Plínio Castro Saturnian

Vampire King The room was kept out complete darkness only by the light of stars, and by a solitary flame kept by an oil lamp on a table behind the book shelf. The young face was in the darkness, staring at the cat on the window balcony. The feline sustained the look with impertinent familiarity for a while, before decide to jump to the floor and go looking for something more interesting in the shadows. It weighted one quarter of what a large human would, had big blue eyes and lynx ears, and the fur smoke red with very few tiny spots dark as coagulated blood, moving to concentrate in the three dark paws. The remaining paw was snow white, a frontal right fail in the otherwise perfect design. Like most animals born on Gerunda the feline had parents who came from lineages that started at a DNA printing back in the early days of colonization. Heliopolis Age, when all humans in the planet had to live in flying cities. Designed to endure comfortably the gravity of Gerunda, three times stronger than what is experienced on Earth, the animal had all the grace and agility of Earthling felines, on slightly ticker legs. The night-vision had been improved by genetic therapy a couple of generations before. It was able to see the young man sitting in the dark almost perfectly, to the detail of colour, useless as that detail could have been for felines in the wild. The owner of that young face could see himself in the mirrors of those feline eyes as well, and the image lingered on his mind after the animal pass behind the massive office desk of solid wood. As always he was dressed in clothes he would have used only as fantasy costume, before. Except that no costume was ever so elaborated, well designed or masterfully crafted. It was what a nobleman from France would have used around the year 1460 to some important event in the Royal Court. Basically. There was some carbon-fibre, other syntactic materials in details, and something more alien than that too, specially in the jewels. The decoration in the room followed that mix of shapes and textures dominated by Earthling European motives that someone once described as “it is what you would get from a time-traveller thief who could travel freely to any moment of Europe between the years 900 and 1900, but nowhere, or when, else”. Plínio didn’t actually hated the style, he just had a hard time trying to take it seriously sometimes. It was his office, his house and domains, so he had to take it all seriously. The place and its meaning was deadly serious to a vast number of people. Relevant in global scale, and beyond! He knew that, and that was the reason why he had decided to do those biographic records.
“My name is Plínio Castro Saturnian. I was born under the Light of Lira in a room of glass walls in the floating city of Red Mustang, one among the many that no longer exist. Was dismantled nine years after the foundation of Austin, Capital of Amaterasu. Flying cities where no longer needed them. I was 12 years old when my old sister contacted the first vampires, the Elder Vampires who had been sleeping since their alien civilization collapsed. My sister and her mage companions had a hard time selling the importance of their contact to city captains and other influential people. Our father was chief-engineer in Red Mustang main engine room, and that may have been what earned us the honour of being among the first non-mage humans to talk with aliens. I will never know what led my benefactor to the conclusion that I was decent material for his gift. Whatever it was, short after I reach the age of 23 the alien made me the offer to became one of his representatives in human society. Details where not clear, mostly because that arrangement was too new and experimental. No one knew how things would work, but the basic lines where acceptable to me. Only much later I realized that I had become a “Vampire King”. Those expressions emerged by themselves I believe, and they were used as a joke by us. Even them I think that style that would become crystalized as the notorious image of our people was gaining popularity already. Some feudal mindset felt almost natural, inevitable, with the Mecha-Families demanding hereditary rights and privileges that no same govern would dream to deny them. It escaped my attention, understandably, given the importance and the terrifying scale of the task left on my hands. On the hands of other “Vampire Kings” as well. We are the ones transformed directly by Elder Vampires. Our benefactors have their friendships and their conflicts, their bonds of hate and loyalty with each other. We inherited a lot of that, without a second taught. They gave us their “blood”, in the lack of better word, and in that came more knowledge about the nature of their existence, and magic, than I can hope to digest in a million years. The power to create new vampires, and share some powers with them, is ours. However, those created by us cannot transform others in vampires. They can only prolong the human life, and share a small portion of their power, but in doing that they taint the minds of those they give their blood, reducing them to a state of defenceless obedience. My benefactor had little patience for the details about how to organize his “diplomatic head-quarters”. As far as I understand that’s the prevalent inclination among Elder Vampires. Therefore, I did what seemed best at the time, what felt right. Or less wrong. The same had to do most other “Vampire Kings”: may Amaterasu’s grace burn to inexistence who invented the expression! And after half dozen centuries, give or take a few decades, we had what you call “nocturnal society” working. We need to hunt humans from time to time, and we complement our diet with human blood offered willingly and animal blood too. From the point of view of human governments that’s more than acceptable, you can say that’s a sweet deal, as long as we pay for our hunting privileges. Ours is the obligation to fight the shadows every night. Those hungry mindless aliens how are not large enough to be practical for Mechas to fight. I seldom leave the stronghold to join the fight in person. Most of us don’t. My direct attention is in the ritual of creation, in the research of new powers inside my blood, and in administrate the selection of new vampires and their initial education. Some now and them I also have to deal with criminals, since mine is the last word about all issues related to vampires created by my blood inside my territory. Naturally, when vampires from my blood are caught in someone else’s territory, or when those of other bloods came here to cause trouble; we have shady grey areas. Left unregulated to grant us opportunity to share the pleasure of each other’s voices. Whenever possible I delegate those pleasures for my “Dukes”, “Barons” or what ever they are calling themselves those nights! Most the “real” work is actually done by those fellows. The status of representative of their Nocturnal King is enough reward to make those kind people glad and thankful for working every second of their endless existences, almost, doing the tasks we “Kings” and “Queens” want to not do. To not remember they even exist, actually, most nights. In our more perfect version of feudalism is magically impossible for a Duke to “became king” and the only way for a “knight” to take the place of the Duke he server would be by having that change in power determined by the King. Whit that solid hierarchy magically granted by the nature of vampirism we get to enjoy fairly predictable relations. Loyalty is a given, almost never fails. My “nocturnal children” could gain nothing in betraying me. Well, we still try to turn each other children against their Kings. To get spies and agents in each other’s strongholds. It is almost impossible, but not quite. Perhaps we only need something to distract ourselves. Mostly.”
_So, you have power over life and death of any human vampire in your domains. Yet, you cannot change their fashion in clothes and decoration. Poor, poor, baby.
The voice came from the dark line where the wall where the window was met the one facing Plínio. A woman walked from that corner, as if it was a corridor. Slim and delicate, with green lips matching her eyes but many tones darker than them. She was less beautiful than exotic, and her age was hard to guess. On her skin there was a long large dress of what could pass for silk, neither as dark as her lips nor as light as her eyes, but in the same colour. The hair was combed in what could be a concession to local taste, but that was all.
_That’s how I sound? I have to think about that. How long…
She stepped where the cat had been sitting, and opened the window to look at the stars.
_Since you started looking yourself in your cat’s eyes. Your narcissistic mood captured my attention tonight. By the way, still in the subject narcissism, Vicko sends you his regards.
Vicko was her best friend, lover or uncle, depending on what you decide to believe. The affinities between Elder Vampires are really nothing more than metaphorical, when described by human terms.
True is that even Plínio, who was in the most privileged position that exists to understand the aliens, lacked the necessary insight to understand the basic.
Those with an impar number of “heads” in their natural form take masculine shapes and personalities when they dress human shape. Those with a pair number go for female. However, most vampire Kings are of the opinion, and Plínio is no exception, that those aliens do not reproduce in sexual way. However, they do that, or used to if they lost this ability for good. What they decided to represent by sexual identities and anatomy must be meaningful and constant, to each individual over time, but is not likely to be related with reproduction.
Neither is it hierarchical. That much is clear enough. The number of “arms” or “tentacles” in the natural cylindric shape of them marks hierarchy, and is indication of age. That’s well understood, as much as anything can be. The number of heads has no influence on it.
The night was hot, and the smell of wild flowers in the wind was strong. She smiled, he waited. _You don’t understand why your “be-ne-fac-tor” chose you, them. After all those years? You are his first, one of the oldest, you know!
_Well, I understand the need for humans to do what I do. Why that is better done by voluntaries than would be by someone who had to be coerced. I suppose I was better than many, considering my family connection and my curiosity. The affinity for magic and the incapacity to use it may have influenced the decision, it is a combination that makes some parts of the job easier. All that considered, I am sure that Vicko had hundreds of best alternatives, thousands who would be equivalent to me. And he only took 9 under his wing.
_Silly thought! Your narcissism and lack of social skills played a much greater part in the decision than any of that, King Plínio. Probably! Because he sees himself in those aspects of your personality, obviously. There was one other reason, maybe, but I cannot say for sure how important that was at the time.
_Another reason.
_Yes.
_That is…?
_I asked him. As a favour.
_Why?
_Because I wanted you. Sexually. The words hanged in the air, for an odd instant. The loud, unquestionable, confirmation sound of the fine quality of a joke followed.
When it ended, she was sitting on his lap. _But I am serious! She managed to say, and continue between smiles.
_Not like you would expect from a female from your specie, perhaps. It’s not the hormonal and bio-electric discharge of released tension to me: that goes without saying. How could it be? That does not mean it is not, important, and interesting. By them I had started experiencing this plot role of sexual arousal with you already, and would have been troublesome to change partner so suddenly.
They kissed for a long, wheat, time. A couple of hours later the conversation restarted where it had stopped. In a different room.
_You had not even designed your human shape when I was transformed!
_Yes. So what? You had started undressing me with your hungry eyes all the same…
_Had I?
_I believe so! Probably. Anyway, it was a too experimental process at the time, because we knew too little about your basic physiology still. I lacked the authority to transform humans, would not get it for centuries. That’s why I had to ask him this favour. I believe he liked you for his own reason, once he considered my request. Following a different kind of plot.
_I am glad things evolved that way. Would not work well for me if was the other way around.
_I count myself dully flattered by that! Charming lover.
Having said that, she raised from the bed, and walked back to the shadows beyond the nearest corner.

King Plínio has a background as aristocratic as you could ask for. The Castro family used to rule as de facto hereditary Presidents of Cuba before Baby Steps Age, while the Saturnian family was forged in the disputes for power during the early days of colonization of Saturn and its surroundings, in the first quarter of Baby Steps. Strong political ties, with a reputation of being ruthless and on the same time deeply involved in religious matters. 
     His ancestors where high officials in a de facto hereditary hierarchy inside the space vessel that brought them from Solar System to here. They earned important positions among the engineers and scientists ruling the Heliopolis as an Executive Table formed in a hurry under desperate circumstances. 
     Plínio was a talented boy, with high results in intelligent tests, shy and a bit ill tempered. Very beautiful for the current standards in the Heliopolis. Both him and his elder sister dedicated a lot of time to research and practice mystical traditions, ceremonial magic from A. Crowley and similares. However, he failed in obtain the results his sister achieved. 
      She became one of the first human mages, while him (as a human) only was able to enter the Astral Plane with her assistance. And never advanced beyond retain confuse memories from such adventures. 
       When he was offered the chance to became a vampire all that became less important. Since the powers that came with that transformation are many. Rare and epic in scale.