Sarah got up early. She had a cup of tea. Vampires appreciate clear broths and thin, hot beverages. Their bodies require moisture after all and they don't cull victims every night. Then she sat in the salon (what we might call a living room) waiting for the others to come down. The android woman asked if she'd like some music. There was a very authentic, though digitalized harpsichord positioned in an alcove. The android woman said it had everything from Mozart to Billy Joel. But Sarah demurred, preferring to sit there by a window. Daylight, or what passed for daylight around here felt good and that 'sun' thing anchoring the center of this hollow world looked quite like the genuine article. The sky was blue, though more translucent than Earth's. She could see details and geography far away on the other side. That was a bit disorienting, but she'd get used to it.
Six hundred heartbeats later, Doctor Franklin came down. He looked at her and said - My, my, my... Then he sighed... Sarah said - What does that mean?... He said - I was picturing you in your new frocks, my dear. Quite fetching, I must say. Although I think First Empire France might be more your thing. But a delicate, floral challis with a complimentary velvetine bodice should more than suffice....
And the old reprobate would have leaned in to kiss her, had not Tomas walked in. Not that he feared the temporarily mortal vampire, but proprieties exist for a reason. So he patted her hand, sat down and called for a 'breakfast blend,' his usual morning brew. The artificial woman brought him some in a delicate, porcelain cup. He thanked her. She nodded. He sipped, savored the rich, robust flavor (meant to wake people up) and said - One for Mister Tomas, too, Martha... The artificial woman obliged. And there they were, three unusual 'human' organisms taking good English tea in a Georgian sitting room snug within a scooped out moon. They made quiet small talk, while waiting for Billy and Luna to come down. Billy'd sleep till noon if you let him and Luna was always contrary. Soon she'd ask Martha (the artificial woman), or one of the other servants to help fix her hair. Moments later, as her companions conversed, Sarah noticed Martha sitting off in a corner reading what looked like a Bible. She even mouthed prayers.... Sarah interrupted whatever it was the two gentlemen were discussing and asked - Doctor Franklin, your housekeeper, she's some sort of robot. Am I right?.... The Doctor chuckled, smiled and nodded.... Sarah continued - Her spiritual devotion. Might I ask, is it programmed or real?...... Oh, quite real, my dear girl. Martha is a pillar of her congregation. Instructs the young and everything. Wrote two hymns, if I'm right.... He turned toward the prayerful 'woman' and said - Martha, how many God songs have you penned?..... She held up a hand, indicating 'three' then went right back to her devotions.... Sarah whispered - Did you give her a soul?..... Franklin said - I did not. She got that, or rather discovered it, as soon as she wanted one. The Deity is quite liberal in that regard. Would you agree, Tomas?..... The formerly one thousand year old vampire (though with an eighteen year old body) nodded and said - The righteous of all groups shall share in The World To Come. Miss Martha is nothing more than a representative of a new group. At least that's how I see it.
Soon after, Billy and Luna came down. Those able to tolerate such fare had eggs and rashers. Then they set off in the fine coach pulled by those exquisite automoton horses through the cobbled streets of Baby Philadelphia, as the polity and it's tradesmen embarked on another day. Billy would get his suede knee britches. Tomas would be attired in trim, spare, rather clerical garb. But the ladies, the 'vampirinas' would blossom as never before (they were young vampirinas, don't forget), wrapped in the language of a romantic age set far in advance of their nativity.
And even if the intra-lunar reality at hand was but a simulation of that time, the effect was very satisfying just the same.
Their meeting with that gentleman from the fourth dimension would come later, as would introductions to all manner of beings from an assortment of exotic and intoxicating worlds.
Selena, as the inner surface of our moon is called, is quite a sophisticated place...
<more next time>
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Now doctor Franklin had a townhouse in Baby Philadelphia. The place was patterned after his residence under The Anti-Enchantment Bureau, but minus the exterior vistas (holograms, since they were beneath the surface). If you're curious, google - photos of townhouse mansions in Philadelphia. The stately, red brick domicile occupied four stories. Tall, narrow, multi-paned windows let in lots of light. Floors were hand-laid walnut, burnished to a fine, rich, glow. Some of the furnishings were authentic, but most were Lunar made, though of exacting specifications. And the carpets, woven by intelligent cephalopods from another settlement planted inside the moon, equaled those wrought for the court at Versailles. Indeed, Doctor Benjamin Franklin was exceedingly fond of the house and quite proud of its comforts.
Martha, his automoton (but in reality, more like an android) housekeeper, met them at the door. Sarah and Luna, being vampirinas and used to sniffing out mortals, knew that right away. Even Tomas recognized the difference, in his temporarily mortal form. Vampire skills and abilities die hard. There were a pair of footmen too, Jack and Walter, but they were human. Three maids, also android, kept the place spick and span. And a gardener, named Chauncey, tended the small, walled sanctuary out back.
Each was given a room. Not counting staff quarters, the residence had seven bedrooms, all with en suites and small sitting areas, unheard of in Revolutionary times, but the Doctor likes HGTV (yes, you can click on it) and is quite up on things.
The Old Patriot (Doctor Franklin) said - Tomorrow we go for our fittings. Our tailors and seamstresses are quite adept and can reproduce a wide variety of eighteenth century attire. You'll get those suede, knee britches you asked for, Billy. And Tomas will find enough linen (term for shirts) and waistcoats to please his rarefied tastes. The ladies (Sarah & Luna) will be attended to by Madame Hortense, dressmaker to the fourth or fifth Duchess of Alba. Well, not the actual woman herself. But via careful scanings of her preserved brain (she lost her head during The Reign of Terror, you know) we were able to download her essence into the engineered woman you'll meet tomorrow.... Oh! I nearly forgot. We'll also be meeting a gentleman from the fourth dimension. And please don't stare. Beings like that are very different. They wax and wane, appearing to move about the room (and sometimes beyond) without warning. You see, in their dimension, everything exists as two poles of a spinning dumbbell. Living things, inanimate things, even the very world they live on. At times he will appear to occupy space already occupied by a wall, or a pie-safe or a lady. But no harm will be done. This is not like vampiric sublimation. So don't be alarmed. We look like rigid and diminished things to him. But he tells the best jokes. You'll like him.
Tomas (somewhat lost in his own thoughts) said - Who built this place? And if vampires, well, certain ones anyway, have traveled as far as Europa and swam with the manta-ray people under the ice, how is it we never stumbled on this place? (he meant the Dyson-like 'globe' occupying the inner surface of the moon.) ... Doctor Franklin just shrugged. no one knew the answer to that, even him.
Billy asked about conditions on Earth. Sarah wanted to know too. But he pretended not to hear. Why burden them with the truth?
So they repaired to their quarters to freshen up, then met in the Louis XV dining salon for victuals suited to their own special spiritual condition and physicality.
<more next time>
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So, as you know, Tomas and Sarah and Luna and Billy (have we missed anyone?) fled Earth aboard Doctor Franklin's covert space craft, The Poor Richard, arriving at Baby Philadelphia, premiere human settlement in the assorted melange that is the interior surface of the moon. Tomas had a brush with a loathsome alien specimen, but other than that, it's all been honky-dory. Trouble is, back on Earth, in the other Philadelphia, it ain't so honky-dory. (any linguists know the origin of that term?.... guessing Latin?).
Tomas' dream for an all inclusive world, where paranormals and just-plain-normals (abnormals too) live together in mutually beneficial bliss and brotherhood went kaput. (THAT, I KNOW is Latin). Too many human beans ain't evolved enough for that. Hell, we still ain't solved acne, flatulence and bad-hair-days. What do you expect?
Fundamentalist hordes of all stripes quickly formed vigilantes. And they know about vampiric inability to sublimate through lead, thus the old Eastern State Penitentiary rapidly morphed into a slip shod version of seventeenth century Europe's Black Fortress (google MARIANNE IN BRITCHES by Billy Kravitz and poke around, if you want to learn about that horrific place). Heavy,lead panels were bolted to walls, creating cells impervious to vampire abilities. Thin nets of the same noxious metal hung from ceilings and walls, blocking all avenues of escape. Indeed, the vast structure itself was shrouded in a gerrymandered assemblage of lead mesh. For night-folk (vampires) there was no way out. Terrified blood drinkers,swathed in heavy chains and lead reinforced blankets, babbled away in dark, dank cells, waiting for their turn in the crematorium ( actually, crudely altered pizza ovens, since actual crematoriums were few and far between).
The paranormal world went to ground. Even the witches, both born and trained, were silent. Werewolves of all types and castes still prowled the shadows, but they're daring. They do stuff like that. If you want to know more, google WEREWOLF CASTES by Billy Kravitz. That should provide some links and, as always, scroll or poke around.
Less well known denizens of the night, like SQUATCHES, Jersey Devils and merfolk (although, strictly speaking, they manifest in daylight too) simply stole away to their woodland and oceanic hideaways. But vampires suffered the most.
Baylah, our two hundred and fifty year old ( at least ) Beyonce lookalike hid with the mole people in their deep, deep warren of never-used, subway tunnels. Others you may know have vanished. Are they 'dead?' Is someone hiding them? Do they fight with various Armia Vampirida bands said to exist? Who knows?
And those non-decomposing zombies they have around here (Philadelphia) are just a bunch of collaborator-shits. That 'Uber Zombie' Uther aus Ulm is the worst. Rides around in a big, black GMC Denali all tricked out with bright silver trim. Bullet proof, they say it is. Fingers paranormal types... even innocent little elferinos and elferinas... cherubs too. District Leader What's His Name gave him a big apartment, high atop one of the Society Hill Towers. Probably a penthouse, because they have private elevators. Believe me... you don't want to go up there. Got a renegade, 'born' witch helping too. Don't know her name. Folks call her Maleficent, after the Disney character. But that's all anybody knows.
The Red Paint people (always secretive and trustworthy) operate an Underground Railway of sorts, funneling all types of beings out to The Jersey Pine Barrens, or down to The Smokies. And this stuff is spreading all over. They got Posses in Louisiana, Arizona and Houston.... San Diego too. So far most only target paranormals and paranormal sympathizers, but a lot of folks are desperate to get out of the country, or at least the blatantly infected parts. Tractor trailers barrel into Canada, but a Posse in Idaho and another in Michigan are already talking annexation, so what the hell good it that gonna do? New York is still relatively free. A lot head there. But they're starting to turn away people at the bridges and tunnels..... And don't even get me started on Russia, or Ukraine, or the Middle East, or Burma, or France. If I wasn't a disembodied, spirit narrator, I'd be running too.
But you can't kill a ghost twice, so, so far, we're OK.
You want to get rich? Hoard cans of tuna, or Campbell's Chunky Soup. But save some for yourself.....
You're gonna need it.
<next time we go back to the moon>
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if we used any words or terms you don't know, just Google (fill in any word of term) by Billy Kravitz and you should get something. thanks for coming. please COMMENT. tell your friends. good night.... 1:11AM somewhere in The New Jersey Pine Barrens...or maybe from The Moon.
The largest human settlement inside the moon is Baby Philadelphia, a polity shepherded by Doctor Franklin much as he molded its Earthly counterpart. Artisans brought out in the early days made moon rocks into cobbles and moon mud into bricks, recreating an Oz-like, scaled down replica of The Quaker City. Colonial and Federalist town houses face narrow, tree lined streets. Ladies who lunch frequent the private dining club atmosphere of Old City Tavern. Actors trod the boards of jewel box-like theaters. Politicos weave their webs in smoky coffee houses. Thirty five thousand souls inhabit this artful confection, the same number as lived in 'The City' (original central district) during The Revolution.
Men wear knee britches. Ladies affect long skirts, though less crinolined than in the early days. Multi-paned, bow windowed shops vend all manner of things from basest necessities to dearest luxuries. Fine, genetically perfected horses carry swains to secret assignations. Rich, lacquered coaches drawn by metallic, automaton steeds pull the 'carriage trade' on their rounds. Some use traditional horses, or at lease the genetically perfected kind. But most phaetons and broughams prefer the more mechanistic variety.
Doctor Franklin and his human, temporarily human and not quite human guests rode in one such arrangement... a dark red, hard polished coach pulled by four equally reflective, fully articulated, black, metal horses with keen, silicon 'eyes' and thoroughly computerized brains. His companions were quite entranced.
Tomas (the former vampire, now temporarily human) observed everything and said - Doctor, some of these citizens have a strange cast... an indeterminate 'race.'if you will, I cannot pin it down. The eyes look too large... the skin too porcelain ... the features too clipped. And I saw a woman with a turbaned, silk coated monkey that seemed to laugh at her jokes??? What are they?
Off World, my dear boy.... aliens, or at least tinged with alien blood. We have that here. Some of the other settlements are more-or less people-ish. Close enough chromosomally to breed. You'll meet a few later.
Sarah, the benevolent vampirina, asked about life-eaters (vampires) . She said - Will we meet any?..... But Doctor Franklin just smiled... And Luna, his vampirina-physician protegee, smiled too.
Billy, their human in-house blogger, didn't catch all them Mona Lisa faces. He just wanted to know where you go to get those cool knee britches and if they come in suede.
Earth and her problems was far, far away. But Edith was down there... so was Baylah.
Next time we'll talk to them...
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Tomas sat on the white marble steps. He liked watching the nighttime sky, but this world had none, just a sparse twinkling of ersatz stars blinking in the void. Clouds passed over head. Leaves rustled in the breeze. Conditions were more or less 'normal' in this vast, artificial habitat. They even had mosquitoes and crickets. But through the clouds, far, far out there, he could just barely see the hazy image of the opposite side. Green. (a forest?) Lights. (a town?) Humans? Monsters? Benevolent, or threatening?
And where did the gravity come from? Why didn't they all fall in toward the manufactured, sun-like thing at the center? He didn't like this place. So he closed his eyes, breathed in the nighttime air, or what passed for it and dreamed of home. But not Philadelphia, his real home.... the fragrant, sun kissed valleys of Al Andalus. After a time, he could smell the warm, dry perfume. He could taste the dates and olives. He could hear the cantor's prayer. Jonathon ben Macabi, also known as Tomas de Macabea was at peace. He leaned back against the stout, maple door of the shuttered inn and hummed a street song learned in the bazaars of Cordoba. If he only had an oud, or guitarra . How he loved to play.
So he never heard the thing as it approached. It's high pitched whoop? Perhaps a night bird. And it caught him by surprise. Nineteen feet in length it was. Fat like a walrus, humping along on small foot-like protrusions. Thick, wrinkled hide. Two heads. Elephant heads, they were, but earless and mouthless, each ending in a short, thick trunk. Large, black, front facing eyes... Spider's eyes... Eight of them... Four to a head. And this 'thing' brought here from another world was curious. What would a human (though it did not know that word) taste like? Should it masticate the prey, or swallow it whole? The left brain, in the left head, being the more logical of the two, opted for 'whole.' Three heartbeats later (human heartbeats, I mean) it reached out with a trunk-like proboscis and kissed his ankle. Tiny lancets mounted just inside the lose, mouth-like opening, perhaps remnants of long ago, arthropod mandibles, pierced his skin, injecting a cool, numbing, fluid. The other trunk, belonging to the other head, caressed our thousand year old, transplanted youth from Al Andalus, positioning his body so it's twin could suck him in. Tomas screamed. But it was a silent scream. His voluntary muscles no longer worked. Yet he was quite conscious of being eaten alive.
Luna, fresh from her first, Moon-World tryst, gazed through the mullioned bedroom window and saw it all. She gasped, crashed through the glass, vaulting down like an arrow, as her naked body instantly 'sublimated' right through the flaccid beast, shredding it to bits. Gray-red, gobbets of livery flesh flew everywhere, a feast for unseen crawly things. Then she dragged herself out from under what remained of the carcass and gently pulled her one time lover free.
He was just this side of death. And for the second time she quickened him with hot, little, blood-tinged kisses. Vampirinas can do that.
Doctor Franklin and the inn keeper raced 'round from the back, rifles at the ready. Takes time to unlock the gun cabinet and all. They immediately carried him back inside. Sarah, his consort, took over, helping him to a wash room, where she carefully bathed him and made him clean. Luna, now wrapped in a sheet, watched from across the hall, til Sarah quietly reached over and closed the door. Then she wiped her skin with a wet rag and got back into bed, where mister whoever he was still waited.
Tomorrow, God willing, they'd enter Baby Philadelphia...
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Got company tonight and I got to get up early.They don't understand 'creative' endeavors like blogging, writing or knotting lanyards out of gimp. Think books come printed from the factory and films come sealed in the can.
Frustrating....
But here's an easy way to have a (hopefully) fun Vampire Wonderland scavenger hunt.
Google ANY WORD OR TERM YOU LIKE... then type 'by Billy Kravitz' after it... See what weird and pixilated hoo-ha's pop up.... From the ridiculous to the (some have said) sublime.
No, really. some DID say 'sublime.' I don't think English was their first language, but they DID say it.
samples:
Boiled Pasta by Billy Kravitz well, I just tried it and this one didn't work, but the other two did... make some up.
False Teeth by Billy Kravitz
Eleanor Roosevelt by Billy Kravitz
SPONTANEOUS HUMAN COMBUSTION by Billy Kravitz <~~~ this one works real good. just tried it too.
try it. like Six Degrees Of Billy Kravitz..
boy, who'd a thunk it?
gotta go try some more.
also gotta go upstairs now and rouse one of the guests from his night terrors... Eerie in a dark house. (I work in a little sitting room, in a small pool of light from an old, iron floor lamp)
good night.
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A person looking out across the twenty one hundred mile diameter of the Lunar interior would see things with amazing clarity. Polities on the opposite side appear finely etched and crisp. Cities raised by strange hands shine like filigree. The view is occasionally hidden by clouds, near ones above the observer's hear, or more distant manifestations far away over kingdoms on the other side.
The resurrected former vampire, known as Tomas, or Jonathon is one such observer. But he looks out into blackness. The small, sun-like thing at the center of this hidden world is dark now. A few star-like pinpoints of silvery light shine here and there in the globular void. Doctor Franklin says they have no mass, but are very real just the same.
Everyone else is inside, the inn locked snug against the night.
Sarah reads old volumes in the small, circular library, many brought out from old estates in The Home Counties, or The Mainline. She loses herself in Edith Wharton....The Age Of Innocence and all that. Vampires appreciate the timeless dignity of it. The other comely vampirina, Luna sleeps with a human traveler. Not a newcomer from Earth, but a native descended from the First Crossing, brought by Franklin approximately one hundred and seventy years ago.... a businessman of some sort. She enjoys him. He lets her take little drinks.... not too much. Mustn't stain the sheets. The blood tastes good... not a full measure... not a true meal.... no one dies. Luna makes due.
Doctor Franklin sits by the glowing hearth with the landlord. They sip brandy, an old decanting brought from Spain during The Spanish Civil War. The landlord is a tall man. Most of the Selenese (as people from Selena, the inner surface of The Moon, are called) are tall. Low gravity does that. Bones grow straight and long. The man wears knee britches and a full, white shirt, though with Gucci loafers. Franklin introduced eighteenth century garb in the middle of the nineteenth century, but small mutations violate the norm every now and then.
FRANKLIN - How goes the hunting hereabouts?
THE LANDLORD - Two last time. What do you think you just ate?
FRANKLIN - (chuckles) That's why I asked.... Any 'two heads?'
THE LANDLORD - Skull drying out back. Gave the other one away. Had a ninety pound Labrador in its gut. Swallowed with the eyes open and everything. You should have seen the look on its face. Ribs intact. Not crushed. Breathing, it was. They say one down by New Chester had a fresh, whole fat lady inside. Kin knew her... a bit bleached out and shiny, but otherwise OK. Dead, but OK... Like she had a real strong facial. That's all. Want to see? (fishes out phone) I,I,I got pictures....
FRANKLIN - (takes phone) stares at image for a while. nods. hands it back.
THE LANDLORD - None 'round here. Not yet... too close to Baby Philadelphia. Got to go 'cross the river... Look for 'silver tracks,' slime trails. Got to listen too....
FRANKLIN - For what?
THE LANDLORD - Like a hiss. Like a hiss. Like how an old fashioned, cast iron radiator goes. And sometimes a high pitched whoop thing too.
FRANKLIN - Lord, I haven't been back in years. A whoop? What kind of whoop?
The Landlord - Like a whoop. Like a whoop. Like how Prince goes.
.
FRANKLIN - (shakes his head) I...I, uh???
THE LANDLORD - Like a whoop. Like a whoop! Like a...
They hear a 'whoop' in the distance, outside
THE LANDLORD swallows. FRANKLIN listens real hard.
THE LANDLORD - (whispers) that...
FRANKLIN - (whispers) shit... Where's Tomas?
THE LANDLORD - (whispers) outside...
They hear another whoop.
THE LANDLORD - (whispers) Jackson, I meant Michael Jackson...
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