Ben saw houses and temples, buffalo, cows, sheep, pigs, and chickens but few structures that looked anything like schools or libraries. There was little evidence of any modern life, no cars, mobile towers, or even radio stations from what he could see. On each island, Jae was quick to point out the medical clinics the elders had set up, but he also was quick to mention that sickness and disease was rare and only the most elderly usually needed a doctor.
Despite the facade of the picturesque, Ben had questions.
Did any of the children get an education on the islands?
Were the islanders allowed to leave if they wanted to?
What about those born with disabilities or chronic health conditions? Were they sent away? Did they simply linger in their family homes until they died?
Ben had studied history and been raised by a five-hundred-year-old vampire; he knew that modern humans often glorified the past without seeing the harshness of the day-to-day reality. There was nothing romantic about living without modern plumbing and health care.
Jae showed him all the islands that stretched from Penglai in the southwest up to Jogé at the northeast corner. The fishing island Kun, the verdant isle of Set, and Male made up the rest of the chain. Kun and Male were mainly fishing islands while Set and Jogé were cultivated for crops. In total, Jae estimated that around five thousand humans lived on all five islands.
They were sailing back to Penglai, and Ben had more and more questions swirling in his mind, but he didn’t want to offend Jae, who seemed nothing but proud of the island way of life. Ben could see many advantages. The people lived an active, satisfying life where the elders provided everything they needed that they could not produce themselves, and in turn, they provided the elders with food, fish, and tradable goods that could keep the islands in balance.
And blood. Ben couldn’t forget the blood.
According to Jae, all islanders understood that some of their number would be taken to the main island every week as part of the blood-stock for the vampires on Penglai. There was no preserved blood on Penglai Island, and blood-wine was rare. Humans were the only source of food, and while Ben knew that all the monks and most of the residents were provided to the vampires as blood donors, he hadn’t really put together that those humans on the islands might not have a choice in the matter.
Ben was sitting in their sleeping quarters, writing notes in a journal, when Tenzin finally returned from decorating the banquet hall.
“I have folded so many paper flowers tonight, I think my hands might be sore.” She looked at them in confusion. “I can’t remember the last time my hands were sore.”
Ben turned and looked at her. “Do you remember what sore really feels like?”
“Not really, but I know it’s not pleasant.”
“It comes from your muscles being inflamed from overuse.”
She frowned. “I can’t be sore then.” Vampire muscles could be cut, could be bruised, could even be torn, but they couldn’t really be overused. “Whatever the feeling is, it is not pleasant.”
She was tiny and indignant, but she was also beautiful.
“Tenzin?”
“Hmm?” She was staring at her fingertips. “I think my fingers were cut many times.”
“Paper cuts. Have you been to the outer islands?”
“What are paper cuts? And no, not for years.” She looked up. “Why would I go to the outer islands?”
“To see how the islanders live.”
“But that hasn’t changed in hundreds of years.” She walked to the bathroom and returned with a damp cloth that she put over her hands. “That feels better.”
“The islanders’ lives haven’t changed in hundreds of years,” Ben repeated. “Think about that.”
She looked up. “What is to think about? Life here at Penglai hasn’t changed either. I realize you miss your mobile devices here, but there is a phone room—”
“It’s not my mobile phone I’m talking about.” Ben walked over to her. “I’m talking about basic things, Tenzin. Plumbing. Schools. Electricity. Most of the islands don’t even have electricity.”
“So they go to bed when the sun goes down.” Tenzin shrugged. “I don’t understand what—”
“Are they prisoners here?”
She froze. “That’s… complicated.”
“Why?”
“Because technically these islands don’t exist. Not to any human government. Not in the modern world. Therefore, the people who live here—according to the outside world—don’t exist either.”
He wasn’t surprised. “So if someone wanted to leave?”
“Why would they?” She frowned. “Humans on the islands work hard, yes. But they also never suffer hunger or war or homelessness. There are no drugs here. Alcohol exists, but the abuse of it does not.”
Ben crossed his arms. “Why not?”
“You want there to be alcohol abuse?” Her eyebrows went up.
“No, but I want humans to have free will.” He kept his eyes on her. “And I don’t think it really exists here. What would happen if someone was unhappy and started abusing alcohol in the town?”
“One of the vampire administrators would take them, use amnis, and make sure they didn’t abuse alcohol in the future.”
“And you think that’s right?” Ben wasn’t shocked, but he was. “They’re taking their free will away.”
“It would be better for that person’s family and community to suffer their abuse?” Tenzin was confused. “What are you saying? That that single individual’s bad choices are more valuable than the good of the whole community?”
Wait, was that what he was saying? Ben shook his head. “I’m talking about free will, Tenzin.”
“And I’m talking about safety and responsibility.” Tenzin frowned. “They’re humans. If they’re going to live together peacefully, they need rules.”
“And vampires don’t need rules?”
“Vampires have more rules than humans by far,” Tenzin said. “We have hierarchies and tribute and sires and offspring and allies. There are rules governing every one of those relationships.”
He didn’t deny that, but there was still something about the islands that didn’t sit right with him. Were most of the islanders happy? Probably.
But what if some of them weren’t?
Tenzin walked over and put her hand on his cheek. “Don’t put modern morality or ideas onto a place that hasn’t moved in centuries, Ben. It just doesn’t fit.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his lips gently. “The people here are happy, content, and are provided with everything they need. Can you say the same about most humans in the modern world?”
“No,” he admitted. “Not even a little bit.”
“So I’m right.” She looked at her hands. “Paper cuts would make an effective torture device. Not that I torture people anymore, but should the need arise…”
Something about the islands of Penglai still sat uneasily in Ben’s chest, and he felt a burst of irritation with his mate, who had shoved the quality of human life on the islands out of her mind so she could focus on paper cuts.