by P. S. Power
That didn't seem right, of course. Most of the time people didn’t attack what they feared, they ran from it or avoided it. Even if he hated Liam, there had to be a better time to attack him. Better tactics for that as well.
Which, after a moment, left him feeling baffled. It was clear that going after him was perfectly useless. The worst that would happen if Liam was attacked was that he might fight back or run away. He couldn’t be taken in by the police, after all. They didn't have the ability to do that to him, unless he chose to go along with them.
All of that was data that Simpson had, though. Even at the first meeting there had been talk of that. How everyone had gotten information on him, before going in. How they knew that he functionally couldn’t be killed and that even things like handcuffs might not hold him. As it turned out he was strong enough that the things were a bit like thin tinfoil strips to him. If that.
Which Simpson had been told all about.
Meaning that the man knew that flying at Liam, trying to tackle and hit him wouldn’t work at all. Given that, if he were going to be foolish about things, the man should have tried shooting him. Which also wouldn’t have worked.
Smiling as he thought, he regarded Brenner as if they might still be friends. As if he didn’t recall the threats she’d hinted at.
“I’ll make certain no one has an issue that way. At least I’ll ask them not to. I don’t know if that will work.” He was whispering, so she moved in a bit and did it back.
“Great. For my part I’ll get with Simpson and see if he might not mind pulling his head from his ass. That probably won’t work. On the good side, even if he keeps being a tool, he can’t really do much to you. I know, being shot and beaten isn’t fun, even for you. Still, the end results just don’t mean as much for someone that can’t be killed, right? Besides, he didn’t really beat you as much as flailed in your direction as you handled him like he was a little kid throwing a fit. You did well enough that no one seeing it will think you’re a wimp or anything. Really, from what people were saying at work, they were kind of impressed. You handled yourself well.”
There was, he assumed, a real point there. Then, he wasn’t worried that the man going off the rails would hurt him. Even if there was pain, Liam would be able to weather it and it would, after a short while, fade. No, his concern was that those around him would be targeted, in an attempt to control him.
A thing that not going along with the FBI agent in front of him could trigger into action. So, for the second time in two days, Liam did something he ordinarily didn’t. He lied.
“I’m sure that it will be smoothed out when you talk to him. It was probably just the stress of the day.” A thing that it really might have been, Liam knew. He was even willing to cut the man slack, if that turned out to be the case.
Not that he was going to be stupid about it. After all, even if the man hadn’t been trying to kill Liam when he attacked, he’d done it. Leaping out of the van and right into a fight, which had caused him and part of his team to leave the area instantly. Given the tensions of the day, that was surprising and more than a bit suspicious. Along with two of the police officers that had been taken away with them.
Men who, as far as he’d been able to see, had been anxious about him before that moment, without pushing into insane levels of violence toward him due to his innate nature.
A thing that, Liam decided, he was going to have to be concerned about.
Chapter seven
Liam knew that he was young. True, it was in a very odd way, that due to his ability to read, speak and think many tens or hundreds of times faster than most warped him in a specific fashion. He’d only been alive for seven months and a bit, of course.
In that time he’d studied and lived more than most people, the human ones, could have managed before being in their early twenties. That didn’t mean he knew everything or could pretend to. There were areas in which he was simply clueless, for instance.
In matters of love or sex, for instance.
Liam didn't feel a need for either of those things for himself, as far as he could tell. He liked other people, but nothing inside of him suggested that kissing, hugging or rubbing himself all over them was ever going to interest him. Due to a lack of time he’d never been approached for that purpose openly, either. No women, or men, had come to him to explain their feelings toward him in that way. A few had hinted at adult things, but accepted his gentle reminders of him being too young as good enough to not participate in such things.
Still, he had to feel that standing under a bridge, near a small stream, waiting for a man that had claimed to be a troll at one point might just be a little odd. The kind of thing that an adult would know better than to do, if they were older and more normal than he was.
Liam got there first, or at least he was standing in the space alone, in the shade under the concrete footbridge above him. There was a scent of urine and old alcohol in the place, with bottles that claimed to have once held wine and beer strewn all over the place. Several of them had been broken, the glass scattered in spots. At least one of them had been smashed against the base of the structure above, spreading out in a splashing pattern that described the sound the event had made.
A bit of the glass, the smaller shards that had flown further from the wall, had been walked through, a single foot dragging part of the green sparkling material out of the way.
In the background there was the constant white noise of the stream, the water flowing over the rocks gently. Babbling, as he’d heard it described. More correctly, he’d read about it. Reading was faster than watching video or listening for him, once he had the basic concepts down. It was helpful to see and hear things at first though. For instance, he’d never been that close to running water before.
It sparkled and shifted in a way that Liam hadn’t truly understood it could, before that point. There were clouds in the sky, though no rain fell that day. Not yet. In the background he heard birds chirping. They were different than the ones he was used to, that lived and visited the woods near Brenner’s house. Without counting he heard five distinct voices that way. At irregular intervals there was a strange chirping that he highly suspected was a hidden squirrel. The branches, small ones, moved slightly as he watched in that direction.
Taking in the world, absorbing it from all directions. Soaking it in and learning, constantly. Everything was both new and fascinating as well as slightly familiar. There were ants and other insects that moved and crawled, taking advantage of the ease of living by the water. Flies collected in places, along with small things that were probably mosquitoes. They didn’t try to bite him, so he left them alone.
That was what he was thinking about when a large shifting of air came from behind him. Turning, he saw Oaks step out from behind a tree, nearly fifty feet away. The man, or creature, depending on who you asked, was still dark of skin, his face sharp and strange like always. The cheekbones had been made too prominent, the chin too jutting. When he moved, the eight feet and nearly four hundred pounds of him, if not much more, flowed gently. Quickly and quietly across the world in a way that Liam himself hadn’t mastered at all. There was no sound of his approach, outside of a shifting of the world. The air itself being forced to bend and press away from the huge volume of mass represented.
Raising a hand, Liam waved, allowing himself to smile, since that was what polite people did. Plus, he didn't particularly fear Oaks. The man had never done anything to him, except act as if he had a right to know what was going on in his child’s life. A thing that, while it felt odd and probably was, being unique in presentation, wasn’t a bad or evil thing.
Oaks copied the move, stopping about ten feet from him. His voice was smooth and cultured sounding now, instead of rough or stupid. That part had been an act, of course. A thing that was obvious now. This person in front of him wasn’t a being that lacked refinement at all. He’d merely pretended to do that in order to fool Brenner and her people. So that he could collect da
ta on them.
“Liam. You asked for me to meet you here. Do you need aid? I brought some money. Also, papers that will work for you, if you need to flee.” A large hand, the same size as Liam’s own, patted his right-hand side pocket.
He shook his head.
“I can’t show up with things like that, unless I’m going to run and not come back. I… Agent Brenner said something yesterday that…” He didn't know how to present the knowledge that he’d picked up. It was concerning to him, of course. Not that he lacked a good way to put it into the world, just that it was the case at all.
Oaks loomed, even as his look was only interested in what was being said. He didn’t hurry or press for speech, either. That there was a timetable that needed to be followed was, as far as Liam understood, was all self-imposed for the moment.
“Agent Brenner. The other day I was attacked by Simpson from the FBI. Richard Simpson, not the other one, Kim. Suddenly. It seems outside of the effect that I have on people. He leapt from a moving van, attempting to fight me with his hands and feet, that and a small telescoping pipe or bludgeon of some kind. I easily defended against him, but was shot by a local police officer who may have been being angered by my presence. He’d been agitated before that moment at least. Another tried to do that, missing. I wasn’t harmed, of course. Momentary pain was caused. They all fled then, almost instantly.” He looked at the giant being, who nodded once, saying he understood the basic idea. Possibly more than that. “Later, when Brenner and I were discussing how Simpson and the others weren’t to be punished for it, I mentioned that I could simply leave. That I was trusting in her system to do the right thing and it didn’t seem to be.”
There was a snort then, and a grin from the creature. It looked evil, with white teeth, too big for a human, gleaming. The feeling wasn’t harsh though, just mirthful.
“I bet that went over well. Clearly, she’s been set to watch you. To control you if she can. What was her reaction? A claim that they’d use nuclear weapons on you if you didn’t do their bidding? I’ve heard that one myself, a few times now. They can’t actually use that kind of thing unless they wish to kill more human beings than one of our people would ever bother doing. That means it’s a bluff, since it will never be worth it to them.”
Liam shook his head, doing it slowly. Part of him didn’t want to be having the discussion, since the most obvious direction for it to take was, in the end, not one he truly wanted for himself.
“No, she suggested that the people I know, Mary, the FBI agents, even Clarissa the werewolf and Mitchel Warner the elemental, might be harmed or killed to ensure my good behavior. That if I didn’t take abuse from Simpson that good people might die for it.”
A single step was taken toward him, a big hand coming out, reaching without touching. A scent, that of smoke and wood, came off of the man. It was pleasant, if not familiar. Nearly sweet.
“Ah. How do you feel about that? She…” There was a shrug then. “Honestly, she was probably just saying those things. The government won’t go to war with you, if they can help it. You cannot, acting alone, defeat millions of armed men and women. They, as individuals cannot stop you from ending their lives. There is a balance of power there, unless they wish to waste the lives of millions of their own, trying to destroy one of our kind. In short, she was threatening, but won’t do what she said. No one would. Then, it isn’t sane for a single human who arguably knows better to attack you like that, with hands and feet. Even with a club. His own fear should have prevented that… I have to assume that he doesn’t fear you, given that. Or he would have tried using something more powerful first thing. Which…”
The being stopped then, Liam rolling his eyes.
“I know. The whole thing was fake. Six of the FBI had been murdered, as you read about online. My guess is that it was actually the FBI itself, their action team, the Special Action Unit, that did it. Simpson and part of his men. That he doesn’t fear me…” Liam figured that was due to him not being all that violent. He’d killed, but only when fighting. Only once, as well.
A thing that left him feeling troubled. Not that there had been deaths, the werewolves that had died not being important to him at all. It was simply that Simpson’s actions made even less sense given what he had to know about Liam.
“I… I know that I’m not normally a big threat to anyone. The one time that I’ve been dangerous was when I had to physically fight though. Three died at my hands as I flailed around. Werewolves aren’t that much more powerful than regular people, but there were more of them and they were trained fighters. Three times stronger and faster than a human would be as well.”
Oaks, his face not moving now, dropped his chin.
“Yes. It doesn’t make a lot of sense. The man, on some level was counting on you to withhold great harm in retribution, when suddenly attacked. As one might do with an ally, instead of a person being thought of as a true threat. I’ve only spoken to him once before. He seemed… Bigoted. Upset. As you mentioned, there was a different quality to it than the effect normally shows. It was nearly forced seeming. As if he were posturing for the others around him. You spoke of police as well?”
Liam recalled what he’d been told and rubbed at his nose. The urine scent under the bridge was powerful. Not that he was perceiving it with the center of his face. Every spot on his body that encountered air was tasting it. Letting him know what was around him, constantly. It wasn’t pleasant. It also wasn’t a thing that he couldn’t put up with. The world was simply unfamiliar to him there, under the bridge, near the water. The moisture from the air was as novel and distracting to him as the scent.
He smiled then, nodding a little bit.
“One of them at least was here before. Giving you problems? I do think he was being affected by me, so hold him blameless. The one that shot me, I think, though you’d need to look at them both to see if that’s correct. It’s annoying. I can’t think that it’s good his own people won’t even scold him over it. They don’t know that he couldn’t help himself at that moment.”
There was a snort then from the giant.
“That isn’t exactly truth, Liam. Humans can and do control their emotions. Good people would not attack you with lethal force, even if angered by your presence. They do not have to lash out due to minor mental discomfort, either. It is as much of a choice as any that their kind can make. Only a very few of them can’t manage that level of control. That sort has trouble maintaining themselves and tend to end up in prison in modern times.” He looked to the side, at the bridge itself.
After a moment, he sighed.
“When I was young, in my first ten years or so, I thought that all humans were simply bad. Evil at their hearts. That or it was my ugliness that forced them to see me as fearful or a thing to loath. It took me decades to realize that only a few of them truly acted against me due to fear though. Only those who are evil will come for you, if you do not directly force their hands. At least for the most part.”
Liam understood the idea.
“So… Mary won’t be killed to make me do what they want?”
“I think not. You are new to them and unknown. When attacked you will fight. Still, you don’t use that as an excuse to murder or take life without just cause, even if it would be allowed to you under their own rules and laws. It would be foolish of them to push you into taking action that way. Killing Mary would start something with you that doing nothing else could at this point in your life. Given that I think they will protect her as well as they are able. Also… I’m not certain that this Simpson is what we are being led to think. I’ll look into this. You should as well, if you have such resources. For now, I think you should hold where you are, with Brenner. She is treating you well, other than those threats?”
Liam nodded, not even having to think about it too much. She wasn’t abusive or mean, other than the few sentences she’d spoken.
“She’s fine. I’d like to go home. Right now, we are both staying with Mitchel Wa
rner. You know of him?” They’d met in his presence, which didn’t mean Oaks would recall the man, in particular.
There was a strange look then, from the tall man.
“Of course. He’s roughly the leader of North America, for those not human. Did you not know that? I understand that things might seem very local for you. The world is larger than it used to be though. The secret board you found me on is worldwide, for instance. If you wish to contact one of the others of our kind, you will find them on such as well. From time to time, at least. I heard from your sister earlier, for instance. Lissette?”
Liam had heard the name before, though there was nothing else to connect things there. He nodded, since he couldn’t think of any particular reason to make a connection with the others like him. Then, they were, more or less his family. Important for being the only people that might, someday, understand him.
“I will look for them. I… Don’t know what to do though, in the moment.”
There was a shrug. It was graceful, giving the lie to the size of the being in front of him. He looked like he should be ungainly. Rough and uncontrolled. It wasn’t the truth. Oaks moved like he was dancing through the world, instead.
There was a sound, in the distance, away from the water. Far away, though Oaks turned to look at it.
“We should go soon. Someone is coming. For now, you should watch the FBI, as best you can. I have been doing so, from a remove, for some time. There are things going on behind the scenes that I cannot share just yet. Look into Simpson and see what you can find there. Don’t assume anything. If you need, come to me or call for me and I will come and help you leave. Do you need funds? I have some for you.” Again he patted his pocket.
