by Susan Lain
The declaration, proclaimed with a composed tone by a levelheaded person, made Alek officially feel five inches tall. "I'm socially inefficient. I guess I put inept in…ineptitude."
As Alek's cheeks flamed with shame—God, I can't even find a good posh word—Eliot's chuckle brought him out of his funk.
"For someone who expresses themselves with such linguistic prowess, using grand, expert terms, yes Alek, you are socially awful. But that's okay. If you were great at everything, I'd really hate you."
Surprised, Alek locked gazes with Eliot—and saw amusement and warmth there. Eliot was not mad at Alek anymore, if he had been at all. Alek had to admit that Eliot really was a nice man. He'd grown to appreciate Eliot's professional resourcefulness and spunky character. Now Alek had gotten to know the man's empathetic heart too and his past mistakes, errors he'd learned from. Eliot was someone Alek could look up to and respect.
Alek found himself smiling. He rarely did that. "Do you hate me?"
Eliot chuckled. "Nah. You're not perfect. Welcome to the human race."
"Actually, race is a misleading term to describe a species—" Alek started to explain.
Eliot's laugh interrupted him. "Man, you're a regular riot."
Alek blushed but was not offended. Eliot made him feel better about himself.
And that was something Alek didn't often experience, so was grateful for that.
*~*~*
"What do you think about the incident yesterday?" Eliot asked as they walked toward the CEPA building after breakfast and a short drive.
Alek had anticipated the question since it had plagued him last night as well. "The attack could more than likely be connected to our case, which means someone we've talked to lately has a problem with the investigation."
Eliot frowned. "Hmm. The only people we've dealt with are CEPA clients who came to us to complain about gas gremlins. Doctor Howe, Roger Park, and Duke Arrington. We haven't gotten to others yet."
Alek glanced at Eliot. "There's one more person. Francis Cook."
Eliot burst into laughter. "My boss? I'm sorry, Alek, but he's the sweetest guy in the world who can barely tie his own shoe laces some days. His areas of specialty are number-crunching and paperwork, not murder and mayhem."
Though far from swayed, Alek decided to give Eliot this one. Cook seemed an improbable suspect.
"You were a cop and in the army before that," Eliot reminded Alek needlessly. "The attack could be tied to you somehow. And now, as you yourself pointed out, you're a federal agent, so to speak. Any of your past careers could be at fault—"
"It's unlikely," Alek interjected. "I haven't been in active duty in the army for eight years, and my last case with the police force closed nearly two years ago."
Eliot gave him an odd look. "Um, how old are you, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Thirty-one. I'll be thirty-two in November. You?"
"Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine in April next year." Eliot didn't stop staring at Alek, a curious flame in his green eyes. "How long were you in the military and what did you do there?"
"Six years, between the ages seventeen and twenty-three. I was in the military police as a dog handler. It was a good job."
Eliot smirked. "You were an MP and a dog lover? Why am I not surprised?"
Alek suppressed a smile. He was starting to like Eliot ribbing him. That was new. "I like order and I love animals. Seemed the best fit for me."
Eliot chuckled. "I agree. And after that you joined the police force?"
"Yes. Again, seemed the right thing to do. I basically continued along the same vein as in the military: I joined the Metropolitan Police Department's Canine Unit. Stayed with them for over five years, nearly six. Then Loreblast happened, and I was recruited by MERF. End of story."
Eliot shook his head, a twinkle in his eyes. "No, a new beginning to the next chapter."
Alek shrugged but inwardly liked the idea. "Maybe so."
Eliot sighed. "My life's been much more uneventful in comparison."
"Considering your active sex life at university, I wouldn't say that," Alek murmured as he leaned in like a coconspirator.
Eliot chuckled and nudged Alek's arm with his shoulder. It was such an endearing gesture, born of like minds, that Alek felt an untimely tug in his cock.
"Anyway," Eliot said as he opened the front door to the CEPA building for Alek to step in. "I was wondering, there's a third option to the attack. What if it was the TLA?"
Alek stopped in the middle of the lobby, the white marble gleaming, the air cool and fresh, and people milling about or passing by in a rush. He met Eliot's gaze. "I considered that when the whole thing happened, but I dismissed it."
"Why?" Eliot asked, frowning. "Considering what happened yesterday, it's possible."
"Anything's possible," Alek agreed after a pause. Not like he could refute having thoughts along the same line. Eliot simply voiced his concerns first. "The TLA has raided MERF facilities, it's true. But utilizing petty thugs to assault government employees with deadly intent inside a government facility? I find that hard to believe."
While initially about to argue, Eliot snapped his fingers as his brow cleared in an instant. "You've got a point. I mean, why attack MERF labs first and one of its agent right after in the same building? A tad redundant, I guess. Also, if they're for animal and mythkin rights, they're probably against violence too." Then he snorted. "Though they did bomb MERF, so…perhaps their values of freedom and life only include lifeforms than aren't humans. No one died, sure, but…Maybe we just got lucky this time."
Grudgingly Alek admitted that was indeed a possibility. Even ecological terrorists capable of bombing buildings could take a step further. Was life holy? All Alek knew was that it was cheap. Most people only cared about themselves and their nearest and dearest. Damn everyone else.
"Some folks sure do have flexible morality," Alek admitted, heading toward the elevators with a determined stride, Eliot in tow. "They claim to protect life but use cruel methods that kill people. The end justifies the means. That argument is the epitome of lazy ethics and a lack of true standards."
Eliot chuckled as they entered the elevator and chose a floor. "Gee, tell me how you really feel."
Alek wisely chose to dismiss Eliot's smartass comment. "I'll call a couple of my contacts and see what the chatter is in the ecoterrorist circles. Keeping a lid on things is a hard skill to learn effectively."
"That's true," Eliot granted. "People seek a sympathetic ear and for someone to agree with them. Even if the issue is ethically problematic."
Alek squared his shoulders, scowling at the elevator doors. "An individual's morality and ethics are tested often. It's easy to say what you would do if it's not you who has to bear the brunt of the consequences. A man's true character is revealed when he's faced with such a choice, between the bad outcome and the worse one."
Eliot had no time to respond because they'd reached his work floor. As soon as they exited the elevator, Francis rushed over to them, a distraught look on his face. He grabbed Eliot's hands and seemed to struggle with words.
Alek was immediately on edge and on guard. What now?
"Eliot, Agent Saroyan, thank God you're here." Francis glimpsed around, as if worried they were being overheard, so he pulled Eliot close to the wall where fewer people stood or walked by. There Francis lowered his voice to stage-whisper, "One of the complainants you spoke with, Roger Park…he's dead."
"Wh-what? How?" Eliot's voice rose and quivered. Alek noted how Eliot leaned into him, as if seeking his support. Alek shifted weight from one foot to another so that it seemed natural for him to lean into Eliot too.
Francis shook his head, his panic starting to show. "The police say that…that his gas gremlin killed him."
Alek had to inhale in shock. His learned mind, his love for animals, his very soul rejected the notion as madness. Could it be possible?
Was there a mythkin…murderer?
Chapter Fifteen
>
"Do you believe it's possible? That a mythkin could commit murder?"
Eliot was still shaken. The news had hit him pretty hard. He hadn't liked Roger Park, but he hadn't wished him any harm.
Alek grunted on the driver's seat. They were headed toward the scene of the incident.
"I'm a scientist and an agent. Faith isn't really my area of expertise. I'll reevaluate the situation if there is adequate cause to do so."
Eliot smiled shortly. "So, you'll believe it when you see it, basically."
Alek frowned, clearly baffled. "Isn't that what I said?"
Eliot suppressed an untimely chuckle. "At least the, uh, death was sort of consistent with the other cases. Park's body was found in his car at another traffic circle, the Sheridan Circle. He'd died of…of carbon dioxide poisoning. But the windows were open."
"That is not proof that the gas gremlin killed him," Alek refuted with a cool, logical tone. "Gas gremlins produce petrol and digest carbon dioxide, not the other way around. It makes no sense. Nature doesn't work like that, flipping things around at random."
Hope renewed itself in Eliot's heart. Good that Alek kept a level head and observed this affair with an objective, rational eye. Alek was right. Gas gremlins worked in a specific way, same as all other lifeforms, humans and mythkin alike. They didn't suddenly switch their basic biology upside down.
"There are toxic mythkin, aren't there?" Eliot asked. He hadn't seen those labs at MERF, but he knew they existed. Dirty energy mythkin could be, as their name suggested, dirty.
"All mythkin have their ill effects," Alek replied cautiously. Eliot understood. Prejudices, once established, could take ages to dispel. "Gas gremlins create petrol by excreting it through their pores, coal ghouls excrete lumps of coal and peat, oil hellions vomit oil, and so on. The only species of mythkin MERF is aware of that is totally toxic to human life is smog gnomes. Thankfully they're few and far between."
Eliot blinked. He'd never even heard of smog gnomes. The world of mythkin was greater than he'd known. "What are they like, these smog gnomes?"
Alek sighed. "They wreaked havoc in the most polluted cities in the world, in China, India, Saudi Arabia, and Mexico. As the atmosphere cleared a bit over the past year, they stopped making such a racket and causing such devastation. When it became apparent that mythkin are non-polluting, the ravages of fossil fuels became a non-issue. Even as cities grew to have higher quality air, smog gnomes didn't vanish altogether, proof positive there's still ways to go. But their number has greatly decreased over the past year."
"How come I haven't heard of them before?" Eliot pondered. Some mythkin were publicly very well known, such as gas gremlins used in vehicles, while others remained a mystery.
Alek shrugged. "They're barely visible. Smog shrouds them almost one hundred percent." He glanced at Eliot with a smirk. "Besides, they're not around much anymore, so MERF decided to not bother the populace with information about any more supernatural creatures."
Eliot harrumphed. "Wasn't that nice of you," he drawled, oozing sarcasm.
Alek barked out a quick laugh, saying nothing.
*~*~*
The General Sheridan memorial statue on horseback stood in the center of the traffic circle named after him. Green lawn surrounded the raised pedestal, yellowing trees lined the circle, and imposing white embassy buildings circumvented the road. Not a lot of cars were around, and neither were people.
Alek parked on the outer edge of the traffic circle and walked with Eliot to the other side of the road where yellow police tape blocked a section off. The fresh scent of autumn, bright sunshine, and an open park didn't make Eliot feel any better about approaching a so-called murder scene.
There weren't any curious bystanders around, for which Eliot was grateful. A uniformed police officer held a post by the tape, and a forensic scientist, wearing white coveralls from head to toe, knelt by a car door left ajar. Eliot could make out an unmoving leg sticking out under it, and he gulped, his step faltering.
Alek grazed his arm. "You okay?"
Eliot was touched by his companion's concern, even as he felt distinctly unsettled. "Never seen a dead body in real life."
Alek blinked, a tiny scrunch between his eyebrows. He obviously didn't know what to say to alleviate Eliot's nervousness. Still, the question and the touch seemed like they were enough for now.
"I'll be fine," Eliot assured Alek, offering a small smile and a nod of affirmation. It wasn't entirely true, but Eliot wanted to be able to collect himself.
After a short pause, Alek nodded and resumed his swift pace toward the vehicle parked on the wrong side of the road, its position crooked, as if the driver had hit the brakes and skidded to a halt there.
According to eyewitnesses, no one had vacated the car. Eliot estimated that it was that and manner of the death that had led the police to the (hopefully wrong) conclusion that the gas gremlin did it. In the end, Eliot wasn't sure he could blame them for their assumptions. Apart from MERF employees, not many knew much about the mythkin. Most didn't want to, preferring blessed ignorance.
"Halt," the uniformed officer called out with a stern voice, blocking Eliot and Alek's path to the vehicle and its deceased occupant. "What's your business here?"
Alek whipped out his MERF ID. "Stand aside. I'm Agent Alek Saroyan of—"
Eliot winced at Alek's snotty tone, but he didn't get a chance to add conciliatory remarks.
The officer shook his head and cut in, "Sir, I don't care if you're the president himself. I'm under strict orders not to let anyone through."
Alek growled. "You're obstructing a federal investigation, officer, and I must insist—"
This time it was Eliot who interjected, gently pushing Alek aside and addressing the police officer. "You're under orders? I get that. We are too. We're trying to prevent any further loss of life. If a gas gremlin did this…horrible crime, we need to be sure. My colleague and I represent CEPA and MERF. Who better to find out the truth?"
The office frowned, appearing hesitant. "I…I'm sorry but I can't allow—"
"We simply want to examine the gas gremlin," Eliot intervened with a soft voice, hoping to elicit the man's sympathies. "We won't interfere with the police inquiry. That's not our forte or our jurisdiction. We just need to study the gas gremlin. I'm sure none of us want anyone else to die, am I right?"
This time the office glanced over his shoulder at the car, biting his lower lip. Finally he let out a small sigh and faced Eliot, lowering his voice as he said, "Look, I can't help you. The creature isn't here anymore."
"What?" Eliot asked, confused. Had the mythkin died in the incident too?
The officer winced, shifting weight from one foot to another, radiating agitation. "A group of five men in black arrived a few minutes after us. They waved badges at us. Before my partner or I could stop them, we got a call to let them take over the scene."
"Who were they?" Eliot asked, completely confused.
The officer glanced at Alek under his brow, a surly glare. "They claimed they were federal agents too." The man shook his head and glimpsed at the parked car. "Then they opened the hood and shot the oil hellion with some kind of…I don't know, a ray gun?"
Eliot and Alek exchanged flummoxed glances.
The officer continued, as if stuck now in the memory. "The creature was…vaporized. It screamed…God, so loud."
Eliot faced Alek, shocked to the core. "Alek?"
Alek blinked, eyes wide and mouth gaping, seemingly as baffled and surprised as Eliot. At the sound of Eliot's voice, Alek snapped out of his trance. "Energy-based weapons? MERF doesn't have anything like that!"
A horrible thought occurred to Eliot and he gasped. "Oh my God, Alek. What if the TLA has heard about these, for lack of a better word, men in black and their futuristic weapons—and think MERF is responsible? That's why they're accusing you of experimenting with mythkin and assaulting your facilities across the country?"
"We aren't capturing or killing
mythkin. That's not what MERF does or has ever done." Alek rubbed his forehead, seemingly more rattled than Eliot had ever seen him—and that worried him. "First of all, we're focused on pure research, to understand mythkin better. Second, I don't know of any government branch capable of such science fiction armaments." A disbelieving chuckle escaped Alek's throat. "Who were these people?"
Eliot grunted. "That's just one of a thousand questions we have right now." He fidgeted in place, afraid to voice his concerns. "What if they're the people who attacked us in the parking lot?"
Alek shrugged, appalled. Clearly he had no answers to give.
Eliot addressed the officer, "What about the gas gremlin? Did they kill it too?"
"No." The police officer pointed to the back of the car where the gas tank lid hung open, as if ripped from its hinges. "They used the same weapon at the tank. Only the beam wasn't red but blue. They pulled the gas gremlin out of the tank and stashed it inside a heavy black metal case. Then they drove off."
If Eliot had previously wondered if something else was happening behind the scenes, as Alek had suggested, now he believed it. He spoke to Alek, "Is that even possible? How could they trap a trans-phase lifeform without its consent? Why didn't it simply become incorporeal or phase through the case?"
Alek frowned and started to pace in a small circle, his mind working on problems Eliot had trouble following. So he waited. Alek kept shaking his head and mumbling to himself. After a while, his words became more coherent.
"The basics of phase shifting, as we understand it, means that matter and energy particles of the mythkin oscillate in a different frequency than the matter and energy of our world. The two vibrating waveforms are out of sync. Basically out of phase. It could be a temporal dimension but that's unlikely in this case; or it could be a parallel universe, an alternate version of our world, separated by a different oscillation frequency of matter and energy, like an invisible protective barrier."