Kindred: In the future

by Maryland Rose

The dying Cameron is visited by Julian's spirit

Kindred: In the future

Stardate 2544

Julian Luna stood very still against the wall. With his hands chained behind him and a blindfold over his eyes, he waited, with a gentle smile, for the shots that would end his life.

Cameron looked at him, and thought of how long it had taken to get there. He thought of other things.

Julian spoke: "Cameron, don't you have a home to go back to?"

Cameron stared, surprised.

"Everyone else has gone home long ago. They have business to attend to. They have loved ones to be with, they have interests, hobbies, they have a million things to do." Julian stepped away from the wall, bringing his hands forward and removing his blindfold. "Have you none of those things? Why are you still here?"

"I have a life, Julian. You don't have to concern yourself with me. At this time I am busier than I care to be. I have not thought about you for years."

"Then why are you here?"

"I am dreaming. You got to dream of something, and now I am dreaming of you. Why I do not know."

"This is not just a dream. You have called me."

"Why should I do that? You are a part of my life that is done with."

"Maybe you need to tell me something."

"Like that I am sorry for what I did to you? Apologize, beg forgiveness? Not a chance."

"Then why?" Julian's expression was still gentle as he approached Cameron. "There is a reason you are here."

"Look, I know that I screwed up badly. But I paid for it. With interest. You got blown away once. I got blown away ten times in the war. Plus ten times afterwards. I am not going to ask you how it feels to have your body torn apart by bullets, because I know. Let me tell you what happens afterwards, when the Kindred medic finds you. As long as they can put your pieces in one heap and you got some of your throat left you can be brought back. They shove this funnel into what is left of your gullet and pour the blood in. Then you start to heal. And that is when you learn what real pain is. When you start hollering that's when they know that you are going to make it. So they ship you back to the front, where you can get shot at again. I went through that twenty times. Not to mention minor wounds, burnings, forced starvation, and other pleasant adventures. So I figure that I don't owe anything anymore."

"Has it been that bad, then?"

"When I die I go to Heaven/'cause I done my time in Hell." That's what the grunts sang in the war. I sang it too. The Kindred grunts also learned to swear by the sword of Duncan McLeod. "By the sword of Duncan McLeod/By the clean swift stroke that sets us free." You know what your friend MacLeod used the sword for. Beheading. That was what the grunts asked for. Not to be brought back, not to have that damned funnel shoved down their throats again. That was what the war was like."

"And you have nothing to tell me?" Julian sat close to Cameron..

"I told you, no apologies. I did what I did. I made my bed and I am willing to lie on it. Saying that I am sorry will not change anything, so I won't. There is no point in you dragging me back here."

"I did not call you, you called me."

"Why would I do that?"

"I do not know, but you must have a reason."

"What could that be?"

"Again I do not know, but you have one, and you will realize what it is. When you do, you will call me again."

"Call you again? What for? You and I are done. Ancient History. You are Saint Julian, and I am Cameron the Devil."

"You could not have called me without some strong feeling. What it is I do not know, but as long as you harbor it, you have the power to call on me. For some reason you needed to see me again, and that need is still in you. Maybe next time we meet you will know what your need is."

"I hope that there is no next time."

0

Four days later

This time Julian was wearing a suit, and was straddling a folding chair, his arms resting on its back, and his chin over the arms. But the setting was still Manzanita, where their story had begun, and where it had ended.

There was a stream of water running behind Julian, one that he did not remember had been there.

"So you are back." Julian said softly. "Do you know your reason?"

Cameron nodded. "I know it. I would not ask this if I was not desperate."

"Yes, you are too proud to ask anything of me otherwise."

"I have to know something. That day, when you were shot, you spoke to me, remember?"

"Yes, did you take my advice?"

"I did. Took me a while, but I did. I saw something in your eyes. Something that enraged me to see in you."

"What did you see in my eyes?"

"Compassion." Cameron closed his eyes, remembering. "I raged at that. What right did you have to be sorry for me? What did you know that I didn't? There you were, bound hand and foot, ready to have your head blown off, and you let me know that I had lost, was that it? Was that your way of announcing your victory?"

"Perhaps. I knew the way the game was going. I knew you would fall hard, and that you would have a tough time putting your life back together. I did feel compassion for you."

"Is that compassion still there? Can I lay claim to it now? If not for me, then for Commander Svetlana Vyshinskaya. For Earth itself, who will need her in the coming war?"

"What do you need?"

"You see that water there? You know what it means?"

"That's the water we all have to cross to get to the other shore. You are dying, Cameron."

"Yes. And I need your help. No, not to take me across. To keep me here until Vyshinskaya is rescued."

"Tell me the whole story."

"Vyshinskaya and I are the only survivors in our ship after a surprise attack. We are waiting rescue. She was badly injured in the attack and there was only one way that I could save her."

"You embraced her."

"Yes. My orders were to keep her alive and able to fight the war. I have done so. But now I may fail. The medical supplies were destroyed. There is only one source of blood for Vyshinkaya available now, and you are looking at it."

"And your own source of blood?"

"None whatsoever. She is killing me, that is why the water is here. But I cannot die. Not until she is delivered to safety. I need to stay alive to feed her. I know that there is a ship with Kindred medics that will reach us in seven days. I need to last until then. Can you help me?"

"To keep you alive that long your body would have to feed on itself."

"Can you do it?"

"It would be very painful."

"I know pain. Can it be done?"

"You are asking me to torture you."

"Damn it, don't you understand English? What I want to know is if you can do it. I know that I am going to hurt. And that's exactly what I want you to do. I killed you, I tried to destroy everything you loved. I would not even let you have a clean shirt. So make me pay. I also killed Cash. I helped kill Duncan McLeod. Punish me. Make me scream day after day. Deny me the peace of death. Just keep Vyshinskaya fed until she is rescued. I am all yours to torture for seven days. Can you help Vyshinskaya?"

"I can. And I can mute the pain so that you are not aware of it for long stretches of time."

"So you will do it?"

"I am honored to do it."

The First day.

Julian sat at a table and invited Cameron to sit in front of him.

Cameron sat down. "What do we do now?"

"While you are here with me, you will not be aware of your pain. And you will not scream, so that Vyshinskaya will not be upset. We will pass the time, and we will talk. Some topics will be off limits. We cannot discuss what is at the other shore, for if we do, you may make the transition. I will tell you when you are approaching the danger zone. Except that, we can talk of anything you like. Unfotunately, there is only so much time you can stay here for each day, I will try to stretch is as much as possible, but still you will have to go back to your body and your pain for longer than you might want to."

"Any amount of pain that I do not feel is good news. How do we pass the time?"

"We can start with a game. Chess?"

"If I have a guarantee that it won't turn into checkers as soon as you start losing."

Julian smiled. "So that story got around to you."

"Everyone has heard it now. That you won because in checkers the King is expendable. I would rather play checkers outright than have you pull that trick on me a second time."

"I will beat you at checkers every time. Can you handle that? Or would you rather try backgammon?"

"I am a decent enough backgammon player. How about you?"

"Decent enough, too."

"Then backgammon it is. I guess you cannot round up a couple more for a card game. Maybe get your friend MacLeod over here."

"Out of limits topic, Cameron."

"All right. Let's keep it to two players games. You want to go first?"

"Yes."

They played a couple of rounds. The pieces moved around the board, and both watched them with polite interest.

"How long were you left at Bates Motel?" Julian asked.

"Three hundred years...look, this is not the 'tell me about yourself' part of the death vigil to bring me across, is it?"

"No, it is not. I gave you my word that I will keep you from crossing over until Vyshinskaya no longer needs your blood. I will keep it."

"Yes, your word was always good. All right. I stuck it there three hundred years, and would have stayed longer, if it had not been for the war."

"Was it tough?"

"At first. The first twenty years were the worst. I raged at my fate, and could not let go of the past. But there is a home truth that I discovered, and that is that if you beat your head on the wall long enough, eventually you figure out that all you are getting is a headache. One day I decided to stop acting like a jerk."

"Was it gradual, or did you just have an illumination?"

"Actually it was an illumination. We had watched this TV show, and I had said that it was the most depressing thing I had ever seen, how these people struggled to get somewhere, and they ended up with nothing. My date said that she expected no different because these people had made a basic mistake: they had put their lives on hold until the one event they pinned their hopes on happened. She said that either way they lost. If they got what they wanted, they had nothing further to hope for. If they didn't they were frustrated and would continue not living, waiting for an event that would never happen. I started to argue, but then I saw that I was in the boat as those people. I too had put my life on hold, waiting for something that would never happen. I decided that it was about time I got myself a life. And I did."

"How did you do it?"

"I had myself a little ceremony. I got together all the reminders I had of that time. The papers I burned, one by one. Then there were other things, mementos of my days of glory, I called them. The gold pens that I had inherited from Eddie Fiori, the cigar case that was given to me as a gift by the San Francisco Brujah in appreciation, things like that. Also the shackles I had put on you."

"Did you keep those?"

"Yes. There was a time that I actually looked at them every day, to remind myself of my greatest triumph. Anyway, I took them all to a pawn shop and I got a good price for them. I also used the old Brujah trick, putting him under long enough for him to give me a couple more bills by mistake. I took the money and went to a card game. I sat down and did not get up until I had lost every cent that the pawnshop gave me. Then I got up and went home. In the way I stopped to get myself a split of champagne. I stopped my car in the middle of a bridge and stood there, looking at the water. I tore out the pawn ticket and threw it over the side. Then I filled two cups with the champagne. One for me and one for you. And I made a little speech to get you to stop haunting me."

"You were haunting yourself."

"Of course. It was a nice speech, considering my mental state at the time. It went something like that: 'Julian Luna, you beat me fair and square. This is your world now, and if there is to be a place for me in it, I must make it for myself. Tomorrow is going to be the first day of the rest of my life, and I will not have room for you. So peace to you, and peace to me. And goodbye.' I drank my cup and poured yours over the side. Then I threw the cups and the bottle into the trash and went home. The next day I went to the pawnbroker to return the bills he had given me by mistake, and came back to rebuild my life."

"What did you do?"

"I used the computer chat rooms to enlarge my circle of acquaintances. I figured out that no matter what the business did the Brujah would not let it go under so I let it run itself. I decided that since there were no Kindred around to have a social life with, I would look to humans for friends. I took up painting, and got to be quite decent at it. I joined a folk dance troupe. I helped in political campaigns, just basic stuff, standing in corners with signs, helping drive people to the polls. Registering voters."

"Did you run registration drives in the cemetery?"

"Doesn't everybody? Helped out too with a couple local charities. Rented the conference rooms of the motel for fundraisers. They got to be popular, and before I knew I was making a modest profit. I also showed my paintings along with those of other artists in the motel every other Sunday, and people came from a distance to watch them. More profit for the motel. Ten years afterwards I was moved to another motel, because I was not looking any older and people would notice. The other motel got the same treatment, and the Brujah thought more kindly of me by then. Then I was moved to other motels as time kept passing. I learned how to conduct death vigils, helping the terminally ill make the passage. There was a problem at first with the people keeping an eye on me (I knew that I was being watched. They monitored my e-mail as well as my phone calls and regular mail). They wanted to deny me the right to learn death vigils, but I asked if I had done anything to deserve it that they should charge me, and if they did not, they should not harass me. They backed down. You see, I had an assumed name, and there was no record of wrongdoing under that name. If they wanted to try me, it would be for acts committed as Cameron, which nobody wanted to do."

"And so you learned how to conduct death vigils, then? Are you any good?"

"Quite good. And I got better in the war, regrettably. I saw too many wounded that I could not save (or rather thought more humane not to save), and all I could do was ease their passage. I was taught by a Torreador woman who said that you had trained her. When I tried to pay her she refused to take my money. She said that I hoped that I would find the peace I was seeking for, and that she did not believe in eternal damnation. I did not know what she meant, then it hit me. If she had been trained by you and counted herself as a friend she must have been at your execution. She had recognized me. It was her way of telling me that she had forgiven me. I ran after her, to scream that I did not want her charity, but she was gone. At first I was sore but then I started doing the vigils, and they were very soothing. As my teacher told me, you do it for them, but also for yourself."

"Yes, that is true. Did you ever see the Angel of Death?"

"I was never that selfless. Did you?"

"Once. When I helped out Frank Kohanek. But it is hard to be selfless when you are getting so much psychological lift out of it."

"So I had a decent life at the motel. I called myself Mr. Norman. Joke on Norman Bates. I never went over the edge. I never put on a woman's dress or stabbed anyone in the shower. And I missed the great upheaval when the Brujah bosses lost their power. Who would have thought that ordinary Brujah would actually ask for protection against their Primogens, and receive it? That they would demand the right to elect them instead of waiting for the gun battles that would settle the succession?

"I thought of it. That was why I set up the Tribunals independent of the power of the Prince and the Primogens. And the upheaval was not just the Brujah. There was a sizeable number of nasty Torreador and Gangrel bosses who were due to be ousted. Even a few nasty Ventrue, I regret to say. Being a son-of-bitch has nothing to do with what clan you belong to."

"Yeah, your checker game got all of them in the end."

"And how is this for irony? My own execution demonstrated that no matter how highly placed you are, you can still be brought low through a court of law. If I could be held accountable, then any boss who was a son-of-bitch could be. And they were."

"You are one Hell of a games player. Sometimes I think you manipulated me into it. When I think how easily the pieces fell in place afterwards, and things arranged the way you had planned, and how pivotal your death was to the whole process, I think that you planned it ahead. Did you? Did your trick me into it?"

"No. I knew it was a possibility when I made you a judge. I made contingency plans for it, as I made contingency plans for any other moves you might make. I did not expect it to happen so soon, but I had plans for it."

"And you did not mind dying if that would carry out your plans. I underestimated your death wish."

"You thought you could make me break my own law. It was a smart move. There was only one way to counter it. How did you come up with the idea of a firing squad? Because that was a dumb move."

"Well, I wanted to smash that face of yours. Destroy it. Beheading is too clean. You clean the parts, align the head and the body, wrap a scarf around the neck, and the corpse looks as good as new. I wanted to make it ugly."

"Yes, that was what I thought. But you forgot that there is a romantic appeal to firing squads. I never could understand why, but I knew it was there. I knew that I could use it to take control of the scene. Up to the moment the triggers were pulled it was my show, didn't you notice?"

"I realized it when I saw you wearing that clean shirt. Every move you made added to your legend. It created the iconography of Saint Julian, martyr. You wiped me out of the board utterly, and the worst part is that I helped you do it."

"It had to be done. I knew where my plans were going. After you made your move there was a clear path across the board with only two obstacles in the way. One was you, and the other was me. I got rid of both."

"You are a brutal player. Remind me never to play checkers against you, ever."

"Just backgammon. And I won this game. Want to play another?"

They set up the table again. After a few moves Cameron continued his story.

"In any case, when all the mob bosses lost their power and became pathetic figures, living in the past, I was thriving in my motel. I had not fallen from power, since I had no power to lose. I might never be called back, but there was no "back" anymore to be called to. I could be the center of my own little circle. Ordinary Brujah were quite friendly with me and I helped a number of them start business of their own. Kindred no longer had to kowtow to brutal bosses for protection against other clans, and the business decisions no longer were made at the pleasure of the Primogens. As long as it was legal, any Kindred could go into business without fear. There were even Brujah-Gangrel joint ventures. My business thrived there, and so did I. I even ran across Sasha once."

"How was she doing?"

"She was busy. She was doing in large scale what I was doing in small scale, underwriting small Kindred businesses. She was cordial enough, but I understood the rules. No one must know my real name. Some subjects were not to be discussed. And the Brujah would never call me back, not that that mattered anymore. I understood her view of me. She was willing to be pleasant to Mr. Norman. But if I reminded her of my real name she would be forced to treat me like the scum I am. Still, Sasha was impressed with what I had been able to accomplish, and had we known each other in different circumstances, I would have invited her to my room."

They played several moves before Julian spoke again. "Then you were doing all right."

"You changed our world, Julian. Not that I admitted it. You were an obsession with me the first twenty years. When I decided to get myself a life I forced myself to keep you out of my thoughts. I did not always managed it, but I knew enough not to encourage my obsession. Obsession is a trap, and I wanted to escape it. For most of the time I did not think of you again until I was mobilized. I had achieved a good life, and I did not want to jeopardize by stirring up any old hatreds. It took mental discipline, but I made myself focus into what was important to me. In the end, I was as happy as I have ever been. Then it all changed."

"The war came."

"The war came and I was drafted. They were desperate and could not spare anyone, so I was off to war."

"Where you got blown away ten times and put together again ten times."

"Yes." "And when the war ended, did you get back to the motel?"

"I was never demobilized. I got to be too good at the jobs they gave me, so they kept me. There were a lot of skirmishes since the war, and I have been busy. I also got blown up ten more times that way, though I am now given enough time to recuperate before they sent me to the next mission. That is how I know that there is another war coming and I am helping them get ready. Commander Vyshinskaya is of vital importance to the coming war. I was entrusted with her safety, whatever the cost. And I am delivering her. With your help."

"These wars...where do the enemy came from?"

"The first war came from our nearest galaxy neighbors. They are our allies now. The next ones are from the other end of the galaxy, and they scare the Hell out of every sentient race in this sector. Our former enemies became staunch allies, that's how afraid they are of these new guys."

"So now that there is peace on Earth, and peace within the Kindred, war comes upon us from beyond the stars. Is there no end to it?"

"Don't you know? I would think that you'd have better sources of information. Or don't you get newspapers in the other shore?"

"Out of bounds, Cameron."

"You do not know anything about the future then?"

"Out of bounds."

"All right." Cameron made his move. "Seems I have beaten you."

"Do you want to play again?"

"Yes."

Second day

"I have a problem with Vyshinkaya." Cameron said as he sat down to the backgammon game.

"What is it?" "She tried to pull rank on me. I don't have enough bars on my shoulders to command her anything."

"Did you use your authority as her sire?"

"I let her have all of it. But I am weak. In the end she gave in. It may be more to my claiming to have experience that she lacks, and that she should defer to me as the expert."

"That's a new one." Julian agreed. "I do not recall hearing of that situation before."

"Well, that's what happens when you start embracing in the military. You get tangled up in the chain of command, and believe me, the military eats, breathes, and lives the chain of command. Who you are, what you are, is on your shoulders."

"Yes, there are always complications."

Cameron laughed. "I would love to see her tangling with Caitlin. Caitlin does not have enough bars on her shoulders, either. And she will have kittens when she has this newborn Kindred, whose sire is dead, (and disgraced on top of it), giving her lip. I would love to be there and watch the fireworks."

"What do you think will happen?"

"First, they will send each other to the brig. Then you will have a small nuclear explosion. Vyshinskaya is tough, and so is Caitlin. Eventually they will reach an agreement, and might even become friends. But for the first days, watch out!"

"What is your relationship with Caitlin?" there was more than a bit of jealousy in Julian's words. So, Cameron thought, he had not let go of all worldly concerns.

"She is my superior officer. She is every Kindred's superior officer. She has grown a lot since she was that reporter you used to love."

"I never stopped loving her." and this time there was a ghost of pain in Julian's voice.

"You should have never been the one to embrace her. You should have asked one of your friends to do it."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because when you embraced her, she became your daughter, not your lover. Face it, embracing produces a father-children relationship. Sire comes from father. And the point of those relationship is that your children move away and have children of their own. Do you know how many lovers I lost because of that before I figured it out? Never embrace the one you love by yourself, that should be the first rule."

"It also had a lot to do with my personality. There were things about me that irritated her, and that she tried to tolerate, but could not."

"I know. She told me. When she called because the war had started we had an awkward moment. I knew that they had called me because they were desperate and they could not spare one single Kindred, even a notorious, disgraced one as myself. I tried to make a reference to ... what happened here, to learn what was allowed and what was not. She cut me short. She had no time nor patience for trips down memory lane, for long moans of regret, and exercises on "what if". She said that it drove her crazy when you did it, but that she tried to put up with it because she loved you. Since she did not love me, if I ever did it she would toss my ass into the brig. So I kept my mouth shut, and got along fine with her."

"Tell me about what she did in the war."

"She coordinated the victory. She may have saved the Earth all by herself. She found out about the aliens attacking our troops. She also found out that they had superior technology and firepower. We were outmatched. And the Earth military followed the Colin Powell school of not getting into a fight unless you are more powerful than your opponent. Which in this case meant never."

"I see, they had lost the skills to fight when they were outgunned or outmanned."

"Caitlin found those who could teach the military that which they had forgotten. He retrieved fighters from the Irish Republican Army, Maroons from the Caribbean, who had defended their settlements against the Dutch slavers, refugees from the Warsaw Ghetto uprising, slaves from Spartacus' army, Afghanistanis who had fought off the Russian invaders. Vietnamese guerrillas. Anyone in history that had once gone against a more powerful enemy and learned how to fight back, to make do, to put up a defense with spit and chicken wire. She got them all and sent them to train the troops and the officers. And that is how we won the war, because Caitlin retrieved all these people from cold storage. She also asked the Immortals to send any people with the right experience."

"And she retrieved you too."

"Yes. She could not spare anyone. And my skills were useful too. She kept me hopping from danger zone to danger zone, and in the end put me in Intelligence. And I have been there ever since, and always in danger of getting blown away with depressing regularity. Either I am really good at this stuff, or she enjoys putting me in harm's way."

"So that's what Kindred are." Julian mused. "cold storage for humanity's skills."

"Don't you know? I thought that by now you'd have found out why Kindred and why Immortals."

"Out of bounds, Cameron."

"Yes...But that is right. Kindred are a cold storage facility. So are the Immortals. Humanity learns new skills, comes up with new inventions all the time, but they also forget many things. Do you remember back at the end of the twentieth century how the calculators were making people lose basic math skills? They no longer knew how to do sums in their heads because they just used their little machine? Well, there are always Kindred around, and there are always Immortals who remember the old ways, and can use them. And when the skills are needed again they come forward."

"It makes sense. We are mankind's memory, stored into two modules. Two redundant modules for safety: Kindred and Immortals."

"When Caitlin was sending us off she told us that the Kindred would start paying, with interest, for every drop of blood they had taken over the centuries."

"She said that?"

"She said and we did. We saved the Earth from invasion. And we got hurt a lot in the process. But it was worth it."

"Do you have any other theories about Kindred and Immortals?"

"They both have built-in checks against their trying to take over normal humans. Immortals are caught in their combats for the prize, so they don't have much of a chance to get themselves together and try to take over the world. And Kindred have the need for blood, which makes them dependent on humans. And there has to be much less Kindred than humans to keep the Kindred well fed. Kindred can invite persecution by humans, and thus they have to be careful in their dealings with them. And Kindred remember where they came from. All these factors combine to keep them lying low. When Kindred forgot about it, it brought about the persecutions. Am I right?"

"It is an interesting theory."

"But is it out of bounds for me to ask if you know whether it is right or not?"

"Out of bounds, again."

"Yes, and we better change our topic because I can see the other shore become cleared, and I have to get through five more days of this. "

"What would you talk about?"

"I think that I will concentrate on the game for a while."

Cameron set up the board again. "Julian, I appreciate what you are doing here, for me. Just to be free of the pain here, to be back to myself, makes it bearable. It is a struggle not to scream when I am back in my body and Vyshinskaya comes to feed. I can hold it only for so long, because I cannot let her know how badly off I am. I have to be able to carry on conversations with her even if I am in too much pain to think. Fortunately, I am in too bad a shape to fly the ship, so I have her running the whole place and she has to leave me alone most of the time. I can scream when I know she is out of earshot."

"This is what I agreed I would do."

"And I am grateful to you for that. And that you do it for me, who was never your friend, who did all those horrible things..."

"You never asked anything for yourself, except the chance to do your duty. It is a brave and noble deed you are doing, and I am proud to help you carry it out."

The third day.

Cameron sighed as he sat down. "I lost it. I completely lost control with her. I was in too much pain to think straight and I let her have it."

"What did you do?"

"Holler at her. Tell her a few home truths. Mind you, we are discussing standard questions as to being Kindred. She makes a comment that she does not want to live by killing people, that she does not want to choose who lives or dies."

"And did you tell her that she does not have to kill at all? That Kindred are supposed not to kill those they feed upon?"

"No. I yelled to her that if she felt that way what the fuck was she doing in the military high command. I asked her if she knew that when she deployed troops, and moved them around the map, and ordered attacks, and spoke of kill ratios, and acceptable casualty rates, she was speaking about people. I told her that not a single one of the medals of her chest had been gained without people dying for them. Or getting blown to bits and not dying like me. I told her that I was the cannon fodder that she built her career on, and that she should not get high and mighty with me."

"Whew...that was losing it, all right."

"I should not have done it. But she is top brass, and top brass do not think that troops are people. They are toys, puppets that can be broken and replaced. I spent most of the big war in the front lines, and I know how it feels. And when I hear top brass discuss troop movements I want to shake them and tell them that these are not toys. That they are as much people as themselves. That they have a right to live, a right to hope, that there is a better reason for them to exist than to stop bullets with their bodies."

"So you told her your home truths."

"It is about time she heard them. Someone has to speak for the grunt, for the cannon fodder. Someone has to tell them that what they are doing is not right. That they are becoming monsters and they do not know it. Do you know how hard it was to get weekend passes for men at the front, how hard to get them extended leave, or just to let them rest a couple more days in the hospital. I had enough power to do it, and it was still damned hard. I helped them as I could, human, Kindred, or Immortal. And there was only so much that I could do. Someone has to speak up for them."

"And that someone is you."

"I have been blown away ten times in the war, fixed up ten times, shipped back into harm's way ten times before I finished healing. I have been blown away ten more times in the half-peace that followed. I am as good a spokesman as you can get. I know that when the Kindred's greatest hope is the sword of Duncan McLeod something is very wrong."

"Yes, it is very wrong."

"I know, it is the war's fault. You have wars, and you end up in situation like this. That is another home truth...Do you know the speech we give to new Kindred who still worry about being damned? That the evil or good they do is their choice?"

"Yes. That is a basic truth about Kindred, as well as humans or Immortals."

"Well, the next basic truth is that war strips the choices from you. Or that the choices it gives you are all bad ones."

"I knew it for a long time. Why do you think I hated the clan wars so much? Why else did I fight so hard for peace?"

"Yes. You knew it back then. War makes good people do terrible things."

"When you are at war and have to live with terrible choices is hard to keep your center. You just have to remind yourself that life is not supposed to be like that. You can fight the pull towards evil that war exerts on you. And you must be able to forgive yourself when you fail. And never take on more guilt that what is rightfully yours."

"Some of the Kindred did terrible things in the war, when they were cut off and starving. Or when the combat stress got too bad for them. But terrible things were done to them, too. They envied the human grunts who could die only once, or when they got wounded they got disabled and sent back home because they could no longer fight. There was no such escape for Kindred."

"What you describe is horrible."

"It broke Sonny's heart. I met him in one of my missions. He recognized me and invited me over to where he sat, in the bar. He was the only one of them who was willing to acknowledge my real name. He asked me how could he find something to live for, and what do you do when the fight is taken out of you. He spoke of you, and said that it would kill you to see what Kindred had come to, what the war was doing to all of us. You had not fought and died, he said, so that the Kindred's best hope should be the sword of Duncan MacLeod. I tried to tell him that the war must end someday, and that Kindred would heal. I did not believe it myself, but I had to hope for it. I had to hope that there was more in the future than getting blown to bits, and getting patched up on the way to the front, over and over again. And I told him what I knew, that even when you have no reason for living you make yourself go through the motions, because the moment comes when you want to live again. He thanked me and went back to his cabin. Then we were attacked and I was blown to bits for the sixth time. He was blown to bits, too, only his section caught fire. They could not bring him back."

"I know."

"You met him, I suppose."

"Out of bounds, Cameron." Julian said, but he nodded.

"He felt for the grunts at the front, and it tore at him that he could do nothing, just the little bit of help that I was doing, too. Caitlin...Caitlin had begun to get callous, the way the top brass does. She was on her way of becoming a monster, the way all top brass are. We had a showdown, she and I and that was the one and only time that I mentioned your name. She threw me in the brig for that, but I made my point."

"What was the occasion?"

"The war was winding down, and we began to get reports of Kindred in combat situations that had broken Kindred law about killing humans for their blood. She was all set to try them all, and she would have. I barged into her office and said that I wanted a general amnesty for all the front line soldiers. That what they needed was help into reentering civilian life, and not to be tortured again. She asked me how I dared to talk to her that way, and I said that I dared because I had been to the front, and had been blown to bits and brought back to life ten times. I told her what the life of the soldier in the front line was. I reminded them how long Kindred soldiers could be on the front line, going through that again and again with no relief. I told her about the prayer for the sword of Duncan McLeod. I asked her if there was not an ounce of compassion in her body. She quoted me Kindred law chapter and verse. I told her that what had been done to those soldiers was an atrocity. I told her that she was a monster, who sent men and women to get blown to bits every day. That the dots in her maps were thinking and feeling men and women who needed some compassion and gratitude. I told her what Sonny said about you. And I added that you would be ashamed of having loved a monster such as she was. She slapped me and ordered me into the brig. I came out two days later, and as they let me out they let me see the general amnesty proclamation, just as I asked it. She also set up support groups to help veterans get back into civilian life. When I went into her office she asked me if I had seen the proclamation. I said I did. She said that she had two points to make, one that she was wrong and I was right. And that I should never mention your name again. And after that we went back to our normal relationship."

"That was something that you felt strongly about."

"It matters to me. It matters more than my own life, what is done to the front line soldiers. I am one of them. When they hurt, I hurt. When I see the top brass play games with them I rage. Have you ever seen an evil so terrible, so pervasive that you know you have to try to stop it, even if you know the odds are against you?"

"You mean the way I felt about the clan wars?"

"Yes. Exactly like that."

Julian said nothing. He studied Cameron and there was respect in his eyes.

Finally he spoke. "Cameron, when I started this I did not particularly like you. I felt sorry for you, for I knew that your life had been hard since I saw you last. I also knew that you had integrity and respected it. It impressed me that when you asked my help it was not for yourself, and that you actually asked me to make your death harder. But this thing...Cameron, I can tell whether your tell the truth or lie. You have not told me all the truth yet, but have not told an outright lie, so I know that it happened with you and Caitlin exactly as you said" he paused, as if he was searching for the right words. "I am surprised that you got off with only two days in the brig. Do you realize what you did?"

"I did not care."

Julian rose from his seat and towered over Cameron "You have incredible gall. Chutzpah. What right did you have to use my name? Was lining me against the wall and having my head blown off good grounds for you to chide others for not living up to my ideals? And to do it to Caitlin, the woman I loved, that I still love? How could you have dared?"

"I dared because I had to."

"Do you know what you did?" He silenced Cameron with a wave of his hand. "I will tell you what you did: You told the truth. You spoke up for those who could not speak for themselves. You showed compassion and courage when Caitlin's compassion had thinned out and Sonny's courage had faltered. You recalled Caitlin to her better nature. You stopped what you knew was evil. And you did it with my name as a weapon. What you did was to honor me, in word and deed." he laid his hand on Cameron's shoulder, who looked up at him, surprised. "for this you have my thanks. Any debt you owe me is paid up." his voice became soft now "All that is left is my regret that you and I could not have been friends."

"Too much between us." Cameron's voice was thick, seized by emotion. "It could not be. I used to be a different man then."

"It should have been possible." Julian sighed.

Cameron shook his head, with a half-smile. Julian stood there, silently. He realized that Cameron had never heard such words addressed to him in a long time, not under his real name. He had managed to tell himself that he did not need words of praise nor encouragement. But now that he heard them, he realized how deep the craving was.

"You all right?" he finally asked.

"I will be." he nodded. "You took me by surprise, that is all."

"Cameron, talk to Vyshinskaya. Apologize for your outburst. Tell her that she does not need to kill for blood. And then tell her what you told me about the front line soldiers, and try to make her care, as you do. You are her sire. Maybe you can transmit that to her."

The fourth day

"Did you explain things to Vyshinskaya?" Julian asked as he set the board. "About Kindred not needing to kill?"

"Yes. It is a bit hard because she is killing me, and she can see it. But with me it is a willing sacrifice."

"I know how hard it is for you."

"Julian, you know what I need?"

"What is it?"

"A good laugh. I go from her to you, and from you to her. She is a gloomy Russian who always expects the worst. And you can be so morose... as if you thought that if you cracked a joke it would be the End of Civilization As we Know it. I need to laugh. I am already dying in terrible pain. Coming here restores me, but still I have to go back to my dying body regularly. I do not need any more doom and gloom. I need to watch the Three Stooges. I want to laugh so hard that the beer comes out of my nose. I want to have fun."

"Three Stooges? I can set it up very quickly. Do you have any favorite shorts?"

"The ones with the original Curly. 'nyuk, nyuk, nyuk, Soitanly."

Julian smiled indulgently. "The Three Stooges were never my favorite comedians. But I understand their appeal. And sometimes low comedy is best for the soul."

They watched about ten shorts, with Cameron laughing violently and speaking Curly's lines along. Julian watched it with amused tolerance, and he even laughed out loud in a couple of occasions.

"You do not do Stooges routines, do you?"

"Not my style, I am afraid."

"Never mind, that was great."

"Is there anything else you would like?"

"Some Weird Al Yankovic records. I would like to sing along "Dare to be Stupid", and other hits. And maybe get you to sing along."

Again Julian's expression was one of amused tolerance. Cameron belted out "Dare to be Stupid" along with Weird Al, then segued into "One more minute", "Addicted to Spuds", "Christmas at Ground Zero", and "The Achy Breaky Song".

"You don't sing?" He asked Julian.

"Not much of a voice."

"Nonsense. You just don't like Weird Al. That is fine. I know that we do not have the same tastes. Just don't try to tell me that you don't sing. I heard you sing "Amazing Grace" and there was nothing wrong with your voice."

"When did you hear me sing?, No that's right. You did hear me. And I never got to finish that song."

"Caitlin finished it for you. She has a lovely voice. Sonny, on the other hand... His rendition of Kumbaya could be described as cruel and unusual punishment. But it worked. They managed to rub my face in the fact that I had won nothing of value. I only had the bullet-pierced body, and they had your soul and your dream. Can you believe that they actually sang "John Brown's body?" As in "John's Brown's body is amouldering in his grave, John Brown's body is amouldering in his grave, John Brown's body is amouldering in his grave, his soul is marching on." Subtle it wasn't. But I guess I had asked for it. I never realized how many friends you had. I do not think that too many people will be sorry when they find out I am dead."

"I know that the front line soldiers, if they knew what you had done for them would mourn you."

"Yes, they might. Well, I was never into self-pity. I made my bed, and I will lie in it." But he bit his lip nervously, staring ahead.

"Do you need any more laughs?"

"Yes. Do you have any Dave Barry books?"

"Dave Barry? I like him too. I can get you a book. Do you want to read it to me or have me read it to you?"

"You know what? Do you have any drawing supplies?"

"I can get them for you."

"I used to be a decent painter before I was drafted. I want to know if I am still any good. Why don't we do that? You read and I draw?"

Julian sat and began to read aloud: "The thing I like best about being a journalist, aside from being able to clip my toenails while working, is that sometimes, through hard work and perserverance and opening my mail, I come across story that can really help you, the consumer, gain a better understanding of how you can be killed by breakfast snack food."

He went on then to describe Dave Barry's experiment on starting a fire with a cheap toaster and pop tarts. He spoke with relish the capital letters warning that Barry had attached to the article: WARNING, DO NOT ATTEMPT THE FOLLOWING EXPERIMENT YOURSELF. THIS IS A DANGEROUS EXPERIMENT CONDUCTED BY A TRAINED HUMOR COLUMNIST UNDER CAREFULLY CONTROLLED CONDITIONS, NAMELY HIS WIFE WAS NOT HOME.

In the meantime, Cameron drew on his pad, sketch after sketch. He laughed at Julian's words, and took pleasure on the delivery. He wondered for how long Julian could continue speaking in a well modulated voice. From his experience, it was impossible to read Barry aloud without rolling helpless with laughter before reaching the end of the column. Julian was not known for his sense of humor, but even he could not be immune to the Dave Barry Syndrome.

He wasn't. It took a few convulsions, but eventually Julian regained his composure and continued reading. Barry's words had lit an impish light on Julian's eye, and Cameron knew that he had to capture it.

Julian put down the book. "How are your sketches?"

"I got about ten here. Do you want to see them?"

He showed Julian the landscapes he had done, the study of the big tree behind them, the drawing of the backgammon board which had not been used that time. And he showed him the four studies of Julian as he read.

"Not a bad likeness." Julian said "You do have talent."

"I have not done a drawing since the war started. I never had the room to carry the supplies, and not enough free time to do it, anyway. Well, we lost so many things to the war, why not my artistic career, such as it was?"

"We lost too many things to the war. I wish I could tell you when it will all end. I wish I could reassure you that things will ever get back to normal. War is a terrible thing, and no one knows yet how to avoid it."

"Hold it, that expression..."

"What is it?"

"The way you looked. With concern, compassion, and a hard edge to it. Too many of those who paint your picture leave out the hard edge."

Julian shrugged. "You mean the Saint Julian pictures?"

"Yes. You understand the problem with them, do you?

"Yes. Do you think that you can do better?"

"I know I can. You were never Saint Julian to me. Will you pose for me?"

Julian did, and Cameron began to fill his sketch pad. Julian staring grimly ahead. Julian with a half smile. Julian actually laughing (Dave Barry again). Julian with a peaceful expression, and Julian struggling with his anger; for this one Julian brought back the memory of the pain he had felt when Sasha had been embraced into the Brujah."

"Yes, these are my likenesses, not those of a plaster saint."

"I am glad you like them."

Julian frowned. "There are some pictures that bother me more. They are so saccharine that I cannot bear to look at them. I would like to have at least one of them done right. But you don't have to do it if it makes you uncomfortable."

Cameron frowned. He knew what pictures Julian meant. And Julian was right. He too found them unendurable.

"Julian, I could do it once for real. I can do it again for a picture. If it is all right with you, it is all right with me."

"Thanks. I think that the wall we used is that way."

They got to the spot and Cameron sat down with the drawing pad on his knees.

"All right, take off your coat and tie."

Julian did so.

"Wrong color shirt, oh, well, this is black and white. Stand there, with your hands behind you."

Julian did so.

"Turn your head around and look at me. Try to remember what you were thinking about me. How I was going to have my world crash down on me, and would have no reason for living. Remember that you felt sorry for me and why."

Cameron sketched quickly. "There, that was the expression I remember. I tried to recapture it a couple of times from memory, but I failed, then decided that it was inviting my obsession back and abandoned it. Now I got it right. Turn a bit more to this side. You are now looking at Sonny. Remember how you felt about him, how you tried to encourage him."

"I knew that Sonny would have the hardest time of all accepting it."

"Try not to talk, it makes your face move. Just hold that expression for a few minutes" he sketched quickly, then laid the pad down " Sonny always took things hard. I told you when I ran into him, didn't I?"

"He told me too of that meeting."

"Isn't that an out-of-bounds subject, Julian?"

"Yes, you are right. But you and I are having such a good time that the other shore got more distant, and it is relatively safe to talk about it. Sonny is all right now. He is still healing, but he is all right."

"I am glad. All right, move your head again. You are looking at Caitlin and remembering how you screwed up your love life. Try to forget everything I told she did since then. She was not the woman who saved the world yet, but maybe there was something in her that indicated she could be. You never stopped loving her, but you did not know how to do it right. You hurt her, and did not mean to."

There was the ghost of pain in Julian's face again. Not much, but enough to convey the regret that Julian felt when confronted with Caitlin. Cameron sketched quickly.

"There, I got three studies of your head. Tell me what you think."

Julian looked at them. "I can't believe it. This is me. My dark side is there, tamed, but not gone. That is what the others leave out."

"You are a saint, and saints have no dark sides."

"They probably have a greater dark side than most. They become saints because of their struggle to overcome it."

"I'd like to get a full body sketch now, or at least one that ends at the knees. Go stand at that spot again. Hands behind you."

Julian did so.

"No, your hands are too low. Lift them. Higher. Yes that is. Relax your arms more. Open your hands. Your hands were wholly relaxed. Move your wrists a bit closer. Perfect. Look ahead, smile, very gently. You are showing me that all that the shackles did was waste the time it took to put them on you. There was no need for them at all, but you put up with them to get things over as quickly as possible. You are making me look like a jerk, too. But I hardly needed your help for that, didn't I?"

"Do you want me to disagree? Not a chance."

"You are still sore because I tried to deny you a clean shirt?"

"Well, it was a petty thing to do, Cameron."

"What can I tell you? Hatred had made me a petty man."

"At least you are over it now."

"As I said, you hit your head on the wall long enough, and eventually your figure out that all you are getting is a headache. Step back two paces and stare at the distance, still with a gentle smile."

Julian did so and Cameron sketched again. "All right, now try turning thirty degrees. Lift your head a bit higher. You are beginning to sing."

"I can sing "Amazing Grace" again. Do you want to join?"

"I can't. I have to draw. But let me tell you what, you sing "Amazing Grace", and then I will sing "The biggest ball of twine in Minnesotta".

"What's that?" "A Weird Al song. You might want to join in the chorus."

"It is a deal." He then sang "Amazing Grace", finding again the feeling that had seized him the day of his execution. His face changed, taking the otherworldy look it had held then. Cameron sketched quickly, feeling shivers run up and down his spine. He was glad when the song ended.

"That was great. Come take a look. I never thought I would be able to draw your face like this."

Julian studied the drawings. "You are very good."

Cameron saw that he was searching for words, and was afraid of what they might be.. "All right, time for Weird Al break." he said, quickly. He belted out the nonsense lyrics aloud, and was gratified to have Julian join him, reluctantly, at the third chorus. "the biggest ball of twine in Minnesotta, Minnesotta."

"That was a pleasant bit of nonsense." Julian said.

"Julian, I don't think I can do more of this."

"Are you uncomfortable doing this?"

"I want to make sure that I do not relive it. It almost happened when you sang. I do not mind drawing it, visiting it, talking about it, as long as it part of a past that is dead and done for. I do not want to bring back the man I used to be. I do not want to deal with his hatred, his pettiness, or his obsession. It took me a long time to be healed of it."

Julian looked down, ashamed. "You are right. I have no right to bring it all back to you. You entrusted yourself to me, and I came close to betraying your trust."

"About the sketches, I think I have enough. I am missing one of you with the back against the wall, but that would not be a very interesting one. The blindfold would hide most of the facial expression and all I could get would be the body language, which I already got from the other sketches."

Cameron looked down on his lap as Julian sat next to him.

"It is safer to stop. I am very sorry. I thought of myself, not what I was doing to you."

"I can talk about it, I am fine as long as I remember that I am not the Cameron I once was."

Julian put his hand on Cameron's shoulder. "I know what it is to leave your past behind and start over. Please accept my apology for what I almost did to you here."

Cameron covered Julian's hand with his own and squeezed it. "No harm done, Julian."

The fifth day

"She is accepting that I am dying for her sake. I am helping her see that she is not killing me, but that I am sacrificing myself for her."

"It is hard. She just wakes up, and has these urges that lead her to prey on the only other survivor, and kill him to sustain herself. It is hard not to remember the worst stories about our kind."

"That is why I left messages when I am found that stress that it was my decision to trade her life for mine. She cannot avoid my death. But she can see it as a beautiful act of selflessness. The world of the Kindred is not to be a world of brutal predation, but one in which love and honor and self-sacrifice are to be found. I sired her, and I gave my life for my offspring. She can even see it as an act of love. Even though I dislike her intensely."

"You cannot forgive her for being top brass?"

"I am cannon fodder, Julian. Scratch me, and you will find that. Anything else that I have been does not matter. I have been Primogen, I have been a judge. I have been a motel keeper. I was your murderer. I have been, still am, Brujah. I am Kindred. Yes I am, I have been all that. But what I am, deep down is a guy that has been blown away twenty times and put together again twenty times, and shipped back into action. I am the one who joined in the choruses asking for Duncan McLeod's sword. I am the one who yelled at Caitlin, saying that she was becoming a monster and did not know it, because of the way she treated the front line soldiers. I am the one who speaks for the grunts in the front lines. Vyshinskaya and I are enemies. She sends my kind to be blown away and gets a promotion for that. I may be able to forgive her, but I cannot like her. No, I can forgive her for my own wounds, for my own pain. But I don't have the authority to forgive her for every grunt that she has blown away."

"That is between her and God."

"And that is an out-of-bounds topic, so I better change the conversation. Get the board out. We play checkers today. I don't care if you beat me. I just want to study the game."

They played a few moves, in silence. Cameron was agitated. Julian waited to see if he calmed down. He didn't.

"Is something bothering you?"

"Nothing. Just upset, that is all."

"Maybe you should tell me what it is. Maybe there is an answer."

"Maybe it is something you can do nothing about. All right, it is about my love life. Considering how successful you were at managing your own, you can forgive me for not asking your opinion."

"There is a woman you love."

"Loved, she is dead." "You will see her again soon."

"I do not think that she will want to see me. It did not end well. Don't ask me the details. Let's say I screwed it up beyond repair, and she died before I could apologized. Well, I screwed up so many things in my life, what is one more or less?"

Julian studied the board.

"Well? Arent' you going to offer to find out if she still hates my guts? Can't you find her and ask her?"

"That's out of bounds."

"Yeah, I forgot. The rules. Some things we are not supposed to talk about."

They played a few games in silence. Julian always beat Cameron, who each time the end of the game was reached grimly rearranged the pieces for the next one.

"Wouldn't you rather play chess?"

"Checkers is the game. That is military strategy. There is no King, no centralized commands. There are dispersed command centers, so that if one is taken the others can fill in. That is the way war is fought nowadays. That is how the next war will go. I want to understand it. I want to figure out how Vyshinskaya's mind works. I want to remind myself that the fate of the entire Earth depends on how well she plays this game. I want to be able to understand her and forgive her."

Julian nodded. "Forgiving is not always easy. Sometimes it has to be willed."

"Did you ever will yourself to forgive anyone, or was it easy for you?"

"It was never easy for me. I am not the Saint Julian they talk about. I always had to will myself to it. I had to remind myself how much in need of forgiveness I was myself. And I had to think of the practical consequences of my failure to forgive."

"What was the hardest thing for you to forgive?"

"Daedalus' death. No one deserved to die as he did, and he least of all."

"It was those human teenage gangs who set derelicts on fire, wasn't it?"

"Yes. Much of what happened in the clan wars was horrible, but I could believe that those acts would not have happened if we had no wars, that they were committed by basically decent people who were pushed beyond their limit. Daedalus by killed by predators who just enjoyed beating on anybody who cold not defend himself or herself. I forgave them, then I did them the favor of teaching them the facts of life, namely that there were toughter, nastier predators out there, and that they too could be prey."

"Were you ever at a Jesuit school?"

"I was raised a Catholic, why?"

"Because that is the kind of reasoning a Jesuit would come up with. Forgive somebody as you beat the Hell out of them."

"I did not kill any of them. They just got back some of the pain and suffering they inflicted on others. Punishment is not the same as revenge. They had earned punishment and it was not kindness to withhold it from them. I taught them a lesson, they learned it, and I did not bother them again. From what I understand, they all became law-abiding citizens later on."

"Yes, there is a difference. What I did was revenge. You had already learned your lesson. You had turned away from your evil ways and were seeking to make amends. I did not wish to see it. So that's how I ended up at Bates' Motel."

"And on the front lines."

"That was the war. I was drafted with the rest of them. Even if I had led a blameless life I would have ended there."

"You might have been demobilized after the war ended. Or you might have been in the high command instead of the front lines."

"Then it is a good thing that I had you killed. Because I would have become a monster in the high command."

"They might be monsters, but they saved the Earth once, and may save it again."

"Yes, I have to remember that. What can I say, Julian? You can see both sides of the issue. I can't. I am cannon fodder. I pray for Duncan McLeod's sword. I sing that I am going to Heaven, 'cause I done my time in Hell. I am doing my time in Hell right now, and our conversation is just a furlough. I am the front lines. And the high command is made up of monsters from where I see them."

The sixth day

"The ship is one day away. Vyshinskaya confirmed its possision. They will reach us tomorrow later in the day. There are Kindred on the ship and they know what to expect. A weak but recovering Vyshinskaya and a very dead Norman. I will be dead, won't I?"

"You do not wish to have them shove the funnel into your throat again? If you could stand the pain of it, you might yet be brought back. You may have quite a number of good years left in you. Or do yo wish to escape the coming war?"

"I must die. I owe it to Mariska. And it would be a lot easier if Caitlin does not have to decide what to do with me."

"What would she have to decide?"

"What penalty to give me for Mariska's cold blooded murder. She cannot let me get away with it, not with my confession on record. But that would mean letting Vyshinskaya know the truth."

"What is the truth? Who is Mariska? What murder are you talking about?"

Cameron shivered and covered his face with is hands.

"There was one more survivor. Mariska, the woman I loved. She had serious wounds, but could make it. Vyshinskaya was dying. I had to save Vyshinksaya. I had to deliver her alive to her destination. I could not let her die, and there was only one way. And afterwards the only source of blood would be the already weak Mariska, and me, too. Mariska would not have survived feeding Vyshinskaya, even if I did not touch her. I knew how long it would take a ship to get there. I could make the math, and the numbers would not change. Sooner or later Vyshinskaya would have fed on Mariska, and weak as Mariska was, fighting infection with virtually no medical supplies, it would have killed her. Vyshinskaya would have begun life as Kindred as a killer, stealing the life from the innocent to sustain herself. I had to deliver Vyshinskaya alive and in the right mental shape to fight the war. I could not let her take this burden."

"So you took it upon yourself."

"Good forgive me, I did. I loved Mariska, and I could not save her. My orders were to deliver Vyshinskaya. And Mariska was expendable. I made it painless. I rendered her uncounsious and drained her blood. I recorded my confession to the crime as her blood went into the bags that I would later take while I was feeding Vyshinskaya with my own blood. Vyshinskaya must never know what happened. Mariska had died with the others, in the attack. I gave Mariska a space funeral, and I promised her that I would not survive her long. That was the only way I could let myself do it, by saying that I would follow her soon. At least it was quick, and she did not suffer. Then I said to myself that she was cannon fodder, just like me, and that she had gotten a more merciful end than most cannon fodder have the right to expect. But that does not change it. I murdered the woman I loved in cold blood."

"And the first time you summoned me..."

"I had the last of Mariska's blood, and trying to stretch it. The second time, I had run out. I knew that I was at the end of my rope, that I would die soon, would be unable to save Vyshinskaya, and that Mariska would have died for nothing..."

"So you came to me with your last bargaining chip: your pain. You asked an enemy for help, offering the opportunity to hurt you in exchange."

"Not for my sake. I know that I deserve nothing. Not even forgiveness. But I could not let Mariska die for nothing.

" Julian shook his head, evaluating the situation quickly.

"I screwed up again. I thought that I had put my past behind me. That I had a right to happiness, right to hope. But I do not deserve it. I am Cameron the Devil. I am as evil as they say I am. They should have taken my head long ago."

"No, they should not."

"Why not?"

"Because you are taking sole responsibility for something that was not in your control."

"It is my fault that Mariska is dead."

"What were your orders, Cameron?"

"Following orders is no excuse. You know that."

"What were your orders?"

"To keep Vyshinskaya alive. At any cost."

"At any cost. Caitlin has already endorsed your actions."

"Just following orders does no good in a court of law."

"Are these evil orders? No. Is keeping Vyshinskaya alive an evil thing? No, it may save the Earth to keep her alive. Is trying to save the Earth an evil thing? It is not." "

It is agains the Kindred law what I did."

"Weren't acts like this, committed under duress, under the incredible stress of combat, covered in the amnesty you extracted from Caitlin after the last wars?"

"We are not at war. Not yet."

"Cameron, let me paint you the whole picture. There are three survivors, and only one can make it. One lives, one dies quickly and painlessly, one dies slowly and in great pain. You agonize over choosing who will die a merciful death, and who will live, but you think nothing over the manner of your own death. I can keep you free of pain only for a few hours a day. As for the rest, I know for how long you scream as soon as you know that Vyshinkaya cannot hear you. And you do not count that in the equation? Don't you see that you are being sacrificed, same as Mariska was? You know that there could be only one survivor, and you are unhappy over the one you chose. Must I remind you that you are under orders? That the choice was made for you by your superior officer?"

"Mariska loved me. She trusted me."

"You are at war. You know it is coming. You know how bad it is going to be. This was a combat situation, Cameron. You said it yourself. War strips your choices from you. Cameron, you have compassion for others. Have some for yourself."

"So Mariska's life means nothing."

"It means everything to you. It meant enough so that you chose the quick painless way for her, and you took the hard death. Mourn her, rage against this war that took her from you. Regret that she cannot be here with you. But do not take the blame for a war that you did not start. Do not do this to yourself. Do not accept guilt that is not rightfully yours." Julian's eyes blazed. "In war there is always too much guilt. Don't take on any more than you have to."

"It can never be justified what I did."

"No, it can never be. But it can always be forgiven."

"Is forgiveness possible?"

"It always is, if you ask with a contrite heart. Which you have."

Cameron began to cry, shaking violently as he sobbed. Julian just held him.

"You are not a devil, Cameron. Maybe in some ways you are a better man than I am."

"What about her? I loved her, and she must hate me now. How can she forgive me?"

"She can."

"Can't you tell me? No, you can't. She will never forgive me."

"Cameron, listen. I cannot tell you certain things. But I can let you think it through. I can let you find the answers. Was Mariska military?"

"Yes, she was."

"Had she seen combat?"

"Yes."

"Did she know how bad the situation was. Did she know of the coming war?"

"Yes."

"Did she know how important Vyshinksaya was?"

"Yes."

"Did she understand the concept of acceptable casualties? Did she accept it?"

"Yes. She did."

"If she had had to choose between your life and Vyshinskaya, who do you think she would have saved?"

"She would have saved her."

"And given you as painless a death as she could, because she loved you."

Cameron shook his head.

"Cameron, don't get sentimental. She would have done it, for the same reason you did it. Not because she was a bad person, but because she had a duty, and she would sacrifice everything to that duty. Even the man she loved. Now, was she intellectually honest?"

"What do you mean?"

"Was she one of those people who agree on a philosophy as long as it does not apply to them? Or was she honest enough to accept that it included her?"

"She was intellectually honest."

"Then I say you have no problem. She knows why you did it, and she knows that she would have done the same. And she knows the manner of your death and is probably grateful that you spared her that."

Cameron shook his head. "I should not have done it."

"Should you have let Vyshinskaya die? Knowing what you know?"

Cameron kept shaking his head. "I should have found a way out."

"Sometimes there is no way out. Sometimes you have to accept the fact that you will take losses. Do you think it was easy for Sonny to let you execute me? Do you know how long it took me to explain to him why he had to accept it? He was as stubborn as you are, but I wore him down."

He took Cameron's shoulders forcefully and stared hard into his eyes. "If I have to, I will wear you down. I will not let you to take on guilt that is not rightfully yours. I will not allow you to hate yourself. And I will make you forgive Vyshinskaya for Mariska's death. And when you see her again you will use all your authority as your sire to give to her all your concern, all your love for the front line soldiers, for the cannon fodder, so that she does not become a monster."

"No," Cameron shook his head "I cannot do that. I want to, but I can't. She has to play the game. If she is unwilling to spend the lives of soldiers, she may lose the war. I thought about it, Julian, and I cannot. She may be a monster, I may hate and despise her, but Earth needs her as she is. God forgive me, I cannot help my fellow soldiers this way. I have to abandon them for the sake of victory. Tell me, what does it make me?"

"A good man faced with an impossible choice. A man whose was given only bad choices and took the one that gives hope to all. A man who is taking on guilt that does not belong to him."

"To whom does it belong?"

"I don't know. Whoever started this war, maybe. Or whatever it is in Creation that does not allow surcease from war. But what does it matter who does it belong to? When you return mail sent to your address by mistake do you worry as to where it is supposed to go? That's the Post Office's problem, not yours. Return the guilt unopened. It is not your concern to deliver it to the right recipients. All that you know is that is not your guilt."

"So that is your advice? Reject the guilt?"

"You have done all you can, Cameron. Let that be your epitaph: He did all he could.

" Cameron composed himself. Maybe it was true, maybe he had done all he could, and the rest was in God's hands.

"You think Mariska will forgive me?" he asked fornlonly.

"I think she will."

"I...I forgive Vyshinskaya. Just don't ask me to like her."

The seventh day

The fog had lifted from the other shore. It shone invitingly as Cameron walked side by side with Julian.

"I guess that today is the last day. Thanks for helping me with the tape. I wanted Caitlin and Sasha to know..." Cameron said, then he looked across the water. "You still think I can be forgiven my many sins?"

"God loves you, Cameron. Never doubt that. You had a hard life, and a hard death. I know that you will find mercy."

"And Mariska.."

"Mariska loves you. She wants me to tell you that."

"So she forgave me."

"I told you, she was military. She understood the situation. She would have done the same as you did if she had had to choose between your life and Vyshinskaya."

Cameron nodded. "So it is. Julian I do not know how to thank you."

"I did just I agreed to do."

"No, all I asked was for you to keep me alive long enough. You did much more. I am ashamed to think of the way I hated you. I am ashamed that I ever doubted your sincerity, that I spent years trying to unmask you for a hypocrite. I should have known that you meant every word you said. I should have known that what you were trying to establish was more than a ploy to grab power. I should have shared your dream."

"But you did, in a way. I could not have gone so far without your cooperation. And some of the things you helped me out, didn't you think were good things, even if it was I that created them?"

"I had to admit it to myself, yes. I knew what the Tribunal meant. I knew that had it existed then, Archon could not have sent you to Manzanita to kill my friends. They would have had a hearing and protection. You put that protection there, and I perverted it. I did not keep faith with them, even when I said that I was collecting for them."

"I never actually apologized for that."

"Not with words, Julian. Just with the whole of your being. I did not want to see it. I just kept accusing you of having an ulterior motive."

"I had. I wanted to break the power of the mob bosses. I wanted our people to be free to choose their path and not have thugs dictate them how to live."

"And I was one of those thugs."

"There was more to you than that. Look what you did with yourself once you broke free of the Brujah organization. Cyrus would not have done what you did. Neither would Eddie Fiori. You were like many others, forced to live by the Brujah mob rules because they were the only protection you had from rival clans. But that was not who you were meant to be."

"And what am I?"

"The one who speaks for the cannon fodder. The one who forces the supreme commander of the Kindred to back down and care properly for the front line soldiers, the one who shames her into remembering her better nature. And my friend."

"No, I am not your friend. I cannot be."

"It is too late to reject it now. Not after these seven days. You have laughed with me, and cried with me. You have poured out your heart to me. You let me know your self, the good and the bad. You did some work for me, and did not ask to be paid. You honored me by asking my help on a brave and noble deed. You listened to my own musings and sympathized with me. You forgave my betrayal of your trust. I have stood a death vigil for you. If we are not friends, then what are we?"

"I do not know. But I cannot be the friend of the man I murdered."

"Are you sorry you did it?"

"Yes."

"Will you say it? The whole sentence? The same way you did with Caitlin and Sasha?"

"All right, Julian, I am sorry I had you killed."

"I accept your apology, my friend."

"Just like that? Is it that easy?"

"You think it is easy to get an apology out of a stubborn mule like yourself?"

Cameron laughed. "I had it coming, didn't I? And did you just make a quip?"

"Seems I did."

"Are you actually getting a sense of humor? Do you still learn and change in the other shore? Or is that out of bounds, still?"

"Well, I think that you are about to find out for yourself. The other ship is about to dock. I better get you out of here before they shove that funnel down your throat again."

He waved to a figure standing by the shore. "Come let's meet Harry."

The blond man shook hands with Julian and Cameron.

"Cameron, this is Harry, he is an angel of death. He is the one who took me across. He is very gentle, and will deliver you safely. Harry, better get him out of here quick."

"Julian." Cameron said as he left. "One more favor. You can still contact Caitlin as her sire. Remind her from time to time what I told her about the front line soldiers. Someone has to speak for them."

"I will, my friend. Go in peace."

Henry and Cameron walked away, and Julian saw them walk through the water to the other shore. He remembered his own journey, which had begun not far from where he was now. He had been reluctant to leave and had in fact remained long enough to deliver a feather touch to Sonny who had just severed the spinal cord of his shattered body. It gave Sonny comfort, and he needed it most of those assembled that day. Then Harry had tugged at his sleeve and reminded him that his friends were on their own, and that they would manage all right, even without him.

"You did well, Julian." Monica said, appearing from behind the trees.

"Yes. Will there be any problems for him? I will speak for him if he needs it."

"He has found mercy. His heart was sorely wounded, but it held much love. He rejected hate and that is what counts."

"I am glad." he was silent for a few moments. "I am sorry about what happened the fourth day. I took a terrible risk. That I, of all people, would risk giving someone in my care a flashback... just because I wanted a good picture of myself."

"You and he were being buddies, having fun together. Your guard was down. Your mistake was letting him take the lead. And it actually did good. All you had agreed to was to keep him alive, no more. He had given you the right to hurt him as much as you wanted and he never took it back. That one time you almost hurt him, then you backed down immediately and apologized. He knew then that he could trust you enough to tell you the rest of his story...Julian, let it go. Remember what you said about unearned guilt. It applies to you too."

"I did not expect to like him as much as I did. He has been brave and selfless. He accepted his lot without complaining. He did not whine or beg. He rebuilt his life, and found his way out of the hatred that devoured him. I am glad I got to know him as I did."

Monica stood, watching how the other shore was lost in fog, how then the fog covered the water, how the water seemed to shiver, and then was gone.

"They cannot bring him back." Julian said. "Even if they shove the funnel into his throat. He is been demobilized at last."

Monica nodded. Julian looked around "This is a beautiful place. I never saw it really. Actually, each time I was in here there was something more dramatic going on, so I could not pay much attention to its natural beauty. I want to see it now. Will you walk along with me?"

"You know that this is not the real one. The original burned up during the war."

"Yes, the war. Tell me, Monica. When will know freedom from war? Is there ever going to be an end to war after war, after war?"

"Out of bounds, Julian."

"You are right. Out of bounds. Well, let's talk of something else. What do you suggest?

" Monica threw her arm overs his shoulders "Well, we can talk about this war that is to come. This war that you can do something about. Come, let me get you a beer, and I will tell you about it."

Epilogue:

"Cameron is dead." Caitlin told Sasha "I called you because in his last message he asked that you be notified. He could not think of anyone else who would have cared."

"Did he have no one?"

"His sire died long ago. Those he sired dissasociated themselves from him. He had no friends left. None under his real name, and the ones he made under Norman's name he did not want to know who he really was. And he wasn't really close with them, anyway."

"It is sad." Sasha admitted. "To think of being so utterly alone. There was a time when I enjoyed knowing that about him. But that was a long time ago."

"He was my best operative. I kept sending him in all these missions, and he often ended up being hurt. He never complained. He made jokes a couple of times about me liking to put him in harm's way."

"And did you?"

"All those missions I sent him to were important, some were vital to our survival, and he knew it. And he was good at it. But yes, I always thought that if someone had to be blown up for it, better him than some poor bastard who had done me no harm."

"So it ends. Does he say why to contact me?"

"You are the head of his clan. Clan membership means little these days, but it is still there. Cameron claimed allegiance to you, and has named you executor of his will."

"Did he have much property?"

"Some money in the bank, accumulating interest. Plus all the things he had put away in boxes when he was drafted. You can catalog them, evaluate them, auction them off, and use the proceeds for the proper care of wounded front-line soliders, and for the rehabilitation of veterans of the next war. He left a number of pictures, which according to him must be worth something. And we are to contact the woman who taught him to conduct death vigils, and let her choose the five paintings she likes best, as thanks for her kindness to him. You can have a picture too, as reward for your efforts, as do I."

"He was actually a good painter. I saw some of his work ages ago, before the war. There was a picture that touched me, a lonely figure walking through the darkness into the light. I almost asked him how much he was selling it for."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because he was Cameron. I could pretend that I did not know who he was, and act pleasant to him. But that picture...that was him, seeking to return to the light. I did not want to condone it. For me, he was still in darkness. He had not suffered enough. Now, I would like to have it."

"Well, now he has suffered far more than he deserved. And the way he died...I do not know where he found the courage."

She told Sasha of Cameron's slow death, and his confession of the killing of the other survivor, along with the reason why.

"What will you do?"

"I will bury him with honor. He served us well. I will have to bury him as Norman. We cannot let Vyshinskaya know the full story of her sire yet. But one day she will be able to hear it, and that day I will put his real name in his gravesite. He has earned it." Caitlin shook her head, and almost reluctantly added. "Well, done, thou good and faithful servant."

"It is fair." Sasha agreed.

"I want you to listen to his message, Sasha. There is something in it that I do not want to discuss with anyone else, not yet. But you deserve to know it too. I believe it to be true because of the date it was recorded. Accoding to the logs, Cameron would have been too weak to operate the recording device. And Vyshinskaya would not have been allowed to know my private code. Someone else must have helped him to operate the device and key the code."

"Who?"

"I would not have believed if I had not heard it. You listen to me, and tell me if I am wrong."

"Hello, Caitlin, Sasha." Cameron's voice came through "this is the last you will hear from me. I am dying, dead...I could not think of anyone else who would care, so I left this for you. Sasha, I want you, as the head of the Brujah clan, to be the executor of my will..."

He counted the amount of his property and how he wanted it disposed of. The money in the bank, from the motel profits, and some money that the Brujah clan owed him. Then his personal effects, still in storage from the beginning of the war.

"And that is all I own. Now, I want to talk to you. Caitlin, I am sorry, but since you cannot throw me in the brig, I will talk of things you forbade me to speak of.

"Let me start by thanking you, Sasha. You had the power to hurt me, many times and never used it. You have always dealt fairly with me...Sasha, for a long time I would not apologize, it seemed so empty, so useless. What would change if I said that I am sorry? Why should my regrets make life any better for anyone? Who cares what I have to say? Yet, I have to say it. For all the pain I caused you I beg your forgiveness. You may or may not give it to me, but I want you to know how sorry I am. I broke your heart twice, first Cash, and then Julian. Sasha, I will confess you this. I was attracted to you, and that is why I killed Cash. Maybe what made you attractive to me was your connection with Julian. I wanted to bed his great-great-great grandchild. Sasha, I used to be different man then, but that does not change the facts. I am sorry I hurt you. You do not have to forgive me, only to know that I am sorry.

"And you, Caitlin, you are the best boss I could have hoped for. We have done many things together. Thanks to you I have been of service, and I would like to think that my services in the war and afterwards count in the balance. I have tried to make up for my past, but it is hard. Tell me Caitlin, have I found worth in your eyes? When you looked at me, what did you see? Just a shiny, useful tool? Or did you see the man beneath it? And what did you think of the man? Can you forgive me for the pain I caused you? I still remember you from that day, standing very straight, with a sweet, sad smile, finishing "Amazing Grace." Your heart was breaking, but still you stood straight, and would not let me see you weep. I would give anything to take that pain away now. It does not help, but I am sorry."

There was a stretch of silence. Sasha shook her head "The poor bastard."

"There is more."

"Caitlin," Cameron's voice came through again. "Do your remember that one time that you threw me in the brig? Please take good care of the front line soldiers. They will need compassion and gratitude in the war that is coming. Care for them, Caitlin."

"I will," Caitlin said, nodding. She gestured at Sasha. "here it comes," she whispered."

"Caitlin, my love." the new voice came through. Caitlin stopped the tape.

"That was Julian's voice." Sasha said. "It was him, wasn't it?"

"I would recognize that voice anywhere. It is him! He is talking to us!" Caitlin started the tape again.

"Caitlin, my love. I know it has been a long time. I hope that you have someone to share your life and love with. Someone who can love you truly, and give you all the love I could not give you. Someone who is not damaged as I was. It would grieve me to know that you might deny yourself the love that you deserved out of misguided loyalty to me. There is too much love in you not to be shared. Love is not love unless you give it away, Caitlin.

"I know that I left you alone too long. I could have communicated with you long before this. But you had to find your own way and you could not have done if you had gone back to ask my opinion each time you were puzzled. It was for this same reason that once the worst of my grief was spent and Duncan had come into my life that Archon told me that I could not contact him anymore. I had my own destiny to fulfill, not Archon's, and my achievements should be my own. So it had to be with you, and Sonny, and everyone I loved.

"I know of the great war threatening the future. I will not tell you that you will win it, only that you can. You have more of a chance than it seems at first. What you cannot afford is complacency. You will need to fight hard, take losses that will tear your heart, and find the strength to endure. Someone will come to take the burdens from you. Someone who will build on your shoulders, as you and Sonny built on mine, I built on Archon's, and he built on those who came before him. Our people will change, again. Through great pain will come great opportunities. And I will be with you and our people in this battle."

"Sasha, my child, I will not tell you what will happen, only that there is both pain and joy in store for you. You have the strength now to endure what is to endure, and the power to seize the joy. I am proud of you. I love you, my child, my little Brujah Princess.

"One more thing, Caitlin, it is time to put Saint Julian to rest. I was no saint, any more than Cameron was a devil. We were just flawed people who stumbled through life, trying to find our way, making mistakes, and paying for them. The moment came when what we did really mattered, and when our choices made the difference. When it really mattered I did the right thing, and don't forget, when it really mattered, so did he...Saint Julian, he was needed at one time, a useful weapon in an war that is long past. Let it fade slowly into dust like all outdated weapons. Those saccharine pictures of me, going like a lamb to a slaughter, ought to be put out of circulation, and the sooner the better. Looking at them you would think that all I ever did in my life was look for an appropriate wall to line myself up against. I have enclosed some historically accurate pictures of the execution. Cameron made them at my request. It is fitting that he, who once destroyed my face, should return it to you, just as it was.

"And, Cameron wants me to remind you, care for the front-line soldiers. Their lives may have to be sacrificed for the sake of victory, and that is a burden that cannot be lifted from you, but be aware of what you sacrifice. They are people with hopes and dreams, who deserve better than to be stopping bullets with their bodies. What must be done you will do; when you can afford compassion, use it. Whatever you can do to ease their lot, no matter how small, will help. War may strip our choices from us, but there are still chances to choose right or wrong, and souls are often saved by those small choices. I know that you will do what is right, Caitlin, my love, my greatest love."

The tape ended and Caitlin bowed her head. She took out a package of drawings and shared them with Sasha. There were three drawings of Julian's head, with legend under them. "Julian comforting Sonny." "Julian telling Cameron to get a life.", "Julian saying farewell to Caitlin." Caitlin looked into Julian's eyes and remembered. He had looked at her just like that. All his love, all his regrets for his failure with her.

"Can you forgive me for the hurt I gave you?"

"With all my heart, Julian." she said again, not sure if she was speaking about that request long ago, or the words in the tape. It did not matter. She would keep faith with both.

Comment: Well, I came up with an ending for the whole saga that drew from Bergman's The Seventh Seal. There are worse sources of inspiration.

Cameron interested me because while he is a bad guy, in his own view he is the good guy and Julian is the bad guy. He offers a lot more possibilities than Eddie Fiori ever did. (Eddie was just a thug, who did not worry about who the good or the bad guys were).

In this story I give both Cameron and Julian the chance to know each other and to re-evaluate their opinion of the other. Incidentally, the one thing that eats at Cameron in this story is the fact that what he did with Mariska was a military decision, the kind of decision that the top brass that he so hates would make. He has become what he hates most, though Julian has enough sense not to point this out to him.

As for Julian, he has his own agenda, which is to get rid of Saint Julian (he virtually steps out of a stereotypical Saint Julian picture at the beginning of the story and reclaims the whole of his complex personality). He understands that this means also getting rid of Cameron the Devil. He has good reasons to change his opinion of Cameron, but one strong bond between them is that neither of them believes in Julian's sainthood.