Chapter 64: Steel

I woke to an unfamiliar smell. Rich, savory, just a little spicy.

I drew in a deep breath. My lips curled into a smile.

My eyes flew open and I staggered out of bed. My first thought was that the next thing Third Eye had begun to subject me to was olfactory hallucinations. Or, looking at it another way, it had started letting me smell things from another reality. Third Nose? I guess it would be second but it didn’t have the right ring to it.

My second thought was that if it had, I wondered how long it would take to go from tantalizing to frustrating.

My third thought was to realize, as I stumbled past the room divider, that Lena’s bed was empty – worrying – and made – unimaginable.

Maybe I’d slept crazy late? Had I lost time while I was sleeping, too? Or just been so worn out, physically and emotionally, by the construction site, that I slept in?

I scooped up my phone and checked. Assuming it reported truthfully, which I no longer did, it was going on eight. Normal wakeup time these days.

I tucked the phone into a pajama pocket and padded out of the bedroom.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Lena called. “I’m almost done here.”

I peered at the dark interior of our microwave. Had the bulb burned out? The bulb wasn’t part of the cooking process, was it? “Done with what?”

Instead of answering, she said, “Grab the hot pad, would you?”

I did.

She turned around and deposited a pan on top of it. It contained an omelet.

Let me clarify.

It contained an omelet. Not scrambled eggs. Not scrambled eggs with some leftover taco cheese sprinkled haphazardly on top.

An omelet. Egg, cheese, flakes of thyme, and I was pretty sure mushrooms. And, from the smell of it, seasoning. Folded over and only a little overcooked on one side.

The source of the aroma I’d woken up to.

“Oh God,” I said.

Lena narrowed her eyes. “Geez. At least taste it first.”

“Nope, it’s too late.” I shuddered. “I’ve stumbled into a parallel universe.”

She stuck her tongue out. “Come on, I’ve definitely cooked breakfast before. At least three times since I moved in.”

“You’ve heated,” I said. “Same as me.”

She thrust her jaw forward. “Cooked.”

“Seriously, this smells great,” I said. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, well.” She scratched the back of her neck. “Sounded like you had a shit day yesterday.”

“This one’s off to a better start.” I got out some plates. Lena cut the omelet in half and slid it onto them.

We dug in. Frankly, I thought she’d used too much salt, probably not enough pepper – although maybe the right amount for the two of us –, and way too many mushrooms. The egg taste disappeared into the rest of the mix.

I savored every bite.

I set my fork down. “That was awesome.”

“You don’t have to be sarcastic about it.” Lena stabbed her last bite and shoveled it into her mouth. “I looked up the recipe and everything.”

“I’m not,” I said. “When I make breakfast, I usually just crack the eggs and stir ‘em up. I think it’s really cool that you tried a little extra.”

“Don’t get used to it.” She nudged her plate with two fingers. “It came out good, then?”

“Didn’t you think so?”

“Little heavy on the salt,” she said.

“A little salt never hurt anybody, unless they had a coronary from it.” I grinned. “When did you get the mushrooms?”

“Last night, same time I stocked back up on eggs,” she said. “After I got my ass kicked by that Matt guy, and you hadn’t called, I was walking past King Sooper and I just... figured I’d do something that felt productive.”

“Quest complete,” I said.

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She brightened. “I better get a level out of it!”

“You might get two,” I said. “When you first start grinding a skill, it shoots right up.”

“I wouldn’t know. Who’s got time for MMOs?” She tossed off the line, but I realized I’d said something wrong because all of a sudden, her smile turned brittle.

She grabbed the pan and dishes and dumped them in the kitchen sink. If she’d run the water and started scrubbing with our smiley-face dish wand, I really would have started to worry I’d stumbled into a parallel universe.

Instead, she stepped around the counter and headed for the bedroom.

I took Lena’s place behind the counter. Might as well knock out the dishes while she got dressed. I’d lost track of whose turn it was, but it only seemed fair after she’d made breakfast for once.

While I scrubbed, I tried to understand what was going through her head.

What about this morning’s trip? She’d implied we’d be scouting again, but refused to say where. Or why she hadn’t been willing to go there until we agreed to sit down and hash out all our shit. Was the breakfast an attempt to butter me up so I’d go along with her trip, or to make up for her expectation that the trip would suck?

Maybe the key lay in what she’d said about the mushrooms. She’d wanted to feel productive. I could tell her lack of Third Eye progress was eating at her. Especially after she’d had to admit her Custom Personification to Erin. Losing a PVP fight to Matt must’ve made it worse. Did she want to wrest a modicum of control over her life by doing her own cooking?

I supposed it was possible she really did just feel bad for the bizarre experience I’d had the previous evening. We did nice things for each other, occasionally, especially when one of us seemed down.

Less than we used to. Less than we should.

“You didn’t have to do those right now,” she said.

“It almost sounds like you’re saying I didn’t have to do them.” The egg and cheese had really stuck to the pan. Cooked on max temp, I bet. I leaned forward to scrub it out. “I’d rather finish them now so they’re not waiting for us when we get back.”

“Fine. Just don’t take too long.”

“I’ll get dressed right after this.” The pan looked more clean then less. I rinsed the soap off, put it in the rack, and turned.

I’d planned to say something, but I forgot what.

Lena had dressed for cold weather. Striped leggings poking out of holy jeans, her only pair of thick socks – a novelty Christmas set she got from her parents three years ago –, a red polyester weave cap, and a black thrift store sweater only two sizes too big for her. She had more trouble finding used clothes than me.

But two other things on top of that ensemble:

On her nose, her first generation Google Glass, which she’d never worn on a scouting trip before.

Around her neck, draped over her sweater, her amulet. Ditto.

Individually, they both should’ve looked ridiculous on top of normal – for her – modern clothes. A little bit of sci-fi from a future people were too uncomfortable with to embrace. A little bit of fantasy from a past that never was.

I swallowed. I stared.

“I don’t care if it looks stupid,” she said.

“Doesn’t.” I sounded like an idiot. “I mean. You make it work.”

She looked away. I didn’t think she believed me, but I was telling the whole truth and nothing but. Her accessories transformed her winter clothes into armor. No Third Eye required. Somehow, I knew the app would translate them the same way. I’d surely check later in the course of our scouting, but I didn’t have to.

“This is it for me,” she said.

I shook myself out of my daze and rounded the counter. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“For Third Eye,” she said. “Either this works and I feel like an idiot for putting it off, or I’m out of the game.”

I frowned. “You think you’re going to fall into the bottom 1%?”

“Nah. Not immediately. And whether I do or not, I’ll still go with you if you want to scout. I guess I’ll scan stuff for as long as my beta access lasts, but I’m not collecting anything else. There’s no point in me getting Materials instead of you. There’s not much point in you going with me, although it sounds like Donica isn’t any better. You should try to go with Erin and her friends.”

“I’d rather go with you.” I reached out to her.

Unlike last night, she looked at my hand and shook her head. “I already said I’d tag along. But I’m not gonna be a drain on the real players anymore.”

A line like that would normally have made me grab her hands at the very least, no matter how she responded to my offered touch. This morning, though, she didn’t really sound upset.

Resigned? Accepting? I couldn’t tell, and it made me hesitate.

Still, I said, “I’ve never thought you were a drain.”

“I know.” She closed her eyes and smiled. “Thanks for that.”

“For not having a completely batshit take? You’re welcome, I guess.”

I managed to make her chuckle. She said, “Last night you told me you didn’t want to stop playing because you didn’t want to feel powerless. Every Material I take, every XP I gain instead of you, pushes you closer to that. And if you actually needed power? For the game, or for something real, if there is something real? I can’t do shit.”

“You can watch my back,” I said. “You can spot things I’d miss. Hell. What about the video? Where’s it at, now?”

“Crossed a hundred thousand last night. I checked before you got home. Some of the comments are from people who don’t even play. They just think it looks cool.”

“Exactly! It does. You do.” I smiled. “You think it would’ve gone anywhere if it was just my skinny ass doing tricks?”

She crossed her arms over her amulet. “So I’m the eye candy, now?”

If she hadn’t seemed so serious, I’d have told her she pulled it off beautifully. That would just annoy her, though. Instead, I said, “You’re the Magnificent Ashbird.”

“My character is the Magnificent Ashbird.” Slowly, her arms fell to her sides. She sucked in a long, deep breath and held it. She exhaled. “I’m just Lena.”

I smiled. “That’s plenty.”

“Yeah?” I thought she might avert her eyes. Instead, she looked me up and down and her gaze ended up locked with mine.

I’d seen her look angrier, fiercer, sadder. She didn’t seem any of those things now, except maybe a hint of the last.

Her expression this morning, like her tone, like the way her accessories armored her, was something else. Something new. If I could collect her as a Material in that moment, I knew she wouldn’t be Fire; she’d be Iron, and only because Steel wasn’t on the menu.

I blinked first. Who wouldn’t?

“I’m glad you think so,” she said, “even if I don’t get it. But one way or another, it’s not gonna matter after this morning.”

I cleared my throat. “Are you going to tell me where we’re headed?”

For a minute, I thought she would. Then she leaned forward and hid her steel behind a familiar grin. “And spoil the surprise? Couldn’t be me.”