Everybody Testify

I really wish I was better at describing the expression on a miserable old bat’s face, when her tenant leaves in a rush to procure late rent…

            …and rolls back up to the house, three hours later, in a brand-new Charger. Black. With shiny chrome rims, since there was a Sears near the dealership. Tricked-out, you might call it.

            Trust me when I say it was hilarious.

            “Where in God’s good name did that come from?”

            “Car store. I have your rent money,” I said cheerfully, climbing out of my new toy and inspecting it for scratches. “Can I pay through the year, or would you rather stick to a month at a time?”

            “This is all very suspicious, McAllister.”

            “I imagine so.”

            “I believe you’re selling drugs, is what I think.”

            I laughed. “Almost the opposite. I’m kind of in law enforcement now. It pays.”

            She eyed me in her openly disgusted way and grunted. “We’ll see. Where’s my rent?”

 

*

 

            Nothing puts your life in perspective like owning your first car.

            I leaned on my porch railing for awhile, looking down at Samantha (yes, I named it.) and wondering where I should go, now that I could go anywhere. I’d spent the years since high school carefully constructing my life so that a car would be unnecessary, and now that I’d gone and splurged on one, I really had nowhere to drive to.

            The irony of the situation was not lost on me. I’m sure everyone goes through that sort of deflating that accompanies getting something new. (Wow! A brand new phone! Can’t wait till someone calls me…)

            But I was in the even less exciting position of owning a book that allowed instant teleportation to seemingly anywhere. Nobody in the world needed a car less than I did. I supposed future shopping sprees would be helped along by something to carry stuff in, but otherwise I was just about set for transportation.

            And I really didn’t need a muscle car. I was probably going to get pulled over a lot. I might have gone with a nice pickup truck, safe and utilitarian.

            So it was a little frivolous. Sue me.

            Wasn’t that the whole point? I’d grabbed my wad of cash and said “I’m going to buy something ridiculous, just for fun!”. More or less.

            I sighed and looked at Samantha with something like shame. Maybe I ought to return it, I thought. Just tell ms. Dean it was a rental, I’d just been showing off. There’s really nothing wrong with how I live, after all.

            My phone sang, interrupting my thoughts. I pulled it from my pocket, glanced at the display, and chose to answer.

            “Hey, Lee.”

            “Oh good, you picked up. Where are you?” Her voice was anxious.

            “Home, why?”

            “I… well, I may need your help with something.”

            I chuckled. “Well, if you need a ride somewhere, I’m good for it.”

            “What? No, it’s to do with what happened up at the Nexus. There’s an investigation. I may or may not be in a bit of trouble with Conclave, owing to a certain gunfight.”

            “Ah. Where do I come in?”

            She sighed into the phone. “Well, you’re the only other Conclave member who was there. So to speak. So they want your testimony.”

            “Testimony? Are you on trial?”

            “It’s up in the air. But it’d be nice if you helped me out a little. Just to be safe.”

            I thought about what I’d witnessed. “Is my version of events… going to help you any?”

            “I don’t really know. But these people are fraternal, having someone speak for me will make a difference all by itself. They really pride themselves on solidarity.”

            I thought about that for a second and shook my head, feeling silly for doing so. “Me, though? I’ve met one other person, that Daphne, and we sort of ended up yelling at each other.” I wasn’t trying to get out of helping Lee, of course. Quite the opposite, I wanted her free and unoccupied so we could get down to my training.

            I simply couldn’t imagine being anything but a hindrance.

            “Well, I’ll swing by and port us up to the Nexus, and we can play it by ear once we’re there. Sound good?”

            “Works for me,” I replied, eager at least to see the Nexus again. “I live at-“

            “1313 C, Kennedy. Right?”

            “Um. How did you know that?”

            “Conclave sort of had you followed, after you were branded. How else would we know where to send your check?”

            I hadn’t thought of that. “I see. Um, cool. I’ll be ready in a minute.”

            “Good.”

            I hung up the phone and sighed, turning to go inside and get my wallet, when a loud snapping sound issued from inside my apartment. I froze with my hand on the doorknob.

            “Hello?”

            “Just me,” Lee’s voice said, and I opened the door to find her standing in my kitchen, motes of violet light swirling around her, fading rapidly. She wore her Conclave outfit, black and baggy, with the wide utility belt and her Text on its silver chain. “Nice place.”

            The wreckage of Beck’s sinister breakfast was still on the counter. “I didn’t know you were blasting straight inside, or I’d have cleaned up. Is that polite?”

            Lee ignored me, looking around with a critical eye. “You can’t cook worth a damn, can you?”

            “That was Beck.”

            “I thought you broke up. Again.”

            “Yeah, this is all from… a couple days ago. I’ve been busy.” I grumbled and began tossing things in the sink, trying to ignore Lee’s smirk. “Well, this has been pleasant, but we can go now.”

            “Works for me,” Lee said, snapping open a pouch on her belt. “Have you had lunch?”

            “I haven’t had breakfast.”

            “I don’t blame you,” she laughed, and produced a token from her belt. It resembled a wooden nickel, with a stylized logo printed on one side.

            As I watched, she slapped the item to one of my walls, producing a purple flash which dimmed into a light door, like those at the Nexus. “After you,” she said, gesturing.

            “Where’s this go?”

            “The Nexus Mall. Come on, it only lasts a few seconds.”

            I rolled my eyes and stepped through the light, stumbling a little into the elevator area at the Mall. As usual, hundreds of colorful people streamed in every direction, pursuing whatever arcane tasks they were pursuing.

            Lee strode in behind me, and our door fizzled out seconds later. Immediately, it lit up again, and a tall, blonde man with two saxophones brushed past us, looking harried. I turned to Lee. “You were saying about lunch?”

            “Yeah, we’ve got an hour or so. Feel like a bite?”

            “Sure.”

            “Good, you look like a scarecrow. As a matter of fact, you look pathetic. We may have to get you something to wear if you want to come to my hearing.”

            “I agreed to speak for you, that doesn’t mean you get to go all Queer Eye on me.” I glanced down at my raggedy blue jeans, even more raggedy sneakers, and plain black hooded sweater. “Although I admit this isn’t exactly courtroom dress.”

            “Nope.” Lee steered us into a sit-down Chinese restaurant, complete with chattering Chinese cooks and an utter lack of anything written in English. “This place is great. Do you speak any Cantonese?”

            “Should I?”

            “You’re not in Kansas anymore, kid. Learning a few major languages is a good idea if you’re going to spend any amount of time here.”

            I rolled my eyes. “I’ve never been good with languages. Isn’t there just a spell for that? Some kind of, I don’t know, babel fish Glyph?”

            Lee regarded me with something like disgust. “See, right there. Douglas Adams references? Clearly, you know how to read. You should spend some time applying yourself, instead of looking for a Glyph for everything. That’s a good way to kill yourself, by the way.”

            I opened my mouth to respond scathingly, only to be interrupted by a waiter, who spoke machine-gun gibberish at us. Lee grinned at me and responded to the waiter, in a slower but clearly fluent Cantonese.

            The waiter hurried away, already yelling commands to his kitchen. I’ve always loved the shouting, energetic atmosphere of Chinese restaurants, and this was no exception. Everyone in the back seemed to be screaming and flailing around, flipping and slamming their pots and pans, and if you hadn’t ever seen it before, you’d probably think they were angry, or arguing. Apparently that’s just how the Chinese do things in the kitchen.

            “Uh. Do I get anything?”

            “I ordered for you. Something nice and safe, for the American.”

            Oh, that’s nice. Because you’re what, German?”

            “I’m a woman of the world,” Lee explained, feigning self-importance. “Cultured. Sophisticated.”

            We laughed, for all the world like we were just people cracking jokes instead of potentially in-trouble enforcers for a secret society, killing time on the Moon.

            You know, when I look at it all written out like that, it really was pretty bizarre. At the time. Given enough exposure, you can get used to pretty much anything.

            “I’m glad I’ve got such a globetrotter to show me the ropes,” I said, sounding a little more sincere than I’d meant to.

            “I was assigned,” Lee said, waving me off.

            “You weren’t assigned to take me to lunch,” I said, insistent.

            She looked at me evenly, said “ugh”, then spoke. “Look, you’re an all right guy. You’re a little scruffy, and clueless, and everything you already know about yourself. But honestly, none of that is so bad that I should have dismissed you outright. I guess I’m just so used to being frustrated and pissed off with the Conclave that I find a reason to dislike anybody with a brand.”

            “You seemed to like Beck okay.”

            “She… fits. She’s a perfect choice for Conclave.”

            “But?”

            “But she’s not like… well, us. She’s like them. She’ll learn a few flashy Glyphs and go to all the parties, donate piles of someone else’s money to deserving causes, and help keep the whole thing going. There’s nothing precisely wrong with that. I just don’t feel that it’s enough.”

“I see.”

“So do I,” a familiar voice said, and we both turned to face Beck, who was standing in the doorway of the little restaurant, decked out in Conclave silks, her blue Text snug in a sort of holster on her right hip.

I have to admit, she looked good. Even with the miserable expression on her face.

“Beck, hey-“

“I see how it is. Even though Tyler’s a great big fuckup, all of a sudden he’s in on the super special extra secret mission, and the rest of us are just sheep. That’s nice.”

Lee shook her head, but Beck went on. “You know what, I do belong here. Even if I don’t live up to your suddenly-different expectations. Wait and see how many Trick lives up to.” She turned to leave, hand on her Text, but paused. “He didn’t get that nickname for nothing.”

And she strode away.

And then our food arrived.

Reviews

[Ness]

I really like this chapter, and I gasped out loud when Beck overheard them lol. My worst fear is to be talking about someone only to find out they're right behind me. My favorite part of reading this story is that I can see all of the little parallels to your life and how similar you and Trick are.

[UponATyme]

Beck is such a b***h. I'm interested to see if Trick is going to screw up this hearing. I'm glad Lee is warming up to him. It's interesting that the Conclave have a sort of hearing system in the first place. They seem like he type of people who wouldn't bother. Like they would just throw money at the problem to make it go away.