A Pocketful of Stars (Applied Topology Book 1)

by Margaret Ball

  “Pink. Ribbon. Bows.”

  “Yes, well, the Ukranians are why he sent one of his computer experts to upgrade the security on my laptop. And because he still thinks I’m a little girl, it didn’t occur to him to tell Mr. Sutherland that my dorm has positively medieval rules and he’d have to check in at the front desk, and there wasn’t anybody at the desk when he came in so he just came on up to look at the computer, and I didn’t know he hadn’t checked in because he didn’t tell me because he didn’t know he was supposed to, but it’s all right because he’s done all the security checks now and Daddy’s private jet is waiting for him at the airport and he needs to leave right now to avoid the traffic.”

  Ben took his cue and hot-footed it out of the dorm as soon as the forbidding Ms. Barker accepted that story. He walked back to Allandale House, very carefully not thinking about anything except his immediate surroundings.

  Then he bounded up the stairs and told us that we needed to hire Annelise immediately.

  He got a wounded look when we responded by asking how he’d vanished and where he’d been. Finally he interrupted his own praise of Annelise long enough to give us the account above.

  Then he borrowed Ingrid’s phone and called Annelise. Could she come over to Allandale House right now? “Please… It’s important…You were telling me you want a part time job to show your father that you’re independent but you’re not qualified to do anything, right? Well, I’ve thought of something you’re super qualified for!”

  He handed Ingrid’s phone back and thanked her.

  “Since when do you make hiring decisions around here, Ben?”

  He looked wounded. “But isn’t it obvious? I’ve seen her in action before, but this time it all came together for me. Annelise can talk her way out of anything, any time. I told you we should have had her along on those spying excursions. Now I’m going to wait for her on the public side.”

  “I shall take a nap,” Mr. M announced, coiling himself up on my desk. “This has been a very tiring day.”

  Ben turned sideways and vanished.

  Ingrid and I followed, because we weren’t through with this argument yet.

  All moving the site of the argument accomplished was to add Lensky to the firestorm. He must have come in while we were talking on the private side. Thank goodness Mr. M had decided to nap on my desk; introducing him to Lensky was going to be a whole new can of worms.

  “She’s not even a mathematician!” Ingrid complained.

  “I decide who can be read into the program,” Lensky announced.

  “Well, I think Ben’s got a good point,” I said, mainly because I hate it when everybody in the room piles onto one person and won’t stop hitting them. “To get the information you need, Lensky, we’re probably going to have to go to a lot more places where we’re not supposed to be. Wouldn’t it be useful to have somebody who can talk her way out of anything?”

  Of course, Lensky hadn’t heard that part, so Ben had to tell his story all over again. He was almost through when a tanned, honey-blonde girl in shorts that displayed a couple of miles of tanned leg showed up at the top of the stairs. Lensky got that look on his face – you know, the one where the man looks as though he’s just been hit on the head with a two-by-four but hasn’t yet realized he ought to fall down – and I surmised that it wasn’t going to be at all difficult to get him to clear Annelise and read her in on the project.

  It was actually more difficult to persuade Annelise to join us.

  No, she didn’t freak out at the part about real-world effects created by visualizing mathematical spaces. Of course, she’d just had a demonstration. Even so, a lot of people would think we were insane. Annelise just said, “I saw the Lord of the Rings movies three times. And after that I read the books twice.”

  Possibly she was the insane one. The first movie in the trilogy had been more than enough for me. Although Legolas was pretty hot.

  The hard part was persuading her that we really needed her help and that this wasn’t a make-work job dreamed up by Ben to get points with her. I have to admit it sounded kind of fluffy: follow us around and be ready to talk us out of any complications? Finally I got Ben and Ingrid to shut up long enough for me to tell her about us getting caught sitting on the floor of a vacant office.

  “How did you get out of that?”

  “I told the truth,” I confessed. Well, some of the truth, anyway.

  “What? That’s never a good idea!”

  “You see? We really do need you.”

  Since Annelise was a graduating senior, she didn’t want to sign up for a full-time job that would conflict with her classes. “Not that I have a lot in the way of classes this semester,” she admitted. “I put off the most boring General Requirements classes until the last year. This semester all I’ve got besides English Comp. and Biology 101 is “Sex and Power in the Black Diaspora” and “Queer Identity Formation.” Those satisfy the Diversity and Anti-Bigotry requirement and all you have to do to pass is show up at every class and record what the professor says so you can repeat it on the tests. But I do have to go to class. I heard that last year some students pooled their resources so only one guy with a smartphone had to actually show up at “Sex and Power” and record the lecture for everybody. So now the department’s cracking down on attendance.”

  She gave us her class schedule and we agreed that we’d try to work around it.

  Ingrid noticed that she didn’t have anything before 10 AM. “The other part of the job is very simple,” she said, and stepped on Ben’s foot. “You need to come in between 9 and 10 every morning, make coffee, and set out the pastries you bought.”

  “Where do I get the money?”

  “Petty cash,” Ingrid, Ben and I said in unison. Great minds really do think alike. When Dr. Verrick had been the only supplier of doughnuts, this topic had never come up. By Monday, though, there would be a desk facing the stairs, a cash box on the desk, and generous donations for a pastry fund in the box. Jimmy and Lensky could donate too; they certainly ate enough when they got a chance.

  Chapter 13

  Dr. Verrick chose this time to call a staff meeting.

  “I have a seminar,” Annelise claimed, and fled the building.

  Sensible girl. She had the right attitude towards meetings.

  Ben thought the purpose of the meeting was for Dr. Verrick to retroactively okay Annelise’s hiring and possibly thank him for having done something productive about our staffing crisis.

  I don’t think Ben and Annelise have a future; she’s a realist and he, as you can tell from the foregoing paragraph, is an incurable optimist.

  It turned out that the purpose of the meeting was to lacerate our sensibilities, offend our finest feelings, and remind us that we had all the status and freedom of slaves. In chains.

  Or, as Dr. Verrick put it, to remind us that the Moore Foundation’s annual May Fiesta was tomorrow night, and for us to brush up on the finer points of formal attire and behavior.

  “Mr. Sutherland, despite the fact that the Foundation calls this a fiesta, a sombrero is not appropriate evening dress.”

  “Miss Thorn, you are not and never will be a Viking Shield-Maiden. You are particularly warned to lose the authentic sword.”

  “Miss Kostis, ladies do not wear cut-offs. You will dress like a lady tomorrow night. That means wearing something with a skirt, if you follow me. Preferably one long enough to cover the tattoo on your… upper leg.”

  I poked Ben. We’d both predicted that the outline of the State of Texas on the outside of my left thigh was going to be mentioned; Dr. Verrick really didn’t like my favorite pair of cutoffs, which were frayed up to the point where you could see all the way to the Panhandle. But I’d bet Ben five bucks that Dr. Verrick wouldn’t be able to bring himself to use the word “thigh” in public. It’s a sin to pass up easy beer money.

  He probably wouldn’t use the word in private either, but there was no way we were ever going to be able to test that
theory.

  Lensky, the rat, was leaning back in a chair at the far end of the table, tilted so far back he could rest his feet on the table, and grinning as he heard our sartorial deficiencies listed.

  “Now, as to conduct appropriate to a formal party. You will all, of course, make eye contact with the other guests, smile, and reply courteously when spoken to.

  “Miss Thorn, ‘Hojotoho!’ is not an acceptable greeting or response to a greeting; nor is ‘Heiaha!’ With all due respect for Wagner, you will please confine yourself to English tomorrow night.

  “Mr. Sutherland, not only is your Mexican hat inappropriate, but so is any attempt to perform the Mexican hat dance. Particularly as badly as you do it.”

  “Miss Kostis, ‘There are a lot of numbers larger than four’ is not an excuse for being found on a balcony with no fewer than four inebriated trustees, one of whom is attempting to drink champagne out of your sandal and flooding the balcony. Please wear shoes that do not leak this time.”

  “Mr. Lensky….”

  Lensky’s feet swung off the table and his chair crashed forward. “Wait a minute! I don’t have to go to this thing! I’m not your employee!”

  “Ms. Harris has already mentioned to me how much she is looking forward to greeting a representative of the agency which has been so supportive of the Moore Foundation.”

  I don’t know anybody else who could have gotten so many multi-syllable words out of what was basically, “You have to go.”

  And what was that about Lensky’s agency being so supportive? What else were they secretly funding? I hadn’t actually seen any men staring at goats on campus, but maybe the remake was, “Men Who Stare at Grackles.” I narrowed my eyes at Lensky, but he gave me a slight shake of his head, implying that he didn’t know what Dr. Verrick was talking about either.

  After Dr. Verrick had finished crushing our egos, he went off to home, or his other office in the math building, or some other place where he would be safe from muttering, resentful peasants.

  To my surprise, Lensky sympathized with us.

  “I would have brought doughnuts if I’d known about this.”

  “You should always bring doughnuts,” I said, “somebody’s always having a crisis. Oh, I forgot, we outsourced that to Annelise. Doughnuts, not crises.”

  “I need beer. Now,” Ingrid announced.

  “Let’s drown our sorrows together,” Ben said, taking her arm.

  “Don’t forget to eat something!” I called after them.

  The break room was remarkably quiet now that Dr. Verrick and two of the muttering peasants had left us.

  “So,” Lensky said, moving briskly past the pastry shortage, “you’ve all been pulling my leg about being introverted scholars, and the truth is that you’re wild party animals.”

  “I think it’s the open bar,” I said. “It’s a natural chain of events. When forced to make conversation with Deans and Regents we drink too much, and when we drink too much our… imperfect socialization… manifests itself in sometimes overly dramatic ways. Also, there’s the hope that we won’t be invited back. They have three or four of these parties a year, you know. And Dr. Verrick makes us go to all of them.”

  “Party animals,” he said.

  “And then there’s Ingrid’s Viking hat. She has some sort of personality change when she puts on her horned helmet.”

  “Has anybody told her that Vikings didn’t actually wear helmets with horns?”

  “They do in Wagner, and that’s good enough for Ingrid.”

  “But those aren’t Vikings! They’re Germans! And they didn’t wear horned helmets either, nobody would, it’s dumb to put handles on your head when you’re fighting!”

  “Look,” I said, “you can either argue historical and military accuracy with Ingrid, or you can wait until tomorrow night and see what happens when she wears the hat.”

  “Didn’t Dr. Verrick tell her not to?”

  I thought back over his exact words. “No. He told her that she wasn’t a shield-maiden, and he told her not to bring the sword. I don’t think he said anything specific about headgear. Bet you five bucks she wears it tomorrow night.”

  “Done,” he said.

  Beer money was coming in easy today. But I felt a little bit guilty about winning it this easily. “Aren’t you awfully ready to bet on somebody you really don’t know all that well?”

  “The way I see it,” he said, “if I win, I’m five bucks ahead, and if I lose, it’ll be worth it to watch Ingrid swinging from the chandeliers and yodeling. Besides, I’m already betting more than I’d like to lose on somebody I don’t yet know all that well.”

  He looked at me as if he was mentally removing my Ramones T-shirt. Ok, it was a little small even on me, and the much-washed cotton clung to my body. My face grew hot. “If you’re betting on a one-night stand before you go back to DC, you’ve already lost.”

  “I was hoping for more of a multi-night stand,” he said softly, “with lots of reruns.”

  “I don’t do long-distance relationships.”

  “Is that really the problem? Or is it that you’re too much of an intellectual snob to dally with a commoner who got a lousy degree in Criminal Justice from a lousy state college?”

  “That chip on your shoulder really shuts down intelligent conversation, you know.”

  “That would explain why I haven’t heard any from you yet.”

  At this point, a proper couple would either fall into a long, passionate clinch or exit angrily in different directions, slamming any available doors. Another sign that Lensky and I weren’t meant to be together: instead of stomping off he lingered to clear up, he said, some minor logistical points.

  “I won’t be in tomorrow,” he said.

  “What, spooks take weekends off?”

  I think the funny noise I heard was his teeth grinding. Or it might have been another comment in Polish. Hard to tell.

  “Not until this investigation is concluded… But tomorrow’s different. I’m going to take my niece out. I haven’t even seen her since I got to Austin.”

  That might have had some connection with the fact that he’d spent the last three evenings with me. I refused to feel guilty; he was a grown man. He had to figure out his own priorities.

  “What do you do when you take her out? Go to the shooting range?”

  “If that’s what she wants,” he said, “that’s what we’ll do. I don’t have any firm plans made. She’s eleven years old and sharp as a tack; I expect she’ll have her own plans for tomorrow.”

  “And her parents are okay with her going around with a guy who carries a gun?”

  He had a strange expression. “Remember, my brother died when she was a baby. As for Pamela – her mother – well, I don’t think Pam would notice if Linda started carrying. You’ve heard of helicopter mothers? Well, Pam’s like the inverse of that. She believes in giving Linda her own space. Lots and lots of her own space. So much space that for all practical purposes, Pam might as well be in the next county.”

  He sounded disapproving, and I felt a little bit sorry for Linda’s mother. It couldn’t be easy having your child-rearing critiqued by a spook.

  “But I’ll pick you up tomorrow night. Say, seven?”

  “We don’t have to be at the party until nine. And you don’t have to pick me up; there’s no rule that we all show up together in one tight, unhappy, anti-social clump. Though,” I admitted, “that seems to be the way it always happens.”

  “Well, maybe it’s time for a change. I thought we could have dinner first. And then I’ll escort you to the Foundation Fiesta.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I insist on it,” he said. “From the sound of it, I’ll need somebody to watch my back.”

  Chapter 14

  Lensky hadn’t said what he was doing Friday night, but evidently it didn’t involve me. Which was really just as well; after Ben’s experience, Ingrid and I were dying to see what we could do with the stars aug
menting our visualizations. I got a ride home with her because the clouds rolling overhead looked like the prelude to a May downpour. There’s nothing tentative about rain in Texas. We don’t get a light drizzle or a ‘gentle rain from heaven.’ Texas can go from drought conditions to flash flood warning on a moment’s notice.

  We didn’t experiment jointly, of course. Without any need for consultation, she headed to her bedroom and I to mine. She had a head start on me; she didn’t have to scoop books, magazines, and laundry off the floor to give herself a place to work. I needed to get the room semi-organized so that I would be able to tell if anything changed.

  After Ben’s experience I was shy of teleportation. I decided to do set selections instead. This meant that I was sitting quietly on the floor, thinking beautiful thoughts about the Axiom of Choice, when Ingrid’s mind was already careening around in non-metric spaces.

  And the earth moved.

  Okay, not literally. When I picked myself up after the crash, the floor was still level and none of my books had slid out of place. So it probably hadn’t been the long-anticipated shift of the Balcones Fault. It hadn’t been the thunder now rolling across the sky, either; that was still going on.

  The sound of cursing in the next room guided me to the epicenter of the non-quake. Ingrid was sitting in a corner, and there were books, cinderblocks and boards strewn all over the room.

  “One book,” she said. “Yesterday I couldn’t lift a sugar packet. Today I thought that using the stars to augment my work, I’d be able to bring something as heavy as a book to me. I was trying for Counterexamples in Analysis. What I got was the bookshelf and all its contents.”

  “We need to calibrate the effects, don’t we?”

  I got back to my own visualization before she could draft me to help rebuild her cinderblocks-and-boards bookcase.

  There were trees around the apartment building. I didn’t know what kind of trees and I thought they were probably not all the same kind. Deciduous, not conifers, and that was about as far as my nature study went. It would be interesting to collect a selection of their leaves and get Ben or somebody to identify them. The rain was already pounding them; it should be easy to detach a wet leaf from each tree.