The Storm Giants

by Pearce Hansen

  Everett stared at him. “Need them to give up the location of the gold first. Too many places it could be hidden. This isn’t a hardware venue – you need to learn their hearts and minds like Phil has. Until the blood starts to flow, it’s always a people situation.”

  Tobias giggled. “And you’re a people person Henry? You’re gonna claim you’re not like me, that you wouldn’t mind seeing pretty much every human on earth die screaming?”

  “You’re too bloodthirsty Otis,” Everett said. “Anyways, didn’t say you had to like them, just know them enough to work.”

  Tobias sneered at him in good humor. “You got it bass ackwards, bo – think I haven’t seen the byplay between you and Phil?”

  “Check this,” Tobias said, jerking his chin at something behind Everett.

  Everett turned as if indifferent.

  David and Aaron were just entering the house through the garden door, deep in conversation. David wore a black suit and tie with white shirt, a younger handsomer clone of Aaron. While Aaron spoke continuously, David nodded continuously in reply to whatever pearls of wisdom Aaron deigned to share.

  Everett flipped the paring knife so it embedded itself handle deep in an unpeeled potato at his feet, uncoiling to stand. They strolled to the garden door.

  Beyond the segmented glass panes of the french door, several dozen computers were arrayed in back to back rows on long folding tables. Most of the people from the feast were in there, sitting in front of computers with headsets on. Many of them with their mouths moving, deep in conversation with whoever was on the other end of the line. They looked as rough around the edges as ever, however they were all dressed in the uniform of the house, button shirts and dresses.

  It was some kind of boiler room. If the telemarketing game was dead in Amicus, Phil’s people had figured out how to make their way amidst the ashes.

  Inside, Aaron left the room. Everett took that opportunity to go in, with Tobias close at his heels.

  “Hey, you guys,” David said.

  Tobias reached out and fingered the lapel of David’s suit coat. “So when do we get our monkey suits, kid?”

  “Soon, I’m sure,” David said. He gestured around the boiler room with pride. “How do you like it? Cool, huh?”

  To Everett’s front, a stocky older Mexican guy stared at a major bank’s web page on his screen, saving files of some sort with a click of his mouse. He wasn’t just surfing the site or editing it. He had administrator privileges. It was unlikely Phil had a contract to do web maintenance for a big bank like that.

  The next computer down, a thin brown haired girl in a business suit was text messaging somebody using an IM program. As she typed a seven digit SSN, Everett saw tattoos on the backs of her hands, covered over with makeup.

  The family was phishermen. Identity theft and wire fraud: this seemed the source of the new money train here.

  “Aaron and Phil made all this happen,” David said. “Because we all live together we can keep expenses down. We can do collections and telemarketing cheaper than if it’s outsourced. We’re a bargain, Aaron says.”

  “Ah, there you are grasshopper,” Phil’s boomed from the doorway.

  He strode up to Everett with hand extended. Everett took it, gave a pump and let go as Phil cocked his head and looked at him with gleaming eyes.

  “What do you think of our little operation?” Phil asked.

  Everett started to open his mouth but stopped as Aaron came into the room. Phil turned his back on Aaron, seemingly as a deliberate insult. Taking Everett by the shoulder, he steered him outside, leaving Aaron staring after them.

  “You’ve heard about Amicus’s plight, I presume?” Phil asked. “It’s been hard for us, regaining our credibility.”

  Behind them through the French door, Aaron was haranguing David.

  “Our little boom town shriveled up and returned to farmland obscurity as fast as it arose,” Phil said. “We’ve had to really lower our rates to stay in the game.

  “Globalization killed us,” Phil said like they were dirty words. “It’s like the flow of water downhill from the first world to the third world. The multi nationals are square in the middle.

  Phil looked off at the air as if posing for a photo opportunity. “Our jobs move downhill to the slave nations. Our money is siphoned into offshore accounts. We first world workers take major cuts in life style to remain ‘competitive.’

  “A downward spiral, but someday the water levels will equalize, as it were.” Phil’s hands gestured in accompaniment with his spiel. “Then the corporations and the financiers will take our money and move on.”

  Phil looked at Everett as if to gauge his response. “When globalization goes belly up, the first world – America – will be a society of gated communities for the wealthy, surrounded by masses of permanently unemployed living without any form of government safety net. Welcome to the banana republic of America.”

  Everett smiled bleakly, and Phil looked startled.

  What, did Phil think Everett was a fascist? A communist? Phil’s game couldn’t be that strong, if he thought Everett was the type to hope for ‘change.’

  The wealthy didn’t owe him anything. Everett almost admired the way they stacked the deck in their own favor at every opportunity. If people didn’t like it they should do something about it.

  So the rich take their money and run, sitting on their loot in high tech fortresses? They’d be isolated by their wealth, only having contact with the riff raff through their household menials and sex workers.

  Guns would still be for sale on every corner. The private armies guarding them would be easily corruptible rent-a-cops. They’re easy meat. The top predators in that world would gobble them up, only such beasts’ relative rarity saving the rich from decimation. Everett would have no trouble finding the big dogs and running with them, he’d land on his feet like always.

  “What do you think about it, Henry?” Phil asked. “You’ve got to have a position.”

  “No, I don’t. You can’t fix things, Phil,” Everett said. “The Citizens don’t care. What, you’re going to start some kind of revolution like Charlie Manson?”

  “I have my family right here,” Phil said, his eyes grown larger. “You have people too, Henry. You’re not the hermetically sealed loner you project yourself to be. That would be completely anti-life and I see you’re a survivor. I see a friend or two, a woman.”

  Phil closed his eyes. “I see a child, too. A boy. A son.”

  Everett looked at him, and Phil laughed: “It was fifty-fifty odds on the gender, Henry. I’m just having fun with you, is that alright?”

  Everett kept his eyes flat against Phil’s probing. The storm giants yammered alarm. Danger, Will Robinson.

  Phil said, “This is the world your son will grow up in, grasshopper.” His voice had gone soft but firm. “This is the world your son will inherit.”

  And in a weird involuntary flash, Everett saw that Phil was right. They’d shoe horn Raymond into their scams, brainwash his son into a docile robot. A wave of rage washed over Everett as he incorporated Phil’s appraisal of their threat to Raymond.

  A domino train had been constructed in his head and now commenced to topple. He shuddered as synapses fired in unforeseen ways. Phil continued to drone on while Everett wrestled with this distractingly intense anger. Phil leaned closer and his voice was a smooth, low, penetrating murmur dripping into Everett’s ears like poison: “. . . You must do this for your son, you have no choice.”

  Phil’s eyes seemed to be spinning hypnotic cartoon disks. No, how could that be?

  Everett cut off Phil’s whispered spiel, irritated and unsettled by the Phisherman’s satisfied look. “What did you just say, Phil? You want me to think you’re Atlas, trying to carry the world on your shoulders? You talking some kind of crusade, the unwashed masses standing up to the Man? That’d be slapping a band aid on top of a severed femoral artery and calling it fixed.”

  Everett squeezed
the rage away and stashed it in the lock box. He was shocked with himself, being manipulated to forget the bland diplomacy he should project toward this man. He had to give the old mind bender credit for a good psychic blow. With a few choice words Phil had rocked him somehow.

  “Keep walking that lonesome road of yours, you’ll be easy prey, grasshopper,” Phil said. “Seek safety in numbers.”

  “It can’t be fixed,” Everett said.

  Chapter 33 : Conflicting Agendas

  When Everett returned to potato peeling, Tobias wasn’t around. Aaron, however, was. Everett sat on the upended barrel, picked up a spud, and recommenced peeling.

  “I’ve been trying to figure out what’s the deal with you,” Aaron said. “I don’t like mysteries, they make me nervous.” His voice was calm, but his nostrils were flared and white.

  “No mystery here,” Everett said, peeling away. “Not much to tell, pretty boring.”

  “We may have gotten off on the wrong track,” Aaron said.

  “Don’t know about that,” Everett said, tossing a peeled spud into the bucket and reaching for another.

  Aaron emitted a strangled snarl and stepped on the potato Everett was about to grab, planting his weight on it firmly. Aaron’s crotch was right at Everett’s eye level. Everett looked at Aaron’s foot with hand still outstretched, then sat back and squinted up against the sun at Aaron.

  Aaron loomed over so him close that Everett wouldn’t be able to stand. Everett envisioned the response if he playfully stabbed the paring knife into Aaron’s groin as deep as the little blade would go. Femoral artery was right there, quick and quiet.

  “You have to tell me, I’m dying here,” Aaron said. “What do you and Phil talk about, when you and him go off on your own?”

  “You’d have to ask Phil,” Everett said, putting no confrontation at all into his tone. “He’d be the one to tell you.”

  Aaron abruptly took his foot of the potato pile with what he probably intended as an apologetic look. He paced up and down, much as Tobias had when pretending to work. Everett picked up the potato Aaron had stepped on, and started peeling it.

  “Didn’t mean to fly off the handle,” Aaron said as he paced. “It doesn’t have to be this way. I’m not your enemy.”

  “Course not,” Everett said. He placed the peeled spud in the bucket and grabbed another.

  Aaron stopped prowling and faced Everett. “All right, no bullshit, ok? We get wolves like you all the time, trying to winkle their way in and take advantage. I send them packing, fast.”

  “Taking advantage how?” Everett asked. “Y’all are the ones who invited us to dinner. Y’all are the ones who asked us to stay over. Doing what you’ll let us do, we’re no shirkers. Seems to be enough for Phil so far.”

  “Yes,” Aaron said, attempting a meaningful glance Everett refused to meet. “So far it seems to be enough for him all right. I’ll share with you. I’m confused and perturbed about not getting the order to give you the bum’s rush.”

  He pointed a finger at Everett. “He isn’t your friend. Don’t pretend you think so. You should be asking yourself just what Phil does want from you. Even you can’t think it’s no more than KP duty. You think Phil’s so wonderful? There are things about him that would change everybody’s mind if they knew. He’s not a good person. He’s done things. He’s a twisted fuck when you get to know him.”

  “Appreciate your input. Glad you’re looking out for my interests,” Everett said. “Watch the step with Phil, got it.”

  “Fine,” Aaron said. “I get it. I extend the hand of friendship and you slap it aside. It won’t be offered again. You just might come to wish you’d taken it.”

  “So we’ll cut to the chase,” Aaron said. “Your little friendy-poo, that Otis fellow? He just might want to stop skulking around the grounds. There are old open wells here hidden by undergrowth. Easy to fall into never be found. There are other hazards around, too. It’s probably healthier if neither of you tries wandering off anymore.

  Chapter 34 : An Unforgivable Crime

  Everett and Tobias were cooping in a room the size of a broom closet, two folding cots the sole furnishings. Everett awoke gasping in bed. It was the storm giants, hungry to be fed.

  A rustling in the dimness, and Tobias swiveled to sit up on the edge of his cot. “You make a lousy bunkie, Henry. So what’s the plan, boss? Time to spill it.”

  “Don’t have one yet. Still assessing.”

  “Craptacular,” Tobias said.

  “We’re in good shape, Otis,” Everett said. “We go to the bus terminal to scope out their recruiting methods; they invite us home for dinner. We eat with them to case the interior, they ask us to stay. We’re hawks among the pigeons. We’re in place for when a chance presents itself.”

  “All right, I’ll give you that,” Tobias said. “But now what? What’s the next – ‘line,’ is that what you call it?”

  “Waiting,” Everett said.

  “This is taking way too long.” Tobias’ tone brightened. “All right, your way’s worked up till now. All we got left is finding where the gold is and glomming it. You’re mainly known as an edged weapon guy. How’s about we creep up to Phil’s room, stick a knife up his asshole and tickle his insides for a while? He’ll cough up the gold right quick.”

  Everett opened his mouth to retort, and then shut it again. That was a possible move; it might come to that.

  “You like him,” Tobias said, accusing Everett of the unforgivable crime. “You make friends too easy, Henry.”

  “No, Otis,” Everett said with all the firmness musterable in self defense. “No, I don’t.”

  Ch apter 35: A Grasshopper’s Regard

  Everett awoke with a jolt when Tobias got out of bed.

  “What?” Everett asked.

  “Just going to drain the lizard,” Tobias said in a cheerful voice. “Unless you want to help me with that?”

  “Pass,” Everett said, inspecting Tobias’s tense form as best he could in the dimness of the darkened room.

  Tobias opened the door and started to step out into the hall. He just stood there, silhouetted by the light spilling in to dazzle Everett’s eyes. Tobias shut the door and slunk back to his bed.

  “What?” Everett asked again.

  “They’re planted on us,” Tobias said. “We’re boxed.”

  Someone knocked on the door. When Everett opened up, Phil stood in the hall looking unhappy.

  Everett made room for him to enter. As the big man walked past him into the tiny bedroom, Everett leaned out and looked down the hall. To the left, one of the Phishermen sat on a stool at the end of the hall, eye balling hard.

  Aaron stood next to the Phisherman, fuming in Everett’s direction but keeping his distance. Everett considered Aaron’s expression after looking away. It felt very important that he figure out what that look meant.

  Everett shut the door. “What’s with the guard, Phil? Lockdown?”

  Phil looked uncomfortable, from what Everett could see of him in the gloom. “This isn’t my doing, grasshopper. This is all Aaron. I’ve taken you into my house. I’ve broken bread with you. I’ve trusted you in the heart of my family, you’ll admit that?”

  “Yes,” Everett said. “I acknowledge your hospitality.”

  Phil wiped his face with the back of his hand. “I’m not in control of this, grasshopper. I can’t protect you from Aaron. He’s one step from taking my family away from me.”

  Phil stepped close so his face loomed from the dimness. He appeared afraid. “Do you have any regard for me at all, grasshopper?” Phil asked in a pleading voice, and then left.

  “You put us into this,” Tobias said from his bed. He rolled away to face the wall “They’ve got us by the balls.”

  Chapter 36 : The Storm Giants Come Out To Play

  Tobias thrashed around in his bed for a while. He finally stopped squirming and lay still for a good long while. Everett could tell from his breathing he was awake. Tobias arose from
his bed, trying for stealth. Everett watched with his eyes slitted.

  Tobias stepped in Everett’s direction, hovering over him. Everett kept his breathing and heartbeat slow, still as stone.

  Tobias turned back toward his bed and Everett heard furtive rustling. Tobias crouched at the window, peeking out through a corner of the pane at various angles. The window creaked up on its wooden rails. Tobias eeled out into the night and was gone.

  Everett was on his feet the instant Tobias pulled the window shut. He glanced over at Tobias’ cot. The little man had humped up his bedding to maybe pass a quick inspection.

  Everett paused as he pulled on one of his boots, wondering if he wanted to back Tobias’ play. Didn’t matter, he decided. No one would believe Tobias was playing a lone hand.

  Everett sat on the edge of his bed with hands folded, brain idling as he waited see if this was the line. He heard movement in the hall and snapped out of his fugue. He stepped to the door and threw the bolt. Someone tried the knob only a second after he locked it.

  There was whispered conversation out in the hall. Everett recognized David’s excited voice, even though the boy thought he was keeping it down. The floor boards creaked out there as several people moved down the hall, leaving silence again.

  Everett waited but the quiet on the other side of the door was unbroken. Looking around the room, he decided tearing out a bed spring would make too much noise. There was nothing else in sight to improvise a weapon from.

  He unlocked the door and waited, deciding what was on the other side. Nothing came to him, not even vague impressions.

  He pushed the door open and stepped out into the hall. David sat on the stool to the left staring at him. The mingled guilt and fear in his eyes told Everett everything he needed to know. David’s mouth dropped open; he was shocked and about to sound the alarm.

  Everett winked, and held a forefinger up across his lips in a conspiratorial S-s-s-s-h! He commenced long strides in the boy’s direction. David shuttled back and forth between trust and guilt. When Everett was within striking distance, a look of dawning realization filled David’s face.