manage your business from the Cathedral, of course. I'd make certain you had whatever technology you require for your work: voxes, Aethernet access…'
'That's… very generous of you, Father,' Devona said. 'But I assure you, I'll be fine. Won't I, Matt?'
When I didn't answer right away, Devona scowled. 'Won't I?' she repeated in a tone that said I'd better hurry up and agree with her if I knew what was good for me.
'I can't believe I'm saying this, but maybe you should give some thought to Galm's proposal.' I hurried on before she could interrupt. 'I know you hate the idea of being shut away from the world like some too-delicate thing that can't take care of herself. And I know that Galm and I sound like a couple of sexist Neanderthals for suggesting it.' I glanced at Galm. 'Although as old as he is, he probably can't help acting like a caveman since he literally was one once.'
Galm frowned at me but said nothing, so I went on.
'Back on Earth, when a woman has a high-risk pregnancy, doctors often advise her to avoid strenuous activity and remain at home on bed rest. Not because they're patronizing her, but because they truly believe that's what's best for her health and the health of her baby. I'll support whatever decision you make – you know that – but I think you should make your decision based on logic, not emotion.'
Devona looked at me for a long moment. Not only was her expression unreadable, but I couldn't sense anything through our link, and I knew she was shutting me out, psychically speaking.
'That's good advice,' she said to me at last, and then turned to her father. 'That's how you always make decisions, isn't it? Logically. I'd almost started to believe that there might have been some scrap of emotion motivating your offer to have me stay in the Cathedral, but you never do anything unless it's in your best interest or that of the Bloodborn – and as far as you're concerned, they amount to the same thing, don't they? You created me because you hoped I'd possess psychic abilities you'd find useful. And while those abilities have grown and strengthened over the last few months, they aren't so powerful or irreplaceable that you'd rescind my exile just to get them back. No, there has to be another reason behind your offer, and since you don't want me or my powers, it must be my baby that you want.'
I felt a surge of anger upon hearing Devona's words, and I felt like kicking myself for being dumb enough to think that Galm might've actually cared about his daughter's health.
For his part, Galm gave no response to Devona, but while his face remained as impassive and cold as an ice sculpture, there was something in his gaze that told me Devona had hit upon the truth.
'What makes my baby so special?' she asked.
Galm didn't answer right away, but Devona just glared at him, and eventually he let out a surprisingly human-sounding sigh.
'I don't know,' he said. 'But there has never been a child like it before in the history of the Darkfolk. It will be a blend of human, Bloodborn, and-' he glanced at me with obvious distaste, 'zombie.'
'But I was human when we conceived the child,' I pointed out.
'True, but that was only a temporary condition, brought about by a powerful token of death magic given to you by Edrigu. In a sense, the spell's effect was primarily cosmetic, and thus didn't alter your fundamental nature. It's why the change could not be a permanent one for you. Your child shall belong to three realms: the living, the dead, and the in-between. It is impossible to predict what such a child will be like – and what sort of power, if any, it might wield.'
'But if the baby does possess powerful magic, you want to be the one to control it,' I said.
'Yes, and why not?' Galm said. 'Edrigu may have given you the token that made conceiving the child possible, but I will be its grandfather. I have more right to the child than anyone.'
'You seem to be forgetting about the two of us,' Devona said. Her eyes glimmered with crimson light and her canine teeth had grown more pronounced. More, I could once again feel her through our link, and I could sense her anger building.
'You are my daughter and one of the Bloodborn,' Galm said. 'Your child's magic must be made to serve your people's needs. It is your duty.'
' I'm not one of the Bloodborn,' I said, 'and my child isn't going to serve anyone. Ever.' I reached into my jacket pocket and took hold of my squirt gun. The mixture of holy water, garlic, and other chemicals inside would prove little more than an irritant to a vampire of Galm's power, but right then I felt like giving the sonofabitch a face full of the stuff. But I didn't draw the gun, though I was sorely tempted.
'I want you to go, Father,' Devona said. 'Now.'
Galm regarded her for a moment, and then inclined his head slightly. 'As you wish. But regardless of what transpires between the two of us from this point forward, I pledge that I shall never again turn my back upon you. You will always remain a member of the Bloodborn, and you shall always be welcome in the Cathedral.'
Then without saying goodbye, Galm's body burst into several dozen shadowy fragments shaped like bats. This was his travel form, and the shadow-bats darted and swirled around the room for a moment before flying toward the door and slipping through the cracks. Galm was gone.
I turned to Devona to ask her how she was doing, but before I could speak, she buried her face in her hands and began to cry. I put my arms around her and held her tight and regretted not blasting her father in the face with holy water when I'd had the chance.
'But why do we need to fill out more forms?' I asked. 'We already filled out a bunch when we checked in!'
The vampire behind the registration desk gazed at me with a blank, lifeless expression that would've done the most burnt-out office worker back on Earth proud. In fact, the resemblance was so uncanny I wondered if most drone jobs back home were staffed by vampires. It would explain a lot.
'Standard procedure, sir,' she said in monotone as she pushed a sheaf of papers on a clipboard across the desktop toward us. She wore a spotless white uniform with a stylized red FH over her left breast. She had the usual vampiric ivory complexion, and her short black hair was practically a buzz cut. With the exception of the doctors, all of the staff I'd seen at the Fever House wore their hair similarly short, and I wondered if it was a hospital regulation.
Devona sat in a wheelchair next to me, and Varney stood behind us, presumably recording the whole banal scene. Just like in hospitals back on Earth, Devona was required to ride in a wheelchair until she was outside the building, and she didn't like it one bit. She was still upset about the lessthan-pleasant reunion with her father, and I could feel her mounting frustration with having to jump one more bureaucratic hurdle before we could check out. If we didn't get out of here soon, I was afraid she might leap out of her chair, grab the registration clerk by the throat, and show her precisely what she thought of her 'standard procedure.'
'You already have our information in your system,' Devona said, nodding toward the computer terminal on the woman's desk. 'Can't you just copy it electronically?'
The woman looked at Devona as if her body had just made a socially awkward noise. 'Computers have their place, of course, but electronic files are no substitute for handwritten records.'
The vampires who live in Gothtown tend to be centuries old, and while they aren't above using technology when it suits their purpose, they tend to view it with suspicion and keep it at arm's length. Younger Bloodborn – those only a century or so old – have an easier time adapting to technology, and they usually end up living in the Sprawl where most of the high-tech in Nekropolis is found. Varvara is the only Darklord who openly embraces technology, but then as the Demon Queen, she'll embrace anything and everything – and anyone – as long as it amuses her.
Devona bared her fangs at the woman, and I quickly snatched up the clipboard, tucked it under my arm, and wheeled Devona over to a empty seat in the waiting room. I parked her next to the chair, then I handed Varney the clipboard.
'Were you filming when we checked in?' I asked him.
'Yeah.'
'Good. Then if you were paying attention, you should be able to fill these out.' I handed the clipboard to him before sitting down next to Devona. He looked at me, and I added, 'Consider it a chance to get some close-up action footage.'
He looked less than thrilled, but he wandered off to find an open seat – by some astounding coincidence I'd chosen the only available one on this side of the waiting area – and I turned to Devona.
