The Daily Grind - Chapter 217 (Patreon)

"There is an existential horror to the nature of intimate relationships. That opening ourselves to others - allowing them in - brings with it an annihilation of our singular self. We merge, we reshape, we combine and replicate, and mirror. And, on a level that is terrifying, to be with someone is to sacrifice something of who you are. But it's also beautiful." -Dan Olson, Annihilation and Decoding Metaphor-

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It was entirely possible that Harlan was just here to talk.  As they were in the process of saying something while James charged them, that was actually highly likely.  But, the rapid processing and reflexes he had told him just under the surface of his conscious thoughts, Harlan was both responsible for or involved with several dozen civilian casualties, and also sitting near his home with a gun out in an implicit threat.  And James felt like maybe the conversation could start when he’d gotten a few hits in.  Also he wasn’t going to take the risk that Harlan was going to pick up that gun and start shooting.

There was something nudging him forward.  An instinct he didn’t recognize, but trusted entirely.  Something telling him to kick this person in the face before things got worse.

To his side, Alanna didn’t react quite as quick, but she was still right there with him, charging forward to the person who’d decided to show up uninvited to ruin their night out.  She wasn’t technically worried about getting shot, but still felt a spike of fear as Harlan’s hands blurred and the gun was snatched off the table, along with the plate the pastry was on.  The remains of the baked good scattering to the ground as Harlan flung the saucer at James’ head, and kicked themselves backward.

“I’m here to-!” Harlan started to call out over the noise of their heavy iron chair hitting the concrete after making a ninety degree rotation, Harlan themselves simply rolling to their feet.  Their words were cut off as James closed in, the shattering of the porcelain plate behind him adding to the sudden burst of noise as James threw a punch at Harlan’s head.

They easily slapped his strike away, and James felt a sting on his freezing skin at the contact. And also the mild sting as he flexed a muscle that he didn’t have and discharged an electric shock through his skin at the contact point. But he didn’t relent, instead keeping his guard close, closing any openings, and pressuring Harlan to take a couple steps back so they’d be clear of the obstacle of the table and open to being tackled by Alanna.

Harlan didn’t do that.  Instead, they met James’ attack, the two of them sliding into similar boxer’s stances as both of them rapidly ramped up how quickly they were moving, a dozen strikes and blocks over the space of a couple seconds.  When Alanna reached them, and tried to tackle Harlan into a pin, their opponent leaned into her attack and hauled down on Alanna’s arm, pulling themselves up and using the motion to kick James in the chest.

As James staggered back, he got a good view of Harlan trying to drive a series of rapid punches under Alanna’s ribs, and getting no reaction from the person who turned the first few dozen high energy impacts she experienced every day into nutrition.  This didn’t deter their opponent, though, who turned their motion and grip on Alanna’s arm into a yank and a throw, sending Alanna stumbling past to catch herself on one of the wooden columns outside the cafe.

The third person with them, Auberdeen, wasn’t a fighter at all.  But she’d taken evaluation of the situation, and had decided to at least try to help.  Harlan cut her off, one arm coiling out like a dancer, a flash of swirling color and ink bleeding off their skin and into the night air, before snapping into full form in front of the loyal dog.  Auberdeen skidded to a stop as she came face to face with a living tiger, the beast outmassing her twice over and seemingly unconcerned with having suddenly come to life in a suburb of the Pacific Northwest.  Auberdeen froze, a look of canine panic on her face as she tried to backpedal, the tiger circling around her without attacking.

“Can we just-?!” Harlan got about halfway through that sentence before Alanna threw a chair at them.  One of the heavy, fifty pound wrought iron chairs.  Harlan ducked it without looking, the cacophony of metal bouncing across concrete filling the air again as James and Alanna closed on them, neither of them having noticed the tiger yet.

James did notice the sword, though.  It unfolded out from around Harlan’s neck as he got a good elbow to their face during a quick exchange of blows.  Harlan kicking away at the last second and spinning as they grabbed the object out of the air, the blade going from looking like it was made of paper and liquid to a solid thing as soon as their hand closed on the hilt.  Harlan used the flat to stop one of Alanna’s fists, and then tripped his partner with it, sending her sprawling, before turning and lunging at James.

James had already tapped into the cafe’s wifi, and opened an email attachment through his skulljack, as Harlan started their move.  The handle of a familiar rapier suddenly appeared in his hand, frozen fingers closing on it as he pulled himself into a fencer’s stance, deflecting the strike Harlan had aimed at him.  It wasn’t lost on him that Harlan had pulled that attack; they were using the flat of the blade, and from the looks of things, that sword was sharp.  Still, he twisted, and deflected the attack, moving into another parry with a nervous skill born of long practice that hadn’t been tested in a real fight yet.

And then, as Harlan stood still for long enough to appraise him, James triggered his ability to manipulate asphalt, with what was left of his velocity to add Maker’s Hand Upon The Wheel to the mix.  He pulled a flowing line of asphalt out from under the front bumper of the car parked by the curb, whipped it across the ground, wrapped it neatly around Harlan’s boots, and spiked it into the ground.

Harlan hesitated, and James breathed out a sigh as Alanna stumbled to her feet to his side.  “Huh.”  Harlan said, looking down and trying to move their feet.  “Not bad.”  They flicked their wrist, their sword coiling back into their skin, until only the edge of a tattoo remained.  “Still just here to talk though.”  Their voice was still calm and steady, like the fight hadn’t taken anything out of them, even if they did hold their hands up in the air in surrender.

“…Mine doesn’t do that.”  James said, flipping the rapier in his hand around and wondering how the hell he was going to walk home with this.  “Also next time don’t show up to talk with a gun out?  That tends to fuck with the balance of power.”  He admonished the other fighter.

“You fucking asshole.”  Alanna gasped out in addition, one hand on her chest as she tried to get back the breath that was knocked out of her.

“You started it.”  Harlan shrugged.

James snorted.  “That…” He paused as he glanced behind himself to where Auberdeen was frozen in place while an actual tiger slowly sniffed at the side of her head.  “Uh… stop that?”  He told Harlan, pointing at the ongoing incident.

“Oh, she’s harmless.”  Harlan said matter of factly.  “Good for a distraction.  Won’t hurt anyone.  Hell knows I’ve tried to change that, but she doesn’t listen to me.”  They didn’t break eye contact with James.  “Which is going around, tonight.”

“No, fuck off.”  Alanna cut in.  “You don’t get to show up all ominous and threatening then act like it’s our fault for not wanting to talk at gunpoint.  Fuck you.”  She folded her arms, before glancing at James.  “I’m calling Response.  We were literally just talking about not having prisoner capability, but we’ll figure it out.”  She said.  And James hesitated.  Alanna paused too, seeing the look on her boyfriend’s face.  “Oh, hell no.”  She said, looking back at Harlan, who was giving them a placid evaluation.  “James.  No.”

A lot of James agreed with his partner right now.  He was, honestly, pretty pissed at Harlan for at least two reasons.

But being angry didn’t solve problems.  Not on its own.  Anger was a great motivator, but it didn’t always make the right decisions.  James kept telling people how he wanted the world to work.  The least he could do was listen to himself.

And it didn’t help that, the instant the fight ended, whatever had made him feel like violence was the cleanest answer to this problem had ended too.  He wasn’t sure if that was Harlan fucking with them somehow, or just him not being in perfect control of his emotions, but it wasn’t great either way.

He sighed and called up one of his manipulate asphalt charges, leaving holes in Harlan’s boots, but letting them move again.  The rapid use of the ability gave him a mild headache, but it wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to.  “We’ll talk inside.”  James commanded, walking past them.  “It’s fucking freezing out here and I’m not magic like literally everyone else here apparently.”

Harlan didn’t exactly grin, but Alanna still gave them an unhappy glare from behind as she caught an aura of smug satisfaction when they walked past, whistling to call their tiger with them.  “You okay?”  She asked Auberdeen as the now quite skittish dog pressed up against her leg.  Auberdeen looked up at Alanna with wide eyes, shuffling herself in place before looking after the literal tiger that had been set on her.  “Yeah, me neither.”  Alanna said.  “You can head home if you’re…” She got an instant low woof in response.  “Alright.  Let’s go.  You want a dog cake?”  The cafe had cake for dogs, and Alanna knew Auberdeen loved them.  It wasn’t exactly a fair trade for the tiger thing, but it was something.

Inside, James had pointed Harlan to an empty table in the back, and was ignoring the dozen people recording him on their phones, as he talked to the guy behind the counter.  “-honestly don’t have anywhere to put this.”  He was saying, indicating the sword he was idly holding.  “Can you just hang onto it?”

“This isn’t going to get me stabbed, is it?”  Alanna heard the barista ask, as she calmly sat herself across from Harlan and leveled a glare at the other person.

“You’re good.”  James said.  “Also, can I get… uh…”

“The usual?”  The barista asked.

“Are we really here so often that-“

“Yup.”

James gave a dejected huff, but he wasn’t really feeling that offended.  His nerves were still on edge from the fight, and from Harlan’s presence at all.  “Alright, fine.  Also a dog cake.”  He lurked around the counter, watching Alanna and Harlan just stare each other down, while the rest of the cafe seemed to have paused to try to figure out if the actual literal tiger was going to be a problem.  “Hey.”  He nodded once to someone who was still filming on their phone, their mouth slightly open as they panned the camera over him, and back to the tiger.  “Man, you’d think after all the weird we’ve brought here, the tiger wouldn’t be that bad.”  He grumbled.

The barista raised his eyebrows at James as he capped their drinks and slid them to the edge of the counter.  “The tiger is real, though.”  He informed him.  “With everyone else you bring in here, it’s so out there, we just gotta roll with it.  But a tiger?  That’s normal enough that it’s confusing.  Giant smart cyborg snakes belong nowhere, so they can be anywhere and it’s kinda weird.  Tigers belong in the zoo, or… India?  So they belong here less.”

“You’re taking this really well.”  James mused.

“I’m considering buying a house with how much you guys tip.”

“Touché.” He said, raising his drink cup in a toast as he headed back to the table, stepping over Auberdeen and settling in next to Alanna as he balanced the items in his hands, setting cups on the table and sliding the plate of dog cake onto the floor.  “Alright.”  James started, leaning forward on one elbow.  “Why are you here?”  He asked.

He was willing to give talking a shot.  But he wasn’t going to apologize for reacting badly.  Not yet, anyway.  And it seemed like Harlan wasn’t either.  Or perhaps they didn’t care.  James got a weird vibe from them that didn’t quite add up in his head.

He paused, and looked at Harlan again.  Short, close cut hair, black turtleneck, very ‘professional killer’ kind of vibe.  There was something weird about how he thought about them though, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.  It wasn’t just that Harlan felt kind of emotionally dead, either; they switched between fighting and talking like the two things were exactly the same level of risk, and their expression was one of almost casual disinterest, even though James knew from their first interaction that they were a little more empathetic than that.

“I’m here because yesterday, you killed one of my soldiers.”  Harlan said with that same disinterested tone.  “And I have some questions.”

“In my defense, she shot me.”  James said, trying to override the surge of violent disgust and panic he felt at the words with banter.

Harlan’s eyes flickered to his, and they suddenly leaned back, softening.  “No.”  Their voice took on a more human quality.  “You don’t understand, all I know is that you killed someone in my command structure.  I don’t know why or who, though I can guess, and importantly, I don’t know where.”

“…And?”  James asked.

As he asked, next to him, Alanna tapped into their shared skulljack link and sent him a silent message.  “They’ve got something weird going on with their emotions, but they’re relieved, in general, at how things have gone.”  She messaged him.

James elaborated on his question before Harlan answered.  “Sorry, let’s be clear.  You know I killed someone in your group, now you’re here, armed, being cryptic.  And we’re not exactly feeling super open to sharing information now either.  So, let’s try this.  Tell me what is going on, and I’ll reciprocate.”

Harlan looked at him for just a second before shrugging.  “Sure.  My notes say you’re trustworthy.”  They said.  “During a retrieval operation two months ago, one of my teams went missing.  Something went wrong with our team composition, and they were all redlining.  None of them should have been out at all, but they were.  They didn’t make contact, and vanished along with a few pieces of important gear.  Mostly my good helicopter.  I know they’re still around, because I get kill notifications from them, but I don’t know where, and because there’s evidence that you’re reasonable, I was going to offer to buy the intel off you.”  Harlan paused.  “After testing you.”

“You know, people keep testing my partners with violence?”  Alanna spoke up, her voice unamused.  “It’s not a good look.”

The person across from them gave a tiny shrug.  “I can’t tell you why everyone else is doing it.  I just needed to see if you’re the kind of people who’d push for a kill.”

James slammed his eyes shut and made an irritated ‘ugh’ noise in his throat.  “I hate the world you’re part of.”  He said softly.

“Yeah, I get that.”  Harlan answered.  “Congratulations, though.”

“On… us not trying to kill you?”

“On your marriage.  Is that not what she said?”  Harlan flicked a thumb toward Alanna.

“We’re not… this isn’t relevant.“ James focused on the important part.  “You have memory problems.  You don’t remember meeting me?  Is that… wait!  You sound different!”  He suddenly realized what had changed.  “No, sorry, I’m still getting off topic.  I’m going to take it as read that you I guess get kill and death announcements from your squads, which is weird, but okay.  Why did they defect?  And why there?”

Harlan gave a twitch of their eye that James missed, but Alanna didn’t, and filled him in on rapidly.  “You have less intel than the notes suggested.”  They said.  “Still, no big secret to fill you in.  The Wolfpack uses our own memories as a resource.  A lot of us leave notes to ourselves, and we’re expected to retire when we start to redline.  But they didn’t.”

“Oh.”  James said.  And then, as he made the connections, “Oooh.  You hit a point where you don’t have the context to ideologically align, or something.”  Alanna glanced at him, and James explained.  “They forget the parts that are important to who they are, so they become someone else.”

“Well that’s fucking terrifying.  I know identity is fungible and individuality is an illusion, but it kinda sucks when it’s that and not just having sex while we’re all one person.”  Alanna leaned back, reevaluating Harlan.  “That’s why you feel so weird.  You actually don’t know what you feel, do you?  Oh fuck me, you’re not here because a flowchart told you to, are you?”

Harlan flinched, glancing away for just an instant, but long enough that James felt an immediate pang of sympathy for them.  He leaned forward, shifting his cooling drink to the side, as he murmured quietly, “Do you know what you’re doing?”

And after a moment that stretched on, the noise of other cautious conversations and the hiss of the cafe’s espresso machine intruding on their small pause, Harlan met his eyes.  “Of course.”  They said with a solid confidence to their voice that Alanna instantly flagged as hollow, leaning back in their chair and adjusting the neck of their turtleneck.  “I am formally requesting an exchange of intel.”

“This isn’t my job.”  James said simply.  And it wasn’t.  Not really.  There was probably no reason to say no, but that sentence could be appended with ‘as far as he knew’ and still be accurate.  The problem was, he wouldn’t know.  Nate would know.  JP would know.  James though?  He was worried he’d say yes, say something stupid, and reveal actual sensitive intel that he actually probably shouldn’t.  The Order of Endless Rooms wasn’t a conspiracy, but that didn’t mean that sharing their tactical secrets with someone who did seem to be in a stealth war with the CIA was a great plan.

The look Harlan gave them wasn’t put off though.  “It doesn’t matter.  You were the one I knew how to find.”

“Yeah, how is that exactly?”  James demanded.  “I’d like to know that, before I learn that other people know where I get coffee, and maybe live.”

“Oh.  That.”  Harlan seemed dismissive.

“Oh that, they say, like we’re somehow comfortable with people intruding on our personal lives.”  Alanna practically growled.

Harlan didn’t react to the bite in Alanna’s words.  “We got lucky.”  They said simply, with a tiny shrug. “Spotted one of your people while on an op in the area.  Lost track of them, but knew where to start looking, and really, there’s no foolproof way to stop someone from just spotting you by chance.  I knew about this place for a few months, but didn’t need to make contact.”

James took a sip of his mocha, trying to not let it show on his face that he was pretty sure Harlan was leaving something out of that explanation.  But… if they’d known for months, and done nothing, that was something at least.  Something good or bad, he couldn’t say, but something.  “So, you want to know where your people are.”  He said.  “And in exchange… what?  Aside from you collecting them.”

“We’ll collect them if there’s a problem.”  Harlan stated.  “And in exchange… well.  I can give you a weak context or two.  Or a few seed rounds, if you’re going that way.  But really, I was just going to owe you one.”

“Contexts?”  James shot the message silently to Alanna.

“I think they mean dungeons.”  Alanna sent back.  “But that’s kinda huge.  Except, do we even care?  We’ve got six of them already, and we don’t have the people to explore them already.”

James suppressed a nod as he sent back.  “I think they mean the bullets when they say ‘seed rounds’, which… note that.  Pass it on to Reed.”

“Done.”

“I was gonna ask.  Are you being quiet because you’ve got comms open?”

“Yeah.  Nate says wait on it.”  Alanna told him through their shared thoughts.  “Set up a secondary meeting.  They’ll send a rogue to do a real negotiation and get what extra they can out of them.”

“Do I tell Harlan what’s going on in Alaska?  The ecoterrorists, the New York, any of that?”  James inquired.  “I feel like… hang on.”  He snapped back to the physical world, and met Harlan’s eyes.

They were staring at him curiously.  “You need a minute?”  They asked.

“No, just thinking.”  James said honestly.  “Alright.  I think we can make a trade.  Someone who actually has that job will talk to you, though.  You got a phone number we can call you at?”

Harlan just smirked.  “I’ll be back here in a week.  Meet me.  I don’t use agents.  Or phones.”

“Ooooooof course not.”  Alanna scoffed.

“Yeah,” James added with false enthusiasm, “how will we form a working relationship if we can’t call you at random times?”

Harlan stood, and their tiger stood with them, the massive form of fur and muscle reminding the cafe that there was a predator among them as it rose alongside its master.  “Oh,” they said, “you won’t.  Don’t misunderstand me, I’m willing to work with you, paladin.”  They said James’ semi-joking title without a hint of irony.  “But I don’t think you’ll be willing to work with us.”

They gave a polite nod to Alanna, who didn’t return it, and a glance down at Auberdeen, who had her plate of mostly eaten dog cake held close in her paws as she watched the tiger move.  Then Harlan, moving like they didn’t have holes in their boots from where James stapled them to the sidewalk twenty minutes ago, walked out the back door of the cafe.  They waved a hand behind them as they did so, and the tiger folded up in a snarl of colored liquid, folding around the skin of their wrist and flowing like ink until, presumably, a tattoo was remade on Harlan’s covered arm.

Then they placed a hand on the railing that separated the cafe’s back patio from the pond below, hauled themselves over, and threw their form into the night.  Watching carefully, James saw a ripple in the air as they fell, and then they were gone.

“So.”  He said to Alanna, leaning over to bump elbows with his partner.  “I’ve got something important to ask.”

“Oh yeah?”  She said, wincing as James nudged part of her that had been scraped up when Harlan threw her into the concrete ground.

He nodded imperiously.  “Yeah.  I think Arrush has a crush on me, and I need to talk about what to do about that.”

Alanna slowly stood up, circled around the table, sat in the chair Harlan had just been in, ignored the pair of Order members who ran past on the cafe’s back patio, folded her hands, and fixed James with a steady gaze.  “I don’t think,” Alanna said slowly, “that should really be your highest priority right now.”

“I know, right?!”  James spread his hands in an agreeing gesture.  “I don’t really think a new relationship should be Arrush’s highest priority either.  He needs therapy first.  But it’s been bothering me.”

“No, James.”  Alanna flicked her eyes upward as her patience thinned.  “What just happened?  What was that?”

James sighed.  “Alright, fine.  Just trying to be fun.”  He flashed a grin at her then let his voice grow serious.  “So, that was several things.  One: Harlan is like us.  In a lot of ways.  Multiple dungeons, obviously.  But also… they clearly act on a lot of different things.  I think they might be closer to the Order than we expected.”  He paused, then looped himself in on the call Alanna had going with Nate so he could include their intelligence chef in the conversation.  “You get that?”  James asked.

“Yeah, but this is cleaner.  Go on.”  Nate’s voice came through the line to both of them.

“I’m gonna talk like this.”  James sent without speaking.  “Because I just realized, that if I were Harlan, I wouldn’t leave it to chance that I’d ‘bump into us’ again.”

“You think we’re bugged?”  Alanna asked back in the same way, talking through the connection.

“You probably aren’t.”  Nate said, the poor guy having to use his real voice.  “But it’s a good practice.”

James nodded, resolving to check his pockets before he went anywhere near his apartment or the Lair again.  “Right.  Anyway.  I think Harlan’s their version of me.”

“Aw hell.”  Nate drawled out.  “You think they sent ‘em in to provoke a response?  Just cause some chaos and hope they come out on top?”

James blinked, and mouthed a confused questioning word to Alanna as he replied.  “Wait, is that what you think I do?  Just cause problems on purpose?”

“Yes.”

“Okay ow.”  James said, ignoring Alanna’s cracked grin across the table from him that she smothered with her coffee cup.  “But also sure.  But also, Nate, you think this is a good idea?”

“It’s a lead.”  Nate’s shrug was almost audible over the phone call.  “We can at least fill in the picture.”

James gave a nod, a tight frown on his lips.  “And I doubt this is the last time we’re going to encounter Harlan.”  He said glumly.

“They’re willing to work with us.”  Alanna reminded James.  “But not the other way around?”

“I’m just gonna go out on a limb and assume that Harlan is being self-deprecating about how much collateral damage they cause.  They are the kind of people who apparently take jobs with ecoterrorists.”  James flicked his eyes over to where Nate would be sitting if he were actually present, before remembering how phone calls worked.  The skulljacks removed some barriers, but they also blurred lines and often left James nodding at people who couldn’t see more often than he did when he used a cell phone.  “Nate, you got any insight on that?”

“It’s likely worse than you think.  They’re probably just killers.  But they’re killers that must have a huge amount of trust, because if they keep wiping their own memories, and haven’t self-destructed yet…” Nate paused, and James heard him speak to someone outside the call, muffled words filling his head while he and Alanna took synchronized sips of lukewarm drinks.  “They’re running ops like this off a spreadsheet.”  Nate reminded them.  “Harlan’s redlining themself.  They probably all are.  Hell, they might have been for a long time.  If you want my guess?  They already self-destructed a long time ago, and everything they’re doing is ripples and shadows.”

“And car bombs.”  James reminded them.

“Hey, are we gonna ignore that Harlan gets a kill counter on their subordinates?”  Alanna asked.

Nate snorted.  “We’ve got a record of the whole conversation.  We’re going over it now for anything that’s a potential power.  Also add that they appear to be able to teleport.”

James watched the two Order knights come in through the back patio, out of breath and looking unhappy.  “Yeah, I’m getting that impression.”  He said.  “Alright.  You need us for anything?  We were on a date.”  He glanced at his partner.  “Unless Alanna needs medical attention now.”

“I’m fine.”  Alanna dismissed him as Nate said something quick and hung up on them.  “Scraped the hell out of my arm though.”

James winced as his partner turned to show off her bicep, the skin covered in an angry red nest of scratches. “Yikes!”  He hissed out.  “You wanna head back and get something for that?”

Alanna just snorted at him, a smug smile creeping in.  “Nah, I’m fine.  I’ve got a few things making me bulletproof, after all.  This is nothing.”

“I’ve seen your character sheet, you don’t heal any faster than a normal person.”  James folded his arms at her.  “But seriously, you okay?”

“Yeah.”  Alanna poked her arm and winced.  “Sorta.  Harlan fucking went right through us, huh?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“Do you… do you think we would have actually survived, if that were a real fight?”

“Oh, probably.”  James tossed a hand up next to his head, spreading his fingers idly.  “We’re tough.  But also, yeah, they were… way better at this than we were.  More focused. Or… no, like they do this all the time.”

“We get in combat all the time.”

James shook his head.  “Not with other humans we don’t.  Especially not with other delvers.”

There was a long pause where the only sound was the hiss of the espresso machine behind the counter and the chatter of conversation that was rising back up around them.  And then Alanna took a breath and looked away.  “We’re gonna have to do this more, aren’t we?  Get used to fighting people?”

“Maybe we can get pointers from Harlan when we absorb their group.”  James quipped.

Alanna snapped her head back around to give him an open mouthed stare.  “Seriously?”

“Look, all I’ve got to measure this by is precedent.”  James told her.  “And so far…”

“Dammit.  Well fuck it, whatever.  Maybe I can get a tiger tattoo.”  Alanna leaned back in her chair.  “You know, I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo, now that I have the money for it?”

James raised his eyebrows, secretly grateful for the shift back to casual conversation.  He could only take so much excitement before he got really tired.  “I kinda knew that, from, you know, being you sometimes.  But what’re you thinking?”

“I dunno!  Do we have, like, a logo?”  She asked, drumming her fingers on the table.  “Like the Order.  Do we have a flag?  We should have a logo or a flag.  Part of me was thinking of getting a camraconda, like on my bicep,” she traced a line with her finger over where she’d been slammed into the concrete outside, “but that’s sorta weird, since they’re people.  But they’re also adorable.”

“It’s true.”  James nodded.  “You know it doesn’t have to be a dungeon tattoo, right?”

“Well yeah, but the dungeons are cool.”  Alanna countered without even considering her words.  “What would you suggest then?”

“A… camraconda.”  James faltered and then latched onto the first thing his brain gave him.  “Wait fuck no.”

“See?!”

“Yeah, it’s hard to top that.”  He chuckled.  “Speaking of, camraconda.”  James pointed a finger off his raised cup toward the front door as a couple people approached, one of them the serpentine form of a camraconda.  Their features resolved as the human pulled the door open and let Frequency-Of-Sunlight into the cafe, Deb following after her partner.  James gave a friendly wave, and got a smile back from Deb, but they otherwise didn’t interrupt each other’s date nights.  “Hey, actually, uh… oh wow, just had a thought.  What would have happened if Harlan had run into them and not us?”  He asked Alanna.

She paused and leaned back, placing her fingertips on the edge of the table as she did so.  “Huh.  Guess it depends on if Harlan was telling the truth about just wanting to talk.  And I guess also if they could slip Sunny’s basilisk impression.”

“You know what I miss?”  James suddenly asked quietly.

“Don’t you fucking dare say life before magic.”  Alanna glared at him.

He made a derisive grunting noise.  “Heck no.”  James said with a shake of his head.  “But I do miss when it was… small, I guess.  When it was a few of us, and a few staplers between us and making rent.  It was simpler, and easier, and I felt like I was getting a handle on it.  And now?  Now…”

“Now we’ve got people counting on us.”  Alanna said softly, reaching out a hand that her boyfriend met with his own.  “Now we can be counted on.  I know I’m wrong about a lot of shit, man, but let me be right about this one.  You’re doing a good job.  You make the world better.  You can be confused, fuck knows I am, but don’t doubt yourself, okay?”

“Heh.  Yeah, okay.”  James smiled back at her, trying and failing to keep the blush off his cheeks.  “So, what now?”

“Now we get a fruit tart.”  Alanna declared.  “Because I just watched Deb get a fruit tart, and it looks delicious.  Then we blip over to the Lair and let Nate do his thing checking us for spyware.  Then… I dunno, wanna go on a delve?”

“What, while Anesh is asleep?”  James placed a hand on his chest.  “Seems rude to exclude him.”

“First of all, Anesh doesn’t get into delving like we do, and you know it.  He’s adorable, but he hates fighting.”

“I hate fighting!”  James protested.

Alanna scoffed at him.  “You love fighting, when it’s against mindless monsters.”  She informed him.  “And we’re both jazzed up on adrenaline, so it’s either go challenge a dungeon, or have sex, and I don’t think we wanna wake Anesh up.  He needs to sleep better.”

“Okay, first off…” James held up a finger like he was going to start counting, but failed to think of any good points.  “No, I had a… oh!  There’s no dungeons even open right now.  Except Clutter Ascent?  Who is our friend, not a place we go to get in fights.”

“Dang, you’re right.”  Alanna snapped her fingers.  “Welp.  Only one option then.”  She gave James an impish grin.

He gave an embarrassed smile back.  “Alright, except no, because I am… not feeling great after that.”  James admitted.  “I dunno.  Something feels wrong.  I feel wrong.  I’d rather just hang out for a bit?”

“Of course.”  Alanna said instantly, her smile not going away, but shifting to something a little more reassuring as she sent the words to James instantly.  Alongside the simpler communication protocol, she also reached out over the network connection between their minds, and brushed against James with how she was feeling.  It was hard to pick up the trick; skulljacks really wanted you to just blend your minds into a single blob.  But Alanna had been doing this with Anesh and James for months now, and they had a lot of practice with each other.  Both using the tools, and knowing how they felt.  Right now, she knew without using her empathy power that James would be feeling anxiety about saying ‘no’, because that’s who James was.  So she touched on his mind with the sensation of being in love with him, and being completely fine drinking coffee and wondering how long until someone asked them about the tiger.

Across the table, James blinked, his smile turning soft as he ducked his head and felt his eyes water slightly.  “Thanks.”  He mumbled out loud.

“No problem.”  Alanna said, with total honesty.  “Anyway!  What were we talking about?  You getting a tattoo?”

James pressed his fingertips together.  “You getting a tattoo.  I don’t want a… do I want a tattoo?  I mean, now we know magic tattoos are an option…”

“You could get a camraconda?”  Alanna suggested.

“I could absolutely… hang on, Nate’s calling me back.”  James cut himself off and directed his thoughts to hit the mental button that answered his phone, Bluetooth connection still connected to his skulljack.  “Nate.  What’s up?”

Nate’s voice from the other end of the line sounded exceedingly annoyed.  “What did Harlan look like?”  He demanded abruptly.

James and Alanna shared a raised eyebrow look before James tilted his head to answer.  “Uh… a little short.  Shorter than me.  Way shorter than Alanna.  Bald, I think?  Or at least, very short hair.  Why?”

“Do they have a gender?  Ethnicity maybe?  Eye color?  Anything like that?”  Nate’s tone wasn’t frantic exactly, but it did have the feeling of a man who had just learned something that he hated.

“They have a turtleneck?”  James gave a snarky answer without really meaning to.

“And, hey!  Why would I look deep into someone’s eyes when they’re trying to beat the shit out of me?”  Alanna asked.

Biting his lip, James turned away.  “Ah.”  He sent back.  “I kinda do that with Anesh sometimes, when we’re fencing?”

Alanna instantly redid her position.  “Okay, yeah, but Anesh has cute eyes.  That just makes sense.  I mean, you know, Harlan.”

“People, focus.”  Nate snapped.  “What is Harlan?”

That felt like a loaded question.  “This feels like a loaded question.”  James told Nate.  “Obviously there’s something going on, now that you’ve pointed it out, yes.  But I’m not sure it changes anything about their character.  They didn’t come across like Lloyd or the Old Gun where they were constantly shifting between things and hard to pin down; this is more… I dunno, standard information lockout?”

“That shouldn’t be standard.  Next time you see them, get Planner or someone who can handle it in on it.”  Nate hung up, leaving them back on their constantly interrupted date without another word.

James sighed and leaned back in his chair.  “Planner hates this kind of thing.”  He idly stated.

Alanna nodded.  “Yeah, well, we’ve got a finite number of infomorphs that are really dangerous.”

“Planner isn’t dangerous, unless you’re going to be late for something important.”  James snorted.  “Unless you just mean, like, strong because they’re distributed.  Which I agree with.  Have you noticed that the assignments seem to have… I mean, it’s not a ‘cap’ exactly, but their growth slows way down unless they split off to more people?  But at the same time, that distribution to new minds isn’t an absolute part of a life cycle or anything.”

“Do they even have a life cycle?”  Alanna raised her eyebrows as James hit her with the thought.  “Like, do you think they have lifespans?  Or are they… you know… tethered to us in every way that matters?”

“I hope it’s that one!”  James said quickly.

He was going to say more, as his brain spun up to have big thoughts about the nature of symbiosis and the goal of preventing death wherever possible. But he was interrupted by a small, high pitched voice near his elbow.  “‘Scuse me!” James looked down to see a blonde haired little girl standing by their table, looking at him with the kind of expression kids got when they weren’t afraid of anything.  “Can I pet your dog?”  The little girl asked him.

James glanced around, and spotted a man around his age at a table nearby, watching carefully.  He gave the apparent father a polite nod, getting one back in return, and then turned back to the kid.  “It’s okay with me if it’s okay with Auberdeen.”  He said.  “You should ask her, but I think she’ll say yes.”  James turned his smile down to where the ball of white fur was slowly edging closer to her source of pets.

The girl just stared at him, until it started to get a little awkward, and James glanced over at Alanna.  Then his partner slapped herself on the forehead and leaned over to poke a finger into James cheek.  “Say it out loud you dingus.”  She told him.

“Oh!”  James repeated the forehead slap, before repeating his words, and the girl’s smile came back as she repeated her question to Auberdeen and got a nod and a friendly headbutt in response.

For all that the dog was approaching or equal to human level intelligence in several areas, Auberdeen was still a dog who loved her pets.  Not that she had a shortage of affection from the people she lived with; Rufus especially when he was around the apartment would often nap with the big dog and give her gentle scritches with his multitude of legs.  But that didn’t stop Auberdeen from acting like she’d never had her ears scratched in her entire life every time she met someone new.

It was after a couple minutes of childish laughter and pets that the girl’s father came over to their table.  “Alright Alley, time to get going.”  He glanced up at James and Alanna.  “Thanks.  She’s had a hard week.”  He said to them quietly.

“No problem.”  James said.  “Auberdeen loves the attention anyway.”

“Uh… if you don’t mind my asking…” The man said, looking around like he was about to say something forbidden.  “What was up with the tiger?”

“What about the tiger?”

The man dipped his head forward, eyes narrowed and mouth partly open.  “What do you mean what do I mean about the tiger?”  He asked incredulously.

“I mean, if the kid wants to pet the tiger, I think Harlan’ll be back in a few days and we can ask them.”

Alanna jumped in.  “James no!”  She said in a rapid burst of words.

“The tiger was more friendly than Harlan was!  The tiger didn’t try to hit me with a chair!”  He protested.  Then remembered there was a human asking him a question that was uninitiated into his brand of weird humor and weirder magic.  “Sorry,” he said to the father, “the tiger’s a magical tattoo or something.  I have no idea what’s up with it.  We’re just kind of muddling through this nonsense.”

“Sure.  Sure.”  The guy nodded, not really processing or believing James at all.  “Alright, well, thanks for letting Alley pet the dog.  We’ve gotta get going kiddo.”

“Dad, I wanna pet the snake first!”  She said, pointing over at the far side of the cafe, and getting a very tired look from her father.

James came to the man’s rescue.  He hadn’t exactly looked to James for help, but this was a great opportunity to solve two problems at once.  “The big snake over there?”  He said, in a conspiratorial whisper to the young girl, who nodded at him excitedly.  “Oooh, she’s on a date right now.  It’d be rude to interrupt, right?”

“Right!”  The young girl nodded vigorously.  “Dad!  Let’s go find more dogs!”

“Thanks.”  The man mouthed at James as he let his daughter tug his hand out the door.

“That was pleasant.”  James sighed as he leaned back again.  He and Alanna just sat for a little while, letting their respective thoughts meander while they watched the cafe.  It was… normal, in a way.  Sure, there was a camraconda here, and there’d been a tiger.  But… people walking in now had no idea that the world had been briefly chaotic here.  These were just normal people getting coffee, doing homework, playing cards, arguing about superhero movies, whatever.  The building was kinda chilly, despite the warm orange tinted lights.  The smell of brewing coffee and the constant hiss of the espresso machine backed the scene.

And James just felt… pretty good.  He wasn’t in danger right now, he didn’t have anything he needed to do on a pressing timeline.  The only thing that really needed his attention was the task of relaxing, and making sure that he was doing okay.

And, to his surprise, he found that he was.

“I think,” he told Alanna suddenly, “that I should contact Malcom.”  The FBI agent.  Or deputy director of the Weirdness Department.  Whatever.  “I’ll run it by Nate when I get back to the Lair and he’s in a better mood from having a gap in his conspiracy board, but I think we should just drop the intel we’ve got on them, and back off.  If we can get Harlan to pull their people out, we drastically cut down on how dangerous the Priority Earth people are, right?  And… I dunno, I’m tired of this crap.  I wanna go back to the magic stuff now, not the getting shot stuff.”

“Oh yeah!  How’s your neck feeling?”  Alanna asked as she remembered James’ injury.

“It hurts!”  He cheerfully told her.  “More, now, since Harlan fucking punched me there.  But I’ve had worse.  I got shot in the heart before, and walked it off.  This’ll be nothing.”  He gave a single huff of laughter, which he refused to admit was mostly empty bravado.  “Honestly, I’m right there with you on the dungeon thing.”  He told Alanna.  “I can’t wait to just do a simple delve again.”

“We could always just teleport into somewhere.”  She offered.  Then relented almost instantly.  “Not really.  I don’t think I’ve ever gone in, but going out is gross enough.”

“Yeah, going in also does the nausea thing.”  James confirmed with a nod.  “Except way worse.  It’s why we’re still not doing a permanent Officium Mundi base yet.  Too hard to resupply or reinforce, and just not worth it since we already have telepad safety nets.”  He shrugged.  “So, Climb expedition tomorrow maybe?  Or we could go liberate more people from the Akashic Sewer?  I’m feeling better now, I’m ready to punch some stuff!”

Alanna gave a bellowing laugh that got half the cafe looking over her direction.  “Yeah, okay!”  She said eagerly.  “As soon as you do your FBI informant chores, we’ll go to Australia and punch the snow.”

“God I love our jobs.”  James grinned.  “Oh, do you wanna head back?  Or are we hanging out here a while longer?”  He asked.

“Well, I’m not tired.”  Alanna said.  “Also, I had an important question.”

“Oh yeah?”

“So, you and Arrush?”  She raised her eyebrows at him.

“Oh no.”

Alanna’s grin took on a predatory quality, if predators wrote ship fic.  “I just didn’t expect that!”  She said.  “I mean, I kinda knew the big guy liked you.  He and Keeka really like you, you know.  But I didn’t think you’d feel the same way!”

James wobbled on hand over the table.  “I mean I don’t know if I do?”  He said.

“James, if you didn’t feel something, you’d just tell him no and move on.”  Alanna said, folding her arms on her chest.  “I dunno, I think it’s kinda cute.  But I also get why you’re worried, I think?”

“Yeah, I’m…” James tried to think of how to express what he was feeling.  “It’s because he’s so… new, I guess?  Young doesn’t feel like the right word.  But he is young, technically.  How old are they, really, Alanna?  A few years at most?  That’s… eugh.  I mean, I get that the whole ‘age of consent’ thing doesn’t work properly when you’ve got manufactured people that are spawned in adulthood or whatever, but wow does that sentence have a lot of the whole I’m-not-underage-I’m-an-eight-thousand-year-old-god-that-looks-like-a-little-girl excuse, doesn't it.”

“You aren’t allowed to use that many hyphens in a sentence.”  Alanna rolled her eyes.  “Also you aren’t living in an anime.”

“Are you fucking sure?!”  James asked with an unexpected laugh slipping out.  “Because last time I checked, half my friends are either mech pilots or have personal ghosts that can manifest to fight for them.”

“Is that… a JoJo’s thing?”  Alanna looked at him suspiciously before James nodded sheepishly.  “I knew it.  Also the mech pilot thing doesn’t count, because Dave isn’t a traumatized teenager or whatever.”

“Not every mecha anime is Evangelion.”  James pointed out.  Then he thought about it.  “Or, I guess, half the Gundum series.  Or… Eureka Seven?  How many mecha anime do I know?  And why do all of them use traumatized child soldiers?  Let’s play this game.”

“And you’re sidetracking us.  Do you like Arrush?”  Alanna demanded.

“I mean… yes?”  James shrugged.  “But like… my original point isn’t wrong!  The one from earlier, when I was trying to slip it in at a weird time.  I dunno how to handle him being new, but I do know that if he’s gonna be getting into any new relationship, he should be in a mentally healthy place first, you know?  I don’t wanna be someone he just latched onto because I was a little nice and he’s been through a lot of trauma.”  James trailed off, looking out the window with a sigh.

Alanna stared at him with an incredulous look before realizing he wasn’t going to be looking back her way anytime soon.  “You really need to stop being so down on yourself.”  She told her partner.  “You think the only reason someone would like you is if you took advantage of them or something?”

“I… well when you say it like that, it’s stupid!”  James admitted, throwing his hands up.

“Yeah, it is!”

“So I should stop being stupid!”

“Yeah, you should!”

“Alright!”

“Fine!”

“Woof!” Auberdeen interjected.

“Right yes, that too, thank you.”  Alanna said.  “Auberdeen also thinks you should stop being so self-depreciating.”

James let out a burst of laughter, shaking his head with a smile as he felt the last of any sort of tension drain out of his chest.  “Ahhhh, I should talk to Arrush, shouldn’t I?”

“Probably.”  Alanna nodded.  “Oh!  And tell me if you guys get up to anything sexy!  For… personal reasons!”

“This, right here?  This is why it’s weird that you’re so sheepish about people having crushes on you.”  James pointed out.  “You are like some kind of sexually confident hurricane in every other situation.  Actually!  Tell you what!  I’ll talk to Arrush, if you talk to Sarah!”

“Oh fuck.”  Alanna winced as James caught her off guard.  “I… could do that.”  She seemed apprehensive.  “But only if you won’t get mad when I screw everything up.”

James reached over and grabbed one of her hands in his own, squeezing it tightly.  “Hey,” he said, “you know that won’t happen.  And if it does, we’ll fix it.  That’s what we do.  We fix things.”  He ignored Alanna’s uttered ‘bah’ and met her eyes with an easy smile.  “You know Anesh and I love you, and we’re not going anywhere.  There’s nothing to worry about, it’s okay to take a little risk, and I just realized I’m also talking to myself aren’t I?  Dammit.”  He gnawed on his lip trying to smother his laugh as Alanna let hers out without hesitation.  “Alright, fine!  We’re both awkward idiots, aren’t we!”

“You know, some people have trouble meeting one awkward idiot that meshes well with them, and we each got two.  How lucky is that?”  Alanna asked in a contemplative tone.

“Pretty lucky.”  James agreed easily.  “Now.  Wanna head back and start working out where we’re going tomorrow?  I wanna find some new magic we can use to complicate the evolving plans for our arcology.”

“Your arcology.”  Alanna reminded him.

James just smiled and shook his head.  Maybe it was his idea, originally.  But it wasn’t his, any more than the Order was his.  He was a part of it, he brought back new wonders for it to play with, he helped protect it and build it.  But it wasn’t his.  It wasn’t anyone’s, really.  It was for everybody, everywhere.

Hell, even Harlan would be welcome in their utopia, when it was open for business.

Especially if they brought the tiger along.