Whisper

by P. S. Power

  “No. Doctor Frankenstein is my mother. I’m Liam Frankenstein. Not a doctor at all. I just read a bit about this today, since Brenner suggested it.”

  Also, he couldn’t see that anything would be owed for the work. Then, the idea had never come up before. Really, he’d never done anything that anyone had found valuable before. So he glanced at Brenner, who smiled back at him.

  “If you want a good story, he’s also only five months old. Those are some nice stiches, too. Really, I’ve never seen better. It looks almost like they were done by a machine.”

  The man on the table nodded then, smiling a bit. His side still glowed, though that was fading a little bit.

  “Okay, no need to upsell the work. I don’t have a lot of cash this month. I can make payments? I’m good for it. It’s a matter of honor, to pay one’s debts.”

  From the expression, the smaller man, Robert, was worried that it would be too much of a burden to bear. Looking at things, what had been used, he shrugged.

  “Can you replace the materials used? The thread, soap and bandages? Then the next person will have them, if the need comes up.” That seemed right to him, though it may not be needed.

  Brenner had money, it seemed, from a trust fund. That was a thing that he was going to have to look up, having only heard about the idea, once. He also didn't know if it might be a joke or not, since it was clear that people, out in the real world, used humor for a lot of different things.

  Not far away from him, Tiffany smiled, then nodded.

  “That works. Luckily this was a thing we could do here. Also, that Liam was around like this. I would have been on the phone calling around half the night to find some med-tech or student to do this for you otherwise. So, if you can add anything to the little clinic here, that will help.”

  The man on the table nodded.

  “Right. I need to start the spell again. I… Can I just lie here for a bit? In a few hours I should be fine to leave. Thanks, Doc Liam. I should have this now.” Then, in a strange language that was very flowing, the man started to chant again.

  Once the place was clean, all traces of blood gone, unless they were under Robert, they all left, walking out into the living room. Sitting at the table at his laptop, Liam looked up a few things. Like trust funds, which apparently were devices used to leave money to children and young adults, which had rules attached.

  Generally, to prevent the person receiving it from spending it all in a foolish fashion. That meant, if Brenner really had that kind of thing, that Liam needed to make certain his shoe making skills were good enough to be worth it to her. Perhaps making such things for her and her friends as well, if he could master the skill. Otherwise whoever had left her the money when they died, if it was the case, would be angry with them for the waste.

  The others spoke to each other as he researched, moving from what had happened there that day to the night before, with Vern and Noah.

  Mitchel went first, seeming serious.

  “Narran, the vampire Queen, contacted me earlier, to ask if we’re really going to allow child rapists to simply walk away without a price in blood. To her, and I presume her people, the idea of Noah being merely beaten for his crimes by the father of the child is a bit iffy. That is, some of them are actually fine with that and others think that death is the only recourse. On the good side that’s mainly academic for them. This wasn’t one of their people as either the victim or perpetrator, so they don’t really care. They just want to be seen as backing up the wolves, since things have traditionally been tense between them, as groups.”

  Taking a sip of now cold coffee, Brenner made an awkward sound. It came from her throat and might have been a reaction to the cool beverage in her mug.

  “I get you on that. The vampires, too. We did the right thing on that, last night. The legal one. It was iffy to let Vern off, after he went for Liam but even regular cops would have probably tried to let the rest of it go at that point. It won’t come up in court. My boss made sure of that, earlier. It took some screaming, let me tell you. Ripley wasn’t pleased with us over it but she backed us up, which is the important part, for now. Anything else come up on this?”

  The dark haired, pale man glanced at her then, as if she might be joking with him.

  “Um, other than the fact that the wolves are demanding a meeting over this issue on Saturday? You and I have to be there. Or else.” The man shrugged and looked at Liam. “You were respectfully requested, Mr. Frankenstein. David, the leader of the local pack, asked me to invite you, as a guest and witness.”

  Brenner let her eyebrows raise then.

  “Really, well that’s nice of him. Normally it’s just demands and threats from that direction. War being the only possible outcome if the coffee is cold and that kind of thing.” She took a sip then and grimaced. “Which this is. I’ll be a moment here. Do you want anything Mitchel? Liam?” She glanced at each of them.

  Mitch nodded.

  “Coffee for me. I’m concerned that we haven’t heard from some of the usual suspects yet. We won’t get anything from the Satanists, since by their rules everything done in this was fine. He with the strongest will to power is right, after all. The Silent Ones might be bothered by it. Their whole thing involves protecting children. The Elementals…” He shrugged at the words. “My people will probably want to have half a dozen problems with everything on this one. It’s the way we are. On the good side, we’re about as organized as a baboon troop. Fine for little things and picnics, not so good at bridge building.”

  The man smiled, looking at Liam for a while, expecting a reaction. For his part, Liam nodded, then started typing.

  It took a while for him to work out what the organization level of a baboon troop really was. That was real enough, in that they had organization, while most humans would have found it tribal and lacking. Bridge building was clearly beyond them. They had only the most rudimentary of tool use, after all.

  As for Elementals the only things about them online were clearly fiction. Made up stories that were barely covered at all, from the scant information on that type of person which was available.

  Then, the same was true of him and what he found were called Prometheans, so he simply decided to ask about the idea. What Mitchel said on it was fascinating.

  Chapter seven

  The tall seeming, rather thin and pale man, smiled at Liam as he spoke.

  “Elementals are, in their simplest modern form, human beings that are born with an affinity for a specific classical element. Earth, air, fire or water.” There was a shrug then as the man went on, not stopping or slowing in his presentation on the subject. “Clearly, this is more about the states of matter than what reality is made up of. You know, solid, liquid, gas and plasma. Each property tends to carry specific abilities with it. The problem isn’t in the powers though, since while real enough, they tend not to be all that strong. I mean, I can cause a nice forty mile per hour wind, for instance and do a few other things like that, which is considered good for an air elemental. Most fire types struggle to light a candle… Interestingly, even though it should be static in nature, the earth types kind of have the most interesting talents. Most of them can shape rock or metal with their hands. The very powerful can make large changes, if slowly.”

  Liam thought about it for a moment, reflecting on what had been said earlier. Finally, he nodded.

  “But… These people are not prone to getting along or at least they don’t have a system to rule them that’s…” His words failed him then. The idea he wanted to go with was right there, in his head.

  It was even trying to get out into the world. The problem was that he simply didn't have the range to explain what he wanted to say, yet.

  Mitchel smiled at him, sighing as he did it.

  “Exactly. We should be one large group, with solid rules. Instead we tend to collect in little tribes of about ten people. The real power of my people is in working together. We know it too. Which doesn’t mean that getting a
water type to work with a fire Elemental isn’t like pulling teeth without Novocain. In this case… Well, my guess is that each group in a three state area will probably be lodging a complaint about something or other in what took place with you yesterday.”

  Brenner nodded, seeming annoyed by the idea. She reached out, to pat Mitch on the shoulder, her pale, but nicely freckled face seeming annoyed for a few moments. Not with the man she was touching, or even Liam, he didn't think. At least she didn’t stare at either of them, glancing only and then looking at the far wall, where there was an analog clock. That claimed it was nearly midnight.

  A nice cartoon clock with a high-pitched voice had helped him learn to read such things, not long before. A thing which was coming in handy already.

  The red-haired lady took another sip of her cool coffee and then shook her head, wincing at the beverage as she did it. It seemed to be unpleasant, though for some reason she didn't set it down or cease in her efforts to consume it. Given that there was warm and fresh coffee in the other room, that probably meant something about her personality. Liam simply wasn’t certain what that would be.

  She grimaced, this time about her own words.

  “It’s a pain in the ass. Not that I don’t get it. The Elementals are one of the weakest groups that we deal with. Even the Satanists are more powerful and organized and they don’t have special talents at all. They just entreat other beings to do things for them. That means every time someone is threatened or has a run in with anyone more powerful than they are, certain groups lodge a complaint, trying to make certain they’ll be kept safe, later.” The woman rolled her eyes and snorted.

  It was an unusual sound that Liam wasn’t certain he could have copied. He didn’t try at the moment, in front of other people, because it would be rude to do things like that, he thought. Not that he didn’t need to practice getting his facial responses and noises right, so that he could carry on conversations later. In the mean time he’d simply have to hope that he didn't need to roll his eyes or make animal like sounds before he could work on it.

  Brenner started to go on, only to be interrupted by another pounding on the door. It was loud again. More aggressive in some fashion than it had been when Rob and Mitchel had gotten there, earlier. This time there was a booming that seemed half intent on breaking the door open. No doubt with men running in screaming incoherently, shortly after that.

  This time, instead of sitting, freezing in terror, not knowing what to do, Liam took to his feet. Standing to freeze in place, instead. At least he didn't know what else he could do if the situation repeated itself. The others both stood as well, with Brenner making a low, deep sound in her throat.

  “Holy fuck. Do you even know what time it is? Freaking mannerless morons coming at all hours.” The words weren’t whispered, being rather well projected in fact, toward the door in question. Then she called out, after stepping to the side, her small tube weapon appearing in her hand, having been hidden in a clever pocket to her right-hand side. “Who is it?” She called the words out in a singsong voice, which sounded pleasant. Her face wasn’t matching what she said. Not even to the smallest extent.

  “Brenner! Let me in. It is I, Oaks.” There was more pounding, which didn't make sense at all. After all, the man who was speaking had to know that Tiffany had heard him, being that they were speaking to one another directly.

  There was a second eye roll. One that was harder and held more force in some indefinable fashion.

  “One minute. Stop trying to rip my door apart, will you. I’m coming.”

  When the door was opened, the person that was called Oaks loomed in the opening. He was a large being, thick with muscle, his head below the top of the frame, though only due to stooping. His shoulders nearly touched on either side of the door frame. For clothing, the man had on loose, but very old looking and drab things. A jacket in gray that seemed to be frayed at the edges. Slacks that were a different shade of the same basic nothing color. A plain tan shirt on under that, with stains down the front.

  The shoes lacked polish, and held scars from their long-term wear.

  His hair was long and pulled back in a tail. His face was heavy, due to his uneven and powerful bone structure. More so than anyone else Liam had ever seen. His cheekbones pushed at his skin so hard that they seemed ready to poke through the flesh. The chin was so broad and boney that it looked as if it would make a fine handle for the door of a car, inside. As if the thing was a ledge turned upside down.

  Oaks also smelled. Different people carried various scents, but this was the first time that he’d encountered anyone that just carried a truly unpleasant odor with them. The bad men had smelled of something slightly acrid, but it was clear they all had on perfumes and deodorants as well. Brenner was scented that way, plus like flowers, for some reason.

  Mitchel was deeper in that way. Liam didn't understand how that worked, but he wasn’t unpleasant at all.

  For himself, for all that Vern the wolf had suggested he smelled funny, Liam knew that his personal scent was faint and lacking in a lot of ways, compared to most others. Mary had explained that he wasn’t a good host for bacteria, which was what allowed most people to smell bad, if they didn't wash frequently. Not that it excused him from doing that as well. His mother had always insisted on being clean, day to day.

  Oaks however seemed to carry around a wall of reeking air with him as he moved. Pungent and almost aggressive in how it spilled into the room. A thing that neither Mitchel or Brenner responded to. Liam did the same then, simply not breathing, instead of taking offense. It didn’t make the air cleaner, while still helping to lessen the intensity of scent he was exposed to.

  If he needed to speak or the evening wore on too long, then he’d need to breathe again, of course. Eventually. At least he thought that was the case. For the time being it worked so he moved back a few feet, floating back and to the side. That way he wouldn’t be seen as aggressive to the foul-smelling giant of a man that had come for a visit. If that was his goal there at all.

  He didn't take a long time to explain himself.

  “Agent Brenner! Mitchel Warner of the Accord. My current home is being threatened by the police, again. They came earlier and threatened me with their puny weapons and kicked over my fire, destroying the meal I had hunted for myself. I did not end their days, as to my promise to you all that I signed. I demand you remove them from my lands, or I will kill them all and eat them for my supper! I was promised such aid in return for not killing humans in their own lands. If it is not forthcoming, then the accord is broken and I will not be bound by it!”

  The words could have sounded playful or even charming in a rough way, Liam supposed. If he’d tried to say the same things, it would have been that way. If anyone could hear him at all. This man, or being, Oaks, made it sound like an actual plan. What he would do if the people there didn’t come up with a way to fix things for him.

  Closing her eyes for a minute, she nodded.

  “Right. Them again. They don’t get the whole Bridge Troll idea and were probably told to get the homeless people out of the park. This… I can make some calls. It might take a while, if the cops there are getting orders from above.”

  Next to Brenner, Mitchel nodded. He didn't add anything though. Liam thought about the words and went over his research from that day. Certain things had been mentioned to him, in writing on the internet.

  Whispering he considered things out loud.

  “The police are the bad men that want to fucking kill you if you move and who steal your mother? Or is that a different group?”

  Interestingly both Mitchel and Brenner winced at his soft words and Oaks turned to him, taking in what he looked like, finally. After several seconds of rather direct staring, the troll took a deep breath.

  “Aye! That sounds like them. My own mother is safe, living in the old country where it is known that accosting my kind is not a thing to do lightly, I give thanks. Now, you should come and aid me in routing th
ese fiends from my home, under the bridge.” The being had turned back to Brenner, his voice dropping to a low growling tone as he spoke the last words.

  It was Mitchel who nodded then.

  “Let her call first, Oaks, and see if words can handle this for you. What losses did you receive at the hands of the police? You mentioned a dinner lost?”

  “Indeed! A fine dog that was being roasted on a spit, kicked without thought and with malice into my small river. My entire fire was destroyed and doused and my few belongings, my other clothing, also thrown into the waters.” There was no threat given this time. Just a hard clenching of the jaw. It looked fierce. Perhaps more so than the hard words from earlier had seemed.

  Brenner nodded.

  “Okay. We’ll replace the clothing. How about a pig instead of a dog? I don’t know where to get that kind of thing at this time of night… Let me call around for a bit? In the meantime, just for the night, why don’t you make yourself at home in the woods out back. The police won’t bother you here. I’ll see if I can get in touch with anyone and have them leave you alone.”

  The large being, his eyes looking wild and a little dull witted, nodded.

  “A fine pig? One with much good meat on it. I will be in the woods. Bring that to me, when you have it. I grow tired and would sleep. A thing I would already be doing, if not for the ones who seek to die at my hands.” The rough fellow stormed to the front door, slamming it hard enough to shake the walls of the house as he left.

  Brenner just held still for a while, finally making an annoyed face, which was aimed at Liam.

  “From now on don’t chime in with your opinion of the cops, will you? We get that you don’t like the ones from earlier. That doesn’t mean that the ones Oaks was dealing with were the same.”

  Liam thought for a moment, his impulse was to nod and agree, since he truly didn't know a lot about the world. There were things that didn't make sense to him, however.

  “They sounded much the same. They are bad men that come and threaten. Who break your things and take your home… How is this different?” He knew that one, already. Oaks had wisely protected his own mother, by having her be far away when they’d come for him.