the thigh-length savanna grass after whichever birds and animals lived there. Then he found himself a spot on the riverbank and cast a line there, and sat in the long twilight with his back to the bank fishing and making his plans.
Meanwhile his men had found signs left by runners, (free- and far-ranging members of the tribe who acted as Lardis's intelligence agents) which corroborated previously arranged liaison points for both the next Traveller group, only five miles ahead, and the primary encampment some twenty to twenty-five miles beyond that. As Lardis got his hook into a large catfish and hauled it ashore, he was well satisfied. Things seemed to be working out exactly to schedule.
As for Jazz and Zek: while she bathed in the river he worked on her SMG, clearing the blockage and oiling the parts, getting the weapon back into serviceable order. In the event of another confrontation, two guns would be better than one. Also, Jazz had called for the rest of his equipment to be brought to him; he wanted at least one member of this Gypsy band he travelled with, preferably Lardis himself, to understand the workings of various itemsâspecifically the flamethrower. When his gear arrived, Jazz found to his surprise that no one seemed to have tampered with his packs since he'd re-packed them. And maybe that was just as well. In the bottom of one pack there was a small nest of six deadly Russian fragmentation grenades. About the same size as hen eggs, they reminded Jazz of foil-covered
chocolate Easter eggs in the compartmented, sawdust-packed tray of their wooden box. If anyone had tampered with
those
⦠Jazz supposed he'd have heard about it long before now.
chocolate Easter eggs in the compartmented, sawdust-packed tray of their wooden box. If anyone had tampered with
those
⦠Jazz supposed he'd have heard about it long before now.
Lardis, on his way to the campfire with the huge catfish jerking spasmodically where it lay across his shoulder, nodded to Zek and Jazz on the riverbank and called out: “Let me just rid myself of this, then I'll be back to see these tricks of yours.”
They watched his burly figure out of sight over the rim of the bank, then turned back to what they were doing. While Zek finished drying her hair, Jazz tested her gun one last time; he drew back its cocking piece sharply and was rewarded by the clean, clear, very familiar
ch-ching
of metal parts engaging. Then he squeezed the trigger and the breach-block flew forward, slapped firmly home. Jazz nodded his satisfaction, put the gun on safe and slotted a full magazine into its housing. He handed the weapon to Zek and said: “There, and now you're a power in the world again. I still have six full mags and ammo to refill four of them. That's five apiece. Hardly an armory, but a sight better than nothing.”
ch-ching
of metal parts engaging. Then he squeezed the trigger and the breach-block flew forward, slapped firmly home. Jazz nodded his satisfaction, put the gun on safe and slotted a full magazine into its housing. He handed the weapon to Zek and said: “There, and now you're a power in the world again. I still have six full mags and ammo to refill four of them. That's five apiece. Hardly an armory, but a sight better than nothing.”
He picked up a grenade and weighed it in his hand. It had a twist-action, ring-pull pin. Packed with high explosive, on detonating the shell would break down into two hundred curved metal splinters, each one scything outwards from the blast at the speed of a bullet. Devastating! Even the most powerful vampire Lord wouldn't stand a chance against one of these. At the very least he'd be maimed, and at best decapitated. Jazz would have used them back in the pass that time, except he hadn't been sure what Arlek's lot had done with the grenades, and anyway his SMG had been more immediate.
Zek dragged his thoughts back to the here and now with: “Do you want me to tell you about the Lady Karen's aerie?”
Jazz stood up, said: “Yes, while I bathe. I'm starting to smell like you did the first time we met! Shouldn't look if I were youâit's gruesome in here.” He stripped down to his shorts, took a dive into the water. Then he swam back close to the bank and started washing himself. “OK,” he said, “let's hear about these vampire castles. I've a feeling it won't be pleasant, but whatever you consider to be worth the telling ⦔
And so she continued with her story â¦
Karen's AerieâHarry at Perchorsk
“FIRST OF ALL. LET ME EXPLAIN THAT NO HUMAN BEING could ever adequately describe an aerie of the Wamphyri. I don't think our language, or any language of the old world, has the right words for it. Or if there are such words, then the description would become so repetitiousâso laced with grisly-sounding adjectivesâthat the entire exercise would soon become a bore.
“That's why I'll tell it as I saw it, like describing a picture or series of pictures, without putting too much emphasis on the grotesque anomalies and abnormalities of the ⦠but there!âdo you see what I mean?
“The Lady Karen's aerie had belonged to Dramal Doombody, and so it has to be fairly representative of all the aeries, or castles if you wish, where they sit atop those fantastic stacks. So let's begin with the stacks themselves:
“As far as I was able to tell they're natural, weathered out from the mountains in their slow retreat. Why the stacks should remain while the earth around them crumbled ⦠I'm no geologist. Maybe they were once the cores of a series of volcanoes, choked with a basalt magma which was tougher than the surrounding cones. The craters have long gone but these titan plugs remain. That's theory, of course, and anyway it doesn't matter.
The stacks are real; and since time immemorial the Wamphyri have built their aeries on them.
The stacks are real; and since time immemorial the Wamphyri have built their aeries on them.
“But just looking at a stack from a distance, you don't see the entire picture. By that I mean that you don't see the actual stack. It's there, inside the shell, but what you see is that shell, which through the ages the Wamphyri have built around the inner core. So ⦠the next question has to be: what is this artificial âskin' made of?
“Well, I think the best way to answer that would be to liken a stack to coral on a submarine shelf. The stone is there, and the living coral forms a skin on it, and the skin dies and itself becomes stone. So on the submarine shelf the âskin' is dead coral. And on the stacks ⦠it's dead flesh.
“When an aerie requires repairs or extensions, the Wamphyri breed cartilage creatures whose sole function is to bridge a gap, form a section of wall, roof over a new hall or causeway. Which is to say,
their living bodies
form the building or repair materials. Except I said âbreed' and that's the wrong word. They don't really breed anything, they merely
change
what already is. They take out of storage a troglodyte, perhaps, or punish a vampirized henchman who has been remiss in some way, or maybe steal a Traveller or two from Sunside. All human or sub-human flesh is the same to the Wamphyri. They can take it, change it, mould it to their individual needs. These cartilage things lock themselves in position wherever they're required, die and eventually fossilize there. Being of vampire originâhaving been vampirizedâthey take a long time to die; maybe they don't die as we understand it, but simply age and become ⦠fixed.
their living bodies
form the building or repair materials. Except I said âbreed' and that's the wrong word. They don't really breed anything, they merely
change
what already is. They take out of storage a troglodyte, perhaps, or punish a vampirized henchman who has been remiss in some way, or maybe steal a Traveller or two from Sunside. All human or sub-human flesh is the same to the Wamphyri. They can take it, change it, mould it to their individual needs. These cartilage things lock themselves in position wherever they're required, die and eventually fossilize there. Being of vampire originâhaving been vampirizedâthey take a long time to die; maybe they don't die as we understand it, but simply age and become ⦠fixed.
“So what I'm saying is this: when you walk through an aerie, as often as not you're surrounded by the fused, polished bones and the hard, leathery hides of what were once men. And if you look closely enoughâwhich is something you very quickly learn
not
to doâ
then you start to recognize the shapes of altered rib-cages, thigh bones, spinal columns and even ⦠but I think you get the picture.
not
to doâ
then you start to recognize the shapes of altered rib-cages, thigh bones, spinal columns and even ⦠but I think you get the picture.
“The Wamphyri can stand extremes of cold. That's not to say they prefer it, simply that they seem inured. Except when under siege, they do heat their stacks with a complicated sort of central heating. Gasses are burned in the base of the stack and the hot air is channelled through pipesâgreat, hollow bones, usuallyâto every level. Other pipes carry the gas itself, which may then be burned as required. There are two sources for these gasses.
“Each aerie has its refuse pit. âRefuse' to a Wamphyri Lord can be anything from bodily wastes to wasted bodies. You know what vampires feed on. Well, they're not obliged to (indeed they can go without blood, without sustenance generally, indefinitely) and they do vary their diets with vegetable fibers, various oils, even fruits which are gathered during sundown on Sunside. They have vast storehouses of foods such as these, not to mention larders of suspended troglodytes and Travellers. In this instance, let's consider their âusual' fare.
“If a person is eaten and it is not desired that he or she becomes a vampire, then the remains of the meal go to the refuse pit along with all other garbage. Consider that a stack or aerie may house a thousand or moreâcreaturesâand you get something or an idea of the
contents
of a refuse pit. Gasses are of course generated in large volumes. These are the gasses which are usually burned close to their source, in the bowels of the stack. Wamphyri conduits are leaky systems at best, and if gasses such as these are allowed to escape ⦠the atmosphere in the rest of the aerie would be quite intolerable.
contents
of a refuse pit. Gasses are of course generated in large volumes. These are the gasses which are usually burned close to their source, in the bowels of the stack. Wamphyri conduits are leaky systems at best, and if gasses such as these are allowed to escape ⦠the atmosphere in the rest of the aerie would be quite intolerable.
“Also to be found in the lower levels are the stables of the gas-beasts. These are what their name describes them to be: living gas bladders, as mindless as the cartilage creatures. Their single function is the production
of gas. They are fed on coarse grasses and a little grain; obviously, the gas these beasts produce is close to methane; I don't think I need to explain further than that â¦
of gas. They are fed on coarse grasses and a little grain; obviously, the gas these beasts produce is close to methane; I don't think I need to explain further than that â¦
“Water:
“Now, I said that in their way the Wamphyri are scrupulous. The Lady Karen bathed frequently, as often as I myself. I watched her bathing and it was as if she tried to scrub the taint out of herself, which of course she never could. But she didn't stop trying. Oh, she talked hard to her retainers, but what was she inside but a poor frightened girl? At least, she had been.
“Anyway, you'll appreciate that water does not rise as readily as gas. In our world it has to be pumped uphill, or ârammed' under pressure, or else it arrives by aquaduct from a source higher still. The aeries have their catchment areas, inward-sloping skins on all levels, channelling rain water into great barrels with overflow systems into other barrels. In the event of a great downpour, wells at the foot of the stacks are filled to brimming. When all reservoirs are filled, then the skins are allowed to hang loose like flags. In fact they're woven with the various Wamphyri sigils and so act as their banners as well. But the rains are infrequent and if an aerie were under siege this system alone would be unreliable. That's why there's a back-up.
“You'll understand the meaning of âcapillary attraction'? The way sap rises through a stem, or water between sheets of glass? The Wamphyri use capillary attraction to lift water from their wells to the top of the aeries. The tubes through which the water passes are quite literally capillariesâthose same narrow tubes which connect veins and arteries.
Real
capillaries, Jazz, whose owners lie in placid heaps of pseudolife in secret rooms high in the aeries. Secret because the Wamphyri will not tolerate their creatures except in their proper places. They know the difference between acceptable and unacceptable, you see. And the proper place for the thing
whose veins hang down inside pipes through half a mile or more of stack is, obviously, at the top of such a stack. And so, because they're unseemly, the Wamphyri hide them away.
Real
capillaries, Jazz, whose owners lie in placid heaps of pseudolife in secret rooms high in the aeries. Secret because the Wamphyri will not tolerate their creatures except in their proper places. They know the difference between acceptable and unacceptable, you see. And the proper place for the thing
whose veins hang down inside pipes through half a mile or more of stack is, obviously, at the top of such a stack. And so, because they're unseemly, the Wamphyri hide them away.
“I stumbled across just such a room and its inhabitants in the Lady Karen's aerie. That's all I can remember of it that I found it, and then that someone found me and took me out of there. I had fainted. My mind hasn't retained anything of the episode except the fact that it happened. And this was only retainedâas a warning, I supposeâin case I should forget totally and wander back that way again.
“Also to be found in the lower regions: the pens of the warriors. The warrior creatures are kept, like lions in a Roman amphitheatre, close to starvation. Or they would be except for one thing: like the Wamphyri, they don't need to eat. When they do eat, their food is invariably meat, preferably living. They are pure carnivores, created to tear, maim, killâand devour. Their reward in battle is to be allowed to glut themselves. They fly into battle, launching themselves from the stacks and squirting through the sky like giant squids; but if they're victorious, they soon become far too bulky to fly back again to their aerie and so return across the boulder plains as best they can. Apart from battle proper, the Wamphyri also use them during sundown for the rounding up of Travellers. Then, too, if they are successful, they're allowed the occasional tidbit.
“But enough about them. Just pray God, if you're a believer, that you never see one. And especially that you never see one in battle â¦
“Flying beasts are stationed in various levels. You've seen
them
and know what they look like. They aren't especially dangerous, not on their own. Grounded they're clumsy, stupid; aloft they are graceful in their own alien sort of way. For control they are linked closely with their mastersâby telepathy. It has to be that way when
the Wamphyri ride them to battle. They are the sky-floating command-posts of their masters.
them
and know what they look like. They aren't especially dangerous, not on their own. Grounded they're clumsy, stupid; aloft they are graceful in their own alien sort of way. For control they are linked closely with their mastersâby telepathy. It has to be that way when
the Wamphyri ride them to battle. They are the sky-floating command-posts of their masters.
“One other thing about the Wamphyri in battle: they have their own codes of combat, their own warped âvalues' and ideas about valour, chivalry and such! Can you imagine that? But each one of them changes these values to suit himself, to his own advantage. If ever it gets down to hand-to-hand combat, one against one, the single weapon deemed allowable by high-ranking aerie mastersâthe Lords and their aides or lieutenantsâis the war-gauntlet. Somewhere in the east, in a small Gypsy settlement, those hideous weapons are made to order for the Wamphyri. All metal things are made for them; they have no understanding of metalworking, or more correctly, they have a general dislike for metals. Silver is a poison, iron despised, only gold is relatively acceptable.
“So, I've covered a few points, helped to give you something of a picture of Wamphyri life and how their aeries operate. It's all too complicated for me to be more specific than that. Now, if you still want to hear it, I'll go on and tell you about my own experiences in the Lady Karen's aerie ⦔
Â
Jazz had finished bathing and now climbed out of the river. He felt a lot easier, relaxed; the water had washed away most of his coiled-spring tension. He squeegeed the water from his body with the hard edges of his hands, shivered a little in the oh-so-gradually fading rays of the sun where it sat over the horizon's edge. As he began to dress and before Zek could continue her story, they spotted Lardis returning across the rim of the riverbank.
Jazz had dissembled most of his combat-suit harness, leaving only the belt and upper cross-straps with their various attachments. As Lardis arrived and cast a speculative eye over the several items of gear where they lay spread out, so Zek gave Jazz a helping hand to get
himself kitted-up again. He preferred to sleep fully-rigged, or at the very least in “skeleton order,” so that he could wake up ready for any eventuality.
himself kitted-up again. He preferred to sleep fully-rigged, or at the very least in “skeleton order,” so that he could wake up ready for any eventuality.
Finally, taking out a cigarette and lighting it, Jazz turned to the Gypsy leaderâin time to see him twist and yank the pin from a fragmentation grenade!
Jazz drew air in a gasp, threw Zek aside and down, leaped toward Lardis. The other had not yet seen the consternation on Jazz's face. He frowned at the grenade in his left hand and the pin in his right. Jazz snatched the grenade away from him. He'd been counting in his head:
one, two, three
â
one, two, three
â
He hurled the grenade out over the river.
Four, five
â
Four, five
â
It made a small splashâand immediately made a much larger one!
The detonation thundered, but most of the razor-sharp shrapnel was lost in the river. Some fragments whistled where they slashed the air overhead; a fountain of water rose up, sprayed out, fell back; the echoes of the detonation came back from the foothills and the water of the river in wavelets against the bank. Dozens of stunned or dead fish were already floating to the surface.
Lardis closed his mouth, looked at the firing-pin in his handâhurled it violently away. “Eh?” he said then. “Whatâ?”
Jazz scowled at him, said: “Pretty effective fishing!”
His sarcasm was lost on Lardis. “Eh? Oh, yes, I suppose it is!” The squat, bemused man turned away, went to climb the riverbank and calm his people where they came running.
“Indeed
it is!” he finally, emphatically agreed. “But I think I prefer to do it my way.” He glanced at Jazz's weaponry laid out on the riverbank. “Er, show me these interesting things of yours some other time. Right now I've much to do.”
“Indeed
it is!” he finally, emphatically agreed. “But I think I prefer to do it my way.” He glanced at Jazz's weaponry laid out on the riverbank. “Er, show me these interesting things of yours some other time. Right now I've much to do.”
Jazz and Zek watched him walk away â¦
Â
Â
As Jazz packed his kit again and settled down comfortably where he intended to sleep, Zek continued her story:
“I had my own room in Karen's aerie. She and I shared the topmost levelâliterally acres of room, all of them enormousâwhere we were the only human creatures. Remember, the Wamphyri
are
human; it's the vampire in each one of them which makes him alien, and Karen's vampire had yet to gain total ascendancy. So we were the only
people
up there, but there was a warrior. It was a small one of its sort, which is to say it was about as big as an armoured personnel carrier and just as deadly! It guarded the stairwell to the next lower level. That was how well Karen trusted her aides.
are
human; it's the vampire in each one of them which makes him alien, and Karen's vampire had yet to gain total ascendancy. So we were the only
people
up there, but there was a warrior. It was a small one of its sort, which is to say it was about as big as an armoured personnel carrier and just as deadly! It guarded the stairwell to the next lower level. That was how well Karen trusted her aides.
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