NO! WAIT! Mustn't think about being a werewolf! Nobody must know! If they know then the bad people might come and force him full of silver drugs that make him forget he's a werewolf - that make him believe that he is small and weak and stupid - with a weak and stupid name. AUSTIN DANIEL GRETHERHAM!!! The name rattles around in Werewolf's head like a burning ember, threatening to burn away all it touches. GretherhamgretherhamgretherhamgretherhamGRETHERHAM GRETHERHAMGRETHERHAMGRETH... NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
The name recedes, and with it the pain and disorientation. He is Werewolf. WEREWOLF! WEREWOOOOOOOOOLF! But he cannot let others know. He must maintain the facade (he pronounces it "fuh-CADE" in his head) - the men with the silver drugs must not find him. He must complete his task to... to...
Cubum autem in duos cubos, aut quadratoquadratum in duos quadratoquadratos, et generaliter nullam in infinitum ultra quadratum potestatem in duos ejusdem nominis fas est dividere: cujus rei demonstrationem mirabilem sane detexi. Hanc marginis exiguitas non caperet.
There are no positive integers such that xn+yn=zn for n>2. I've found a remarkable proof of this fact, but there is not enough space in the margin [of the book] to write it.
Werewolf contemplates Fermat's Last Theorem for a moment. He tries it out using the address of a nearby building. He still can't prove it. He wonders what Fermat was thinking when he wrote it - what secret Diophantus' Arithmetika held for him alone and no other.
Out of an alleyway ahead come two men. One, a big bruiser, looks to be a real hardcase. The other, smaller but still with the streetwise look of a survivor, has a nose swathed in bandages. Something about them resonates in Werewolf's mind. Something makes him think that these two are somehow - important. As if they were players in some great game that Werewolf is only beginning to understand. Perhaps he should approach them.
Werewolf comes to a halt. He looks at those two men. They are... moving. Suddenly, the voice wakes up inside his head: 'Yo, whazzup, dogface! Y'all gonna stand here all day, or what? Wanna talk to the bouncers, then move, fool, know what i'm sayin'?' Werewolf hates that wannabe-gangsta-thug voice in his head. It makes him feel extremely uncomfortable. so uncomfortable that he sometimes even begins to run, hoping to leave that infernal voice behind.
"SHUT UP!" he screams.
He guesses that that must have caught the attention of those men, because they are giving him that look, that all people give him, when he is... discussing... things with himself. He has to approach them. Now. Walking. Walking? Oh, yeah. Left foot, then right foot. Finally he catches up with them. Standing in front of them, he musters up all of his intelligence and says:
"Uhm..."
* * *
Ben and KK begin walking quickly towards Gun Metal, hurrying a bit in the hopes of arriving before Gun Metal closes. They have gone about a block when a large, hulking form staggers out of an alley about a block ahead. Just as he emerges from the alley the man screams "SHUT UP!" then pauses sheepishly, catches sight of the pair, and cautiously approaches.
"Uhm..." he says, as he nears.
KK lifts his pained head to look at the approaching man. Good God, he is a giant. He must be 2.1, 2.2 meters tall. He is wearing wide, baggy, dark clothes, casting a gloomy presence: a black trenchcoat, that is definitely too big, and black baggy trousers and a black t-shirt that was [you guessed it] too big. [Now you try and find clothes that are too big when you’re the size of a small mountain.] He walks slowly, without hurry. His hair is very, very black, his skin is a burnished, tropical brown, and his eyes... His eyes have reddish glow that must be due to the flickering sunset.
For Ben's part, he mostly ignores the newcomer. He pays just enough attention to ensure that there's no immediate threat before passing on by.
Werewolf oggles the bullethole on the shoulder of Ben's jacket. It is almost hypnotizing to him. He stops blinking, then he even stops stepping nervously from leg to the other (which he did before, because he forgot what he wanted to say, but he was sure, that it was quite important.) Slowly, he looks Ben in the eyes.
"There is no proof of that. Actually it is rather a mystery in itself. Because the method that would prove that pi is infinite has to be, which is obvious, the same that would prove that there is an infinte number of prime numbers. But after more than 600 years of research no one has come up with a proof of that. Oh yeah, unless of course, if you count..." The rest of his monologue becomes impossible to understand, as Werewolf's voice subsides and leaves the premises in order to make room for... moronic silence.
While the unusually large man doesn't seem to be threatening KK at the moment, KK is still wary of people who hang around in alleys talking to themselves. So he gives this one a wide berth and keeps his eyes on him, just in case he makes a move towards KK's hurting nose, which at this point demands a lot of protection. Beyond that it's "see what Ben does, do what Ben does".
Werewolf snaps back to the real world. 'Did i have my cereal this morning?', he thinks. he can't remember. Turning to the two men: "Is one of you... you know, are you... like, the first one?" About 35 of his personalities - in his head - at the same time: [Moron!]
Ben doesn't so much as bat an eye as he passes on by. He's come to the conclusion that Werewolf is merely another mentally deranged bum not worthy of a second look. If nothing of real interest happens within the next few moments it's likely Ben will round the corner and be gone.
KK on the other hand is always eager to open himself up to new kinds of trouble. So he summons up enough patience to stop and give the poor man a single chance to become coherent.
"I don't know. What's the first one like?"
The large, rather bewildered man seems to have become catatonic for the moment.
KK just shakes his head and turns around to follow Ben to that Gun Metal store. What was he thinking? That a person hanging around in an alley talking to himself would start making sense if given half a chance? He really should've known better, especially when he's on this island, in this city and in this neighborhood. Ouch, there goes his nose again...
One moment they are here... and the next they are gone! Werewolf
does not quite comprehend how people can vanish in an instant. Or
did he doze off again? Oh well. He turns on his heel, only
to see the two men enter a store nearby. There they are. Hoarsely:
"WAIT FOR ME! I CAN CALCULATE!" He hurries after them.
As the pair survey the imposing locked edifice, a shambling figure exits the alleyway next to Gun Metal. The figure is dressed in rags that cover it from head to foot, making it look a bit like Obi Wan (if ILM had used bits of cloth dug out of festering dumpsters to make Alec Guiness' costume). It stops and turns towards the duo. Its hands (the only place where skin shows at the moment) have long fingers, tipped with filthy nails. Where not covered with dirt and grime, the skin is as pearly as cooked egg white.
"Spare change?" says the apparition in a weird warbling voice. "Help a homeless mutant?"
As the two regard this creature, a hoarse cry comes from the direction they just came from.
"WAIT FOR ME! I CAN CALCULATE!"
"Hey, I'm homeless too," KK says to the mutant, leaving out an obvious "and you don't see me running around begging for spare change".
With that, KK hopes the mutant will leave him and his spare change alone so he can turn and gawk at the lunatic who thinks calculation is so goddamn important.
"Well, they're sure comin' out of the woodwork now," says Ben. "Let's find a cab and get the hell out of here before any more of 'em show up."
"Yeah, I'm hungry. Let's go to some quiet place for food," KK agrees. He doesn't take his eyes off the calculator though, except to make sure there's still some distance between himself and the mutant beggar.
Werewolf finally catches up with the two men. He can't quite shake off the feeling, that he shouldn't lose them. He steps up and expresses his thoughts: "I think that I shouldn't be losing you guys," and with a glance at the mutant he adds: "...but maybe you should think of losing him, you know." And furthermore, in order to make them see the benefits of having him hang around: "Look, I can... um... I mean, like, I can... calculate?" Pause. "Oh, yeah, and I can fight, too!" Big grin.
KK looks up and down the fighting mathmagician, and ponders whether or not another fighter would be worth his share of the loot. "Do you have any money?" he asks, staring at the other man in an attempt to capture his attention for long enough for him to provide an answer.
"Money?" asks Werewolf. Then he remembers. "Oh, I know! It's those things you need to buy stuff!" he yells out cheerfully, proud of himself, that he managed to stay focused. A little bit baffled he quickly explains: "No, I don't have any, because no one ever asked me for any."
With this last exchange between KK and Werewolf, Ben finally turns his full attention towards the newcomer. Ben looks the big man up and down for a few moments, shaking his head all the while. "What are you, a fucking retard? You expect to stumble out of an alley mumbling incoherently and latch on to the first passerbys? You admit to having no money. What are you going to eat? Where are you going to sleep? No, your more trouble than your worth. I'm not in the market for a stray dog, even if he can calculate."
"Food?" Werewolf begins to assume that the man who called him
a retard might actually be one himself. "What about food? When
i'm hungry, I eat. And I sleep whereever there is a comfortable place.
Only last week I met a friendly family who even left their house all for
me. All of their food and things for me. And I hade the choice
where I wanted to sleep, because I was the only one in the whole house.
I liked the parents' bed most. It was reeeaaally comfy. And..."
At this point, something in Werewolf's head goes snap... once again.
"What is a 'retard'?"
"Let's go then, I really need some food now," KK says and makes a brave attempt to enter the jitney.
The double side loading doors of the van are still open, and inside Ben and KK can see that the cargo space normal in such vehicles has been filled with several seats which look to have been ripped out of other vehicles and bolted to the floor. While the exterior of the van is in pristine condition (particularly for a vehicle so old) the interior has clearly seen better days.
Near the front seat an Al Amarjan man in his late thirties with olive skin, black hair and a physique that could best be described as 'pear shaped' is putting a placard in the window which reads "FLOWERS" He holds one in his hand which reads "FOUR POINTS". Glancing back at the pair he says "Five dollars".
At about this time the hulking form of Werewolf arrives on the scene, still not noticeably winded.
Ben hands the driver five bucks before climbing into the van and taking a seat.
Werewolf stops in front of the van. And when Werewolf stops in front of something, he stops IN FRONT of something. right. in. front. Of. The. Van. He opens his mouth to say something, forgets what he wanted to say, leaves his mouth open and ponders the meaning of the rule of Steinitz for endless bodies until he remembers what he wanted to say.
KK goes through his pockets to find an even $5, grumbles a little about the expensive bus fare, but still hands the money over to the driver. It's definitely worth five bucks to get out of this neighborhood, and for extra safety KK chooses a seat far away from the loading doors. Or in other words, he's still trying to make use of Ben as a human shield.
"...gah!", Werewolf finally finishes his sentence. Seeing his "fellows" entering the van, most spontanously urges him on to do the same. And since he is not able to understand the faculty of trading various goods in order to fulfill a mutually beneficial unspoken contract (in this case: to pay five bucks in order to buy a fare on the van) he tries to climb into the vehicle without paying, looking at no specific point in the infinity, while doing so.
The driver holds out a hand. "Five crankshaft pulley vibration damper bucks," he says.
Werewolf's 324-mile-yard stare - couldn't have been a 5-mile one, because he was REALLY somewhere else - becomes focused. And the point of focus is the outstretched hand of the driver. Imagine lots of crashing and tinkling and grinding sounds, just as it must sound, when the clockwork of Big Ben starts wheeling. that is not what happens inside Werewolf's head. Silence would more befit the circumstances up there. Without taking his eyes off the driver's hand, Werewolf growls: "Do you know my name?"
"No," replies the driver. "Five dollars."
"Then stop TALKING TO ME!", Werewolf thunders and jumps at the driver, trying to either make him piss his pants or to bite his throat. Nevermind which one.
The jitney driver's reaction is instantaneous - surprisingly so. The Ford van leaps into reverse and instead of hitting the driver Werewolf finds himself smashing face first into the dashboard (not equipped with a passenger side airbag, incidentally) just an instant before the vehicle collides with a parked car behind it. The force of the impact nearly gives both Ben and KK whiplash and sets KK's nose to aching again, but sends Werewolf bouncing back down the aisle to ram head first into the rear loading doors. The jitney then roars out into traffic.
"FIVE DOLLARS THIRTY AMP FUSE BASTARD!" screams the driver over the roar of the engine.
"Goddamn!" KK says, and the image of Uma Thurman doing cocain in "Pulp Fiction" appears in his mind. It's really too bad that the situations that warrant a pill from his little bottle are also the same situations in which he can't afford to be under the influence of those pills. A real catch 22. How cute.
Werewolf is angry. Really angry. There are a couple of various places, where he has started to hemorrhage. Realizing this oppurtinity he hastens to the driver and bleeds profusley all over him. Bleed. Bleed.
Werewolf staggers to his feet and begins lumbering back up the aisle towards the driver. Alai, noting in the rearview mirror that Werewolf does not seem to be waving $5.00 in his hand, throws the jitney into a careening right hand turn. Simultaneously, the rear loading doors of the van fly open, as if by magic. Werewolf makes a wild grab as he goes past, but centrifugal force is just too strong to resist, and he is flung bodily out of the back of the van and rolls across the pavement before coming to a stop against a defunct lamp pole. The jitney, meanwhile, roars down the street half a block before pulling a bootlegger reverse and slamming to a stop, pointed back the way it came (and, not incidentally, causing the rear loading doors to slam shut). In the gathering gloom the headlights pin Werewolf in twin circles of light as Alai revs the engine in a menacing manner and hunches over the wheel.
"Deadbeat," Alai mutters to himself. "Stinking J-34503-1 left front ball joint fatigue - adjusting - adjusting - corrected deadbeat!"
"Christ," KK mumbles as he starts to look for some kind of seat belt. Not that he really expects to find one, but he feels that he ought to at least look for them before bracing himself, and most of all his nose, from any kind of imminent impact. Of COURSE there are no seat belts.
cover. look for cover. find cover. hope not to die. find cover. hope not to die. find cover. look for cover. hope not to die. Werewolf notes to himself that he should be looking for cover and try not to die.
Werewolf picks himself up off the curb and heads as far up onto the sidewalk (and behind as many parked cars) as possible, trying to put steel between himself and the jitney. Alai guns the engine a couple of times, then throws the jitney into gear, except this time in reverse!. The van leaps backwards until a twist of the wheel spins it 180 degrees and Alai drives off, leaving Werewolf alone in the gathering darkness.
Ben and KK see Werewolf frantically seeking cover as Alai revs the engine, but the jitney driver throws the van into reverse and backs away before spinning and driving off into the gathering darkness.
"Not worth denting the fender over," he comments offhandedly.
An uneventful fifteen minutes later the jitney pulls into the traffic circle in the Plaza of Flowers and comes to a halt in front of a rather popular looking nightclub bearing the unassuming name "Bar and Girl". The doors fly open and Alai says "Flowers!"
The bar has a large niche over the front door, in which sits a statue of Mary, visibly pregnant and weeping into her hands. Inside the place looks like a strip bar. It's rather smoky, and more than a bit crowded, with dim lighting, topless waitresses, and a large stage. However, instead of naked women prancing about to a disco beat, it appears that there will shortly be some sort of fight, as there is a man in wrestling trunks and another in a tee shirt and jeans talking with an announcer.
As the pair survey the bar, Ben just catches sight of none other than Ghishu heading into the Men's Room!
"Well, here we are," says Ben as he steps up to the entrance and begins to slowly scan the crowd. "A nice quiet place you can rest that nose of yours. A few beers and a lap dance and you'll be ready to take another crack at those priests."
"Another!?" KK gasps. No way he's fighting those guys again. "Uh... so this is how quiet it gets then," he continues to mumble and grumble while throwing glances at the kinds of people who frequent a place like this. Then he remembers the ancient rule of not mixing your medication with your alcohol. "I'll have to pass on those beers, you know. Got my medication right here," he says to Ben as he pats his coat pocket.
An attractive woman with dusky skin, dark eyes, and rather perfect breasts approaches the pair by the door.
"Can I get you something to drink?" she asks in a sultry voice
"Sure. I'll have some SHIAVIT orange soda," KK replies with a smile. His nose might be hurting, but he still hasn't lost the ability to appreciate a pair of perfect breasts.
"And I'll have a Black & Tan," adds Ben as he searches the room for an empty table, preferably one that will seat his back to a wall.
"One Black and Tan and a Shiavit orange coming up," replies the waitress.
Ben is able to find an empty table, but not one with his back to a wall (though he gets close).
* * *
Having survived once again a life-endangering situation, Werewolf decides to have a nigh-epileptic brain-seizure - or complete black-out as some prefer to call it - before standing up, dusting himself off as good as possible and checking his injuries. Seeing that he is quite a bit messed up, but not fatally wounded, it is clear to him what he should do now.
Werewolf [loud to himself]: "Time to go."
Werewolf [inside his head]: "You're such a freak! You can't do
anything right, can you?"
Werewolf [also inside his head]: "Hey, stop picking on him! He
has a hard time being a maniac as it is."
Werewolf [nowhere but inside his head]: "Dear, can't we find another
mind to live in? This one's scaring me."
To Be Continued...