Nosferatu a5-8

  Nosferatu

  ( Area 51 - 8 )

  Robert Doherty

  THE SHADOWS OF HISTORY ARE THEIR HOME.

  THE BLOOD OF HUMANS IS THEIR SUSTENANCE.

  NOW THE FUTURE BELONGS TO THEM….

  It began at the dawn of history, when a darkness rose from deep within an Egyptian tomb. For thousands of years — long before earth was plunged into an intergalactic battle for its survival — four deathless creatures sowed seeds of destruction and chaos. Surviving on the spilled blood of warriors and innocents from ancient Greece to the ashes of Nazi Germany, the creatures have played a role in conflicts great and small. Now, bound by their common ancestry, separated by their own devious ambitions, and armed with mankind's own modern tools of destruction, the deathless ones know that their time has come — and they have been called together by one brilliant leader. His name is Nosferatu. His vision is to become a god on earth. His ultimate weapon will be a Holy Grail, a force that no mortal man can defeat… but his deadliest enemy may be one of his own….

  Robert Doherty

  Nosferatu

  THE PRESENT

  PROLOGUE

  The Skeleton Coast, West Africa

  The room was dimly lit by a single low-wattage bulb set beneath the tattered shade of an old lamp sitting in the center of the large, oaken table that dominated the room. The table was oval, stretching ten feet in length and five in width, and its top was marked and scarred by centuries of use. Four large wing armchairs were spaced evenly around the table. They were cushioned and covered in well-worn black leather. The curved outer wall was smoothly cut sandstone, breached only by a single door made of thick planks of weathered wood, bound with iron spikes to a diagonal crossbeam.

  Three figures occupied chairs, leaving one empty. There were no papers in front of them, no laptops, hand-helds, or any other electronic device in the room other than the single light and a large flat-screen display set in front of the empty chair, facing the other three. The faces of the three were hidden in the shadows of their high-backed chairs and the only way for each to determine who was speaking was from accent and direction.

  “Gentlemen, I welcome you to the Haven.” The voice was low yet powerful, easily carrying from the chair opposite the door across the polished oak tabletop from the others. The accent was indeterminate, an amalgamation of numerous languages warped over the ages into speaking English.

  The voice continued. “We have waited a long time, a very long time, for this day. The Airlia have been defeated by the humans. Both sides. The two alien leaders, Aspasia and Artad, are dead. Quite remarkable and more fortuitous than I had ever hoped. They who made us and hate us are gone. It is our time now.”

  The man leaned forward, revealing a narrow face, white hair, and dark eyes with the slightest hint of red in them. When the dim light struck them a certain way the pupils appeared to be slightly elongated. Despite the white hair, his skin was smooth and alabaster, as if it had never seen the light of day or the grim hand of time. He wore a flowing robe of soft gray cloth.

  His voice deepened as he spoke. “I was made Nosferatu in the First Age of Egypt, before the dawn of history as recorded by the humans, the child of Horus the Airlia and a human High Consort. I have lived for over ten millennia waiting for the time when those who made us would be defeated and we would not have to live in fear of them.” He looked around the table. “This is the first time the three of us have been together in the same place at the same time. I thank you for answering my summons. With the Airlia gone we are the eldest and most powerful species on the planet.”

  Nosferatu paused, the words sinking into the sandstone, replaced by utter silence. Nosferatu indicated that the man to the screen’s right should speak next.

  The voice spoke English like a song, the Chinese background unmistakable. “I am Tian Dao Lin.” He leaned forward, revealing Oriental features and a bald, liver-spotted scalp. He wore a black silk robe with a single red dragon embroidered on each loose sleeve. “I was made underneath the great mountain tomb Qian-Ling by Artad himself in consort with a sacrificial girl well before even the dynasty of Shi Huangdi, the first true Emperor of the Middle Kingdom.” He turned toward Nosferatu. “We met many, many years ago, a most fascinating story that I will tell you if you wish”—he glanced at the third occupant of the room— “but at another time and place as we are here for business.” Tian Dao Lin leaned back in his seat.

  The third person in the room waited a few seconds before speaking. Then he stood, a formidable figure, over six and a half feet in height and as erect as a soldier on parade. His skin was pale, his face perfectly smooth and unlined except for a single scar down the left side from the edge of the eye to the edge of his mouth. He had a prominent nose, giving him the appearance of a hunting hawk. His eyes were slanted, though not as much as Tian Dao Lin’s, and his long red hair flowed over his shoulders. He was dressed in black pants and shirt made of some soft material that absorbed what little light there was in the room.

  “I too was made by Artad in consort with a human girl, but long after you, Tian Dao Lin. The name I choose others to know me as now is Adrik. I have — as have both of you — been called by many other names over the years. I am here to find out this business that the Eldest, Nosferatu, proposes.”

  Adrik retook his seat.

  Nosferatu placed his fingers lightly on the edge of the table as if keeping himself balanced. “As you both know, we have a stronger genetic link with the humans than with the Airlia. We look like them and can even pass as human. It is our blood — the Airlia blood that runs through our veins — that makes us different from humans and has kept us alive through the ages.”

  Nosferatu continued. “The Airlia are gone. The Ones Who Wait — who were in a way brethren to us but under the thrall of Artad and manufactured, not bred — are also gone as far as can be determined. Aspasia’s Shadow, who meddled many times with us, is dead and his guides ineffective since the humans took over and destroyed the Master Guardian, effectively shutting down all the subordinate Guardian computers upon which the Guides relied.

  “It is a new age.”

  Nosferatu paused and looked around the table, waiting. He knew there were different agendas here and he wanted to know what they were before he got to his.

  Tian Dao Lin was the first to speak. “A new age, but the humans believe it is their age now. I do not think they will treat us any better than the Airlia or their minions did. We may look like them but we are most definitely not the same. And what we have had to do over the many years to remain alive — while there are small cults that worship the vampire legend, the majority of humans fear and despise even our myth. I think their reaction to the reality if it is revealed will be much more severe and unforgiving.”

  “That is why I changed my manner of feeding many years ago,” Nosferatu noted.

  “I do not kill anymore to get my sustenance.”

  Adrik dissented. “We are superior to humans. It is the natural order that we feed from them. Your distinction means nothing.”

  It meant something to the victim, Nosferatu thought, but he didn’t give voice to the words.

  “We have all done well over the years,” Tian Dao Lin continued, ignoring the Russian. “Each of us controls vast wealth and power from the shadows. Why should we do anything differently?”

  “Because the world is a different place now,” Nosferatu said. “Even the two of you acknowledge that by coming to this meeting, something we have never done before. There are new opportunities now. And new dangers.”

  “Why did Vampyr not come here then?” Adrik demanded. “Did you not invite him?”

  “I invited him,” Nosferatu replied.

  “Then why is he not here?” Adrik asked
once more.

  “You seem quite concerned about Vampyr,” Nosferatu said. “Do you fear him?” Adrik leapt to his feet. “I fear no one.”

  “Please sit.” Nosferatu glanced at the Chinese, who was watching Adrik closely. “I meant you no disrespect. I am the Eldest and I fear Vampyr. He is powerful and dangerous.”

  “You said new opportunities,” Tian Dao Lin said. “Do you mean the Grail and immortality?”

  “It would be most fortuitous to get the Grail,” Nosferatu said. “However, my sources tell me it was destroyed when the mothership was crashed into the array on Mars by Dr. Duncan. Whom I met many years ago under a different name.”

  “Donnchadh.” Adrik spit the name out like a curse. “Lisa Duncan, most recently. Among the many aliases she used in her reincarnations over the years. A troublesome human if ever there was one.”

  “She freed me from the Airlia long ago,” Nosferatu noted.

  “For her own reasons, I am sure,” Adrik said.

  “But are you certain the Grail was destroyed?” Tian Dao Lin pressed, cutting off Adrik. “My sources believe the same thing, but I have heard that those from Area 51 brought some artifacts back from Mars on board Donnchadh’s spaceship.”

  “It is slightly possible,” Nosferatu granted, “that they brought the Grail back, but I very much doubt it.”

  Tian Dao Lin lapsed into silence, waiting.

  Adrik spoke up. “I agree with Nosferatu, the Eldest, on one key point. I do not think we will ever be accepted by the humans. Therefore, I propose we do not ask to be accepted by the humans.” He crossed his arms across his chest. “I propose we rule them.”

  There were several moments of silence following Adrik’s proposal. Finally, Nosferatu voiced the objection he knew Tian Dao Lin was thinking. “Ruling would force us into the open. Even with the great power and influence we have amassed over the years, we would still be vulnerable. We have all seen great and powerful rulers over the ages who were destroyed. We have just witnessed the humans defeat the Airlia, something I would not have thought possible. We should not underestimate them. And there have been attempts by Undead, particularly Vampyr, and you”—he stared at Adrik—“to rule before and all have failed.”

  “It depends on what you mean by failure,” Adrik argued. “I had magnificent successes in many places. Names I have used are in the human history books as great leaders.”

  “But you could never maintain your kingdoms; nor could Vampyr,” Nosferatu noted.

  “So you say we stay in the shadows still?” Adrik demanded. “Let our fortunes and fates go with the flow of mankind? At least when the Airlia ruled through their minions we had some degree of assurance that there would be a world left for us to live in. Humans, on their own”—he shook his head—“they will destroy themselves, and us with them. We are wiser, more experienced. It would be in their interest for us to dictate their course.”

  “And when we feed?” Tian Dao Lin quietly asked. “If we could have partaken of the Grail and become immortal without the need to drink blood, then I would say perhaps we could rule. But without that, do you think the humans would be so obliging as to give us bodies to feed on?”

  Adrik shrugged. “They could give us their worst criminals — the humans kill thousands themselves in punishment. Your own China chops off how many heads each year. And for those who feel the kill is not necessary”—he glanced disdainfully toward Nosferatu—“there is always a way to get blood without killing.”

  “We are only a handful,” Tian Dao Lin said. “Even with our money and influence…” He trailed off into silence.

  “Why have you brought us here then?” Adrik demanded of Nosferatu. “Surely you had a reason.”

  Nosferatu nodded. “I had two reasons. I called you here to discuss what we should do first before we can accomplish anything else, including trying to rule the humans.”

  Nosferatu got to his feet and walked over to an ancient armoire, opening its wooden doors to reveal a small stainless-steel door. He slid it up and removed three flasks also made of unmarked steel resting in specially made cradles that kept the contents warm. He carried them back to the table, placing one in front of each man before taking his seat with the third. He unscrewed the lid and lifted it to his lips, tilting the flask and drinking deeply for several seconds before putting it back on the table. There was a faint trace of red on his lips, which he dabbed away with a silk handkerchief. When he was done his face was flushed, his eyes glittering with increased power.

  He indicated the other flasks. “It’s tested: clean, pure, relatively fresh, and kept at body temperature. Imbibe, my friends. There is much I have to talk to you about.”

  The other two drank and Nosferatu waited until they were done. Then he tapped the flask. “This is our sustenance and it is our greatest weakness. We are half-breeds. We have some Airlia blood, but not enough to sustain us without constant nourishment of human blood for it. We drink human blood because we have to in order to stay alive.”

  “You tell us what we have all known since the beginning,” Adrik grumbled. “You knew it from the beginning?” Nosferatu challenged him. “I was entombed for much longer than you by the Airlia Gods themselves, and knew practically nothing. I’ve known about the Grail and the promise of immortality from the beginning, but I didn’t know exactly how it gave eternal life. It is only because the science of the humans has advanced so far that we have an idea of how we have managed to live so long.”

  He placed one finger against the engorged vein on his wrist. “We have a virus in our blood. An Airlia virus. It helps our cells regenerate when they should die. However, we’re half-breeds. So we don’t have enough of the virus for it to be self-sustaining. Thus, we must”—he reached forward and plinked a fingernail against the steel flask—“drink human blood to feed and sustain the Airlia virus. The Grail — if we had it — would purify our blood, injecting the Airlia virus, making the virus dominant and self-sustaining just as it is — or was — in the Airlia themselves. We would no longer need to drink human blood for sustenance.”

  Nosferatu waited. As he expected, Tian Dao Lin, with his obsession for the Grail, was the first to grasp the significance of this. “If we had more of the virus…”

  Nosferatu nodded. “If we could somehow — without the lost Grail — cross the threshold to where the virus is self-sustaining, we would be, in effect, immortal. We would not need to drink human blood anymore and we would have the benefits of the Airlia virus’s ability to replicate, which means even if killed, we would come back to life as it quickly regenerated us.”

  “But there are no more Airlia,” Tian Dao Lin said. “You started this meeting saying that. So there is no more virus except what we already have in our veins.”

  Nosferatu shook his head. “The Airlia are gone, but there are sources of Airlia virus we can recover.”

  “‘We’?” Adrik repeated. “Why do you need us?”

  A good question, Nosferatu thought. One he knew that Tian Dao Lin was thinking but had not voiced. “Because we would not be the only ones trying to get this blood.”

  “Vampyr.” Tian Dao Lin said it as a statement, not a question.

  Nosferatu pressed a button under the tabletop and the screen came alive with an image. The man pictured was similar in appearance to Nosferatu, but his hair was dyed jet-black and he wore a pair of sleek sunglasses that hid his eyes. He wore an expensive suit of black, with a black shirt and tie completing the image. He was standing on the wide stairs of some building, perhaps a symphony hall, looking out over the night crowd.

  “I have known him a long time,” Nosferatu said, staring at the screen. “He was made Vampyr, also in the First Age of Egypt, the son of the Airlia Amun and a High Consort, along with his twin sister Lilith. She died most horribly at the hands of the Airlia while Vampyr and I watched. He swore revenge then against both Airlia and humans, who so blindly followed them and helped kill her.”

  “He is very powerful,” Tian Da
o Lin said. Nosferatu nodded. “He too has gone by many names over the years and has wielded much power from the shadows. We have met several times, even as allies long ago. But now that the Airlia are gone, I fear what he will do next.”

  “You fear or you know?” Tian Dao Lin asked.

  “I have had some reports,” Nosferatu acknowledged vaguely. He stared at the image on the screen. “I have known Vampyr for millennia, from the first day he swore vengeance, and his rage has not abated over the years, but rather grown. He has done many terrible things through the ages and”—Nosferatu paused, then reluctantly continued—“now that the constraint of the Airlia and their minions is gone the only real threat he has is in this room.”

  “So that is why you brought us here,” Tian Dao Lin said. “You need allies against Vampyr.”

  “Yes,” Nosferatu said, “but also remember that we are sources of the Airlia virus also, and I have no doubt Vampyr has plans to gather our blood also.” “He would kill his own?” Adrik asked.

  “Vampyr does what he wills, whenever he wants,” Nosferatu said. “If he decides he wants our blood, he will let nothing stand in his way.”

  “But you would not take his blood,” Tian Dao Lin noted. “So what other sources of Airlia blood are there?”

  Nosferatu leaned back in his chair. He glanced at Adrik. “As you are well aware, the SS screened vast amounts of blood in their concentration camps, searching for any that might be special, although they didn’t know exactly what was special about it. The SS was corrupted by the Mission and Aspasia’s Shadow, who were seeking traces of the Airlia blood as he finally knew why it was important. He used a blood ceremony for initiation into the SS. During that ceremony, top members of the SS received minute portions of the virus, most likely that which Aspasia’s Shadow recovered from the Ones Who Wait, whom he killed.

  “That is why Dr. Von Seeckt, who eventually ended up on the American Majestic-12 committee, managed to live so long and survive his illness as long as he did. As did other Nazis who escaped after the war.”