Gremlins are Malfunctioning

by Susan Lain

  Eliot's head was spinning. But he didn't dare interrupt Alek in the hopes that the scientist-agent was onto something. He prayed an insight was forthcoming. And he wasn't disappointed.

  "Theoretically," Alek murmured, "if one could modulate the phase waveform to match it with our own, it would become coherent and tangible. In essence, the phase wave would align with our phase. Whatever was intangible and un-sensible, if that's a word, would manifest in our world because it would be in tune with us. However, nothing we know, no technology, can do that." All of a sudden he stopped mid-step, his furrowed brow clearing. "Unless…oh God, could it be?"

  Eliot swallowed down his fears. "What, Alek?"

  Alek met Eliot's gaze. "It's what we observed with the rainomalies, remember? How they could alter their surface density and bounce right off solid objects, like the floor?"

  "Yes." Eliot, though a scientist himself, wasn't prepared for a physics lesson.

  "What if the mythkin aren't simply trans-phase lifeforms?" Alek asked, his eyes blazing in inspiration. It was hard not to get caught up in his enthusiasm. Eliot held his breath as Alek blurted, "What if they actually phase shift solid matter around them too?"

  Eliot had a headache. "Uh, how does that help us?"

  Alek breathed out a disbelieving laugh. "What if we've missed it all this time? We've been wondering how it is that the mythkin can sometimes go through matter and other times not, flying or crawling or walking on top of objects in our phase. If they can affect both matter and energy in our world, it would make so much sense and answer—"

  "That's swell," Eliot cut in loudly, reining in Alek's mad genius. "But it doesn't help us in the here and now. Unless that theory magically explains how those men in black managed to kill one mythkin and trap another. Hmm?"

  Alek halted mid-sentence, mouth open, eyes blinking. Then red slashes appeared over his cheeks. "Sorry. Got a little carried away." He cleared his throat and seemed to collect himself, his back straightening. "What if the change the mythkin affect in the matter around them has a sort of feedback loop? What if the weapons—I refuse to call them phasers—somehow affect the waveform of matter and energy? A mythkin's oscillation frequency would be disrupted and it would become decoherent with its natural phase. That could theoretically make its phase wave temporarily align with ours."

  Eliot pulled at his own hair in frustration. "I'm sorry, man, but that all sounds like a load of techno-babble. How long would the effect last? Surely not long enough for a mythkin to be stuffed inside a space age suitcase, even if was, say, unconscious?"

  Alek snapped his fingers repeatedly, pacing again. "Unless it's not about the substance of the case but what's inside. A device designed to disrupt the recovery of the mythkin's natural phase oscillation frequency?"

  "That is science fiction," Eliot countered, trying to remain rational. "Apart from maybe a particle accelerator, what could do that? Unless someone robbed CERN without the whole world hearing about it and then shrunk the machine down to a microscopic size—"

  "That's why they don't like music," Alek muttered without preamble, seeming to unintentionally cut Eliot off. "Resonance. MERF doesn't completely understand the way the mythkin utilize and embody energy. What if a part of it is vibrational? If that were the case, then external force, such as musical harmonies—"

  "Would cause the oscillation amplitude to change frequencies," Eliot finished for him. His high school physics had kicked in somewhere along the way. He was glad he could contribute in some small fashion, even with the doubt he still felt.

  Alek offered his lopsided half-smile. "Their energy may manifest in many different forms, yes, but part of that could be vibrational. Resonance is alignment of objects or forces till they are in tune with one another. Big changes to the oscillation of their natural phase frequency would result in a disruption. If that vibration matched with ours, they would become solid in our phase, even if only for a short time."

  "Long enough to trap or kill a mythkin," Eliot concluded slowly as the true depths of their theory became clear to them. "A phase resonance weapon created for the sole purpose of murdering mythkin."

  Alek nodded. "And the case they used to imprison the gas gremlin could be nothing more complicated than passive or active vibration isolation which is well known technology and widely used too."

  Eliot released a sound he barely recognized as one of his own making, an inhuman bellow deep in his throat. He was scared. "B-but how…? And who…?"

  Alek rested a hand over Eliot's shoulder, his warmth solidity seeping into Eliot, granting him a boon of courage.

  "This isn't over yet." Alek faced the officer who had been listening to them the whole time with a look of silent awe. "Who ordered you to keep this site cleared of federal agents?"

  The officer worried his lower lip, frowning. Eliot had had enough of the man's reticence.

  "We all have superiors and marching orders. But we are not mindless soldiers. If and when we encounter a command that we know is wrong, we have a higher duty to question it, even disobey. Your job as a police officer is to protect and serve. So is ours. Please do the right thing and help us."

  This time there was no pause, no indecision. The officer straightened up and nodded. "It was the Assistant Chief of Police of the Homeland Security Bureau, Geoffrey Newell."

  Eliot thanked him and shook hands, Alek followed suit, and then they returned to their car. Only there did they dare to voice their opinions.

  "Alek, this is monstrous," Eliot whispered, his voice cracking. He stared out through the windshield at the vehicle where a dead man still lay. Right then an ambulance drove up and stopped, the sirens silent, and two EMTs emerged, one of them carrying a gurney. Eliot didn't mourn for Roger Park. He felt for the oil hellion that had been killed and for the gas gremlin that had been taken.

  Eliot had never believed in conspiracy theories but right now he was being forced to change his mind.

  "I know." Alek might have sounded cool to anyone who wasn't well versed in his special brand of emotion. But Eliot was coming to learn Alek's intricacies. He heard the slight tremor of rage in his tone.

  Eliot had to direct that emotion somewhere. "I recognize the name, Newell, from the wall."

  Frowning in bafflement, Alek turned to him. "What wall?"

  Eliot sighed. "There was a photograph on the wall of Duke Arrington's study where he was shaking hands with a man who held a plaque honoring Geoffrey Newell. If not friends, they know each other. It's not proof but it's a lead, don't you think?"

  Alek tapped on the steering wheel, a dark focus emerging to control his features once more. "I'm no expert but it seems to me that Duke Arrington would have the resources to fund a private army, be it for protection or illegal and unethical weapons research." He locked gazes with Eliot. "What would you say to another house call to the ex-senator? It could land us in a heap of trouble."

  Eliot growled, so angry he could barely see straight. "Someone murdered an innocent creature and abducted another. I want answers. Let's go."

  "Yes." Alek started the ignition and steered the car into light mid-morning traffic.

  Eliot didn't think about the consequences of their actions, not even for a second. He merely stared out the window at the changing scenery, the old buildings, the lines of trees, the blue skies and sunshine. Yet all he really saw were shadows and death. He had a funny feeling that was where their case was headed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  "I wonder why the mythkin don't respond positively to musical harmonies when they seem to love mechanical resonance." Alek knew he was just stirring up theoretical shit that could wait for another day. But he had to think about something or he'd lose his mind.

  "For the bad guys to be able to employ such drastic measures to capture and kill mythkin, they'd have to know a lot about them," Eliot interjected.

  Alek cast a sideways glance at him. Eliot's typical smile was absent. His lips were a thin white line of concentration, his eyes burned with
a cold fire, and his stance was like that of a statue of suppressed rage. Alek knew him well enough now to realize this wasn't normal for him, and that made him worry. The death and abduction of mythkin had turned the man into a suffering human being pretending to be a block of stone.

  Alek could relate. He often did the same. But that didn't suit Eliot.

  "You think someone at MERF could be aiding them?" Alek asked in an effort to keep Eliot talking and responsive instead of wallowing in a doom and gloom mood.

  Eliot shrugged. "Maybe. Or at the TLA." He shook his head, clearly vexed. "Why do this? Why hurt or destroy mythkin? We need them."

  "Maybe it's a control thing," Alek offered dryly. "Some humans have a hunger for power, greed that knows no bounds."

  "Yeah, perhaps," Eliot murmured. "Or they could be trying to extract their energy for nefarious reasons."

  Alek smiled shortly. "And you claim I'm over-imaginative."

  Eliot gave him a befuddled look. "When have I said that?"

  "Calling my theories science fiction?" Alek replied with a quirk of an eyebrow.

  Eliot pursed his lips and snorted. "That's hardly the same." He didn't smile yet, but his tone had lightened. Alek was relieved at the change, no matter how minor.

  He was interrupted from what he might have said next when the gas gremlin growled so loud and banged so hard on the walls of the gas tank that the whole car shook and jolted. Alek nearly drove into a ditch—just as he noticed they were in a traffic circle, at Ward Circle Park.

  "Holy shit," Alek muttered under his breath. Having read complaints about this happening should have prepared him but he was still taken by surprise. "Traffic circle."

  "Pull over," Eliot instructed immediately.

  "No. I have a better idea." Alek swerved to a direction away from the path to the McLean district where Arrington lived. He drove northwest, even though the car stalled and jumped every few seconds, likely giving them both whiplash, until he reached Tenley Circle. There he stopped in front of a mechanic's shop and gas station. "Here we are."

  "Where exactly is that?" Eliot asked in confusion even as he exited the car.

  "Come on." Alek headed inside under the metal garage door that was raised only halfway. Inside he heard the clamor of tools on machines, smelled the stench of engine oils and steel, and saw rows of cars, some raised, others not, and half a dozen men and women in dirty overalls lying under cars or standing over open engine blocks. "Hey, you seen Baz?"

  A young Latina with braided hair, strong muscles, combat boots, and tattoos on her arms and neck turned to Alek. She gave him a long, suspicious look. Then she nodded. "Yeah, he's in the office."

  Alek headed past the vehicles being repaired toward a small room at the end. Dirty white window blinds prevented a view inside, but the flaky blue door was ajar. Alek knocked and entered without waiting to be told to come in.

  A burly man with a brown beard and chocolate-brown eyes raised his head as Alek walked in. He was compact and heavy-set, short but muscular, wearing black coveralls, the sleeves tied at the waist, and a white muscle shirt, brown chest hairs sticking out at the top and brown hair all over his arms too. A tattoo of a brown bear decorated his left shoulder and upper arm.

  The man chuckled and a twinkle appeared in his eyes as he stood and ambled toward Alek. "Alek Saroyan, you old devil. What the hell are you doing here?" He had a thick western accent, as he was originally from Colorado.

  Alek made to shake the man's hand, but the mechanic just laughed, shaking his head, and pulled Alek into a fierce and thorough bear-hug, actually lifting Alek off the floor. "Okay, Baz, you can put me down now," Alek managed to choke out in between pants.

  Finally released, Alek sighed in relief. Baz still held onto his shoulders, though, and asked, "What's up, my friend?"

  Alek, his cheeks flushed, turned to Eliot who stood in the doorway, looking half-pissed off, half-baffled.

  Alek waved him closer. "Eliot, this is Basil Lewis, the finest mechanic this side of the Mississippi. Baz, this is Eliot Tate, a colleague of mine with CEPA."

  Eliot smiled politely but not a lot, Alek observed, as he shook Baz's hand. Baz studied the young man with great interest, far too much for Alek's liking.

  "Baz, something's wrong with my car," Alek guided the conversation right on the topic at hand. This was why they'd come, and he didn't want to waste time getting into Baz's place in his life. There would be time for that when he and Eliot were alone again.

  Baz snorted. "That sweet ride? The way you maintain it? No fucking way." He crooked his fingers. "Gimme the keys. I'll drive her in and check under the hood. My magic fingers will do the trick and she'll be purring again soon enough." Baz flashed an irreverent and flirty grin at Alek who pretended he'd seen nothing.

  And then he left the room, keys in hand.

  Alek met Eliot's gaze. He cleared his throat, feeling quite out of his comfort zone. "Baz is a friend. An old friend." Alek knew repeating things would only make things sound weirder, and he wasn't wrong, considering how Eliot's eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest. Alek tried again, "He and I used to fuck but not anymore. We were and are better as friends. He's a friend."

  Eliot leaned against the doorjamb. His gaze followed Baz hurrying out of the building to fetch Alek's ride. "He's a good mechanic?" His tone was gravelly.

  Alek knew in an instant that Eliot was jealous and insecure, and he closed the gap between them. He didn't touch Eliot who'd gone rigid and scowling at Alek's approach. "He's the best." Alek lowered his voice as he added, "Baz used to be my sub ages ago. If he still were, I wouldn't have slept with you last night."

  Eliot ducked his head, hiding his face behind locks of golden hair. Alek felt an irrational urge to swipe them aside and lift Eliot's chin. But he didn't. Touching another person in a public place was not something he often did. Heck, he didn't even hold hands with submissives on the streets. Not that he often went out with them anywhere but to clubs catering to the BDSM crowd.

  Baz drove Alek's car to the vacant space at the back and gestured Alek to join him. Once at his side, Alek waited for Baz's initial impression.

  And Baz didn't disappoint. "Your gas gremlin's a bit on the noisy side. That normal?"

  Alek shook his head. "No. We were at driving at Ward Circle when the commotion started. Plus, the car started to stall, jerking forward every couple of seconds." He leaned in to whisper in confidence, "We're investigating cases just like this, with gas gremlins acting up. This is the first time it's happened to us, though. But keep this on the down low, okay?"

  Baz gave him a quizzical look, a frown on his forehead. Then he shrugged. "If you say so." He popped open the hood and leaned in. "The oil hellion making noise too? The electronics okay or are there problems with the voltaic devils as well? What are they saying, good buddy?"

  "Huh?" Eliot asked, appearing perplexed.

  Alek froze. He'd forgotten Baz knew that particular detail about him that Eliot didn't. "I couldn't hear the oil hellion's mewls over the clamor of the gas gremlin. The hissing of the voltaic devil is so similar to heat freaks, though, and they're both so hushed. Couldn't make anything out."

  Baz gave him a weird look. Then he glanced at Eliot and his brow cleared. He nodded and offered, "I'll take a look at them beasts then, shall I?"

  Alek felt like having a heart attack. This was not about his abhorrence to relationships. This secret ran way deeper than that. And Eliot remained clueless. Alek knew it was only a matter of time before Eliot learned the truth about him. That would make or break them, both as colleagues and as partners.

  Baz moved gracefully as he detached the wires, unscrewed the pipes, and unplugged the hoses of the engine block, attached hooks and chains to it, and then used a winch to raise the thing out of the car into plain view. Alek watched carefully but he saw nothing amiss.

  "You didn't get one of them new see-through oil and gas tanks?" Baz noted as he studied the well-maintained engine.

 
Alek snorted. "You overhaul my car. If I had, you'd know about it 'cause you'd have done it."

  Baz gave a deep-belly laugh. "True, true." Then he unscrewed the plastic top of the oil fill port, yellow with a picture of an oil can on it.

  Alek kept the car clean and had it serviced a couple of times a year. Still, he wasn't overly familiar with the engine block. He knew where the mythkin resided inside the car but that was due to his job, not simple curiosity.

  "So far so good, eh?" Baz murmured, peering into the reservoir first with one eye, then the other. "You've not added more oil since the last checkup?" When Alek shook his head, Baz nodded and returned to his work. He checked the oil level with the metal dipstick. "Your oil hellion seems to be working okay. No need for refills."

  "I didn't hear anything from the creature," Alek commented, shrugging.

  Baz blew out a breath right at the oil fill port. Alek frowned, bewildered. He felt Eliot at his side and wondered if his companion was as intrigued as him.

  When Baz pulled back, slow and sure, a creature emerged from the oil tank. Eliot gasped, so Alek figured the guy had never seen an oil hellion in the flesh before. Alek had, but from behind glass, not up close like this.

  The black, slick monster sat on the oil tank. It was wet with oil, drenched in it, oozing pitch-black slime. It sat in place like a frog, legs bent and outstretched—only it had an extra pair of limbs, thin and long and flexible. Its head was perfectly round and had two rows of short bone spikes on top of it, like horns. Under each one was an eye, like charcoal-colored balls; Alek counted fourteen altogether. Then several pairs sunk into the sludge and only one pair of eyes remained. Its long tail wagged about, occasionally hitting the tank and creating a deep boom—as the tail had a large bone club at the end. Then the oil hellion smiled so wide the expression nearly split its face. And inside were rows of teeth like awls.

  Alek shuddered. Seeing an oil hellion was never a pleasant experience. Their countenance held scary associations for humans. He was reminded of Jack Skellington, only obsidian-hued and with many more eyes.