The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

With her left leg crooked forward Maribelle placed her hands on her hips and she pursed her lips together a moment, pleased to see his eyes were fixed on them.



“Professor, you can go rest and have… sweet dreams,” she teased, with a smile.



Chapter Five



“End comms…” Shade told the ship, tilting the brim of his Stetson away from his face, so that he could gaze out the front view-screen.



The asteroid possessed three mining fields; and while the operation was smaller than most, but it boasted a saloon.



From where he sat, with his legs up and heels resting on the console, Shade’s mouth suddenly became quite parched.



“With a working tranmat I could materialise in the bar and get my scotch…” he muttered, regretting taking the job before this one.



If he had not let a dozen Maze-Car Fans book him for the Tenth Maze-Car Asteroid Run, he would not have found himself with a bunch of ‘simple-minded degenerates’, who could not hold their drink or drugs. Then one of them had used the transmat successfully, with another watching them and then, the ‘fun’ had started…



Nine fans, all inebriated with some form of alcohol, or narcotic, piled into the mattrans, setting the controls prior to pressing ‘send’. The resultant bloody mess of human flesh; of all none people melded and still living; arrived at the main stand, leaving thousands shocked.



Needless to say, it had made the news, sports as well as the roving reports and, what was worse than the loss of business that had followed the incident had been the damage that had been done to the transmat; circuits had blown with the overload and, it had taken weeks to clear the cubicle of human residue, blown back in the explosion.



“Now I end up working for The Corporation…” He cursed.



Shade needed the transmat, as it kept him ahead of his competitors, not that he had many, out on the Fringe. But, there were a few…



So repairs had to be made and, to do that Shade needed the right parts, which could not be bought black market, such was the nature of the security surrounding the technologies involved. And that meant, that Shade had to go through channels a man such as he aborred.



“Yet, when needs must…” he muttered, looking ahead still, the small saloon becoming more desirable by the moment, “Then the Devil takes his due…”



Shade swung round, swivelling hi seat, so that he could stand and walk down the small gangway, leading through to the main corridor. He reached up to unfasten a lock and a space-suit fell out of a locker and onto him. As he sank to the floor, Shade looked up expectantly, knowing what would happen next and, it did…



The helmet rolled to where the suit had been, then seemed to look down at Shade, for a millisecond, before falling itself. It landed hard, just to the right of his head.



“Well, that’s the first good luck I’ve had in day’s…” he quipped, “Let’s just hope it stays that way… ‘coz I haven’t checked this suit out in months…”

Chapter Four



As more Brood had replaced human at the Martian production plant, there were fewer at the cafeteria tables. The Brood ate to live and, they consumed a concentrate that held all the proteins, carbohydrates, vitamins and trace minerals they needed. As for social interaction, The Brood required none. They were produced to fulfil a role.

And, that they did…



Fassbeinder looked as tired as he felt, yet felt compelled to stay awake and was on his fifth black coffee and was starting to feel the need to relieve his bladder. Then as he considered gathering his papers together Maribelle approached his table, near one of the numerous window ports.



“You look brighter,” he told her with a wan smile.



“Always helps when you can impart good news, after a shower…” She told him, with a light grin on her freshly made-up face, content for the moment that it looked like he had noticed.



“You mean…?” He began, his bladder forgotten for the moment; “He’ll do it?”



“And yes, he does know who we work for, before you ask…” Maribelle told him.



“Then why?” Fassbeinder knew how ‘corpies’ were thought of and, in a fashion it was all true. But, there were people like him who worked to survive and, if it were in a degree of comfort, then so be it…



That comfort came at a price and, that was their absolute loyalty, to The Absolute Corporation; something he did not really feel, nor did Maribelle. He hoped she would see they were made for one another. But for now, they had a problem to deal with.



“He needs part for his transmat,” Maribelle told him, pouring herself a large mug of the steaming black brew, that had percolated for many, many hours; “So I suppose you could say that vice come before virtue, when there’s something you want?”



Studying her shapely calves and the high heels she wore, Fassbeinder’s arousal reminded him that he’d needed the bathroom earlier.



Yet, he wanted Maribelle’s company, very much…



‘And sometimes need comes before desire’, the man mused, finally standing: “Maribelle, if you can tell me I can lie down awhile, I’ll believe you…” Fassbeinder admitted, to the woman he cared for, more than any other human he knew.



Loosening her hair, Maribelle stepped toward the professor, mug in hand.



Then looking him in the eyes, she set the mug down on the table next to his and she undid the top two buttons on her white lab coat, exposing the valley of creamy flesh, formerly hidden by black lacy underwear.



With her left leg crooked forward Maribelle placed her hands on her hips and she pursed her lips together a moment, pleased to see his eyes were fixed on them.



“Professor, you can go rest and have… sweet dreams,” she teased, with a smile.

Chapter Three



“You know someone out there, who can help? Really?” Fassbeinder quizzed, sounding as doubtful as he felt: “Someone ‘out there!?!’”



He gestured outward with his right arm, to the stars above the factory complex, where myriad species had fallen beneath the once mighty Terran Empire, then Federation and finally a republic; a republic that was slowly falling apart, due to several fractions in-fighting, each vying for power on a world few would be proud of, steeped as it was in over-populated, highly polluted mega-cities.



Few wanted to remain on Earth who had skills to sell off-world; yet still many did stay, through lack of options available to them, while the uber-rich resided in great monolithic spires, that looked down, to the sprawling mess below them.



Yet, Fassbeinder, Maribelle Quince and Woolf had a life away from all that, as they toiled away with the factories few humans, to produce the workforce needed, for humankinds increasing expansion into the galaxy and beyond.



“You know someone who could help sort this mess out?” Woolf scoffed.



Maribelle crossed her legs and showed thigh flesh between the buttons and stretched material of her white smock coat. She tipped her classes to the end of her nose and stared over the top of them, at the Security Chief.



“Yes, I know someone,” she assured him, “My only question is will he want to speak to me?”



“Why shouldn’t he want to talk with you?” Fassbeinder asked curiously. He liked and admired the young woman and, had been enamoured with her, for years and, he could not envisage a scenario were someone would not want to speak with her.



“We had known each other at cadet corps. He was a good shot back then, one of the best; but he was way too quiet for me, back then…” Maribelle told the two men and, enjoying the tease of the moment.



“So what makes you think he’s anywhere near where Henry is…” Wolf quizzed, suddenly feeling quite interested in what she had to say: and very interested in the curves of the brunette’s calves.



“Look to my eyes and don’t attempt to look at my thigh’s…” she scolded, “And then maybe, just maybe, I’ll answer your question.”



Maribelle had realized a tacit understanding with him and Wolf averted his gaze and turned toward the professor, as she continued speaking: “It happened a few months ago and, like I said, he’s a nice fellow, just out there alone and well, sometimes lonely people do reach out… you know?”



Woolf had not noticed her sideways glance toward Fassbeinder, but the older man had and, it had made him think, as Maribelle had intended.



“So what makes you think he’ll help us?” Wolf asked, following the older mans stare and realizing that he had no place there, other than security matters and, they were paramount to the burly man.



“He won’t help us, not with who we work for…” she explained to him, making him look very annoyed, much to her amusement.



“But,” she added with a grin, “he will help me, if I ask…”

Chapter Two



Stephen Woolf was a big man, with a short temper and very little patience with the scientists he had to work around. The complexities of their world meant nothing to the stern fellow, who believed he had much to cope with already, keeping security on the Martian factory.



At present he stood in the small glass-walled office, at the back of the process-room illustrating how the security camera’s had captured every moment of the theft.



“See,” he began to explain, yet again; “that is your culprit, the caretaker…”



He was pointing to a man that no-one had seen, since he had been redundant a week earlier, when a new batch of The Brood had proved as adept at brushing and cleaning as any unskilled human. And, irrespective of longevity of service, another employee of the corporation had been rendered unemployed.



‘The theft was down to him, of that you can be sure,” Woolf added emphatically.



“So what now?” Fassbeinder queried, looking from one to the other, brow furrowed.



“Now? Well, it would help if we knew where he was…” Woolf muttered.



“That’s doable!” Maribelle explained, taking her place at a nearby monitor. “I’ll bring up his records and see if he’s made a transaction recently… and… Oh yes!”



Both men turned to look at Maribelle, as she stood, eyes ablaze with delight.



“He got a ferry to the first jumping off point to The Outer Fringe…” she told them.



“The Fringe?” Woolf growled, “You gotta be kiddin!”



“The Absolute Corporation have no-one out that way…” the professor sighed. And, for long, long moments each were silent, until Mirabelle recalled someone reaching out to her, a few months earlier.



“I know someone who could help…” Maribelle said, thinking aloud.

Chapter One



“This is bad, bad, bad…” the man muttered. Fifty-eight, balding and wearing black horn-rim glasses, the professor every inch the archetypical scientist. He was, every inch what he seemed.



Standing in the office doorway, so as not to been seen hovering, the slim brunette with a ponytail and inquiring, dark brown eyes watched her colleague with growing apprehension.



Maribelle was wearing little beneath the white coveralls and was resisting the urge to scratch, with difficulty.



She had noted Fasbeinder frowning as she had approached the small well-lit office, at the end of the ‘factory’ floor. Fasbeinder had his elbows on the desktop, his fingers interlaced, his chin resting on his palms.



Then she had heard him cursing and had taken her place in the doorway, as he continued to watch the scientist look at the computer monitor, frowning.



And, Maribelle looked at the fellow in the white coat at the desk, feeling quite apprehensive.



‘If something could worry the normally implacable professor, then maybe it should worry me,’ she reasoned.



At that moment, his blue-green eyes were opened wide, as he stared at the figures before him onscreen: “It can’t be, it can’t be…” he mumbled, real concern evident in his voice.



“What is it?” Maribelle asked quietly, causing the older man to look up with surprise on his face.



“I did not see you there…” he told her.



“You were busy, so I kept quiet. What’s the matter professor?” She quizzed.



His eyes returned to the screen, as he spoke, “The batch levels are down, not by much. But, the levels are down… And, I think that there is a reason for what I see…”



“Go on?” She prompted.



“It’s as I said, it seems that batches of several different Brood are down,” Fassbeinder suddenly paused a moment, before adding, “It’s as though quantities of chemicals have been taken, that can be used to…” His words drifted away, as he began to press at keys on the console before him.



Fasbeinder had already double-checked his figures. What he was doing now was unnecessary; yet he was still dreading the result as much as he had, the first time that he had reached it.



“Professor! What is it?” She asked, voice rising, to match how she felt.



Fasbeinder’s face looked harrowed as he looked to her and answered, “If the figures are right, then there’s only one thing that this person wanted to do, produce A Brood Super Soldier…” His words hung in the air, allowing them both to consider the implications of what he had just said.



“But who would do that?” Maribelle asked, caressing the professors left shoulder and upper back with her right hand.



“I don’t know,” he told her, his voice sounding very tired.



“Well, I could check the camera’s and, maybe you could think of anyone who might want to create something like that… alright?”



Fassbeinder whirled round in his chair and, gripping Maribelle’s wrists in a tight grip, he exclaimed, “Don’t you think I’ve been doing just that!?!”



“You’re hurting…” She told him, looking down to where he held her.



“I... I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” He told her, letting go immediately, tears in his eyes, causing Maribelle to feel sympathy for her colleague.



“It’s alright,” she told him softly, again rubbing his back, “the amount of time we’ve spent on this, you must feel angry?”



“Yes,” Fassbeinder muttered sullenly; “I suppose ‘angry’ is a good word.”

Shade – Year Two





Introduction:





Michelle and Fassbeinder had worked on batch control since day one of the project.



Initially production had been slow and, it had not helped that public perception of The Brood had been as negative as it had been.



Few protesters could see the benefit in a workforce genetically tailored to meet the requirements of their specific fields. After all, in an instant, many millions were provided with a hundred per cent leisure time, while the corporations had the ideal workforce, both at home and off-world.



Civil unrest had followed. And, an elite unit of the Corporate Blackguard wearing exo-skeleton had quickly put down the rioting, with violence unparalleled since the last of the Corporate Wars.



The streets had been afire for weeks and as the Blackguard swept through them, their numbers had slowly dwindled, as the herd of protestors took them down, literally.



Yet, after the dust had settled and the death toll counted, there was still an army of civilians seeking work and, prepared to fight for it.



To take further action might mean levelling the city, which was not an option and, an accord had been struck and, quiet had reigned throughout the streets once again.



The deal had been a simple one: there would be employment for those who wanted it, on Earth, while the corporations would have their ideal workforce, designed to suit every occupation needed. That had been the accord met and, it had worked for many decades, providing work for the scientists based on Mars, who produced The Brood.



Now, two of them were working, whilst the few human staff on the base slept.

Epilogue:



Shade wanted to relax and told his companion such. So they left what was before them, to seek something else, instead.



“You do realize that there’s probably little left in that sector of the system now?” Kaira asked Shade, as she straddled his chest, razor in hand.



He looked up from his bunk and mused on that.



“I know,” he muttered, “but your Father’s head and body can now be re-united, no contracts were made, or broken and, what’s better? No muse.”



“You really dislike that stuff, don’t you,” Kaira enquired, drawing the blade downward, removing suds from his face and wiping them onto a towel.



The ship was on automatic. The bottle was now empty and Kaira no longer wore his shirt, as Shade had lain back on his bed, sans coat.



Finally she finished her shave, much to Shade’s dismay, he had liked watching her breasts sway, as the blade swept his face clear of stubble.



“The chips had potential and, it was abused and people got rich and, my Captain got dead… yes, I don’t like that stuff,” Shade muttered, with whiskey-breath and, a desire to kill, or maim, every corpie to exist.



Kaira stroked his now smooth face and smiled a gently, disarming, very distracting smile, “So shall I finish the shave off, like I did the other day?”



Shade looked down, ‘It looked like she had.’ And, mentally kicking himself, he grinned sheepishly, before replying, “Yes, please…”













































































http://kendrixuk.blogspot.co.uk

Chapter Eight



“Okay Kaira,” Shade called, “report to me what you see, as the ships moves in, alright?”



Drawing her feet down from the console, she swivelled her chair round, placed her elbows down and rested her chin on her palms, to peer out: “Uh huh… that all?”



“Yes,” he replied, “just keep your eyes well peeled.”

“Why not use the controls?” She asked.



“Well do you understand them?” He responded, working on some very specific settings.



“No…” she answered dully.



“Well then… you see what I mean?” Shade pointed out, satisfied he was ready.



“But you could use the ships computers, to scan the perimeters… couldn’t you?” Kaira quizzed, quite reasonably, she thought.



There was silence…



Ahead two ships began to converge on the suit, and a red light began to flash on the console, as a proximity alert.



Kaira began to panic.



“Shade!” She swivelled her chair round, no longer relaxed, now alert and seeking some form of reassurance: “Shade!” She called out again.



Kaira turned back to the viewscreen, watching as the ships neared further still, filled with an awful fascination, as lighting at the sides of each craft suggested that their weapons were arming.



Suddenly she put her hands to her face, as both ships fired dual weapons, to converge on the point were the suit had been…



Once again, Kaira turned toward where Shade had been, until his momentary disappearance, tears streaming down her face.



“I thought you were going to help…” She had been going to say, until she saw Shade standing in the cabin doorway, a spacesuit and it’s contents in his arms.



Putting her right hand to her open mouth, Kaira stared wide-eyed, in shocked surprise.



Shade rarely smiled: yet, this occasion was special, to him.



“You called my name?” ‘Mattrans are useful,’ he mused, noting Kaira’s expression.



And, the normally taciturn spacer tilted the brim of his Stetson back a little, to show his haggard face and, a broad grin.



“You… You… You…” She spluttered, behind her hand.



Then, as she continued to stare, Kaira missed what Shade saw.



Where the four beams of destructive energy met they formed into a blue and white ball, that rapidly expanded outward.



“Turn around Kaira,” Shade suggested, setting his cargo at his feet.



She did as he recommended and again, her mouth opened wide, then shut and opened again. Before them, the ball blew apart and, a sheet of white split across the stars, tearing both ships in apart.



“Ah, recall the button I spoke of?” Shade asked, hurriedly.



There was a pause, a small one but enough to still Shade’s heart for all of a second: he thought, as in slow motion, he watched the scene before him unfold. And…



Before them white swept through black and stars were extinguished.



“Remember my instructions!?!” He called, as Kaira stared in fascination.



And then, as if she suddenly heard his words, Kaira acted: and she did all that he had spoken of --- she literally hit ‘the red button there,’ with the palm of her right hand, the one next to the slide and, the starfreighter’s stellar-drive was engaged…



Abruptly time and space were one; as one acted as an access point for the other and, quickly, very quickly, Shade’s ship was journeying safely once more, in clear space.

Chapter Seven



Moments, mere moments, after the pair had sat before the console, a small blip on a nearby screen indicated something to Shade that caused him to frown…



“There’s an anomaly at the co-ordinates you gave me…” He noted, to Kaira.



“What’s an anomaly?” She responded.



“Well,” he began, “in this case, it’s smaller than a ship and, seems to be human in shape… hang on, I’ll zoom in some more…”



Shade played with some dials, aware his every movement was under scrutiny.

“Whoa!” He exclaimed suddenly, causing his companion to worry even more than she had been, seconds prior.



“What does ‘Whoa!’ mean?” She asked, in a panicky voice.



“It means that there’s a space-suit floating at the co-ordinates, one that seems all legs, arms and body, but no head f’t helmet…” he explained, then turned his seat, to face Kaira, placing his hands on her knees.



“It also meant that there’s two cruiser-class ships in the vicinity, each with guns upon the suit it seems. So… if we go in, it’s boom-time for this old ship of mine…” Shade finished peaking and squeezed a little.



He was teasing, yet Kaira was not to know and, she was distraught.



“Whoa! C’mon smile…” Shade encouraged, standing and moving to the back of the cabin slowly: “It will be alright, y’know?”



Shade had a plan, but it was risky, as were many of his plans: but they usually worked. ‘And, those odds were enough,’ Shade mused walking to a wall, and sliding a panel aside, to reveal a small compartment, big enough for two to stand, if they had needed to. They would need to, if his plan worked.



“Okay,” Shade began as he took his seat once more, “now here’s the idea… and, it starts with you drying your tears…” he instructed.



As Kaira sniffed away at her tears, he added; “The ship’ll move in real close and, I’ll kinda reach out as we do. And then, when I shout ‘now’, you hit that button there, the red one with the slide there and, we go into stellar-drive…”



Shade tried a grin, it didn’t work too well, but Kaira got the idea: “Alright…?”



“Yes, I suppose…” She told him, looking up with a light smile and twinkling eyes.

Kaira finally had something to hold onto and, she thanked him, for that.



“Well, you suppose that and, I’ll suppose this… Ship?” Shade pronounced.



“Yes,” the ship responded. It was a feature that Shade rarely used. The reason for not using the ships internal computer was simple, it used his Captain’s first wife as the model for it’s voice and, Shade had not had the heart to change that.



“Ship, take me in to the suit as close as you can slowly…” he ordered, looking out the front viewscreen,, as what he’d seen earlier came nearer



“Affirmative, that will be done…” he was told, simply.



“Well, this should be interesting…” Shade muttered, as he stood once again, to make his way to where he’d been working moments earlier.