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Valerian notices me gawking at the uber and scowls.
What’s this? Is he actually jealous?
“The morgue is on the top floor,” the uber says—and even his voice is pleasant to the ear. Looking at Valerian, he adds, “I was told you’d be in command.”
The unspoken part seems to be that the Senate Guard thinks he should be in charge, but the stupid politicians pucked everything up as usual.
“Stay close to me,” Valerian growls and strides for the elevator.
Ariel, Kit, and even Itzel give the Senate Guard appreciative glances as we follow.
On the ride down, Valerian shares the info the Senate provided about the mortician in charge of the place, such as his name and how much he paid in taxes last year.
I wonder what use that last part is to us.
When we walk in, the morgue looks exactly how they’re portrayed in the media on Gomorrah—which is not at all like the ones on Earth. The bodies of the departed are not kept in metal drawers but on tiers of floating-in-the-air slabs. There’s no need for refrigeration, as each has been preserved using a special plastination procedure that keeps them from decomposing for many years.
The three options for burial on Gomorrah are, in order of popularity: cremation, going into the ground at the enormous cemetery on the other side of the planet, or getting eaten by a few Cognizant types that are into that sort of thing—which usually means a financial reward for the departed’s family.
The chubby mortician hovering over a not-yet-preserved body isn’t aware of us.
The Enforcers and the Guard look at Valerian.
“Not him,” Valerian says, and the mortician remains none the wiser.
We check the rest of the morgue to see if there’s any other staff we can look at, but find none. Retracing our steps, we leave the Enforcers and the Senate Guard to watch the ins-and-outs in this morgue and fly to the next location on the list.
Again, we’re met with Enforcers and one of the ubers from the Senate Guard, and again the mortician can’t be our culprit—he’s a dwarf.
No luck in the next morgue either. Or the one after that.
When we land on the next roof, I recognize one of the Enforcers—he’s the guy who was watching Hans the werewolf and chopped off his finger.
“Hi again,” the vamp in question says to me.
“Virgil, this is Bailey,” Valerian says, giving the Enforcer a disapproving stare.
The rest of the Enforcers, as well as the Senate Guard dude, introduce themselves.
Since I’m not good with names, I only remember Virgil’s name and that of the uber—Onassis.
Like before, Ariel pretends the vampires don’t exist and stares at Onassis’s drool-worthy butt as we make our way to the elevator.
“This mortician’s name is Wrakar,” Valerian says, reading the info in his VR. Everyone looks at him, and he tells us how much money Wrakar made the prior year and other not-so-useful details.
Reaching the floor the morgue is located on, we confidently walk in.
“Wait,” Felix whispers when the first body comes into view. “Those marks on the body weren’t there in the other morgues.”
He’s right. The marks are actually carvings in the flesh that are lit from the inside with some strange energy.
Is this some fancy burial procedure I’ve never heard of? If the intent was to make the departed look more festive, it’s an epic fail. The carvings make the body appear macabre instead.
Spotting the markings, Ariel goes vampire pale. “Not again,” she breathes, backing away.
I’m about to ask her what’s happening when a bolt of energy hits Virgil and the other Enforcers.
For a second, the vampires look stunned. Then, without a warning, the Enforcer closest to Valerian lashes out with his sword.
By some miracle, Valerian dodges to the left—which puts his face right in the trajectory of another Enforcer’s fist.
The impact of knuckles striking bone is audible.
Valerian flies up and crashes to the ground in an unmoving heap.
Chapter Twenty-One
No. Not Valerian.
My heart feels like it’s imploding.
I can’t lose him like this. He’s fine. He has to be.
There’s no time to check on him or ponder what the puck has just happened. Maybe the Senate has betrayed us, or maybe the Enforcers are somehow part of Icelus—it doesn’t matter. Priority number one is survival and helping Valerian.
I yank out my gun and shoot the Enforcer who punched him.
Nothing happens.
I flip the nonlethal setting to kill mode and shoot again.
Still nothing.
Puck. I guess you can’t kill a vampire with this tech.
Onassis must know the same thing. Instead of bothering with the gun, he takes out his sword and slashes at the Enforcer I just tried to shoot.
The Enforcer’s head rolls away.
Whew. At least the Senate Guard is on our side.
Another Enforcer attacks Ariel. She stabs him with a knife, and Kit morphs into a cyclops and knocks another Enforcer off his feet before he gets the upper hand. At the same time, Itzel grows a ball of lightning on her palms and hurls it at the chest of the Enforcer who tried to behead Valerian earlier, while Felix lowers the faceplate of his robot suit and punches the Enforcer nearest him.
