LITMIR.BIZ

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you again. How is your favourite little vampire? I assume he still can’t stand the sight of you?”

      Frankenstein shook his head. “You are a petty child, Valentin. Can’t you resist the urge to provoke, even this once?”

      “It’s hardly provocation, my dear Colonel,” replied the vampire. “The very purpose to which you have devoted yourself for so long has been removed. One Carpenter out there alone, impotent to influence the events for which he spent his life preparing, the other a central player in what is to come, but who rejects your help. Your situation strikes me as nothing less than an existential crisis, and I am intrigued as to whether you see it in similar terms. But we can continue to talk about banalities, if you prefer? Perhaps you could tell me how the weather has been lately?”

      “Mostly cloudy,” said Frankenstein.

      Valentin didn’t respond; he merely stared at the monster with his pale blue eyes, and waited.

      “I want to hear about Larissa,” said Frankenstein, eventually. “If we are unburdening ourselves, I want to hear about the night she left.”

      “I will tell you what I feel is mine to tell,” said Valentin. “You have my word.”

      “Fine,” he said. “Then no. Jamie still can’t stand the sight of me. He can be in the same room as me now, can even acknowledge me in the presence of others, but somehow that seems worse. When he hated me, when anger radiated out of him so thickly I could almost see it, it was painful but at least it was real emotion, clear and unchecked. But now? Now he just seems indifferent, and that hurts far more.”

      “You have lived a long life,” said Valentin. “You have known many men, both good and bad and everything in between. Yet despite all that human experience, you were unable to see that this might unfold as it has? I find that hard to believe.”

      “Of course I knew,” said Frankenstein. “Jamie prizes loyalty above everything else. It’s one of the very best things about him, even when it prompts him to be reckless and stupid. A long time ago a traitor told him I was there the night he saw his father die, and his anger at what he believed was my betrayal almost got him killed. I knew that if the truth about Julian came out, he would not be able to forgive me again. But what choice did I have?”

      “Tell him the truth?” suggested Valentin.

      “Brilliant,” said Frankenstein. “Just tell him that he didn’t really see his father die, because I helped Julian fake his own execution, and that the man he mourned was probably still alive, despite not even being able to be certain about that. What good would that have done him?”

      “I suspect Jamie’s argument would be that it was not your decision to make.”

      “I was trying to protect him,” said Frankenstein, his voice low. “As I swore I always would.”

      “I believe you,” said Valentin. “What I do not believe is that you have given up any hope of a reconciliation. Surely that is not the case?”

      Frankenstein let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s been more than six months, and I feel nothing between us except ever-expanding distance. And in all honesty, why would he waste his time on such a reconciliation? He doesn’t need me now, if he ever did.”

      “Perhaps you should tell him that,” said Valentin. “That you understand he doesn’t need you. Offer him a friend, rather than a protector.”

      “I don’t know,” repeated Frankenstein. “The prudent thing to do is leave him alone. There are bigger things at stake than hurt feelings.”

      “Honourable,” said Valentin, and smiled thinly. “Stupid, but honourable. If the world ends, what will prudence have mattered? All it will have gained you is months of uncertainty and unhappiness.”

      Frankenstein grimaced. “You’ve made your point,” he said. “And I really don’t want to talk about this any more. You’re never going to tell anyone where Larissa is, are you?”

      Valentin shook his head. “She asked me not to. And I won’t betray her, not after France. She could have let me die, but she didn’t.”

      The monster smiled. “Of course, we only have your word for what she said that night,” he said. “For all we know, she specifically asked you to tell everyone where she went.”

      “True,” said the vampire. “Is that what you think she said?”

      Frankenstein shook his head. “No,” he said. “I think she wanted to disappear, I think she asked for your help, and I don’t think you agreed because you were grateful for France. I think you agreed because you knew it would cause trouble. Although I suppose I can’t prove that either, can I?”

      “If that was the case,” said Valentin, “the person I would have known it would cause the most trouble for, the person it would upset the most, is Jamie Carpenter, whom I rather like. In the scenario you describe, my options would have been to either refuse to help someone to whom I owed my life, or do something that would cause pain to someone I respect. Can I assume that even you might find such a decision unpleasant?”

      “You did cause Jamie pain,” said Frankenstein. “Just as you caused it to yourself.”

      “How so?” asked Valentin, his eyes narrowing.

      “When was the last time Jamie came down here to seek your counsel?” he asked. “It seems that I’m not the only person he’s withdrawn from.”

      A smile rose on to Valentin’s narrow face. “Clever, my friend,” he said. “And you are quite right, he does seem to have rather tired of my company. I imagine that makes you feel delightfully warm and happy?”

      “No,” said Frankenstein, his voice low. “It doesn’t. I would rather he was talking to you than not talking to anyone.”

      “How flattering to be considered better than nothing,” said Valentin.

      “Tell me something,” said Frankenstein, ignoring the vampire’s rebuke. “Do you think Larissa is ever coming back?”

      Valentin shrugged. “I honestly have no idea,” he said. “But I’ll ask you a question in return. Would you voluntarily throw yourself into this maelstrom?”

      “I did,” said the monster, a crooked smile on his face. “So did you.”

      “Correct,” said the vampire. “And look where it got us.”

      “In which case, let me ask you something else,” said Frankenstein. “How do you think all this is going to end?”

      Valentin smiled widely. “Badly,” he said. “More tea?”

      

      Jamie watched Kate walk into the officers’ mess and smiled as she stopped to talk to a table full of Operators near the door. It had only been thirty-six hours since he had sat beside her in the Zero Hour briefing, but he was genuinely struggling to remember when they had last spent time in each other’s company, for no other reason than that they wanted to.

      On the other side of the room, Kate laughed loudly at something, and was joined by the men and women sitting at the table. Jamie recognised Mark Schneider and Carrie Burgess, two of the NS9 Operators who had been brought to the Loop by Larissa, what now seemed an impossibly long time ago, and his smile widened. It was good to see Kate chatting happily with her colleagues; there had been a time, barely six months earlier, when she would have struggled to find more than a handful of people in the entire Loop who were willing to speak to her – Kate’s involvement in the ISAT investigation and her widely perceived status as Paul Turner’s favourite had alienated much of the Department. Now,

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