Half-Off Ragnarok
Page 77
“Hold on,” said Shelby. She hadn’t moved, and was still watching me thoughtfully. “Isn’t the end thrust of your research basically that the discovery of the fricken by mainstream science is inevitable, due to the ongoing decline of the frogs and such?”
“Yes,” I said. “The problem becomes managing that discovery. I can’t be the one to make it. We’d really rather have warning. So that means navigating someone into a position where they can find out that frickens exist without realizing they’ve been managed. This is going to have huge repercussions for the cryptid world. Among other things, it may force the reexamination of a lot of ‘rumors’ that science currently dismisses out of hand.”
“Like snakes with wings,” guessed Shelby.
I nodded. “And fish with fur, and all the other ‘that could never happen’ hybrids. This isn’t going to lead to someone discovering the vegetable lambs or barnacle geese—not yet—but it’s going to open a lot of doors, and if we’re not braced when that happens, things could turn ugly, fast.”
“Sounds fun.” Shelby finally undid her belt and got out of the car. I followed suit, and we walked together up the pathway toward the house. Outside the door, she paused and asked, “Are you sure your grandmother isn’t going to mind me staying with you for a little bit?”
“If she minded, she’d tell you. Grandma is pretty good about mimicking human behaviors—she grew up with humans. But she never quite picked up the habit of social lying. It makes her uncomfortable.” Probably because normal cuckoos are the most dishonest things in the world. Grandma never did like being compared to her relatives.
“Good,” said Shelby, looking relieved.
“Nothing to worry about,” I said, and opened the door. “Grandma? Are you home?”
“I’m in the kitchen,” she called back. I glanced at Shelby, shrugged, and pushed open the kitchen door.
Grandma was sitting at the table, which was covered in a thick layer of financial reports from one of her clients. Most of the people whose accounts she handled were cryptids or otherwise involved with the cryptid world; when it came to accountants, you couldn’t find one who was better with nonhuman spending patterns than my grandmother. She looked up as we approached. “How did it go?” she asked.
“Not too badly; Kumari is going to ask around and see if she can get us more information about who might be trying to hurt us.” I walked past her to the fridge. “How have things been here?”
“Calm. The police came by.”
I nearly dropped my can of V-8. “What?”
“What?” echoed Shelby.
“Don’t worry about it. They know you had nothing to do with any of the current troubles, and they won’t be questioning you again. You could probably commit murder in front of the officers and they wouldn’t notice.” Grandma turned over a piece of paper, studying the back. “You’re welcome.”
I gaped at her, but it was Shelby who spoke, saying, “I thought you weren’t a receptive telepath.”
“Brainwashing is projective, as it turns out. Who knew?” Grandma raised her head and smiled sunnily. “Again, you’re welcome.”
“Thank you,” I said hastily, as I closed the fridge. “Has the dry cleaner called yet? We need to get Shelby into something a little less obtrusive before we break into the zoo.”
“They have, and her clothes are upstairs,” said Grandma. “It’s amazing what a fifty-dollar tip will do for a rush job.”
Shelby’s eyes widened. “I—”
“Don’t worry about it.” Grandma dismissed the matter with a wave of her hand. “If our little arsonist hadn’t burned down your apartment, they might have come after Alex here, and there’s no way we would have been able to get the mice out in time. Consider it hazard pay, and go get your clothes on. I don’t want you getting that skirt dirty.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Shelby, before turning and fleeing the kitchen for the dubious safety of my bedroom.
“She thinks you don’t like her,” I said, opening the V-8. “Brainwashing the police probably doesn’t help, although I think she’ll understand your reasons once she’s done being unnerved.”
“I don’t,” said Grandma, with a shrug. “But you do, and that’s good enough for me, at least for right now. If she hurts you, she’s going to learn the real reason you shouldn’t mess around with cuckoos.” She stood, walking over to ruffle my hair. “It’s nice to see you with a girl of your own species. I want great-grandchildren someday, and let’s face it, you’re my best bet.”
“Grandma!” I said, scandalized.
“What?” She shook her head. “Verity won’t have children as long as she’s dancing professionally, Antimony is . . . well, she’s Antimony and requires special considerations, and even if she completely recovers, Sarah is unlikely to ever get within ten yards of a male Johrlac without screaming her head off.”
“There’s always Artie,” I said.
Grandma sighed. “Oh, believe me, I know there’s always Artie. He called again this morning to find out whether I was ready to have him come for a visit.”
“That might not be such a bad idea,” I said carefully. “Sarah’s more focused lately. Seeing him could be what she needs to pull herself the rest of the way together.”
“Or it could make her fall further apart when she panicked and tried to put herself together without being ready,” said Grandma. She shook her head. “No. Artie won’t be visiting until she can ask for him herself. And even if those two eventually figure things out, they’re not genetically compatible.”
“True.” Artie was a blood relative, half-human, half-incubus. Sarah was well, Sarah. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to jump straight into the baby-making business with Shelby.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” said Grandma, with a smile. “Either way, she’s good for you. Now go do something illegal and dangerous with your girlfriend.”
“My family did not prepare me to date like a normal human,” I muttered.
Grandma just laughed.
Even closed, the zoo was easy to access; it had its own road, after all, and they couldn’t seal that off from the public. Still, we didn’t want to head down the main drive. We would have been too obvious. I turned off onto one of the maintenance roads as soon as the opportunity arose, driving through the trees as we paralleled the zoo’s rear retaining wall.
“Yes,” I said. “The problem becomes managing that discovery. I can’t be the one to make it. We’d really rather have warning. So that means navigating someone into a position where they can find out that frickens exist without realizing they’ve been managed. This is going to have huge repercussions for the cryptid world. Among other things, it may force the reexamination of a lot of ‘rumors’ that science currently dismisses out of hand.”
“Like snakes with wings,” guessed Shelby.
I nodded. “And fish with fur, and all the other ‘that could never happen’ hybrids. This isn’t going to lead to someone discovering the vegetable lambs or barnacle geese—not yet—but it’s going to open a lot of doors, and if we’re not braced when that happens, things could turn ugly, fast.”
“Sounds fun.” Shelby finally undid her belt and got out of the car. I followed suit, and we walked together up the pathway toward the house. Outside the door, she paused and asked, “Are you sure your grandmother isn’t going to mind me staying with you for a little bit?”
“If she minded, she’d tell you. Grandma is pretty good about mimicking human behaviors—she grew up with humans. But she never quite picked up the habit of social lying. It makes her uncomfortable.” Probably because normal cuckoos are the most dishonest things in the world. Grandma never did like being compared to her relatives.
“Good,” said Shelby, looking relieved.
“Nothing to worry about,” I said, and opened the door. “Grandma? Are you home?”
“I’m in the kitchen,” she called back. I glanced at Shelby, shrugged, and pushed open the kitchen door.
Grandma was sitting at the table, which was covered in a thick layer of financial reports from one of her clients. Most of the people whose accounts she handled were cryptids or otherwise involved with the cryptid world; when it came to accountants, you couldn’t find one who was better with nonhuman spending patterns than my grandmother. She looked up as we approached. “How did it go?” she asked.
“Not too badly; Kumari is going to ask around and see if she can get us more information about who might be trying to hurt us.” I walked past her to the fridge. “How have things been here?”
“Calm. The police came by.”
I nearly dropped my can of V-8. “What?”
“What?” echoed Shelby.
“Don’t worry about it. They know you had nothing to do with any of the current troubles, and they won’t be questioning you again. You could probably commit murder in front of the officers and they wouldn’t notice.” Grandma turned over a piece of paper, studying the back. “You’re welcome.”
I gaped at her, but it was Shelby who spoke, saying, “I thought you weren’t a receptive telepath.”
“Brainwashing is projective, as it turns out. Who knew?” Grandma raised her head and smiled sunnily. “Again, you’re welcome.”
“Thank you,” I said hastily, as I closed the fridge. “Has the dry cleaner called yet? We need to get Shelby into something a little less obtrusive before we break into the zoo.”
“They have, and her clothes are upstairs,” said Grandma. “It’s amazing what a fifty-dollar tip will do for a rush job.”
Shelby’s eyes widened. “I—”
“Don’t worry about it.” Grandma dismissed the matter with a wave of her hand. “If our little arsonist hadn’t burned down your apartment, they might have come after Alex here, and there’s no way we would have been able to get the mice out in time. Consider it hazard pay, and go get your clothes on. I don’t want you getting that skirt dirty.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Shelby, before turning and fleeing the kitchen for the dubious safety of my bedroom.
“She thinks you don’t like her,” I said, opening the V-8. “Brainwashing the police probably doesn’t help, although I think she’ll understand your reasons once she’s done being unnerved.”
“I don’t,” said Grandma, with a shrug. “But you do, and that’s good enough for me, at least for right now. If she hurts you, she’s going to learn the real reason you shouldn’t mess around with cuckoos.” She stood, walking over to ruffle my hair. “It’s nice to see you with a girl of your own species. I want great-grandchildren someday, and let’s face it, you’re my best bet.”
“Grandma!” I said, scandalized.
“What?” She shook her head. “Verity won’t have children as long as she’s dancing professionally, Antimony is . . . well, she’s Antimony and requires special considerations, and even if she completely recovers, Sarah is unlikely to ever get within ten yards of a male Johrlac without screaming her head off.”
“There’s always Artie,” I said.
Grandma sighed. “Oh, believe me, I know there’s always Artie. He called again this morning to find out whether I was ready to have him come for a visit.”
“That might not be such a bad idea,” I said carefully. “Sarah’s more focused lately. Seeing him could be what she needs to pull herself the rest of the way together.”
“Or it could make her fall further apart when she panicked and tried to put herself together without being ready,” said Grandma. She shook her head. “No. Artie won’t be visiting until she can ask for him herself. And even if those two eventually figure things out, they’re not genetically compatible.”
“True.” Artie was a blood relative, half-human, half-incubus. Sarah was well, Sarah. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to jump straight into the baby-making business with Shelby.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” said Grandma, with a smile. “Either way, she’s good for you. Now go do something illegal and dangerous with your girlfriend.”
“My family did not prepare me to date like a normal human,” I muttered.
Grandma just laughed.
Even closed, the zoo was easy to access; it had its own road, after all, and they couldn’t seal that off from the public. Still, we didn’t want to head down the main drive. We would have been too obvious. I turned off onto one of the maintenance roads as soon as the opportunity arose, driving through the trees as we paralleled the zoo’s rear retaining wall.
