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Authors: Andrew Hunter
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the vampire embassy. The two of them passed through the doors into the cool shadows of the largest theater that Garrett had ever seen. Hundreds of chairs and tables were arranged neatly upon the multi-leveled red-carpeted terraces overlooking the broad, circular stage below. The stage was formed of polished, blood-red wooden planks. It stood empty, save for six soot-stained braziers that had been arranged around its perimeter. Smoldering coals within these bronze bowls caused the air above to shimmer with heat.
Marla chose a small table with four black leather-cushioned chairs. Only a single rock crystal vase adorned the table. It contained a solitary black rose, and the water in its base gave off a faint, blue-green glow. Garrett pulled out one of the chairs and smiled, waiting for Marla to take a seat before taking the seat next to her.
A flicker of motion from the crystal vase caught his eye, and Garrett leaned close enough to make out the tiny lambent sea creatures that swam and swirled in the little container of water. Like those at the neighboring tables, these miniature aquariums gave off just enough light to illuminate the surface of the black table cloth on which they sat and little else.
“That’s nice,” Garrett said, pointing at the vase.
Marla seemed to notice it for the first time and nodded her agreement. She looked around, surveying the faces of the other vampires as they entered the theater.
“Do you know all these vampires?” Garrett asked.
“Some of them,” Marla said. She lifted her hand to wave at someone across the room, but Garrett saw no sign that she was recognized by any of the pale skinned and somberly-dressed mob that was filing into the room.
“You guys really like black and gray,” Garrett noted.
Marla laughed. “I know it seems a bit gloomy,” she admitted, “but you must understand that we do not see colors the same way that you do.”
“What?” Garrett asked.
Marla gestured toward the dress of a lady who had taken a seat two tables over and slightly below them. “What color would you say she is wearing?” she asked.
“Um… black?” Garrett said.
“And what color am I wearing?” she asked him.
“Looks black to me,” Garrett answered.
“But they are not the same,” she said, “There are subtle variations in the weave and fabric. Mine, for example, contains the faintest trace of violet… one in every hundredth fiber. Hers is woven with a hint of emerald green. That gentleman’s jacket has a blush of red to it. Can you tell the difference?”
Garrett stared at the pair of vampires at the other table until the man turned and gave him a stern look. Garrett waved back, sheepishly, and admitted to Marla that he could discern no difference at all in the various shades of black.
“The effect is subtle, I will admit,” Marla said, “but, to our eyes, it is like a dark rainbow of meaning and expression.”
“What does yours mean?” Garrett asked, “The violet, I mean.”
Marla flushed pink. She lowered her voice and leaned across the table to speak. “It means that I am not seeking… attention,” she said.
“You mean, like, you don’t want people to notice you?” he asked.
Marla wrinkled her nose again. “It means I am not seeking masculine attention.”
Garrett stared at her in silence for a moment, trying to work out her meaning. He squinted at her. “Huh?” he said.
Marla sighed and leaned closer still. “It means that I am not looking for a boyfriend! ” she whispered.
Garrett felt his stomach turn over and his heart felt as if it had missed a beat. After a moment, he managed to rasp out a dry, disappointed, “Oh…”
Marla rolled her eyes and squeezed his hand. “…Because I already have one, you goose!” she said and then nodded meaningfully toward him.
“Oh…” he said. Then his mood brightened as the meaning of her words wormed its way into his consciousness, “Oh!”
Marla laughed, and Garrett grinned.
Suddenly, a
Marla chose a small table with four black leather-cushioned chairs. Only a single rock crystal vase adorned the table. It contained a solitary black rose, and the water in its base gave off a faint, blue-green glow. Garrett pulled out one of the chairs and smiled, waiting for Marla to take a seat before taking the seat next to her.
A flicker of motion from the crystal vase caught his eye, and Garrett leaned close enough to make out the tiny lambent sea creatures that swam and swirled in the little container of water. Like those at the neighboring tables, these miniature aquariums gave off just enough light to illuminate the surface of the black table cloth on which they sat and little else.
“That’s nice,” Garrett said, pointing at the vase.
Marla seemed to notice it for the first time and nodded her agreement. She looked around, surveying the faces of the other vampires as they entered the theater.
“Do you know all these vampires?” Garrett asked.
“Some of them,” Marla said. She lifted her hand to wave at someone across the room, but Garrett saw no sign that she was recognized by any of the pale skinned and somberly-dressed mob that was filing into the room.
“You guys really like black and gray,” Garrett noted.
Marla laughed. “I know it seems a bit gloomy,” she admitted, “but you must understand that we do not see colors the same way that you do.”
“What?” Garrett asked.
Marla gestured toward the dress of a lady who had taken a seat two tables over and slightly below them. “What color would you say she is wearing?” she asked.
“Um… black?” Garrett said.
“And what color am I wearing?” she asked him.
“Looks black to me,” Garrett answered.
“But they are not the same,” she said, “There are subtle variations in the weave and fabric. Mine, for example, contains the faintest trace of violet… one in every hundredth fiber. Hers is woven with a hint of emerald green. That gentleman’s jacket has a blush of red to it. Can you tell the difference?”
Garrett stared at the pair of vampires at the other table until the man turned and gave him a stern look. Garrett waved back, sheepishly, and admitted to Marla that he could discern no difference at all in the various shades of black.
“The effect is subtle, I will admit,” Marla said, “but, to our eyes, it is like a dark rainbow of meaning and expression.”
“What does yours mean?” Garrett asked, “The violet, I mean.”
Marla flushed pink. She lowered her voice and leaned across the table to speak. “It means that I am not seeking… attention,” she said.
“You mean, like, you don’t want people to notice you?” he asked.
Marla wrinkled her nose again. “It means I am not seeking masculine attention.”
Garrett stared at her in silence for a moment, trying to work out her meaning. He squinted at her. “Huh?” he said.
Marla sighed and leaned closer still. “It means that I am not looking for a boyfriend! ” she whispered.
Garrett felt his stomach turn over and his heart felt as if it had missed a beat. After a moment, he managed to rasp out a dry, disappointed, “Oh…”
Marla rolled her eyes and squeezed his hand. “…Because I already have one, you goose!” she said and then nodded meaningfully toward him.
“Oh…” he said. Then his mood brightened as the meaning of her words wormed its way into his consciousness, “Oh!”
Marla laughed, and Garrett grinned.
Suddenly, a
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