The vampires have taken over the world. Our cities lie in ruins and human beings have been reduced to the status of farm animals, with most confined to blood farms where they are regularly drained of their blood to feed their rapacious owners. A few fortunate humans are allowed to serve their new masters in lowly occupations. Such a person is Charles Gray, who serves as a Police Sergeant for the new overlords. He is also searching for his long-lost brother.
However, a band of free humans, calling themselves “The Sons Of Man”, are striking back, attacking the blood farms and freeing the inmates. Gray has been tasked with infiltrating the group so it can be destroyed. However, his loyalties are tested when he finds evidence his brother is involved with the freedom fighters.
But he learns something even more important: the vampires are afraid, very afraid. For it appears the humans may have a very powerful ally—for the Old Gods are returning.
The vampires have taken over the world. Our cities lie in ruins and human beings have been reduced to the status of farm animals, with most confined to blood farms where they are regularly drained of their blood to feed their rapacious owners. A few fortunate humans are allowed to serve their new masters in lowly occupations. Such a person is Charles Gray, who serves as a Police Sergeant for the new overlords. He is also searching for his long-lost brother.
However, a band of free humans, calling themselves “The Sons Of Man”, are striking back, attacking the blood farms and freeing the inmates. Gray has been tasked with infiltrating the group so it can be destroyed. However, his loyalties are tested when he finds evidence his brother is involved with the freedom fighters.
But he learns something even more important: the vampires are afraid, very afraid. For it appears the humans may have a very powerful ally—for the Old Gods are returning.
I was born twenty years after the vampires took over the world. So I don’t remember a world in which the vampires did not rule, although I did, of course, read about those days in school. Those days seemed fantastic then and even more fantastic now. Their rule is so natural, so inevitable, so—now here’s a big word—inexorable, that a world which They do not control feels impossible; no, not impossible—simply not worth talking about. They were made to rule, and that is the way of the universe.
I am not really a user of big words; I’m only a regular guy, although one who got caught up in some pretty crazy events. My Elite Mistress has said I should write it all down before my human memory starts to falter and splutter, and I start to get things mixed up. It must be wonderful to be able to see things from a viewpoint which encompasses centuries, to view the passing of decades the way we see the passing of weeks. I have asked her if she can explain how it feels, but she just smiles, ruffles my hair and says she can’t—there’s no real way to explain time to a shadfly. (I like the way she says the full word, and not just “Shad”, the way many of Them do.)
OK—that’s enough philosophy; what do they call it—meteor physics? Never mind.
So who am I writing this for? Who do I expect to benefit?
Well, I’m assuming you’re like me—a shadfly, a harmless, mouthless bug that comes up from the lake, lays a few eggs and then skedaddles to the great Bughouse In The Sky. You’ve probably heard a lot of dumb things about what happened and gotten completely the wrong idea. Well, that’s over now because I’m going to give you the plain, unvarnished truth. (Have you ever tried varnishing truth?—I haven’t).
OK. Let’s get down to it. My name is Charles Gray and at the time I worked in the Human Division of the State Security Police. I was, and still am, a Sergeant, which is a pretty good position when you realise it’s usually the highest a regular human can reach in the Police Service, although I think there are a few human Lieutenants in the North. It’s a pity Edward and I never agreed about too much so I could have impressed the lunk! I like the uniform, except all that black gets a bit too warm when you’re chasing some low-life. I was about thirty-four/thirty-five at the time and was a reasonably fit, reasonably good-looking guy. (Well, I was under the impression I was a reasonably good-looking guy. A lady Vamp told me that once. And, no, I’m not talking about seductive human women. Or short, introductory passages in Jazz either.) If it wasn’t for my recurrent “idiopathic” anaemia, I’d hit all the bells. But my shots take care of that.
When this particular yarn opens, I was stationed in Flurida, south of where SeaWorld used to be. It’s built over now, of course; the Mistresses aren’t really interested in sea life. Especially octopuses and the like, so I’m told. They don’t use haemoglobin, which is a big No-No as far as Vamps are concerned. (Apparently earthworms are OK, but they’d have to eat a lot of them!)Funnily enough, the town that replaced it is called “Marinetown”: I guess even the Vamps like a bit of nostalgia.
(By the way, I’m sorry if you find the word “Vamp” offensive; normally, I say “Mistress” like they expect. It’s street slang, I know, and They don’t like it, but I’m assuming no, ahem—Vamp—is going to be reading this.)
You may not know much about my area of work, so I’ll quickly explain we were a body of humans entrusted with dealing with other humans—problem humans, if you know what I mean. There have always been people who don’t like the current way of doing things and always will be, I guess. Usually, they’re harmless, and the Vamps simply ignore them, but they sometimes cause trouble. And Vamps don’t like trouble; They like a nice, orderly world where they can get on with their research and find things out about the Universe. I kind of drifted into the job; there isn’t much in the way of interesting work around these days now that all our needs are catered for. And I don’t like troublemakers. When you think about how bad things were before the Vamps took over, I just don’t see what the problem is. I’ve read about the wars that used to happen every couple of years and how stupid we Shads were. Killing each other in thousands with bombs and guns and flamethrowers and nearly ending the whole world. That’s why They moved in, as every guy with a working brain realises. We were fooling around with building killer robots and artificial diseases with one hundred percent mortality, not to mention a zillion different atomic weapons. So when I hear meat-heads talking about the “Good Old Days”, I tell them what kind of world we’d be living in if They hadn’t moved in and taken our toys off of us.
There wouldn’t be a world—just a big pile of radioactive shit with some killer robots nosing around trying to find a survivor or two.
So that’s what They saved us from. Sure, we have to pay for it, but didn’t anyone tell you there’s no such thing as a free lunch? If you disagree with that, you’re not a Noramerican and you can put this book down right now.
(I’ll stop capitalising “They” now—I think you get the picture.)
And I’ll be telling the events from the point of view of the 34/35-year-old Charles Gray, not the grey-haired wreck I am now, so it will unfold before your eyes like a videodrama, with me knowing no more than you. So I won’t be revealing then what I know now. And as you will see, I know a helluva lot more now than I did then. Got it? No? Well hopefully it’ll get clearer. So it was yet another hot, sunny, Fluridian day when I was called into my Police Commissioner Mistress’s office. There was a small woman with short mousey-brown hair sitting in a corner, but I ignored her, assuming she was some kind of secretary. I stood at a respectful distance from my Mistress. I’ve seen her name written down, but I’m not sure how to pronounce it; it looks like “Alicia Aiyana.” As is usual with High-Status Vamps, she was stunning: Ivory skin, eyes of a deep, cruel blue and raven-black hair cascading down her back. I’m not sure how far it goes down her back as I’ve never seen her standing up with her back turned. I’ve also never seen a raven, but from what I’ve read, the word is used to give the impression of a very dark, glossy, shiny sort of black, and that sums up Mistress Aiyana’s hair perfectly. I concentrated on looking at her for three reasons: 1) It’s protocol, 2) I enjoy looking at her and 3) it takes my mind off the great mural on the wall behind her. It’s of a scene I don’t understand. It shows what looks like a ruined church of some kind on top of a hill with a lot of steps going up to it. The whole thing looks slightly sinister. I’ve seen the same mural in other buildings in Marinetown. I don’t know why Vamps like something so simple—but for some reason they do.
I stood to attention, but she smiled and said, ‘At ease, Gray. This may take a while by my standards and I don’t want you to get varicose veins. I might feel the urge to nibble on them.’
I relaxed and waited for her to continue. Most High-Status Vamps don’t have a sense of humour, but Mistress Aiyana does, and that’s one of the many things I like about her.
She leaned back in her cushioned chair and placed slim, vermillion-nailed fingertips together. (I used to wonder then whether the colour was natural. Now I know, of course.)
‘What do you know about the Diodati Institute?’
I thought for a few moments, not wanting to appear ignorant. Then I had it.
‘Blood,’ I said.
She smiled again, with the air of a teacher whose rather slow student had just exceeded expectations.
‘Well done, Gray. The Diodati Institute is involved in the blood business.’ She leaned forward with a mischievous air. ‘Now, for extra credit, tell me exactly how it deals in blood.’
My mind whirled for a moment. The last thing I wanted was to appear dumb in front of Mistress Aiyana. What was the correct phrase?
‘It’s a bioresearch centre,’ I said, feeling just like an eager puppy must feel, ‘it’s all to do with…’
A carmine-tipped finger was raised to stop me.
‘Slow down, Gray. Could you remind Cadet Serafina here,’—she nodded at the silent young woman in the corner—‘how things used to be, before the Takeover, that is.’
I gave the woman I now knew to be Serafina a quick glance. She stared back at me with dull cow eyes. I dismissed her. She was unimportant. Pleasing Mistress Aiyana was what mattered.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘as everyone knows, before the Takeover, vamp—I mean Masters and Mistresses—had to rely on taking human blood whenever and wherever they could get it. It was a very demeaning lifestyle and meant the natural rulers were always few compared to us. Finally, when the stupidity of us humans threatened all life on the planet, you were forced to intervene and take over the world’s governments. But you needed more blood than the human population of the time could supply in order to support a much larger population of Masters and Mistresses.’
(‘Just call us the Elite,’ Aiyana purred, ‘it’s much quicker.’)
I dipped my head briefly to show I had accepted the admonition and continued, ‘So your people devised a way to produce large quantities of human blood on demand. And that’s why you have places like the Diodati Institute.’
‘That will do for the time being,’ Aiyana said briskly. She glanced at Serafina. ‘You understand this?’
Serafina gave a quick nod. ‘Perfectly. It is like wine used to be in the old days; the Grand cru is produced by the Blood Farms, the Vin ordinaire by factories like Diodati.’
I began to speak again, but Serafina cut me off.
‘I understand why the Diodati Institute is so important, Mistress, but why is this Police Division involved? We Originals have no use for its products.’
I cursed inwardly. Damn! This woman is sharp! Why didn’t I ask that?
I sent a hostile glance her way but, if she noticed it, she did not allow it to register. To add to my irritation, Aiyana rewarded her with a broad smile.
I couldn’t help but notice her superbly sharp canines as her lips parted and I must confess that even after years of close contact with Vamps it still gives me a brief shudder. (One I hope is not visible from the outside!) It must be what a gerbil feels when it realises it’s sharing a room with the family cat.
‘An excellent question, Serafina,’ she said. ‘Looks like Vampire Resources have sent us a promising young Cadet.’ She looked at me briefly as if to say Not like you Old Timers! and then continued, ‘Work on the vats is very mundane and undemanding. Even a human can do it. But of course, much of the work is automatic. In fact, all of the work could be automatic, but we of the Elite have discovered your people must have something to occupy their time, some sense of accomplishment. I believe you call it Making A Difference. And so we deliberately hold back from automating everything in this society of ours. That introduces a degree of unnecessary inefficiency, which in turn requires us to administer the necessary chastisements to those who fall below the expected standards, but in the long run it is to the advantage of both species.’
Serafina nodded again.
‘Thank you, Mistress. A most lucid explanation.’
Aiyana immediately shed her air of gentle camaraderie and, leaning back, said, ‘So now I want you two to go over to the Institute and see why they have sent me some troubling reports. It appears,’ and she smiled, ‘they have run into something they don’t understand. I’m sure it’s too trivial to waste Elite time on, but I think I can spare your rather less precious time on it.’
Eager to wrest the initiative from Serafina, I said, ‘And what exactly were in those…’
I stopped. Aiyana had turned away but, at my words, returned to look me in the eye. One immaculately tailored eyebrow lifted itself, slightly furrowing the alabaster forehead.
‘Are you still here?’
We went.
Outside of the Police Building, the heat smashed down onto me like a sledgehammer. I turned to comment on that fact to my companion, only to find her several steps behind me and shading her eyes.
‘Is it always so goddamn bright here?’ she said in a peevish tone.
‘Well, this is Flurida,’ I began and then I picked up on her accent, which, now I was out of Mistress Aiyana’s penetrating gaze, I was enough in control of myself enough to notice. ‘Say you’re not from around here, are you? Where you from: Somewhere up North?’
‘Vancouver,’ she said, lowering the palm from her eye level and looking up at me.
I smiled: Something in common at last!
‘Hey, I got people in Seattle! That’s not far from Vancouver, is it?’
She looked at me pityingly.
‘Not Vancouver near Seattle. I’m a smidgeon further north: Vancouver in what used to be called Granada.’
It was my turn to give a pitying look. I may not be the sharpest flesh-piercer in the Killer Robot armoury, but I knew “Granada” wasn’t right. I might not know the exact name; I know it ends in “-ada”, but at least I was aware of my ignorance.
I made another attempt to establish rapport, as befits two officers on the same case.
‘I don’t even know your full name—I’m Charles Gray.’
‘I know,’ she said in a flat, uninterested voice. ‘Mistress Aiyana told me before you came in.’ She made an attempt at a smile and extended a white hand. I held it briefly, surprised by its coldness; it seemed she had brought a little of the Northern climate down with her. ‘I’m Serafina—Serafina Ginevra.’
I stopped for a moment on the busy sidewalk, causing pedestrians to flow around me like a river around a rock.
‘Serafina Ginevra,’ I said in wonderment. ‘What a beautiful name. What is it—Mex?’
She managed a real smile at my praise.
‘No, Italian. I don’t know what “Serafina” means, but “Ginevra” is “White Phantom.”’
I was really impressed. How is it foreign names always sound so mysterious while I’m stuck with “Charles Gray”?
I was still puzzling over that issue when Serafina touched me on the shoulder to remind me we were on a mission and not beginning a Three Year Course on Comparative Linguistics.
Anyway, we walked to the Motor Pool, booked a car out and I nosed out into the heavy Marinetown traffic, heading for the Diodati Institute on the other side of town.
No Truce With The Vampires: Those Who Sleep gives an intriguing view of a world where humans are nothing more than food sources for the vampires who have taken control of everything. Very few humans hold down a job, but even those were graciously given out by the vampire. Charles Gray is one such human. He is a police sergeant for the overlords.
Part of his job as police sergeant has been to infiltrate the The Sons of Man, a group of humans tired of their subjugation. The group seeks to overthrow the vamps and regain their freedom. This doesn’t sit well with the vampires who need compliant humans so they can continue to have an easy food source, so Charles must help destroy this radical group.
While keeping up with his duties, Charles has also been looking for his long-lost brother. His loyalty to the vampires is tested when he discovers his brother is involved with The Sons of Man. However, he also learns that the humans have a surprise ally in the Old Gods. The vampires are scared of them, so surely the Old Gods can help return the world to the humans.
Martyn Vaughan has once again demonstrated an extreme sense of creativity with this latest book. Readers are treated to a more personal view of the story as it’s told by Charles and from his experiences in this new type of world. He’s neither some super genius trying to solve the world’s problems, nor is he the chosen one picked by fate because he’s an absolute standout. Charles is simply an average human being hoping to live out his life peacefully.
Vaughan also expertly develops more twists and turns into the book that pop up as Charles learns maybe a peaceful life isn’t as possible as he thought. These twists and new mysteries are woven into the story so they come as a unique surprise as the story unfolds. Not only is Charles unaware of what’s to come, but so is the reader. Readers also only get a peek into this vampire-run world, but it’s an intriguing twist on a supernatural being that usually operates from the shadows.
If you’ve been looking for a vampire book that’s different from the rest, this is the one to pick up! It’s a breath of fresh air for the vampire genre while also exploring beyond just the blood-thirsty creatures.