((Co-written with Amare ))
?What we want, what we really want,? he said, pushing a pen behind one of his ears as he looked at the projected screen of their calculations, ?is an intuitive function. Objectives, needs, all of that is going to change depending on the situation and our unit needs to be able to have some way of incorporating that in better than she has.?
?No, that?ll just cloud some of the discerning features we spent? what, three years in development trying to make? It?s just better if she can perceive the current situation, be it a battle field or a conference room.?
Jefferies turned in his chair, smiling at the other, ?You think? How?s the saying go? If we don?t learn from history we?re doomed to repeat it? I?m not saying that she needs to account for all previous variables, but that she should be able to extrapolate from previous information so that her ability to discern the present is better. Like I said, basically, intuition.?
His partner frowned, mulling it over. They discussed some of the other variables before he spoke on the topic again, ?Maybe you?re just thinking too small.?
?An intuition function is thinking too small??
?Yeah, it is. She needs to be able to connect with her targets and possible targets. It needs to be more than intuition, it needs to be knowing. They need to imprint on her and be an extension of her. Not to be dramatic, but people can be predictable, but we aren?t just talking about people. We?re talking about hundreds of thousands of races with their own personal, religious, social and economic motives. Now we could bypass all of that if she was able to directly connect with whatever environment we put her in as a general function, not specific.?
Jefferies thought over what his partner said and spoke, slowly, as he looked at the fifth revision of the unit?s diagram, ?That?s not intuition, that?s connectivity.?
?It?ll have to get close to be able to connect.?
?She,? he corrected, tilting his head to the side, ?and she will.?
***
There was a feeling in her chest she couldn?t identify. It wasn?t that unusual an occurrence, honestly; even after nearly two years, she was still learning how to recognize and process the more complex emotions. Even so, this particular feeling nagged at her, driving her to restlessness. It was like there was a phone alarm going off at the very outermost edges of her hearing, too far away to accurately discern its origin but too close to block out or ignore.
The mercurial teen walked, trying to figure it out.
Whatever it was, it was too distant and undefined to have anything specific to do with Quinn, and anyway the green pattern on her left wrist -- the wolf phone, she and Hex jokingly called it -- was silent, unlit and still. It wasn?t about Hex. It wasn?t about Sabine. She thought about Jackie and then discarded that option as well, between Jackie and Des and Pharlen, there couldn?t be anything wrong there that the quirky trio wasn?t more than capable of fixing on their own.
Was it really something that was wrong, though? Saila couldn?t be sure. Something just felt ?off.
If it had to do with someone she knew, there were only three more possibilities she had enough connection to --real or perceived-- to preoccupy her so thoroughly, and both options there seemed equally unlikely. Cane and Sal had become too distant, too remote. She almost never felt the telltale static of the warlock?s presence around town anymore, and she only ever seemed to find traces of the Spaniard?s vibrance after the fact. The only other candidate, though, was the only one of them she couldn?t feel at all, and the answer she kept coming back to accordingly.
The girl looked up suddenly, realizing that her absent wanderings had led her almost unerringly to that same answer, right to the very front door of a silent, empty, mostly anonymous looking mansion.
Amare.
Saila let herself inside with the key he?d left for her, walking to the lightswitch on the far wall out of memory, not that she particularly needed it. The ritual was mostly to prevent the neighbors from thinking the place had been abandoned-- she brought in the mail and any flyers that had been left on the mailbox or the doorstep, turned on some lights and turned off others. The place felt weirdly heavy without its owner, her gaze falling thoughtfully over the once treasured mannequin that had been discarded, forgotten, in the dining room.
She picked Mannique up and moved her to the kitchen. Maybe a change of scenery would do her some good.
The more she thought about it, the more that seemed like the only feasible answer. It had to be something to do with Amare. It had been more than a month since she saw the rabid wolf last, two moons so far. She couldn?t feel anything of him anywhere in the city, couldn?t see him anywhere in her mind no matter how hard she concentrated. He was just gone, which meant he had to be off plane somewhere, likely in America. She missed her Rabid ?brother?, of course. She worried about him sometimes, sure. It was hard not to when she considered the state of mind he?d been in before he left, how unnaturally kind and thoughtful he was to her. How jarringly patient.
This was something more than missing him, though. Something beyond generalized concern. Saila found herself frowning as she climbed the stairs, turning off the lights she?d left on in the guest room before she moved down the hall to the master and turned those lights on instead.
She pulled her sparkly, jewel encrusted rainbow colored phone from her pocket, accessed the messaging program, scrolled down until she found the phrase Rabid Baby. Pulling up the contact, she typed the message quickly and pressed send before she could talk herself out of it.
Text to Amare: Hey, are you okay? I have this weird feeling and you know how much I hate feelings.
Text to Saila: I'm fine. You take care of the place? There's a small spark of adrenaline, maybe because the message concentrated her on where he was in America.
The buzzing of her phone just moments later startled her; she hadn't expected to hear back from him so quickly. Scanning the message, she sat on the edge of his bed and more or less immediately regretted it, getting back to her feet.
Text to Amare: I?m here right now. Mannique?s making dinner.
Text to Saila: Thanks Then it seemed the world got a little more quiet.
The teen frowned. Thanks? Amare said ?thanks?? The tight feeling in her chest got tighter. She read the message one more time, then pulled up another contact on her phone. Text to Hex: Who do you know can get me off world? I need to go. Something?s wrong with Amare.
?What we want, what we really want,? he said, pushing a pen behind one of his ears as he looked at the projected screen of their calculations, ?is an intuitive function. Objectives, needs, all of that is going to change depending on the situation and our unit needs to be able to have some way of incorporating that in better than she has.?
?No, that?ll just cloud some of the discerning features we spent? what, three years in development trying to make? It?s just better if she can perceive the current situation, be it a battle field or a conference room.?
Jefferies turned in his chair, smiling at the other, ?You think? How?s the saying go? If we don?t learn from history we?re doomed to repeat it? I?m not saying that she needs to account for all previous variables, but that she should be able to extrapolate from previous information so that her ability to discern the present is better. Like I said, basically, intuition.?
His partner frowned, mulling it over. They discussed some of the other variables before he spoke on the topic again, ?Maybe you?re just thinking too small.?
?An intuition function is thinking too small??
?Yeah, it is. She needs to be able to connect with her targets and possible targets. It needs to be more than intuition, it needs to be knowing. They need to imprint on her and be an extension of her. Not to be dramatic, but people can be predictable, but we aren?t just talking about people. We?re talking about hundreds of thousands of races with their own personal, religious, social and economic motives. Now we could bypass all of that if she was able to directly connect with whatever environment we put her in as a general function, not specific.?
Jefferies thought over what his partner said and spoke, slowly, as he looked at the fifth revision of the unit?s diagram, ?That?s not intuition, that?s connectivity.?
?It?ll have to get close to be able to connect.?
?She,? he corrected, tilting his head to the side, ?and she will.?
***
There was a feeling in her chest she couldn?t identify. It wasn?t that unusual an occurrence, honestly; even after nearly two years, she was still learning how to recognize and process the more complex emotions. Even so, this particular feeling nagged at her, driving her to restlessness. It was like there was a phone alarm going off at the very outermost edges of her hearing, too far away to accurately discern its origin but too close to block out or ignore.
The mercurial teen walked, trying to figure it out.
Whatever it was, it was too distant and undefined to have anything specific to do with Quinn, and anyway the green pattern on her left wrist -- the wolf phone, she and Hex jokingly called it -- was silent, unlit and still. It wasn?t about Hex. It wasn?t about Sabine. She thought about Jackie and then discarded that option as well, between Jackie and Des and Pharlen, there couldn?t be anything wrong there that the quirky trio wasn?t more than capable of fixing on their own.
Was it really something that was wrong, though? Saila couldn?t be sure. Something just felt ?off.
If it had to do with someone she knew, there were only three more possibilities she had enough connection to --real or perceived-- to preoccupy her so thoroughly, and both options there seemed equally unlikely. Cane and Sal had become too distant, too remote. She almost never felt the telltale static of the warlock?s presence around town anymore, and she only ever seemed to find traces of the Spaniard?s vibrance after the fact. The only other candidate, though, was the only one of them she couldn?t feel at all, and the answer she kept coming back to accordingly.
The girl looked up suddenly, realizing that her absent wanderings had led her almost unerringly to that same answer, right to the very front door of a silent, empty, mostly anonymous looking mansion.
Amare.
Saila let herself inside with the key he?d left for her, walking to the lightswitch on the far wall out of memory, not that she particularly needed it. The ritual was mostly to prevent the neighbors from thinking the place had been abandoned-- she brought in the mail and any flyers that had been left on the mailbox or the doorstep, turned on some lights and turned off others. The place felt weirdly heavy without its owner, her gaze falling thoughtfully over the once treasured mannequin that had been discarded, forgotten, in the dining room.
She picked Mannique up and moved her to the kitchen. Maybe a change of scenery would do her some good.
The more she thought about it, the more that seemed like the only feasible answer. It had to be something to do with Amare. It had been more than a month since she saw the rabid wolf last, two moons so far. She couldn?t feel anything of him anywhere in the city, couldn?t see him anywhere in her mind no matter how hard she concentrated. He was just gone, which meant he had to be off plane somewhere, likely in America. She missed her Rabid ?brother?, of course. She worried about him sometimes, sure. It was hard not to when she considered the state of mind he?d been in before he left, how unnaturally kind and thoughtful he was to her. How jarringly patient.
This was something more than missing him, though. Something beyond generalized concern. Saila found herself frowning as she climbed the stairs, turning off the lights she?d left on in the guest room before she moved down the hall to the master and turned those lights on instead.
She pulled her sparkly, jewel encrusted rainbow colored phone from her pocket, accessed the messaging program, scrolled down until she found the phrase Rabid Baby. Pulling up the contact, she typed the message quickly and pressed send before she could talk herself out of it.
Text to Amare: Hey, are you okay? I have this weird feeling and you know how much I hate feelings.
Text to Saila: I'm fine. You take care of the place? There's a small spark of adrenaline, maybe because the message concentrated her on where he was in America.
The buzzing of her phone just moments later startled her; she hadn't expected to hear back from him so quickly. Scanning the message, she sat on the edge of his bed and more or less immediately regretted it, getting back to her feet.
Text to Amare: I?m here right now. Mannique?s making dinner.
Text to Saila: Thanks Then it seemed the world got a little more quiet.
The teen frowned. Thanks? Amare said ?thanks?? The tight feeling in her chest got tighter. She read the message one more time, then pulled up another contact on her phone. Text to Hex: Who do you know can get me off world? I need to go. Something?s wrong with Amare.