I gave him time to flip through the entire binder before acknowledging his presence. I had hoped that leaving the “mess” on the table would intrigue him and let his curiosity get the better of him. Much more effective than forcing him to read something. I’m still not sure which one of us was more stubborn or...determined I suppose. “I have some suggestions. If you’re interested.”
His silence was the only answer I needed. I proceeded to tell him about the scientists I found here who had been working on a variation of the vaccine, gesturing to the discussion boards on my monitors. They hit a wall when their funding ran out. “If they were able to find additional money, I believe that they will make great strides to improving its efficacy.” Before he said anything, I held my hand up and took a moment to get him a drink. Holding the cut crystal glass out to him, I continued. “If the locals could be assured that there was a Ukrainian vaccine that was even more effective than imported ones. It might persuade key influential members of the population to get their shots. That would be a start, yes?”
When he nodded and downed the liquor, I explained my other idea. Incentives. For those who may be wavering over their decision, or outright against the science, perhaps other persuasion would work. Everyone has a price of some kind. It may be money or cattle or land or repairs to their house or any number of things. “If we could gather the information about what these needs might be, then we could start whittling away at the list. Exchanging the incentives for vaccinations bit by bit. At least for the immediate area.” Some may call it bribery, but if it works?
The only indication that Kyvan had made the transition from the monk’s cells to the stone cottage @nerguiheng currently resided in was a momentary need to simultaneously stoop and high-step. He supposed he should be glad the castiron wood stove heated the space more efficiently than the giant kitchen fireplace that hid the entrance to the cave system.
He scanned the dimly lit space quickly but found he was alone. The flickering blue-tinged light from the next room reminded him of candle-light without the warm welcome. It also let him know where he was likely to find Nergui. Kyvan strode acoss the room, rapping his knuckles lightly on the doorjamb so as not to startle the younger man.
If the other room reminded Kyvan of his youth, this second room was a Gen Z fantasy. How Nergui had managed to wire it for what had to amount to a cutting edge supercomputer was a mystery he didn’t really need solved. He just hoped the system was mining bitcoin along with whatever else it was doing. There was only one seat in the room, and it was occupied so Kyvan leaned a hip against a heavy wooden table that had been shoved against a wall. He randomly picked up one of the assortment of binders and folders that threatened to overflow the tabletop and began to read.
The first page was a summary of the potential side effects of the AstraZeneca vaccine. To his surprise, it referenced both news articles and scientific studies. Much of the news he’d already heard, although South Korea resuming AstraZeneca vaccinations for those over 30 while the EU was mulling discontinuing them was not something he’d been aware of. It made a bit more sense when he flipped to the underlying data and discovered South Korea wasn manufacturing it’s own AstraZeneca vaccines rather than importing them. That would definitely increase confidence levels. It also appeared that recent olling out of the UK indicated people would take whatever vaccine they could get, including AstraZeneca’s. Perhaps there was a way to use those bits of information to overcome some of the vaccine reticence in Ukraine.
Of course, there was still the issue of getting enough vaccines and getting it to the people who needed it. Given the level of reluctance to take the shot in urban centers like Kyiv, it might be possible for him to secure enough for area villagers. Then the problem became whether there was a nearby hospital equiped to handle any blood clots or other side-effects.
Unfortunately, unofficial alternative vaccine sources proved to be more difficult to find than official ones.
Kyvan had contacted just about everyone he could think of who might have a drug connection. He’d started with Tai, the Admiral’s Arms drummer, who, despite being the sanest and most sober rocker Kyvan had ever met, seemed to be at the center of everything on the road and off. He’d even tried reaching out to Drexel, @melissahiggens old boss, whom he’d never cared for. Evidently the feeling was mutual because he found himself dealing with Sarah, Drexel’s underboss. Her, Kyvan actually liked. A very no-nonsense lady, who wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty or bloody. Based on their conversations, she was an excellent businesswoman as well. If the rumors of Drexel’s demise turned out to be true, he hoped she’d take over the operation. She was someone he could work with. He might even enjoy it.
First, however, he needed to get some vaccines, any vaccines, into the arms of the humans in the village. Maybe @nerguiheng had made more progress than he had. Pulling on his favorite leather jacket so he wouldn’t stand out by making deliveries in shirt sleeves, Kyvan went to find his friend.
The news was not good. Kyiv was back in lockdown after a recent surge in COVID cases. Several other cities and regions, including Chernihiv, were disgnated “orange” and on the brink of following suit. Supplies and food were definitely going to become harder to get. Probably more expensive too.
It was during times such as these that Kyvan truly did not understand humans. Things should be starting to turn around with the discovery and distribution of vaccines. Instead, things seemed to be headed the opposite direction. Again.
Certainly, vaccines were in limited supply. Yet it appeared that even when vaccines were available, many people were choosing not to get the shot. Why?
Kyvan could understand some skepticism and anxiety. After all, these were brand new drugs that were developed very quickly. Yes, the science behind them was well established. That didn’t mean the rush to distribution had been error free. Greater transperancy into the manufacturing and importation processes not to mention the data from clinical trials would go a long way towards dispelling those concerns.
That none of the vaccines were developed or manufactured in Ukraine only added to the skepitcism. The AstraZeneca vaccine currently available here was made in India. Although it was in wide use there, several other nations, particularly those elsewhere in Europe had halted distribution over safety concerns. From what he could tell by reading reports from the WHO, EMA and CDC, these concerns were unfounded. That didn’t mean the fear and mistrust hadn’t taken hold of Ukranian imaginations.
Perhaps if other vaccines developed in the US, UK or EU were available it would help. Even those from Russia and China might increase overall vaccination rates although he personally doubted many Ukrainians woudl share his confidence in Sputnik V given the ongoing war in the east. Still, more choices were better than no choices. Maybe Kyvan could do something about that.
He knew @Nerguiheng had reached out to all the major pharmaceutical firms and even several governments to no avail. Perhaps it was time to explore other, less official, avenues. Given the abundant availability of all kinds of drugs, legal and illicit, he witnessed on tour, there had to be alternate sources for vaccines. he just had to find them. And convince whoever had them to sell to him which would probably just be a matter of throwing enough money at them.
The pandemic was a blessing in some ways. There hadn’t been a tantrum in over a year to clean up after. Once he discovered that he could anonymously be of help to the villagers, he found a renewed purpose. Something to propel him forward. Something that had been missing since....then. Instead of replacing broken furniture and crystal, I was organizing purchases, deliveries and researching the best places to donate his money and support the fight to eradicate this virus. I didn’t dare call him Ded Moroz or Svyatyy Mykolay, but I did occasional picture him with a long white beard. If he caught me chuckling to myself, he seemed to ignore it. Or at least was in too good a mood to comment. Something having a purpose will do for you.
Somebody, he couldn’t remember who, sang “sometimes the most amazing things come from the most terrible lies.” That may or may not be true. What was true that sometimes grace could be found in most terrible times. Take the last year, for instance...
This was the longest year of Kyvan’s existence. Which was saying something given the nightmare of the couple of years preceding it. Not to mention the 8 centuries before that. Of course, those weren’t all bad. Not by a long shot. He had to keep reminding himself of that.
In many ways, however, this pandemic year had been one of his best. Perhaps it was a blessing that it had lasted so long. Gave him time to recognize and appreaciate it. Two things he wasn’t always good at.
The pandemic, COVID-19 as the humans called it, hadn’t immediately drawn his attention. Not only were vampires immune to it, but the initial wave of contagion also seemed to jump over Russia. What happened in the rest of the world mattered very little to him, then or now.
Of course, he couldn’t avoid the outside world forever, even though he tried.
He’d gone to ground in Lyubech, a small village in what was now called Ukraine. For centuries he’d been quietly buying up property in the region. Sometime around the Revolution he’d purchased Zamkova Hill, where the old citadel used to stand. During the Soviet era, he’d permitted an archaeological excavation of the site by the noted academic author Boris Rybakov, with whom he’d also shared the old stories (Rybakov had turned those into The Tale of Igor’s Campaign and Its Contemporaries which he published in 1971). After the Soviet collapse, Kyvan had planned to build a dacha on the site but never quite got around to it.
That turned out to be a blessing in disguise as well.
In late 2019, Kyvan had taken up residence in the long forgotten monastic cells and tunnels dug into the slopes of Zamkova. In them he lived a solitary and silent life especially compared to the glamorous rock star life he’d lead since vampires came out of the coffin. Surprisingly, he hadn’t missed his former lifestyle once he’d had electricty and high-speed fiber-optic cable laid in. He, like the village, had lost their strategic value to the outside world, despite their colorful and significant history. Neither seemed to mind.
When COVID had finally come to Russia, it hadn’t taken a genius to recognize isolation was the best defence to the new disease. That was both harder and easier than it sounded for the villagers to accomplish. They were, largely, their own social bubble, however, they still required supplies from outside.
That was where he came in. Or out as it were.
Initially he transported supplies from some of the larger village nearby like Ripky and Sedniv. Unfortunately, as the pandemic wore on, those villages began to struggle too. Many saw multiple unneessary deaths. Before long, Kyvan found himself going to the oblast capital of Chernihiv to get supplies to keep the villages going.
He never bothered to ask himself why he cared whether they lived or died.
You probably know the song, “House of the Rising Sun,” was recorded by The Animals in 1964 and became a transAtlantic hit. But did you know it was not written by them? House of the Rising Sun is a folk song, and no one knows where it first originated.
Walking into the music room didn’t offer Kyvan much solace. Music had been his refuge, at times his only refuge, thoughout his existence. Now, he doubted that it ever would be again.
Looking around the room, he could feel the silent rebuke of the instruments, all were dear friends and many were museum quality by virtue of not existing anywhere else in the world anymore. His fingers grazed a few, studiously avoiding any strings or keys that might summon their voices. He didn’t want to hear it. He knew what they would say.
One tour around the room was all that he could bear.
He switched off the lights and locked the door behind him. It was time he put away childish things. Other things needed doing. Chief among them: finding someone to eat. If he was going to accomplish the task before him he would need his strength.
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