Promethean Page 8

  “Understood. I’ll stay in.” That was safer. For Mitchel. The purpose of hiding from attack wasn’t about keeping him safe, he had to imagine.

  When the bullets flew, he was, more or less, going to be fine. It was the others that needed to be watched out for and coddled. Mitchel was soft and easily damaged. So were Mary and Brenner. Agent Sanchez seemed to be in that same mold, but they’d never actually stopped to talk about that. He could have been something other than strictly human. Nothing had ever come up that way, which might mean several different things. For now the man was clearly trying to be seen as human, or was one. That was good enough for Liam, now that he’d thought about it.

  He knew that Agent Sanchez, indeed all of the agents, were most likely regular people. It wouldn’t do to presume anything at the moment, as both common sense and other people had pointed out to him, several times in the last day.

  Mitchel got ready for bed, making a point of coming back in to check and make certain Liam was really going to be all right. According to the clock on the wall, a digital thing that had nice green numbers on it, Mitch managed to get into his room by nine in the morning. It wasn’t until slightly after noon that a knock came at the front door, after a familiar sounding car pulled in. An SUV, which was bright yellow.

  That was easily seen by simply looking out the front window. A tired Tiffany climbing out, walking openly to the house. Which, if she were honestly trying not to be tracked, just in case anyone cared to follow her, was a poor plan.

  Liam opened the locked door for her, carefully, making certain not to use too much force, lest that bend the inner workings of the small metal latch. By accident he’d done that at Brenner’s once, which had meant her buying a new lock and handle, with him having to do the work of replacing it. Not that it had been a punishment. Just a thing he’d never done before. It had been interesting to him because of that.

  Instead of calling out, Liam waited, hiding behind the door, at least half way. Just because Brenner was being open about her arrival, that didn't mean he needed to be as lazy. Even if he had been when he’d shown up with Mitchel, earlier. Smiling, he held the door for her as she ambled in, closing it behind her rapidly enough that the door made a soft bang. It probably wouldn’t be enough to wake the sleeping man, though Tiffany winced anyway.

  “Easy there. Is everything going all right here?” She sounded sleepy enough that Liam decided not to bother her with his thoughts on hiding from the world.

  “It is, thank you. I think you get the guest room? I’ve just been researching and watching the deep web boards. Mitchel posted a report for everyone. There are interesting replies already.”

  Not a lot of them. What was fascinating to him was how different the various groups handled different aspects of the same situation.

  He explained that, speaking softly.

  “The elves are wondering if this is an attack on everyone. To them it’s obvious that using Narran’s name was a threat of sorts. That everyone will be made public if we do not capitulate to future demands. The Digger web-site is cautioning their people to hide already. The werewolves are plotting to kill the police that attacked me, or at least aiding me in hiding their bodies, even though it was pointed out that only Simpson was acting on his own, the others being influenced by me when they jumped in. I don’t think they’re accepting that it isn’t their responsibility, regardless.”

  He tried shrugging, since it looked relaxed, even if he wasn’t honestly feeling that way. The attack hadn’t left him injured and he wasn’t in pain from it. That didn't mean he loved being beaten or shot. The whole thing had him on edge, if in a subdued fashion.

  Brenner simply moved to the small sofa which was to the side of the front door, and plopped down as if she couldn’t hold herself upright any longer. It had been a long day for her, as far as lack of rest or sleep had gone. Over a full day, already.

  “I’m not certain I don’t agree with them. We… Kind of have to just eat this one. Simpson is going to be up on charges, since you weren’t wrong there. He wasn’t being driven to attack you and you were clearly not doing anything wrong. He apparently tried to press charges against you for slapping him in the helmet when you moved away from his initial rush. It’s a bit of a problem, since you can’t be arrested by the local police, even if this is fully in their jurisdiction. I managed to get the Chief here to shut that down. I told him that you’re Kim’s new sweetie and her ex was flying off the handle, attacking without warning in a high stress situation. Also that you’re working for the FBI as well, making this an in house matter. Not that…” She grinned then, and yawned slowly. There was a falseness to the expression. Making it a thing that she clearly didn’t mean in any real sense of the word. Then, even Liam was able to understand that she was most likely desperately sad and angry at the moment.

  He didn’t feel it for himself. Really, he felt close to nothing, even after everything that had happened in the last day. That didn't mean he couldn’t understand that others who were closer to the situation, whose friends had died, would have more impact from it.

  “On top of that… I sort of mentioned that you’d already waved off the idea of pressing charges of your own, after being shot like that, even if it was obviously illegal. Not that the courts would really see it that way. Civilians don’t win in court against the cops, even when the police are the ones in the wrong. This way there’s no need to have a major black mark on the two officers’ files, however. These particular ones are apparently not evil, most days. One of them was honestly part of hassling Oaks though, which is something to keep in mind. It could mean there’s a pattern there.”

  Her hair was messy at the moment. Her natural curl combining with hours of doing nothing but swiping at it, pulling it from the hair ring that she wore to keep it in a ponytail. The red strands flew in several different directions and parts of it were clearly matted with old sweat and possibly other damp things that Liam just didn’t understand on a personal level.

  Under that her naturally pale skin was even lighter than it normally was. Her freckles seemed brighter, or at least stood out more, based on that. So did the greenish circles under her green eyes. That added up to make her seem almost ready to fall down, even if she wasn’t that unsteady on her feet at the moment.

  Liam took a slow breath, then looked at her steadily for a while. Attempting to give her some of his power, if only in spirit. Acting strong, so that it would affect her and give her extra power. Not that doing such things was truly inside of his ability. Not that he knew of, anyway.

  “I can let being shot go. I don’t think that Simpson is going to allow me to escape him, however. He’s threatend or tried to kill me each time we’ve met. Even when he shouldn’t have been driven to it by my nature, being too far away in the truck. This is something else. Others have mentioned that he and several of his men seem to be simply bigoted. That’s different than being afraid or just wrong, isn’t it? Even if he felt those things today, all on his own, he should have worked himself up to attacking me, not just done it instantly.” The soft words didn’t hiss out. There was no feeling of anger in them either, since Liam wasn’t bothering with that kind of thing. It was tempting, but also futile at the moment.

  Brenner, his exhausted human friend, nodded.

  “Granted. I don’t know what his malfunction is, really. Day to day the field agents don’t exactly hang with the special team. They’re headquartered about three hours from here. That was on purpose, so that the people we deal with won’t be faced with guns and armor every time they come in to report a minor problem to us. Not that it happens most days. It’s too hard for most of them to trust us. The authorities. Some just can’t stand humans or think that we’re always going to try and come for them.”

  She yawned again, being tired enough to miss the irony, or at least truth, in what she was saying.

  Liam didn't pester her with the idea. A lot of the people on the deep web-sites had mentioned something similar however, a
lready. That they were, all too often, mistreated by the humans, who always seemed to side with the wrong doers. Tiffany, who was supposed to be on his side, he thought, was clearly protecting the police more than she was seeking justice or aid for him. It was a thing that he’d noticed her doing before. Even when her people were clearly wrong, instead of trying to fix things, she always tried to make it okay for the government agents and police first thing.

  Even when that meant doing the wrong thing for other humans that weren’t part of that group. Worse, she didn't seem to understand that she was both doing that and that it was almost always wrong when it happened.

  Then, Liam thought he understood big parts of that, having gotten to watch her for two months on a very regular basis. Tiffany Brenner wasn’t there to help the other communities as much as control them. Her job wasn’t about ensuring that they were treated correctly or well, even. No, she was tasked with making certain they didn't get too out of hand. That, no matter what else happened, the other peoples of the world were kept in a tidy box, which she and her people held the key to.

  It was hard to think about, even if true. Liam could see that it had been happening the whole time he’d known her at least. Which allowed him to see, in part, what she was about to do.

  She faked a smile again, her eyes dark.

  “Right now, we can’t really do anything about this. Simpson is protected, being a federal agent. The law won’t really do anything to help you against him or the police, so you have to kind of eat this.” She looked away then, as if trying not to bring up the obvious factors.

  Things that Liam understood would, or at least could, make a very large difference.

  His words were expressionless, when they came out.

  “Except that I have many other options. I could simply leave, to protect myself. Also, Simpson cannot kill me. Not using anything close to normal means. I can do that to him, however, if I choose. That isn’t my plan or the best option, unless he can’t control himself. Since there is no other way being presented, he should be told that, if he attacks me, or anyone else in my presence, again, that I will be forced to take final measures against him. That isn’t what I want. My desire is that he corrects his behavior. Since you and your government are backing him in his attacks and will refuse logical correction for him, then there are limited options left.” Leaving of course, was probably the better option, since dead people couldn’t correct their behavior.

  After all, the FBI special office had already lost a lot of their people that day. If Liam ended the life of Rich Simpson, even if he felt he had cause, then they’d probably try to fight against him. To punish him for daring to protect himself from an intractable threat.

  Instead of blowing up at him or even saying he was wrong, Tiffany simply sighed.

  “That isn’t the way we do things, Liam. Simpson is being… A pain in the ass. It could just be that he doesn’t like you, and things got out of hand. Murder isn’t the way to fix your problems though. As for leaving… You’re a bit young for life on the road, don’t you think?”

  He nodded, not knowing the real answer at all. Then, he’d suggested that he leave, not that he go and live in the bushes along a roadway. There were, he had to figure, other ways to keep himself housed and fed. His skills were limited that way so far. Still, he could learn almost anything and didn’t need to sleep or rest like a human did. Even basic tasks wouldn’t bore him, as far as he could tell, no matter how repetitive.

  Unlike how a regular person would deal with the same things.

  “You have told me, many times that I look too old for anyone to believe that about. It should hold me in good stead that way, don’t you think? Besides, you can’t really do anything about it, if I choose to walk away. I cannot be easily held and will not be harmed by what you can do. I am here because I’m trusting in your system. That seems to be failing in certain ways. Given that, why should I bother with it at all?” His voice, as always, was very calm sounding. It wasn’t inside what he could do, to make himself seem upset or out of control.

  Brenner didn’t go for her side arm or anything, either, just rolling her eyes, instead.

  “Sure. You could walk. Or kill Simpson and probably the rest of his crew, if you want to do that. We can’t stop you. Which means that people will have to go for the others in your life that you might not want dead, instead. Leslie, for instance? Me. Mitch… Maybe even Clarissa, since you stood up for her publicly once. Anyone that you’ve been around who can die is a potential hostage to your good behavior, Liam. I didn’t want to bring that up with you, but I guess we have no choice, now. You either toe the line, or people die. I guess you need to ask yourself if those other people matter to you or not.”

  She shrugged and left the room. Liam didn't bother calling out for her to stop.

  It was, now that the words had been spoken, what had clearly always been the plan. Even removing his mother from him, had been part of that. A threat which he’d missed, being too naïve and youthful at the time it had happened. Now, suddenly, he understood why things had gone the way they had. If he was with Mary, it was possible that he could protect her.

  The only issue with that idea was that he’d studied the laws of the humans for weeks now. Months. He knew, for instance that his mother was no longer in any real legal danger. They could illegally murder her, but they had no right to hold her on anything. She’d stayed at home, waiting for him to be released back into her custody. A thing that wasn’t going to be happening, it seemed.

  A bit sadly, he nodded. Liam was going to have to do something different, given that. The first thing he needed was information though. Brenner had given him hints as to what would be needed. A way to provide for himself, as well as to get out from under the thumb of the human government. That would take information. Things that weren’t likely going to be simply handed over to him online. Not on the regular web. To that end, without hesitating or even waiting for Agent Brenner to fall asleep in the guest room, he started to research.

  First by getting online, then, later, by doing something he hadn’t in several days. Reaching out to Oaks. His father.

  Chapter six

  It had been early afternoon when Agent Brenner had gone to sleep, giving Liam several hours to make plans, without interruption. It was harder than it seemed like it should be, not because of his isolation or the difficulties of connecting with people. No, the issue he was having was a mental one. He had, until that day, been thinking that Brenner and her friends, some of them, were different than the bad men. Than Simpson and those he had with him, who had introduced themselves with an explosion and screams about how they would fucking kill him, if he moved.

  Even then, the threat had really been to Mary. His mother. Using her as a hostage against his using any initiative or simply suggesting that he, Liam Frankenstein, a living joke, be treated politely and with the same courtesy that they would have enjoyed.

  Now, given the new information that the admittedly tired Brenner had shared with him, Liam thought he finally understood a lot more about his world. The humans around him were making the wrong choices, out of fear. Due to that feeling, they were going, eventually to push him into responding, in ways that would almost certainly cause him to take physical actions they couldn’t effectively beat. He also understood, thanks to his previous studies that there might well be ways for them to destroy him. As long as they didn't mind using massive weapons of mass destruction against his type of person.

  Nuclear devices would, he had to think, be enough to rip him apart. The radiation wouldn’t do anything to him, however. He was nearly certain on that point, at least. His cells didn’t divide the same way, which was part of why he was immune, totally, to cancer. Mary had mentioned that to him, in his first weeks of being alive. At the time he hadn’t really understood what she was getting at. Now he did. Oddly, it was his training in medicine, if self-led, that had allowed him that kind of insight.

  His body was essentially immortal. Made of
one piece of material, instead of having various organs and differentiated tissues. Even things like his eyes, nose and having hands and feet were part of how he’d been arranged in the first place. If you cut off his arm, it would appear to have bone in the center, but that wasn’t true. It was just a lighter colored version of the same flesh that created all of him. He looked right, but wasn’t like most beings at all.

  He looked nearly right, that was.

  Liam couldn’t get cancer though, meaning that things like radiation weren’t effective against him. He couldn’t reproduce, unless the method that Mary and Oaks had used was going to count that way. Meaning no damage done to him would impact his children or anything like that.

  So, if the initial blast of a mega weapon didn’t destroy most of his bodily material, Liam, unlike almost any animal on the planet, could simply walk away from it. Yes, it would take time to heal, but he would.

  Plus, he was nearly certain that the FBI didn’t have nuclear weapons in their arsenal. They’d be pressed to have regular bombs, which wouldn’t be enough to do more than hurt him, if they were deployed. Even very large guns, the kinds that tanks and ships used, wouldn’t remove him from the playing field forever.

  So, instead of doing the sane thing and turning him into a friend, trusting in his good will, they’d decided to hedge their bets, taking de facto hostages. At least Brenner had mentioned that. It was, he had to figure, possible that plan was hers alone. He could see that it might not even be her real strategy at all. She was close to exhausted at the moment and had lost coworkers. Friends. She might well have just been talking, trying to control him using words, instead of just patting him on the head and letting him know that Simpson would be controlled somehow.