“I said, ‘hastily.’”
“Okay,” Fin chuckled. “I’ll meet you back here later. I should get an idea of my status at Sycamore. Find out if I still have a job or if they’ll be pressing charges. It should only take an hour.”
“An hour apart? It will feel like eternity.” Rook batted her eyes.
“Soon, my sweetest, we shall be united in secular matrimony.”
“Aw, that’s such a pretty way to say it.”
Fin kissed her, and said, “Not as pretty as you.”
Rook smirked at him. He giggled, which made her snort trying not to laugh out loud.
Fin said, “We’re this sappy now, what will happen to us once we’re married?”
“Respectability,” Rook answered. Fin looked aghast. “Sorry. It’s mandatory.”
“Well, I still want to marry you. Must be true love.”
They kissed again, the kind of kiss that pushes out the whole world. Finally, Rook regretfully reminded Fin he was the one who was concerned about being late.
He kissed her another time, and left. Rook invented an absurd rant claiming Buck U’s ultimate ambition was to use the dream control to program people into mindlessly loyal sports boosters. It took her ten minutes.
She left the Vagabond and headed for CTP’s office, four blocks over. After filing her story and sparring with her editor, Rook stopped at Goodwill and bought some clothes. She couldn’t wear Fin’s castoffs forever, and didn’t want to deal with the hassle of cleaning all her stuff out of Marcus’s apartment. The paper grocery bag of miniskirts, funky tops, and strangers’ underwear would buy her another week of stalling once she hit the laundromat. On the way back to the Vagabond, she daydreamed, enjoying the outdoors after being confined underground. Fin’s signal was a faint, pleasant caress near the base of her skull.
Dark eyes penetrated her reverie, and until she realized it was the wooden Indian in front of the Geronimo Sports Bar she couldn’t breathe. He was weathered and beak-nosed and only two-thirds scale, but he stood on a pedestal which placed his chiseled visage about six feet above the sidewalk. The carved figure’s exaggerated seriousness, its air of ludicrous nobility, reminded her of Marcus. She saw a connection between this caricature of a chief and his unintentional lampoon of a medicine man.
“Raven.”
The voice behind her was like a knife. Rook whirled to face Marcus, her lungs again rigid. He seized her arm, his face stony. He squeezed.
Rook gasped in pain but didn’t try to pull free. She met his stare and waited to see what he had to say. She wouldn’t give him any words to twist.
With a faint sneer, Marcus asked, “Is he dead?”
She considered lying, thinking it might offer Fin some protection, but saw it couldn’t work. Marcus would feel entitled to her all the more. “No. He’s stronger than ever, I think.” She tried to speak without inflection. Stick to the facts.
“Just as well.”
Rook dared to hope Marcus had already replaced her, until he continued.
“His destruction is my duty. Bad if somebody else does it.”
“He’s strong now,” Rook now attempted to sound concerned for Marcus. “I don’t think you should try to destroy him.”
Marcus smiled. Rook trembled with dread over what amusing thought he’d had, but he released her arm. Sensation invaded her hand like a swarm of carbonated bees. Marcus shook his head slightly and said, “Come.”
“No.”
“Now!” Marcus barked. He reached for her again, but she drew back.
“I can’t! I can’t and I won’t! Marcus, please...”
He sneered and grabbed for her again, forcing her to retreat another step. A man emerged from Geronimo’s and timidly asked if there was a problem. Marcus looked at him and he shrank back and closed the door. Please call the cops, Rook hoped. Marcus had her backed up against the building. His hard, cold eyes pinned her to the wall. Rook was scared, but a calm internal voice said, ‘So much for sticking to the facts.’ She let that voice take over.
“I can’t Marcus. I’m trying to tell you he’s very powerful.”
“He’s nothing.”
“Oh, not true.” She remembered how spaced-out Marcus was after their escape in the truck. “And you know it.” He looked away. “His medicine is strange, and I cannot leave him.”
Marcus looked stricken.
Rook pressed her advantage. “He has my magic now, too. You will need to seek another.”
“No!” Marcus bawled.
“Yes,” Rook said. She overcame the impulse to say anything further. It seemed like Marcus would collapse on the spot, and she’d be able to slip away.
Marcus suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and peered into her eyes. He grimaced and looked away, wailing. “It’s true! It’s true!”
Rook blinked.
“I can see it, now. What he’s done...”
“It really isn’t that awful.”
Marcus faced her again. “Yes it is. He can’t have you.”
“Well, he does,” she said. “He’s too powerful and tricky for you. You should forget me, forget the whole thing.”
“He’s bewitched your mouth. He controls what you say.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Rook said. Marcus looked hopeful for the moment. Presumably this sounded more like ‘his’ Rook. “Listen to me. We’re all done here. Go away.”
“I won’t let go, Raven.”
Let him call me whatever he wants, she told herself. Use his bizarre affectation against him. She smiled, gesturing with her index finger for Marcus to lean close, and whispered in his ear. “He thinks he’s won. The only way to defeat him now is to out-trick him.”
Marcus smiled weakly and rubbed his chin, which meant he didn’t know what she meant but could tell he was supposed to.“Out-trick him.”
Rook nodded.
“How?” Marcus looked suspiciously at Rook.
“Befriend him. Study him,” she said, her voice pitched to ask why it wasn’t obvious. Her game rested on selling him this idea.
A light came on in Marcus’s face. “I can get him to give me his medicine, I can steal his knowledge!”
“Right,” said Rook, wondering if this was really the best she could hope for. “But you’ll need to be nice to him.” She exhaled as his gaze softened. He looked confident, pleased. Seeing that expression on his face made her nervous, but it was better than the fury that was there before.
“Raven,” he said again, “it’s time for you to come home. We’ll plan together how to break his spell and steal his power.”
Now Rook was furious, at Marcus of course, and at herself for thinking anything good could come of playing by his rules. No, what he needed was a sharp dose of reality.
“Marcus, I am getting married. To Fin. Call some of the women you fucked while we were going out. Have fun.” She held her breath, hoping she hadn’t miscalculated the dosage.
Chapter Sixteen
WEDDING
Undergrounded
neural net is on the blink - sparks leap and collide
never know I’m here inside
undergrounded
no basis in reality - left of center, way off base
never know which way to chase
undergrounded
safety, warm and glowing red - you’ve been deep inside my head
and now I’ve got you in my bed - what we share cannot be shed
undergrounded
music and lyrics by Fin Tanner
Fin shielded his eyes against the sunlight streaming through the trees. He moved a block off the main avenue, to a quieter and shadier street. He breathed the clean air and looked up into the blue sky, happy he still had his job. Sycamore’s temporary offices were in rented trailers near the bus station.
Something validating about a job, even a shitty one. He intended to quit without notice someday, hopefully soon, which he couldn’t do if they canned him. The pay was better than nothing, especially for the sti
nt he’d agreed to put in that evening at double his regular rate. It was mildly ghoulish, what with large-scale hospitalization of staff as the cause for his good fortune. Mildly.
“Mr Tanner?”
Fin stopped in his tracks. He didn’t look at the person who’d said his name, just stood and weighed the relative merits of answering and fleeing.
The interloper spoke again, “Hello. I’m Leaf. I’m very happy, and honored, to meet you.”
Fin looked at him. Young guy, puke green sweater. Shit. “What do you want?”
Leaf the Sweaterguy smiled a sheepish little grin and said, “We want you, actually.” He looked like he needed to pee. “You are very special.”
“And look how far it’s gotten me. Leave me alone, okay?”
Sweaterkid looked stunned and appalled. He shook his head. “It’s not that simple. You are needed.”
“You’ll figure out a way to get by without me, I’m sure,” Fin replied. “Now toddle along and tell the Grand Poobah I said, ‘Fuck off.’”
He shook his head again. “Not just us. I meant you’re necessary. You don’t have a choice in this. You do know how different you are?”
“Screw you and your fate-slash-destiny crap. I believe in free will. It’s practically the only thing I believe in.”
“And well you should. I’m not selling predestination here, Mr Tanner. That’s superstition.” He looked all around before continuing. “But like many superstitions, it grows from a hidden truth. Our actions are part of a larger pattern, and free will is limited.”
The kid stooped and picked up a small stone. “Perhaps an example would help. Would you say I was talking about fate if I predicted this pebble will fall to the street when I drop it?” He dropped the pebble, which clattered on the pavement. He beamed at Fin.
“Wow. You’re good,” Fin said.
Leaf sighed. “Humor me.”
“I am the pebble. I got it.” Fin’s words restored hope to the other’s eyes. “But you can’t have me. I don’t belong to you.”
“No! Of course not. You belong with us!”
Fin appraised the guy’s clothing and demeanor skeptically. “Are you positive? I mean, what do you see here that makes you think for one instant your little club wants me as a member?”
“Nothing. Appearances are deceptive.”
Fin scowled.
“You’ve read our manifesto.”
Fin took a step back.
Sweaterguy stopped talking.
Fin took another step backward. They were spying on him. How long? Probably since he blundered into their office. Before that? And the model they had, from his dream. He felt dizzy, overwhelmed by the sudden pressing demand to take all this seriously.
Sweaterguy looked nervous now. He held up his palms and said, “I’m sorry. We expected you to be happy to get this invitation. We thought you were searching for the same things we are. Like the reason for the dream. There’s so much we could learn from you. There is so much to be done. It’s time, now. Please join us?”
“No way,” Fin said with another retreating step.
“Mr Tanner, think. You know we’re not the only group with an interest in you. You were taken to the factory. We had nothing to do with that.”
“You fuckers got me into that when you kidnapped Rook!” Fin hissed. He furrowed his brow. “Hang on. You set up the whole thing. You sent her to Kyle!”
Sweaterpunk shook his head. “It wasn’t like that. We were one step ahead. The reverend was already on his way, and our preparations gave her immunity to the Perceptual Disruption Field.”
“What?”
“Oh. You were in a coma. Never mind. We didn’t anticipate your presence, which is exactly the point...”
“What do you mean, your preparations? What did you do?”
“She wasn’t harmed.”
Fin exploded. “Answer me! What did you do to her!”
Sweaterdick calmly said, “I can’t tell you about that unless you come with me. You must join first.”
“Oh, you sick fucks.”
“There is something I can show you. All you have to do is come over to the van around the corner. You won’t even need to get in. No tricks, no strings. Just come and look.”
Fin fought to control his trembling. “Why should I want to see anything you have?”
“You do, believe me. I don’t blame you for being angry, but this is something you want to see. I think it will help.”
“Help what?”
“I’ll start to explain on the way. All we ask is that you see.” The young man turned, keeping an expectant eye on Fin. As he took a few tentative steps, Fin sulked along behind him. “It’s a reconstruction of visual stimuli. We have software that can handle still images in cortical format. Way too slow for anything in real-time, but neat. This particular image will interest you.” They reached the intersection and Fin saw a dark green van with someone waiting in the driver’s seat. They headed toward it.
Sweaterdouche opened the rear doors, revealing an enormous array of electronic components. A computer monitor stared out from the midst of it all, cursor blinking.
“Show him,” Sweaterprick said, and the monitor flickered before displaying a grainy black-and-white image. The spider-legged bathysphere from Fin’s dream, like the model he saw in the office.
“This image was captured by monitoring my brain waves while I visualized the dream. Does it look familiar?”
Fin stared.
“Show the other one.”
The monitor flickered again, and the eerie image became a bit clearer. The angle of view also changed, but it was the same unearthly object and the same dismal sea-floor.
“This is an intercepted transmission. Strange frequency pattern, but not encrypted. Signals like this are detected almost nightly, and there’s a definite correlation.”
“To what?” Fin asked.
Leaf the Sweaterbastard blinked. He searched for words, as if this should be painfully obvious. “The abductions.”
Fin didn’t react.
“The alien abductions.” He closed the doors. “That’s as much as I can tell an outsider.”
Fin reminded himself to blink, hoping it looked natural. He gazed off into the distance for a moment and said, “Well, that only makes sense. Tell ya what, I’ll get back to you on the whole joining thing.” He turned and resumed his trek toward the Vagabond to collect Rook and go get their marriage license. Over his shoulder he said, “Remember, duck and cover. Bye now.”
*** *** ***
The intertwined lines swept gracefully, around each other and the tiny elongate rhombus they enclosed. Diamonds are forever. The pattern comprised a single line, knotted over itself into an intricate tracery with no beginning or end.
A pair of college guys entered Talisman, their jocularity and baggy shorts offending the tranquility of Coyote’s den. Marcus sat motionless, tracking them with his eyes. They were startled to discover they were being watched, and one of them made a half-hearted greeting. They stayed for another minute, pretending to look at the walls.
Business as usual, lately.
Marcus resumed work on his spell, thinking about Raven, how she spoke to him. It had been difficult to hear her through Rook’s bewitched words, but Coyote heard. He’d wanted to snatch her away, but Raven warned of Fin’s new power. Knowing they could defeat him working together, and knowing that’s what Raven wanted too, he said it was time for her to come home.
“Marcus, I am getting married. To Fin. Call some of the women you fucked while we were going out. Have fun.” That was what Rook’s mouth said. Marcus heard the words.
Coyote listened much more carefully. To him, Raven spoke of a powerful ceremony. She hinted it would be his last chance.
“You’re right,” he said with a sigh. She looked surprised. He did his best to look sad. “I guess this isn’t working anymore. We had a good run, though, didn’t we?”
“Sure. Whatever.” Rook wasn’t buying it yet, bu
t Raven’s voice told him to keep going.
“You and me, Rook, we’ve had our ups and downs.” Marcus knew he couldn’t address her by her true name right now, but Raven would hear him anyway. “Both of us fucked around a lot, but we always came back together. I thought we always would. No matter how many times you stepped out, you always came home. How was I supposed to know this time was different?”
Watching carefully, Marcus caught a hint of some unaccustomed expression in her brilliant blue eyes. Guilt, or maybe pity. With Raven’s silent encouragement he pressed ahead.
“I took care of you because I thought we had something. I never made you pay rent. I never made you pay for any of your ink.”
“I paid for the first one,” Rook was quick to point out.
Marcus bit back the flood of expletives and said with a shake of his head, “I gave you a big discount on that.”
“Because I sucked your dick.”
“Because you sucked it well. Hell, Rook, we had so much fun together. You can’t deny that.”
She didn’t, but she also didn’t agree. Raven had fallen silent, too. Coyote had to let Raven know that he would not fail her. He had to tell her that he understood.
“You really love this guy?”
“Yes, Marcus, I really love him.” Raven’s voice telling Coyote she needed his help to throw off Fin’s spell.
Marcus banked the hot coals of his anger and promised Raven he would bring powerful medicine. “I’ll do your rings,” he said. “Tattoo rings. It’ll be my wedding gift.”
Rook laughed.
“I’m serious.”
“Why the hell would you want to do that? And why the hell would I let you?”
Marcus took a deep breath and smiled, warmly he hoped. “Like I said, you’re special. I want you to be happy. I wish you could be happy with me, but if you can’t, who am I to stand in your way? If I don’t wish you happiness I’m being petty and that’s not good for my spirit.”
She seemed to believe the words he was saying. Raven was aiding his cause, guiding him to say the things Rook wanted to hear. Reminding him to smile. Raven understood his rage, but it had to be kept hidden from Rook. Rook had to think he was happy.
Miss Brandymoon's Device: a novel of sex, nanotech, and a sentient lava lamp (Divided Man Book 1) Page 20
