NAME OF SPEC:TRUTH AND THE SUPREMES
BY:JORDACHE QUADES
E-MAIL:jordax79@hotmail.com

DISCLAIMER:This is a non-profit fan fiction and is not meant to infringe 
on the copyright of Anne Rice or her publishers.

SPOILER: For QOtD 
SUMMARY: Khayman and Gabrielle...in a scene set after QOD.

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London,England.
Khayman;

He enjoyed reading Sherlock Holmes stories. He only wished that he could 
have had a part to play in the mysteries, perhaps the mystery of the 
Sussex vampire might have been his to exploit. He laughed.On the 
whole,he enjoyed reading fiction....he felt a sense of relation with the 
characters,because he was fiction too...they all were,to the mortal 
world. And the mortal world was much, even in the vastness of the Earth 
where so many worlds co-existed with one another.
His world,the sphere of the blood drinker, was a desolate one indeed.
His world enlarged when he read fiction. They were all characters in a 
story,after all. The difference was, perhaps,that mortals were players 
on a stage. It didn't take great Shakespeare logic to see that mortals 
were alive and kicking in their drama of life....all searching for their 
individual grand act.

Putting down his book,he peered through the closed drapes of the little 
room he was staying in. 
He could do something tonight...he could go again and walk on Holmes' 
Baker street,or perhaps he could follow the same logic and pay a visit 
to his counterparts at Madame Tussaud's, a house of wax figures such as 
he.
Ah,London. A quaint city for a vampire such as he. Some nights he would 
spend the last hours of the mortal evening on the subway, marvelling and 
enjoying the mechanical movement of teh trains as they rushed through 
the tunnels of the underworld. The sound they made on the rails wre like 
the drums he sometimes heard in his memories. He would amuse himself by 
changing lines at strategic points, travelling the entire circuit 
without ever coming out of a station. He would sit in the trains and 
watch the passengers as they hustled along.It was all very interesting 
to him. He loved subways and the London underground was his favourite in 
the world.

Tonight, it was too late for that,however. It was even too late for him 
to partake in another activity he so enjoyed here in London...theatre 
going. Haymarket, a little area of London, was the mecca of theatre 
houses. He enjoyed attending operas and concerts, where he would listen 
with his preternatural hearing to the precise notes and tones of the 
music, and then like Mozart, he would return to his room and write the 
entire repertoire out. He enjoyed this, but he got no musical 
satisfaction from it. He was no musician and in fact, he didi not tend 
to this type of music...his music was the beating of the drums. His 
music was the music of the spirits in ancient Egypt. His music was the 
pulsing of human hearts.
Ah, it was a night for walking, he thought. He would walk the hours away 
and amuse himself with whatever came his way.

                  ******************************
In the streets, he passed many of the little underground pubs, each of 
them radiating heta and human pulsing to him. A noisy energy passed 
across his thoughts like silk. Like soft little screams. Tempting to be 
with themm to rub against their heat, to drown in their sea of 
perspective.
But only to find,as he did always, that his sorrows would learn to swim 
in this sea and drown and die away for him. It was always there, in a 
confused way, like the presence of pain beneath opiate.
He walked on into the night,finally stopping at a peaceful little park, 
Holland Park. As he slipped silently through the gates, he knew that he 
would find the solace that he wanted here. It was a pretty park, with 
its tree lined pathways, the open air theatre and even the beautiful 
benches encased in the wall. Such things reminded him of Rome, another 
city that he loved. Rome,the city of fountains. He had a 
desire now to be at the glorious Trevi fountain which was so bewitching 
in the night, to reach down below the surface of the water and feel the 
little coins put there by mortals, like little blessings.

He might go there now.He would have gone already, if it were not for a 
disturbance that stopped him.
There was another being close by. An immortal heart. A vampire.
He was overjoyed.
But the joy always passes. It did  as he investigated the creature...a 
dark haired one in severe dark coloured clothing. It was a she. He did 
not know this one.
Her mind was an empty canvas, of course.
She was still in the street, but looked as if on the verge of entering 
the park. 
He watched as she stealthed into the park, sauntering in a boyish 
manner...alert and ready. But she did not sense him just yet. He would 
not surprise her either....he would wait and watch her..there was 
something curious about her. She seemed strangely familiar in her 
manner, but her appearance deceived him.

They met at the centre of the park. It was a warm greeting. They knew 
each other.
He heard her words that she willed to him.
Dark hair over blonde, monsieur.
It was Gabrielle.
Warm thoughts for this one. He sent his apologies for his poor show of 
manners, as they exchanged thoughts and acknowledged each other.
Gabrielle....had come to London to glimpse her son...she had seen him 
with David. She confessed to not not liking London and even more, she 
was not in the habit of checking up on her son. She would do it every 
few decades when she felt the need to  just see him. She would never let 
him see her...it would do him no good. She had a cold facade about her, 
but she never forgot her love for her son. On her wanderings through the 
world wher she would spend years searching for reason and spheres in 
aspects of nature and life, she knew that she had it because of her son 
and what he did for her so many years ago.
Khayman understood. He liked this one, Gabrielle. She would survive as 
long as her brat prince and perhaps even longer. There was an uncommon 
relationship between fledgling and master here...mother and son. It was 
stronger perhaps than that of two lovers. 

"And how is your son, then?", Khayman finally spoke. The first words 
spoken aloud seemed to ring through the air.He found himself speaking 
French, as Gabrielle's thoughts were in french.
With a dry laugh, Gabrielle answered , "My son....I utter these two 
words aloud...my son. To you and the others he is my son. A mother is 
responsible for her son, not so? Even on this side of the mirror, even 
in this dark side of the moon...."
"Lestat is perhaps the happiest of us all because he has his mother.", 
Khayman replied.
"Oh but he does not have me,Khayman,"
" We all have no one,consequently," , said Khayman," Akasha chose us 
well. We are all connected in some form by a thread of love but we do 
not have each other. It was a damnable thing...only a queen of the 
damned could have had such a plot."
"But she might not have chosen you.", said Gabrielle.
" Ah, that's a six thousand year old scar....so now you other survivors 
of her can join me.", laughed Khayman.
Gabrielle said nothing, but looked to the stars.
She could have seen his thoughts, they were so unsurprising. Fragments 
of his last awakening...the bloody saga of the queen's awakening and the 
aftermath of it all....the collapse of the unity at Night island hurt 
him a lot, the collapse of everything and yet nothing. It seemed to have 
done nothing  but awe the young ones who had survived. What had they all 
become for it? What renewal of perspective had been realised upon them?
It seemed as if the mortal law that life goes on applied also in this 
world of life in death.
Khayman had expected more out of everyone,even, especially, himself. Yet 
eternity rolled on. Gabrielle sighed.
"What is it that you see in the stars, Gabrielle? Blessed candles of the 
night....wish upon a star..ah, those mortal quotes  on the suns of the 
night."
"I search the world, Khayman, the sea , the land, the sky....the night 
sky with its stars."
To this Khayman smiled and answered,"For millenia, I have been on this 
planet. The moon was always there and I never visited it. I nevr visited 
the stars, which would try to kill me.I never left the highest layer of 
earth's sky. It amuses me that none of us has tried. How is it that 
mortals can now  map the entire human genome,make life from technology, 
fling spacecraft past Jupiter? How is it that they have been to the 
moon, have investigated planets beyond Earth and bodies and galaxies and 
we have not? Ah, we are still devoid of reality, I believe. The world is 
too much with us. We are more illusioned than our mortals." 

Gabrielle was smiling, "You are perhaps bored and misanthropical, 
Khayman."
"Oh that is possible, dear Gabrielle. And as the possibility of space 
travel, that is possible too. Perhaps I talk too fast....your son might 
be plotting it soon..", he said with a laugh.
Ah, it was so good to laugh.
"He is too lost in his affairs for that, khayman. He has yet to discover 
things....but I do not know."
It was true. All was well for Lestat...he was fortunate to be able to 
get lost in his affairs. He was still very human in his lifestyle.
To this Gabrielle laughed. She had a beautiful laugh. The dark hair 
became her less than the blonde, but she was quite a creature.Strong and 
enduring.
"I too have wondered about the universe, Khayman. After all, we should 
be the ones with the greatest interest in it, if we seek to be here for 
an eternity. I have interest and one day I will put action to it. 
Sometimes, I feel that all the answers are here on Earth.Earth presents 
such a landscape for me.There must be more of this elsewhere.
I know and I understand but I learn as the years go by that we are still 
nothing in comparison to the universe, even in these powerful 
forms.Perhaps we cannot conquer anywhere bur Earth and then perhaps this 
is not so at all.Perhaps there is a place that we truly belong."

Khayman was pleased. He let her know this. The topic was always a 
strange form of comfort to him.That there was something more to all of 
this.It made him feel like a mortal.It was comforting to know that they 
were still in the dark as humans were, that they too were being spared a 
little from any harsh truth. Yet it was terrifying in the same breath.
Terrifying because immortals might always be in the dark.It was a sick 
joke, a cruel game on them, to endure to eternity without answers.

"There is so much to this, Khayman.",said Gabrielle in a soft voice,"One 
day we will talk on it more."

She was leaving. She had no desire to remain in this country.
The night was leaving at well.The sounds of early mortal traffic were 
wafting in the air. 
"It has been a singular night, Khayman.", she continued,with a tinge of 
amusement in her voice. She had  enjoyed the conversation.
With  a smile, Khayman bid her farewell, saying as she turned to leave, 
"In a real way, we become more human with time, Gabrielle."

                      THE END.

"Waves of regret, waves of joy."
                           U2.



1996.

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