Interesting People (Interesting Times #3)

by Matthew Storm

  After a morning spent killing zombies, followed by a long plane ride, Oliver had been looking forward to a peaceful night at home. The minute he opened his front door he knew that wasn’t going to happen. His stereo had been turned on and was playing something that sounded like noise from an industrial plant of some kind, metal pipes clanging and steam hissing. It was loud enough that he wondered why none of his neighbors had called the police yet.

  “What the hell is this?” Jeffrey asked, stepping inside. “Did you rent this place out as a factory?”

  “No,” Oliver said. He had a pretty good idea what was going on.

  The noise stopped and was quickly replaced by music Oliver couldn’t identify, but it sounded like doo-wop music from the 1950’s being played at twice the normal speed. He was fairly sure whatever it was had never been released on Earth, unless Alvin and the Chipmunks had an album he didn’t know about. “That’s enough,” he said.

  The music stopped abruptly. “Aw,” a woman’s voice said. “You’re no fun at all.”

  Oliver shut the front door behind him. Sitting on his living room couch was a blue-haired woman who looked to be in her late teens or early twenties. She wore a leather biker jacket with metal studs in the shoulders and black jeans that had holes in the knees. The left side of her face was covered in tattoos that looked like they might have been inspired by some South Pacific islander tribe. He’d seen the woman before several times. She never looked the same twice, and he still didn’t know her real name. She claimed to be his sister, even though Oliver knew he’d been an only child. He was also sure the woman wasn’t lying.

  “Hey, big brother,” she said.

  “Hey, it’s that crazy lady!” Jeffrey said, tail whipping with excitement. He ran forward and jumped onto the couch. “Hey, crazy lady!” She scratched him behind the ears and he purred happily.

  Oliver sighed. This wasn’t something he’d needed to deal with today. “You just let yourself in now?” he asked.

  “Don’t be mad,” the woman said. “You weren’t home. I waited outside for a while, but I got bored. How did it go with the zombies?”

  A year ago coming home and finding a woman on his couch would have shocked Oliver into speechlessness. Now it wasn’t even the strangest thing that had happened to him today. “They’re dead. Well, dead again, I guess. How did you even know about that? Do you keep track of us?”

  “No,” the woman said. “Not really. I can usually get a sense of what you’re up to, if I pay attention. Especially when you’re in danger. Or if you’re really happy, or angry, which is most days recently. Also, you just really stink like zombies. Nothing else smells like that.”

  “We do?” Jeffrey asked. “I can’t smell that, and I can smell lots of things.”

  Oliver took a seat in an overstuffed chair across from the couch and put the soup down on the coffee table between them. Dinner was going to have to wait. “What am I supposed to call you today?” he asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” the woman said. “Haven’t you figured out my real name yet?”

  “No. You could just tell me, you know.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. You have to guess.”

  Oliver shrugged. “No idea.”

  “Call me Saffron, then. Today that’ll be my name.”

  “Saffron,” Oliver repeated. On other occasions she’d wanted to be called Skyball and Mrs. Johnson. It was never the same thing twice.

  Saffron grinned at him. “I want you to meet someone,” she said. “Ready for this? Hey, Waldo!”

  “Nevermore!” said another voice. Oliver flinched in surprise as a jet black raven flew into the room from the kitchen and perched on top of his television set. It stared at him with beady black eyes.

  “What the hell?” Oliver asked. Jeffrey, meanwhile, squealed and darted for the bedroom in terror.

  Oliver stared at the bird. “You trained a raven to talk?” he asked, astonished. “I didn’t know they could do that.”

  “They can’t,” Saffron said. “They’re clever, as far as birds go, but they can’t talk. Say something else, Waldo!”

  “The Nether Lands have been breached,” Waldo said. “The magician has escaped and he brings doom with him.”

  Oliver nearly gasped. “You changed him,” he said to Saffron. “You actually changed him.”

  “You have a talking cat,” Saffron said. “I wanted a pet, too. It’s been a while since I had one.”

  “I’m not a pet,” Jeffrey said, returning from the bedroom. He glared at the raven suspiciously. “What does that freaky bird want?”

  “He wants you to ask me where he is,” Saffron said.

  “But I see him right there,” Jeffrey said.

  “Just ask me.”

  Oliver had figured out what was coming, but Jeffrey asked anyway. “Where’s Waldo?”

  Saffron laughed until she fell over sideways on the couch. “Do you get it?” she asked Oliver between breaths. “Where’s Waldo!”

  “I don’t get it,” Jeffrey said.

  “I was born of chaos, and to chaos I shall return,” Waldo said. “The dragon waits with a fateful desire. Three is too many. One will suffice.”

  “That’s something,” Oliver said as Saffron pushed herself back into a sitting position. “Your bird is nuts.”

  “Of course he is,” Saffron said. “How could he not be? I made him, after all.”

  “Tell me your real name,” Oliver said.

  “Is it Rumpelstiltskin?” Jeffery asked. “I bet him it was Rumpelstilkskin, and if I’m right he has to make me a pie every day.”

  “I want pie,” Waldo said.

  “We never made that bet,” Oliver told the cat. “You announced it and left the room while I was telling you to forget about it.”

  “It’s not Rumpelstilkskin,” Saffron said. “Don’t worry. You have infinity guesses!”

  “You mean infinite,” Oliver said.

  “I said what I meant.”

  Oliver rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “I don’t have the energy for this tonight,” he said. “What is it you want?”

  Saffron bit her lip. “Mostly to check on you,” she said. “Make sure you’re doing all right. Are you making any progress with your powers or are you still all stopped up?”

  If anyone else had been asking, Oliver would have feigned ignorance. But Saffron was different. He couldn’t be sure of the nature of their relationship, but he was certain they had one. And now she had a talking animal, which was something she’d said she wanted the first time they’d actually spoken. None of this seemed surprising to him, which was in itself surprising. Why did this seem so natural? It was anything but.

  After a moment’s thought, Oliver took a white coffee mug he’d forgotten to take into the kitchen before his trip from off of the table. He held it in the palm of his hand for a moment, staring at it intently. Before long he heard the sound of rushing water in his ears. It was faint, but it was definitely there. The mug shimmered briefly, appearing to be both in his hand and not there at all for a moment. Then Oliver sat it back down on the table. It was the same mug, but it was black now.

  “Holy crap!” said Jeffrey. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

  Saffron looked at the mug and nodded. “White and black. Yin and yang. The duality of nature. An interesting statement, brother.”

  “I was really just trying to change the color,” Oliver said. “Not make any big statements.”

  “It’s progress, anyway,” Saffron said. “Can you do it whenever you want?”

  “No,” Oliver said. “My mind has to be quiet if I’m going to do things like that on purpose, instead of without meaning to.” He looked at Jeffrey. “Which makes it completely useless when we’re fighting zombies, before you ask.”

  “I wasn’t going to ask,” Jeffrey said. “Also, why can’t you do it when we’re fighting zombies?”

  Oliver rolled his eyes. Waldo screeched. “Cherries are full of arsenic and lead!
” the bird shouted.

  Saffron nodded, and then her hair shifted from blue to green. The metal studs on her jacket shimmered and vanished, and then the jacket itself was gone, instantly replaced by a red t-shirt. The tattoos on her face flared bright white and then vanished. Jeffrey’s eyes widened, but Saffron didn’t even appear to notice what had happened. “You need to work on it,” she said to Oliver. “Even if it’s loud around you and you’re scared, you need to be able to control it. You’ll be helpless otherwise.”

  “Why?” Oliver asked. He leaned forward and looked in her eyes. “You didn’t come here to see me show off. You came for something else that you’re not telling me.” He blinked, and then looked at Waldo. “And cherries aren’t full of arsenic or lead.”

  “Nevermore,” Waldo said.

  Saffron rubbed her hands together. She looked nervous. “I’m not supposed to get involved in these things,” she said. “Mother wouldn’t like it.”

  “Mother?” Oliver asked.

  “Aren’t you a little old to be afraid of your mother?” Jeffrey asked.

  “You’re never too old to be afraid of our mother,” Saffron said, looking at Oliver. “We’re not supposed to make changes. Not big ones, anyway. I’m allowed to play, but only a little. She got very angry with you, a long time ago…” she trailed off and scratched her head. “There’s a reason you’re stuck in that body, and why you can’t remember me. Mother did that to you. She would have destroyed you outright, but…” she sighed. “Mother loves us. She couldn’t bear to go that far.”

  Oliver took the coffee mug off of the table again, held it for a moment, and then put it back down. It was green now. He looked back at Saffron. “Playing like that?” he asked. Saffron’s hair was three inches shorter now than it had been when he’d come into the house.

  “That’s a small thing,” Saffron said. “Most things are small things. I could burn San Francisco to the ground and she probably wouldn’t notice.” Jeffrey took a step back from her. “I wouldn’t, though,” she told the cat. “I like this city. It suits me very well.” She looked at Waldo and frowned. “I’m tired of you.”

  “Nevermore!” Waldo cried. Saffron snapped her fingers and the bird disappeared in a cloud of black smoke.

  Jeffrey’s mouth dropped open. “Did you just kill that stupid bird?” He glared at Oliver. “Don’t you dare do something like that to me!”

  “All things return to the void,” Saffron said. Her voice echoed strangely, as if she were speaking to them from the bottom of a well. “He served the purpose I gave him.”

  Oliver resolved not to be distracted by this turn of events. “How is burning a city to the ground a small thing?” he asked. “What counts as a big thing?”

  Saffron shrugged. “Continents are big things. Paradigms are big things. Gravity is a big thing. And Artemis is a big thing. It’s the last one you need to worry about.”

  “Artemis?” Oliver gave her a skeptical look. “She may be immortal, but I’m not sure how…”

  “Do you know how many gods she’s killed?” Saffron asked.

  Oliver was taken aback by that. “Um…no. I don’t.”

  “I do. Artemis is a big thing.”

  “Okay,” Oliver said. “Are you saying I’m in danger and you’re warning me about her?”

  “No,” Saffron said. “She is the one in danger. And if you don’t prepare yourself, you’re not going to be able to help her.”

  Oliver shook his head. “Okay. What’s wrong? What’s going to happen?”

  “I’ve probably told you more than I should have already,” Saffron said. She looked up and her eyes clouded over for a brief moment. “Mother hasn’t stirred, but I’m not going to risk it.” She smiled at him. “I love you, big brother, but I don’t want to end up like you. I love myself too much for that.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with the boss,” Jeffrey said. Oliver was surprised to hear the cat sound defensive. “He bought me soup. But I can’t help but notice he hasn’t put it in a bowl for me yet, or cut the noodles into little pieces the way I like.”

  “I’ll get to your damn soup,” Oliver said. He pointed at Saffron. “Let me get this straight. Artemis is in trouble and you’re not going to tell me anything about it?”

  “No,” Saffron said. “That was why I brought Waldo. Anyway, I…” her eyes suddenly went cloudy again, and then cleared. She grinned. “Well, what do you know? Someone is praying to me in Stuttgart. A teenage girl, I think.” She scratched Jeffrey on the head. “Isn’t that a thing? Hardly anybody prays to me anymore. I think she needs a reward.” Saffron stood up. “I’m going to go see what she wants.”

  “Hang on,” Oliver said. He stood up. “At least tell me who you really are, or who this mother is you’re so afraid of.”

  Saffron shook her head. “Don’t you get it, big brother? Mother is the biggest thing of all.” She raised a hand and suddenly a pillar of fire engulfed her entire body, as if she’d been doused in gasoline and set ablaze. She smiled at him through the flames, and then both she and the fire were gone. The house was empty again, save for him and Jeffrey.

  Jeffrey stretched out on the couch. “I like her,” he said. “She’s weird, but I like her.”

  “Yeah.” Oliver put his hands in his pockets, unsure of what to do next. Should he call Artemis? He hadn’t told her anything about these visits. And what had the bird talked about? Cherries, and a dragon, and…a magician?

  He debated it for a while, but decided against making the call. He had no idea how he’d explain any of this, and he wasn’t in the mood for an argument. He’d have to keep his eyes open, though. If any dragons or magicians showed up, he’d know he had to do…something. Exactly what he’d need to do he had no idea of.

  “The soup should still be warm,” he said to Jeffrey. “I’ll put yours in a bowl for you.”

  “About time,” Jeffrey said. Oliver headed for the kitchen. “Hey, boss?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You wouldn’t rather have a stupid bird than me, would you? Birds are dumb and they poop everywhere.”

  Oliver looked back at him. He was surprised to see the cat’s eyes were wide with uncertainty. That was unusual. “I could never bear to be parted from you,” he said.

  “Wow,” Jeffrey said. “Really?” His eyes narrowed. “Wait, you’re just messing with me, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go fix my soup, you jerk. And make the noodles nice and small, or I’m going to track them everywhere.”

  Oliver smiled. He’d meant what he’d said to the cat, more or less. He’d be damned if he was letting Jeffrey know that, though. He’d never hear the end of it.

  Chapter 4

  The next morning dawned overcast and foggy. Oliver was meant to be at the office at 9:00 a.m. on weekdays, but he hadn’t been on time in several months and had found he didn’t care about punctuality all that much. Artemis was hardly going to write him up, and it wasn’t as if he could be easily replaced. Finding recruits to do their kind of work wasn’t as easy as placing a wanted ad on the Internet.

  Oliver cooked two eggs over-easy and ate them with a slice of wheat toast. When he was finished, he considered having another slice of toast. After some quick deliberation, he held a slice of bread in his hand and tried to use his power to change it into a bagel. There was no sound of rushing water this time, and the bread remained bread. It appeared that actually changing one object into another object entirely remained beyond his abilities. Or maybe it was just one of those things that couldn’t be done. He had no point of reference for what was possible and what was impossible. He tended to discover those things by accident. He supposed he could change the bread’s color if he really wanted to, but he wasn’t sure how he’d feel about eating green or yellow toast. Probably not very good.

  Oliver typically drove to the office these days, rather than take the L train. The Araneae Group’s offices were in a skyscraper downtown in the financial district, and he had an assign
ed spot in the underground parking garage. That was a rare thing in San Francisco these days. The financial district was on the other side of the city, but even with traffic he was generally there within 45 minutes.

  He walked through the glass doors that led into Araneae’s reception area a few minutes shy of 10:00 am. Bruce Caldwell, the firm’s linebacker-sized receptionist, looked up from his desk as Oliver entered, his right hand disappearing underneath it reflexively. Oliver knew the man had a .45 automatic ready down there. There were other weapons in the office, most of them much more serious than a pistol, but Bruce wasn’t meant to be anything other than their first line of defense. Artemis didn’t expect anyone to be so bold as to attack their stronghold, but she believed in preparing for every eventuality.

  Bruce relaxed when he saw it was Oliver and his right hand reappeared. “Rough night?” Oliver asked. “You aren’t usually that tense.”

  “Artemis is tense.” Bruce gave him a sheepish look, which appeared almost comical on a man of his size and build. “When she gets tense, I get tense.”

  “Anything going on I need to know about?”

  “No,” Bruce said. “Nothing new, anyway. But you know how it’s been since…” He looked away.

  Oliver nodded. “Since we lost Sally. Yeah.”

  Bruce started to speak, stopped, then started again. “Look, I don’t want to tell you your business, but Artemis is…she’s having a rough time. You could go a little easier on her.”

  Oliver held Bruce’s gaze until the other man looked away. Oliver couldn’t remember the last time he’d intimidated anyone, let alone a man twice his size. There had probably been a time when doing so would have pleased him, but this wasn’t one of them. “We’ll work it out, Bruce. I don’t think it’s going to be today, but we’ll work it out.”