Blood Moon
To my father, Barrie Ffrench
,
management consultant
,
but not werewolf
CITY
M
ICHAEL
An ambitious City administrator, former lover of Danielle, once a member of the Forest but now restored to Truenorm status with a transplant from his norm clone.
M
ELANIE
(M
EL
)
One of the three remaining Forest, now brain-wiped and mind-dead, formerly engaged to Tom (now deceased).
FAITH HOPE AND CHARITY
D
ANIELLE
Once a City Virtual engineer and member of the Forest; now Proclaimed and outcast from the City.
N
EIL
Apple grower and apple breeder, Danielle’s lover.
T
HEO
Administrator/accountant, secret vampire,* married to Elaine; Neil’s foster father.
E
LAINE
Meditech, married to Theo; Neil’s foster mother.
S
AMANTHA
, J
OE
and many others,
including C
ENTAURS
and W
ATER
S
PRITES
who are only loosely associated with the community.
BLACK STUMP
O
PHELIA
Danielle’s friend.
G
LOUCESTER
Formerly married to Perdita, now deceased.*
R
OMEO
Formerly called Caliban, married to Juliet.
J
ULIET
Formerly called Julius, married to Romeo.
H
IPPOLYTA
Community technician.
Y
ORICK
Children:
P
ORTIA
, C
ORIOLANUS
, V
IOLA
, H
ORATIO
, M
ALVOLIO
.
NEARER TO HEAVEN
B
ROTHER
P
ERRY
(unregrettably deceased)
S
ISTER
K
AREN
S
ISTER
T
RACEY
B
ROTHER
C
YDORE
O
THER
I
NITIATES
THE ANDERSONS
M
R
A
NDY
A
NDERSON
(deceased)
M
RS
F
LORRIE
A
NDERSON
A
LAN
A
NDERSON
, their son.
S
ONIA
, their daughter.
OLDEST GENERATION
G
REAT
A
UNT
L
EXIE
G
REAT
U
NCLE
R
EX
Rusty, Eleanor, Dusty and Emerald’s P
ARENTS
(both deceased).
MIDDLE GENERATION
E
LEANOR
Female head of clan, mated to Rusty and also his sister.
R
USTY
Male head of clan, mated to Eleanor and also her brother.
U
NCLE
D
USTY
Eleanor, Rusty and Emerald’s brother.
A
UNT
E
MERALD
Eleanor, Rusty and Dusty’s sister.
YOUNGEST GENERATION
The younger litter (the ‘cubs’)
C
ONNIE
, B
ONNIE
and J
OHNNIE
The older litter (teenagers)
L
EN
, J
ENNIE
and B
EN
GREEN TREES
D
R
M
EREDITH
: Outlands surgeon and genetic engineer, 146 years old.
*
It was a night for hunting. The moon was full. The leaves shone silver above the watcher in the shadows.
Some people think that night is simply darkness. But those who love the night know there are colours in the darkness too—subtle colours, as though the sun has leached out the richness from the colours of the day.
The watcher sniffed. Night brings richer smells as well—chook dung from what had once been a pillared temple but was now a hen yard; the smell of sausages from indoors. The breeze brought jasmine and the faint tang of the sea.
Water gushed in the bathroom. They were getting ready for bed.
The watcher moved cautiously into the moonlight, across the grass and up onto the doorstep. A scratch on the door, once, twice, just loud enough for someone to investigate.
In the house the tap was turned off. ‘Someone at the door.’ The man sounded annoyed.
‘Are you sure it wasn’t possums again?’ This was a woman’s voice, strangely similar to the man’s.
‘No,’ said the man impatiently. ‘It was the door.’
Footsteps down some stairs, the flap of slippers across a kitchen floor. The door opened. A light glared out.
‘Anybody there?’ The man stood there blinking, thin as a barbed-wire fence, his grey hair bleached white by the light. ‘Is anybody there?’ he repeated.
One blow on the back of the neck. His head struck the side of the door. It should have stunned him, but it didn’t. The man looked up; he cried out, once, twice.
No time to strike another blow. Lunge down onto the throat instead, bare and exposed, its wrinkled folds like chicken flesh.
The third shriek gurgled in his throat.
The perfume of the jasmine had vanished now. The scent of blood replaced it—rich, sweet, slightly metallic. Once you have smelt it you remember it. Nothing smells quite like the scent of blood.
Another slash, tearing at the flesh. The man was dead now surely, but just to make sure…
From somewhere inside a different woman called out. ‘Patriarch? Are you all right? What is it, Patriarch?’
Footsteps hurried across the kitchen floor. And then she screamed.
‘
L
ook,’ I said, ‘the moon’s turned red!
‘Mmmmmm?’
I prodded his stomach. It was an interesting stomach, nicely furred with blond hairs around the navel. ‘I said the moon is red!’
Neil hauled himself up and peered out of the window. ‘It isn’t supposed to go red,’ he complained. ‘It’s supposed to disappear in an eclipse. Hey, the Centaurs are under the trees!’
I scrambled up beside him. ‘What are they doing?’
Neil grinned. ‘None of your business. I’ll get an inferiority complex.’
‘What? Oh, I see.’
I watched the two Centaurs in the thin red light. It was definitely red, and the Centaurs were definitely…
‘He’s big, isn’t he?’ I said.
‘Makes me feel all inadequate,’ said Neil.
‘At least you last more than seven seconds.’
I watched the male pull out. The female twitched her tail, the male scratched his armpit. He stared at the red moon for a moment, then they trotted off into the shadows.
Neil lay down again. I stayed looking at the moon. ‘They used to call it a blood moon in the old days. It was supposed to be the sign of war or murder—bloodshed, anyway.’
‘Mmmm?’ Neil kicked the sheet further down the bed. Even a sheet was too hot tonight. I looked interestedly at
his nipples. Six blond hairs around one, twenty-four—I’d counted them the week before—around the other.
Neil wrestled the pillow into a more comfortable spot under his head. ‘Bloodshed was probably a safe enough bet in those days. Bandits in the forest, and after breakfast you’d murder the king.’
I took one last look at the red-shadowed moon and slid down next to him. ‘I suppose. Humans don’t have a very nice history do they?’
‘Good things happened too,’ said Neil absently.
‘Yes…but they’re not recorded are they? I mean no one ever wrote down “on the second moon after the big rain Snaggletooth Furry daughter domesticated wheat”. Just that old King So and So murdered another few dozen enemies.’
No answer from Neil. I slid down next to him in the bed. The sheets felt cool against the heat of my body. ‘What time is the floater coming to pick you up?’
‘Six. But you don’t have to get up. I’ll try to slip out quietly.’
‘Of course I’ll get up.’ I almost added that I had nothing else to do, but that wasn’t true, I told myself firmly. I had lots to do. While Neil was away, I had to plant the primula seedlings in the garden, finish the final details on the plans for the beach…
‘The work should have well and truly started on the beach by the time you get back,’ I said slowly. ‘The contractor said she’d have a team free by the end of the week.’
‘Mmm? Good.’
‘They will like it, won’t they? The kids at the Utopia?’
Neil half opened an eye. ‘Of course they’ll like it. Surf and sand and seagulls…’
‘The seagulls are going to be difficult. People could just walk through hologram seagulls. They’ll have to be Virtual…’ I hesitated. It had been a year since the City Proclaimed me, and cast me out. They had removed my Link too. Every other Truenorm in the world was chipped in childhood, could Link into any computer network, receive or see seagulls in Virtual or any other image the network sent…
We had been The Forest—able to process data in microseconds, Link so totally with any computer network that we could think together too. Now only three of us were left: Melanie, brain dead in her nursing home; Michael, who had become a norm and continued his career as one of the City’s rising administrators; and me. Once I had created Virtuals that stunned the City. Now I was an exile, planning a beach for a mob of Outland kids.
‘You’ll manage it,’ said Neil easily, sliding his hand across the pillows towards me.
I shrugged. Neil had no idea of the complexities of what I was attempting, or the expense. But the royalties from my old designs had made me wealthy, which was a good thing, as it looked like my only real occupation from now on would be spending it.
‘The kids will be thrilled,’ said Neil reassuringly.
‘I hope so,’ I said. And of course they would, I thought. Until the novelty wore off. After all, they’d happily survived till now with just the swimming holes in the creek and the irrigation dam above the orchards. Perhaps in a few months time no one would even bother with my carefully engineered waves…
Neil watched me across the pillow. ‘I don’t have to go,’ he said softly.
‘Of course you have to go. The conference will be fascinating. All those lovely apple tree genetics…’
‘I could do the conference in Virtual.’ He shrugged. ‘They’re sure to have a holo Link at least.’
‘I bet the only Link they have is in the conference room itself. You’d miss out on all the talk afterwards. That’s always the most interesting bit anyway.’
‘You mean more interesting than my keynote speech?’
I kicked him lightly on the ankle. It was a nice ankle too, interestingly knobbly. His big-toe nails looked like superior tusks; Neil never got round to cutting them till they felt uncomfortable in his boots. ‘You know what I mean.’
I was proud of him, my gentle apple farmer, though I knew as little about apple tree genetics and pest resistance as he did about Virtual engineering. We’d had a good life together these last few months.
‘I don’t want you to be lonely,’ said Neil, even more softly.
‘I won’t be lonely.’ My voice sounded a little too resolute. ‘I’ve got lots to do. Besides, I can just wander over the hill if I feel lonely.’
‘You promise you’ll go down there sometimes?’
I looked at him exasperated. ‘Neil, I know I kept to myself when I first came here. But it’s different now. Yes, I promise I will go down to Faith Hope and Charity while you are away. I promise I will have dinner with Theo and Elaine at least one night in the next two weeks. Probably more as I’ll have to eat my own cooking otherwise. I even promise to go to Sunday music. I don’t promise I won’t go to sleep, but…’
Neil grinned. ‘You don’t have to go that far.’ He pulled me over to him. ‘I will miss you, you know.’
‘I’ll miss you. But it’s only for two weeks.’
‘I wish…’ He stopped.
No, Neil wouldn’t say what he wished. He wished I could come with him. But as a Proclaimed modification I was forbidden to enter the City without a special—and very temporary—permit.
He wished we could at least communicate, call each other from time to time. But even Terminals nowadays operated on mind pulses, and my brain was shielded from sending or receiving any pulse at all. If I wanted to make even a simple vid call, I needed someone to make the Link for me.
At least now I had a manual computer, otherwise the beach project would have been impossible. And one day soon—so the City technician I’d hired informed me—I’d have a manual Terminal too. Then at least I’d be able to do the old-time equivalent of phoning my friends.
‘I’ll get Theo to patch us through whenever I’m over at the ‘topia,’ I promised. ‘It’s only for two weeks…’ I glanced up and out the window. ‘Look, about a third of the moon’s gone already. It’s faded too. I wonder what a pink moon means?’
‘Probably means there’s a breast alert. Keep a watch out for pink flesh.’ Neil sounded totally uninterested in the colour of the moon. He pulled me closer. That was what I liked about Neil. He concentrated fully on what he was doing. Neil had a greater capacity for enjoyment than anyone I’d known.
I looked down. ‘You’re not all that much smaller,’ I said comfortingly. ‘Not as colourful though. The Centaur’s had pink and grey splodges.’
‘I’ll get a dye job,’ promised Neil.
Later, much later, I opened my eyes briefly. The moon rode full and round and silent over the trees. The eclipse was over. The blood moon had gone.
Neil snored softly beside me as I fell asleep.