Doctor Frankenstein Read online

Page 15


  It wasn’t much. Mainly making a list of tools for working on cars. That and looking up how to do it, memorizing the information that would work for his van, in particular. That meant finding the manual for it, then an online auto repair course.

  No one came in that night. There were no calls, either. Liam moved around, working and going over what he needed to learn. Only to find that he was starting to feel something he rarely had before in his entire life. Boredom. Also, a little useless. A big part of him wanted to do something useful, even if the managing of the war wasn’t really his job. How they were acting was his plan, certainly. His idea. That didn’t give him any say in who did what, outside of his suggestions.

  He wasn’t in the FBI nor was he important in the larger community. Not in a political fashion. Medically he was involved at least. That was a new thing though and he couldn’t expect it to influence many people into thinking he was worth listening to in other areas of life. Even knowing all of that it was annoying to think about. A thing he had to think was perfectly normal. Anyone in his place might well feel similarly to himself.

  It wasn’t the kind of thing that he’d looked up many times before, but when he checked that online, he was led to several forums where people hinted at that kind of feeling, at least. To them it seemed stronger though. More painful and not as easily set aside.

  Liam understood why that was, of course. He could feel fear and anger, after a fashion. It wasn’t the same thing that humans felt though, since his body wasn’t pumping hormones and chemicals into his system when it happened. Fear was more like worry to him. A mental thing that made him wary, instead of panicked and ready to fight.

  Anger was a decision. One that could be irrational, naturally. He wasn’t a machine, after all. Even if it was clear to him that his intelligence was probably similar to what an artificial intelligence system would be. Some of them. All prometheans were different, often acting out when young, if not raised properly. They were also very bright. On a level that wasn’t like human beings at all.

  An A.I. would be similar to that. Lacking emotions, except for those that they purposefully built as responses over time. The world would shape them, as it did all living and intelligent things. It made sense, given that, to make certain that the world they were born into would be nurturing, instead of angry or hateful toward them.

  Oaks was one of the first, and his welcome into the world had caused him to distrust humanity even centuries later. Liam saw things differently, because his world had been very different. He’d always lived in a house, with people who, even if they didn’t love him innately, had been kind and good toward him. Warren Oaks had been screamed at the moment he opened his eyes. Then driven, violently, from the lab where he was born.

  Driven off into the woods, alone, to learn from the world in a very different fashion. A harsher, more brutal way of being that had taken a long time for the man to work out. Even now, long after the time of his creation, Oaks was struggling to treat people as if they might be good. He managed it, after a fashion. It wasn’t easy or reflexive for him. The issue was that it should have been. A force, a mind, like that of Warren Oaks should have been nurtured by the world. His father should have made certain he had a good place to live and an education, even if he was afraid of what he’d created.

  Liam could see how it would be the same for A.I. in the future. A lot of people online were afraid of them, even if none existed openly, and that sort of being hadn’t harmed anyone at all, that he could tell. The fear of the other was there anyway. With people claiming that such machine intelligences had to be demons or monsters. Even before they were born.

  They were going to need people to be there for them. Good parents that would give them a chance to grow, teaching them how to be good people, even if they were different. Hate would make them bad. Love or at least respect, would go a long way toward creating a being that could make all of reality much better, simply by being.

  Naturally, he also knew that could be himself drawing a parallel that wouldn’t come into being. He did think of himself as smart though, and different enough that one way to describe him could honestly be alien. Even if he was from Earth. No more than a seven hour drive away, in fact. That meant he felt a certain kinship to those future beings that would, one day, walk with him in the sun.

  Oddly enough, thinking that got him to get his drawing pad out, to practice that skill. He was getting better, but still lacked the ability to mimic photographs. If he was going to be fair about it, there were a lot of human artists that were better than he was. What he did tended to seem exacting and was good in a way, but he lacked fluidity and a sense that he was putting something of himself in the work. That was harder than getting shading and line placement right.

  So he smiled and focused on that for a while.

  He worked on faces, doing one for everyone he knew. Mary, Oaks, Brenner and Sanchez. He even did one of Kim Simpson, though he wasn’t certain he should. He was on Clarissa and her parents, the girl in front in the picture, when Tiffany finally came in, nearly a day and a half after she’d left. She glanced tiredly at what was on the paper and nodded.

  “Nice. Great work, actually. Sorry I was out so long. Um…” She stopped and rubbed her face, then shook her head. “There’s news on the Kim front. She, uh, killed herself in her cell. Shot, in the back of the head, not that the press will talk about that. There are only so many people that could pull that off. Even most of the guards would be hard pressed to make it happen. No one will talk and there’s no video at all. For the whole jail complex she was being held in. The other people there didn’t hear anything, either. That… These aren’t killers and people doing hard time that will lie so they don’t make waves. Not most of them. We’re talking people being held on parking tickets and stuff. I guess it will make the people calling for her death happy enough, so at least there’s that.”

  Liam nodded up at her. Then he stood and gave her a hug. She did it back, harder than normal. When it was released, she sighed.

  “Someone is tying up loose ends. Probably from the State Department. That… I get it, but they normally aren’t involved in things like this. It’s as close to a true bureaucracy as we have in the government. I don’t know how this will affect the rest of the plan. Do you have any ideas that way?” For some reason she seemed wary about asking him that.

  He simply focused on the event, closed his eyes and after a minute, added the new data to the predictive path. After a minute he saw the whole event, parts of it anyway, laid out in front of him. It was decently clear and intense, without being realistic at all. It told him enough, at least. Nothing about what would be happening with the vampires yet, even if they were part of the vision he was having.

  Opening his eyes, which he didn't need to do, except for Brenner’s comfort, he tilted his head.

  “It really won’t. I can’t get anything on fighting with the vampires or an attack, but the ending of the whole thing towards others will come anyway. I’m not getting this as being important to that at all.” Whatever that meant.

  Possibly nothing, of course. He could only map things out if he had enough data. That he was lacking that was the most obvious answer as to why he was failing in a single area.

  Waving, Tiffany yawned and covered her mouth.

  “Gah. Anyway, everyone is feeling pretty raw at work right now. That one of our own did this… Well, it was bad when it was just the SAU. They work with us and are on the same team, but they aren’t in the office every day. None of them are family. Not really. Kim was one of us in a way that’s hard to take. I still can’t believe it. Even after hearing her say the words. She had Ridley killed. For being a good person. That… It’s hard to let go of.”

  Processing before speaking, Liam nodded at her, then hugged her again, which seemed to be close to the correct response. She didn’t need him to tell her how to feel or that she was correct in her feelings, either.

  Early in his life, he’d made mistakes lik
e that. Trying to explain things when the person he was talking to already knew the answers. The idea of making conversation or even simply sharing that way was a thing that he’d only gotten a few months before. A thing that many humans, who had been around for a very long time compared to him didn’t seem to understand. Especially the men. They tried to fix situations, which was fine if that kind of thing would work at all.

  There was no good way to bring Kim Simpson back to life, however. Not if she’d been shot in the head as it sounded like was the case. Her brain was where her personality lived, which meant that once that happened, a significant destruction of the cranium, the being inside was simply gone. It was a thing he didn't have to worry about, personally.

  Also, even if he could bring her back, it didn’t sound like it would be the best of plans. She’d been trying to start a war, or at least helping people that were. If she’d still been alive Liam would have worked to keep her that way. Being gone though… No. The world would simply have to do without her.

  Finally, he took a deep breath and let about half of it out.

  “Is there anything I can do?” It wouldn’t mean much, but he was still feeling slightly bored, even with having taken time to focus on drawing. It was fading, talking to Brenner, but hadn’t gone all the way away yet.

  She shook her head though.

  “Not really. She was probably going to die for what she did eventually. It’s important for us to follow the law as well as we can. That doesn’t mean it’s our fault when others do things like this. Having her turn herself in wasn’t the wrong thing to do. The murder was.” She stopped then, brushing a single red curl out of her eyes. The rest of her hair was pulled back, leaving only one lopsided place that had gotten out of its shackles.

  Before he could address the idea of murder being right or wrong, in an academic or universal sense, she went on.

  “So, what’s new in your world? Drawing, you don’t really do a lot of that, or haven’t been. Did any patients come by? We’ve been letting people know that your services are available. Mitchel especially.”

  He nodded.

  “Six people, during the day, yesterday now. Nothing so far today, but things run hot and cold as far as that goes. The truth is, that I’m sort of out of things to do for the time being. I’ve learned enough Chemistry for now and have a good grasp on the academic portion of auto-repair. I need to get some tools for that, so I can make some changes to the van. Thank you again for that. It’s very nice. I’ll probably be taking a trip in it soon.” He hadn’t driven it yet, not having anyplace to go. The bow had been taken off of it however.

  “It’s insured and licensed, so you won’t have to worry over that. In your name, in case you get pulled over. Hmm. I need to get to bed soon or I’d stay and talk. You should do something. Go and visit someone or go see a movie. Something just for fun.”

  That got him to blink.

  “Where would I go to see a movie? Don’t they just play in the living room or on the computer?” He turned to wave at examples of what he meant.

  There was a smile then.

  “Nope. Movie theaters. You should look that up and then go and see some examples of them. If you want, I mean. It’s only an idea. I’d say you should take a date, except that you’re still a little young for that kind of thing. I pinned Oaks down on that the other day. He figures that you’ll be interested in that kind of thing between seven and ten years old. To start with. Then it will run hot and cold, depending on who you meet. It’s weird, but I guess you could still go to a show with someone.”

  Not knowing what he was supposed to say on the topic, he nodded. It might be good to have another person with him, if he were going out into the general public. Someone who was able to protect themselves, so that if an attack came, they wouldn’t be harmed too much.

  “I’ll think about that. After I look up what it is. Goodnight.” It wasn’t night time any longer, a new day having come around again.

  Instead of leaving, the woman pulled her hand bag around and got her billfold out. After a moment of digging, she presented her cash card.

  “Use this. To get the tools you want? We should have things like that for the house. All I have is a broken hammer and a tiny screwdriver set for eye glasses. Before you ask, no, I don’t know where they came from.” The words were spoken with humor, if the tired and dry sort.

  Liam didn’t smile, but ducked his head to show that he understood what she was talking about. Just enough to make it clear to her that he was engaged with the conversation.

  “I’ll see to that. Should I order them online?”

  She shrugged.

  “Go to the store? I know that people come at you from time to time, but it’s early enough in the day you shouldn’t run into too many people at Home Depot. It’s not healthy to live inside all the time. At the very least you should go and sit in the yard or something. Get some fresh air and stretch the legs.”

  “Okay. I’ll do that. Are you trying to get me out of the house? I mean for a reason?”

  That got her to role her eyes at him. Cutely, even if it didn’t make sense at first.

  “Duh. I have someone coming over in about an hour. Not that I won’t fall asleep on them. So get out of here kid, you’re cramping my style. Be gone for… At least four hours.”

  He nodded and didn't comment on the fact that she had a lot of friends that would come over. Not normally in the morning, though that had happened before in the last six months. It wasn’t legally part of her job, but it was something she had to do in order to make the needed contacts for her people. A lot of the different groups only accepted humans as sexual objects, after all. That or food, but given that last one wasn’t survivable, it made sense that his friend wasn’t planning on doing that kind of thing any time soon.

  Taking the hint, Liam got up, then went to his room, to change his shirt. The one he had on wasn’t dirty or anything, but it wasn’t very nice either. Then, heading out, armed with a vague sense of where he needed to go in town, he climbed into his new van and discovered something interesting. Driving a new car, one he wasn’t used to, while not difficult, was still very different. The controls were in new places and had to be learned before he could get out of the driveway.

  Once he had that down he carefully moved into the street. No one else was there, unless they were hidden in the woods, so he drove toward the town, off to the left. The handling of the vehicle was good though, once he started to get used to it. The tank was full of fuel, and the dash had indicator lights for almost everything he could think of. It even told him the outside and inside temperature. Both were the same at the moment, being a toasty fifty-four degrees Fahrenheit.

  Even knowing that most people wouldn’t agree with him, he really did feel fine at that temperature. More to the point, it was nearly perfect for him, or would be, if it could get about ten degrees cooler. He could take greater heat if he had to, but the temperature that day really was just about pleasant.

  That was what he was thinking about when he got into the town, which looked normal to him. People were out and about, doing their jobs or going to them, given the time of day. The Home Depot had a clean orange sign that was easy to see and wasn’t that empty, regardless of what Brenner had suggested. Still, he managed to get into and out of the store with the needed tools and equipment, using a self-checkout, so no one asked why his name was Tiffany.

  The whole trip took an hour, which wasn’t enough time. Not even close. Instead of bothering Mitchel, since the man tended to sleep late in the morning, he headed over to Oaks’ house. That might not work either, but it was at least a destination to travel toward, so he did it, feeling a little aimless at the moment.

  When he got there the gate opened automatically. He didn't even have to push a button or ask for it to move aside. It also closed behind him, as he pulled in and stopped, not driving toward the house. That was mainly due to the men and women fighting there, hitting each other and slamming them into the groun
d. Hard enough that it made deep booming sounds where they hit on the driveway or grass.

  There were four people doing that, with Martha and Opal standing off to the side, watching the goings on rather blandly. Liam walked up to them, slowly. He smiled, but kept his attention toward the people who were battling away. At first, he assumed it was a particularly vigorous practice session. At least until he heard the curse words being screamed.

  Interestingly enough the being doing that was nearly as large as Oaks, being about seven feet tall and broader across. He was a deep tan color and dressed in rags, instead of the nicer things everyone else was wearing. He wasn’t just calling Oaks a bastard, Lissette at least was scratching back at him. Vincent was, it seemed on the new man’s side, as they faced off with Warren, who was punching and wrestling aggressively. He moved well, but lost his balance and lurched around more than Vincent did.

  The other two were more like Oaks on that score. They clearly hit with incredible power, but their movement, while smooth and fluid, often ended in stumbling as they lost their balance and caught themselves to prevent falling down. On occasion, they didn’t make it.

  Moving next to the calmer two, he nodded.

  “Good morning. It seems that I’ve come at a poor time. I can’t really tell, are they exercising or did they just forget that our kind is really hard to kill? What they’re doing really won’t do much.” It could hurt, he supposed, for a while. A few seconds after the blow came. Even if the other person were damaged, they wouldn’t suffer for long from the pain of it. Healing took longer, but would happen in decently short order.

  Opal smiled at him, his big eyes and round head making him seem happy and pleasant.

  Martha, seeming bland, was the one to speak.

  “It’s an old issue. Nicolas is… Your brother. More than any of the rest of us are. I understand that you were made by the same human? Mary Frankenstein, wasn’t it? That… I understand the joke, but it’s a bit on the nose. At any rate, he and Warren do not tend to get along. Lissette isn’t a fan either, it seems. Something about a rape? I can’t say I know the whole story. It wasn’t the rape of her, of course. That would be nearly impossible to do to any of us. Even for one of our own kind. I think that the goal is to drive him away. I’m staying out of it, since my personal interactions with Nicolas have been fine. He’s a bit coarse. Only ten or eleven now?” There was a look at Opal, who nodded.

 

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