Obligatory disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing or RAND. I make no money from this, ergo, if you try to sue, I will rip out your throat.
UPS – Unmanned Perimeter Sensor
The blood. The smell of blood. Hunger was clawing its way up her throat, the desire to drink, to bathe, to immerse herself in the blood, its lust…fingers curled up in a desperate show of control, Sir Integra sat at the edge of her bed, swaying back and forth. An unexpected side effect of the neural link, the unshielded emotions and sensations of her vampires spilled into Integra's mind.
This was the third dawn she had spent like this, the time when Alucard and the policegirl drifted away from consciousness and towards the unknowing the undead called sleep. Those few minutes were, for Integra, Hell on Earth, for she could smell her own blood beating through her veins.
Certain parts of her mind still felt raw from the surgery, certain thought processes sending a trill of fire down her spine. She had been told that as she healed, the residual echo effects would go away of their own accord, and she would gain a greater familiarity with the neural link's properties. So far the effects had been increasing, not diminishing.
Integra sighed with tiredness and relief as the last of the bloodlust faded from her mind. She stood up, gracefully, her hands reaching for the glasses perched on her night table. What a way to wake up.
"So the bloodlust did go away?"
"Yes. But I am not experiencing anything more than the most basic interface between HellNet and myself. Simple tasks like taking the reading from an UPS takes more than a full minute."
"I believe that due to your sensitization to true telepathic contact, especially from a young age, you have developed certain barriers in your mind that are preventing you from interfacing with the Network."
"And?"
"Just get used to working with the system. You'll be comfortable enough with it to let down your barriers naturally, given some time."
"Is there no faster way? I lost a soldier last night. He could have been saved had the Network been fully operational."
"Sir Hellsing." For the first time, the researcher used her title. "Your safety is paramount. This corporation will not partake of any action that endangers you physical or mental health. Pulling down pre-conditioned childhood barriers by forceful therapy will be construed as a harmful action. Please follow our recommendations."
"Dr. Ravindran?"
"I'm doing this against my own judgment, Sir Integra. You understand that the drug is a psychotic, and it may have unprecedented side effects?" The middle-aged man's concern came through with his thick Indian accent.
"I'm not a child, Doctor. I am doing this, and I know the risks full well. Administer it. Now."
"She is driving herself too far."
"My Master knows what is good for her, Angel of Death."
"After last night's episode, I'm not so sure, Alucard. Not in this matter."
"Anything she does, she does well."
"Indeed."
Integra heard the whispers through the tips of her fingers. Every sound was like a caress of wind on her skin, every breath taken by the people in the room she felt as a rhythmic tingle in the palms of her hands. Integra opened her eyes, and to her, the sound of her own fluttering lashes was like the stroke of a lover's fingertips on her brow. Instantly, with a shuddering rustle of his coat, Alucard was by her side, followed more slowly by the aging butler.
"Is this how it is for Vampires?" she asked.
"No, this is how it is for druggies." There was a tone of recrimination in Alucard's voice. "Are you interfacing with your computer any better now?" Sarcasm was not far behind.
Bemusedly, Integra reached. Clear pictures formed inside her head as she dipped wantonly into the files stored on her personal computer. Simultaneously, she could feel an urgent need from the direction of the household security system, a need to disgorge its information into her mind. "Yes!" The sound was almost a moan.
"I'll get the Doctor, then, Sir," said a slightly shocked Walter, and exited the room.
"And I'll get to sleep, if Master grants her permission."
"Go…" sighed Integra. Go! If her verbal voice was a sigh, her mental voice retained all its usual snappish firmness.
As Alucard disappeared into the far wall of Integra's room, she swore she could hear the sound of his body melting to the stone. And, as simply as that, she saw how very easy it would be to dip into her servant's mind.
Upon the crosses, row on rowSpirits, solid in their anguish, lie impaled upon sharp cross-shaped spikes. Neat rows of thousands – almost, she could hear the whispering voices, some familiar, some so very alien. She walked upon the blood soaked ground, her hair the only surface off which the dull moonlight glinted. So very surreal. In the distance, far across the field of orderly crosses, there stood a castle. Or was it a cathedral? And so we breach, so stealthy still, the castles of their minds.
"Your lack of self control is exemplary, Master." For the very first time in his interactions with Integra, the Vampire's voice was cold.
"Alucard." Integra was calm. "Beautiful landscape. Did Magritte ever tiptoe through here?" The Vampire snarled silently. "Won't you give me a tour?"
"Master. Get. Out. Of. My. Mind."
"Turnabout is certainly fair play, Alucard."
…to be continued. Perhaps later tonight.