Fat Vampire Value Meal (Books 1-4 in the series) (69 page)

That part was probably a little bit of PR bullshit, Reginald thought. Timken had to know that Karl and Maurice had been involved, but how would it look if the European head were declared a criminal?
 

The election’s votes had been discarded, the news report continued, and the election would be repeated in two weeks’ time after passing a particularly demanding new security screening. Authorities were confident that with the Baskin out of the way, the next election would go smoothly and fairly.
 

Cut to a clip of Timken, who expressed disappointment but remained optimistic about the future of the Vampire Nation and its citizens.
 

“Such pomp and circumstance, don’t you agree?” said a voice.
 

Reginald looked over. It was Timken, who had just entered the holding area through the side door. He strolled across the room beyond the bars of Reginald’s cell wearing a sober and comforting and very human-looking suit. His hair was meticulously combed and every hair was in place.
 

“I don’t like politics,” he said, reaching up and turning off the TV, “but it’s what people understand. It’s what the humans expect. It’s what makes everyone feel quiet and comfortable. And right now, that’s what we need most — comfort. It would be so easy to panic. But I watched your friend Maurice’s last speech as Deacon, which I’m sure you recall word for word with that wonderful brain of yours, and he was totally right. Sometimes, the people need a lie. You’re a smart man, Mr. Baskin. Don’t you agree that given a choice between being bluntly truthful with the Nation about the Ring of Fire and war with the humans and their own precarious position versus being a little deceptive to maintain calm, that ultimately the deception is better?”
 

“You were behind the TGV crashes,” said Reginald.
 

Timken sat on the floor, cross-legged, on the other side of the bars of Reginald’s cell. “Yes.”
 

“To consolidate power for yourself.”
 

“For the vampires of the world.”
 

“For yourself,” Reginald repeated.
 

Timken made a gesture that suggested that Reginald was splitting hairs. “I’m a steward of power. I don’t want it for its own sake, but I need it to do what needs to be done. Barkley was leading us into chaos and blind war and death and, possibly, right back into the sewers. The Paris summit was nice in concept, but it was just more blustering.” Timken made a face that indicated his thoughts on political hot air. “What would have happened? Concessions to stay to ourselves and keep back in the shadows. Groveling, because they were angry and had the upper hand, and we were operating out of desperation.
Politicians
.” He shook his head.
 

“You’re a politician,” said Reginald.
 

“I’m a man who does what needs to be done,” he said.
 

“And what needs to be done?”
 

Timken shifted his weight. “Logic puzzle for you, Reginald. If you could make a choice between the certain death of a few or the likely death of most, which would you choose?”
 

“That’s not a logic puzzle,” said Reginald.
 

Timken smiled, conceding a point won.
 

Realizing that Timken was still waiting for an answer, Reginald said, “I don’t know.”
 

Timken smiled and pointed at Reginald. “See?” he said. “That’s my point exactly. Humans and vampires alike won’t make that decision deliberately, because the only logical way to make it deliberately is to choose to let a few die. You can even do the math and determine,
in an objective way
, which is better. It’s not even close. You
have
to cut your losses. You
have
to triage what you can and let the rest go. The only reasonable thing to do is to sacrifice the few to save the many, but nobody will make that choice. So they make no choice at all, which means that they default to allowing those few to live, and in the process, the inevitable happens and the majority die anyway. How much better off would they have been to choose the hard and unpopular option immediately?”
 

“But what if you’re wrong?” said Reginald.
 

“And that’s the trap. Say there are fifty humans in a forty-man lifeboat. Rather than forcing ten out into the water, everyone hopes that the capacity restrictions will turn out to be wrong, that the boat will defy physics and somehow stay afloat. But it can’t, and all fifty die. Vampires are exactly the same, because in the beginning we were all humans, and at our cores, we still are. But it’s not logical to bet on a small chance, Reginald. It’s not logical to hope for the ten-percent possibility to manifest. You have to make the hard choice, in the interest of the greater good.”
 

“What needs to be done right now?” Reginald repeated. “You took power so you could make the hard decision that others wouldn’t make in order to save us all. Fine. So what’s the decision?” But now that things were clicking, Reginald felt his old scenarios falling back into place. He was pretty sure he already knew the answer, and it scared him.
 

“This needs to become a vampire planet,” said Timken. He shook his head with what looked like heavy regret. “It’s the only way.”
 

Reginald said nothing.
 

“You were
at
the Ring of Fire, Reginald.” Timken’s palms were up. He looked like he was begging. “You
know
what the angels wanted. I hear you even communed inside of their collective mind, the last time you were in Luxembourg. Look, I
like
humans. I was
raised
with humans. I’ve lived with them many times. I have many human friends. But what would you do in my shoes, if you take emotion out of the way and use that great logical mind of yours? Think about it! Would we have lived under Charles? Will we live if we continue to have meetings and summits and bluster and fill out forms? Logically, isn’t this the only way, regrettable as it is?”
 

A sudden, strange thought struck Reginald like a bullet:
He brought me here to recruit me.
Then he realized that that wasn’t quite right. Timken wanted his approval. He wanted Reginald to tell him that he was making the right choice, and doing what was best.
 

“Logically, it might have the greatest chance of success,” said Reginald. “But intuitively, you’re wrong. You can’t determine the angels’ true intentions with logic. I can’t prove it, but I don’t think that this is what they’d want.”
 

“How can it not be? They say that we’ve lost. That the descendants of Cain have been beaten by the descendants of Abel. They say that as long as their chessmen cannot win, they’re willing to tip their king and concede. How can we change their minds other than to start
winning the game?
”

“I don’t know.”
 

Timken shook his head in disgust, then stood. “You’re not using logic. Just like every other stupid person in history, you’re using emotion. And just like every other stupid person, you’d lead everyone to their deaths. This is why I had to do what I did. Because people like you won’t make the decision that needs to be made.”
 

Reginald stood inside of his cell. He felt strangely powerful, but not physically powerful. He wouldn’t be able to overpower Timken or escape, but somehow he was certain that he had the upper hand.
 

“There’s more at play here than logic.” And he thought of angels and visits to the minds of others, and he saw the sparks flying from Claire’s fingertips.
 

“You’re supposed to be the best mind among us,” said Timken, shaking his head.
 

“I am,” said Reginald. “And I’m telling you that you’re wrong.”
 

All at once, Timken’s conservative, composed exterior shattered. An ugly look crawled across his face. The was a blur as he ran to the corner, skipped up the wall, and ripped the television from its mount. It came out in a shower of plaster and dust. With an inarticulate scream, Timken threw the monitor to the floor hard enough to send metal bits skittering to the four walls. The noise, which was the only one in the soundproofed room, was very loud. Then he stood over the destroyed appliance, his hair a mess, his eyes wild, his suit coat unbuttoned and his shoulders rising and falling with his heavy breaths.
 

“Is that what logic looks like?” said Reginald, who’d watched the tantrum with a neutral expression, totally nonplussed.
 

Timken ran a hand over his frazzled hair, smoothing it. Then he buttoned his suit coat, carefully tucking his tie into it.
 

“I’m not wrong. Our species is facing a crisis, and I’m the only chance to save it.”
 

Reginald shook his head. “They won’t let you.”

Timken gave a small chuckle. “They won’t be able to stop us. We’re too strong, too fast, and too intelligent.”
 

“Not the humans. I meant the rest of the Vampire Nation.”
 

This time, Timken actually laughed, then gave Reginald a pitying look. The look said that Reginald was unthinkably naive, and that Timken regretted having to break an unpleasant truth to him.
 

“I think you’re underestimating the power of fear and of denial,” he said.
 

“We’ll see,” said Reginald, thinking of Maurice, of Nikki, of Karl, and of all of the vampires of the world who would, if push came to shove, learn exactly what Timken was up to. They’d kept their mouths shut to avoid war, but once war became inevitable and the humans began to fight back, all bets would be off. Reginald didn’t believe that most vampires would stand back and let it happen. He couldn’t. The thought was too terrible… but still, that logical core within him that Timken so wanted the approval of seemed to think that it might be true.
 

“Yes,” said Timken. “We will.”
 

He pulled a pair of gloves from a shelf and put them on. Then he fished a keychain out of his pocket, found a long-barreled key, and walked forward to slide it into the lock on Reginald’s cell.
 

“What are you doing?” said Reginald.
 

“I’m letting you go.”
 

“Why?”
 

Timken looked up at him, one gloved hand grasping a smooth silver bar.
 
“It’s like I said: it’s not a fair fight if my opponent is behind bars.”
 

“We’ll tell people what you’re doing,” said Reginald. And as soon as he’d said it, he could almost feel Maurice’s fist punching him in the back of the head.
Get away first. Pontificate, ponder, and gloat second.
 

“You’ll try. But you’re the criminal who just tried to rig an election, and I’m the man who believed so much in the future of the Vampire Nation that he saw your value, recognized that everyone makes mistakes, and had the compassion to give you a second chance.”
 

The door opened. Timken stepped aside, waiting. But at first, Reginald couldn’t leave the cell. It was a strange, strange reversal of roles, and one that his mind was actually having trouble processing. Releasing Reginald really would make Timken look better, and keeping him in a cell wouldn’t silence his message. The vampire media, which had newly expanded freedoms that matched those of America’s press, would want to talk to him if Timken kept him, and when they did, Reginald would give them his crazy, conspiracy theorist’s rant.
 

Maybe he should stay. He’d win a moral victory, and he’d at least have value as a martyr.
 

But that was stupid. So he stepped into the main room and looked back at the cell, wondering what had just happened.
 

“You’ll see that I’m right,” said Timken.
 

“You’re not right.”
 

“Yes,” said Timken. “I am. I don’t want us to be adversaries, Reginald. I want you on my side. The right side. The
logical
side. The side that is the only chance our species has of surviving. After you have time to think about this, you’ll see. And when you do, I will be here ready to welcome you aboard. I will be waiting.”

“What you’re doing isn’t helping us,” said Reginald. “It’s dooming us.”
 

Timken shrugged. “Are you sure about that? The way I see it, we have two options. We can fight and maybe survive, or we can do nothing and definitely not survive. You saw the Ring of Fire. You heard the angel. You know that apathy will kill us all. I don’t want to do what needs doing either, Reginald, but I’ll tell you this: I’d take a vampire earth over our extinction.”
 

Reginald didn’t respond for a long time. Finally, meeting Timken’s eyes, he said, “Yes. I’m sure.”
 

Timken nodded and extended a hand. Reginald had a moment of unreality when he realized that Timken wanted him to shake it. Reginald didn’t, and eventually the hand lowered. Timken gave a cordial nod.
 

“I’ll see you on the battlefield,” he said.
 

Then, with no response to give, Reginald walked through the door of the holding area, down a long corridor past at least a dozen checkpoints staffed by red-helmeted soldiers, climbed the steps into the Asbury lobby, and walked out into the cool dark night.
 

N
EXT

THERE WAS NO FURTHER POINT in hiding. Timken had more or less given Reginald full permission to exist, and tacit approval seemed to have been given to Maurice and Nikki as well. So after Reginald found a cyber cafe and Skyped the others to tell them what had happened and what he’d learned, the remaining two American vampires bid Karl and the others goodbye. Karl promised whatever support he could give and said he’d begin seeding word through whatever friendly channels he still had. These were few and far between. The entire vampire world had seen the video and reports on the rigged American election, and the story needed little embellishment or bias to be damning. The truth was damning enough.