by Fae York
“Good morning, Gavin,” Emelia said politely.
“Yo, did you do your hair differently? That’s hella cool! You look great.”
Shots fired, she decided to fight fire with fire. Out came her finger guns “Don’t I know it. Hey, you wanna hear about this cool Hallmark movie I watched last night?”
Her response threw him off balance, and the best he could mumble was a quick, “Uh . . . no thanks.” before she walked off, leaving him bewildered in front of the elevator.
Emelia was humming by the time she made it to her office and it felt great. Was that too sarcastic? Not sarcastic enough? How did normal people talk? She’d have to dial it down a notch. She found immense pleasure in watching people’s faces as she passed them in the halls, making eye contact and smiling like it was a normal thing for her.
Still, it was nice to get back to her own desk again. She was concentrating on reading through a file on a new case when Sandra popped her head in, “Hello, Miss Emelia! You are looking quite stunning today. You got a hot date or something?”
Wait, does she know about Aleph? Making sure to keep her expression neutral, Emelia waved her co-worker in. “Actually, I’ve kinda been seeing a guy who works for a financial firm. We’ve gone on a couple of dates.”
At least, she thought he worked for a financial firm. Along with his inconsistent text responses, Emelia would have to nail him down on that one of these days. And also why he didn’t have a last name. Maybe he was one of those people with one name, like Cher.
Sandra’s eyebrows raised, and she leaned in conspiratorially “Oh? Does that explain your cute makeover?” Did it? Certainly, this New Emelia thing was her way of getting back on the Doe cases, but she couldn’t deny that she wanted to look good for him. But he liked her the way she was, and Emelia liked him too.
“Mayyyybe,” Emelia teased, twirling her hair in an exaggerated fashion. “I’m trying something out, taking advantage of my femininity and all that.” Sandra snorted at the flippant response and put her hand on Emelia’s shoulder.
“Whatever the reason, I hope it works out, okay? I know you don’t like to do social stuff, but you should bring this guy out for drinks with us sometime. Maybe you’d scare Gavin off for good if he saw some real competition.” The prospect was surprisingly enticing.
“That actually sounds good, I’ll ask him if he’s up for it,” Emelia responded. “But I need to get onto this pile of work Jay has given me.”
Sandra also had work to do, and left Emelia’s office with a wave and a smile. “Seriously though, you look great. Let me know later today.”
As Sandra walked out of the office, Emelia looked at the depressingly small pile of papers on her desk. Clearly, Jay wasn’t going to assign her much work until she’d proven she was okay. For now, Emelia would keep her head down and let New Emelia do the work. Maybe she’d take Sandra up on that drinks offer.
☐ ☐ ☐
A few days later, she arrived at work to find a bouquet of two dozen yellow roses with a single red rose in the very center sitting on her desk. The card read, “Here’s to a future of possibilities,” and it was signed “–A”.
They hadn’t had a long conversation recently. Not that she had noticed a change in their interactions, but this gesture said it all. Emelia grinned and didn’t even care to contemplate how the roses had showed up in her office when she knew that Aleph was not on the clearance list.
Her phone rang and she picked it up, not bothering to look at the caller ID. “Emelia Plater speaking.”
“You sound like you’re in a good mood today, Ms. Plater,” Jay said in a voice that sounded like a grin.
She chuckled, wondering if he knew about the roses. Going into New Emelia mode she continued, “I am. What can I do for you, Jay?”
“I wanted to let you know they installed that new forensic equipment last night. I’d like to invite you to be the first to test it out.”
“Oh, it’s already in? I thought it was coming in on . . .” she paused and glanced at her calendar, laughing. “Oh, It’s already Thursday. I seem to have lost track of the days. Thank you, I’d love to see it.”
He laughed. “Sure. I’m glad to hear you’re doing better, Emelia. Do you like the flowers?”
Emelia blushed and lowered her face, even though he couldn’t see her. Quietly, she said, “They’re beautiful.”
“I thought so, too, when your friend came in to ask me to help him this morning. I know you don’t like people in your office, so I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“You have clearance to be in here, Jay,” she said, the smile evident in her voice, “but even so, how could I be mad when this is the reason you were in here?”
“Good,” Jay chuckled. “Check out the machine and let me know what you think about it okay?”
“Of course.”
“No rush,” Jay said. “Enjoy those flowers for a few minutes first. I’m glad the whiz kid is doing better.”
Emelia laughed and said, “Okay. Let me finish up some paperwork here then I’ll be right down.”
“Perfect.” Jay said and disconnected the call.
It was nearly 4 p.m. when she looked up from her paperwork. Emelia sauntered out of her office, shutting the door gently behind her and floating down the hallway toward the room where the new machine had been installed. It was housed in what had been an old lab that was remodeled to make room for the new equipment.
She opened the door and walked inside. There were several pieces of new equipment in the room, all top-of-the-line, cutting-edge machinery that was going to reduce their analysis time significantly, but the one Emelia was really interested in was the one that had been designed to specifically analyze and identify DNA. The machine was touted as being 99.99% accurate and significantly faster than the fastest equipment on the market.
There were several people working in the space, already making use of the advanced gear, but no one was on “The Wizard” (as techs had affectionately named the piece of equipment). Emelia stepped up to it and grimaced when she noticed the sizeable and very prominent Pierce Global logo on the front and sides of the equipment. She looked around the room. Every piece of gleaming equipment in the space bore the same brand.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Emelia muttered quietly.
Emelia had heard things about Pierce Global, its ethical lapses, rumored ties to private military companies, and occasional harassment of journalists. She really didn’t like that Pierce had found its way inside the government. She knew the CEO, Anton Pierce, was powerful and influential on Capitol Hill. His company was the company at the forefront of everything that had to do with security and technology. Emelia wasn’t expecting to think about those things while at work. Still, she didn’t exactly have a choice in what equipment the lab bought, and did want to see if this Wizard machine was as good as people were claiming it was.
While this machine could analyze significantly smaller samples for DNA, its most touted aspect was its ability to analyze live samples by placing a subject’s hand on the screen plate beneath the lens. The intricate workings within the machine had the ability to scan the person’s hand, read the markings, and determine their blood type. Then, construct an entire workup on the person within a .01% margin of error. There were rumors the goal of the government was to have a database that contained all the demographic, economic, educational, financial, and health information on every person in the country. Pierce Global had been working on the ambitious project for years, and this machine in particular had gained the attention of conspiracy theorists convinced it was the first step down the road of totalitarianism. Emelia thought those people were cranks, even if some of the underlying implications behind “The Wizard” did feel a little sinister. Especially considering who made it. Nevertheless, its capabilities were going to cut her department’s work time immeasurably, allowing them to work more cases quickly, efficiently, and accurately. Each of the machines in the room were working toward that end.
> With a deep breath and her heart racing with anticipation, Emelia stepped up to the machine and initiated the startup sequence. Only those with higher-level clearance would be able to use this particular machine. She understood why, though, with how much was it was capable of doing. Emelia rolled a chair over in front of it and within another two seconds, the screen was displaying the menu and she was off and running.
She opened a new file and named it appropriately, according to how the government wanted each file to be named: Plater, Emelia, McEntyre, 03201983. There was a master template with fill-in slots, so it made it easy to comply with the structured protocol. The machine whirled through the database instantaneously, responding with, “We have found no matches. Please continue by selecting ‘Enter’ and providing more details.”
“Of course we have no matches . . .” Emelia said to the machine, smiling. The machine flipped to another screen, asking her how she wanted to access the database—through DNA material, fluid sample, textile, or personage. Emelia chose personage. The machine invited her, with a friendly note, to place her hand on the screen beneath the lenses. As soon as she did, the instrument began its analysis and within just a few seconds had identified her social security number and pulled in her medical records.
Emelia swallowed hard, feeling a little nauseated. Damn, that’s a little scary! It had just begun recording her DNA profile when her phone suddenly went off.
She jumped, snatching her hand away from the system, as though she was in trouble. The machine’s screens shut off immediately, closing down in the middle of recording the information. Emelia tried to manage a straight face with little success as she fumbled for her cell, avoiding the glances of the other technicians. Seeing the caller ID, Emelia excused herself and went out into the hallway to answer it, hoping she didn’t look like a complete mess.
“Hello, Mr. Wizard,” Emelia said, attempting nonchalance, “You caught me in the middle of something.” Could she call him that anymore when the DNA analysis machine had the same nickname?
“Sorry, are you still at work?” asked Aleph. “My schedule is all over the place and I forget that other people work different times than I do.”
“Oh, does that explain why it took you two whole days to respond to my texts?” Emelia teased. It wasn’t quite that long, but it was still something she found annoying.
“Yeah, something like that,” he replied sheepishly. “Did you get my little package? I asked your boss Jay to help out. I was afraid they were going to try and arrest me when I went to the front desk.”
“I did. And thank you, they are lovely,” she said, blushing. “Actually, while you’re here, would you like to get drinks with me and some of my coworkers sometime? They seem to know something, especially now that someone sent me flowers.”
“Ha, I’d love to meet Emelia Plater’s partners-in-crime.” He chuckled at his own joke. “Let me know when and I’ll see if I can make time for it. I’d rather not keep you while you’re at work though, could we talk later tonight?”
“Sure. See you later, Aleph,” Emelia said and hung up. Upon returning to the lab, she found that The Wizard machine had crashed. Well, if nothing else she could report that bug to Jay.
11 A Date to Remember
Aleph waved to his friends as they weaved through the crowd on 17th Street. Although the race didn’t begin for another hour, the surrounding area was already packed with spectators. Emelia tried not to gawk at all the glittering, bedazzled, outlandishly outfitted people around her. Apparently it wasn’t just the racers who were expected to dress in drag, but everyone at the event was in drag, a Halloween costume, or both. She breathed a sigh of relief that Aleph had picked her up in his usual button up and slacks.
Aleph’s friends were boisterous and sociable, which surprised Emelia considering Aleph claimed to have met them only a week ago. They were a cute couple who lived downtown. They talked to Emelia and Aleph all night and pointed out their favorite racers to each other. They came dressed as peanut butter and jelly, which Emelia found a tad over-the-top, but also endearing. Only a half hour had passed, and Emelia had laughed so hard that her stomach hurt.
When a group of Disney princess racers, stilettos and all, strutted across the finish line, Aleph reached down to grab her hand.
“You hungry?” he asked her, leaning close so she could hear him over the ruckus around them.
Emelia nodded, and they said their goodbyes to the peanut butter and jelly couple.
Away from the huge mass of people, the night had grown quite chilly and before long Emelia was shivering.
“Cold?” Aleph asked, grinning broadly and draping his arm around her.
“Just a little,” Emelia said with a shrug.
“Well lucky for you, madam, dinner has arrived,” he said, gesturing toward the street vendor’s cart in front of them. “This guy makes some great street tacos.”
“Street tacos? What happened to ‘food just as good as Plume?’” she teased.
“Oh, just you wait, these bad boys make that fancy roast duck seem like a peasant’s meal. Trust me.” He turned to the vendor and ordered one of everything. When Emelia shot him a questionable glace he winked and explained, “This way you can pick a favorite.”
They sat down on the curb, taking tacos out two at a time and rating them on a scale of one to ten. At one point, Aleph took on a British accent and pretended to be a food critic, making Emelia giggle and sending her horchata drink out through her nose. They got so caught up in their conversations that by the time they started walking back toward the race, most of the spectators had gone home.
“What time is it?” Emelia wondered aloud.
“Time to take you home,” Aleph replied with a squeeze of her hand. “It’s past midnight.”
“Walk me home?” she asked hopefully.
Aleph paused and let out a deep breath before responding. “If it weren’t so late I would in a heartbeat. I think it’s wiser if I just call you a taxi. In fact, it’s nearly here.”
“Oh, okay.” Emelia tried not to sound too disappointed.
“Emelia?”
“Ye—” she started, but Aleph interrupted her with a kiss.
“I like you,” he said as they pulled apart. “A lot.” He stepped back and looked at her for a few moments, a shy smile spreading across his lips. A little flustered, Emelia hesitated before she said anything. Then, summing up a bit of courage, she reached up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
“I like you, too, Aleph.”
The taxi arrived and Emelia climbed in, stomach still full of butterflies.
☐ ☐ ☐
Emelia watched Aleph across the room, laughing and talking with a few of her coworkers. When he tossed his head and ran his hands through his salt and pepper hair, she couldn’t help but smile. Life was good. Over the last few weeks, Emelia and Aleph had fallen into an easy routine that was filled with unstoppable laughter and comfortable companionship.
Emelia swirled her drink and let her eyes wander through the crowd of people gathered on the dance floor. A woman with deep auburn hair and a lean figure caught her eye. She wore a form-fitting black uniform that clung to her hips—there was something about it that was oddly familiar. Maybe Emelia had seen it in a movie? She couldn’t remember.
Emelia watched as the woman sat down at a table, pulling her hair over her shoulder to expose black lines on the back of her neck. Emelia stifled a gasp.
Another Doe?
As if the stranger could sense Emelia’s attention, she turned and they made eye contact. The woman then raised her glass to Emelia and winked. Right on cue a waiter passed by and they lost sight of one another. When Emelia looked again, the woman was gone. Emelia felt sick.
Just then, Aleph came up behind her and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Honey,” he said quietly, “are you okay? You’re looking a little pale.”
“I . . . uh . . .” Her hand was trembling on his arm.
“Emelia, what is it?” Ale
ph asked. His voice was filled with concern.
“I really don’t feel well,” Emelia said, silently hoping that he wouldn’t ask why. She couldn’t tell him about the Does. Not yet. She was either on the edge of discovering something bizarre, or hallucinating. Emelia worried that it was the latter. Those sudden onset headaches were coming more and more frequently.
“Should we go out and get you some fresh air?” Aleph asked, helping her down from the stool.
“I don’t know Aleph. I think I just need to go home.”
“Of course,” he said, nodding emphatically. “I’ll go grab your coat and we can head back to my place.”
☐ ☐ ☐
Aleph’s apartment was larger than her own, but not quite as modern. Everything at Emelia’s was sleek and practical, sharp corners and hard lines. Aleph’s style seemed to be a bit cozier, the lighting was warmer and there was more color. It wasn’t what one would expect from a typical bachelor pad, but Emelia liked it. Aleph sat her down on his couch then stepped into the kitchen to get her a glass of water. While he was gone she studied the living room, trying to take everything in.
There were no photos, which was odd for someone like Aleph. He was so caring and open that she had expected his walls to be lined with family pictures or other framed memories. However, his walls were bare. There was a small TV in the corner and books on every shelf. The remote was nowhere to be seen, but several books lay open on the counter. Aleph clearly spent more time reading than he did in front of a television screen. Emelia liked that.
A few minutes passed and Aleph returned with a tall glass in one hand and a blanket in the other. He was adorable. She scooted over so that he could take a seat beside her on the couch.
