by

Yanick Champoux (38%)

Lee Watts (18%)

Josip Nað (17%)

Michel Lacombe (16%)

Dorian (4%)

goldkngt55 (3%)

Andrew Avila (2%)

Marten (1%)

Oliver (1%)

Part 24

Michel Lacombe (7/1/2002)

Looking at herself as she combed her hair the next morning, she thought Dem... Since when was she calling him Dem? Anyway, the killer inside her brain was sweet to lie, but she really was ugly, and she should start trying to live with it better. She had more serious problems.

You're really serious about this, aren't you? You really think you're ugly? You have no idea what men see when they look at you, do you?

"That doesn't count. Men pounce on anything that even looks female."

No, we don't... Well, yeah, as a group, we do, yeah. I don't. No, really, I don't. Honest.

"Yeah, yeah. So what do you see in me, oh sensitive man?"

Instead of saying it, he loaded it whole into her mind.

It was a while before she could speak again, sitting back on the toilet with her eyes closed, a puppet with her strings thankfully cut off. He didn't dare think a word before she did. "Now I know how Narcissus felt."

Are you all right? were the words. The tone was I just screwed up, didn't I?

"You know, we just made love. In every way that counts."

I'm sorry, I didn't expect it to turn out like that... I got carried away.

"Shut up." She opened her eyes and looked at the mirror so he could see her smile. Gods of all the races, she was beatiful. She'd have taken her little nose between her sweet plump lips if she could've. "I'd been needing that for a long while. And intimate as we are, I can either share that part of my life with you, or not have it, so..." She felt him relax. "But I'm hiring an accountant to handle my taxes away from my sight from now on."

Fair enough. Can you let me have the body this morning for maybe half an hour? No, not for that. I need to try some physical exercises. No, that's not what I mean! Look, they've implanted my combat fleshware into your body. Automatic fighting relexes; you can fight faster 'cause your awareness isn't involved. But my body was trained for extreme hand-to-hand combat, I have to adjust the software for the shape you're in, or you're liable to get hurt.

She was still smiling at herself in the mirror, more like an imp now, and a steady amused thrill was the music of her mind. He was about to insist again when she said: "You know you're cute when you're straining to be nice? Calm down, I trust you."

She took a deep breath and let go.

What do I need to do?

" We've swapped already."

Oh. That was easy.

Demuel stood Maddie's body up... When had he started calling her Maddie? Oh well. They looked at themselves in the mirror for a while, pretty young woman with a feline killer stance. Every geek's dream come true. And one Wheeler's. Dem turned away from the mirror before that thought distracted him too much again. "Narcissus had it easy."

She wasn't in bad shape for an accountant. Dem only had to drop his combat default speed by 25% to be safe. He hoped, not too loud, that this wouldn't matter, and assured Maddie that it would do fine. Then he floated a menu before their shared mind's eye.

What's this?

"I'm adjusting our internal translator. Understanding Vau is fine if you want to listen to adverbs all day long, but this thing can also selectively shut out a speaker's voice from our perception and feed us a translation in our own language. Synchronous dubbing."

Wow.

"And best of all, you can not only choose your language, but your level of speech." Yo dude, how's it hangin'? "Bit too far down." Hi. "Ah. Perfect."

Maddie was awed by the menu.

Wow. It goes all the way down to Binary.

"Yeah, but Assembler translates faster."

This adjustment spared them Shepherd's lenghty speech. It's amazing how loud one's body language becomes when one's voice is imperceptible. To Dem's credit, he managed to limit the expression of his amusement to a polite smile on Maddie's sweet plump lips. Maddie, however, was free to howl merrily at Shepherd's expansive gestures of solemnity.

"Cut it out, I'm trying not to laugh here."

Sorry. But he looks like he's about to lay an egg!

Dem made the small high-pitched sound you get when you desperately suppress a chuckle. Then Shepherd's speech translated, and any danger of laughter ran out the door. "I don't know what your mission is", the translation said.

"Get out of here!" Dem had thought this into his translation package instead of speaking out loud, so Maddie's voice spoke a more diplomatic Vau phrase. Also more convoluted. And much, much longer. This gave the bodymates ample time to freak out.

They had very little patience for how long it took Shepherd to say something Vau that translated as "We follow the prophecies blindly. We're supposed to bring you somewhere and leave you there. We know nothing more and are very happy with this."

"Look, Shepherd, we don't bleat, okay?" This time, he'd spoken out loud. He regretted it almost immediately, as a frown rippled over Shepherd's serenity. Letting the translation package make that more polite would've been safer for Maddie.

Don't worry about me, she mind-whispered. I've had it with this peacock pushing us around too.

Shepherd remembered he was dealing with barbarians, and was once more awed by the inscrutability of the Gods, who would choose such a lowly instrument for such a grand purpose (it must be a grand purpose, whatever it was, otherwise the gods wouldn't have bothered, much less threatened the end of worlds). He would pass this test of patience and show the gods how great and profound of character he was in his humility and subservience to their cause. He spoke once more, more ornately than ever before to honor this unlikely savior before him. This added another five minutes to a declaration Dem and Maddie's innerware rendered as "You were told more about your mission than we know already."

"What in the name of the Pancreator's gall bladder are you..."

Shit. Oh shit.

"What's wrong?"

He means my dream, Dem.

"Oh. Oh shit."

Dem had let Maddie have the wheel again by the time they went to bed. He'd always hated brushing, and when he'd offered to wax her legs for her, she'd thought he was kidding. You win some, you learn to live with the rest.

Okay, if and when you start dreaming, I should be right there by your side. If I'm not, I'll need you to check some things out for me, so don't panic, okay?

"Okay." She was getting better at sounding brave by leaps and bounds. "What kind of things?"

I'll need you to verify that it's actually a dream you're having. Bear with me. If you see any textscreens or signs or books, or a clock, try to read them. Try for a while. If it's a book, stare at the same page for a while. If you're dreaming, you won't be able to read, the text will change as you're looking at it. If you can find any sort of a light source, try to switch it on or off. In dreams, you can't change the quality of light; light switches don't work, blowing clandles out won't change a thing.

"Got it."

If all else fails, stop and look at your hands. Same as with the writing, stare at them for a while. If you're dreaming, they'll change as you're looking at them, change shape, or color, or maybe your fingers will float off your hands likes balloons or something.

"Writings, lights or my hands. Okay. And this is how I can tell whether you've been asking for too much choova sauce or whether this is their prophecy."

'Prophecy' may be pushing it. We'll blow that bridge up when we get to it. Really important thing you have to remember, though: whether this Kraken thing you're having is indigestion or prophecy or some obscure reference to how you're afraid your father didn't love you, it can't hurt you. You're not in danger. You're asleep in the safety of this ship.

"The safety of this ship wherein you were blown to barbecue. Oh shit, Dem, I'm sorry, I meant to think that for myself, I'm so sor..." She stopped short. He was laughing his metaphorical head off in the back of hers.

Heeheehee, haaaah! Hasn't been a week since the first time you saw a dead body, and you've already kidding about it. My kind of girl. Go to sleep, Maddie. Have some horrible dreams for me.

"Good night, Dem."

"Hey, when did I tell you about my father anyway?"