[story start]
I knocked on the door, and it swung open silently.
The room was dark except for the blue light of the monitors. Rows of computer equipment in racks, the whirring of forty quiet fans, the whine of seven monitors at various heights.
Other than that and the irregular rattle of a keyboard, it was silent. I followed the sound of the typing fingers to the back corner of the server room, where I found the typist, the person I'd come looking for. She was a gargoyle, a data junkie. Her glasses reflected the monitors before her and the blink of the heads-up display in the frames, her headphones surrounding her brain with whatever noises came through her computer. The muscles of her throat worked and I knew she was subvocalising something.
It looked like she was working on two or three things at once, as well as looking at a couple of entertainment feeds and looking for information on something else. Gargoyles are a very special breed, able to pay equal attention to fifty things at once or focus down their attention to the absolute. They all start young, practically in the cradle. And they all seem to know what they're going to be when they're born. There's a common look in their eyes, a spooky, distracted look, a hunger for more information about everything.
Sponges, all of them. I'd known Trish since we were both eight and she'd always been like that, even before they let her have her own computer.
I thumbed the pad mounted on one of the machine racks. Her concentration broke and I could see her posture tense as she came up from whatever trance she's in, whatever place she's been in, as my signal reaches her and lets her know that my world requires her attention.
Off came the headphones, the heads-up display muted. "Arin. Hi. What?"
I raised the bag in my hand. "Food." In my other hand, I have a disc, which I also proffer. "And a proposal."
"All right. You can stay. What did you bring?"
"Burgers and poppers and a hot fudge milkshake for my little lactose addict. Let's get out of here and get you some fresh air."
"Oh, all right." She thumbs a control and her chair lets go of her. "Did you see Delia when you came in?"
"Nope, was I supposed to?"
"I think she's been gone for—what day is it?"
"Thursday."
"Three days, then. I think she might have walked out on me."
This said with a wry twist of her mouth. Trish was used to women walking out on her, and she claimed it doesn't bother her much these days. Most of her relationships die out of sheer neglect. I thought it bothered her a lot more than she lets on, but I wasn't about to probe very far. I had a feeling that the emotional life of gargoyles is a lot weirder than anything I was willing to deal with on a regular basis.
"Maybe she got bored and wandered off?" In the kitchen, I picked up a note on the counter. "You want this?"
She dropped into a chair and dug into the bag of food. "Read it to me."
"Trish, I'm off to Hawaii for some sun. I'll bring you back some nuts. Love you. P.S., your write and execute privileges are suspended until you do something for our anniversary."
"Mmmm. Shit. Knew I forgot something. She'll forgive me, though. She generally does." Trish mumbled this from around a mouthful of food. "she went to Hawaii, huh? It's probably sunny there this time of year. Or something."
"Anyway. Pop this into your terminal and take a look at it for me, okay?"
She slid the disc into the kitchen terminal, which slurped it up with a whir. On the screen, a film started playing. A small child was being interviewed, little girl telling the interviewer about the people who came into her head when she slept. It cut to a little boy telling about how he sometimes dreamed about men at tables, talking. At the bottom of the screen, as the children talked, was a moving list of the positively-identified people in their dreams, and the correlations with those people's activities.
"Mmm. Yeah. Clairvoyant kids. So?"
"Wait."
Another little girl was talking. She had the gargoyle look in her eyes and she fluttered and fidgeted in her chair. She chattered aimlessly, her hands fluttering and stilling. She wasn't making a lot of sense. Suddenly, she looked directly into the interviewer's eyes, and started telling the interviewer that her husband still loved her, but she should go home RIGHT NOW. When asked why, she reverted to mumbling and fluttering.
"Hey, that's Malik's kid, isn't it?"
"Yup. Keep watching."
Thirty children in all, all of them children of gargoyles. All of them afflicted with various forms of psi abilities. All of them between five and seven years old.
"Okay, Arin, that's really weird. But why bring it to me?"
"I'm working on it with my people. But we need someone in the research end, someone who can find the shit we need to figure out what's going on."
"In other words, the greenies wouldn't know what to do with the data to save their souls."
"Basically. The compensation's decent, and the bonuses if we find anything are...lucrative."
"Well, hell. I have some spare time. Sure. Where do I start?"
I handed her a box of discs. "Here's what we have."
"Okay. I'll be in touch."
I touched my palm to hers and left. I've learned over the years not to push her once I've handed her a new problem. She'd do it right away or in two weeks, but whenever she did it the work would be utterly first-rate. I was banking my reputation and the future of a bunch of kids on her finding data to back up what we knew already but couldn't prove.
She gave me a bracelet the day before yesterday.It's silver, a very lightweight chain.
And it has a latch instead of a lock.
I like this, a lot.
It's been a good few days. I can tell I'm going to be utterly exhausted by the end of it (like I wasn't before?), but I'm having fun anyway. We went to Crossroads last night and hung out with the local poly group; it's still surprising to see how many people I know these days. I've come a long way from the days of isolation. I couldn't disappear now even if I tried.Which, frankly, is a good feeling and a scary one all at once. I sort of liked being able to disappear, close up shop and go, whenever I felt like it.
But on the other hand, it feels safe to have this web of support, all these people I know I can turn to.
enough. Time to go home and go grocery shopping!
is it any wonder we find ourselves laughing
with your tongue at my lips and my hands in your hair
I don't need a reason to savor the Mystery
all we need to do is open up one eye
I don't need a savior to keep me from tumbling
I'll only kneel for my lover's delight
I don't need a church man to show me what's holy
when I see you in the doorway surrounded in light
I don't need a guidebook to paint out my story
I don't need a road map to find my way back home
...
I don't need answers to each of my questions
when the nape of your neck just won't let me behave...—"Just Because", Gaia Consort
Best reason to listen to Gaia Consort:
Because Chris and Sue are just the coolest, and they're RL friends of mine!
how goes the war?
Finished building fortifications.
