#akephaloi

headless & dog-headed people

miniature from a historienbibel, alsace, 1422

Garden Akephaloi

In my living room, my only furniture consists of a bookshelf in the far left corner, an armchair next to the window, a coffee table, and a couch facing a moderately sized TV. I turn on the news for a while ; The AbsoMab energy company's hit by a lot of earthquakes recently, and the Raijù Liberation Front succeeded in breaking and entering in a electricity factory last night.

When the doorbell rings some time later, I'm busy trying to tie a microscopic belt around the fairy's waist, and Winedrop, back on her perch above my head, sounds asleep.

“Come in !” I say, because I'm almost done with the knot. The door opens on Marcelle, the only woman of the service Kasira talks to on equal terms. She steps into the living room, and stands there, waiting for something maybe.

“Hi,” I say without looking away from my task. It takes me a few more seconds to make an acceptable knot.

“Good morning, Eli.” She sounds irritated, but when I finally look at her, she looks like her usual ; relaxed military stance, which she achieves flawlessly despite a pair of high heels that would make any crane wobble on their legs, and a belly the size of a planet. “So. You finally decided to adopt some victims ?”

“I don't know why you say that,” I shrug. The shadow of a smile passes and goes on her face, and her brown ponytail swipes from right to left as she sighs.

“C'mon, what does a lady have to do around here to get a chair ?” Humans sure enjoy their sarcasm. I don't try to outwit her ; I'm not in her category. Instead I slide to the left on my sofa to give her some space. She slumps heavily, a hand on her stomach. “Alright, tell me about those two,” She says when she's finally settled. Pregnant people aren't known for their patience, but she knows my talking pace.

“Dewdrop wanted to stay with me because I speak faëry tongue.” At the mention of his name, the fairy perks up and looks at me curiously. “He says no other giant does,” I tell the woman. She's looking at the small man on the table, whose new poncho he's not accustomed to. Another reminder of his captivity.

“Yes ?” Marcelle brings back my attention to the matter at hand. “What about the phoenix ?”

“They share a strong bond, I thought better than to separate them. Dewdrop named her Winedrop.” Marcelle's attention sets on the bird, and when the fairy speaks, she whips her head around in surprise.

“Why Dewdrop not understand Eli ?” He asks, confused and a bit angry.

“Eli talk giant speak with human,” I reassure him, “name of human is Marcelle.”

“Eli talk faëry speak now ?” his clear eyebrows raise in anguish. He looks ready to cry and his light dims a little. Is it not understanding that makes him so emotional, or just this language, that he probably assossiates with his jailers ?

“Marcelle not talk faëry speak,” I tell him soflty, “Dewdrop okay if Eli talk something else ?” He doesn't look too sure, but I need to ask Marcelle something : “Speak any other language ?” I say as fast as I can. Which is not very fast. She looks at me puzzled, but indulges my strange request.

“Sure ?” she says in her native language.

“Ok, I think he's scared of the common tongue,” I tell her in Gallic human.

“Oh.” I turn back towards Dewdrop, who's retracted a bit under his poncho.

“Human tongue better ?” I ask him. He doesn't speak ; He'd probably cry if he did. But he nods the faintest nods, and points at Winedrop which doesn't sound too happy with the newcomer's presence. I give Dewdrop my hand, and carry him to his friend.

“Looks like they like you,” Marcelle observes with a sweetness she rarely displays. “But you can't take in every stray puppy, you know ?” And her usual self is back. Her last comment makes me frown and realise something.

“And why not, after all ?” I say, resolutely looking anywhere but in her direction. “I know every one of their needs. I can teach the phoenix the tongue of her people so she can live a good life when she's ready.” I half expected her to interrupt me at some point, but she doesn't say anything, and I'm not about to peer at her. So I keep going. “The fairy can't go back to his people, they've torn his left wings,” I snap. I breath in to calm down.

“So,” she starts, “you're actually considering becoming a foster home ?” I frown and finally turn to her. She's got a raised eyebrow and waits for my answer. I shrug, because I don't know what to say. “Technically, you're allowed, because you're not strictly working in the department. See where I'm going with that ?” I nod, because I don't want to waste time speaking. “I've got the paperwork ready right there,” she points at her tablet. But before I start anything, there's someones' approval I need.

“Want Eli home to be Dewdrop and Winedrop home ?”

“So... stay here ?” He sounds skeptic.

“Yes.” There's a pause. Have I misjudged ? Maybe they don't like it here ?

“Eat honey and blueberries and fire everyday ?” Now he sounds interested. I laugh before I can answer.

“Yes, and many more fruits.” I feel both my passengers jump up and down and tug at my branches.

“Yes ! Yes ! Yes !” the fairy chants cheerfully, accompagnied by Winedrop's chirping. Marcelle looks positively beaming, watching my new room mates above me.

“Where are those papers ?” I ask her.

I go to work with Marcelle as my chauffeure. At the station, we bid farewell to each other, and I head down to my office. In most other police stations, there are swarms of part-time interpreters, but here, because of me, there's only a handful. The others are here when I'm not or when there's an unusual number of cases.

I'm not bragging by saying that. The thing is, I speak every language. And I mean, every one of them. From tree people and fairies who can't speak anything but their tongue,  to spirits and elementals who speak only with their minds. Some of my colleagues call me a cheat ; I can hardly be held responsible, I was born like that.

In the office I work in, there are eleven other desks beside mine, and most of them are empty right now. A reunion maybe ? When I get to my desk, I open the few new files that appeared on my desk since yesterday. Maybe the boss won't notice that I'm late. Apparently, I can forget it, because as soon as I sit down, Aua comes to see me.

“Hey, you're late, everyone's waiting for you in room five.” She sounds unconcerned, but her arms crossed in front of her mouth tell me there's reasons to be concerned. Shyte. So much for discretion.

“Why ?” I ask as we head for the interrogation room together.

“Have you seen the news this morning ?”

“Yes.” She struggles to keep up with my pace, so I slow down a bit.

“We've inherited the RLF's leader.” She doesn't have time to say more. I open up room five's door with questions that'll soon be answered, so I don't sweat it too much. Aua, without a word, heads for her tiny desk in the corner of the interrogation room. In the three other corners, there are heavily armed and armored guards. They don't move a muscle. Seated at the table taking pretty much all the remaining space, two people ; First and foremost, my boss. Double shyte. She only conducts important interrogations.

“Take your seat.” Her growling voice doesn't let her anger show. So our guest is that important. As I sit down, I hear Aua's typewriting cadence. The interrogation has already begun.

In front of me, the RLF's leader apparently. She isn't shackled to her wrists, but rather, I had noticed before taking my seat, to her front paws. Her wings are spread in a smug attempt at intimidation. I don't speak before the boss explains the situation, even if I have an idea of what's going on.

“Lady Semet here is the Leader of the Raijù Liberation Front. According to her underlings, she's the only one making decisions and who knows their plans. Unfortunaltely,” captain Tuyok's sardonic tone tells me she's holding in a smile, “Lady Semet only speaks ancient north sphynxic.” She lets that last information sink in, much to her amusement ; Lady Semet's reaction tells us she at least understands us. And she doesn't know me. “The big house, in their wisdom, decided to bring her to us, or should I say, to you.” I could almost taste her excitement. But again, she doesn't show anything when I take a glance towards her. Except for the flash of a canine maybe.

“Yes. Of course.” I say. There's a hint of doubt on Semet's perfect, amber face.

“So, first question we'll be asking Lady Semet ; full identity, place of residence, and exact position inside the RLF.” The golden lady starts to speak. Her voice chimes like a giant bell.

“First, I am Aurauäakarusäank Semet, second, I am the leader of the Raijù liberation front.Third, I live in Moonrun. And fourth, you're ugly.” Uh. People will say anything when they think no one can understand them. She's in for a big shock.

“Now now.” I start slow. Let's see her expression crumble a  bit. “Disrespecting a police officer ?” Her bronze gaze turns to me veeery slowly. Yep, that's shock alright. She opens her mouth, but I start to translate her words for the benefit of the audience. And I suspect it's not only in this room, but behind the one-way mirror as well. I wonder how many big guns there are back there. I speak as slow as ever, for captain Tuyok's enjoyment.

“You...” Semet's voice is trembling now.

“I.” The gold of her face turns crimson from either embarrassment or rage, I can't tell.

“I'm ready to overlook your insult towards a police captain,” the boss exults. “Last night you led your terrorist group and broke into a Raijù electric centrale, destroyed city property including electrical condensers and a cable tower among many things, effectively depriving Flatmore's upper district of electricity. You then made your way to one of the Raijùs' enclosure. You were stopped by guards and then taken into custody by the central police. My question is, what were your full intentions that night ?” The sphynx is seething now. She lets a growl escape her, before closing her eyes.

“Do you know how they live ?” I translate as she speaks. Despite my being slow, we finish at the same time ; Sphynx languages are made of convoluted enigmas and poetic turns of sentences. In short, it's long.

“Who ?” my boss asks.

“The Raijùs. They're stuffed by the dozen in cages barely big enough for three. They're force-fed cheap food that makes them sick, and then gorged of medicine and chemicals to make them produce more electricity. When one dies, the body's left to the others to be cannibalized. They live and die in their own filth, never see the light of day, and nobody's saying anything about it.”

When we're done speaking, silence falls in the room. Captain Tuyok has laid back in her chair. She's solemnly looking down at her file. I cross Aua's distraught glance, and purse my lips in solidarity. The captain lets a long sigh out, and leans forward again.

“That was hardly my question.” But she doesn't sound as joyful anymore. Semet's back to her full arrogant posture now.

“We wanted to video tape them, to show everyone and instigate a response from the public opinion.” The captain doesn't respond right away.

“Did you succeed ?” she says, barely audibly. Semet frowns at the question before nodding. “Then we'll have to confiscate the footage. That centrale is private property.”

“What will happen to it ?” She asks with a growl.

“Their lawyers will dispose of it as they see fit. Except if your lawyer demands a copy for your defense in court...”

“That's exactly what he's going to do.” As soon as she finishes her sentence, the door slams open, and enter three costumed, briefcase wielders lawyers. They don't look too happy.

“You have no right over that illegally acquired footage,” the tallest one says. His black hair is perfectly combed sideways, and he exudes confidence and animosity. “Our client is the sole proprietor of it.”

“You mean to say,” the captain answers, “that you refuse to this person proper representation and defense ?” She turns to Lady Semet. “What do you have to say about that ?” The sphynx seems to pick up on the captain's diatribe.

“I won't say anything more until my lawyer's present.” So that settles it for now.

Only two guards remain with lady Semet in the room. The third posts themself outside of the door. Under the helmet, the black, smoky silhouet doesn't show any form of reaction, but I catch the faintest movement in my direction. But I couldn't tell for the life of me if they're looking at me or even in my general direction.

“I hear you've led to the arrestation of a bunch of child traffickers last night.” the boss says as we head toward my desk. “Nice job.”

“Thank you.”

“So ? What did you decide with Marcelle ?” Oh good, she's dismissing my being late.

“I'll foster them.” She doesn't say anything until we've reached my desk. There, she looks at me with what I can only describe with a considerate expression.

“Good. What's their state ?” As I describe their mental and physical state, her features harden and the skin of her pointy snout wrinkles and lets her sharp teeth show for a second.

“Those five assholes are going down.” she growls more than she speaks. But she softens up again. “We'll give your protégés as much time as we can before we make them testify.”

“Good.” I simply say.

three blemmyes taking a bath

in the 'codex granatensis', germany, ca. 1440

blemmye (headless guy) and friends

from konrad von megenberg's "buch der natur", german illustrated manuscript, ca. 1442-1448