Edie walked a little farther into the room, aware of Skye shadowing her nervously, as if she was waiting for Edie’s approval or derision. Edie kept looking around. A thick rug with a couch, coffee table, and television sat in one corner. A kitchen with wooden cupboards and a gleaming, brushed steel island with bar stools dominated another. The whole back section of the loft was overrun with electronics.
Open shelves of metal boxes, wires, blinking lights, and fans formed a three-walled barrier around a standing desk and an old, dilapidated maroon leather chair. Edie squinted past the lights into the far corner. She thought she could make out a bed tucked into an alcove.
“You live here?”
Skye moved into the space and tapped again at her phone. More overhead lights came on, and Edie could see two industrial fans with massive black blades circulating slowly in the upper levels. Another set of metal stairs ended at a door on the second level.
“Yeah. It’s home and office,” Skye said. “It’s a work in progress.”
“It’s incredible,” Edie said honestly, still trying to take it all in. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Skye ducked her head, but Edie thought she looked pleased.
Edie pointed to the stairs. “There’s more?”
“A small, unfinished apartment. Mostly storage. Feel free to look around or have a seat. I’m just going to grab a few things,” Skye said as she entered her office space. Edie walked to the windows, realizing how tall they were as she approached. They seemed dwarfed by the enormity of the space around them. Then she dropped onto the comfortable couch and a moment later Skye sat beside her, arms full of laptops and headphones and other gear Edie couldn’t immediately identify.
“So there are several ways to join the meeting. Audio only is an option, passive 2-D video where you just watch on the screen, active 2-D where we can make you an avatar and you can interact, or VR, which is really the whole package.” Skye held up a pair of sleek goggles. “Have you ever interacted in a virtual reality environment before?”
“Once, for an article. But that was a few years ago. I bet technology has changed a lot since then.”
“No doubt.” Skye paused. “I’ll leave it up to you how you want to enter the meeting. If you’ve had any experience with VR, you know it can be disorienting until you get used to it. And the effects can last after the VR session is over.”
Edie searched for condescension, overprotection, or command in Skye’s tone. She didn’t find it.
“I’ll give my brain a break and pass on the VR today. Can I make an avatar, though? I’ll make it better than the Mii my niece and nephew made. They gave me way too many wrinkles.”
Skye laughed as she flipped open the MacBook Air in her lap. She deftly maneuvered through screens and typed in commands. Edie recognized none of the platforms or servers Skye was navigating. She passed the laptop over to Edie.
“Here, you’ve got a few minutes to make a basic avatar. I’ll log us into the session.”
Edie chose the basics for her avatar: medium-length dark hair, brown eyes, slight build, jeans, and a T-shirt. Skye seemed fully absorbed in whatever she was doing on her own laptop, and Edie studied Skye in her element. In her own space, she navigated the cyber world, relaxed. But Edie could also picture her leading a team of troops, her body and mind in tight synch. Command in her tone. Edie thought about Skye’s touch on her back while they were on the street. She shivered.
“You’re staring at me,” Skye said without looking up from her laptop.
“This has been a strange date,” Edie replied without thinking.
Skye went still, and when she looked up, her expression had become guarded. “I can take you home, if you’d like.”
“No, sorry, that’s not what I meant. I like this date. I like being around you.”
God, had she ever fumbled this badly on a date?
Skye saved her. “Me, too.” They smiled at each other and the sweetness of Skye’s expression settled Edie. “Okay, we’re about to get started. I’ll be in the VR world as well, so you’ll see me and hear me in both environments. Your mic toggle is here, volume here, chat feature here, if you don’t want to speak. The meeting shouldn’t last longer than fifteen minutes, and you can exit by clicking here. Any questions?”
“Nope, I’m good.”
Skye lifted the sleek goggles but paused before she put them on. She fixed her yellow-green eyes on Edie’s with an intensity that made Edie’s stomach clench.
“Is there any reason why someone would be following you?”
“Not that I know of.”
“But you didn’t seem surprised.” Question as statement. A Skye Kenny specialty.
“I…” Edie had no idea how to finish the sentence. She shrugged helplessly. Skye said nothing.
Skye’s alarm sounded on her phone. She silenced it, brushed her fingers lightly across the top of Edie’s hand, then put on her goggles and settled back into the couch with her phone in her hand.
Lines of code tore across the laptop’s screen in rapid sequence, then Edie saw the clean, sharp logo of a striped blade and the word “Strictus” across the top. The logo disappeared and Edie found herself dropped into the virtual office. At first it was a bird’s-eye view of the office space, complete with a meeting table and chairs, a wall of whiteboards, a kitchenette with coffee and a water cooler, posters on the wall, a digital clock that displayed military time, and a potted plant that seemed to be growing a pineapple. The view slowly lowered until Edie was looking out at the room from the perspective of the table. Edie could see four or five avatars moving around the space. Each had a name hovering over its head.
Beside her on the couch, Skye tapped at her phone, then reached over and touched the keyboard in Edie’s lap.
“You can toggle between first and third person by—”
Edie brushed her fingers away. “I’ll figure it out. Go run your meeting.”
Skye grinned, tapped her phone again, then spoke. “Hey, everyone, we’ll get started in about thirty seconds. I want to introduce you to Edie, she’ll be hanging out at our meeting today.” Skye’s avatar sat at the table, opposite Edie. She looked the same except she wore a camo baseball hat.
Through the speakers of the laptop, Edie heard a chorus of hellos and then one voice boomed, “Friend or foe?”
Edie checked her mic was on before answering, “Definitely friend.”
She isolated the voice to a corner of the room under the clock. The avatar was a young man in a hoodie, the name hovering over his head said Gordon, and he bounced on a trampoline. As Skye threw out questions, a woman with long red hair stood by the whiteboard and the words appeared there in virtual marker. Edie didn’t entirely follow the thread of the conversation, the tricky line of code a problem that completely eluded her limited understanding. Instead she watched the avatars. Some stood very still, another drank from a coffee cup at one minute intervals, and Gordon bounced on the trampoline, even as he asked and answered questions. Another avatar suddenly appeared at the table next to Skye and Edie recognized her even before she read the name Adelah hovering above her head. The private chat window in the lower right corner of Edie’s screen opened up, a message from Adelah.
Hello, Edie. Nice to see you again. I heard Skye was bringing you to the meeting tonight.
Hi, Adelah. I hope it’s not a problem I’m here, Edie typed.
Not at all. Skye would not have brought you if it was.
This space is amazing. Feels so real.
Thank you. It’s Skye’s code and platform and my design.
Impressive. I bet she brings all the girls here.
You’re digging, Adelah typed, accompanied by a smiley face. I think you can guess Skye has never brought a date here. You must be special.
Edie blushed in real life. Adelah’s avatar, obviously more complexly coded than Edie’s, winked at Edie across the table. Skye, clearly catching the interaction, paused in the middle of what she was saying. On the c
ouch beside her, Edie saw Skye start to reach over to the keyboard, then snatched her hand back and kept talking. Adelah laughed at the table and sent a winking smiley face to Edie before the private chat window closed.
Edie half listened to the meeting as she explored the virtual meeting space, getting bolder as she realized she could explore without interrupting the meeting by toggling to third-person view. She saw herself sitting at the table, relatively static except for the occasional blink. She found a row of old-school file cabinets in various colours next to the small kitchenette, each labeled with names. About fifteen minutes into the meeting, she heard Skye ask if anyone had any more questions, and when there were none, she wrapped up the meeting. Edie toggled her mic to say good night and thank you, then the avatars rapidly disappeared as the office lights dimmed, leaving Gordon alone jumping in the corner as Edie’s screen showed the Strictus logo, then went blank.
Skye pulled off her goggles but kept her eyes closed as she ran her hands through her short hair.
“All good?” Edie said.
“All good,” Skye confirmed. “I just need a moment to ground myself. I find it limits the vertigo.”
“Take your time, I’m familiar with vertigo,” Edie said.
Without opening her eyes, Skye found Edie’s hand and held it. Edie could not remember a time in recent memory when she felt this happy or this comfortable in her own skin. Even the episode with the man on the street seemed far away. Edie leaned back into the couch cushions and closed her eyes, feeling the pulse in Skye’s wrist, loving the intimacy of the moment.
She opened her eyes moments later to find Skye looking at her, their hands still joined.
“I should get you home,” Skye said quietly.
Edie blinked. She could no longer deny how tired she was. She wanted to stay, she wanted to lean in and kiss Skye, to have a glass of wine, to learn more about this sweet, somewhat secretive woman. She wanted to tell her everything: Faina’s betrayal, how scared she was that she was losing her mind, how she missed her old self and worried she would never be the same. Her tears began to surface, but she pushed them back, horrified that Skye might see.
“Yeah, okay,” Edie said, sitting up abruptly and dropping Skye’s hand.
“Walk or drive?”
Edie rubbed at her eyes. “Drive would be good, thanks.”
They remained silent as Skye walked them through the loft to the back entrance with an identical set of stairs that led to a garage and workshop. Edie couldn’t tell if Skye’s Jeep was navy blue or black. Either way, it fit her perfectly. Edie climbed in and Skye tapped her phone and the garage door opened. Edie didn’t notice she hadn’t given her address to Skye until they were turning onto her street.
“You know where I live,” Edie said.
“Google told me,” Skye said, somewhat apologetically.
Edie said nothing as Skye pulled up in front of her apartment and turned off the ignition. Silence reigned as Edie tried to find the energy to get to her door, to say thanks for the date, to find a way to ask to see Skye again.
“Tonight was too much?” Skye said. Edie didn’t know how she felt about Skye’s ability to read her so well.
“I’m tired, but okay,” Edie said. She faced Skye, searching for her eyes in the streetlight. “Thank you for tonight.”
“You’re welcome,” Skye said. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.”
Before Edie could protest, Skye was out of the car and around to the passenger door, opening it and holding out her hand. Edie took it, feeling charmed and ridiculous all at once.
“You don’t have to do this,” Edie said.
Skye started walking her to the front door of the apartment building.
“First of all, there was a creepy guy,” Skye said. “Second, an as yet unverified history of thinking you’re being followed. And third—”
“You’re a gentleman,” Edie finished and laughed as Skye shook her head.
“Well, I was going to say that it’s the proper way to end a date.”
They stood on the top step at the entrance to Edie’s apartment. Edie took a breath.
“I’d like another one. A date,” Edie said.
“Me, too.”
Somehow knowing Skye wouldn’t make the first move, Edie leaned in and kissed Skye. She could feel the tension in Skye’s body through her incredibly soft lips. Skye held her breath as she kissed her back and Edie kept kissing her, tugging gently at her lips until Skye let her breath out in one long, jagged expulsion of air against Edie’s sensitized skin. Edie pulled back. Skye’s eyes had lost just a little of their laser focus. Edie liked that.
“I bet you have my cell number, don’t you?”
Skye simply nodded.
“Good. So you’ll call me.”
Another nod.
Edie leaned in and kissed Skye’s cheek. “Tonight was perfect. Thank you.”
Skye didn’t move as Edie unlocked the front door and made her way up to her apartment. She let herself in, turning on only one table lamp as she went to the front window that overlooked the street. She saw Skye disappear into her car but not start it. Edie wondered what she was doing, and then her phone chimed in her pocket. She didn’t recognize the number.
It’s Skye. All good?
Edie smiled at the screen. All good, she texted.
Can I take you to dinner on Saturday night? Or I can cook for you at my place if going out is too much. Game day decision.
Yes, sounds perfect.
One request.
Okay…
Will you tell me about thinking you’re being followed?
Edie sighed. Of course she would. Right now, she even wanted to.
Yes. Promise.
Okay. Thanks. Be safe.
Good night, Skye.
Good night, Edie.
Chapter Five
Edie’s favourite coffee shop was busy. Too busy. Chatter competed with coffee machines which competed with music. The din created by so many people had always been a draw for Edie. She felt inspired being around that many people, the free flow of unconscious words like poetry that made her want to listen closer.
Not today. Today her favourite coffee shop was a confusion she couldn’t afford. She paused at the window and checked out the posters for the band they were featuring two weeks from today. She considered asking Skye if she’d like to go. A bubble of happiness caught in chest.
And burst there.
Her last disastrous experience at a bar was still too fresh in her mind. Thinking of that night was disorienting and disturbing. Instead she thought about her night with Skye, the sweet first date and the anticipation of another tomorrow. Edie had slept in this morning but had woken groggy and happy. She’d woken thinking of Skye.
Edie carried on, leaving the darkness of the night at the bar on the sidewalk outside the coffee shop. Three blocks down, her favourite small bakery was nearly deserted, the only sound the melodic tone of the afternoon host on CBC Radio drifting out from the kitchen. Edie ordered a coffee and mulberry Danish, mostly because she liked the sound of the two words together. Her cell phone vibrated insistently in her pocket as she paid, gathered her snack, and found a spot in the sun. She pulled out her laptop and notebooks and set herself up to start working on the fall’s syllabus before pulling up the text on her phone. It was Skye.
Hey. Just wanted to chat. Use this link on your laptop. Password is best adjective to describe Hera.
Why the weird instructions? Why didn’t Skye just text?
What’s going on? Edie texted back. She was curious about the link and surprised by Skye’s odd behavior.
Please.
Definitely odd. Edie typed the link into her browser and a white box appeared on a blue background with the Strictus logo Edie recognized from the night before. Skye was contacting her from work? She typed “pissed” into the text box and immediately another screen opened up. She saw her name and Skye’s, like an old-school chat room. The prompt told her Sky
e was typing.
Two minutes then I’m shutting this down. You are being followed. I’m close. You are okay.
Edie read the words twice, her body reacting with dread and nausea even as her brain struggled to catch up. But there it was on the screen. Her paranoia made real in black Arial font. Edie tried to keep her eyes on the screen, but she had to look around the small bakery. The only other customer was a mom who texted with one hand and rocked the stroller beside her with the other. The man who had served her shuffled baked goods in the display. The bakery was quiet and light.
“You are being followed…You are okay.”
Edie? The cursor blinked.
Edie put her fingers on her keyboard. They shook as she typed.
What should I do?
The prompt told her Skye was typing. The wait was endless. She felt exposed, her spot in the sunlight made her a target on display.
Stay for ten minutes. Act normal. Stay calm. Then pack up and walk down to Murray Street. Get a cab at the corner. Go directly home. I’ll meet you there.
Where are you?
Close. You are safe. One minute then this window shuts down. Don’t use your phone to contact anyone.
The shaking in her hands was bad. How was she supposed to act normal if she couldn’t even pick up her coffee? She typed.
I’m scared.
Find anger. Scared later. If you see me pretend you don’t know me. Thirty seconds.
Edie fought the swell of panic. Skye was a lifeline about to be severed. She looked around again. The smell of yeast and coffee, the near heat of the sun through the window. A perfect afternoon completely shattered. Edie felt the invasion. And she felt her anger. She anchored to it and typed her last message.
I’m okay. I’ve got this.
I know. See you soon.
The window shut down, and Edie counted ten breaths in and out. It took forever.
Eight minutes. Act normal. Take a sip of coffee. Pretend eyes were not on her. Everywhere. The back kitchen, the man in the business suit on his phone across the street, the glare of the sun off a car windshield that hid a potential occupant. Eyes everywhere. She’d felt them for weeks. They’d begun invading her dreams, along with the voice that asked so many questions. She didn’t know what they all wanted.
Repercussions Page 5
