ANGEL PASTA: PART EIGHT
"In that case," Angel said. "I'd say you help me rescue Patty."After all, Patty knew a lot more about this Epsilon Organization, and would thus be in a better position to know if they were truly acting in everyone’s best interests. It would also be a real test of the Organization’s allegiances, to help her this way.
Beam’s face brightened. “So you DO want to rescue your new love interest? That’s so sweet.”
Angel bristled. “Me and Patty are working together in a professional capacity,” she stated. “I’ll thank you to keep any possible future personal relationship out of this.”
If they were going to be working together on this rescue, a flirty attitude was not something she was prepared to tolerate.
“Of course, of course,” Beam answered. Then she winked.
Angel reached out to grasp Beam’s shoulder, and was only briefly put off when her hand, and then the rest of her arm, passed right through Beam’s supposedly solid body. At the least, this woman hadn’t been kidding about being made up of light beams.
“I’m serious,” Angel said, shaking out her palm. “I gather you’re not from around here, so perhaps you don’t know, but guess what? Affection between females is not exactly mainstream in France in 1963. Or anywhere else in the world.”
Perhaps it was her tone more than her words, but with that Beam pursed her lips, seemingly in thought. “Oh. I admit I… hadn’t considered that.”
Unbelievable. “You were too wrapped up in your own mission to properly read the room?”
“Yes,” Beam answered simply.
Angel rolled her eyes. She wondered if an apology was coming next, but with that, Beam seemed to consider the matter closed. Angel wanted to be upset by this, and yet the blonde hologram also still looked adorably cute, somehow.
“Pardon the question, but how did you even get hired for your job?” Angel challenged.
She suspected nepotism. Maybe whomever had designed Beam had decided to then hire their creation to also be their employee. Without a résumé. Maybe Angel could even move up the chain of command and get someone else to be her contact point.
Beam bit down on her lower lip. “I wasn’t hired. I was more recruited.”
All the red flags came back into position with respect to the Epsilon Organization. “You are working against your will?”
“Oh no,” Beam assured. “Doing this job is ever so much better than how things were for me before.”
“Why? Because you get to have your way with pretty women?”
For the first time, Beam looked uncomfortable. “We are straying from the point.”
“Oh, we absolutely are NOT,” Angel said firmly. “You want us to work together on a rescue? My trust comes with conditions. One now being, knowing who the hell recruited you, and why. Granted, this street may not be the best place for that discussion. We can take this into my van, off to your home base, or to another location of your choosing.”
Beam’s gaze seemed to now be searching Angel’s expression for something. Angel steeled herself to avoid falling for any doe-eyed pleas, as well as to keep her own gaze from searching back. Several seconds ticked by.
“What?” Angel demanded at last.
“It’s interesting. You really do care, Angel,” Beam said, her tone implying it was more a conclusion than a revelation. “Perhaps, for you, I can bend policy.”
Angel nodded. “Fine. Good. If you need to consult with your superiors first, I’ll wait.”
Beam shook her head. “Oh, I have none. I work alone. Which can get… rather lonely,” she admitted, shifting her weight (did holograms have weight?) back and forth from foot to foot.
At least now they were getting somewhere. Isolation could well be a reason for Beam to be not only out of touch, but inclined to jump to using intimate relations as a form of reward.
Angel walked around to open up her van, then gestured in invitation. Hoping that Beam wouldn’t misinterpret her offering up a more private location, given how she’d provided some earlier context.
Beam seemed to understand. She nodded, reaching up to fiddle with her earring briefly before climbing into the back of the van. Angel followed, shutting the door behind them.
“My original world, it was very different from yours,” Beam began, as Angel hunted through her supplies for a boxed juice or something to offer. Only belatedly remembering that Beam was insubstantial, and might not need to drink anyway. So much for being a good host.
“I imagine a world of autonomous holograms would be different,” Angel said, turning back to Beam and sitting on the floor of the van across from her. She had always kept the blonde in view from the corner of her eye, of course. So far Beam was acting on the level.
At that comment, Beam shook her head. “I am unique. My world was populated by humans, much like yours. I presume I was constructed by one of them, and then rejected.”
“Rejected?”
“My first memory is waking up in an alleyway, knowing only my name and basic programming. How to speak, how I can recharge, how much I love only women, and so forth. It is likely that this last is what led to my being discarded in the first place, with a wipe of any prior memories.”
Again, Angel began to wonder if she was being played, but Beam seemed sincere. Well, at least her medical degree had included some psychology classes. “How did that make you feel, Beam?” Angel asked.
Beam looked genuinely surprised by the question, then thoughtful. “Broken. Useless. Undesirable.”
“Did it occur to you that the fact that you were discarded, and not simply disassembled or destroyed, meant that someone somewhere did have an emotional attachment to you?”
Beam’s innocent eyes went wide. “No.” Her lip quivered. “I thank you for that new thought, Angel. So very much.”
“No problem.” Angel adjusted her hairband. Bunny Ears Psychology, sure. “So, you were in a society, being rejected for lesbianism,” she said, inviting further comment after what she judged was enough of a pause.
Beam refocussed. “Oh, I believe you misunderstood. I wasn’t rejected because I loved women. I was rejected because I didn’t love men.”
Angel frowned. “Isn’t that the same thing?”
Beam shook her head so vigorously, her hair danced. “Not at all. See, that’s the big difference. On my Earth it was all about free love, regardless of gender. Thus those who only liked one sex, be it male or female, were seen as the strange and unnatural people. For the aromantic, it was a double whammy.”
It took a moment to process that. “So, on your world, everyone was bisexual? Heterosexual people were seen as weird, for not also liking their own sex?”
“Correct,” Beam agreed.
“Huh. Okay then,” Angel said, no longer sure where to go with this.
“We also embraced polyamory,” Beam added.
“Oh. Of course.” That didn’t help.
“And our society was at least fifty years ahead of where you are now,” Beam finished. “Which is why my very existence must seem like a technological marvel to you, though I admit I was hardly conventional technology on my world.”
That was another point Angel had wondered about, but it raised an interesting point. “Okay Beam, so then could you not simply have reprogrammed yourself to love men, in order to fit in?”
Beam lifted her eyebrows. “Oh? Could you not do the same to yourself, to fit into your own society here?” she challenged.
Touché. Angel bowed her head. “My sincere apologies, Beam. For a moment I saw you as tech, rather than as a person.”
Beam smiled. “No apology necessary. I am tech, after all. Which, full disclosure, my world also didn’t like. Some simply saw me as a predictive algorithm. Some, as an escort service.”
“So you got a double whammy too.”
“Yes. Truth is, while I am tech, I am much like a person. You think, whereas I can define new subroutines, adjust my thought processes, and yes, I suspect I could even delve deep enough into my basic nature to love men too. If I had to. However, I also know that this would make me very, very depressed.”
“I see.” They were starting to toe the line into giving Angel an existential crisis about what it even meant to be human, or to experience love.
Beam seemed to sense her unease, and changed the subject. “So one day, I was teleported up to a space station. The Epsilon station. They’d recently lost their commander, and it was through a series of anonymous communications that I learned how they wanted me to serve as her replacement.”
“Anonymous? There were no other staff that you saw?”
“Exactly. And at first I was hesitant, because while it’s true I was shunned on my world, I could still find some who were willing to look the other way, and, er, indulge me. Whereas this station was a mystery, and seemed like it would lead to a life of isolation.”
Angel nodded. “What changed your mind?”
“Partly the mystery itself,” Beam admitted. “With a dash of not wanting to regret passing up my only chance to get away. Then any final reservations vanished once I saw what my first mission would entail.” She smiled again.
Angel immediately saw where this was going. “A pretty woman?”
A blush soon framed the smile. “Yes. But to be clear, removing potentially harmful artifacts from worlds where they were not supposed to be, this was factored in as being beneficial too.”
“All right.” A new thought occurred. “Wait. Beam, do you see all women involved in your missions as potential, er, girlfriends?”
“Yes,” Beam said, without hesitation. “In my society of free love, all people you’re attracted to are desirable companions. So, Angel, if you ever change your mind about me, do let me know.”
“Stop. Beam, you’re not in that society now. Shouldn’t you create a mental setting for just friends, or something similar?”
Beam tilted her head sideways. “I am not certain I understand.”
The job isolation factor was definitely not good for Beam. “There’s women that you may want to simply go out to tea with. To talk about your missions, or about soap operas, whatever. Or perhaps there’s men you might like to talk with, about sports and beer. You understand?”
Beam’s head tilt became even more pronounced, her expression more baffled. “No. Why would I do this?”
“It’s…” Angel rubbed her forehead. There was too much genuine puzzlement and confusion in Beam here for her to want to unpack it now. “Know what? Another time. I’m currently convinced that your Organization, mysterious as it is, did recruit you honestly. Meaning two questions remain.”
Beam straightened her posture. “Name them.”
“First, if you’re truly based on some space station, how is it you even need assistance in tracking down your artifact?”
“My work upgrading the station sensors is incomplete. There may also be some sort of shielding involved here. Our need for assistance on the ground is genuine, believe me.”
Angel did. She supposed there was no way for her to verify that, given her lack of technical expertise, but it’s unlikely that Beam could have bluffed her way through Patty. Plus, she trusted her own empathic ability here.
“Secondly… what is your plan to rescue Patty?”
“For that, you are taking point,” Beam reminded. “This is your environment, not ours. We’re simply passing through, trying to recover this artifact. You tell me what we should do to help.”
Exactly the impartial answer Angel had hoped for. “All right, give me a little time to work it out,” she said. “I don’t suppose you could provide me with a layout of the Legrand mansion?”
“Hmm. Meaning you would have gone to the records department and looked up the building plans yourself, but I stalled you, thus you figure I can make up for it by getting them for you now?” Beam extrapolated.
“Ah. Precisement,” Angel said, chuckling. Impartial, but biased in her favour. Perhaps this alliance would work out after all.
The first thing Angel did was leave an answering machine message for Mimi.
If she and Patty were both caught, they needed someone on the outside who knew of Legrand’s plans involving the jellyfish and the museum. The police not being the best option there, as they would mess up her plans for a rescue.
The second thing she did was devise a couple of options, figuring that charging in with her first idea of recycling the frog leg inspector idea would be reckless and unnecessary. After all, she had never been good at disguises. Though maybe Beam would have tips.
The better option now felt like setting off the fire alarm system of the house. She knew from the floor plans she’d received that they could do it via the kitchen, getting Legrand and anyone else to evacuate. Or at the least, know where in the house they’d be located as they investigated.
If they evacuated with Patty, that would also solve a lot of problems.
The trouble was, if they instead tracked down the deception, there would be a very narrow window of time for her to track down her new friend.
The other alternative was to simply go in a window and sneak around inside. She had managed it once already, without the layout, and Beam had said she could still run interference. This was a lot riskier, and felt more morally dubious, but then maybe she would have time to grab more information about the museum connection.
Angel drummed her fingers on the dashboard. Beam was waiting for her plan. What should she decide?
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I think I may pause things here for a bit, let me know if you’re aware of better web hosting. Poll will be open until at least through March 8th.
As to the other options, had museum investigation been chosen, we would have seen Mimi in person, and they would have learned what that’s about. Had Epsilon backed off, a bunch of Beam’s dialogue would have been with her computer, interspersed with artifact search results. The idea of this being a prequel has been a thing since the new year. We got the rescue, which didn’t quite reach as far as I thought, hence decide on the full plan now. Thanks as always for reading.)
