Silence
Copyright 1998 by Kane

   Steven Blackpool leaned back in his leather-upholstered chair, a look of 
mock regret on his face.  "I'm so sorry we couldn't come to an agreement, Mr.
Owens," he said.

   "So am I," said Prospero.  "Good night."  He turned and left the office 
without a second glance at Blackpool.  He calmly walked to the elevator and 
pushed the button for the ground floor.  As the door closed and the elevator 
began to descend, Prospero let out a sigh that had been building up inside 
him ever since he entered the building.

   "Hhhhhhhaaaaaahhhhhhh..........."  Prospero slumped into the corner of the
elevator and tore off the tie he had forced himself to wear.  For a brief 
moment he considered hanging himself with it, but decided to simply throw it 
into the far corner of the elevator, where it lay in a heap.  He covered his 
face with his hands, and tried to remember the twisted turn of events that 
had brought him to this.

   The firs thing he remembered was the smiling face of Steven Blackpool as 
he held up the eviction notice in front of the tear-filled faces of his 
parents.  He remembered the smile on Blackpool's face when he told them the 
building now belonged to him, and that he was going to tear it down to build 
a new skyscraper.  For the last year he had been trying to find a job, but no
one wanted to hire someone like HIM.  "Sorcerers need not apply" signs hung 
everywhere he looked.  And when Hamatochi Security Inc. announced they were 
looking for magical talent to add to their security teams, he had jumped at 
the opportunity only to come face to face with -- surprise! -- Steven 
Blackpool.

   He didn't even remember is name.  He didn't know, or even care, what he 
had done.

   All in the name of "progress", of course.

   The elevator slowed to a stop, and the doors silently opened.  Prospero 
stood up, and ran through the crowded lobby to the street, leaving his tie 
behind.

   19th street was even more dismal than the building.  Massive towers of 
glass and steel blotted out the overcast and polluted sky above.  Beneath 
them, crushed into submission by the technological monoliths, people scurried
about like ants, desperately trying to make the next rent payment, or just to
survive to see another day.

   Prospero stuffed his hands in his pockets and started to walk swiftly down
the street.  He just wanted to go home, turn out the lights, and pray to 
every god he knew that his powers would go away.  As he passed by an alley, 
he heard a crash.  He shrugged it off, probably just someone being mugged, 
and he didn't feel like playing the hero right now.  He heard another crash. 
This time Prospero stopped and looked into the alley.  That sounded like 
metal on metal.

   Sure enough, the sound was metal on metal  There, in the alley, was one of
Hamatochi's SecureTech robots trying to get back on it's feet after being 
thrown into a pile of trash cans.  And above the robot stood a massive 
weretiger, his fur spotted with blood in a few places. The robot regained 
it's balance, and charged the weretiger again.  The tigerman's muzzle formed 
an angry snarl, and her raked his claws across the robot's face.  Bits of 
plasteel and wire spewed forth from the claw marks left on the robot's face, 
but it still stood, and gouged the tiger deeply in the stomach with it's 
steel talons.  The tigerman winced, but did not scream in pain, as Prospero 
had expected.  

   Prospero considered the situation.  The weretiger's strength was obviously
beginning to flag, thanks to the two tranquilizer darts he saw in his back.  
And the robot obviously didn't intend on keeping him alive after he fell.  
After a moment of speculation, Prospero sighed and pointed at the robot.  A 
brilliant bolt of lightning flew from his outstretched fingertips and 
connected with the back of the robot's head, which exploded in a burst of 
circuitry.

   The weretiger stood there, seemingly oblivious to the terrible injuries he
had sustained, and turned his gaze towards Prospero.  The tigerman began to 
pad towards the mage, but he fell to one knee after a few steps, his huge 
chest heaving.  The darts were beginning to take effect.  The tiger's yellow 
eyes rolled crazily in their sockets, and he slumped to the ground.

   Prospero just stood there for a moment, not really knowing what to do.  A 
small red trickle was beginning to seem out from underneath the body.  
Cautiously, he approached the tiger's inert form and rolled him over on to 
his back.

   He was indeed a weretiger.  Standing upright, he would be at least seven 
feet tall.  His body was covered it short orange striped fur, which faded 
into an off-white on his chest and stomach.  He wore the tattered remains of 
what was once a t-shirt, and a torn off pair of jeans.  He was exceptionally 
well built, but he was also exceptionally torn up.  He was also still alive, 
much to Prospero's surprise.  He could feel a tiny flutter of a pulse in the 
tiger's massive neck.  He had to do something.

   After a brief glance towards the street to make sure no one was watching, 
he muttered the words to a spell of invisibility.  He then picked up the 
tiger, and began to walk back to his apartment,staggering under the tiger's 
massive weight.

   The weretiger's eyes lazily opened.  He saw a cracked wooden ceiling that 
was badly in need of a fresh coat of paint.  He looked down at himself and 
saw that his wounds had been carefully bandaged, and that he was laying on an
old bed that sagged a bit in the middle.  The weretiger swiveled his gaze to 
the human who was sitting in a chair beside the bed, staring calmly at him.  
He wore a dress shirt without a tie, and a pair of black suit pants.

   "Glad you decided to live,"  said the human.  The tigerman's eyes narrowed
at him, and he showed his fangs.

   "Hey, now calm down," he said.  "I'm not one of those Hamatochi creeps.  
I'm your friend.  My name's Prospero.  What's yours?"  The tiger shook his 
head and pointed at his muzzle.

   "Oh, you can't talk."

   Nod.

   "Well...do you have a name?"

   Shake.

   "Hmm...that won't do at all.  How about 'Kahn'?"

   Shrug, followed by a sigh.

   "Ok, Kahn it is then.  So, how come you were attacked by a Hamatochi robo-
goon?"

   Kahn pointed at the faint outline of the Hamatochi tower through the dirty
window of the apartment, then made a slashing motion across his throat.

   "Oh, so they want you dead."

   Nod.

   "Any idea why?"

   Shrug.

   "Hmm...Does the name 'Steven Blackpool' mean anything to you?"

   Kahn bared his fangs in a snarl of hate and unsheathed his claws.

   "We seem to share a common enemy."

   Nod.

   They sat there motionless for a while, staring at each other.  A slow 
smile crept across Prospero's face.  "Hey, how would you like a chance to get
back at Blackpool?"

   Smile, and a vigorous nod.

   "I thought so.  I've got an idea."

   For the next few days, Kahn stayed in bed and healed while Prospero 
prepared the magical components he needed for his plan.  Through a series of 
gestures, Prospero learned about Kahn's history.  He had been abandoned at 
birth by his parents, and found by a small gang of shapeshifters who hung out
in the corner of the basement of the Hamatochi tower.  A few months ago, they
had been discovered, and they had all been executed with the exception of 
Kahn, who had escaped.  He had been on the streets ever since, dodging 
Hamatochi's robot hunters.  Prospero felt a pang of sympathy for the 
tigerman.  He was not the only one who had lost his family.

   Kahn told him that more than anything he wanted revenge against 
Hamatochi, especially Blackpool, who had ordered the execution of the 
shapeshifters.  "You will, if this plan works," Prospero told him.  "We'll 
teach him that he can't push the little guy around and expect to get away 
with it."  Kahn jumped from his seat on the bed and tackled Prospero to the 
floor in a bear hug, purring happily at his comment.  Prospero laid there, 
shocked for a moment, then returned the embrace.

   It was Friday night.  Prospero carefully drew a white chalk circle on the 
floor of his apartment around a photograph of himself and Kahn.  The tigerman
sat on the bed nearby, anxiously watching the sorcerer work his magic.  This 
was the last part of the ritual.  If he succeeded, then the attack would be 
on for the very next night.  Prospero placed a small, carefully polished 
stone in the center of the circle on top of the photograph, checked the 
diagrams one last time, and he began to chant.

   At first nothing happened.  Then a tiny flicker of light appeared from 
deep inside the stone.  Another spark appeared, and then another.  Prospero 
continued to chant, his forehead shiny with sweat.  Soon the entire stone was
glowing.  It quickly dwarfed the low-wattage bulbs that normally illuminated 
the apartment, shining brighter and brighter until is was like a small sun.

   The light suddenly vanished, like someone had just turned off a light 
switch.  Prospero collapsed, drenched in sweat, but the spell had worked.  
The photograph was gone.  The mage tried to stand up, but the ritual had 
drained him to the very core, and it was too much of an effort.  The world 
began to spin around him.

   He then felt a pair of strong arms lifting him up and depositing him in 
the bed.  Prospero looked up and saw Kahn's furry face, smiling down at him. 
"No, I'm all right..." Prospero said as he tried to get up, but a huge paw on
his shoulder forbade him any further movement.  He sighed, and let his head 
sink down into the pillow.  The sheets felt different than he remembered.  
They felt almost...fuzzy.

   "Kahn, are you shedding?"

   Kahn rolled his eyes and tried to look as innocent as possible.

   Nick Valentin had long ago decided that guard duty was boring.  Tonight it
had crossed the line from just plain, run-of-the-mill boredom into complete 
and utter ennui.  No one would dream of attacking the Hamatochi tower, so why
was he even here?  Oh yeah, that's right.  He had bills to pay, and a wife 
and kids to feed.

   A young girl walked by him.  She was wearing a tight, black leather outfit
and bright red lipstick.  Her top was cut very low, leaving little to the 
imagination.  "Hi," she purred at him.  "Working hard or hardly working?"

   Valentin's face flushed bright red.  "Um...can I help you, miss?"

   She smiled at him, and whispered something into his ear.  Valentin flushed
even deeper.  He looked around to make sure no one was watching, then he 
escorted the young lady to a small mail room in the back of the building.

   Five minutes later Prospero emerged from the mail room, along with a man 
who looked a great deal like the security guard who had just entered the 
room.  Prospero shuddered briefly, and began to walk towards the elevator 
along with the security guard.  They entered the elevator together, but only 
the guard stepped out at the 50th floor and into Blackpool's office.

   Blackpool looked more than a bit surprised at his sudden disturbance.  
"What do you want?" he asked impatiently.

   "I have a message for you," said the guard.  Blackpool noticed that his 
mouth did not seem to move in sync with the words he spoke.  And his voice 
sounded familiar...

   Blackpool had no more time for speculation.  The guard suddenly 
transformed into a huge weretiger before his eyes.  Blackpool had just enough
time to hit the alarm button under his desk before the beast sprang at him.  
Prospero dropped his invisibility spell just as he saw four guards armed with
machine guns enter the office and start firing at him and Kahn.  His hand 
flashed inside his jacket and he drew a small vial, which he threw at the 
guards.  Clouds off smoke billowed forth, adding greatly to the confusion.  
The guards continued to fire blindly.  Bullets whizzed by Prospero's ear.  It
was time to leave this party.  Now for the tricky part.

   Prospero darted around the office and picked up Kahn, where he lay on top 
of Blackpool.  Prospero got one glimpse of Blackpool with his throat torn out
before he dove through the plate glass window of the office with Kahn in tow.
Prospero took the small, polished stone from his pocket, threw it at the
street below, and began to chant frantically.

   Prospero and Kahn landed on the roof of a skyscraper across the street.  
The mage breathed a sigh of relief.  The teleport spell had worked.  He 
looked over at Kahn and sucked the sigh back in.

   Kahn's body lay riddled with a dozen bullets or more.  His tawny fur was 
stained bright red.  His breathing was shallow and tortured.  There was no 
way he would survive.  Prospero knelt over him and squeezed his paw.  "Oh, 
Kahn,  I'm sorry..."

   Kahn raised his head and pointed at the tower across the street.  He 
winked at Prospero, sank his head back, and died in silence as he had when he 
was born.  Such was the price of revenge.  Prospero collapsed onto the furry 
chest and began to cry. On the street below, a crowd had gathered around the 
corpses of the mage and the weretiger in front of the Hamatochi building.