Grunge (ARC)

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Grunge (ARC) Page 25

by Larry Correia


  The nice thing about UF testimony is that there’s none of some congressman making a speech about the importance of making the bluebird the state bird of some state then asking a koan. All of it is secret testimony so they stick to the subject.

  Early on I was hit by a hardball from one of my mother’s supporters on the subject of “vicious money grubbing mercenaries killing anything that isn’t human or on the endangered species list.”

  “Honorable Congresswoman,” I said, nodding. “I am the author of the most definitive work on the Sasquatch of the Northwestern United States as well as the only dictionary of their polysynthetic agglutinative language. I have lived with them for weeks at a time, saved the young of their tribe from a werewolf which was hunting them and when I arrived one time with a broken arm, they, in turn, introduced me to a Kappa shaman healer. Not only did the Kappa heal my broken arm, he healed almost all the wounds I sustained in the bombing in Beirut. I ended up with a pile of pins and plates the shaman removed by magic healing from my body. I can show this committee copies of my before and after x-rays should they need proof of this miracle.

  “I should note that a single Kappa is worth at the minimum fifty thousand dollars. A shaman would be probably twice that. They are considered extremely dangerous monsters, feared above almost all others in Japan. Which they are when provoked. But not only I but my company, MHI, hold these Kappa and Sasquatch sacrosanct. We will not even divulge to this committee, nor anyone else, their location. And will kill humans to protect them. So much of ‘money grubbing mercenaries.’

  “There are monsters which are harmless. There are monsters which are irredeemable. There are those which are in the middle. Bottom line, if they are not dangerous MHI and any credible monster hunting organization ignores them. Live and let live. But vampires? Vicious, bloody, undead killing machines? You might as well argue for zombie rights! I know of not a single instance where they got their blood from blood banks. They get their blood from holding captives in disgusting conditions and feeding them the bloody chunks of those who perish from their draining. Vampires? Stake, chop and cremate! Unless you’re very good with a sword, which I am, in which case you can skip ‘stake.’

  “When we don’t aggressively hunt them, they breed like mad. Please stop reading Anne Rice, Honorable Congresswoman. Please,” I finished, holding my hands in a praying motion. “If you try to interview a vampire I assure you it will rip your throat out before you can ask its name,” I added, chuckling. “That completes my response, Honorable chairwoman…”

  I had a good quip for every single hostile question, I had every question nailed and I could answer them all in under two minutes. My mother had repeatedly asked to revise and extend and with the chairwoman in her pocket it had been allowed. My mother could be a very boring harridan.

  But most testimony is for show, even with UF testimony. Where the real power lies is in knowing the staff behind the scenes and meetings in private. I couldn’t spend all my time in DC. I had monsters to kill. I eventually found a medically retired Hunter, lost her right leg to a luska, named Melanie Simmons who had picked up her law degree after retirement. She had a Federal Bar certificate and already worked for a lobbying firm in DC. I hired her to set up a lobbying firm for Hunter activities to handle the background and explain that, no, Mr. Gardenier isn’t available because he, you know, is out there saving people.

  My mother was always available. Because she wasn’t. That point also scored.

  So did the fact that Hunters had money. Monster rights advocates had to have a hard time raising money. Where did they advertise? The back of Harlequin?

  I later found out that most of their money came from grants from, you guessed it, the Federal Government, to “study” monsters and even to advocate for monster rights. And where did that money come from? The subcommittee I was testifying in front of.

  What the fuck? Never mind. Democracy isn’t the best system of government, just the best we’ve ever found.

  In those private meetings I stressed a few points over and over again. They weren’t even about “hunters are better than cops for this” or “we need more money.”

  The point was that those subcommittees were the most important job in Congress.

  That point sort of caught most of the legislators and even staff off balance. “I don’t think so” was the undercurrent. What about Ways and Means? Defense? State?

  “Think about the worst possible situation you can in the mundane world. Nuclear war? Nuclear war might blast us into a very bad decade. Would it wipe out civilization? No. There aren’t enough bombs in both inventories. Most of the world would sit it out. And the US would have a very hard ten year, maybe longer. We’d be a third world country for the next century. We might break up.

  “If the Great Old Ones break through, if the Fey take over, human civilization will end. A few free humans might survive for a couple of generations, max. The Fallen would use us for sport until they get bored and then humanity will end. All the trees, all the bison, all the flowers, will be smashed, burned, destroyed. The environment? Old Ones will destroy it. They would wipe out every bit of life on earth until the last rabbit is flayed alive and dies screaming.

  “None of you will be spared. You won’t be able to hide in the deepest bunkers or the furthest wastes. Nothing can protect you. Your families will not be spared. Everyone you love will die screaming. Eaten by vampires, turned into zombies, possessed by demons, devoured for a thousand years in the stomach of shoggoths, their very souls stolen and denied heaven and tortured for all eternity by the Old Ones. The skies will be black as night and the rivers will literally run with blood as the whole world screams for decades until there is no-one left to scream.

  “That is what these subcommittees consider every time they meet. How to save the God-damned world (senior staffer, Congressman, Senator.) You are the most important people in the world because it is, every damned day, in your hands.

  “The Elder Things, the Old Ones, the Outer Powers, they only have to get it right once. You have to get it right every single day. And if you don’t, every human, every animal, every plant on earth will perish in pain and fire.

  “But no pressure,” I’d add with a grin.

  The argument even sunk home with some of the monster rights side of the table. Unfortunately, they preferred appeasement. “I’m sure we can negotiate with the Old Ones.” Gah.

  By the way, if you were a Monster Hunter or even a former Monster Hunter, do not bother to apply for any of those grants to study monsters. You are a vicious mercenary even if you do have two masters from Oxford University. And later two PhDs.

  Just to try to get my mom to stroke out, when I found out the address of her “secret” newsletter and “academic publishing house,” I submitted my papers. They had, after all, been accepted by Oxford University Press.

  I never even got a rejection letter.

  Several times when I was in DC I touched base with ADD Wilson. We even ended up going out for a drink to discuss the Dark Masters case. The depredations had continued. They’d gotten word from Org Crime as well about a shadowy group looking for “virgins.” Nobody could pin them down. They seemed to be working the whole US. And with the exception of the Seattle job, none of the victims had ever turned up. There were probably more. Several of the girls in Seattle had been listed as “runaways.” Most police departments list any teen who is a missing person as “runaway” whether there is any evidence for that or not.

  I said I’d shake my trees and see if anything fell out.

  It did, but not for a few years. And when it did, it again got personal.

  Thornton, you really were a vicious prick but…Jesus. Ten virgins for a wight? Twenty thousand dollars for a virgin?

  They really were as expensive as the vampire lady said.

  “Got any idea how hard it is to find a virgin these days?” were practically my brother’s last words.

  CHAPTER 17

  Enough about politics
and my fucked up family. Back to monster hunting.

  We’d just taken down an ogre magi and his “court” of three ogres and a satyr.

  It was the sixth “large scale” monster we’d taken down since the lich. Most of them, according to the gnolls who mostly gave me the tips, had moved in recently. We seemed to be in the midst of a monster migration. Good for business, bad for health. Doc Lucius was out for a significant period of time before the ogre magi courtesy of a necromancer with a big flesh golem and I had gotten seriously banged up by members of the ogre’s court. Jesse was in traction. We were getting short on shooters at this rate.

  Something was going on and it wasn’t good. The problem being, we had no idea what. So I decided to shake a tree and went to Saury.

  I ordered my usual then when the server came with the meal I asked to see Naoki-sama.

  Since I was a favored customer, and favored of the yakuza, the owner made his way over quickly.

  “Assei-sama,” Naoki said, bowing. “Is all well? The food is good?”

  The food was always good. Because Saury was very traditional. I’d tried a couple of other bento places just to check and I couldn’t believe what I’d seen. There was this new thing called a “California Roll.” And some of the horrible geck that they put in them! Avocado! Can you believe they put avocado in a sushi roll? It was like using Mo No Ken to cut grass! Sacrilege!

  “Excellent as always, Naoki-sama,” I said, bowing back. “I would ask a favor. I have need to speak to a man of distinction. There are troubling winds and I would have his wisdom. I am aware that this may cause you issues. It is entirely your choice.”

  “It shall be as you desire, Assei-sama,” Naoki said, bowing again. He had the perfect Japanese mien but I could tell he wasn’t looking forward to calling the yakuza boss and telling him the gaijin wanted to chat.

  “This is not a matter of haste or hostility,” I clarified. “I truly need his wisdom.”

  About a week later I’m in Saury again and using chopsticks left-handed courtesy of a particularly powerful kelpie. The damned thing had a kick like a mule. Just another in a long list of monsters that had been turning up. And Oshiro sits down next to me.

  “You never call, you never write,” Oshiro said. “This must be business.”

  “Do too. I sent you a birthday card.”

  “I thought the gray dust in it was a nice touch. What was it?”

  “Vampire dust,” I said. “But I knew it would look like fugu.”

  “Nice shiner,” he said, handing over his order to the sweating server.

  “Which is the business I would, yes, like to discuss,” I said, juggling my roll. “I’m still not quite ambidextrous with chopsticks and my team is down to three hale people because we seem to be in the middle of a monster migration. Any clue why on your end?”

  “The supernatural is your area.”

  “Had to ask,” I said. “What am I going to owe for the honor of your presence?”

  “Nothing,” Oshiro said. “I’m not nearly that traditional. And this has been a very good business arrangement. But you seriously don’t understand what is going on?”

  “I wouldn’t be taking up your time if I did. Do you?”

  “I’ve got an educated guess. It seems simple to me. When you killed that lich you created a power vacuum. Powerful entities have territories. Like Monster Hunters or government or my own humble self. You took out the big cheese in Seattle. Others, those without territories, are now trying to move in. And will continue to do so until a new entity takes this as its territory. And even after one has taken the territory, it will continue to have to defend it until others decide it is not worth the effort.”

  “So you think…every city or whatever has supernatural entities that control that territory?” I said, boggling.

  “I think so,” Oshiro said. “It seems like some large ones have several who respect each other’s territories. Most are ones which are wise enough to stay off the radar. The recent immigrants would not have been so wise.”

  “Is there an answer?” I asked.

  “Wait for one to move in that you can hold your nose for?” Oshiro said, shrugging.

  “So far that hasn’t been happening.” The kelpie had seduced and drowned multiple women before we tracked it down. I think they were blaming it on “The Green River Killer.” And it wasn’t alone. It, too, had a group of hench-things.

  “Find one that wants a territory and ally with it?” Oshiro said, gesturing at the bar. “It is not as if you don’t occasionally make deals with the devil.”

  “Suggestions?”

  “The supernatural is your area,” Oshiro said, standing up. “I have other areas to manage. Good luck. Hope you survive. You’ve been helpful to my bottom line. The Fathers are pleased.”

  When Naoki-sama presented the check he did so with trepidation. There was a “consulting charge” of ten thousand dollars on it.

  I sighed and put it on the Gold Card. Not going to cost anything my ass. TANSTAAFL.

  There Ain’t No Such Thing As A Free Lunch.

  * * *

  I explained the conversation with the Doctors Nelson.

  “I’ve never heard that theory before but it makes sense, I suppose,” Doc Lucius said. “It doesn’t surprise me that a criminal who thinks in terms of controlling turf would have a unique perspective on monster behavior.”

  “Theoretically, we could find something that could come to the Seattle area that we could work with,” Doctor Joan said, biting her lip. “That is a very short list. Both in terms of what we’re willing to work with and what the MCB will allow. If we accept, say, a major vampire, I’m fairly sure they would consider that ‘conspiracy with outer powers’ and our heads would be on the chopping block.”

  “So it would have to be anything that is either not on the PUFF table or for some reason PUFF exempt,” I said. “But powerful enough and capable of using that power to bring order to the monsters in town. That has got to be a very short list.”

  “Assuming such an entity would come to Seattle,” Doctor Lucius said.

  “There has to be one looking for a territory,” I said. “We need more information. I don’t think the gnolls will be much use. They don’t think much beyond ‘Smells like teen urine.’”

  “Talk to the elves?” Doctor Lucius asked.

  “Oh, please, not those,” Doctor Joan said.

  By then I’d learned that elves were not the wise and noble creatures depicted in the Lord of the Rings. But I’d never dealt with them.

  “I’ll go,” I said. “I’ve been sort of wanting to meet them, anyway.”

  “They won’t talk to a human they don’t know,” Doctor Lucius said. “I’ll go.”

  “Don’t fall for their wiles, Chad,” Doctor Joan said. “They can be dangerously seductive.”

  “I’m not worried,” I said, grinning. “Me, too.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” Doctor Joan said, sighing.

  * * *

  “Hey, there,” she said. “I’m Cheyenne. Hot car!”

  The elf girl was about five foot nothing wearing purple hot pants, a red tube top and pink Candies. Red hair and deep blue eyes that were almost purple. She leaned in the window of Honeybear, arms crossed in such a way as to maximize the already noticeable cleavage of the tube top.

  “Thanks.” I gave her whole body a full peruse. Nice legs, great ass. Damn! I was going to like dealing with the elves. “I did all the work myself. I’ve got…great hands,” I added, holding the left one up and wiggling the fingers suggestively.

  Doctor Nelson wouldn’t approve, but he was talking to the leader of the elf colony in the Spokane area. He’d suggested I wait in the car after lugging three cases of beer and five cartons of Marlboro Reds onto the porch of the beaten down trailer.

  “And a nice sword,” Cheyenne said. “Can I see it?”

  I had Mo No Ken on the front seat.

  “See it, yes,” I said, picking up the sword.
“I only let really close, personal, friends touch my sword.”

  I drew Mo No Ken partially out of the scabbard and shifted it so she could peruse the steel.

  “I just love big, sharp, swords,” Cheyenne said, batting her eyes.

  “Are you a sword swallower?” I asked, putting Mo No Ken away.

  “Depends on the sword,” Cheyenne said, batting her eyes again. “I’d probably be willing to swallow yours. All the way down.”

  “Aggh,” I said as Doctor Nelson came walking around the corner. “My boss is back. Maybe we can talk later? I could show you some sword tricks.”

  “I’d like that,” Cheyenne said, leaning back. “Come any time. I’m always looking for somebody cute to come. Bye.”

  “Whoa, she was hot,” I said as we left the trailer park.

  “Check her age for God’s sake, Chad,” Doctor Nelson said. “Some of those elf park girls might look eighty or ninety but they’re only forty or fifty. And that can kind of piss off their families. You don’t want to do that.”

  “Anything?” I asked.

  “No,” Lucius said with a sigh. “The countess agreed with Oshiro’s assessment. But she wasn’t much help in terms of a solution. And another thing about trailer park elf girls, Chad.”

  “I gotcha. Wear a raincoat.”

  “More like bunker gear.”

  * * ** * *

  Back at my apartment I thought about the problem while working out my right arm. It was getting better but still wasn’t a hundred percent. And if I was going to take on an elf maiden, hah, I knew I was going to have to be in shape.

  Not to mention whatever monster appeared next.

  Finally, I picked up the phone and dialed a number in DC.

  “Congressman Terry’s office.”

  “Hi, it’s Chad Gardenier Is Bert around?”

  Time to get some pay back for all that PUFF money I’d sent the Congressman’s way.

  * * *

  “There is only so much information I can give you, Chad,” Bert said, grimacing over his caesar salad.

  Bertram Gregory was Congressman Terry’s senior aide. Heavy-set he was perpetually on a diet that never seemed to work. He’d been the Congressman’s campaign manager and was now the back-room dealer for the Congressman. The man you handed the “campaign finance” checks to while the Congressman shook hands.

 

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