by P. S. Power
Liam thought for a bit and shook his head.
“I don’t, for the moment. The papers though… If I have those things, Agent Brenner and the others will know that we met.”
“So? You don’t have to hide that. I am, in a very real fashion, your father. Also, not someone you are forbidden contact with. You could come and live with me and the state would have to allow it. At the moment you are perhaps better off with Agent Brenner, in that you have access that is needed. We can do without that though, if you are uncomfortable there.”
Shaking his head, Liam sighed. His shoulders drooped as that happened.
“I was told that you wanted to build an army. To use me to take over the world. Isn’t that the plan?”
There was a smile then and a hand wave.
“Certainly. With ten thousand of us, our kind, working together, we could easily take over the world. Our kind is better suited to rule as well. We are less emotional, more intelligent and can, in theory, hold ourselves to higher standards than the humans can manage. I did have you brought into being for that purpose. To see if raising you in better conditions than the rest of us had would lead to one who could rule with both kindness and a firm hand, at the same time. You should seek to learn such skills.”
Liam didn’t smile this time, hearing what was actually being said to him in the moment.
“The rest of you weren’t handled well?” Raised wasn’t really a way to describe how he was growing, so it might be the same for the others.
The words got a soft chuckle.
“Ah, no. Not at all. Not even one of us was treated with fairness or love. Not even for the first days or weeks. In each case horrible things happened to us almost immediately. I wanted to see if that could make a difference. So far you seem well balanced to me. Then, in my first year I killed many. Many more than what I told kind Mary Shelley about. I think it must have been in the hundreds.” There was a shrug then and a sigh. It seemed very human, really. “Two hundred and seventy-one people. Most of them did little more than get in my way. I did, after the first decades, learn to be better than that. You’ve only killed, what is it so far? Three? Three people, each of whom wanted to kill a young girl you and those others were protecting. None of us, the rest, managed that well in the first half year of our lives. Even those I don’t know well, the women of other making, did not manage that well. Most killed their makers when they were first raped. Normally in the first hours of their lives.”
That sounded off to him, though he nodded. It was important to be polite, after all.
“I feel like that can’t be true. That my life is so much better than what all the rest had. Still, if it’s the truth, then it is. So far. Not that I want to harm anyone. That… It doesn’t sound like what a good soldier or fighter would say, does it? I’d be happy just getting along. I don’t want anyone to die, if possible. Even those I killed…” Liam didn’t feel anything about it, while not wanting them to have been killed, either. It was what he’d been able to do at that moment in time. Now, with his new skills in fighting, he might well do better.
A thing that Oaks, his father, seemed to understand without it being said.
“We, the promethean kind, do not have the same emotions that humans do. A thing that would make them fearful to find out about. That we don’t value lives in more than a mental fashion makes little sense to them. On the other hand, we don’t respond with true anger, even if it’s thought of in such a fashion when we act. Sometimes we have reason to act. If you must do so, do not hesitate. Here.” He reached into his right-hand side jacket pocket, a large thing that would hold much and pulled a large golden envelope.
“There are papers here, for you. Legal ones, as far as the government will be able to tell. There is cash as well. Enough for you to use to vanish, if you have to. Technically, this, these documents, means that you are free of anything legal the FBI can do to you. Not that you shouldn’t hold where you are. Show all of this to Brenner, even. That will let her see she isn’t your master, without being too frightened, since you are sharing it with her. I should go. We could meet again? Here, in a week at this same time, unless you need me sooner. In that case, contact me as you did, on the boards, or call, if that is available to you. In the meantime, you should try to find out what Agent Brenner and Mitchel Warner are getting up to. I have business with Warner, and trust him. Agent Brenner…” There was a dark look then, a frown and a brown eyed glare. Then a fake, very large, sigh. “In truth, I know little enough of her. Nothing all that bad, to be fair. Which is why I’d like it if you could watch for us. Everyone in the alternate community, not simply our people.”
Liam didn't know what to say about that. Really, he was uncertain about a lot of things that had been told to him in the last minutes. It would take thought and consideration, to make sure he wasn’t being led astray or lied to in order to influence him.
Still, nodding and smiling, he spoke, his voice very soft, even for him.
“I can try. I’ll need to research this and make certain it’s the right thing to do.” He waited then, wondering if anger or at least attack, would come due to his statement. It wasn’t simply doing what he was told, after all. A thing that would mark him as a poor soldier, indeed.
Oaks waved at him, taking a step back.
“As you should. I’ve given you the truth that I can, as I know it. That doesn’t mean everything I’ve said is correct. In this world there is always speculation and guesswork needed in order to get along and move forward. Everything you are told needs to be tested and reworked, constantly. Especially when you are being asked to spy on people you have little reason not to trust at the moment. As I said, I don’t either. It’s merely prudent to know, rather than assume, that is all.”
Waving again, the large man turned and without even a single sound, vanished back into the trees behind him. Liam had no doubt that Oaks would be more familiar with the paths there than probably anyone else in the world. Even if for an act, living under that very bridge ensured that.
For his part, holding the envelope in his hands, Liam turned and ran back toward Mitchel’s. He didn’t try to go as fast as he could, taking the two miles in only six minutes or so. It was fast, for running, without anyone stopping him or following along in amazement. When he stepped back inside, he found that there was a body in the front space. A living one, sitting on the sofa, watching television.
A female, as it turned out. She was translucent, as well as being familiar, if unexpected, given the location. They had met before though, so Liam plastered a smile on his lips.
“Abbie? I didn't know you were going to visit.” His whisper sounded almost sinister, as the translucent woman, a ghost in truth, jumped a bit and turned to face him.
“Ah! Liam! You scared me. Which probably means I suck at being dead like this. I’m almost certain that you’re the one who’s supposed to jump and be frightened when the mighty ghost girl shows up. Work on that? I have some information, for Mitchel. I’d give it to you but then I couldn’t sit here and watch television all afternoon, pretending that I needed to wait. You understand, right?”
Honestly, Liam figured that he did, after a fashion. She’d mentioned there being rules as to her comings and goings before. Other than saying that, she held her own council on things.
“Yes. I was just out meeting with… My father. Oaks.” The woman didn’t seem to get who that was, from her facial expression, which seemed mildly interested, though nothing more.
She was, he had to figure, pretty enough. Her skin was see-through but smooth and her long brown hair was interesting. Abbie had been about sixteen when she’d died. In a car accident. One bad enough to kill a werewolf, which probably didn't take a lot more than killing a regular human would have. It didn’t show now. She was in what seemed to be a dress, rather than blue jeans and a shirt. It wasn’t that old fashioned though, since the woman had died about forty years before, not a hundred and forty.
Liam shrugged, smiled and
went on.
“He’s basically Frankenstein’s monster, from the book. Things seem to have been a little different than that claimed. Artistic license I think, rather than Ms. Shelley simply getting things wrong. He brought me some money and identification, in case I need to run away.” Or simply leave, of course.
For the first time, he opened the envelope in his hand, pulling out several things, one right after the other. Looking at them closely. Ignoring the television, Abbie got up, rising into the air as if standing, and walked through the sofa to close with him, then she crowded in, to look at what he was holding.
There was a hint of a low whistle.
“Nice. Let me see the passport there. Open it?”
He did that, the little book feeling tiny in his hands.
“Liam Alan Frankenstein. This says that you’re… What, twenty?” She acted as if she were counting on her fingers then, which made little sense.
He nodded.
“The birth date matches on the drivers license. There’s also this. A birth certificate. Saying that Leslie Stein is my mother and that Warren Oaks is my father. Warren… I wonder if that’s his first name? I never asked if he had more than the one. It makes sense, being he’s rather old.”
He pulled the bulk of what was in the envelope, which was a bound sheath of hundred-dollar bills. Liam counted them quickly, noting that there were thirty of them. So three thousand dollars worth. The trick there was that he barely understood what that amount meant. It wasn’t a small sum, he didn't think, while also not being a fortune.
Abbie winked at him, on seeing it.
“Sure, come into money when you can’t even take me out to dinner. I see how you are.” She was playing it was clear. Flirting, even, possibly.
After a moment, she moved back to the sofa, her attention mainly going to the t.v. A large flat screen that took up enough space to show it was important to Mitch Warner, for some reason. At the moment it simply had news on, with a conversation about how the President failed again being the main topic.
When that was done, there was a flash of light from the screen, in red, and a deep thrumming sound. With a claim that breaking news was underway.
“This just in.” The man who was speaking seemed bland and blank, his skin nearly matching Liam’s own in color. His eyes were merely brown though, which made him seem more human. “A group claiming to be the vampire killers has released a statement to the press about yesterday’s terrorist attack on the FBI. Let’s go to the press conference. We have Judith Renlow reporting from Washington D.C. Judith?”
The woman didn't really know much. Really, a lot of the facts being given were simply wrong. A thing that Liam knew since they were talking about an event he’d witnessed most of, if at a remove. Snorting he finally spoke after about a minute.
“The police didn't apprehend anyone yesterday, at the scene. They’d shot at me, when I was attacked by an FBI agent. It was illegal, so they ran away. At least I think that might have been the point. I need to find out more about that. It was six people killed, not seven, as well. I don’t know where they’re getting the information. Almost everything they are claiming on here is wrong. Just a little bit.”
The ghost nodded for a few moments, then spoke, her voice clear, if not loud at all. It held a tone that echoed a bit. As if she were very far away, down a tube.
“Weird. A lot of that is probably due to other things going on. I mean, you were shot at, so the press on the scene might not get that doesn’t mean you weren’t killed. That kind of thing. This feeds in a bit to what I have for Mitchel though.” She stopped then and waited, as if something were supposed to be happening.
Liam just moved over to the table, placing the envelope with the identification papers and cash in it to the side. He didn't need them at the moment and didn’t have any pockets in the clothing he had on at the moment. Then, quickly, he started to look things up. A lot of data, very quickly.
After several minutes of not speaking, Abbie the ghost did.
“So, um, Liam… You aren’t going to ask me what information I have? Aren’t you curious about it?”
Turning to look at her, he nodded.
“A bit. Still, you said it was for Mitchel. I may not be allowed to know that kind of thing. Still, you can tell me if you want. I’m willing to listen and can hear you.” From what he’d seen, most had trouble doing that. To him she looked see through, but otherwise just like a regular werewolf girl.
To most other people, she was invisible and didn’t make any sound at all. Mitchel was able to see and hear her, due to his nature as an air elemental. Which was probably the real reason that Abbie was there.
Rather than tell him that, she leaned back on the sofa and stretched upward, even if that wouldn’t do anything for her.
“I heard, from a guy I know, a ghost, that there are several murder victims in town that have an interesting story to tell. At the Kinsey Federal Building? An air elemental might just be able to find out a good bit of data from someone like that, if he played his cards right, don’t you think?”
Liam did think that was likely. For a moment he nodded, since it was important to let dead people know what you were thinking, at times.
“Is that normal? Murder victims staying as ghosts?”
Abbie shook her head then, her long hair bobbing around as she did it.
“It really isn’t. Not unless there’s a reason for them to stick around and play with the rest of you. Even at that, they really can’t stay long. There are rules, after all. Enforcement for them as well. Hence me coming here and waiting for Mitchel like this. I’m… Well, not to toot my own horn, but I’m special that way. Mainly due to the fact that my unfinished business will likely have to stay that way. These new kids will probably need to be questioned tonight, if he’s doing that at all, you know?”
He didn’t know that, but nodded. After all, there was no reason for the ghost to lie to him, in particular.
Chapter eight
Liam spent his afternoon researching. That and having a conversation with Abbie, the ghost. She was pleasant enough, mainly wanting to have a connection to the living, since it was, as she assured him, boring on the other side.
Her cute face, see through as it was, presented dimples when she grinned at him.
“Oh, sure, we can watch you all in the shower for a show, but frankly we all lack hormones, which takes all the thrill out of it pretty darn quick.”
That was a joke, of course, Liam thought. At least she chuckled at it, so he did the same if in an abstract fashion. Not that he wanted to ignore her. She was, after all, as close to a friend as he had, other than Mitchel and possibly Brenner. Given that the FBI agent was busily keeping him prisoner, away from his mother, he had to figure that she might not really count for that. Still, she wasn’t evil or anything, he was, after several months of observation fairly secure in that idea. The woman did her job, practically living it, day to day.
Even to the point of selling herself physically to several groups, in order to make certain there were intense bonds between them and the Federal Government. Having relations with at least six different men and two women, simply to draw them together.
Of interest, Liam was certain that at least half the groups doing that with her weren’t structured that way. The elves for instance regularly sent single men around to have sex with her, at least once every fifteen days. A different man each time. Nothing in their history or tales spoke of that kind of thing being part of their culture though. He hadn’t brought it up, in case Brenner had some kind of plan in that direction.
What he needed to know, over the course of the afternoon, was how good the identification he had truly was. That, it turned out, was nearly perfect. In short, it was, when he checked things online, actually there, in the computer system. He had a driver’s license that not only looked correct, but that would tell the police that he was a licensed driver, when they checked it on their mobile computers.
The rest of it
matched. His passport and birth certificate were in the computers that the government used. It had taken him most of the day to get into their system. A thing that he had to find out how to do on the deep web, which was slow and cumbersome to use.
Then, after that, he had to address his life issues carefully, researching the specifics as they were presented in legal documents. That part was interesting, when he triple checked it all.
It meant that, when Agent Brenner came in, he had to resist whispering at her about how he was free of her and her kidnapping friends. It was, as far as he could tell, true.
She glanced at him when she came in, a smile, a sad and tired thing, crossing her lips. It faded almost instantly. She looked at him, missing the ghost on the sofa, totally.
“Hey. We’re kind of tapped on leads for the time being, so I figured I’d get back here and catch a shower. Anything happen today?” She looked around, her eyes noting the manila envelope next to him on the computer desk. Briefly, but it was clear that she understood it was new and not something that Mitchel would just have laying around.
Thinking for a moment, Liam let himself smile, just a bit.
“I had my weekly meeting with Oaks. He got some identification for me. It’s in the system at every level. There’s some cash as well.” He pulled the things out to show her, wondering what her reaction would be. Taking the thing from him, for being illegal, made sense.
After all, they weren’t legal at all and she was law enforcement. Hiding it from her was an option as well, but Liam didn’t really want to lie to people, if he had a choice. Which he did, really.
She took them from him, glancing at the cash and slipping it back into the envelope, before spending several minutes looking at the driver’s license in particular.
“These are real?”
Liam got her idea there.
“In the system, yes. I checked the major databases to make certain of it.”
Instead of going on about the dangers of fake identification, she cleared her throat and shook her head a bit.