I, Human

Fate of The Stranger | Known At Last

Daniel Moorcock was never quick to turn to the bottle when things went south. He also was not the kind to believe in tales meant for children. Yet, as the riflemen took aim and fired, as the "pigs of proof" squealed and died, as the bullets carried on and slammed into the skin of the restrained beast. As the beast screamed and roared against the agony of its skin splitting and reknitting itself, Daniel could deny it no longer.

His daughter was a damned fool.

The London Zoo was filled to the point overflowing. Pipes carrying steam and water that snaked beneath the walkways would be enough to keep him warm enough, even in the early spring months. Today, however, he found himself suffocating. The scotch he had downed earlier still seared his throat but he suspected that wasn't the only reason he was suffocating.

To the chorus of curses and insults, Daniel pushed his way out of the crowd and into the streets. It had been bad enough when his daughter held the trigger to the thing's head. When he was forced to witness its brains flow back into its head and then he was forced to watch it again.

Now it was on display for the whole damned world to see. The press of people extended far out past the zoo gates. Many officers in blue and guards in black watched him. He noticed a few hands tightening on their rifles but an old man trying to move as fast as two legs and a cane could carry him was hardly threatening.

Daniel hobbled onto the wider streets, passing people and machinations and buildings and still, the air wasn't enough. The sounds of the gunshots still rang in his head, the screams that followed tried to push him to his knees. But, even cup-shot and scared, Daniel was not a weak man.

I just need some air, he thought as he braced against a wall for a few breaths. Each heave of his chest brought less and less sustenance—the air here was so clouded with smoke and steam. Cutting his losses, he continued walking, rounding a corner only to have the breath he had worked so hard for knocked from his lungs.

"I am so sorry... Daniel?"

Daniel raised his head and fought the urge to groan.

"Hello, Hannah. Now isn't the best time."

Hannah sighed and readjusted her rifle. "First Phil, now you?"

"Philip..." Daniel slurred. He wasn't drunk enough to be swaying so he let the officer lead him away from the people who cursed them under their breath as they were forced to step around. No one would openly insult an officer of the law but still, the thoroughfare was no place to be puggled.

"What happened to Philip?" Daniel asked.

"I found him yesterday, drunk and beat up," she said as she led him toward her transporter.

Daniel felt the coldness inside him flare and his hands shook—demanding the pipe. He ignored the desire and cursed himself for good measure. They were both shaken when they left Drista's cabin yesterday. He should have at least checked up on the lad. Drista could think what she willed about preferences but Philip was the son he'd always wanted. It didn't mean he loved her any less.

Faint traces of gunshots and outroar reached his ears. The screams, somehow, weren't faint at all—as loud as if he were standing right next to it. No creature under God's gaze should go through anything that wrestled such sounds from its throat.

"Come on you old drunk."

Daniel shuddered turned away from the direction of the zoo and clambered into the seat beside Hannah's in the transporter. She worked some dials, a crank, and pulled a lever then the machine roared to life. It was a newer technology, powered by some crystal developed by the Ministry of Arcane affairs. Daniel himself had officiated a writ of requisition for the new energy source. He was eager to experiment but for now, the Ministry was only distributing to engineers in the Ministry of Defense. It was common sense; glean the technology for any advantage it would give to those willing to do the empire or its people harm.