((Abe returns to his office to find a shady potential client waiting with an offer he can’t refuse.
Link to the previous part, Part 3: Slow Recovery.))
Abe made a detour by the parking lot to grab his bag out of the back of the beat-up car he called his own before walking into the office building, where there was no one waiting at the front desk. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure he had ever seen anyone behind the glass since he signed his lease, but that just meant fewer questions whenever he was back in town. Instead, he took the stairs up to his floor, only to stop when he spotted the man standing in the middle of the hallway.
Right next to the door to his office/as close as he got to home these days.
He played with the idea of turning around and just going back to his car, but there was always the chance he would just run into the guy on his way out. Abe took another long sip of his coffee before stepping out of the stairwell and walking straight toward the door, hoping that maybe the man was just hanging out and waiting for someone else.
A hope that quickly died when the man turned with a slightly off movement, his head turning and his body following with a slight delay to fix Abe with a cold stare behind black square frame glasses.
“Abe Lincoln,” the man said, more a declaration than a question.
“That’s what they call me,” Abe said. His keys were already in his free hand, but he found himself slowing as he approached. A voice in the back of his mind screamed that there was something off about the man, more than just his odd movements and smile that failed to match his eyes. While he couldn’t point out what it was immediately, Abe knew enough to trust his instincts and keep his distance. “And I’m not taking clients at the moment. I left a sign on the door, didn’t you see it?”
“This just says ‘Be back sooner or later.’”
Oh. In hind sight, he probably should have double checked which sign he put up before he left three months ago.
“Well, point is I’m still not here to take another case, if that’s what you’re looking for,” Abe said. “Maybe call ahead next time, make an appointment with my secretary if I ever get one. And if you’re here looking for money, then you can just get in line behind everyone else.”
The man turned in place to watch as Abe circled around him to get to the door, the hunter just as careful not to take his eyes off of the visitor. Abe was already weighing his options, considering whether a punch with the keys in his fist or a splash from what was left of his coffee would be enough to distract the stranger if push came to shove. He had more options stowed on his person and in his coat, but this close there wasn’t a lot of room for trial and error if he didn’t know what he was dealing with.
“While I am capable of waiting out here as long as necessary, perhaps the hunter might be willing to hear my employer’s offer first. He is willing to offer you far more than your usual rate, in return for your assistance in looking into a particular person of interest.”
“Don’t see why he would need a hunter for that,” Abe said, making a show of unlocking his door. This close, he realized that it wasn’t just the stilted way the man talked, the emphasis not quite falling on the right words. Watching him out of the corner of his eye, he realized that the man’s chest wasn’t moving, just as there was no sign of movement around his nose or mouth when he wasn’t actually speaking.
The stranger wasn’t breathing.
“Just who is your employer?” Abe asked, trying to sound casual as he pulled his bag off his shoulder and tossed it down just inside the office door, on top of the pile of late notices covering the floor. Leaning against the frame left the hand not holding the coffee cup out of sight and free to reach for the handle of his revolver. Bullets didn’t work against everything, but they sure helped slow down most things.
“He would prefer to remain anonymous in this situation—”
“Nope,” Abe said, already reaching for the door.
“Wait!” The stranger reached out to stop the door from shutting only for his whole body to stutter the second his hand tried to cross the threshold. Sparks arced between his fingers and raced up his arm before he yanked himself backwards. His whole head twitched to the side before he returned to his far too straight stance, and Abe was quick to notice the red light in the man’s brown eyes before it disappeared, although his scowl remained. “You have anti-magic wards.”
“Of course I do, what hunter worth his salt wouldn’t think of something that basic?” Abe scoffed. And those were far from the only protections he had in place, although he was pretty sure the handy sigils he carved into the interior of the door frame probably meant he wouldn’t be getting his deposit back on this place. Landlords generally didn’t recognize a good thing when they had it.
Magic, but the ward hadn’t stopped some kind of spell or curse, it had reacted like he was the magic. Not fae, the eyes would give it away. Maybe an inanimate object powered by magic? One shaped like a human, or else Abe would have seen through it when he tried to break the ward, but that didn’t explain the sparks. He could probably figure it out with a few more clues, or…
Screw it, Abe thought.
“What are you?”
The man paused before he answered, his words falling out quickly as though he couldn’t help answering, “I am a Google unit, a blend of technology and magic created to provide information and services to my employer. Among other things.”
Magitek? Abe had heard of it, but never anything like this. This Google thing looked human, or human enough if you could ignore the slightly stilted mannerisms and the whole not blinking once while they had been having this conversation thing.
“Guess that explain the ‘G’,” Abe muttered, gesturing to the vivid white letter on the unit’s red shirt. “Well you can provide your employer with the information that I said ‘no.’ Hell no, if you feel like it.”
“While it is typical of humans to be reluctant to deal with superior beings—”
“Okay, I’m going to stop you right there. I seriously doubt the ‘superior’ thing, but I don’t care what you are. The point is, I don’t take work from anyone who won’t meet me in person, much less refuses to even give me a name. Believe it or not, I do have standards.”
The Google unit’s eyes moved from Abe’s face to stare pointedly at the darkened office behind him, the floor covered in late notices and clothes that didn’t make the cut to come along on his latest trip, filing cabinets crowded up against the paper-covered desk, and the multiple cork boards full of papers and photographs pinned and connected to each other by lengths of string, and that was just what could be seen from the office door.
“Clearly. That is why my employer requested that I bring this to you, hunter. He believes that this person may be involved in certain activities that could be a danger to others, including to someone of value to significant persons within the city. If he were to take these suspicions through official channels, there might be enough bias against the person of interest to prevent a real investigation from taking place.”
Abe had to take a second to work that out, but considering they were coming to him he thought he could take a guess. “This person you want me to look into isn’t human, and if enough rumors float around they could be in trouble whether it’s true or not.”
“Correct.”
Abe hesitated. He had taken enough cases like this before, but never one that sent up this many red flags at one time. There was clearly something shady going on here, and the last thing he needed was to get dragged into someone else’s mess when he had enough of his own to deal with.
As if sensing something else was needed, the Google unit added, “I have been given permission to tell you that an exchange of information is also on the table, should you choose to take this case.”
“What kind of information?”
“Information regarding one Wilford Warfstache, the most recent alias of the man formerly known as William J. Barnum.”
The floor could have opened out underneath Abe at that moment and he didn’t think he would have noticed the difference. Without realizing it, he had stepped back out into the hall, his hand wrapped tight in the collar of the unit’s red shirt as he pulled him closer.
“What do you know about him?” he growled, but the automaton’s expression did not change.
“All information about this person is stored in a file that I cannot access until given permission by my employer, which will not be granted until you provide your own information about our person of interest.” Google did not blink, and there was no trace of concern in his voice as he added, “If you attempt to damage this unit, the information can and will be deleted.”
Abe forced himself to let go of the unit’s shirt, but his hand just as quickly closed into a fist. “Why should I believe you know anything about him that I don’t?”
“I cannot provide that information until permission is granted. However, my employer thought you might be interested to learn that last night at approximately 12:37 AM, the local police received a report of strange lights and noises at the house formerly known as Markiplier Manor. By the time they arrived, there was no sign of any persons in the area,” Google answered, his gaze taking on the faraway stare that Abe was beginning to recognize as him recalling something from his memory.
Abe made a conscious effort to control his reaction to those words, to keep his breathing steady and his eyes as clear as he could, to not give in to the shudder that raced down his spine to meet the pit opening in his stomach.
“That could be anything,” he said. “Some kids messing around, frisky raccoons, you name it. Doesn’t mean it’s related to—to him.”
“I am also allowed to say that we have reason to believe that Wilford Warfstache has returned to the city,” Google said. “But as I cannot provide anything to verify this information until after you provide something in return, and you are clearly not interested—”
“Wait.”
Abe hated this, he hated not knowing what he was getting himself into, he hated not knowing who was behind this, hated that whoever it was clearly knew enough to get his interest and press his buttons, but more than anything he hated the idea of missing his chance to finally get his hands on the one monster that had evaded him all these years. If there was even a chance this thing could lead him to the Colonel, or whatever he was calling himself these days…
“Who does your employer want me to look into this bad?” Abe asked.
“Does this mean you’re taking the case?” Google asked in turn.
Just because he agreed, it didn’t mean he couldn’t do his own investigating on the side. And if this guy was as dangerous or as in danger as robot boy here claimed, then maybe it wouldn’t hurt Abe to look into him.
“Yeah, I’ll find out what you need to know. Just give me a name.”
The Google unit pulled an envelope out of his pocket and presented it to Abe, inside of which he found a downtown address, a photograph of the man in question, and a copy of a certificate verifying the person in question was registered with the city and the Bronson Institute.
“My employer wants you to obtain as much information as possible about any suspicious activities or relationships involving the vampire, Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein.”
bricxbrac replied to your post: Abel is just here to see a certain centaur.
Seeing the other trip, Abel quickened his pace as he approached. “Otiice–are you all right?” He reached out a hand instinctively, allowing it to rest on the centaur’s equine shoulder before pulling it back with a quick apology at the touch.
{❆} - A jolt ran through Otiice when Abel touched him, the memory of “being tamed,” hands on him, always trying to hold him down, rough hands, mean hands...
But Abel’s hands were not rough! He had to keep reminding himself, they were gentle! He wasn’t like other humans, he was different-!
“I’m... I’m fine. Thank you, Abel..” He looked up at the other trying to reassure him that he really was.
"Who could ever learn to love a beast?" Abraham asked self depreciatingly, looking away.
“Abe,” she whispers, voice wavering with emotion. Her hand comes to rest upon his shoulder before she pulls him back against her chest. “Who could ever think of you as a beast? Hmm?”
