Time goes by, I guess a couple of weeks. I pick up bits and pieces of information about who I am now, learn to hunt with the others, sometimes alone, and I interface with that beautiful equipment, impressed by what these Brujah have. I don’t get the impression that anybody else here knows how to use it; I’ve asked Calliope a couple of times why they chose me, because it seems obvious that I was in fact singled out, but she won’t really answer. Well, I’m not complaining. Just because I have it and because it represents part of whyever it was I was chosen, I’d set to work on that zip cartridge, and what I’ve found has blown my mind. It was well encrypted, hell, it kept me out for several nights, but once I opened it I found something only theorized about. In a teeny, tantalizing, two nanosecond snatch of information, I found a fragment of what seems to be trinomial code, an code based on yes, no, and… maybe. If somebody has found a way to program with this, it will be the way to AI. But who has done this, and why? Sure as hell wasn’t the graphic design house my client claimed to be from. And here I thought I was such a good judge of character.
Calliope comes into the computer room tonight; now there’s a surprise. She looks around at the machines like they’re something incomprehensible, which I suppose to her they are. Seating herself gingerly on the edge of a desk, she tells me that I’ve been invited to an oboe recital—a what?—at the Toreador haven, a concert to be given by their newest childe. It doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice. What the hell is an oboe? I say to Calliope, “well, you’ll be there, right? We can bail if it’s unbearable?” but no, with a look on her face that says she’s anything but sorry, she informs me that I’m going alone. Bitch. I don’t say that out loud. I have until ten or so tonight to get ready; damn, if this doesn’t call for a drink or six, I don’t know what does.
A drink or six later, the Tremere Leonardo arrives. I wonder if he’s as nervous about letting a Brujah into his vehicle as this Brujah is about getting into a Tremeremobile. With a last resentful glare at Calliope, I’m out the door. There’s a human driving the car—well, not a human, a ghoul I suppose. How Tremere. I don’t think Leonardo is any more comfortable than I am with this whole thing. At least he doesn’t know what a damn oboe is either. We cross the river into Cambridge and pull into the Greene Street parking garage. Well, so far, so good; at least the Tremere hasn’t pulled anything. Yet. The ghoul parks the car a couple of levels up.
As we step out of the car, Eleanor and another Toreador are there to greet us. The other Toreador catches my eye; she isn’t what I expected to see, all angles and harshness, black and silver. She looks more like a Brujah to me. Well, don’t forget she’s a Toreador, girl, no matter what she looks like. And now here comes Cinderella to make an event out of meeting us in a parking garage—some people. She introduces her companion, Ravyn, and welcomes us to Cambridge. Somehow as I listen to her though she seems alright, a little more genuine than she had before. Maybe she’s not such a drip after all. I ask her what kind of music she’ll be playing, to be polite; I don’t understand a word of what comes out of her mouth, but she seems pleased that I asked. See, Toreador? I do know how to behave in public, when it suits me.
We’re ready to follow the two Toreador to their haven, which I’m amused to hear is the nightclub ManRay. Figures. Cars screeching around the corner—what is this? No time to run; we’re trapped against the Tremere vehicle as the cars, I think there’s three of them, block off the exit ramps and twelve men get out, ringing us in. These are not good odds at all, especially considering the lot I’m standing with. There’s no doubt that these men want us, and I’m sure it must be me they’re after, if these aren’t Sabbat they’re probably their ghouls. Damn, damn, damn. I wish my clan was with me… The leader of the men steps forward and asks—for Leonardo?!? What the hell did he do? I turn and stare at him, which I guess would have been a bad thing to do if he were going to try to hide, but he steps forward and identifies himself, saying if their quarrel is with him, they should let the rest of us go. I can see that’s not too likely though; these men hate us, I can feel it. Some of them have drawn weapons—shit, they’re firing at us! I dive for the car, for safety. I can see Leonardo had the same thought, while Eleanor seems to have fainted away. I don’t know what happened to the ghoul; he’s down.
Ravyn picks up Eleanor like a sack of flour and hauls ass over the barrier between parking levels—she’s got the right idea, Leonardo and I both realize, and we follow her. The men are in pursuit, still firing their strange silent weapons, and now we’re trapped against the back wall of the garage, nowhere to go. Ravyn dumps Eleanor to the ground; she must be conscious, because she scuttles under a car. Great, fat lot of help she’ll be. Leonardo, fuck, he’s leaping off the side of the building! I hear him hit trees, then a thud a moment later. He’s down on the ground, looks ok. I look over at Ravyn, standing to fight—I feel a momentary pang about leaving her, but this is suicidal, and I have no desire to stand and protect somebody who won’t fight for herself. Over the edge I go.
I don’t land quite so well; Leonardo drags me behind a car. I have to take the time to heal myself enough to get the hell out of here. I’m feeling weak. Leonardo doesn’t look so good either. A couple walking by cross the street to avoid us; lucky for them. Leonardo’s asking me something. Must focus. He’s asking me where to go. ManRay’s not far; we can go there. We help each other up and stagger down the sidewalk; we must look like a couple of winos. A moment later shots whiz past our heads; shit, pursuit. C’mon, I tell Leonardo, and pull him down an alley. I vault a fence into a backyard, Leonardo lurching after me. What is with these other clans… We’re trapped again against the back door of a house, but I pick the lock quickly and we’re racing through the house, past the Cleavers eating supper. My, they do look tasty, too. No time for snacks though. Out the front door, on Greene Street now, which is good because it’s a one way street the wrong way for pursuit. We seem to have lost them anyway. At the club now—what the hell? The doors are locked and the gates pulled closed. There must be another entrance, for booze deliveries and stuff. We run around back and pound on the service door, heedless of human observers.
The door opens; it’s Kierney, looking puzzled to see us alone, then shocked when he realizes the state we’re in. Leo and I are babbling at once about the men—Kierney holds up a hand and growls at us, “Stop! You mean you left my children there alone?” Shit, not good. I think we’re in real danger, and I’m suddenly conscious that I’m alone in another clan’s haven. I tell him that we came to bring help, that we came to bring him. Which to tell the truth, is a lie; all I was thinking about was saving myself and getting some blood, but hey, I don’t think that would be the right answer just now. Kierney looks like a thunderstorm about to happen, but at least it’s not directed at us. “Follow me,” he commands, and he pushes past us, leather coat flapping, and I see he’s pretty well armed. Not just another pretty face, it seems. Going back to the garage is the last thing I want to do, but I don’t think I have much of a choice. Leonardo must be thinking the same thing, because we fall in together behind Kierney, racing back the way we’d just come.
It’s quiet when we get there, but it’s not a calm quiet. It’s a malignant, watching quiet. Kierney heads for the stairs and I follow. Leonardo wants to go up the ramp and come down on the men from above; I think he’s a fool for splitting up, but it’s his funeral. A moment later I think he might have had the right idea, as Kierney and I are pinned against the wall of the stairwell by decidedly unfriendly fire. Kierney’s gone faster than I can see him, and I hear struggle above. Can’t stay here; I speed up the stairs to find Kierney’s taken out the lone man who was shooting at us. He’s moving on up the next flight, and I follow him, pausing to grab the dead man’s gun. Pinned again—we’re going to have to fight for every level. Together we rush these shooters, two this time. Kierney’s dispatched his and is moving on, I shoot at the other. I knock him down but he’s not dead; I’m not wasting any fucking time with this one. I’m standing over him before he has time to move, and execution-style, I blow his unlucky brains out. Teach him to fuck with us. But now I’m having trouble, gun’s empty, there’s more of the men coming over, I’m grappling with one, another of them has, what the fuck is that, a stake? Can that really kill me? I’m scared, and that’s my undoing; as I hesitate in fear, frantically looking for an opening, they rush me, and that stake is coming at me, tearing into me, stopping my undead heart right in its tracks.
Well, I’m not dead; although I might as well be, since I can’t move, can’t even move my eyes or turn my head to see what’s happening. I can hear the fighting continue; it sounds like Leonardo’s arrived, I wish I knew what the hell was happening. A veritable eternity later, I hear a “splurp” and my body is wracked with shudders as my heart starts beating again, I can sit up, Kierney has pulled out the stake. Damn, this hurts. He’s holding Eleanor now; wonder where the hell she was in all this? Looks like she’s sleeping peacefully as a babe. Why did I think I had any respect for her? Not that she would have been of much use in the fighting anyway… “Find my other childe, find Ravyn,” he commands, and with that he’s gone, coat flapping like a batcape, as he takes poor wittle Eleanor back where it’s nice and safe. Leonardo’s here; looks like he got staked too. He has my sympathy. We look at each other, and there’s no need to say anything: we both feel like death warmed over, but we’ll feel a hell of a lot worse if we don’t do what Kierney said and he catches us later. Drag myself to my feet again, pick up a gun…
Ravyn’s obviously not on this level any more, and Leo didn’t see her on his way up, so that leaves the roof. No need to look far; there’s a man in priest’s clothing standing over something between two cars. The intensity on his face looks almost obscene, and when he turns to look at us, pure hatred shines out of his eyes at us. He saves most of it for Leo. Despite his hatred, we’re able to take him out, find Ravyn between the cars—shit, I thought I looked bad. Her face is a mess; her eyes look burnt out, like somebody tossed acid into her face. Leonardo steps over to her, and before I have time to warn him that it’s probably a bad idea, he touches her shoulder—man, she may look like mincemeat, but she’s still got quite a backhand on her, and the words that are coming out of her mouth would make Howard Stern blush. I think Leo’s jaw is broken. I start talking to her, telling her it’s ok, that it’s Leo and Electra, that Kierney sent us. At the mention of Kierney’s name, she calms down a bit, but she’s still pretty hysterical. Leo’s pulled himself back together and is checking out the priest’s corpse. I hear him gasp; he’s burnt himself like Ravyn is burnt. “what is this stuff?” he asks, eyeing a broken glass vial on the ground. “holy water, why the hell not, it would go with the stakes,” I reply. Ravyn needs blood if we’re going to be able to get her out of here. I ask if she’d like to drink from the priest; she says his blood would burn. Leo offers her some of his blood; what a gentleman. She doesn’t seem to appreciate the offer; she swears at him and recoils against me. Gee, I’ve found a new friend. “Never, ever trust a Tremere, and never, ever drink their blood,” she hisses at me. Even if I felt inclined to do so, I couldn’t give her enough blood to enable her to walk out of here without incapacitating myself, so it looks like we carry her out. Leo says we need to drain the priest’s blood, to make sure he's dead, and wants one of my knives to do it with. Right, boyo. I don’t hand over knives to anyone. I tell him I’ll do it, and slit the priest’s wrists vertically, making sure I don’t come into any contact with the blood. Hungry as I am, I can tell that this stuff is foul.
We turn back to Ravyn. “Don’t let that Tremere touch me,” she spits out. Great, so I’m supposed to carry her back myself? Why do I get to be the lucky one she apparently trusts? I help her to her feet; as we stumble past the priest’s body she stops. “Is that him on the ground there?” She must be able to see a little. When I answer yes, she starts kicking the body with more strength than I’d’ve thought she had in her, vicious hard sharp kicks that must be turning his internal organs to jelly. I have to pull her away.
Our fine looking trio staggers back to ManRay. If it weren’t for all the blood, we’d look like nightcrawlers who partied a little too hard too early in the evening. Hopefully nobody will look too closely. Back at the Toreador haven, I give Ravyn to her own clan, and Kierney says he owes us. Damn fucking straight he does. I take the blood the Toreadors offer me. At this point I don’t care where the hell it came from. Leonardo seems to think it’s ok, so I’ll just hope for the best. Although I hope pretentiousness isn’t contagious, because if it is, I’ll catch it from the friggin’ chalices the blood is served in. I give Brujah Central a ring and tell whoever answered the phone to come get me the hell out of here. Which they do; “I love you guys” I exclaim as I leap into yet another big ass Brujah car, and duck as my nearest homey tries to slug me. I fill them in on what happened, and in turn they tell me about the Inquisition, which pretty much explains all the hatred and anger. We raise toasts to the killing of Inquisitors for the rest of the night. I really do love those guys.
Chapter 5, in which Calliope and I are far too nosy for our own good