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+--- Thread: Duality Unto Reality - Part 1: "Neutrality" (/showthread.php?tid=27284)
Duality Unto Reality - Part 1: "Neutrality" - Mystica - 04-15-2017
Part One: "Neutrality"
Curious as it was for the acolytes of the Sleeping God to find that a deposit in the exact amount of $856.85 added to their personal bank accounts, the memo attached to the transaction made it quite clear as to why it had occurred: “NYC → GVA, Aer Lingus 104.”
This development was most intriguing to Zahra Nassar, of all Mystica’s servants. Rather familiar with cybercrime herself, she caught herself wondering how exactly her superior had gone about diverting funds into multiple secure accounts. The coding algorithms themselves seemed implausible to decrypt. Not impossible, but implausible. She’d committed similar acts of digital theft multiple times in the past herself, but an incoming text from the Old One’s apprentice, Annie Gardner, reinforced the sheer infeasibility of the act – to manifest invisible currency into the accounts of at least two people simultaneously. Again, not impossible. Just impressive.
“You too?” the text read.
With a light sigh, Zahra scrounged her minimal possessions into her go-bag and mentally prepped herself for what was sure to be a long trip. Her roommate, currently out on an excursion downtown with her suitor of the week, wouldn’t think twice of Zahra’s absence. It had become something of a commonality. Once every fortnight or so, Zahra would receive some form of communication from the Old One and off she would go, never quite sure if this would be the misadventure that would ultimately spell her doom.
The usual task of moving through the airport went relatively smoothly. Zahra had all her papers in order, fake though they may have been. She’d grown quite skilled at forging official documents. All it took was a steady hand, some editing software, and the right connections. Watermarks, gloss paper, legitimate tracking numbers… Nothing was too much for her. Well, almost nothing.
Pity it was such a beautiful day. The square was abound and abuzz with the happy clamour of human life. It was almost picturesque, a scene ripped straight from a Rockwell painting – children with one hand clasped by their parent and the other loosely gripping the string of a balloon. Businessmen clad in tidy suits walked quickly along their way. A few of them, foreigners to the city, stumbled about with their noses pressed to the screens of smartphones. How foolish of them to broadcast their phone’s location in the presence of Zahra Nassar.
“How about this one?” she asked, swiping onto one of their phone’s data pockets. She leaned her phone sideways to allow Annie a better look. From their position seated on a bench at the southwest corner of the square, they had a great view of the playing field. Without moving her head, Annie gave the screen a quick read-over. Were it not for her trained nerves, she might have blushed. Instead, she offered a meek snicker.
“Geez, where do you even buy something like that?”
Perfect deflection. Annie had gotten very good at that over the last few years. Crazy situations required a strange set of minds, which tended to attract further crazy situations. Every few weeks, sometimes more frequently, some of them would be contacted. The media varied – from cryptic text messages to psychic telegrams – but it happened like clockwork. Always something to be done. Even if that meant looking at a digital receipt for a 6ft. long, double-ended black sex toy.
Today’s “something” was much like many that had come before it: initially unclear. Zahra and Annie were just following the orders they had been given. Sit. Wait. In Zahra’s less compulsive thought processes, this precept may as well have been permission to have some fun. So they were: people watching…with the added bonus of their particular skillsets.
“Those two,” said Annie, gesturing with her chin toward a young couple, a gangly dark-haired lad and a cheery blonde. Curious, Zahra leaned back on the bench and awaited Annie’s explanation.
“Notice the light pattern bruising near her collarbone.”
Zahra smirked. This was going to be a good one.
“Semicircular, extending within her collar’s ridge upward. That’s the type you see in inexperienced newcomers to light S&M stuff. They want to be kinky, try out some new things in the bedroom…dorm room, whatever. But look at them.”
They did so, breaking their cool façade to openly observe the couple halfway across the plaza. They seemed happy, but something in their deliberate yet twitchy manner suggested something obvious, something unspoken. He seemed to observe her every movement, while she seemed far too concerned with the very same. Eye contact was brief and stilted.
“Come on, girl,” said Zahra. “Whatcha got for me?”
Annie flashed a sideways smile. Reading body language wasn’t hard. But her study of human sociality had been undertaken in a manner considered most radical, even among fringe scholars. She had made a very human attempt to remove herself completely from the very concept of being human. Not as difficult as it may sound, considering her sometimes-mental sometimes-spiritual connection to a Slumbering God. Like an alien, she examined others through the eyes of “another.”
Her pupils now glossed over in concentration, Annie narrowed her brow. This used to take up a lot more energy. Now? It was a stroll in the pastries.
“I got a failing relationship, Houston,” Annie muttered in deadpan. “She worries that she is inadequate. Not pretty enough, she fears. That he is smarter than she is. He too has fears. Dread concerning the truth that she is too pretty for him. And he can sense the inverse – the fact that he is more intelligent than she. A series of imbalances that attempt balance in spite. They’ve had trouble in paradise lately.”
Listening intently next to her, Zahra sipped at her drive-thru coffee. Though bitter, it washed down a lot easier with the sweet schadenfreude Annie was feeding her. Happiness was best served light and sweet; just how Zahra liked her women. Something different from her own flesh, tanned by the sands and host to an absinthian heart. She nodded along as Annie continued to list off her deductions.
“She keeps looking down to her right-hand pants pocket. Waiting on a text from someone important to her. If not her boy right there, who? But judging from the modest clothing and skittish motions, she’s not cheating on him. Not yet. See the cross around her neck? Jesus wouldn’t approve of unfaithfulness. And he just wants to hold onto her. So they read something about communication being the key to a healthy relationship. She, being the black sheep, wants him to be more aggressive and assertive. And, being stupid people, they do the stupidest thing they can: misinterpret that Aesop. He gets dominant in the bedroom…dorm room, whatever. Oh…and she’s not sure if she liked it.”
“Wow, impressive.” Zahra gave an amused clap. “You almost sound like—“
“Me?”
The girls jumped in surprise as the borrowed and perpetually-stubbled face of Marcel Lecourt suddenly appeared between theirs. In the minuscule time it had taken Annie to blink her eye, the Old One had reconfigured his mass behind their bench. Mystica chuckled to himself. The girls were still panting, trying to catch their breaths after his sudden appearance.
“Fuck, I thought we agreed you would cut back on doing that!” Zahra wheezed.
“Cut back,” noted Mystica. “Didn’t say it would stop completely. I’m…weaning myself off it.”
With deft hands, he snuck a single cigarette out of the pack resting inside his sport coat’s inner left breast pocket. As he placed it between his lips, the world moved in sequence around him. Then came a ripple in the aether. The world now literally revolved around him. He’d shifted his mass – however momentarily – to create a density greater than that of earth itself. Time and space, in a flicker, were now bending to him in an attempt to correct for this sudden discrepancy in the natural order.
Would this be harmful for the denizens of Earth? Of course, in time. But mere critical seconds, or even moments, meant nothing in the infinite expanse of existence. This meddling with the time-stream was naught but a statistical outlier. Another tool for the Slumbering God to utilize at the expense of all around him.
Time was moving at a crawl, with the exception of Mystica and his beloved followers. This, it was to be assumed, would give them the time they needed to discuss what needed to be done.
“Isn’t Switzerland lovely?” the Ancient mused, gesturing to the distant mountain range that overlooked the busy city around them. “Ah, yes. A land of innate neutrality. Even in the midst of the 20th century, the bloodiest of centuries in modern memory, this place, these people, they chose no one side. ‘Twas a fine balancing act – a talent that continues even today.”
Having finally caught her breath but with lungs still aching from the sudden egress of air, Annie sighed. Mystica was off on a monologue. A precursor this was to him finally announcing their purpose in dropping everything to answer his summons.
“So,” he continued, taking a long drag off his cigarette, “what would happen if this oh-so-finely maintained neutrality were to be broken?”
“What, you’re gonna have us fuck with that peace?” asked Zahra, brow furrowed.
“Not at all, my dear artifice mistress. Quite the antithesis. Rather, I would have you maintain the neutrality. You lot are to play peacekeeper today.”
The girls glanced to each other with curious expressions. You lot? It was a collective noun, lot. But with only the two of them here…
Ah. A sight from across the plaza answered their interrogative visages. Approaching them in real-time was the handsome shape of one Miles Baldwin. With two cardboard coffee cups in hand, he dodged around the slow-moving folk around him. Luckily, he had completed his purchase just prior to Mystica’s slowing of the earth.
Finally, he approached the bench and handed one of the cups over to Mystica, who took a massive swig of the burning liquid inside before puffing his bifter once more.
“Ah, Earl Grey.” He looked to Miles with appreciation. “You know how I operate.”
“Ha,” Miles guffawed in return, sipping his own drink. “I know how I operate even better.”
Zahra shot him a questioning gaze.
“Irish coffee,” he answered with a sly wink. “Best way to start the day.”
“It’s past noon,” said Annie coolly. Miles could only shrug in response. It was morning for him, at least. Not to mention the fact that they were all jet-lagged as all hell. A nearly eight-hour flight had utterly decimated their circadian rhythms. But to a habitual night owl like him, this was nothing.
“Right now,” Mystica continued in raised voice, so as to regain their collective attention, “there are two threats to the established peace in this most scenic polis. Two bombs. Two perpetrators that must be removed from the equation. Problem being, my lovelies, that you cannot stop them both. A sad lesson to learn, but necessary. As much as you’d like to save all of these wretched worms you refer to as ‘your fellow man,’ you must learn…”
With little ceremony, the Ancient took one last drag, plucked the cigarette from his lips, and tossed it to the stone tile below before grinding out the last little embers of life with the heel of his shoe.
“You cannot save them all.”