GAMBOA: 3. The Visit (part 2 of 2)
*
“Were you really waiting for hours?” asked Loki, as he unfolded the blanket on the edge of the terrace on the back of the mansion.
“More like half of the hour” clarified Cynthia and sat on the blanket. “Are you really sure it’s better to sit here than inside? I’m not used to the desert and - “
“ - and your toes and antennas are freezing? Get used to it. Mother is late with taxes for her business, Erin declared that tonight she has to talk with, as she called it, her invisible spiritual guide. There’s no way to talk unbothered inside tonight. You have a bad timing, oh woman of Kynthos.”
“Bad timing and bad luck” Cynthia sighted and turned out.
“Speaking of bad luck” Loki took up the topic. “I think I did not catch why you had come to Strangetown.”
“Ah, it’s a long story and a late hour.” Cynthia snarled. Loki nodded and for a few minutes they sat in silence. In this time Loki took out a roll with tobacco and filled his pipe with it.
“I must…” Cynthia hesitated. “I want to gather some information for my part in that sci-fi series, but it’s a bit difficult.”
“Thinking things up is such a difficult work.” Loki gibed and sat deeper. “ I thought your work is to run around in those platform boots, make somersaults, and talk how terrible the dystopian future SimEarth is.” He pondered, as he lit the pipe.
“And now Joan will share a secret that her grandpa was Balzabian. Or maybe it was her grandma, I think the screenwriters did not agreed on this yet. Yet, the problem is they exist.”
Loki rolled his eyes. “And because you want to be a nice Sim you chase aliens all over the SimCity? At least you chose a great spot, a lot of greens wander around. Set a trap, wait a day or two and voila! An unused alien eager to answer all questions you never knew you had. However, what do you need to know beside that they are green, strong and using telepathy?”
Cynthia chocked on her tea. Loki slapped her in her back, she snorted and finally breathed.
“Wait” Cynthia said between coughs “Can you repeat that one about telepathy?”
“Telepathy. Mind reading.” He repeated solemnly. “ I guess they also use a kind of mind control. I conclude it from an accident in grocery store I had witnessed. The husband of the oldest Curious’ was pickpocketed at grocery shop, and when that alien noticed it, a pickpocket stood still, turned away and with an unconscious expression handled him his wallet back.”
“Loki, can you stop scaring me?” the actress said weakly. She felt she has to curl in that warm pink sweater and just stay here, on this patterned blanket, in this non - sense castle build in the middle of nowhere, with a cup of white tea and a good book close at hand. Just hide. But how long can she hide from something she decided to do?
“Take care of yourself. I can get their medical cards.” Loki said out the blue. “Always more information.”
“How?” - Cynthia suddenly shook off her nervousness. Loki drank his tea and mysteriously said:
“I have some connections too.”
“You want to say: your machines explode and malfunction so often that doctors at emergency room know you by your name?”
“… that too.” - Loki brightened up and put his pipe aside. “Oh, and I have news. Good news.”
“I’m too scared to ask what kind of them.”
“Looks like I have a girlfriend.”
“Wow, brother.” Cynthia whistled. “Haven’t you scarred her off yet?”
“No, she just gets more and more interested. She works in the local hospital.”
“At an emergency room?”
“For now, yes.” Loki admitted and before Cynthia added anything, he went on. “Circe is making her specialization in neurology, so naturally she was interested in my research, and, um, she was very impressed with the last thing I’m working on. She even - “
“You let her into your laboratory?” Cynthia exclaimed. “Then there’s must be something. Something big. And now, show me that thing.”
*
“How did you convinced your mother to make a lab here?” Cynthia asked. She leaned against the wall with two tea mugs in her hands, watching Loki typing a security code. He confirmed it and reached to a pocket.
“It was a long and harsh battle” Loki admitted, as he was looking for a right key in his keychain. “Showing her data about my machines was a good move indeed.”
“And who did give you that idea, ha?” Cynthia smirked. Loki bowed slightly.
“Yes, yes, thank you for suggesting it” he said reluctantly. “When she read side effects of using aspiration - based machines, she gave up and admitted storing it in a hired garage would be too risky. It’s still not that she realizes how it works, but - “ he opened the doors and let Cynthia in. “- but it’s better that way.”
Cynthia looked around. All she saw was antique furniture, art nouveau paintings and a purple curtain covering the walls over the storage basement. Loki pointed the curtain. Cynthia nodded and pushed the material. It uncovered a staircase, leading to once a storage room, now a well - equipped workshop.
“It doesn’t look very laboratory, Loki. Too little organic stuff and no mystical lights - “ suddenly Cynthia stood still and glared at the device in front of her. “… for the Watcher’s sake, why did you build an electric…” she groaned weakly “… bucket?”
“It electrocutes only when used thoughtlessly.“ Loki explained, as he tried to organize the tools scattered on the floor. “I was researching the mood’s impact on perceiving physiological needs. I deduced that, using a right electro - magnetic circuit and a few devices, it can go further.”
“There were cases of Sims dying of starvation, because they were too happy to notice something is wrong“ commented Cynthia. She was carefully examining the machine, paying close attention to every element. “Will it took it to level of constant perception deterioration? Man, you can’t seriously - ”
“No, no!” Loki cried out with annoyance. As he talked, he was waving a small screwdriver, like it was a small director’s baton. “It would be possible but… Not when so much people has access to this place. Too much risk. With this Energizer, one can satisfy his carnal needs by powering them with theirs life satisfaction level. Or their current mood level.” He fell silent for a moment and tried using different words and phrases under his breath. “I forgot how it was called.” He finally admitted.
“Level of the aspiration bar.” Cynthia corrected. “You need to read some basic psychology textbook, you can’t be the Liesmith without knowing how the Sims work.”
Loki smirked.
“By the way, I tried to read Poetic Edda. Again.”
“Really? And what’s a result?”
“I couldn't get over 54th verse of The Ballad of the High One. It’s too…” he snarled, not able to find a suiting word.
“Come on, it’s just an old poem saying that you shouldn’t be too learned to be a decent Viking. You should have skipped that part.”
“But this message is just… wrong.” Loki sighted. “You cannot be too learned. Or too smart. At worst you cannot handle knowing something, but that’s it.”
An image flashed through Cynthia’s mind. It was begging of their sophomore year at ALT, back when he started building his first inventions, the ones that her mother would refer as “messing with the Watcher’s will”. And Loki, sitting on the ground with an opened book on his lap, scratching his head and muttering “It can’t work like this”, and later, after reading a next paragraph: “I refuse to acknowledge it works like this.”
Cynthia tapped his arm.
“I think that’s exactly what they meant.”
*
Next day Mr. PT Smith, known also as “pa”, changed his mind once again and invited Cynthia to a big yellow house, surrounded by a green lawn, in the middle of the nowhere, for an afternoon tea.
At 4 pm, Cynthia smoothed her skirt, tightened her hair band, and hesitated once again. Even if it was a house of her own aunt, Cynthia would still think twice before entering it. It was… too out of place.
The green hand emerged next to her and pressed the wicket. Another hand stroke Cynthia’s shoulder calmingly.
“There, there.” Chloe said. “I’ll introduce you, you’ll smile nicely, and if you don’t start screaming or talking about bees, it will go on wheels.”
“How can anything go wrong here?” Cynthia raised her eyebrow.
“You tell me.” Chloe turned back and rang the door.
What could go wrong? Everything. What if it all was a smart plot to capture her and make her spread their message against her will? They could use TV broadcasting. Watcher knows how would it work. Electromagnetic waves beyond the visible light? High - frequency sounds?
But no, it doesn’t have to be any smart evil scheme. That PT guy can just read her mind right away and learn all those conspiracy theories she was building up since the night.
Bloody Loki and his bloody spooky stories.
Cynthia’s thoughts were interrupted by the door creak. Mrs. Smith, formerly Curious, welcomed them cordially - with warm words, sincere smile, she even hugged Cynthia while she introduced herself. Jenny led them inside the house, sat them at a green - legged table under green celling lamp. She chatted with them for a while, cautiously watching a child playing on the backyard and a toddler playing with a teddy bear. Both of them seemed to be calmer and quieter than most kids Cynthia ever encountered; for a brief moment she wondered if all hybrid kids are like that. Or maybe their parents did something to blunt their telepathy abilities and calmness was a side - effect? But no, that women would not be capable to do such a thing. Cynthia noticed a few dark spots on her green shirt, and a few curls running from the loose ponytail and eye bags. A normal mother who happened to have green skinned kids.
“Pete will come in a moment.” Jenny said. “I just got back from work, and today was rough...”
“Jenny, don’t make excuses and go get some rest.” Chloe said. “We’ll take care of ourselves, won’t we, Cy? Cy?” she urged.
“Yes.” Cynthia answered absently. “We’ll keep eye on the children.”
Chloe and Jenny looked at each other and speechlessly agreed upon something.
“…Mrs. Kim” started Jenny “Did something happened? Are you feeling all right?”
“Of course I feel fine.” Cynthia groaned. She cleared her throat and less harshly explained, hoping that today she was more convincing: “It’s nothing, I talked with a close friend last night. And he… he is not fine. It’s nothing I can help, but I worry about him anyway.”
The sisters nodded. There was no reason to not believe in this version of truth.
Then they were left alone, surrounded by family pictures and children voices. Both of them more… more normal than the actress expected. She started to suspect that… maybe she is exaggerating? If that man is capable of living here for over ten years with that nice woman, rising those children and was not chased out of the town inhabited in a good part by the military men. He cannot be that erratic.
Or they already saw through her and everything around - photos, Sims, grass and clear water in the pool - were just an act.
“Oh, and I owe you apology.” Cynthia said, in weak attempt to side track her mind. Chloe glanced over the table.
“For wha - Oh. Really? I thought walking away in the middle of the sentence is just your kinda of thing, you know.” Was she smiling? Of course she was smiling.
“Yes, it is.” She admitted with a shade of amusement. “And thanks for leaving back doors open.”
“No problem, I gotta use them often when Lola comes back from the big wide world to this…” she weighted her words with a frown “…this town.”
“Yhym.” She looked at the toddler cuddling a toy “Chloe, haven’t you mentioned that your niece is eight?”
The child swung her hand and threw a plushie under a coach. Within the seconds, she held an edge of the sofa, pulling it high enough to rescue Mr. Teddy… or however she called it.
“I did. Tell me, would you believe me she does stuff like this before she was learned to walk?”
“My child, even I hardly believe she is able to do it!” said a warm voice from the upstairs. After a few seconds Cynthia saw its owner.
“Hello, dear” he said as he made a complicated gesture to Chloe; she made a same gesture so quick Cynthia did not notice single moves of Chloe’s fingers and palm.
Then he looked at suddenly pale Cynthia and said with a concern:
“ … I think you need a nice cup of lemon balm tea”.
The black eyes of the void sank her in.
By the Watcher, she did need that tea. Then, she needed a soft, comfortable armchair she was sat in, and she needed a concern. She would add that she needed to get the rhythmic beating of her pulse out of her ears and reclaim some continuity in her thoughts. Everything between the sight of the alien and sitting in the armchair. She was not sure did she swooned or just weakened.
For sure, she did made her host worry.
“Do you feel better?” she heard the same warm voice as before. The alien sat on the other armchair. He was dressed like a tourist - comfortably and without looking into a mirror even once.
“I - I think yes, I do. Thank you” Cynthia squeezed out. “I’m really sorry for this turmoil. I - “ She looked for her bag, but it turned out to be lying by her ankle. Somebody had to carry it for her, “I did prepared some questions, so if - “
“Mrs. Kim, do you really feel up to make this interview?” asked Mr. Smith. Cynthia gasped with surprise, but observed herself for a few seconds.
“No.” she told the truth. Mr. Smith nodded.
“Let me do it in a bit more effective way then” he said.
She noticed the shadow of a smile, the tension of neck muscles, and the air in the room became thicker, sounds became muffled.
Two endless holes of void stared at her.
Then she comprehended the truth.
Author's note:
To nobody's surprise, I did not made it to upload the rest of the chapter before October (but I managed to pass most of my exams, have a short trip before the beginning of school year, and finally read a couple of books, so it was worth it).
Also, I wanted to thank Charamei for beta-reading (and making me cry from laugh with her comments at least two times :) )
And, if anybody just had started to wonder "What the hell does 54th verse of The Ballad of the High One is about?", let's quote it.
54. A measure of wisdom | each man shall have,
But never too much let him know;
The fairest lives | do those men live
Whose wisdom wide has grown.
55. A measure of wisdom | each man shall have,
But never too much let him know;
For the wise man's heart | is seldom happy,
If wisdom too great he has won.
56. A measure of wisdom | each man shall have,
But never too much let him know;
Let no man the fate | before him see,
For so is he freest from sorrow.