Authors: Unknown
"That's just plain creepy man." There was no anger in Elizabeth's voice, nor was there accusation. "Since you've come clean, and you smell worried about something I might as well tell you." She grabbed the glass and took a sip, then a long drink before setting it back. "Good stuff, I'll have to see if I can't get some of it imported when I go home. Anyway George you don't have to worry if I'm going to turn into a werewolf or something like that because of that thing that mauled me because I already am one." George quirked his head to one side, then the other, but didn't interrupt. "Had I been paying attention to my nose I would have known he was there long before I got to where he was waiting, but I've always been a city girl so just took the smell as something that was supposed to be here. I mean I'd had a whole load of scents stuck in my nose I'm not familiar with since I landed."
"That would explain why you've healed so fast," George's eyes flicked to Elizabeth's arm then to her face. "I won't ask for a family history or anything like that, but till you have to go would you mind staying here? I wouldn't mind the company, and while the resorts and hotels around here are good, I'm sure you would like to discuss a few things with someone that won't think you've gone of the deep end, drunk, or have a few crossed wires."
"That actually sounds like a pretty good idea. I've got what, three or four days left before I have to get back. If you can get me to a phone so that my folks and everyone else knows I'm alright I wouldn't mind." She gave another of those predatory
smiles. "Just so long as you keep as well behaved as you are right now I think my folks might actually want to know you a little better. They keep whining about me needing to find more people I can relate to and, well..." She covered her lack of anything else to say by draining the rest of her beer.
The rest of the week was spent with Elizabeth learning the ins, outs, and other assorted things that might pop up at George's 'lair'. He laughed when he described his home in terms that most might find more fitting to a mad scientist rather than as the home of a young networked bio-engineer with seven different degrees, and several ancient titles. Though to be perfectly fair if the man went by his full and proper name,
Count Milliardo Gregorie Von Somethingorother
, we would be somewhat harder pressed into not thinking of the man as something ripped from a cheap dime novel drama, or garishly colored comic-book villain.
George, with more than a little help from Elizabeth, had finally managed to get several of the larger boxes his more usual help had been unable to unpack without destroying the contents, and all but two or three of those that had offered to help seemed to not show up till roughly an hour after the hard and heavy work had been done. Coincidentally this was right when our intrepid duo had relaxed in front of the just-unpacked TV to watch a movie. Needless to say, while they would probably welcome any other day, they were asked with carefully chosen words to find somewhere else to be for the rest of the afternoon.
Elizabeth learned that other than zombies and other engineered life George made it his business to study 'mythic' life. For you and I that means he studies dragons, were-creatures, chimera, and other things that modern science tells us either never existed or were simply based off of half-wrong ideas of how old bones went together. Try telling that to George after he had been out to take a survey of the local population. Granted most were about the size of your average rottweiler full-grown, but then again George holds out hope some of the larger examples will surface.
"I don't care if they're pretty, or a natural part of the landscape. I had an uncle that would go looking for them." Elizabeth had a cross expression on her face when they spoke of George's outing over dinner the night before. "Note the past tense there. Had. As in he went and got himself EATEN!"
George waved off her concern, even though she could still catch a slight whiff of worry in his scent. "Don't worry Beth. I've got everything in hand, and I've got people with me so I'm no more than two minutes from help, five tops. Between that and the mace I tested this morning in case any of them do show up when I'm at any of the nesting sites it'll probably be one of the most boring trips I've made all season.
George's phone rang, prompting Elizabeth to roll her eyes when she thought he wasn't looking. "I know Don. I know, Listen to me. You'll have your money when I have my molecular-decohearer!" He practically stabbed the end call button before setting the phone back down. "Sorry. I'd put an order for a few odds and ends that might make things go a little smoother here." He shrugged while attempting to stop being angry about his order being fouled... again... "What sort of work does your family do?"
"Lets see." Elizabeth looked up from her food. "Mom used to sell furniture before she met Dad. After my little brother got big enough to leave with a sitter she worked part time at a few places, but right now she's trying to get a realtor's license. Dad, well, He'd worked his butt off to try getting in at NASA. Unfortunately once he and mom started dating, well," She sighed theatrically, "He thought it wasn't safe for anyone after that so switched to a position with the ground and testing crews. Sure it doesn't have the glory that the guys wearing the mission patches have, but without thousands of people on the ground working their hearts out those eight or dozen people that go up might not make it back." She gestured with her glass, "Take Apollo thirteen, Skylab, or even a few of the shuttle missions if you want examples of how needed the ground crews are."
George nodded thoughtfully. "An interesting set of parents. What about you and your siblings?"
After taking a drink Elizabeth hmmed thoughtfully. "I think Zack's still got his heart set on opening a hardware store of his own rather than run one of the big box places. I don't get it, but then again I try staying out of the local v national issue. A store is a store, and so long as the people there don't treat me like dirt I generally buy where I know I can get what I want." George seemed to take this in with little comment, so she continued. "Me personally? I dunno. Other than howling at the moon and having a few mad scientists or former experiments show up my family seems to largely go in for the normal humdrum of life. Sure they sent me to a school that teaches cryptobyology and has a few centaurs and other 'mythic' races as staff, but I think they have me pegged to follow in the nice normal routine."
"you sound like you're not convinced you want that." George sounded somewhat sympathetic. "What's the problem, can't find a way to break it to your folks that you want to go for the less conventional?"
"Actually," Elizabeth pushed her plate away from her, "It's more a problem of finding an employer that would treat me as something other than either a minion to be ordered about, or someone to put in a skimpy outfit to act as eye candy for the visitors." She grunted, "I'm sure you know how most mad science types are. It all seems either death rays, big discoveries made in the small hours of the morning, and all about them and their needs. Sure I like the idea of helping someone put conventional science in it's place, but I'd want to be treated with a little dignity."
"Well, I wouldn't mind if you stayed on as staff. Lord and Edison knows I could use someone with a little bit more conversation skills around here." He noted Elizabeth growling when Edison was mentioned and sighed ever so slightly. "Please
don't tell me you're another of those yonks that have a burning seething unreasoning hate of Edison. He practically invented the modern laboratory."
She continued growling low until she could think of a proper response. "Without digging up how he treated Tesla I'm going to have to point out that by all accounts his methodology tended to go along the lines of 'throw everything at the wall and see what sticks' instead of trying to do any of the math. Plus it's funny how you seem to speak well of the man since he pretty much put the lone inventor out of business." She smiled warmly at George then added, "I did see his lab once. I might think the man a self absorbed arrogant louse, but his workspace is something to aspire to."
On that point they found agreement, so decided to end the discussion while they were at a point where they weren't shouting at each-other. Instead they finished dinner and went out to tour the latest round of test animals George had been using. Two had died, and autopsies would need to be preformed later to see just how they had died, and a few others were in the process of dying. These were put down painlessly after what was killing them had been noted. Elizabeth didn't like when the animals died, and for the matter neither did George, but both knew that you couldn't find answers without a little mess. Plus at least this way it had been animal lives in the balance. If all worked as they hoped those would save who knows how many human lives over the years. Both also noted that they were combating diseases and other ailments that mainstream medicine had no clue existed.
Soon Elizabeth's vacation ended, and she had to return to the states. For a moment she was tempted to drop out of school and keep working here, but even with an amiable boss, and an apparently low-stress environment were not enough to sway her from her degree. Sure it may not be needed, but not only would her family give her hell over dropping out, she'd have to look herself in the mirror and wonder if she had it in her to grab the brass ring or not. They had talked it over, and though he would miss her help and conversation George said he understood. He also said that if she ever changed her mind he more likely than not would still need that extra pair of hands.
Before she left, George had seen to it that the things that a few added things were packed away that she would not discover till after she had gotten home. On unpacking her luggage she found a note from George asking her to keep in touch as well as a physical address she could send packages to, or expect to receive items from, as well as an email address she could keep in touch with on a more routine basis.
Idly she wondered if people that deal in ‘abnormal technology and sciences’ would be interested in a more modern approach to social networking. Most were stuck in the fifties in terms of communications, but a few forward thinkers seemed to be trying. MadSparks.com and ScienceGoneWrong.net both looked like possible solutions for this social networking problem. She had bigger fish to fry though, school meant working ‘round the clock again.
Night Watch is Lonely Business
I suppose it's best to explain the purpose of this before you read further and get all muddled by confusing and sometimes conflicting accounts. Perhaps it would be more dramatic if I said I didn't have a name, or had keep my private identity a secret, but there are too many in my profession that try high drama and come off worse for the attempt. The point about needing to keep my personal life to myself, however, is still valid; so call me Max. It’s not my birth name, but it is the name I have always used when I’m working.
I don't like being called a superhero, or masked avenger, or any number of the colorful terms that people in my line of work have been stuck with over the decades. Having said that, yes I can jump Really High, bend and break things most normal people can’t, and in general shooting at me will be more of an annoyance than an actual problem. There are dozens, if not hundreds, of people like me. Each have their own unique talents, skills, and abilities, and most manage the trick of holding down a solid job and a ‘civilian’ identity. It is unfortunate that I’m not one of these, and though I do have a normal home and social life I tend to when I hang my metaphorical cape up, this seems to be the one job I seem well suited for. What follows is my attempt at sharing portions of my life, opinions, and tidbits in the news I feel are worth commenting on. Please keep any cringing to yourself.
TALENT NIGHT GOES WRONG.
Where do I start here? OK fine. I'm sure nobody's ever heard of Bugtussle. Small town I hadn't heard of either and probably wouldn't have ever known about except for the fact I rode through on top of a trailer load of stolen goods. Team of anywhere between six and ten guys come through with a Semi, park in front of Two Rivers Mall, and leave with- Actually I'm not sure how much was actually in the trailer. I showed up because I was closer than the police.
That actually oversimplifies things by not taking into account that although technically I have legal authority and jurisdiction there are several in the traditional chain of command that my activities encourage, rather than discourage, criminal activity. These same people also feel that in those instances where I succeed I somehow hurt department credibility and undercut the need for Winston's Finest. Can't really say I blame the thought there. After all what if I stop going after cases where it's pretty easy to tell who's on which side of the law and start going into things that need a more delicate approach to finding enough proof to make the arrest stick.
As interesting as that thought might be to some of you we're getting off on a tangent.
I'd shown up right when they were leaving. At first I’d taken them for either cleaning or re-stocking or something. No masks, calm I-Belong-Here attitude, and appropriate looking clothes. Still, alarm inside tripped and if these people were legit they would have probably made arrangements to have someone from their employer handle that all important detail. So while they were leaving I hopped on the top of their trailer to see what I could see. I left a noticeable dent in the top of the thing, and if something less questionable showed up I'd be unavailable to lend a hand. Plus I was in a pretty exposed spot if their response to strange noises involved automatic gunfire.