Cover photographs & interior layout by Hugues Leblanc
Cover photographs & interior layout by Hugues Leblanc
by NANCY KILPATRICK
BASKERVILLE BOOKS
September 2000 - ISBN# 0-9686776-0-6
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"No, no, Prissy, she's not freeze-dried!" "Well, Richard, you'll have to explain it all to me again. I'm not particularly scientific, you know." Julien stood at the back of the room in the funeral home listening to the last three mourners who had come to say farewell to Jeanette. He believed in funerals. It was the only way to convince mortals of the reality of death. Richard sighed. "It's called cryonic suspension, or some bloody term, and all they do is freeze her and then try to revive her later, when they've found a cure." "It's well below absolute zero, luvy. Minus 196 degrees Celsius, to be exact," offered the man named Alvin, a slightly younger, slimmer version of Richard. "Well, I think it's appalling," the woman said. She had the tall and square-shouldered stature plus the accent of the British upper class. She picked a piece of lint off her inky Chanel suit. "It's a mystery why Jeanette did this. She never mentioned these bizarre plans to me, and I AM her best friend, after all. Or, I should say, WAS." She dabbed at her eyes with a lacy handkerchief. "We were ALL her best friends, Puss," Alvin corrected. "She WAS acting right 'round the bend lately," Richard added. "But I suppose that's to be expected. The Coroner himself told me the syphilis probably took hold of her brain." "How ghastly! I didn't even know she was infected," the woman named Priscilla said. "They found a note she left," Alvin added, "saying she'd caught it and they've the blood test results from her doctor so they didn't bother with an autopsy. I hope we're all safe." Priscilla turned her head sharply and gave him a severe look. "Is there some question of that, Alvin?" "Of course not, lambie. I was only speculating." "Well, it's all very peculiar," Priscilla said, standing. "A new Will, this whole freeze-dried business--" "Cryonics," Alvin corrected. "--and sending her body to Austria, of all places! I didn't know she'd ever been to Austria, let alone knew an Austrian well enough to designate as her main beneficiary. Does anyone know this Austrian?" The two men shook their heads as they got to their feet. "At least her pain is over. Maybe she's happier now," Richard offered. "She does look peaceful." "Don't be daft!" Priscilla snapped. "Would YOU be happier dead? This is becoming awfully morbid. Let's be off, shall we?" "Good idea," Alvin answered. "You two go on ahead. I'll see you at the pub later. Oh, and tell that divine young French lad, François, I'll be along directly." After they had gone, Richard stood by the coffin staring at Jeanette. "Well, ducks, it's hard to believe you're beyond the veil," he told her. "You look splendid, even more than when you were living. But I suppose that was the illness." "She IS ravishing." Richard spun around, startled. Obviously he'd been unaware that anyone else was in the room. Julien approached the coffin and stopped. Inside the cryonics cylinder lay Jeanette's body. He'd had her dressed in the scarlet Victorian gown, her ruby and pearl jewellery, and the beaded boots. Most of her rich white-gold hair was piled elegantly on top of her head, but a few strands lay artfully curled over her neck and shoulders. Within an hour of her demise all the wounds, marks and bruises had disappeared from her body, a further indication that the change was successful. She rested inside the clear plastic, itself seventy percent encased by an air-tight metal container. Nearby a small compressor hissed, pumping into the metal the liquid nitrogen which would keep her frozen until Julien woke her. He leaned forward and placed a bouquet of garlic flowers on top of the plastic. "Excuse me. Do I know you?" Richard asked. "I can't quite place you." Julien only partially turned in his direction. "I think not, unless, perhaps you have some interest in hybrids." "Oh!" Richard said. But he seemed more startled by the appearance than by the response. The look on Richard's face suggested that perhaps corpse and viewer should change places. "No, that's not it. But I'm certain I've seen you before. Did you know Jeanette well?" "In a particular context. Business, if you will." Julien turned towards Richard and looked deeply into his eyes. Richard yawned. "So sorry. It's been a long day. You sold her plants or flowers, then?" "One might conclude that I am responsible for her interest in garlic flowers. As you are no doubt aware, she seemed to have a passion for them." Richard, as if in a trance, suddenly turned and walked out the door. "They're so like children, aren't they?" came a lyrical voice from behind Julien. "Longing to converse with death, yet no matter what form he takes, they refuse to acknowledge his presence. And we have taken on the role of the dark angel, guarding their frightened souls, soothing their troubled minds, trying our best to protect them from their shadowy selves. I'm often astounded that they consider us a threat." "Poetically put, Gurteg," Julien smiled. "Thank you, my old friend. I'm partial to poetry. And poets. I find their blood more stimulating." The young Indian man laughed. He walked around the coffin until he and Julien faced each other. "The shippers are here to take her to the airport. Is everything settled?" "Yes. The private pilot you recommended has been retained. She will arrive in Vienna before me." "I'm impressed by the attention you give to details. It's getting more and more difficult to transform them, particularly when they're in the public eye, as she was. Cryogenics is the only process above the embalming laws. Of course, it's just the foolish dream of science. The dead can never be resuscitated. Maybe, if the body is frozen prior to death... But that's an ethical question for the mortals to debate. But for now regeneration is impossible. As you well know, human cells, like water when it's frozen, crystallize and expand and, in the warming process, explode. Only our kind, with our unique cell structure, can survive such extremes and repair the damage." "I commend you, Gurteg. Although your pursuits are not ones I would choose, I see that they bring you contentment." "They fill the time between Kaellie's visits. And I really enjoy working with death. It gives me constant insights into my own condition." "You've changed," Julien commented, amused by the grey patterns of artificial colour in the younger man's hair. "Yes. We've been here long enough that we have repeat customers--not the deceased, naturally, but their relatives. They force me to age. Soon we'll have to move on." Julien nodded in understanding, and they stopped talking. Both vampires found themselves staring at Jeanette. "She is unusual," Gurteg said. "Yes. Perhaps this one..." but Julien left it unfinished. "The sleeping beauty, waiting for the black prince to awaken her to the dark passions." "'If you saw me perhaps you would fear me, perhaps adore me... But all I ask of you is to love me. I would rather you love me as an equal than adore me as a God.'" "EROS AND PSYCHE. A beautiful love story with a happy ending," Gurteg said, placing the metallic lid over the clear plastic. He took a ratchet from behind a screen and bolted down the lid, placing a padlock into the available slot, locking metal to metal. He handed the key to Julien. "You're still so tortured. It's painful to see." "Gurteg, you are not alone. You cannot know." "That's true, in one sense. But she is different. We are different. Neither of us is the way we once were and we keep changing. But you understand how it is with our kind." Julien understood only too well. He turned to leave but before he could go Gurteg embraced him. "You know I wish you well. I hope you find release." To be continued... |
Updated October 2003