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11

Fareed

FAREED WAS BACK at the Chateau working on the computer in his private quarters. Gregory stood by his side. And in a far-off corner of the great carpeted chamber, seemingly lost among the gilded furnishings, sat the solitary figure of Seth, black haired and golden skinned as Fareed was, dressed simply in a collarless black Chinese jacket and soft pants as Fareed was, yet occupying a stillness which the more animated and agitated Fareed never knew.

Fareed was tapping rapidly on the computer keyboard, reviewing screen after screen of information as the great Chateau entered its quietest hour before the rising of the sun. A full snowstorm was closing in on the Chateau and the little village beneath it, and the forests that surrounded them both.

Lestat had already gone to his crypt in the bowels of the mountain, as had most of those under the roof. And Fareed, fascinated as he was by what he was discovering, would soon have to retreat to the crypts as well.

Only an hour before, Fareed and Seth had returned from Geneva, to begin the search for the story of two dark-skinned fugitives, Dr. Karen Rhinehart and her male companion, online. These two weren't human, no one any longer was disputing that, and Fareed was more fascinated by the mystery of what they might be than the question of any threat they might pose. Fareed was a powerful blood drinker, having been made by Seth, who was one of the eldest survivors of the tribe. And through a series of blood exchanges over the years, Fareed had imbibed the blood of young and old vampires, seeking to enhance his own mental and physical gifts. Fareed had a multitude of theories about the biological nature of vampires. His life offered him countless magnificent discoveries, no matter where he turned. But he had to focus on Dr. Karen Rhinehart now, no doubt about it.

He was convinced there had been some sort of complex laboratory in Dr. Rhinehart's private apartment in Geneva. That was the only explanation he could find for the innumerable electrical and gas outlets he'd discovered there, and the long tables, one of which had been fitted with restraints that might have been applied to a body.

Surveillance video revealed Dr. Rhinehart and her companion taking extra precautions with two of the crates removed from the building, both of which were at least seven feet long and might have contained bodies.

Fareed was furious with himself that he had not closed in on her sooner before she'd had a chance to flee. He was absolutely certain now that Dr. Rhinehart was onto the nature of Gregory Duff Collingsworth, the founder of Collingsworth Pharmaceuticals, and that listening to Benji Mahmoud's nightly broadcasts had alerted her to the existence of another non-human entity like her, Garekyn Zweck Brovotkin, who was still evading capture on the West Coast.

Why else would she have begun her move at the very moment the news of Garekyn's capture and escape had been broadcast?

Fareed had returned from Geneva anxious to use the powerful human resources of the Court to trace the two non-humans.

But in the meantime, the DNA material in the records of Collingsworth Pharmaceuticals for Dr. Karen Rhinehart--her faked health records--had led Fareed to a remarkable story, which he shared now with the others in bursts of reading aloud and wild verbalized speculation. He never forgot for a moment that Seth couldn't read his thoughts, or that Gregory seemed unreasonably skeptical with regard to the missing doctor, and really had to be convinced of how extraordinary was all this talk of non-humans.

As Dr. Flannery Gilman had discovered, the DNA match for the blood samples had proved to be a woman in Bolinas, California, owner of a famous bed-and-breakfast hotel. Her name was Matilde Green. Old newspapers, now available online, recounted how Matilde Green had found two people unconscious on the beach one night near her hotel in 1975. It had been in the aftermath of a great storm.

The woman and the man, severely emaciated, naked, and unconscious, had been locked in each other's arms as if they'd been "sculpted out of stone together," until revived by Green, who had built a fire of driftwood to warm them while rushing up to her hotel for brandy and blankets to aid in the salvation of the pair.

In the dark ages of 1975, the only telephone connection at the bed-and-breakfast hotel had gone down during the worst of the gale.

For twelve years the woman and the man, known as Kapetria and Welf, lived with Matilde Green in her large ramshackle hotel, providing invaluable aid to her in the restoration of the old building and its management. They had also been Matilde's devoted caretakers during several severe bouts of illness that landed Matilde in the hospital for extended periods. The bed-and-breakfast became a legend on that part of the coast, and so did Kapetria and Welf, and Matilde Green.

Cheerful stories in small regional newspapers, and a couple in the San Francisco Examiner, told how Welf and Kapetria were experts in homeopathic medicines, and medicinal teas, of how they gave as good a therapeutic massage as any to be found anywhere, and painted and roofed and repaired the old hotel with boundless gratitude and zeal. Matilde who has suffered all her life with juvenile diabetes credited her two friends with keeping her alive when doctors had pretty much given up on her. Indeed, she was alive now, against all odds, at the age of one hundred and three, and was still visited by the mysterious pair on a regular basis.

However, the couple had taken their leave in 1987 "to go forth into the world," as Matilde put it tearfully, when she had hosted "a huge bash" to say farewell to her "children of the sea." After that came a number of brief mentions of the hotel's continuing prosperity, and finally full newspaper and YouTube video coverage of Matilde's last birthday party, with Welf and Kapetria helping to feed over two hundred guests on a bright sunny afternoon last spring.

These careless home videos maddened Fareed somewhat for what they did not reveal, nevertheless he got his closest glimpse of the faces of Kapetria and Welf and his best taste of their voices. Both spoke perfect accentless English, fielding questions about their mysterious appearance on the California beach years before with polite admissions that they loved being a mystery, and part of local lore and the tales of the amazing health benefits of the area for those who sought out the "B&B" for restorative retreats.

"Well, that's it, there isn't anything else," said Fareed finally. "But it's obvious, the comparisons to the stories of Garekyn found in a Siberian cave."

"But how did this woman become part of my company?" said Gregory. "She's been working for me for years. My security should have caught all this. My security isn't what..."

"Your company's security is not the issue at hand," said Seth in a low voice. "It's imperative we discover what these beings are because they know about us."

"I'm not convinced on any of this," Gregory responded, using his most agreeable tone of voice. "I told you, I have traveled this world," he insisted politely. "I have been everywhere. I have never seen anything like these be

ings before, and I trust that there will be some very disappointing explanation for all this, and we'll soon go back to facing the true important issues that challenge the Court now."

"And what are those issues, if not our own safety?" asked Seth wearily. "This woman's been studying you at close hand for years; and using your money for her occult enterprises."

There seemed some deep gulf between these two that Fareed could sense but not fathom. But it was clear that in some way, Gregory looked down on Seth as the resurrected relic of a primitive age, while considering himself the full expression of what an immortal could be. And Seth regarded Gregory as compromised by the immense energy he put into his identity in the mortal world as the resolute chairman of his chemical empire. At times Seth let slip that he was weary of Gregory's vanity, and preoccupation with worldly power. Seth had no need to be known or loved by mortals. Far from it. But Gregory seemed very much dependent on the adulation of thousands.

"I have the lawyers in Paris on her credit cards," said Fareed, "but the woman may have multiple identities, in which case there is likely no clue to where she and the man have gone. We can call this woman Matilde, of course, and send people to watch the B and B, but Kapetria and Welf would be fools to go there."

Seth rose from the chair. He appeared stiff and cold as he often did right before morning, and this was his mute signal that it was time for him and Fareed to retire to the crypts.

Fareed rose from his desk. The three moved towards the door.

"Well, it's all over for us for the moment," said Gregory. "I should have the analysis of all her research projects on my desk at the Paris office when we wake. We'll find out what she was actually doing at the company."