Legba’s brow furrowed, and he aimed the bug away from the disrobing young woman, towards the discarded piece of security paraphernalia. Although this Raven Black did not seem to have any malicious plans, whether on a micro or macro scale, she was deeply connected to all of the government stations spread across this wealthy, geopolitically important planet. However, that fact alone shouldn’t have been enough to make Legba’s probability matrix go on the fritz; after all, a piece of predictive technology that went haywire as soon as it had to deal with the mere existence of bureaucrats would have a hard time producing information of any value. There was something special about Raven Black in particular.
What exactly that was, though, was hard for Legba to say. He had noticed her doing some interesting recreational hacking, but that alone didn’t seem like enough to seriously harm the predictive capabilities of his matrix. However, as an important cog in the machinery of Dacca Noir’s institutional apparatus, her thoughts and decisions could ripple outwards quite easily, affecting events (and probability matrices) beyond her imagination. Perhaps if she had some sort of latent precog abilities, or some rare psychic talents, they might manifest themselves in her work as a security expert. Such abilities would make her much better at anticipating people’s actions, much better at carrying out the will of Dacca Noir’s government, and ultimately much better at inadvertently bringing about the ruination of entire sectors.
Legba heard the abrupt sound of a shower coming to life. The bug was still pointed at Raven Black’s keycard, but in the interest of privacy, he decided to turn it off for the night. His eyes fluttered open, no longer showing the interior of the young woman’s bedroom, but instead the cracked sidewalk under his feet.
Legba straightened up, brushed himself off, and began to walk back southward, towards the penthouse he’d rented for the week. I think I’ve learned all that I can from a distance, he thought to himself. Perhaps the time has come for she and I to meet.
+++
Aboard the Chesed, Deep Space
Bentley watched as Legba walked along a familiar sidewalk, away from her former apartment building. She observed him tramping along in his ugly overcoat, moving farther and farther south, back towards downtown, leaving her neighborhood behind. She turned her gaze away from him, back to her building. It was a tall, wide structure of concrete and glass, constructed with only two overarching purposes in mind: to be built as cheaply as possible, and to cram in as many units as was feasible. It was by no means a beautiful building, but it had been her home.
She could barely believe that she was seeing this place again. This was a place where she had spent so much of her life, but which she had barely remembered until a few minutes ago. Seeing her street, her building, and her apartment, all one after the other in such quick succession, had been overwhelming, her mind flooding with memories. She was tempted to stay there, to remain enveloped in this blanket of the familiar, but she knew that that was not why she was there. It was time to go back.
She took a deep breath, her chest expanding as she inhaled. She felt the air coursing through her nasal passage and her lungs. The strong rush of air helped to bring her back to the present. The illuminated windows without curtains, the lampposts, the distant ships overhead, and all of the other sources of light on her street dissolved away into nothing. Her street, which seconds ago had only been dominated by shadows, was at last overtaken by them, and it faded away into pure darkness. She opened her eyes, to the glaring light of the overhead fluorescents that hung from the ceiling of the medical bay, then turned towards Legba. His own eyes fluttered open, and a calm smile spread across his face.
Bentley did not return the expression. She furrowed her eyebrows and leaned towards him. “So. I have a few questions.”
Legba nodded. “Please. Ask away. The purpose of this exercise is to answer any questions you might have.”
Bentley took a deep breath and extended her index finger. “Number one: was it really necessary to spy on me when I was about to take a shower? That seems a bit… excessive, don’t you think?”
Legba’s face crumbled into an expression of discomfort. His eyes darted away from Bentley, pointing towards the floor. “Well… I made sure to turn the visual component away from you. I didn’t— I never watched you...”
Bentley twisted her mouth. “Really? Isn’t that pretty much all you were doing?”
Legba ran a hand through his hair, grasping for words. “Right. That— Yes, it is true, I was watching you, but what I meant to say was that I was never watching you in a, a state of undress. I can assure you, I did not send advanced devices capable of audio and visual recording up to your apartment out of prurient curiosity. As you well know, there are much easier ways to get an eyeful of naked flesh on Dacca Noir. Especially with the amount of credit I had.”
Bentley shrugged. “Well. You never know. Also, you don’t exactly seem like the type who would wander into one of the fine establishments on West Terminal, to take in a holopornographic show or two.”
Legba nodded sagely. “That— That is true…” He twisted his beard between his fingers, uncomfortable. “You, uh, you mentioned that you had a, a few questions? As in, questions that are… different from your last one?”
Bentley leaned back in her seat. “Oh. Yeah. Right.” She lifted up a second finger. “Number two: all that stuff you were thinking to yourself at the end. About me being a, a precog, or a psychic, or whatever.”
Legba bit his lip, uncertain. “I am sorry, but… but that is not a question, exactly.”
Bentley threw up her hands, frustrated. “Fine. My question is: what the hell were you talking about?”
Legba folded his hands in his lap, a smirk forming on his lips. He looked Bentley in the eyes, sitting before her in silence.
Bentley stared at Legba’s face, impatiently. Although his lips did not move from their fixed smirk, she suddenly heard his voice in her mind: What do you think I meant?
She flinched, surprised. Legba’s smile stretched wider. Again, she heard his voice, not in the room, but in her mind: You’re special, Bentley.
Bentley took a deep breath, her expression serious. “Legba, please get out of my head. I’m not special. I’m not. I’m just someone who happened to get caught up in this mess by accident. That’s all.”
Legba smiled sadly at her. “I am sorry, my child, but there are no accidents.”
Bentley crossed her arms. “Oh, of course there are. Why else would we have the word, ‘accident’? Just to fill up dictionaries? Do you think dictionary writers get paid by the word?”
Legba sighed. “Bentley, I realize that this is a lot to assimilate, and that maybe on some level it might be easier to believe that you’re not special. That this is all chance. That a mere twist of fate put you on this path, and that all it will take is yet another insignificant twist of fate for you to leave it, to return to something like normalcy. But that is simply not true.”
Bentley shook her head. “Fine, fine. I believe in accidents, and you don’t. I don’t think this debate will go anywhere terribly interesting.” She lay back in the examination seat. “Let’s just get back into it.”
Legba nodded, closing his eyes. “As you wish.”
Bentley stared at the ceiling. “And can we please cut it with the long tangents? Just get to the point. What happens when you and I meet?”
Legba leaned back on the stool. “Come. Let me show you.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Dive Noir (Bentley’s local dive bar), Dacca Noir, Dracon System, Kaunox Sector
Legba leaned back in his booth and heard the sharp squeal of the vinyl seat underneath his posterior. At least it’s just noisy and not sticky, he thought to himself. He began to wonder how often this bar cleaned its seats, and what the general causal history of this booth had been, but he stopped himself. Some questions are probably better left unanswered.
He looked outwards from his booth, past his tall glass of beer, and surveyed the dive bar. It w
as certainly a step down from the fancy restaurant he’d visited earlier that day. Instead of overlooking the city from the sixtieth floor, Legba could barely see out the distant, smudged windows that looked out at street level. The bar itself had a vaguely grimy feel, with old, dark furniture that was at least four eras out of fashion. The lighting throughout the bar was very dim, possibly because the room would look repugnant if it were actually seen in full detail. I can’t imagine any of the wait staff here dress in white, he thought. Merely touching any surface in this place would probably stain such clothes irreversibly.
Still, Legba had to admit, this place was popular. Most of the booths and tables were occupied, and there was always a crowd around the bar. Not that he was in any rush to meet the bar’s clientele. The customers all seemed to be different brands of unsavory, from loud young people who were probably there for the low prices rather than the ambiance, to older burnouts, who seemed as though they had nowhere else to go.
Legba looked across the room, towards a tiny booth that was crammed into the corner. It seemed as if it might have been built by accident, as it was barely large enough to accommodate two people. However, whether out of incompetence or sheer laziness, there it remained.
Legba had been watching this tiny booth for the last two hours, and frustratingly, it remained empty. He took a gulp of his beer, then inspected the contents of his glass. Only 10% left, he thought to himself. She’s taking a fair bit longer than I’d expected. And much longer than I’d hoped. Given the choice, Legba would happily leave this bar and never return, but he had a good reason to be there: it seemed like the best place to meet Raven Black.
Over the past few days, he had learned that one of her most prominent personality traits was a deep inability to trust people. This certainly helped her in her work, making it easier for her to imagine the various kinds of mental or physical contortions people might go through in order to get what they want at someone else’s expense. However, this trait spilled into her personal life, too. As far as Legba could tell, the only people that Raven Black spoke with were her coworkers, but these interactions were strictly professional. She kept herself at a remove from other people, never offering any details about herself or her private life, and always skillfully maneuvering conversations away from herself, in such a way that the other party wouldn’t notice that she was doing it.
The only time Legba had seen a stranger approach her, it had not gone well. The previous day, she had been sitting on a bench in a park near her work, eating lunch, reading a book. A well-dressed young man had been walking by, and noticing the cover of the book, stepped closer to her. He mentioned that he’d loved the author’s previous novel, and that he was looking forward to picking up a copy of the one that Raven Black held in her hands. She looked up at him with such a cold stare that he might as well have said that he’d enjoyed murdering a young woman the previous week, and that he was very much looking forward to murdering her at some point soon. Luckily for both of them, the young man took the hint and beat a very hasty retreat.
If Legba were playing armchair psychiatrist, he would guess that this deep distrust was probably grounded in some past trauma that Raven Black had experienced. Perhaps the disappearance of her father, or the imprisonment of her mother. However, for Legba’s purposes, it didn’t really matter why she was this way. It just meant that approaching her out of the blue would be inherently risky.
Yes, he did know where she lived, but it seemed like tapping her on the shoulder as she entered her building would not be an effective strategy for meeting her. However, it might be an incredibly effective strategy for getting her to shoot him in the face in self-defense. It wouldn’t be the worst possible situation; if she did happen to shoot him, and it was fatal, then this would simply trigger a failsafe. His (now dead) body would be sent back to his dead rock via automatic quantum entanglement teleportation, and it would be rejuvenated by nanocytes. Simple enough. However, it would be awfully inconvenient to have to respawn halfway across the galaxy, and ultimately it would not be the best way to introduce himself to Raven Black.
As an alternative, Legba had chosen one of the few places she spent a significant amount of time, which was not her home or her place of work: this dive bar. It was not really clear to him why she kept coming here, as she rarely interacted with anyone, mostly keeping to herself in the tiny corner booth, drinking alone. However, she did come here most nights after work, and it was a place where she seemed comfortable. Certainly more comfortable than she’d been with that young man in the park.
At that moment, Legba noticed the front door of the bar swinging open, and in walked Raven Black. Her shoulders were hunched against the cold as she came inside, but as she made her way towards the bar she seemed to relax. Legba was too far away to hear exactly what she was saying, but she exchanged words with a male bartender, and within seconds, he was handing her a tall glass of beer. She smiled and made her way towards the tiny booth in the corner. She placed her beer on the table, removed her jacket, and retrieved her book from one of the jacket’s inner pockets.
Legba clicked his fingers on the top of the table, thinking. On the one hand, it would make sense to wait until she’d had at least one drink, allowing her to relax further before he tried to initiate contact. As reasonable as that plan was, he felt a sharp urgency within himself, a desire to talk to her as soon as possible.
That led to a second problem: what to say. Commenting on her reading material had a less than stellar track record. Over the last few days on Dacca Noir, Legba had seen enough interactions between young women and male strangers to know that unsolicited compliments were not a winning strategy either. He took a deep breath. Perhaps I should just go with honesty, he thought to himself.
He slowly edged his way out of the booth and walked towards Raven Black. By the time he reached her table, she hadn’t looked up from her book, so he cleared his throat lightly. Her gaze rose from her book to his face, her expression making it clear that this intrusion was not welcome.
Legba smiled. “Hello. I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I saw you come in, and, well, I just had a strong feeling that it was very important for me to talk to you.”
Raven Black looked at Legba skeptically. “You don’t say. Did you see her come in?” She pointed towards a young woman a few tables over, who was in the midst of polishing off her fifth consecutive shot. She slammed the tiny glass onto her table, completing the row of five, and screamed happily, her eyes closed.
Raven Black nodded towards the screaming woman. “She seems like she might be a bit more fun. Maybe you should go talk to her. Could be just as important.”
Legba shook his head lightly. “No, I’m afraid it was just you. I don’t know why, exactly, but… I think you’re destined to do something of deep importance.”
She smirked at him. “Like go home with you tonight? Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
Legba took a step back. “Oh, no. Nothing like that. I’m sorry for the interruption. Please enjoy your evening.” He nodded to her, turned, and walked back towards his booth across the room.
He put his hands in his pockets. I know that my probability matrix is on the fritz, he thought to himself, so it won’t be much help to me tonight, but my guess is that the odds that worked are maybe 50-50. If I’m lucky.
Legba squirmed his way back into his booth and picked up his glass once more. As he drew it towards his lips, he glanced over at Raven Black’s booth and noticed her watching him. Her eyes no longer seemed as judgmental as they were when he’d been standing right in front of her. They now seemed softer, and undecided.
Legba gazed at his glass, which was now empty. As he placed it back on the table, he noticed Raven Black approaching him, her jacket slung over one arm, her beer in one hand. She stood before him, a look of contrition on her face.
He looked up at her and smiled. “Well. I must say, this is a pleasant surprise.”
She smiled back. “Hi. Sorry if I was a bit… curt with you,
back there.”
Legba shrugged. “Oh, think nothing of it. I rarely get approached by strange men in bars, but I imagine it can get tiresome.”
She chuckled. “Yeah. It’s exhausting. But that’s not a very good reason to be impolite.” She nodded her head towards the booth. “Do you mind if I take a seat?”
Legba moved deeper into the booth, and gestured towards the opposite bench. “Please.”
As Raven Black placed her beer on the table and shuffled into the booth, a female bartender walked past. They locked eyes and smiled to each other. Raven Black turned to Legba and looked down at his empty glass. “Do you want another one? On me.”
Legba smiled. “That sounds lovely. I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
Raven Black looked back to the bartender and pointed at her nearly full glass, then at Legba’s. The bartender nodded, grinning, and made her way towards the bar.
Raven Black turned back towards Legba and clasped her hands together. “So. What is it, exactly, that’s so important about me?”
Legba leaned back in his seat. “Well, to be honest, I am not completely sure. I imagine, though, that you’re one of the foremost experts on the subject of you, so perhaps you might be able to tell me.”
Over the next few hours, Raven Black opened up to Legba much more than he was expecting her to. She told him about her job and her day-to-day life on Dacca Noir. About the modest form of happiness she’d been able to build, rooted in her skill at work rather than any social network, or family. About the fact that she yearned for adventure, but that she didn’t believe that she deserved it. The more that she shared, and the more Legba listened, the more he found himself caring for Raven Black, in a way that surprised him. In the same way, he thought, that a father might care for his daughter.
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