Professor Elliot Massey switched on his computer next to the bio-containment cabinet and navigated through his files to find his place. He had saved his work that morning before bed—the vampires insisted they work at night to allow them to oversee the research. Understandable he supposed, but damned inconvenient. He had never slept well during daylight hours.

He found his last entry in the current file and read through it. He nodded as he recalled the negative result and checked the reference number. He didn’t want to waste time going back over old ground.

He took his seat before the level four bio-containment cabinet and pushed his hands into the gloves, forcing his fingers into the clinging rubber and working his hands until he had a proper fit. The samples were in sequence waiting for him to evaluate. He found the last one he had worked with, checking the reference number to be certain, and started work on the next in line.

He adjusted the microscope and laid bare the latest specimen’s secrets. Specimens now? Those poor souls were mere specimens were they? When had they stopped being people to him? He couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened. It had sickened him at first, participating in Arcadian’s mad experiments, but rationalisations and justifications had led him further and further into damnation. The goddess would shun him for betraying his oath this way. Do no harm—it was such a simple oath. Surely, there had been some way he could have kept it, but no, it had been too late the moment Arcadian offered to save Susan’s life.

Treacherous, foolish, hope.

He had allowed himself to become one of the inmates of this madhouse for hope’s sake, and Susan was the key to his cell. Susan and Chani rather. The vampire had kept her word by making Susan her familiar—her human servant. As promised, the process had cured her, but now she and the vampire were bonded. Nothing but death could separate them, trapping him in this evil dream doing Arcadian’s bidding. How far he had fallen. No not fallen. Pushed. Immortality research indeed. The project had never been about immortality. It was nothing but a eugenics program! Knowledge wasn’t evil; research of any kind could be misused, but live human test subjects in the basement of a vampire’s mansion were a big clue that the entire project was evil and illicit.

He sighed, and changed the current sample for the next one in sequence.

There was nothing he could do. He could refuse to continue his work. Jennifer and their colleagues would carry it forward, but at least he could deny Arcadian his skills. It would salve his conscience a little, but he doubted it would materially affect the end result of the project. It might slow it, but stop it? No. He needed to get Susan out of the house, out of Chani’s reach long enough to call the authorities down on Arcadian. The problem was the bond. Chani could find Susan or call her to her side from miles away. Even clear across the city, and there was another problem with calling the authorities in. He couldn’t allow harm to befall Chani. Harm to her was tantamount to harming his daughter—the bond again.

Whatever he did or didn’t do, he needed to protect them both while at the same time ensuring Arcadian’s mad scheme failed.

He pulled one hand out of the cabinet and updated his notes on the last sample on his computer. So far, the current study was proving to be a dead end and he thanked the goddess for it. A way to deliver the modified vampire virus en masse would turn a simple outbreak into a pandemic. He had to get himself and Susan away before his work reached that point.

He patted the pocket of his lab coat, feeling for the contents and mentally counting them. One, two, three... he felt better knowing he had them ready. Not that he had a good plan about what to do if he ever used them, but their presence was reassuring. The pressure syringes contained his one chance to get out of this madhouse and bring his daughter safely out with him. The syringes contained a concoction of drugs he had cobbled together that he was sure could drop a rhino in its tracks let alone a single vampire woman. If he used it on Chani, he had better have a way to contain her. If he didn’t have her tucked safely in a cage when she woke up, he was a dead man.

He made a few more notes on the computer, and went back to work on the next sample.

Had he any pride in this research, he would have been extremely pleased with the team’s progress to date. A lot of the work predated his arrival. Jennifer was responsible for much of that early progress, but the work had progressed by leaps and bounds since he’d joined the team.

Unfortunately.

He was very much afraid that time was running out. He needed to act and soon. They didn’t have a reliable airborne delivery vehicle for the modified virus yet, but VH29C—the latest iteration of the vampire virus and the most successful—was already a viable candidate for the weapon that Arcadian wanted. And it was a weapon no matter the vampire’s demurrals. Why else research an airborne variant if not to weaponise it?

Another notation on his computer, another sample under the scope.

The flu virus he was currently studying belonged to a particularly virulent strain. He had tested and discarded hundreds of variations on the theme now, modifying the horrors found in nature to create something worse. He had never been so relieved when all his attempts had failed.

Another notation, another sample.

He peered into the eyepiece and froze. Oh goddess no... he wasn’t ready! He peered into the eyepiece again hoping he was mistaken, but no, he had it right. This was disaster. His time had run out.

He looked around at his colleagues in the lab. No one was taking notice; they were too busy at their own scopes. He caught Jennifer’s eye and beckoned her over. Puzzlement flashed upon her face, but she rose from her station and came over. He stood to give her access to his scope, and she sat before it. She made some adjustments and studied the current sample. She looked up sharply moments later, and he nodded. They had done it... and doomed themselves. He saw the realisation dawn on her face, and her excitement changed to fear.

He took his place back from Jennifer and removed the sample from his scope, noting the reference number. He read the entry on his computer, and frowned. It was a strain of H9N2, or avian flu, that he had modified. H9N2 was an old enemy of humanity long since conquered, but modified to carry VH29C he had created something entirely new—a virulent airborne plague with no cure. It would kill millions if released. Billions in time, and would change the survivors into something else. This was it, the culmination of their work—Arcadian’s undead plague was a reality.

This was utter disaster. If Arcadian learned of this, he would want to go into full production immediately. The research phase was over, and their usefulness at an end, though only Jennifer and he knew it as yet. He put the sample back into the rack with the others to hide it. Jennifer’s eyes followed it, unable to let it go.

“What do we do?” Jennifer whispered.

“I’ll tell you what we don’t do,” he replied. “We don’t tell anyone. That’s first.”

“And second?”

“We get out of here and call the authorities. They will stop Arcadian. They must.”

“If they don’t, he’ll kill us.”

He nodded grimly. “He’ll kill us anyway. The moment he learns we’ve succeeded, he’ll know he doesn’t need us anymore.”

Fear filled Jennifer’s eyes again. “I wish I’d never heard of Arcadian. I wish I had said no.”

“I did say no, but he wouldn’t take that for my answer. He found a way to compel me. He would have found something for you too. You have family, friends, something to protect. He would have found it.”

Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears. He reached out and rubbed her arm in a poor effort to comfort her. He wasn’t very comfortable with women anymore; Jennifer didn’t hit his radar as a woman most of the time anyway. She would probably be offended by that; she was still good looking despite her being of an age with him, but he had always considered her a colleague first, a friend second, and only then a woman. It probably said something about him that her womanhood came a very distant third in his perceptions. Her abilities and competence as a scientist and researcher had always been more relevant to him.

“We need to talk to the others, but quietly,” he said. “Not all will want to chance leaving.”

“They’re scared.”

“I know. So am I, so are you, but we can’t stay here. Choose carefully who to tell.”

“I know who not to,” Jenifer said grimly. “There are a couple that will inform on us if they think they’ll benefit.”

“I think I know the ones you mean. Just be careful. We have to go tonight.”

“Tonight!”

He nodded. “There are more guards patrolling the grounds during the day.”

“But the vamps are awake now.”

“Exactly. They feel more secure at night. Most of the guards are off shift.”

Jennifer looked doubtful. “There are still a lot of men with guns, Elliot.”

“True, but not as many. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. I’ve counted them. The best time to go is an hour before dawn. The vamps are getting ready to sleep, and the guards are tired. They hand over to the day time guards around then.”

“You really have thought this through.”

He nodded.

She bit her lip. “About your daughter—”

“I have a plan, don’t worry about that. We have to take Chani with us.” Fear flashed upon Jennifer’s face again. “There’s no choice. I won’t leave Susan behind. I’ll deal with the vampire don’t worry. I must if Susan is ever to be free.”

She nodded and hurried away to warn the others. Elliot watched her go and took a deep breath. He needed to collect Susan and enlist her aid in subduing Chani. Susan knew the plan and her part in it. She liked Chani, a lucky thing because the bond was an intimate connection, but she would play her part. He had promised not to hurt the vampire in any permanent manner; an easy promise to make when harming Chani was tantamount to harming Susan. That he would never do.

He patted his pocket and headed for the door leading to the rest of the house in search of his daughter.