Read Interzone #244 Jan - Feb 2013 for Free Online Page B

– and only – poetry collection, Remnants of God , into Shimshon’s hands. She hissed, a sound Achimwene suspected was not only in the audible range but went deeper, in the non-sound of digital communication, for Shimshon’s face went pale and he said, “Get…out!” in a strangled whisper as Carmel smiled at him, flashing her small, sharp teeth.
    They left. They crossed the street and stood outside a cheap cosmetics surgery booth, offering wrinkles erased or tentacles grafted, next to a handwritten sign that said gone for lunch . “Verboten?” Achimwene said. “Hagiratech?”
    “Forbidden,” Carmel said. “The sort of wildtech that ends up on Jettisoned, from the exodus ships.”
    “What you are,” he said.
    “Yes. I looked, myself, you know. But it is like you said. Holes in the Conversation. Did we learn nothing useful?”
    “No,” he said. Then, “Yes.”
    She smiled. “Which is it?”
    Military history , Shimshon had said. And no one knew better than him how to classify a thing into its genre. And – robotniks .
    “We need to find us,” Achimwene said, “an ex-soldier.” He smiled without humour. “Better brush up on your Battle Yiddish,” he said.
    * *
    “Ezekiel.”
    “Achimwene.”
    “I brought…vodka. And spare parts.” He had bought them in Tel Aviv, on Allenby, at great expense. Robotnik parts were not easy to come by.
    Ezekiel looked at him without expression. His face was metal smooth. It never smiled. His body was mostly metal. It was rusted. It creaked when he walked. He ignored the proffered offerings. Turned his head. “You brought her ?” he said. “ Here ?”
    Carmel stared at the robotnik in curiosity. They were at the heart of the old station, a burned down ancient bus platform open to the sky. Achimwene knew platforms continued down below, that the robotniks – ex-soldiers, cyborged humans, present day beggars and dealers in Crucifixation and stolen goods – made their base down there. But there he could not go. Ezekiel met him above-ground. A drum with fire burning, the flames reflected in the dull metal of the robotnik’s face. “I saw your kind,” Carmel said. “On Mars. In Tong Yun City. Begging.”
    “And I saw your kind,” the robotnik said. “In the sands of the Sinai, in the war. Begging. Begging for their lives, as we decapitated them and stuck a stake through their hearts and watched them die.”
    “Jesus Elron, Ezekiel!”
    The robotnik ignored his exclamation. “I had heard,” he said. “That one came. Here. Strigoi . But I did not believe! The defence systems would have picked her up. Should have eliminated her.”
    “They didn’t,” Achimwene said.
    “Yes…”
    “Do you know why?”
    The robotnik stared at him. Then he gave a short laugh and accepted the bottle of vodka. “You guess they let her through? The Others?”
    Achimwene shrugged. “It’s the only answer that makes sense.”
    “And you want to know why.”
    “Call me curious.”
    “I call you a fool,” the robotnik said, without malice. “And you not even noded. She still has an effect on you?”
    “ She has a name,” Carmel said, acidly. Ezekiel ignored her. “You’re a collector of old stories, aren’t you, Achimwene,” he said. “Now you came to collect mine?”
    Achimwene just shrugged. The robotnik took a deep slug of vodka and said, “So, nu? What do you want to know?”
    “Tell me about Nosferatu,” Achimwene said.
    * *
    SHANGRI-LA VIRUS, the. Bio-weapon developed in the GOLDEN TRIANGLE and used during the UNOFFICIAL WAR. Transmission mechanisms included sexual intercourse (99%–100%), by air (50%–60%), by water (30%–35%), through saliva (15%–20%) and by touch (5%–6%). Used most memorably during the LONG CHENG ATTACK (for which also see LAOS; RAVENZ; THE KLAN KLANDESTINE). The weapon curtailed aggression in humans, making them peaceable and docile. All known samples destroyed in the Unofficial War, along with the city of Long Cheng.
    * *
    “We