3000, four hours later
Spike and I board that international transport system after reconvening with Richard and Reyni and also contacting the Council about the current situation. We gave them all the information we had, and Reyni took charge, assuring me that she'd be working on the situation from outside. My stomach is an apprehensive knot because I have no idea what's going to happen, but outwardly, I appear as cool and confident as ever. I can't recall how many years have passed since I felt this ominous about something I'm willingly doing.
Of course, Spike senses my tension as we find our seats. "You okay, love?"
Providing him a tight-lipped smile, I tell him a half-truth, "Yeah."
He cradles my hand in his large one in reassurance. "We'll figure this out."
"Yes, I know." I peer up at him with a question in my eyes. "But will we make it out alive?"
He is honest as usual. "I don't know."
"How will we know when to get off?" The world outside the window is cloaked in darkness. Once we start moving, the windows will close, and we will literally fly from place to place close to instantaneously. The train system is useful mainly because public transports are often overcrowded and not everyone can afford a personal transport. The system is also useful for demon travel and avoidance of international criminal justice.
"I have a feeling we'll know, love. Why don't you get some rest."
As people continue to board, I lean my head on his shoulder, trusting him to protect me. A few moments of stolen dozing are likely to be precious in the long run. His arm is strong and unmoving beneath my head, and I feel my muscles relax against him. Lost in the cloud of muddled thoughts, I notice his strong fingers sweeping slowly and soothingly through my long hair and massaging my scalp.
* * *
3000, about thirty minutes later
"We're here."
My mind is instantly alert as I blink off sleep. "Where are we?"
"New View."
Known for high crime rates, New View is a major city in what used to be North America. Somehow, I'm not surprised that we're here. "How?"
"The android ticket taker. When it came by to check our passage id's, it gave me the stop and a new place to go once we disembark." Reading my mind, he adds, "I sent the coordinates to Richard and Reyni."
"Good." We climb off the train transport and head toward the nearest public transport. People are swarming around the main area, and we sweep past them, Spike using his taller form to plow me a path. Just before we enter the transport, I pull him down into a gentle kiss, which he deepens eagerly, and I feel the stirrings of an indescribable desire flowing through me. I open my eyes to search for him and am overcome as usual by the passion in them. "Have I told you how much I love your hair like this. . . all soft and un-styled, and curly?"
"No, but I love you, too, Buffy." He smirks, and I grin.
"Let's go."
We enter the transport, and Spike transfers the coordinates from his wrist computer. In the few seconds until we arrive, I whisper, "Love you." Spike slips an arm around my waist and then, squeezes and releases me, as we face the door.
Dressed in a light green jumper that matches his icy eyes, Prenwick opens the door with his eyes alight. "Welcome to my humble facility. You are about to join an organization that will change the world forever. First, you get a tour." His eyes rake over my small frame, and I suddenly wish that I'd cut my long blond hair short again. "I must say, you look better in your true forms."
An unconscious growl emits from my throat, and the bones in my face start to shift as I glare at him.
He holds up his hands palms toward Spike and me. "Hey. No harm meant." My demon calms. "But I like the spunk you got in your woman, Justin."
Spike doesn't reply. "I'm ready to get started, mate. Amber can take care of herself." Annoyance at Spike flashes through me, but I don't let him show that his change in demeanor affects me. I'm sure he knows without me having to say anything.
Prenwick chuckles, and in a display of trust, he turns his back on us, leading us down a stark, bright hallway that is a stark contrast to the dim cave-like quality of "The Blood Room." He pauses outside a thinly outline door in the wall. "What you're about to see will blow you away."
Then, he simply walks through the door and disappears, presumably on the other side. I glance at Spike. Raising his eyebrows, he shrugs his shoulders and goes through the solid wall without hesitation. Sighing reluctantly, I follow.
Not surprisingly, the wall isn't solid, and I only feel a faint tingle as I close my eyes and rush through.
What does surprise me is what I view when my world is lit again. Thankfully, my jaw stays firmly shut.
I barely hear Prenwick say, "This is 'Rapture.'" He spreads his arms wide and turns around to gesture at the sight before us.
The three of us are standing on an indoor balcony at the top of a large open area that stretches down for over ten stories. The base of the facility is divided into two well-lit parts. The first is a lounge with synthetic plants and large comfortable chairs that would swallow me but would fit the largest demons just perfectly. The other half is a large computer network system, complete with what I recognize as some of the most recent technology though some of the equipment is a bit dated. Frankly, I find it scary how I'm able to recognize things like that now. Buffy of old didn't know zip drive from a hard drive. Aside from the base floor, the different levels each have several rooms with clear glass walls so that I can see what is happening.
Throughout the facility, demons are engaged in various activities. . . some of which I don't understand. Now why didn't I study up on my demon lore like Spike told me? I haven't seen this large a collection of demons since. . .
"Pet, this reminds me of the Initiative. . . only without the bonehead scientists running about." Spike's voice sounds amplified in my head.
"And without the demons in cells," I transmit to Spike. "Spike, what's that demon doing over there?" A demon the color of deep red wine seems to be working on a piece of some sort of technology, and tiny Tinkerbell-esque lights are flashing all around him. "And why does it smell funny in here?" The smell is like a mixture of manure, musk, and the magic from the crime scene from earlier.
Because I'm speaking into his mind, Spike, of course, has no clue where or what I view. "Well, it smells in here because that's what you get for inviting the Lingmith demons in groups of two of more to congregate in one place."
"Oh."
"And where are you looking?"
"Over there."
"Love, that tells me nothing. . . say something out loud, so. . ."
"You may be wondering what is going on here." Prenwick seems to be unnervingly psychic today. "See that Tuopei demon over there." He points to the exact demon I have been studying but attempting not to stare at.
I nod to Prenwick and say internally to Spike, "That one." Spike grunts in reply.
Prenwick continues, "He's learning to fuse his magic with a transport device that he built so that all he has to do is think a thought, and he will be transported anywhere in the world."
"Wow." I'm genuinely stunned.
"You see, our goal is to train demons to use their natural, inborn talents for magic and any other special abilities they might have to improve their lot in life. . . to improve demon lives." Prenwick is starting to sound very scary. "In addition to fusing pure mechanics and technology with magic, we are also attempting to unite magic with other fields, such as the medical field, psychology, the arts, and others. I realize it's a lofty goal, but one that will make things a lot better for the demons in this world. . . to prepare us."
Spike asks the question that I have on the tip of my tongue, "To prepare us for what?" Whenever Spike feels nervous, his normally faded British accent sneaks in a little, and I catch the edge in his voice.
A smile spreads over Prenwick's face. "I'm glad you asked, Miss Summers, Mr. Henderson." He raises his hands and snaps his fingers.
My eyes widen, and my muscles tighten, but before either Spike or I have time to regroup, four large demons of an unknown variety appear behind us seemingly out of nowhere. In a whirl of seconds, Spike and I pinned against the wall, and Prenwick is pacing back and forth in front of us with his hand to his chin in a gesture that reminds me vaguely of Rhonda's thoughtful movement earlier today.
"Now, let's see. What shall I do now that the famed Buffy Summers. . ." Why does everyone call me by my first and last name and attach "famed" to it? ". . . and William the Bloody have attempted to infiltrate? Don't look so shocked. I knew you were coming. In fact, you're only here because I let you get this far. I have something I want to share with you."
He ceases his panther-like march in front of me. His fingers are like ice cubes roving over my cheek, and I hold back a shiver. "I have some thoughts. . . about pleasuring you, Miss Summers."
This time Spike reacts by shifting into vampire face and lunging at Prenwick. The demons virtually throw him back into the wall so that a loud echo flows through the air. Prenwick takes the moment to laugh at Spike, so I use the distraction to chomp down on Prenwick's hand and kick my legs forward, knocking him to the ground. The demons holding me tighten their grip until stars flood my vision, and my knees buckle from the pain.
Prenwick hops lightly to his feet, sucking on the bleeding wound in his hand. He is far from angry. In fact, he laughs. "Cute, very cute, Miss Summers. May I call you 'Buffy?'"
When I just glare at him, eyes burning yellow, he continues, "Well, Buffy, we'll see how you fare after a few days in here. You may just give in to me, yet. But first, we have to finish the tour." His eyes never leave me, and he orders, "Take them to the meeting room. I'll meet you there."
* * *
3000, five minutes later
Spike and I are seated in two synthetic leather chairs across from a large cherry-wood desk in a spacious study. Real paper books, or else the illusion of books, line the walls in floor to ceiling bookcases. A fireplace is nearby with a holographic fire blazing. I know no vampire would have a real fire anywhere near him or her although the glow and smell are amazingly realistic. Two more chairs are positioned behind the desk, no doubt soon to be filled.
The demons who brought us here are long gone, and we are held to the chairs with invisible barriers. To try to break the barrier meant certain death. I am amazed that they have the technology because it is something only the international police force possess.
"Pet?" Spike transmits warily to my brain.
"Yeah?" I try not to sound too tired.
"You okay?"
"Yep. I'm fine. Guess we expected this going in, huh?"
"True. We'll figure a way out of this, I promise. And if we can't figure it out, we know that Reyni and Richard have our location. If we don't. . ."
I finish for him, "Contact them in twenty-four hours, they're contacting the Council and coming after us."
A noise at the door behind us alerts me, and this time, I hear a heartbeat that I know Prenwick doesn't have. This time, my mouth does fall and remain open.
"A-amy?"
Long brown hair, swirling unnaturally about her face and eyes black as inkwells, Willow's fellow-Wiccan friend stands before Spike and me. . . ten centuries after she is supposed to be long dead.
TBC. . . still 3000 (sorry to my dear readers who noticed that I made a typo on the last part. . . it was definitely set in 3000! Okay, next up. . . what's Amy got to do with the plot, and what's the mysterious "Rapture" project? Does it have anything to do with the burned bodies or Lydia? Tune in next!!!
;o) To all my readers: Thanks for the lovely review. . . please tell me what you think so far!
Spike and I board that international transport system after reconvening with Richard and Reyni and also contacting the Council about the current situation. We gave them all the information we had, and Reyni took charge, assuring me that she'd be working on the situation from outside. My stomach is an apprehensive knot because I have no idea what's going to happen, but outwardly, I appear as cool and confident as ever. I can't recall how many years have passed since I felt this ominous about something I'm willingly doing.
Of course, Spike senses my tension as we find our seats. "You okay, love?"
Providing him a tight-lipped smile, I tell him a half-truth, "Yeah."
He cradles my hand in his large one in reassurance. "We'll figure this out."
"Yes, I know." I peer up at him with a question in my eyes. "But will we make it out alive?"
He is honest as usual. "I don't know."
"How will we know when to get off?" The world outside the window is cloaked in darkness. Once we start moving, the windows will close, and we will literally fly from place to place close to instantaneously. The train system is useful mainly because public transports are often overcrowded and not everyone can afford a personal transport. The system is also useful for demon travel and avoidance of international criminal justice.
"I have a feeling we'll know, love. Why don't you get some rest."
As people continue to board, I lean my head on his shoulder, trusting him to protect me. A few moments of stolen dozing are likely to be precious in the long run. His arm is strong and unmoving beneath my head, and I feel my muscles relax against him. Lost in the cloud of muddled thoughts, I notice his strong fingers sweeping slowly and soothingly through my long hair and massaging my scalp.
* * *
3000, about thirty minutes later
"We're here."
My mind is instantly alert as I blink off sleep. "Where are we?"
"New View."
Known for high crime rates, New View is a major city in what used to be North America. Somehow, I'm not surprised that we're here. "How?"
"The android ticket taker. When it came by to check our passage id's, it gave me the stop and a new place to go once we disembark." Reading my mind, he adds, "I sent the coordinates to Richard and Reyni."
"Good." We climb off the train transport and head toward the nearest public transport. People are swarming around the main area, and we sweep past them, Spike using his taller form to plow me a path. Just before we enter the transport, I pull him down into a gentle kiss, which he deepens eagerly, and I feel the stirrings of an indescribable desire flowing through me. I open my eyes to search for him and am overcome as usual by the passion in them. "Have I told you how much I love your hair like this. . . all soft and un-styled, and curly?"
"No, but I love you, too, Buffy." He smirks, and I grin.
"Let's go."
We enter the transport, and Spike transfers the coordinates from his wrist computer. In the few seconds until we arrive, I whisper, "Love you." Spike slips an arm around my waist and then, squeezes and releases me, as we face the door.
Dressed in a light green jumper that matches his icy eyes, Prenwick opens the door with his eyes alight. "Welcome to my humble facility. You are about to join an organization that will change the world forever. First, you get a tour." His eyes rake over my small frame, and I suddenly wish that I'd cut my long blond hair short again. "I must say, you look better in your true forms."
An unconscious growl emits from my throat, and the bones in my face start to shift as I glare at him.
He holds up his hands palms toward Spike and me. "Hey. No harm meant." My demon calms. "But I like the spunk you got in your woman, Justin."
Spike doesn't reply. "I'm ready to get started, mate. Amber can take care of herself." Annoyance at Spike flashes through me, but I don't let him show that his change in demeanor affects me. I'm sure he knows without me having to say anything.
Prenwick chuckles, and in a display of trust, he turns his back on us, leading us down a stark, bright hallway that is a stark contrast to the dim cave-like quality of "The Blood Room." He pauses outside a thinly outline door in the wall. "What you're about to see will blow you away."
Then, he simply walks through the door and disappears, presumably on the other side. I glance at Spike. Raising his eyebrows, he shrugs his shoulders and goes through the solid wall without hesitation. Sighing reluctantly, I follow.
Not surprisingly, the wall isn't solid, and I only feel a faint tingle as I close my eyes and rush through.
What does surprise me is what I view when my world is lit again. Thankfully, my jaw stays firmly shut.
I barely hear Prenwick say, "This is 'Rapture.'" He spreads his arms wide and turns around to gesture at the sight before us.
The three of us are standing on an indoor balcony at the top of a large open area that stretches down for over ten stories. The base of the facility is divided into two well-lit parts. The first is a lounge with synthetic plants and large comfortable chairs that would swallow me but would fit the largest demons just perfectly. The other half is a large computer network system, complete with what I recognize as some of the most recent technology though some of the equipment is a bit dated. Frankly, I find it scary how I'm able to recognize things like that now. Buffy of old didn't know zip drive from a hard drive. Aside from the base floor, the different levels each have several rooms with clear glass walls so that I can see what is happening.
Throughout the facility, demons are engaged in various activities. . . some of which I don't understand. Now why didn't I study up on my demon lore like Spike told me? I haven't seen this large a collection of demons since. . .
"Pet, this reminds me of the Initiative. . . only without the bonehead scientists running about." Spike's voice sounds amplified in my head.
"And without the demons in cells," I transmit to Spike. "Spike, what's that demon doing over there?" A demon the color of deep red wine seems to be working on a piece of some sort of technology, and tiny Tinkerbell-esque lights are flashing all around him. "And why does it smell funny in here?" The smell is like a mixture of manure, musk, and the magic from the crime scene from earlier.
Because I'm speaking into his mind, Spike, of course, has no clue where or what I view. "Well, it smells in here because that's what you get for inviting the Lingmith demons in groups of two of more to congregate in one place."
"Oh."
"And where are you looking?"
"Over there."
"Love, that tells me nothing. . . say something out loud, so. . ."
"You may be wondering what is going on here." Prenwick seems to be unnervingly psychic today. "See that Tuopei demon over there." He points to the exact demon I have been studying but attempting not to stare at.
I nod to Prenwick and say internally to Spike, "That one." Spike grunts in reply.
Prenwick continues, "He's learning to fuse his magic with a transport device that he built so that all he has to do is think a thought, and he will be transported anywhere in the world."
"Wow." I'm genuinely stunned.
"You see, our goal is to train demons to use their natural, inborn talents for magic and any other special abilities they might have to improve their lot in life. . . to improve demon lives." Prenwick is starting to sound very scary. "In addition to fusing pure mechanics and technology with magic, we are also attempting to unite magic with other fields, such as the medical field, psychology, the arts, and others. I realize it's a lofty goal, but one that will make things a lot better for the demons in this world. . . to prepare us."
Spike asks the question that I have on the tip of my tongue, "To prepare us for what?" Whenever Spike feels nervous, his normally faded British accent sneaks in a little, and I catch the edge in his voice.
A smile spreads over Prenwick's face. "I'm glad you asked, Miss Summers, Mr. Henderson." He raises his hands and snaps his fingers.
My eyes widen, and my muscles tighten, but before either Spike or I have time to regroup, four large demons of an unknown variety appear behind us seemingly out of nowhere. In a whirl of seconds, Spike and I pinned against the wall, and Prenwick is pacing back and forth in front of us with his hand to his chin in a gesture that reminds me vaguely of Rhonda's thoughtful movement earlier today.
"Now, let's see. What shall I do now that the famed Buffy Summers. . ." Why does everyone call me by my first and last name and attach "famed" to it? ". . . and William the Bloody have attempted to infiltrate? Don't look so shocked. I knew you were coming. In fact, you're only here because I let you get this far. I have something I want to share with you."
He ceases his panther-like march in front of me. His fingers are like ice cubes roving over my cheek, and I hold back a shiver. "I have some thoughts. . . about pleasuring you, Miss Summers."
This time Spike reacts by shifting into vampire face and lunging at Prenwick. The demons virtually throw him back into the wall so that a loud echo flows through the air. Prenwick takes the moment to laugh at Spike, so I use the distraction to chomp down on Prenwick's hand and kick my legs forward, knocking him to the ground. The demons holding me tighten their grip until stars flood my vision, and my knees buckle from the pain.
Prenwick hops lightly to his feet, sucking on the bleeding wound in his hand. He is far from angry. In fact, he laughs. "Cute, very cute, Miss Summers. May I call you 'Buffy?'"
When I just glare at him, eyes burning yellow, he continues, "Well, Buffy, we'll see how you fare after a few days in here. You may just give in to me, yet. But first, we have to finish the tour." His eyes never leave me, and he orders, "Take them to the meeting room. I'll meet you there."
* * *
3000, five minutes later
Spike and I are seated in two synthetic leather chairs across from a large cherry-wood desk in a spacious study. Real paper books, or else the illusion of books, line the walls in floor to ceiling bookcases. A fireplace is nearby with a holographic fire blazing. I know no vampire would have a real fire anywhere near him or her although the glow and smell are amazingly realistic. Two more chairs are positioned behind the desk, no doubt soon to be filled.
The demons who brought us here are long gone, and we are held to the chairs with invisible barriers. To try to break the barrier meant certain death. I am amazed that they have the technology because it is something only the international police force possess.
"Pet?" Spike transmits warily to my brain.
"Yeah?" I try not to sound too tired.
"You okay?"
"Yep. I'm fine. Guess we expected this going in, huh?"
"True. We'll figure a way out of this, I promise. And if we can't figure it out, we know that Reyni and Richard have our location. If we don't. . ."
I finish for him, "Contact them in twenty-four hours, they're contacting the Council and coming after us."
A noise at the door behind us alerts me, and this time, I hear a heartbeat that I know Prenwick doesn't have. This time, my mouth does fall and remain open.
"A-amy?"
Long brown hair, swirling unnaturally about her face and eyes black as inkwells, Willow's fellow-Wiccan friend stands before Spike and me. . . ten centuries after she is supposed to be long dead.
TBC. . . still 3000 (sorry to my dear readers who noticed that I made a typo on the last part. . . it was definitely set in 3000! Okay, next up. . . what's Amy got to do with the plot, and what's the mysterious "Rapture" project? Does it have anything to do with the burned bodies or Lydia? Tune in next!!!
;o) To all my readers: Thanks for the lovely review. . . please tell me what you think so far!