Learn to Be a Family

It is a deep night. Frankenstein closes the laboratory door with satisfaction. He has done a great job tonight. It is time to go to bed. But before that... yes, one more necessary check, no less important than the tests he has been carrying out for the whole evening and half the night. He needs to check if his home folks are doing well. Frankenstein enters the lift and moves upstairs. The modified ones go first.

***

The door opens silently – Frankenstein is already a pro at silently opening doors – and the scientist comes to check on Tao. Of course, Frankenstein expects to see that he is still at the computer and is ready to scold him. Tao's regime is generally unsuitable. Too bad it has no settings. In Frankenstein's house, it is the first habit to get up early – if, of course, you cherish having breakfast before school. But obviously there are normally no people who would not value it. As for Frankenstein, he is used to sleeping very little: hundreds of years ago he realized how irrational it was to spend a third, or even a half, of the day on sleeping. Now he only needs a couple of hours a night. As for the modified ones, they can also go without sleep for a long time, but this does not mean that they should. Frankenstein insists that they follow the regime. And this is not only a matter of such a painful love for the accuracy and punctuality of Frankenstein. It is just that it really better than any weekly examinations can help the three young people recover from their modifications and exploitation – to call things their names – in the Union. M-21 and Takeo usually follow this particular instruction with pleasure, but it is difficult to find a common language with Tao on this issue. There is only one way to achieve his obedience: by removing the computer from Tao's room, but where is such a person (that is, a werewolf, a noble or a modified one) who would risk doing this? Contrary to expectations, Tao is already fast asleep, hugging a piece of his blanket. Frankenstein does not believe his eyes, but there is definitely not a hologram in the bed. Snoring peacefully, burying his nose in the blanket and hiding his eyes behind the black bangs, it is Tao himself. The leader of the RK, so organized (albeit somewhat free-swinging) in life and extremely clear-headed, looking and working like an adult, now he seems such a child. A child who has grown up too quickly. In his sleep, Tao seems small and defenseless, although Frankenstein cannot understand why he gives such an impression. Maybe because the small nightlight is left on in the room? I see… What he really sees is the room in a real mess. It would be better if Tao turned the nightlight off, because even the dim light is enough to illuminate the whole room. Frankenstein grins contentedly, having realized why Tao will still get beans, albeit in the morning. He has to ask Tao to remove all his ‘toys’. The whole room is littered with some spare parts from all kinds of old and new equipment. Frankenstein vaguely recognizes some of the items as equipment that he himself gave to the hacker. And some of them he sees for the first time. However, this is in Tao’s nature. He always spends all his money on various electronics. The floor is littered with all sorts of rubbish and filled with boxes. Something jaw-dropping is happening on the table – mainly due to the fact that several extension cords are freely located on it, from which chargers stick out in clusters. Only one item stands regally on the cleared part of the table – and it is a laptop, no doubt. It is not closed, and it flashes different lights and makes noise audible even from behind the door. This is what led Frankenstein astray. Moreover, even now he does not understand why the computer is so loud, as at first Tao always tinkers with the noise and only then with everything else. Something very complex is probably being installed on this computer right now, which is why the hacker went to bed; the computer cannot be used at the moment. Well, one more mystery is solved. Frankenstein quietly turns off the nightlight (one shouldn’t waste electricity, right?) and leaves the room. He grabs the handle of the next door.

***

He enters to check on Takeo. This is who an exemplary boy is. He has gone to bed on time, and the room is tidy. He is sleeping peacefully, the long strands of his loose hair unusually scattered across the pillow and across his face. The sniper is smiling barely noticeably to his sleep, and it is clear that his dreams are completely soft and undisturbed. In general, Takeo has the least amount of problems. This is not M-21, prone to scandals and games of survival, and not Tao with his love for crazy undertakings and domestic espionage. Takeo is always in sight, always ready to do any housework, so obedient, so well-mannered. True, he is taciturn, and still waters run deep... But still he is the easiest to handle, to put it like this. I should reward him somehow for his good behavior, Frankenstein decides. But how? He begins to wonder what may please Takeo. A vacation, probably. But Frankenstein is reluctant to give anyone a vacation, certainly not now. It is hectic time, model lessons are near at hand, security guards are needed every day in full force... Something small will do, some kind of a nice trinket... And then Frankenstein remembers that Takeo always ties his hair with a chain or cord. The sniper had this lanyard from the very beginning. Frankenstein noticed it right away and thought that it was probably not very convenient to tie one’s hair like that every time (not to mention the fact that Frankenstein marveled at how Takeo managed to fight with his extra-long hair). He probably has to buy some rubber bands, and that is enough to make Takeo happy. He probably just does not have anything else to tie his hair with... Frankenstein is not a professional in choosing rubber bands, but something tells him that no matter what he buys, the elastic bands will turn out to be girly. But he has to try. He glances quickly around the room and his eyes stop at the nightstand. There Frankenstein notices the very chain he has been thinking about. It is folded very neatly. Something flashes at the end of the cord. Frankenstein takes a closer look (he should have done it a long time ago) suddenly realizing that a small elegant cross is attached to the chain. In it looks it is exactly like the Master’s earrings, which serve as his seals. There is something to think about. Frankenstein's hand automatically reaches for the decoration. Take it with you and explore it quickly. You don’t know what this thing hides... And it’s not for nothing that Takeo wears it, almost never taking it off. I need to check! But Frankenstein stops himself. He ought not to do it. Even if it is very interesting. Even if it may be another seal of the Master, for some reason acquired by (now former) agent of the Union. This is still Takeo’s thing, and Takeo is here at home... Frankenstein has to ask him about this cross in the morning. Now wide awake, Frankenstein, in the incoherent multitude of his emotions, goes to M-21. It looks like he has left him until last on purpose.

***

Frankenstein notices he is beginning to act more cautiously than before. Without a single rustle, he steps on the fluffy carpet and gazes into face of the modified one. It is immediately clear that M-21, as usual, is having nightmares. His face is tense, he is biting his lower lip, and there is a wet mark on his cheek. Frankenstein stands and watches. Should he wake M-21 up? The man sighs convulsively and tosses and turns in his sleep, either clutching the base of the bed or simply sprawling on top of it. His blanket has been lying on the floor for a long time. Frankenstein turns to the nightstand and pours a full glass of water with his usual movement, and then wakes up M-21. He jumps up, half asleep, and falls head over heels to the floor. Without even thinking about getting up, he seems to take a defensive position, pressing himself against the bedbase. His dirty look is aimed at Frankenstein from under his tousled grayish bangs. It could have been worse... Don't you wake up the sleeping werewolf. The advice makes sense as M-21 could have transformed out of fright, but, fortunately, he was either too sleepy or, on the contrary, immediately realized who he was dealing with. “What business do you have being here?” the half-werewolf asks angrily and impolitely, but Frankenstein has not come here to argue. “I was just passing by,” he answers peacefully with a white-toothed smile and reaches into his pocket. From there, he takes out a small capsule of pills and gives one to M-21, while at the same time helping him up. “Take it,” he orders sternly. A sleepy M-21 drinks without complaint, his eyes opening in horror a second later. “What was that?” he asks quietly and doubtfully examines the remaining water in the glass. Frankenstein simply shrugs, looking with a smile at the patient’s mental turmoil. “It must have been something troublesome,” the werewolf says in shock: he felt the berry taste of the pill. After a spectacular pause, Frankenstein begins to explain that there is nothing dangerous in the pill, it is just a kind of a sedative. “Why do I need this?” M-21 mutters offendedly. “If I’m a werewolf, does that mean you have to feed me your worthless stuff? I won’t bite anyone at night... I seem to know how to control myself.” “It’s not that kind of sedative,” Frankenstein spoon-feeds in a teacher’s tone. “It’s just supposed to help you with your nightmares...” “I didn’t have any nightmares,” he lies unconvincingly, realizing this himself. “But I haven’t forgotten that strawberry taste yet... Frankenstein, my upcoming insanity and depletion of vital energy are on your conscience.” “Nothing bad has happened to you for the whole month, which means everything is fine with my medicine,” the scientist answers firmly. “What do you mean by a month?” His cold gray eyes narrow, but then they reflect his sudden understanding. “Yes, you have nightmares every night,” Frankenstein confirms. Indeed, Frankenstein discovered it long ago. Apparently, M-21’s psyche suffered significantly more than that of Tao or Takeo, or they knew how to block their unpleasant memories in their sleep. The same cannot be said about M-21. A month has passed since Frankenstein found some semblance of a solution to the problem. Not ideal either, but better than nothing. And so, every night he comes to the modified one to give him medicine, but in the morning M-21 no longer remembers anything. Every night there is an explanation. But he must give M-21 his dues, it is different every time... Once M-21 accused him that Frankenstein was deliberately drugging him with some kind of poison of his own invention, which, in addition to nightmares, also blocked M-21’s memory. In his logic, it was done because in the morning Frankenstein needed a werewolf up and running, and not the pushover that M-21 was at night... Frankenstein had to explain that it was not his fault that M-21 did not remember anything in the morning, at least it was not intended that way. And that was not a drug at all. Of course, Frankenstein needed a warrior to protect his family and school. But the only reason that prompted him to come into someone else’s room every night and forcefully feed M-21 medicine was his concern for the man’s recovery. Frankenstein could not stand more than one such conversation, but, fortunately, it was discussed only once. Very often, M-21, indifferent due to being half-asleep, drank a glass of water and went to bed, often smiled at own troubles or gave acrid remarks. Sometimes he pretended that he had swallowed a pill, but in fact hid it, so Frankenstein had to reason with him. But, in any case, he asked one and the same question: “Why does it have a strawberry flavor?” And there was always that frightened expression on his face. How much longer does Frankenstein have to explain to him that it was not done on purpose and now hoard of the strawberry-flavored pills is still big, and that strawberries haven’t killed anyone yet (including Dr. Iris, as it turns out), and that with such a filler the medicine just tastes better?.. This time M-21 did not fall asleep right away (probably the amount of water for drinking was not ideal). Or is there something else wrong that the troubsome werewolf won't admit? “Do you happen to have something like a headache remedy? Can you do something with it?” he finally asks Frankenstein, who is sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for M-21 to fall asleep. “The pain will go away on its own,” Frankenstein said for sure and for some reason patted the werewolf on the head. “Hey,” he immediately became indignant. “Stop it!” “But you wanted me to do something with your head,” Frankenstein responded calmly. “And you said it would go away on its own,” muttered M-21, but for some reason a smile touched his lips. At last, his unkempt hairstyle looks more decent, the scientist thought casting another glance at the werewolf; who has already fallen asleep and was sleeping peacefully, without any nightmares.

***

Sighing to some his thoughts, Frankenstein stood up and left the room. It remains to check on the most important patient... The scientist goes to the living room to, as usual, bring the Master another cup of tea, and then to go to sleep for a few hours. We need to get a new dinnerware set tomorrow, Frankenstein thinks, going downstairs. He will be pleased, maybe even the tea will taste unusual... But the Master is not in the living room. Strange. The report is on the table. An unfinished cup of tea is right there, too. What could possibly make the Master leave this cozy place where he can read all night long, and where no one and nothing bothers him? Judging that the Master is free to go wherever he wants, and there have been no signals of danger, Frankenstein goes to his room. His soul is restless though. He is used to making a round every night to make sure that everyone is fine and to calm himself seeing his Master reading peacefully in the living room. Very strange, Frankenstein decides while making the bed. The bed is designed to resemble one of the royal beds of the century before last, but it is made from the modern materials, with an ideal mattress, a luxurious canopy, and no creaking gilded legs... He lay down and tried to drive away the heap of thoughts from himself. Clean up the room, check the chain, finalize the pill, find out where the Master was, finish the reports, prepare a special breakfast... The thoughts are reluctant to go away, and Frankenstein is lying with his eyes open, thinking about this or that. A few minutes later, he sees with bewilderment a narrow strip of light appearing opposite the bed as the door opens. Then Raizel appears on the threshold. “Master?” “Frankenstein. Are you awake?” the Master seems a little surprised. “Yes,” Frankenstein immediately sits up and asks, “What is your pleasure, Master?” The Master stands silently, not taking his eyes off the scientist who is blinking in surprise. “Master, is everything okay?” Frankenstein asks worriedly. “Yes,” he answers, barely audible. “Good night.” It turns out that the Master, like Frankenstein himself, makes a round of the house every night, but today Frankenstein has been too late to fall asleep and therefore learned that he gets the visit over and over again as well.