Chapter 69: Nice

For the second time in as many days, I was, technically, breaking the law.

Well, was I?

I didn’t know if RTD regulations were laws or just rules.

And I didn’t know if Bernie counted as a pet we weren’t supposed to bring onto the bus with us. They had provisions for service animals. Did a familiar count?

Without Third Eye, he was an oversized dragon plushie occupying about as much of Lena’s seat as she did. Some people might roll their eyes at a grown woman carrying something like that around, but fuck those people. The important thing was that nobody would call it a pet.

Through Third Eye, he sprawled across her lap and curled around her with his head resting on her shoulder. His tail covered most of my lap and draped down onto the floor.

I could hear his breathing, a susurration below the hum of the bus’s engine. Whether that came from him or my head or clever use of the sound systems on my and Lena’s phones, I didn’t know and didn’t know how to determine.

I felt like I could feel the weight on my legs, but not nearly as much as I had to assume he should weigh. Nor had Lena struggled to carry him while we staggered out of the apartment building and back to the bus stop.

Which meant – what?

I didn’t know.

Which was a running theme.

I felt like I should panic.

What had happened in that apartment represented an escalation. More concrete than anything Donica or I experienced at the construction site, less ambiguous than Miguel getting hurt in the tunnel.

Both Lena and I had felt the physical reality of Third Eye phenomena. Third Eye Productions had reached into either Lena’s mind or her past to create her Realm. And we’d emerged with a physical artifact. Bernie – the plushie Bernie – remained clutched in Lena’s arms, just as his Third Eye version draped across both of us.

So why didn’t I find myself hyperventilating? Why didn’t I flinch away from the plushie, grip the handle on the bus, shrink into my seat like I had in the Yukon the night before?

I didn’t have an answer, and none came to me while we got off the bus to board the light rail. Our luck with timing had run out; the doors on a northbound train closed before we could cross the station.

I brushed snow off a bench so we could sit down. The clouds overhead threatened to break any minute now, but we were still dealing with only the dusting from the morning.

I didn’t feel the slightest bit cold, and that should have scared me, too.

“Do you want to talk about what happened back there?” I asked.

“Not really.” Lena perched her chin on the top of Bernie’s head. It made her smile.

There was my answer. No matter how much I should, I couldn’t panic about what happened. Couldn’t resent it. Could barely fear it.

Third Eye had put that smile on Lena’s face.

She sighed. “We’ve gotta.”

“Yeah.”

I thought we might have a moment alone to do so, but another bus pulled in, and five more people spilled out into Southmoor station. Four of them ignored us. The fifth, a little boy whose mom had a Micro Center bag slung from her arm – lucky kid! – kept glancing our way.

Lena noticed and waved.

The kid grinned. “Cool dragon.”

“Thanks.” Lena held Bernie up. “He sure is.”

The kid’s mom tugged him closer and they started chatting about whatever it was they’d bought.

Lena and I exchanged glances.

That kid had seen Bernie. His plushie version wasn’t just in our heads. We really had gone in and picked up a physical object that seemed like it could only have been placed there by Third Eye.

“So that doesn’t make this any less weird,” Lena muttered.

“Nope,” I said. “Does that mean we technically...”

I glanced at the other people. I didn’t want to say “stole” in front of them.

Lena picked up on what I was putting down anyway.

“He’s my stuffed toy.” She pushed her smart glasses up onto her forehead and pointed to one of the patches sewn on plushie-Bernie’s back. “See how shitty the sewing job is here? That’s from when my dad was trying to teach me to do it.”

I chuckled. “Looks like you were a natural.”

She shot me a look.

Through Third Eye, I heard Bernie hiss at me.

I had a feeling I was going to be outnumbered from here on out.

Another thing I should’ve worried about, but Lena never stopped smiling and I was pretty sure I mirrored her expression.

The kid and his mother got on a southbound train, and we joined the other three passengers when the next northbound finally rolled in a few minutes late.

They stood, gripping the handles that hung from the ceiling of the light rail, so Lena and I made our way to the back of the car and sat down.

“How do you want to play this?” I asked. “With the wiki team, I mean?”

She looked out the window. “How crazy are you ready to sound?”

“I think Donica will believe us, pretty much no matter what we say. It might not sound like much, but the shit she and I ran into last night felt every bit as weird as what we experienced this morning.”

“I believe you,” Lena said. “So that’s one vote for us not being completely mental.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“I’m sure Erin will understand, too,” I said. “The way she’s reacted to a few things, I think she already knows there’s way more than just a game here.”

I thought of the smile she’d worn in the hospital, not so different from Lena’s now. What had Third Eye given Erin to put it there?

“It’s her server,” Lena said. “If she’s got our back, then whether the others believe us or not, does it really matter?”

“Maybe not.” I scratched my chin. “There’s just one thing.”

Lena cocked her head.

I asked, “How much are we willing to put on a server we know a dev can read?”

“Shit. I keep forgetting he’s on there.”

VisibleFromSpace had not posted once since we joined. So? They must have had a reason for accepting Erin’s invite. If it wasn’t to contribute, was it to spy?

“Does it matter?” Lena asked. “After what we saw back there, why do you think we could hide anything from the devs?”

I winced. “That shouldn’t be comforting.”

“Nope.” She looked down at Bernie. She scratched under his chin. I heard his happy burble. “I just... can’t resent them for it anymore. Is that messed up?”

Probably. “I don’t know.”

“It’s like, if they planted Bernie there because they knew I’d get mad at them for what they did, and he was their peace offering? I feel like that should just piss me off more.”

I nodded.

“But if they’d dredged all that shit up in order to give me Bernie – I’m not going to say to give him back, because whether this is my original stuffed toy or not, he obviously wasn’t ever a real creature except in my imagination – then...” She gave him a squeeze. “That makes it worth it. Whatever they had to do, I’m glad they did it.”

“You know, if you really wanted a pet so much, you could’ve said.”

“Like we could afford to keep one?” Her eyes widened. “Do you think we’re going to have to feed him? What would he even eat?”

I gave a languid shrug. “As you pointed out, he’s yours. I’m sure you’ll be a responsible pet owner.”

She clutched him. “Quit it! I’m being serious.”

“I know, I know.” I spread my hands. “We can see if he wants to eat any of our Materials, and if not, I suppose we’d better try actual food. I think there’s a pretty good chance he’s a magical construct or hard light hologram or something, though.”

“I hope so,” Lena said. She bent down. “Don’t worry, little guy, we’ll keep you fed if you need it. Somehow. That video better keep doing numbers. And we need to get another one up.”

“It’s going to be extremely weird pretending we still think it’s just a game,” I said.

“Do you want to stop doing them?”

“No.” I took my phone out and looked at Bernie through Third Eye. He returned my gaze, tilted his head, and made a little trilling sound. I said, “However real this stuff is, it’s something people need to know about.”

“Are we going to tell them that on video?” Lena asked.

“It’s your channel,” I said. “How crazy are you willing to sound?”

She hugged Bernie tighter. “Um.”

“I don’t think we should try to tell them everything,” I said. “At least, not yet. We should try to get all four Reactant videos up, and along the way, we can give advice that will keep people as safe as possible without coming out and saying that Third Eye might be able to hurt them directly.”

Lena shuddered. “I’m feeling pretty good about not snorting that mercury you made yesterday.”

I reached over and hugged her shoulders. “I’m feeling pretty good about moving it away from you before you could do anything rash.”

“I wouldn’t really have,” she said. “Probably.”

“Nothing rash from here on out,” I said.

“Except for the fact we’re going to keep playing?”

“Heh.” I leaned back against the seat and rested my head on the plastic between it and the one behind us. “That’s the actual crazy thing, isn’t it?”

“Yep,” she said.

I glanced at her.

Despite her words, she kept smiling.

“You don’t still want to quit, then?” I asked.

Her eyes grew unfocused; I suspected she was looking at the Third Eye interface on her smart glasses. Seeing the Fire there. Then she looked down at Bernie. Her smile widened. “I’m in this for the long haul.”

“Same,” I said.

We hauled ass to our connection at Broadway and back to Englewood. When we disembarked, I held my hands out. “Are your arms getting tired?”

“No, I could tote him around forever,” Lena said. She looked down at Bernie. Up at me.

I was about to turn, but she thrust him forward.

“You sure?” I asked.

She gave a half nod, half shake of her head.

I got my phone out and looked at Bernie through Third Eye. “Mind riding with me for a while, little guy? Your mom needs a break.”

He didn’t look very little. Between his body and his tail, he was longer than I was tall, and a lot more so than Lena. His eyes swiveled to her, back to me, and his wide flat mouth opened. To hiss, to spit a fireball at me?

Ultimately, to issue a questioning burble.

When Lena held him forward, I felt his sticky round toes latch onto my arm. I scooped him up.

I couldn’t really look at him through Third Eye while I carried him, so to me it looked like I was just toting around a big plushie. More or less felt that way, too.

Lena grinned at us.

“Let’s go home,” I said.

She nodded.

It felt right to walk back to our apartment, burn off some of our weird energy.

Maybe so, but the snow started to fall when we were halfway home. Nothing sticking. Yet. I tried to determine if it was melting faster on Lena and I, and especially on Bernie, than on the cars and pavement and buildings around us. I thought so, but I couldn’t be sure, especially since I knew I was looking for it.

I didn’t think I felt as cold as I should have, with the holes in my gloves and no snow pants and no head covering except the hood of my parka, which I hadn’t remembered to pull up before I took Bernie. Again, though, was I really warmer than I should’ve been, or did I just expect to be?

We had to do the thermometer test. Then I could stop speculating.

I didn’t feel so warm that I wanted to hang out on the steps outside our apartment, in any case. We trudged past the parking lot and the dumpster – closed, for once – and up three flights to our door.

Lena unlocked it; I had my hands full.

“Where do you want him?” I asked, once I followed her inside.

“We’ve got to get a pet bed for him!”

“That’s going to look –” Weird? “– super cute.”

“Max adorbs, yo.” She held her arms out and I deposited Bernie in them. “For now, I’m going to put him on my bed.”

She hesitated.

I thought I knew why. “Like old times?”

Her smile wavered. She lowered her eyes. “We’ve got a lot of Third Eye crap to square away. Tests to run. The wiki team to hit up. Albie to find.”

I touched her arm. “That’s not all we need, Lena.”

She looked at my hand. “I know.”

“If I let go so you can put Bernie up,” I said, “are you going to come back out?”

Third Eye had put a smile on her face. I’d robbed her of it. I hated that so, so much.

But she straightened up and nodded.

I ditched my parka and gloves and sat down on my computer chair, the most comfortable seat in the apartment. I figured I might need some comfort. I scooted the chair halfway across the living room between my desk and Lena’s.

When she came back from the bedroom, Bernie-less, she saw what I’d done and pulled her chair over, too. She sank onto it.

I reached out and she took my hand, palm-up.

She ran a finger along the lines. “Isn’t there some kind of fortune telling thing you can do this way?”

“I think so,” I said.

“Cool.”

Silence.

I marshaled myself to break it, but after a minute, Lena craned her neck back. She met my eyes and then she closed hers. She breathed out. “Okay. I can do this.”

“You can,” I said. “We can.”

“You know I backed Third Eye for way too much,” Lena said. “You know I ran out of money.”

“Yeah.”

“You asked me once if that’s why I moved in with you.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” she echoed. When I didn’t react – when I sat there, silent, staring at our hands – she killed my last shred of ambiguity. “That’s why.”

Slowly, I nodded. Wasn’t this what I’d thought I wanted? Clarity, one way or another.

You know what people say. Wish for shit without a care; it’ll probably work out.

No? That’s not how the saying goes?