"I can't sleep," said Abby in frustration.
She was staring at the ceiling on a cot in Jaya's storage room. Dane lay on another cot at the other end of the room. Old Abby would have found this arrangement awkward, but New Abby found this acceptable since nobody was trying to kill her in this room and she was far beyond tired. The room wasn't completely dark due to a faint light that spilled under the door. Jaya's garage was never fully dark, as some automatic processes ran overnight.
"Hrmmm?" said Dane in response to her non sequitor. He was already tangled up in his sheets, but still somewhat awake. That wouldn't last long. A lifetime of adventure had trained him to get sleep wherever he could. Insomnia was no match for a life of danger.
"It's been a long and draining day, and I know I'm tired," said Abby. "But I can't sleep."
"Why not?" said Dane.
"Still wound up, I guess. I'm completely exhausted, but my mind keeps going. I haven't processed it all - how could I? There's a lingering part of my mind that expects this place to blow up or someone will show up and try to kill me."
"We're completely safe here," said Dane. "I trust Jaya completely and this place is very secure."
"I'm not saying we're not," said Abby. "But my ideas of safety are really messed up right now. Buildings don't seem so solid and safe anymore."
"It's fine, that sort of thing is rare," said Dane. "Just relax and let your mind settle. You really are safe."
"I also miss my cat, Precious," said Abby. "I know it's a silly thing to worry about, but I do. I feel responsible for her. And I keep imagining her walking around my apartment right now, meowing ever minute or so, just wondering where I am and where her dinner is."
"Is she going to starve?"
"Not if I'm gone one night, no," said Abby. "She has dry food in her dish, but no fresh foods. She loves fresh foods." She paused. "I realize I'm probably just a little homesick. One night away from home and I get homesick. Funny, right? Like I can't survive without creature comforts."
"Creature comforts are nice," said Dane. "But I'm used to being away from them sometimes. It's new for you. I wouldn't stress about it."
"I know, I know. I just can't keep my mind from going round and round. It must be the long day and attempts on our lives."
"Must be."
"Do you have any pets?" Abby asked.
"I also have a cat... sort of."
"Sort of? How do you sort of have a cat?"
"My cat, Houdini, will be my cat at some point," said Dane. "It's one of those time paradox things. Houdini is somehow unstuck in space and time. I don't know how. But somehow he has the power to go to any moment of time at will. But, he's not like super intelligent or anything. He's just a normal cat. So he just shows up at the apartment whenever he wants. Then he disappears for long periods of time. I've seen him in his winter coat, summer coat, a little older than a kitten, as an adult, limping from a bandaged leg - all within a week. It's crazy."
"Of course Dane Monday doesn't have a normal cat," said Abby. "How do you even know all this? It doesn't seem like the time travelling cat thing would be obvious - at least for normal people. How do you know how it all works? How do you even know he's your cat?"
"I actually have an answer for that! The first time I ever saw Houdini, he was just laying on the couch licking himself like he owned the place. Stranger things have happened to me, but if I was going to share my couch I wanted to know why. There's a little locket with a folded note always attached to Houdini's collar. It's in my handwriting and it explained he's my cat that I adopted and how Houdini doesn't respect the normal rules of spacetime. Houdini seemed to know me, so I put the note back in the locket and just went with it."
"Just like that? You just went with it."
"I mean, what do I really know? Future Dane seemed okay with it, so I guess I was destined to become a cat owner. Houdini's not around all the time, just sometimes. But that does mean I need to keep food out and the litterbox clean all the time. So I guess that's a pain."
"You're the only person I know who could take a normal conversation about pets and turn it into a scifi story," said Abby.
"That's my life," said Dane. "Often exciting, likely dangerous, and vastly weird."
"You actually sound like you're boasting," she said.
"If you can't control the direction your life takes, you might as well own it, right?" said Dane, turning over in his cot. "Now let's get some sleep. I'm sure that someone's going to try to kill us in the morning."
Abby's sleep wasn't as restful as she hoped. She slept better than expected for a cot in an unfamiliar storage room, but her dreams were haunted by homicidal robots, men handing her shovels, and running out of breath in an impossibly tight car trunk. She woke tangled up in her sheets, the dim room brighter from more light spilling in under the door. The air was thick with the smell of coffee. Not a tantalizing odor like someone had made a single cup; it was an all-pervading odor like they were in the lair of a mad barista.
Pulling herself out of the cot, Abby blinked her eyes in pursuit of wakefulness as she walked out of the storage room into the brighter lit garage. Following the smell, she found Jaya's kitchen.
"This is awesome!" said Dane gleefully.
The kitchen in Jaya's garage was much like a normal office breakroom kitchen, just filled to the brim with machines and gadgets that were blinking with a variety of colors and lighting up LED displays. Abby had noted last night that everything looked vaguely like kitchen appliances that she knew, only transformed into technological monstrosities.
"What is awesome?" said Abby sleepily.
"Jaya has a little robot that makes coffee!" said Dane. "Just a wee little robot, and all it does is make coffee!"
"It also makes hot chocolate and espresso," said Jaya in a voice less than thrilled with Dane's excitement. She had also just shown up in the kitchen. "Tea I do manually because it's my preference. I only use a self-serving kettle for guests."
"But look at that robot go!" said Dane, pointing to something that looked like a coffee machine with legs. It waddled back and forth grabbing sugar and milk. Abby wondered if there was any reason for it to need to walk, other than the novelty. Then again, she realized that in this new world of weirdness she had entered the coffee maker robot probably had offensive laser capacity.
"Dane, you've already made three cups of coffee, you don't need to make any more coffee," said Jaya, pointing to three mugs of coffee on the table. They were sitting next to a plate of bagels that Jaya has put out for her two guests.
"No, these are mine!" said Dane possessively, making a shield around the three mugs with his arms.
"Dane, don't waste my coffee, three cups are plenty for us." Jaya's voice had taken on the tone of an adult talking to a child.
"For you? These are mine!" said Dane.
"Dane, you're not going to drink three cups of coffee on your own," said Jaya.
In defiance, Dane picked up one mug and then drank the entire contents in the next few seconds. For his sake, Abby hoped that this mug was the first made and coolest of the bunch. Unphased, Dane grabbed a second mug and began drinking, this time more slowly, though it was clear he wished he could drink it faster.
Jaya rolled her eyes and sighed, turning to Abby. "He's with you for the rest of the day. It's really your problem if he's three cups deep into coffee." Jaya walked off.
"Dane, maybe you want to pace yourself on your coffee," said Abby.
Dane said nothing as he was trying to finish the second cup, but he was finding drinking the whole second cup was a little uncomfortable after he shotgunned the whole first cup. In a few moments, he finally finished, then forcefully put the cup down on the table. He was sweating and breathing heavily.
"Dane, are you okay?" said Abby.
Dane was still breathing quite heavily as he looked to the third cup of coffee. There was something like apprehension in his look, mixed in with the possessiveness.
"I think I'm going to p
ut this one in my travel mug," said Dane. "But don't tell Jaya! She must not know!"
"Umm, sure," said Abby. "I think I'll just make a cup of tea and grab a bagel before we go."
History lesson
"Alastair's got a lead on the statue for us!" said Dane, as they left Jaya's garage, his blood flush with caffeine.
"So we're heading up that way?" said Abby.
"No, we're stopping somewhere else first! I want some answers about Carmichael. We're hitting the University! Learning is fun!"
They made the walk from Riverside over to University Heights. Morning traffic was in full swing, so they just blended into the rush of pedestrians. University Heights was not particularly close since it bordered Midtown, but it was a reasonable walk, even if it was uphill at the end. Neither of them brought up the idea of a cab. Though the jammer was off and theoretically Honnenheim's death cabs would not be able to find them, it still didn't feel like a comfortable idea. Dane was also high on caffeine, so he was even more excited than ever to walk. On a few blocks Abby had to struggle to catch up with his pace.
"Dane, when can we go home?" asked Abby.
"Can't go home, people trying to kill us!" said Dane without a hint of fear or annoyance of that fact.
"Yes, but when? I do want to go home sometime."
"When we're done with this case and the people trying to kill us are thwarted!"
"You use thwarted like it's a word normal people use in regular conversation," she said. "Seriously, Dane. I understood that last night we were hiding out, but how long until I can actually go home?"
Dane paused in his walk and turned to her. "I know this is new. And I know you are far outside your comfort zone. And it was not my intention to put you in this much danger. But at this point I can't control whether we can go home. We can just see this through until the end! Good always wins, Abby! And after that we can go home!" He spun around and began marching with confident vigor.
"But what if Good doesn't win?" called Abby to Dane's back.
"Good always wins!" repeated Dane, not pausing in his walk.
"But what if it doesn't?" she called again, before sighing with exasperation. She ran to catch up with him.
She did not hear what Dane said under his breath, not intended for anyone but himself. "If it doesn't, that means that they finally killed me."
Walking onto Avalon U's campus was a strange experience for Abby. It wasn't so long ago that she had been a student there. When she graduated, she expected it to be a long time before she returned to it. She was fond of the school, but it had been time to close this chapter of her life and move onto the next. New Abby wasn't sure if she liked the feeling of déjà vu. This was Old Abby territory.
Dane didn't wander. His caffeine-filled brain knew exactly where he was going, which meant he needed to be there now. He marched along campus, ignoring the looks of the few students who noticed him charging across the grass. He found the building he needed, breezed through the doors, and climbed the stairs.
Catching up to him on the stairs, a breathless Abby said, "Did you know I went to Avalon U? I just recently graduated! I loved it. But I'll admit I don't know this building."
"The fourth floor holds the History offices," said Dane. "I have no idea what else is in this building or what classes are here. I just know this is where Linda's office is."
Dane turned and went through the fourth floor door, practically slamming it open. He took a quick right. He knew the way without looking at signs, which was probably to their benefit, as most of the signs on the floor were covered up with flyers for school events and clubs. Around a few turns and ignoring strange looks from grad students, Dane knocked and then opened a door without waiting for a response.
They walked into a cramped office. It was big as far as university faculty offices were concerned but rather small by any other standards. This room was filled with a desk and some file cabinets. Much of the walls, desk, and file cabinet surface was covered with papers, maps, and large folio-style books.
"Linda! How are you?" said Dane enthusiastically.
A blonde woman looked up from her desk, practically behind a fort of research materials. She was maybe in her late thirties, pretty, but dressed as conservatively as expected for a college professor. At first she looked happy to see Dane but then her face fell a little as she looked over to Abby.
"Dane, what a pleasant surprise." Then she snapped her fingers in realization. "Yesterday was you, wasn't it? Avalon's Hope," she said with a frown.
"Your friends know you very well," said Abby.
"Linda, this is Abby," said Dane. "She's following me around for a while."
"Ah, your new wayward puppy," said Linda.
"She's a journalist," said Dane. "She wants to get the real story of what's going on."
"I'm right here, you know," said Abby.
"Good luck with the Dane Monday story," said Linda. "I tried for many years. No luck."
"You're a journalist?" said Abby, looking around at the room with a raised eyebrow.
"Historian," said Linda. "But there's enough overlap. It's a story we'd both kill to tell. And it's a story nobody's going to believe. Trust me on that."
"We didn't come to discuss that, though," said Dane, trying to steer the conversation away. "We actually needed some research! Or rather, whatever you know off the top of our head, since we need to head over to Alastair's soon!"
"Now I'm intrigued," said Linda. "A case where both my expertise and Alastair's is needed. Magic, almost definitely. Something old, then? You know my expertise is more local. I can't tell you much about ancient history or mummies."
"Nope, no mummies, but I'm still waiting on that case!" said Dane. To Abby: "I haven't done a mummy case yet. But I know that's going to happen at some point! An animated mummy that has come back from their tomb! I am so ready for that one!"
"He's been wanting that for years," said Linda with a smile. "Even the fact that there's nothing Egyptian around here doesn't dissuade him." Then she picked up a big folio, which appeared to be filled with old black and white photographs and handwriting, moving it to the side. She pushed around a few other books and clip boards, trying to locate her keyboard so she can search for anything Dane might mention. During this reorganization, she revealed her desk's nameplate: PROF LINDA GRAYSON.
"Wait, Linda Grayson," said Abby. "The Linda Grayson? Author of A Town Called New Avalon? That Linda Grayson?"
"You've heard of her?" asked Dane, as Linda smiled sheepishly behind him.
"Of course I've heard of her!" said Abby. "She's the preeminent source on the history of this city. She's come up with insights no other historian has. She was dubbed Avalon's Historian by The Avalon Times in their yearend awards a few years ago."
"I've always thought that title wasn't fair, there are many others with much more knowledge of New Avalon," said Linda.
"Wow!" said Abby, rushing past Dane to shake Linda's hand. "It's a great honor to meet you. I tried to take classes with you, but the spots always went to History majors first and I never could get in!"
Linda smiled, half pleased, half embarrassed as she shook Abby's hand. "Please, I'm not anyone special. I just have my own passion for history and this quirky town we live in."
"I read her writeup when I was researching Avalon's Hope," said Abby, turning to Dane. Then she frowned and turned to look at Linda. "Avalon's Hope! That must have been horrible for you to hear!"
"It is a real shame," said Linda glumly. "A piece of Avalon history gone in seconds. I never got a chance to study it. The friend's group for all of Carmichael's projects is very strict and does everything it can to exclude outsiders." She paused and looked over to Dane. "But it was you, wasn't it? The explosion."
Dane shook his head. "We didn't do it. We were in it when it went, and I think they wanted us to die with it, but we weren't the ones who caused. In fact, initially they didn't even know we were there, we just bumped into them on their way out. Whoever wanted it gone
decided that long before they met us."
"It's still a tragic loss," said Linda.
"But that figures into our case," said Dane. "What do you know about Roger Carmichael?"
Linda rolled her eyes. "That's a tall order. Did you really not listen in school? Could you maybe be a little more specific to what you'd like to know about him?"
"Just give me the quick rundown and we'll go from there," said Dane.
Linda sighed. "Roger Carmichael was an architect and a major figure in New Avalon history. His career hit its ascendancy in the 1920s and he was instrumental in much of Avalon's transformation from a sprawling town into a real metropolitan city. It was his designs that shaped the sewer and tunnel system for Avalon, as well as much of the initial highway planning, and even some of the designs for the most common building types. While much of what he did was to help Avalon move into a more modern city age, he is also reviled for his plans that destroyed neighborhoods such as Huskerville -"
"But what was he like?" interrupted Dane.
"Personally?"
"Yeah, I want to know about Roger Carmichael the person," said Dane.
"A genius, visionary. Passionate, a little manic, arrogant. Also an individualist. He was really into personal achievement and thought society often held people back. He loved to condemn those who allowed their ethics to be overtaken by their greed. Despite all that, he did want to improve society. He came back from World War I shaken by what he saw there and wanted Avalon to be better than that."
"Did he have any magical connections?"
"I see where this is going," said Linda. "Carmichael was rumored to have allegiances to occult societies. Hard to really confirm, since almost all I have to work with are letters, newspapers, and hearsay. Lots of those anecdotes and accusations came out after Carmichael's meltdown and before his disappearance shortly after."
"Oh, the good stuff!" said Dane. "Tell me more about those!"
"Just like the average newspaper reader of the time," said Linda with a sigh. "Lots of muckraking. Everyone wants to see a great man fall and see the train wreck that ensues. What can I really say? Carmichael was a visionary, not a businessman. Nobody really understood the scale of his visions or how much overbudget he'd go. The tunnels under Avalon are amazing, but also a labyrinth of turns and twists. There's miles and miles of them, and the city planners really didn't understand what all the tunnels were for. He even wanted to decorate the sewers, using expensive Brass. Then there was the Huskerville backlash. Many peopled claimed their neighborhoods were destroyed, their families uprooted, and of course the crime rate skyrocketed. All for highways they didn't need - remember, highways were an extremely new idea in the twenties and the average Avalonian didn't understand.
Manic Monday: (Dane Monday 1) Page 16
