ANGEL PASTA: PART EIGHT

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?

poll.fm/13417564

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.)

ANGEL PASTA: PART SEVEN

She pulled the chair out of the way, dropped to the floor and crawled into the alcove beneath the desk. She now couldn’t see the main part of the room, as the desk wasn’t open all the way through, but could hear clearly when Julien Legrand entered the room less than a minute later.

She knew it was him, as he muttered, “I’m coming, I’m coming,” on his way to pick up the ringing phone.

“Oui? I am in the middle of something,” Legrand said, taking the call.

Angel had no idea what the person on the other end of the conversation said to that.

“What I am hearing,” came Legrand’s reply after a moment, “is that I am paying you too much. Because I pay you to get rid of any officials who begin poking around in this way.”

Another pause followed, during which it occurred to Angel to hold her walkie-talkie device up and activate it. That way Patty could hear what was going on. Angel reasoned her new friend was smart enough not to think it meant Angel had been captured.

“Non,” Legrand insisted. “If we create more diversions, they will simply look like diversions. The jellyfish have everyone talking about the water. I am hoping to create more of them. This must be sufficient. Simply move faster, and you will have nothing to worry about.”

Angel realized her right leg was starting to throb, bunched up as she was in the small space. She hoped she wasn’t about to let out a noise in pain or irritation.

“Very well,” Legrand sighed. “I will send my men to help out. I am serious though, I now give you twenty-four hours. One of the women poking around town is already threatening to take information to the press.”

Apparently Patty’s threat was being taken seriously. This was good, though also potentially bad.

“I did not say I was concerned,” Legrand said, now irritated. “They are only women, and I should be able to make anything I decide to do to them look like an accident.”

Yes, that definitely wasn’t good. Angel wondered how much of this Patty had been able to hear.

“Fine. Do not call me, I will call you,” Legrand concluded.

At that, Angel expected to hear him drop the phone receiver back in its cradle. It didn’t happen.

“Fine, fine, give me the number,” he said instead, irritation shifting to exasperation.

It sounded like he was writing something on the pad she had noticed earlier, and only after that did Legrand finally hang up.

“So hard to find good help these days,” he muttered. He then picked up the pile of papers that Angel had noted on the desk, dropping them into the still open desk drawer.

‘Ooh, do NOT lock those away,’ Angel mentally willed.

Alas, he closed and locked up the drawer before heading back towards the hallway.

Angel resisted the urge to kick her foot into the desk in frustration, partly so as to not be heard, but more because there wasn’t enough space to do it satisfactorily. She simply balled her hands into fists as Legrand departed, closing the study door behind him.

Angel did her usual count to ten before emerging back out into the room. The small key was no longer on the corner of the desk, so Legrand must have taken it. Angel verified the desk drawer would not open, then glared at it.

She prided herself on being a good doctor, a good investigator… and an honest woman. Which meant her skills didn’t extend to lock picking. Indeed, the very fact that she was in essence breaking and entering here, the open window not withstanding, was still bothering her.

She was not going to get to see those papers.

She kicked the desk. It still felt unsatisfactory.

At least she remained undiscovered. And she had learned more.

[caption id=“attachment_3575” align=“alignright” width=“300”] Distracting jellyfish[/caption]

The ‘Distraction at Sea’ with the jellyfish was indeed attempting to draw attention away from whatever Legrand was truly planning. Which had to be something fairly spectacular, if he wished to garner the attention of the Octopus organization.

So, perhaps she and Patty could work out what this was? But perhaps not.

Angel did another quick search for anything else out in the open that might provide a clue. Including taking a closer look at the articles on the cork board. Alas, while they helped her get a better sense of Legrand himself - mostly verifying that he was full of himself, though also possibly in financial difficulty, which was interesting - that was all.

She did spot hinges on a picture frame, and locate a hidden safe. But it was locked up tighter than the desk drawer, with no hint of the combination anywhere.

Angel wondered about going out to explore another room, perhaps even trying to check out the basement, but it had now been over ten minutes. She was not very sneaky by nature - the bunny ears not making that any easier, she supposed - and reasoned she could only push her luck here so far.

She knew much more than before she had come into the house. That would have to do.

Angel headed for the window, figuring that was her best way out. As she did, she swept her gaze over the room one more time.

Her eyes fell on the notepad near the telephone. Upon which had been scribbled a phone number.

Did she dare?

If so, it was probably best to do it now, from Legrand’s own office, in case they had a way of tracking the call. Not to mention, at this time, it could still be framed as a follow-up to the call she had overheard.

Angel began dialling before she could talk herself out of it.

The phone rang twice on the other end, and then to Angel’s surprise, a woman picked up on the other end. “Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind,” she said. Angel didn’t recognize the voice.

“Legrand does not change his mind,” Angel said, neutrally. “But the men he is sending. Did you want them to arrive at your place of business, or at your current location?”

Her question was met with silence.

Surely Angel’s own voice was an unknown here too, but Angel was invoking information only Legrand would have. Was this mystery woman about to call her out? Or was the issue that the question itself was somehow enough to stop the conversation in its tracks?

“I suppose a few people arriving all at once might be seen as suspicious,” the woman said at last. “But don’t send them next door. Stagger their arrival here by a half hour or so.”

Angel now knew this woman was currently next door to her place of business. Was there any way to figure out where that was, without lying like a cheap rug?

“Very well. We could also have them park for a while out front?” Angel suggested.

“Hein? Any car on the street outside the museum at this time of day requires a permit,” the woman objected, this time immediately. “Did no one tell you this? Put Legrand back on the line.”

“You think we cannot fake permits?” Angel shot back, equally fast. “Then you do not get Legrand, you get me telling you that we will do whatever is most convenient for us instead.”

She hung up the phone before there was time for a response.

After that, Angel needed a few deep breaths to compose herself. She adjusted her hairband.

That had been a gamble. But it seemed like their next destination was the local museum.

Angel headed for the window again, but this time she was distracted by noises out in the hall. Specifically, the sound of a male yell, followed by Patty’s voice saying, “That’s what you get for knocking me out earlier. You cannot keep me silent in here forever.”

“We do not need forever. Only until you meet an unfortunate accident,” a man snarled back at her. It sounded like Patty’s former assailant.

“Mon dieu, do not let her bait you,” came another voice. Angel recognized this one as being the man who had claimed to leave her a threatening note at the hotel. So, it was the same two who had been talking outside.

“Then do not let her kick me, imbecile,” the wounded man snarked back.

Apparently Legrand’s goons had decided to capture Patty. Or Legrand had ordered it, now that he had enforced a twenty-four hour deadline. This was very, very bad luck.

Angel flirted with the idea of drawing her gun, then bursting out of the study, to take Patty back by force. But while she’d have the element of surprise, she was on their territory. They would both still have to get off the property. And if both of them ended up captured, there would be no one free who was even aware of Legrand’s plans.

Keeping her gun holstered, Angel held the walkie talkie device back up to her mouth. “I will return for you. Absolument,” she assured her companion.

Angel finally fled out the window before anyone could enter the study.

She edged back along the side of the house, sprinted for the bushes at the back, counted to ten to verify that no one was charging after her, and then left the grounds the same way she had originally gained access, over the fence.

It was only after Angel reached her van that she realized she didn’t know exactly where the museum was in town. Should she try to look it up on a map, or would that take too long? Should she get Mimi to help? Should she wait for Legrand’s goons to head out, and then follow them?

“I would get the authorities, but at this point Legrand has a stronger case against me than I have against him,” Angel grumbled, smacking her palm against the side of her van.

“Yes, the police would be the wrong move here,” chirped a new voice.

Angel spun, as a figure walked out into the open from behind her vehicle.

She was pretty. The woman now standing three feet away was a blonde with impossible hair. It cascaded down as far as her knees, seemingly held in place in part thanks to a blue hairband. Her outfit consisted of a dark blouse, the colour matching a pair of stockings. Though her skirt was blue, to match the hairband. As well as matching her deep, blue eyes.

Innocent blue eyes, yet with a look behind them that hinted at a depth of knowledge far beyond the twentyish years old that she appeared to be.

‘I would date her,’ was Angel’s first thought. Followed immediately by, ‘She’s that Epsilon hologram Patty talked about.’

Angel’s hand went to her gun, though she didn’t unholster it. “You. Don’t make any sudden moves.”

The woman - Beam, if Angel was recalling correctly - clasped her hands behind her back. “Sure,” she said. “Though you should know I’m currently insubstantial, so please don’t waste a bullet on me.”

Angel looked closer at the Epsilon Organization’s representative. Beam seemed solid enough, but Angel had certainly heard more far-fetched claims that later turned out to be true. She relaxed her posture, but did not let down her guard. “Why are you here?” Angel demanded.

“Because you didn’t listen when we told you to leave,” Beam sighed. “And now Patty has been captured. So, with her out of the picture, you have become our best hope for retrieving the artifact. As such, it seemed only polite to at least do an introduction.” She extended her arms back out to the sides. “I’m Beam, of the Epsilon Project.”

“Fine. Know that I am not about to be swayed to your side by a promise of sexual favours,” Angel declared.

Beam smiled adorably. “As much as I hope that your remark is due to my innate sex appeal, I fear it was my earlier talk with Patty that has your mind running on such a track. Still, on the off chance it is both, know that I do find you very attractive as well, Angel. And I would be most willing to entertain you with multiple techniques, even if you are swayed by nothing I say, and instead decide to stubbornly follow your own path forwards at every opportunity.”

Angel felt a heat rising in her cheeks, her gaze darting over Beam’s appearance one more time, despite an attempt to hold her gaze. Patty’s sex appeal felt more organic, whereas with Beam, it somehow felt more engineered. But it was there. “Beam. This is hardly the time for such a proposition.”

“No, it’s not, but you brought it up,” Beam responded petulantly. Now she was visibly pouting. She really was a curious mix of innocence and intelligence. “At any rate, Angel, what I was about to ask is, what do you feel is an appropriate priority for us at this stage?”

“Priority?”

“Epsilon could help your investigation. Or, we could back off and keep observing. We could even see about helping you bust Patty out of Legrand’s mansion. So what is your preference?”

“Hmph. Are you honestly going to do whatever I say?” Angel shot back.

“For now, we are going to try,” Beam answered, seeming sincere. “After all, this is your environment, not ours. We’re simply passing through, trying to recover this artifact.”

That, at least, was a very familiar sentiment for Angel. She had the same methods, passing through an area, trying to help people fix their own problems. Either by giving them a nudge in the appropriate way, or by removing whatever was impeding their progress.

Perhaps this Epsilon Organization wasn’t so bad after all.

“In that case,” Angel said. “I’d say…”

poll.fm/13358357

Had Angel escaped out the window, Patty wouldn’t have been captured, but it was the worst option for them getting information. They would have then needed to get help from Epsilon to learn more. Had Angel gone to the basement, she would have become trapped, shifting things over to Patty… and Epsilon. Since Angel hid, we ended up here.

Thanks as always for reading. Voting will close some time after February 23rd, as leaving it open longer than a week doesn’t seem to make a difference, and it would be nice to get another part out this month. Take care.)

ANGEL PASTA: PART SIX

Angel felt a measure of relief, followed by a pang of guilt over her reaction. “To be clear, it is not that I do not want to spend time with you,” she assured.

[caption id=“attachment_3547” align=“alignleft” width=“198”] PÂTES[/caption]

Patty nodded back, her dark ringlets bouncing by her ears. “I get it. This is all business. For now.” She smiled again, but there was a hint of sadness.

Angel felt like perhaps she should give her new friend a quick hug, or at least a pat on the back, but that felt like it would lead to even more awkward places. “So, which of us should distract?” was all she asked.

“Obviously me,” Patty stated, crossing her arms. “I’m the one who found the information, and you’re the better investigator of the two of us. Besides, I am also still recovering from being hit on the head, and should avoid moving about too much.”

“Oh, I don’t know about the investigation angle,” Angel objected. “Looking into frogs legs would never have occurred to me, after all. However, I yield on the other points, and would add that I am not the best at making up stories, preferring honesty as a policy wherever possible.”

“Compliment accepted then, and thank you for agreeing. We do work well together.” Patty winked. Angel looked to the side and made a show of adjusting her bunny ears.

“Oh,” Angel added. “Also know that I try not to involve myself too directly in a town’s affairs, preferring to stay on the sidelines, moving on once things are resolved. As such, I may simply get a sense of things, perhaps take some photos for evidence, then report back to you.”

As she spoke, Angel reflected on the previous case that had occurred on her way here. The raccoon incident. At that time, she had even had Pierre take the photos, rather than doing it herself. Of course, then it had made sense for both of them to prowl around. Here, less so.

“Ah, unless the Captain is in trouble inside, surely?” Patty protested.

Angel’s gaze was drawn back to Patty. “Oui, there are exceptions, to be sure,” she agreed.

Patty was now nibbling on her lower lip, which was far too cute. Angel tapped her toe on the ground, becoming annoyed with how flustered she was getting. Had it perhaps been too long since she had kissed another woman? She forced herself not to reflect on the matter.

“Euh, so when did you want to head out?” Angel wondered.

It was Patty’s turn to look away, as she pushed herself back to her feet with the help of the table. “Let us strike while the iron is hot. He may not even be expecting me now, assuming I am still passed out, so I can catch him off guard. Make him say something he shouldn’t.”

Angel reflexively reached out to offer a hand before pulling back. “You are certain? Your head is all right? Is there more I can do to make you feel better before we depart?”

Patty chuckled. “Oh, there’s a number of things you could do to make me feel better, Angel. Alas, they would only delay our investigation.”

Angel frowned. “A delay is warranted if your head is causing problems.”

Patty stared directly at her. “Am I really so bad at innuendo? It is not my head that requires your attention.”

“Oh. Of course.” Angel was not certain if she had avoided blushing before, but she was certain she was failing at it now. If only they didn’t have the jellyfish issue to prioritize, this could have been a pleasant holiday.

Then again, if not for the jellyfish, Angel likely wouldn’t have come to this town at all. What a predicament.

“Bon, euh, I shall give you a drive in my van, and we can discuss options on the way,” Angel said, to break the ensuing silence.

Patty nodded. “Let me grab a couple of my communications devices first.”

Their talk remained professional for the duration of the trip to Legrand’s address. Though Angel had taken note of the way Patty had first looked over the interior of her van. Had her eyes lingered on the sleeping bag?

The property of Julien Legrand was a far cry from Patty’s abandoned house down by the shore. His grounds having space enough for two houses, the one building it did present was set back from the roadway, standing two stories high with visible balconies. The area itself looked to be meticulously maintained, with trimmed hedges, a freshly mowed lawn, and no sign of peeling paint anywhere.

To even approach the residence, you needed to call ahead using a speaker at the gate.

“Legrand might not even let me in,” Patty groaned, looking at the setup from half a block away. “Some distraction I’d be then.”

“Tell him if you don’t get your say, in person, your next stop is the press,” Angel suggested. “People with something to hide usually hate that angle. Even more so than the police.”

Patty nodded. “Good idea. So, how much time do you need to find a way in the back?”

“Give me five minutes,” Angel said. “I’ll let you know if we need to change the plan.” She looked down at the walkie-talkie device in her palm, then lifted it to her mouth, pressing her finger against the button. “You can hear this?”

“Loud and clear,” Patty said, adjusting the clip-on earring she was wearing. Apparently, it could work as a receiver. Angel knew there was a drive to miniaturize technology, but this was incredible.

Alas, there was no way for Patty to also reach her, unless they used another set. And Patty carrying a transmitter had felt like it was asking for trouble from Julien.

“Very well,” Angel concluded, putting the transmitter in the pocket of her lab coat. She double checked that her handgun had the safety on, re-holstered it, and reached up to curl her rabbit ears slightly down.

One could argue that Angel was less likely to be seen if she took the hairband off entirely. But one could also argue that hearing a rustling in the bushes, and then seeing a pair of rabbit ears, would make a person less likely to investigate the sound. Besides, Angel was so used to their presence by now that their removal would largely put her more on edge.

She went around to the back of the Legrand property. It happened to run up against a large field, containing a football pitch. The open space would be a problem if anyone was watching out from the upper balconies, but Angel saw no one, and seemingly no one was out in the adjoining yards either.

Angel swiftly vaulted over the five foot tall fence, landing in the shrubs behind.

She counted to ten, risked sending Patty the message “all good”, and at that point - pulling some leaves out of her long hair - crept closer to the main building. The day had become quite overcast by now, which was working in her favour, though there was also a shed and some small trees which helped to provide additional cover.

Angel had just pressed herself up against the steps leading up onto the rear porch when she heard the back door open.

“Mon dieu. I know why you got chewed out,” one man was saying as he emerged. “What with actually knocking that poor woman out. But why ME?”

“Because you didn’t actually deliver your note in person?” came the dry response of a second male individual walking out behind him.

The two men stopped their advance before reaching the edge of the porch area, but Angel was rather concerned that, were they to keep moving and then look down, she was sure to be seen.

The first man snorted. “Funny. I ended up with the gun bunny! What, should I have handed over the note from my boat to hers? She might have shot me in the foot to find out who I was working for. Non, I strategically withdrew, and left her note back in her hotel room. It is FINE.”

“Legrand didn’t think so.”

“Uggh, obviously,” came the response, which Angel now knew had to be from the man who had followed her out in the boat earlier that day. “Sacre bleu, why is our boss so worried about a couple of women poking around? Worst case, we buy them off with pretty dresses or perfume or the like.”

“I do not believe he is worried,” his companion soothed. “He merely wants everything to go perfectly with this operation, so that–”

The second man didn’t get a chance to complete his thought. The back door banged open again.

“That woman you assaulted is now at my GATE,” snarled a man, who had to be Julien Legrand. “Were you seen? Were you FOLLOWED?”

“Impossible,” came the incredulous response. “I left her out cold on the bathroom floor. And I did not see either her friend Mimi, or that new investigator in the area, as I departed.”

“For the sake of your job, I hope you’re right,” Julien said. The door slammed shut with added force.

There was a moment of silence.

“I think I had better listen in to whatever this woman is about to say,” Patty’s assailant decided.

Angel then heard him head back to the house, the door opening and closing once more, and from the double set of footsteps, she concluded that the first man had decided to accompany his companion. She again counted up to ten in the ensuing silence before peeking over the side of the porch. It was empty.

“Well done, Patty,” Angel murmured. “Stay safe.”

In case that first man had decided to wait right inside the door, Angel continued to creep around the perimeter of the house until she saw a half-open window. She quickly climbed inside. It seemed to be a bathroom.

She listened at the door, and hearing nothing, crept out into the hall.

Honestly, she really didn’t enjoy resorting to trespassing this way. But the jellyfish, Pâtes, and possibly Mimi’s father, were all depending on her doing this. Or, that’s what she kept telling herself, at any rate.

She edged along the hallway, in the opposite direction to the back door,

There seemed to be a flight of stairs going down, and basements were always a good place to hide secrets. But they were also dark, potentially dangerous, and a good place to become trapped. Perhaps it would bear investigation later.

A couple of steps away was another door, partly ajar. Angel peeked inside, and then entered. Mostly to get out of the hall, but the desk and bookshelves implied that this was a study of some sorts, which could give her a better sense of Legrand himself.

What stood out immediately was the cork board beside that door, with a number of news articles tacked up, next to names and dates. Angel’s eyes were drawn to one event in specific, an article speaking of Felix’s concert in Paris. The one where she and her friends had thwarted the testing of a mind control device by the Octopus organization.

Was Julien Legrand an operative? Had Angel unknowingly crossed paths with him before?

“Non,” Angel realized, muttering the word aloud as she traced her finger from one article over to another. Based on the scribblings that accompanied them, she concluded that Legrand was not an operative. He had simply heard of the organization, and then gathered this data… to fight against them?

Again, it seemed like no. The tone of his writing implied he was hoping to one day become an operative. Which he somehow felt could be done by engineering his own scheme, to get the organization’s attention.

Was this a scheme involving jellyfish? Angel decided not to extrapolate.

“The Octopus is more likely to kill you for having this information than recruit you,” Angel muttered. She stepped back to take a quick photograph, then hurried over to the main desk.

There was a small key sitting on the corner, above an open desk drawer. The drawer was empty, but on the desk itself were a number of stacked papers. Angel concluded she had lucked out again, Legrand must have been looking them over when Patty arrived.

However, Angel only had time to read the title of the top document, ‘Distraction At Sea’, under which had been scribbled the word ‘ESCALATE NOW!’, before the telephone sitting on the far end of the desk began to ring.

“Zut alors,” Angel cursed, her heart pounding. Even if Legrand was kept busy, one of his assistants was sure to come and answer that call. She had only seconds to decide what to do.

poll.fm/13273119

We got what we got. If you’re impatient for Epsilon characters (or have been aiming to avoid them) know paths are veering that way now, feel free to drop a comment as to any preferences. Thanks as always for reading. Voting will close some time after February 6th, which is when my report cards are due, meaning I can write again.)

ANGEL PASTA: PART FIVE

Mimi had given Angel very good instructions with respect to locating the place, which was where Patty now kept her equipment. The blonde woman with her hair in the ringlets had even offered to come along, however they had no evidence that Patty was in trouble, versus having had become distracted or otherwise occupied. And Mimi needed to return to work at 1500 hours.

Angel had said she could investigate on her own.

As she approached the location, it occurred to Angel that she was insisting on working by herself a lot since her arrival in town. Her general paranoia at work? Might it become an impediment to the investigation?

Angel shook her head, her bunny ears waving lazily back and forth at the motion. No. There had been no need to disrupt Mimi’s routine owing to one failed follow-up. Going alone was practical, nothing more than that.

Angel elected to approach the area with caution.

She parked a couple blocks away, circling around to the shore on foot. There was a large rock near where the earth met the beach, and she crouched and hid there to watch the house for a good five minutes.

It’s not that she thought Patty was necessarily up to anything, but the other woman WAS working with that unknown Epsilon group. Perhaps they were inside watching, and wouldn’t take kindly to visitors, or had set up some sort of perimeter. But Angel saw nothing.

The house itself had suffered some damage from a storm some years back, Mimi had explained. This had led the owner to move away, while also making it difficult to sell the property. So Patty had decided to use it to house some equipment, it’s proximity to the jellyfish situation seen as being potentially helpful.

Angel saw now that the property damage was mostly cosmetic, meaning no structural concerns, though some shingles were missing from the roof. Angel wondered if rain damage was an issue on the inside.

Alas, there wasn’t much cover once you walked past the broken fence which cut across the path leading up to the building. Fortunately, it had been clouding over, and thus Angel felt the shadows on the ground would be of use in obscuring her.

She dashed through the area to the rear of the building like a jackrabbit, her lab coat billowing out behind her.

The back door was unlocked. This made sense, as the abandoned house wouldn’t be well maintained, plus if Patty was there, she would have no reason to lock herself inside. Still, it made Angel uneasy.

She briefly reached for her gun, but then thought better of it and simply pushed the door open.

[caption id=“attachment_3536” align=“alignright” width=“204”] ANGEL RUSÉE[/caption]

Immediately obvious were some binoculars near the large rear window, along with what seemed to be a sketchbook and a number of pencils. After taking a quick glance around the area, and likewise hearing nothing, she went to have a closer look.

Flipping through the sketchbook revealed to Angel that Patty was a decent artist. While perhaps scanning for jellyfish, she’d been sketching the scene outside, or birds, or Mimi. Actually, there were quite a few sketches of Mimi. In various poses.

Angel closed the book, feeling like she was violating Patty’s privacy.

“Hello?” Angel called out, listening for any sort of reaction to her voice. The house remained silent.

Perhaps Patty had simply left to follow up on a lead. Or perhaps she’d been stalked, the way Angel had been that morning on the boat? And then kidnapped?

“Stop being so paranoid,” Angel muttered to herself, hoping the sound of her own voice would calm her.

After all, this was absolutely, positively, not Angel’s fault for wanting to go off and investigate on her own. No way. Patty’s status might have been the same even without her presence. However, it was by being here now, that she could make a difference.

Taking a deep breath, Angel began a proper investigation.

In addition to the sketch book, the room at the back had a small table with a few screws and bolts and some electronic equipment sitting out. Angel had no idea what it was meant to do, so she continued searching the ground floor.

Down a short hallway was the kitchen. There was a small bar fridge which contained some washed fruit and yogurt. Utensils were washed and cleaned in the drying rack, with the counter wiped clean of dust. Patty had evidently been doing her analyses here for a few days, enough to warrant bringing snacks.

There was also a telephone book out on the counter, with a paper next to it.

Angel took a closer look at the paper, which seemed to be an accounting ledger. She wondered how Patty had obtained it. Closer inspection revealed that it wasn’t an original, but a copy, likely Xeroxed. One entry had been circled.

Someone named Julien Legrand had bought a lot of “cuisses de grenouilles”… frog’s legs. A curious thing for Patty to be researching. And of course, while Angel knew not everyone was interested in a vegetarian lifestyle the way she was, she rather hoped that Patty didn’t have a fondness for them.

She looked over to the telephone book. It was open to the page of “Le”. Angel quickly ran her finger down the page to “Legrand”. There was a faint pencil mark there, implying Patty had done the same thing.

Fortunately, Julien was the only Legrand in town; Angel made a mental note of the address. If things didn’t pan out here, that was her next stop.

She progressed out of the kitchen to the living room area in the front. It was mostly devoid of furniture, having only a large couch that the former owner had presumably not bothered to take, and an empty cabinet that might have held plates at one time.

Flattening herself against the wall, she went and peered out of the front window from behind the threadbare curtains. There didn’t seem to be anyone out there observing. But there was another house a short way down the street which could be used as a vantage point.

Angel looked back at the room. There was something here. Something off. It took a moment to register, but it was in the dust.

The entire house had a very fine layer of dust on the floor. Angel had seen a number of scuff marks in it already, where Patty had been moving back and forth. Perhaps wearing different shoes, or perhaps Mimi had also been by on some occasion, as there was more than one set of prints.

But in this room, there was a new set. And drag marks. And the way the dust was disturbed, it was as if someone had been subdued… and then dragged out to the hallway. Angel now unholstered her gun and quietly followed after the drag marks.

They did not go out the front door, as she had anticipated, instead they progressed back down the hall, to a doorway Angel had not yet explored.

She listened at the door, then counted to three and thrust it open, preparing to raise her weapon.

It was a bathroom. Patty was passed out on the floor.

“Mon dieu, Pâtes,” Angel gasped.

She quickly re-holstered her gun and bent down gave Patty a quick once over, to verify that there was no visible injury. It seemed that there would be no danger in moving her. Patty let out a soft moan as Angel’s fingers rested on her forehead, to check for a fever.

The rest of the house remained quiet. Whomever had done this had left… or was perhaps hiding on a different floor of the house. Though she hadn’t noticed the new footprints in the dust going up the stairs.

“Patty?” Angel ventured, pushing the bathroom door closed again. “Are you okay? How do you feel?”

Patty simply moaned again.

Angel reached into the pocket of her lab coat, grateful now that she had worn it, with its pockets. She pulled out the smelling salts that she kept on hand.

It’s not that she expected to be knocked out ALL the time when doing her investigations, but it never hurt to be prepared.

“Here, this should help,” Angel said waving them under Patty’s nose. “Take it nice and easy now.”

“Uhhh… wha? Angel… ma sirène…?” Patty murmured. Her eyes opened, and she stared dreamily up at Angel’s face.

Angel couldn’t help but see that expression as absolutely adorable.

“Mmmm, it is you,” Patty murmured. “You came for me…”

Angel cleared her throat. “Oui, euh… t-take it easy,” she repeated, at a temporary loss for words. She hoped she wasn’t blushing in the way that Patty was starting to.

“Oh! Pardon,” Patty apologized, as she became more aware of the situation. She began to sit up, lifting her hand towards her forehead, groaning. And becoming aware that she was holding a paper. Patty peered at it in confusion.

“Allow me,” Angel said. She swiftly reached back into her lab coat to don a surgical glove before taking the page, even as she suspected that she wouldn’t get any fingerprints off of it. “Cut out magazine letters,” she realized. An obvious attempt to avoid handwriting detection. “It says, ‘Mind Your Own Business’.”

“Oh. So I’ve succeeded in annoying someone,” Patty realized. She again struggled to sit up, succeeding now with some help from Angel, before leaning her body back against the sink. “I suppose this means I’m on the right track.”

“Probably,” Angel agreed. “You had best be careful, assuming you wish to continue the case.”

Patty stared at her. “Would this be enough to make you stop investigating?”

“Euh. Non,” Angel admitted.

“Bien. Then me neither,” Patty declared.

Angel couldn’t fault her new friend’s determination. “Did you see who attacked you?”

Patty shook her head, then winced and pressed her hand back to her forehead. “Aie, remind me not to do that again. But non, I was simply walking through the house when I heard a noise behind me. Next thing I know, you are here waking me up.”

“Hmm. It’s nearly 1500 hours,” Angel offered, glancing at her watch. “Do you know how long you were out?”

“Zut, at least a couple hours,” Patty sighed. “I was just going to head to Mimi’s to share my latest clue with the both of you.”

Angel nodded. “About Julien Legrand?” she asked.

Patty stared at her, then laughed, then winced again. “Bon, I am now satisfied that my sexual inclinations are not an open book to everyone. You are simply an amazing investigator, Angel.”

“I saw the ledger and the phone book in the kitchen,” Angel admitted. “Though I admit I have no context for how this man connects to the case.”

“Mmm. The connection is how Mimi’s father has a fondness for frog’s legs,” Patty explained. “After our talk this morning, it occurred to me that they might be a way to bribe him, or keep him quiet. And that, outside of Mimi’s restaurant, there aren’t many places in the area to get them.”

Angel felt perversely pleased to learn that Patty wasn’t interested in frog’s legs herself.

“So,” Patty continued, “I asked Beam - who incidentally came to check on me after my failure to get you to leave the area - whether she could get me some information on whom around here might have bought such an item in bulk. She returned an hour later with that ledger you saw.”

Angel frowned. “Then Beam only provided the ledger, not more information about Legrand himself?”

“Correct. I found the name on it, not them. The Epsilon Project really is trying not to interfere,” Patty added. “Merely accelerate my investigation so that they can obtain the artifact that’s not supposed to be here.”

Angel conceded the point. “Bon, so Legrand was to be your next stop after our meeting… until you were attacked.”

Patty nodded, this time without wincing. “Correct again. In retrospect, it’s possible someone had been watching me since this morning. Waiting for an opportunity to attack. I really haven’t been taking many precautions.”

“Someone also seemed to be following me in a boat this morning,” Angel shared. “I suppose at least in splitting up, we split up their forces.”

“I suppose.” Patty bit down on her lower lip. “Are you certain you do not wish to help me out more directly though? You are so terribly good at all this, turning up out of the blue to rescue me.”

Angel averted her gaze, pretending it was a necessary move to adjust her bunny ears. This was not the time to be swayed by a pretty face. Even if it could be so, so pretty. “We shall see what transpires,” she stated. “Though, for now, I do believe it IS best for us to pursue this latest lead together.”

She looked back to see Patty’s beaming face, though the other woman almost immediately attempted to adopt a more neutral expression. “Of course. Yes. I thank you for assisting me even temporarily, Angel. Help me up?”

With a bit of assistance, Patty got back onto her feet, and Angel helped her out to the kitchen and into a chair. All the while listening for signs that someone might still be hiding in the house, but she heard nothing.

“So,” Angel said. “Did you have thoughts on how to handle this Julien Legrand?”

“Well, I’m not sure we should approach him directly,” Patty admitted. “As the captain may be in trouble, and could be used as a hostage. Which means gaining access to his house another way.”

“One of us could approach directly, to distract, as the other looks for clues,” Angel offered. “After all, they likely believe we are still operating separately.”

“There is that,” Patty said. “And I do have a device that would let us remain in communication. But I’m not certain I like the idea of us splitting up again.”

“Alors. We could both go off the wall, posing as two health inspectors. Following up on a bad batch of frog’s legs,” Angel suggested with a smile. Patty laughed at that.

(Alors, what is the plan?)

poll.fm/13213352

Had Patty been in trouble, she would have been taken hostage by the shady villains, a group possibly led by the Captain himself. Had Patty been fine, Mimi would have remembered something, sending Angel to find the Captain, where she would have encountered Patty, who had been consumed with following her own lead.

Thanks again for reading. Voting will close some time after Jan 22nd, I hope to have another part out this month.)

ANGEL PASTA: PART FOUR

“I thank you for all you have told me,” Angel said. “Know that I am still not leaving, but for now, I will not impede whatever actions you and this Epsilon group are taking either.”

Patty fidgeted. “Oh. You are not interested in perhaps going all in, and helping us? I’m sure I can convince Beam of your good intentions.”

Angel smiled. “Interested, perhaps. But no. First, I must find out more on my own.”

After all, Epsilon could be playing the long game in terms of influencing her, and she wasn’t about to walk into that trap. They were going to have to make more of an effort to get at her.

Patty sighed. “Ah, bien. I suppose that will have to do. It was nice talking with you, at least.”

“Agreed. And if I may, I would like to request two things,” Angel added, leaning forwards and resting her arms on her knees. When Patty nodded, she continued. “I would like a way to contact you. It seems only fair, as you know where I am staying tonight.”

Patty brightened visibly. “For sure. I am staying with my friend Mimi,” Patty said. She gave the address.

Angel nodded. “Thank you. As to the second thing, I would appreciate an introduction to this Mimi LaFleche. She likely has information about the area, via her father or otherwise, which would be helpful for my own investigation. And unlike so many others in town, she’s motivated to talk.”

Patty thought longer about that one, but then nodded. “I am not certain what she might be able to tell you that I cannot, but perhaps that is the point. Very well. She has a break at work today from 1300 to 1500 hours, you could come by the house this afternoon.”

“Excellent.”

Angel rose from her chair at that, and Patty followed suit, sensing that their discussion was over.

“Do be careful,” Patty added, even as Angel reached out a hand. “I would hate to see any harm come to you.” Patty took her palm and they shook.

“Always,” Angel assured. “You take care as well.”

With that, the two ladies parted ways, Patty giving one last look over her shoulder before Angel closed the hotel room door.

She was being followed.

Angel had decided to take the rest of the morning to have a quick look around the area of the jellyfish swarm. She had not done so yet in part because the boat rental prices were steep, and in part because she had not thought it necessary. But if some mystery artifact was involved, perhaps an inspection was warranted.

There was a chance she would spot something out of the ordinary.

She had opted for a small, slower motorboat for ease of navigation. While she might have enough strength to row for a short time, she did not want to cramp up and become adrift.

There were a few other boats out on the water as she left, fishing boats still attempting to bring in some wares, one half full tourist boat, and some passenger boats either out for the day or heading up the coast. But the blue boat with the overhead canopy that left its occupant(s?) in darkness was definitely keeping an eye on her.

It helped that she had read the map incorrectly and had started out by going the wrong way. The blue boat had followed her when she made the turn back toward the proper jellyfish location. It was now idling some distance away.

Angel wondered what they were hoping to accomplish.

Was this a member of the Octopus organization? Was it someone from the Epsilon organization instead? Or perhaps they were small time thugs noticing an unaccompanied woman? The occupant could, Angel reflected, even be Patty herself, though that seemed unlikely.

[caption id=“attachment_3575” align=“alignright” width=“300”] Jellyfish. Are they the antagonist?[/caption]

Busy speculating, she stared at the jellyfish swarm without really seeing them. Though she did note that the bioluminescence, which one report had said was occurring at strange intervals, here simply seemed random.

She supposed she might have caused a disturbance to the water upon her approach, altering their behaviour, though she had been trying to keep her distance. At any rate, she was seeing nothing unusual.

Diving might be a future option to consider. As long as she was protected from jellyfish stings, and no one attempted to make off with her boat while she was down there. (Is that why the other craft was watching her? Waiting for her to dive?) However, she would want to call her friend Jean-Michel Lestrange for some tips before such an attempt, as he was a proper dive expert.

Angel turned the boat engine back on, and vectored in the direction of the docks.

However, once she seemed committed to that heading, she abruptly turned her boat to aim directly for the mysterious blue one.

That boat spun in place, before fully opening up its engine and heading away. Effectively confirming it wasn’t Patty, who wouldn’t be so rude. Angel also suspected random thugs might have panicked at her approach, or otherwise allowed her to get closer, but there was no way to be sure. So, an Organization?

Angel attempted to catch up, but the other boat had a higher top speed, and she lost it as it executed a curve, disappearing behind a much larger ship. She did get that the name on the bow had been something like ALPHA or ALEPH, though hadn’t approached close enough to be sure.

Something else to ask about around the docks, she supposed.

Angel reached Mimi’s house promptly at 1pm. The house wasn’t a large affair, nestled in between two similar looking structures, but it had two floors with at least a few rooms on each. Plus the grounds were large enough for a small garden, which was fenced in next to a toolshed.

She opened the gate and walked up, both ringing the doorbell and then knocking, but no one seemed to be home.

It was as Angel was heading back down the front path that a blonde with her hair in ringlets made the turn at the sidewalk to approach. She gave Angel a wave. “Hello,” she chirped. “Nice ears. You selling lucky rabbit feet or something?”

“No,” Angel said dryly. “I was looking for Mimi Lafleche.”

“Ahhh. Look, if this is about a debt, I haven’t seen her, but will pass on the message.”

“It is not about that, it is about her father.”

“Mmmm.” The blonde gave that one some additional thought. “Okay, I’m Mimi. Come in.”

As Mimi walked past her, pulling a key out of her handbag, Angel gave her a similar once over to what she had done with Patty that morning.

A white long sleeved blouse with a dark skirt, which had on it a flour stain that stopped abruptly, implying the presence of an apron there earlier in the day. Moderate build, not too curvy, and it seemed Mimi had strong arms. Which could be needed to carry trays of food. She had sensible shoes, no jewellery to speak of, a hint of makeup, and of course those ringlets.

Angel was very ambivalent about ringlets in hair, though she now wondered whether Patty had the two curls on either side of her face as some effort at pale imitation.

“I gather you’re the woman Patty was going to see this morning,” Mimi remarked as she unlocked her door. “She mentioned someone with bunny ears was poking about, looking into the jellyfish.”

“Oui,” Angel confirmed. She frowned. “Yet there was no mention of my dropping by at this hour?”

“Oh, haven’t seen her since breakfast,” Mimi said. “She’s probably out buying parts for one of her electronic gizmos. I’m hoping she can make something that will deal with our sea life problem, you see.” She walked into the house as she continued to speak. “Patty really is good with electrical things.”

Angel’s frown deepened as she realized she hadn’t really asked Patty about any of her hobbies or other specialities that might have made her a recruit for the Epsilon Project, aside from her being a lesbian. Rather short sighted of her. Even rude.

And yet, personal details of the locals were not the reason for her visit to this town. Right? It wouldn’t do to get too familiar, Angel rationalized.

She followed Mimi inside and closed the door behind her. The hallway featured an archway on one side into a living room area, while a set of stairs ascended on the other side. Mimi took neither path, striding down the hallway into what turned out to be the kitchen.

“You’ll pardon me,” Mimi said as she pulled open the fridge. “My plan is a drink and a quick siesta before returning to work. I will, of course, attempt to clear up any issues with my father in the process.”

“Bien,” Angel said. “Then I will be brief. First, do you know of anyone who might want to frame your father for what is going on now?”

“Hmm, aside from me?” Mimi said with a half smile. She produced a bottle of white wine and went to get a glass.

Angel stared. “You willingly implicate yourself?”

Mimi shrugged. “Might as well be up front about it. Dad doesn’t approve of my dating the owner of the restaurant where I work, you see. It’s more about the power imbalance than Louis himself, but still. I think that’s why he visits town, to check up on us.”

“Ah. And you would rather he did not visit.”

“More like I would rather he not poke into my private affairs when he does so,” Mimi clarified, as she placed a wine glass on the kitchen counter and reached for the bottle. “I enjoy talking with him, but would prefer a topic like jellyfish, or frankly anything other than my personal life decisions.”

“But then, if you want him distracted, why ask your friend Patty to clear up the situation?”

“I asked her to look into it,” Mimi corrected. “Because I thought he might be implicated. That’s not the same as clearing it up. Also, you asked who would frame my Dad, all I’m saying is me or Louis might have a motive to keep him away.” She had a sip of the wine.

There was definitely more to Mimi than met the eye, Angel decided.

“Very well,” Angel said. “Anyone else?”

Mimi seemed to consider it. “That head of tourism, Jules, is definitely not a fan after this. And the dock master Vesso sometimes loses his patience with Dad over the attitude he has. There’s perhaps a couple of the other boat captains who have had a run in with him. And the local priest dislikes his tendency to swear. There’s no one else of consequence that I know.”

Angel nodded. “Now then, might any of them have tried to get him out of the way before the jellyfish arrived? Or do you know for a fact that he is, indeed, simply docked somewhere else up the coast?”

Mimi stared, then pointed at Angel. “I like you. We never considered a kidnapping to prevent him from self-advocating.” She took another sip of wine. “And I guess there is no way to know for sure. He did leave with his boat a few days before the swarm arrived, but perhaps someone got ahold of him at sea. I haven’t heard from him either way.”

The revelation seemed to trouble Mimi, Angel decided, after attempting another of her empathy readings. It seemed like the other woman did care for her father, even if she wanted him to pry less into her love life.

“Very well. Are there any particularly good places where one could hide out in town?” Angel continued.

Mimi stared. “You think he is being held captive here in town?”

“I think there are many possibilities,” Angel said. Such as how the captain could be a prisoner, willing or otherwise. Alternatively, the entire jellyfish affair could be a ruse to have people looking at the sea and talking about the captain, instead of noticing something else happening on land. She did not elaborate for Mimi.

Mimi set her glass back down. “There are some hiding places. Patty is using one right now for her equipment. Do you think she could be in danger there?”

It was Angel’s turn to feel troubled. “Danger? What makes you say that?”

“You indicated that she was going to tell me of your visit here. She did not. It could be because she became distracted, but… could something sinister have occurred?”

Mimi had a point. For that matter, by insisting on staying in town, had Angel unwittingly brought the wrath of the Epsilon Project down on Patty? Was Patty in trouble, and was it partly her fault?

Angel placed her hands on her hips. “Mimi, could I trouble you to tell me where Patty’s equipment hiding place is located?”

poll.fm/13042620

The new poll will be open until mid-December January 6, didn’t even get a vote until Dec 19. Related, should Mimi come along when Angel leaves? Consider a comment if you have an opinion. I hope to have another part out before the end of the year. The annual ChristMaths special will come first, on my other site. Thank you for reading!

ANGEL PASTA: PART THREE

“Bon,” Patty said at last. “There is a mysterious organization attempting to recover an artifact.”

Angel lifted an eyebrow. “Oh? Are they using the jellyfish to do it?” she mused, when Patty didn’t volunteer anything else.

“Non, I do not think so,” Patty said after a moment. “I think the jellyfish came about because of the artifact.”

“But you’re not sure? Sounds like all the more reason to investigate,” Angel pointed out.

Patty sighed. “I am. And will continue my efforts. But this organization, who call themselves Epsilon, they do not want you involved as well.”

Angel hmmmed. That certainly felt suspicious. “Why not?”

“I do not know. But when I asked Beam, she said I should get rid of you.”

Angel lifted her other eyebrow. “Oh. And thus you want me to leave town so that you do not have to kill me instead?”

Patty visibly flinched, her face paling. “Hein? Ah, non, non! Beam meant for me to send you away, I did not mean to imply we wished to… dispose of you.” She shuddered. “I do not think I could even attack someone else, let alone kill them.”

[caption id=“attachment_3547” align=“alignleft” width=“198”] PÂTES[/caption]

“I see.” Angel brought her hand back to the table, tapping her fingers lightly as she tried to get an emotional read on Patty. It was a skill she had been developing over the years.

Patty’s panic over having to assault someone appeared genuine. Thus she was unlikely to be a secret agent or someone with military training. Angel was secretly pleased by that, even as she wondered how Patty would feel upon learning Angel herself had shot at and injured people, albeit non-lethally.

Yet there was something more about this situation… romantic feelings? Towards her? Patty definitely seemed to be into other women, but that did not negate the possibility of a romantic attachment to a man. Perhaps she was even connected to Jules? Angel needed more data.

“You have not been involved with this Epsilon organization long,” Angel probed, after a moment.

“I have not,” Patty admitted.

“Yet you sought them out?”

“Non, she– er, they found me.”

She? Of course. There it was. “Ahh. This Beam, she is pretty, yes?”

Patty’s cheeks coloured. “Yes. And it’s true that I do not meet many other queer women. But I don’t see how that is relevant to– ahh, zut alors, you are playing me like a cheap violin!” Patty dropped her croissant on her plate and turned away, staring towards the ground.

Angel quickly reached her arm across the table, her palm out. “Non. Not cheap. Never cheap. And for the record, you are very attractive, Patty. My flirting is genuine, and I would like be able to concentrate on it. If only I weren’t also concerned with this situation in town, and how it relates to your mysterious organization.”

Patty glanced back up at her, then again to the ground, the fusilli-style ringlets of her hair bouncing merrily on either side of her face. Angel remained still, her hand open in a silent invitation.

It took at least a minute, but Patty finally sighed. “Angel, I have already said too much.”

“And yet, I am not leaving. So. In for a penny, in for a pound? If it makes you feel better, I am an independent contractor,” Angel offered.

Patty again looked sidelong at her, then tentatively smiled, and reached out towards Angel’s outstretched palm. “I am a fool, falling for a pretty face again, but you saying that does make me feel better,” she admitted. “Given how Beam’s main concern was the attentions of some octopus group.”

Angel felt her heart rate increase at that mention, though she endeavoured not to let her alarm show on her face. She had dealt with operatives of the Octopus before, and was less than thrilled at the prospect that they might become involved here as well. Taking in a slow breath, as the other woman’s fingers slid in against her own, she reassuringly squeezed Patty’s hand.

“Of course,” Patty continued, “if you were part of some evil organization, I’m sure you would lie about it. Or perhaps not know that the organization itself was evil. So I’m sure I am being very naive by simply trusting y–”

“Pâtes,” Angel cut in, deliberately using Patty’s given name. “I believe our discussion has reached a point where it should no longer continue out in public.”

Patty’s red lips clamped shut.

Angel squeezed at Patty’s hand. “There is no need for concern. That said, where would you feel more comfortable talking? There is my hotel room, or my van, which like is my mobile home.” She didn’t even suggest the possibility of not talking about it.

And Patty certainly seemed to want to keep talking. “Your hotel,” she said, with barely any hesitation. “In your van, you could tie me up and drive me off to who knows where.”

“Fair enough,” Angel agreed. “Though for the record, I only tie people up if they are being very naughty.” She checked herself, as a particular scenario occurred. “Or perhaps by request.”

Patty stared at her. “You are absolutely une sirène,” she concluded. Alluding to the legendary seductive mermaids of Greek mythology, who lured in all ships that passed by.

Angel simply smiled, accepting the compliment. They two women rapidly finished their breakfast and left the cafe.

Angel’s hotel room was a simple affair, a single bed with a desk and nightstand. On the desk was a lamp and a telephone to reach the front desk, while near the bed was an unused ashtray, and a small clock radio.

Upon their arrival, Angel made a point of re-locking the door, unholstering her gun, and double checking that the safety was on before placing it on the desk. She then took off her lab coat and went to turn on the radio, allowing light classical music to play. That would serve to confound any listening devices that might have been placed in the room.

There was no reason to think she was being bugged, but in her experience, a little paranoia never hurt. She kept the room curtains closed.

Patty spent a short while simply staring at the gun before glancing around the room, perhaps trying to get a sense of Angel’s personality. But Angel had kept most of her belongings in her van.

Then Patty’s cheeks coloured, so Angel followed her gaze. Belatedly, she spotted that she had merely kicked her clothes of the previous day into a corner of the room, rather than putting them back into her suitcase.

She was reminded of the time her suitcase had burst open in a Greek airport, scattering all of her clothing across the floor for anyone to see. And she hadn’t even been there at that time.

Fortunately, Angel was either able to hide her own embarrassment, or Patty didn’t care to acknowledge it. The dark haired woman ended up taking a seat on the edge of the bed, with her back to the clothing pile.

Angel sat down at the desk instead, wanting to give Patty space. She belatedly moved her gun further away, so that it wasn’t immediately within reach.

Patty adjusted the large black bow in her hair. “So. Where were we?”

“It may be better if you start back at the beginning,” Angel suggested. “This Beam woman approached you about her organization, did she?”

Patty nodded. “Yes. Okay. See, I am a close friend of Mimi LaFleche. She’s the daughter of that sea captain you’ve been asking about around town.”

Angel nodded back. “Right. The one who had threatened the job of Jules, the town’s head of tourism.”

“Correct. Don’t think anything of that, by the way. He gets in these moods, threatens people, swears a bunch, but he doesn’t generally follow through. He’s a nice guy deep down. It’s why he docks in our port every so often, to visit his daughter.”

“I see. They did not grow up around here?”

“Non, we all lived up the coast. Mimi got a job in the city here, that’s why she moved. Well, that and the hunk of a guy who runs the seaside restaurant, to use her words. They’re now dating.”

Angel drummed her fingers once across the desk as she regarded Patty. There was some tension there, as the other woman spoke. “So. You love Mimi, but she is very heterosexual.”

Patty flinched anew. “Sacre bleu, how do you DO that?” she said, aghast. “Is it that I have become so sexually frustrated that my love life is an open book to every other queer woman in my vicinity?”

Angel quickly held up both hands, palms open. “Non, non. My apologies. I merely recognized the pain, and felt it could be connected to why this Beam approached you, as opposed to Mimi herself.”

Patty stared at her, then slumped. “Maybe. See, Mimi asked me to look into the jellyfish situation, as she’s concerned about her Dad being implicated. I agreed, of course - I’d do anything for Mimi - and the swarm is kind of keeping me from lounging on the beach while on vacation anyway. I figured my investigation is why Beam found me. But perhaps I was easier to seduce.”

“It was merely a hypothesis,” Angel assured her.

“No, no, it makes sense,” Patty said. “Because Beam said her reward for my helping out Epsilon would be… ahh… that is, Beam said I was very beautiful and worthy of love and so when this was over we might, euh…”

“Speak in tongues?” Angel offered at the hesitation.

“Mmm! Exactly,” Patty said, visibly relieved by the euphemism. “She even claimed to be programmed specifically for that purpose.”

“Understood,” Angel assured. She frowned. “Wait, no. Programmed? What does that even mean?”

“See, that’s the other thing,” Patty said. “Beam isn’t human. She says she’s a hologram. And she proved it. That’s how I know all of this isn’t someone pranking me.”

“Back up. What is a hologram?”

“Well, while she LOOKS like an attractive twenty-something blonde with hair down to her knees, wearing a blue hairband with blue earrings, a blue skirt and cute blue shoes, complimented with a dark blouse and dark stockings wrapped around a set of killer legs… you can’t touch her. A hologram is somehow a technological ghost. My hand passed right though her, and she phased right through solid objects.”

Angel found she could only stare.

“Oh, but she assured me her state could become solid, temporarily,” Patty added. “For my reward.”

“Bon, let’s… set rewards aside for a moment,” Angel said, gesturing sideways as she found her voice. “You’re saying this woman was - is - some sort of technological being? But then, who controls her?”

“She controls herself, supposedly,” Patty said. “She said she was an autonomous hologram.”

“I see,” Angel said, not exactly convinced.

Patty shrugged. “I guess if she was being controlled, she wouldn’t know. Or wouldn’t say?” Angel’s companion pursed her lips. “Damn it. Angel, am I too naive? I tend to take people at face value unless they’ve given me a reason to believe otherwise.”

“You haven’t seen some of the things I’ve seen, that’s all,” Angel said. She realized then how this supposedly holographic woman was becoming a distraction. Perhaps a deliberate effort on the part of that Epsilon group, to divert attention. “Never mind. Explain more about the organization. You mentioned an artifact?”

Patty nodded. “Correct. There’s something in this area that’s not supposed to be here. Epsilon, they came here to retrieve it, all the way from some other world. But they were unable to pinpoint its exact location. That’s why they wanted my help, as they need to get out it of here before that octopus organization can get involved.”

Angel’s fingers tapped on the desk. Patty seemed absolutely sincere in everything she was saying.

As to the Epsilon organization, they had definitely done their homework, in not wanting to attract undue attention to the area. Perhaps that was even why they hadn’t wanted Angel to stick around? As surely some operatives of the Octopus were checking in on her from time to time. And maybe Epsilon knew that.

Still. That didn’t mean this new organization or their mystery technology could be immediately trusted.

Angel realized her next choice was clear.

(Actually, it’s not clear at all, is it? So you get to help decide.)

poll.fm/12903060

UPDATE NOV 10: We’ve had only one vote so far, and I’m dealing with midterm report cards. Thus plan is to have another part out before month’s end, but you have at least another week to increase our vote count.)

ANGEL PASTA: PART TWO

Angel calmly replaced her teacup in its saucer before squinting back at him. “Wait, what the–”

“This captain was at fault for mooring his boat too long, and not listening to our dock master, Vesso,” Jules continued, cutting her off. “Vesso is a friend of mine, so I interceded, as I happened to be in the area.”

As he paused, Angel stared. “Why are we talking about your personal problems?”

“Because when I insisted that this captain leave,” Jules continued doggedly, “he glared at me, pulled on his beard, pointed his pipe my way and said he hoped that I lost my job. And here we are, with my job in jeopardy because of all those jellyfish disrupting our city’s tourism industry. You see the connection, surely.”

Angel began to regret her plan of using the town’s head of tourism as her first source of information. On the other hand, she now understood why he had cleared his schedule to meet with her on short notice. By now, any others he’d shared his theories with had probably given up on making any sense out of them.

Still, she had seen some weird things in her life up to this point. Best to rule out the curse angle entirely before looking for a more mundane explanation.

“Anything else?” she asked.

“I think my marriage is falling apart,” Jules sighed.

Angel resisted the urge to facepalm. “I meant about the captain,” she clarified. “For instance, who was he?”

“Oh! I have no idea,” Jules admitted.

[caption id=“attachment_3536” align=“alignright” width=“204”] ANGEL RUSÉE[/caption]

Angel tilted her head in such a way as to make one of the bunny ears on her hairband twitch. A skill she was inordinately proud of. “I need a name. Ship name. Ship records. Something.”

“Vesso would have a lot of that,” Jules assured her. “But he won’t release them to me because he doesn’t believe that this captain is linked to the jellyfish. He must be under their influence somehow. So, maybe someone else at the docks?”

“Mmm hmm, I see,” Angel said. There were so many other more plausible options. She took another sip of tea as she considered where to go next. Seemed best to frame any inquiry with this captain in mind. “Look, Jules, is there any source of jellyfish nearby, which this captain could be using?”

“Not that I’m aware. It’s sorcery, I tell you.”

“Yet… cloning ray technology, perhaps? Portal generator? Transmogrification?”

Now Jules was staring. “Those seem like very far fetched ideas.”

“Mmm hmm. You’d be surprised.” Angel leaned back in her chair. This was going nowhere. “Fine. I’ll be in touch.”

Jules nodded, leaning forwards eagerly. “Absolutely. Let me know if I can be of any further assistance.”

“Of course.” Angel gave him a little two finger salute, and headed back towards her van.

She had planned to head to the beaches, but she supposed the ship yards was an angle worthy of a quick look first. And it was probably best to do that now, before word of her arrival spread. Not to mention people might be getting tired this late in the day, thus more prone to letting something slip.

She double checked the map she had picked up of the area, and drove off.

To be clear, the unexpected arrival of a swarm of jellyfish into a Mediterranean beach area was not without precedent. It generally depended on water currents and a number of other factors. For instance, the summer, and higher temperatures. Overfishing could also increase the amount of plankton in an area, leaving a food source for jellyfish.

Angel had researched all of that at the library before setting out.

However, she also knew from her research that jellyfish were more likely to be present in August, not June, that the sheer number of them remaining in one place for so long was unprecedented, and in this case, they seemed to be flashing their luminescence at strange intervals. Enough to warrant an investigation.

And a number of fishing boat captains knew this was a strange circumstance too.

“I don’t know why they’re still floating out there. They’re going to kill all the fish,” one captain grumbled at her.

“They’re clogging the nets,” another sighed. “I don’t see how this could be of benefit to anyone.”

“Yeah, I heard about that disagreement,” a deckhand mused, when Angel brought up the incident with Jules. “Not sure who was really at fault, though I haven’t seen that captain around since the jellyfish came. I think he travels up and down the coast? No, I don’t know his name.”

Vesso himself was not very forthcoming.

“If there’s an issue, fill out the appropriate forms in triplicate and get back to me in two days,” he said, gesturing at the stacks of paper near his desk. “At that point I’ll take it under advisement.”

As tempting as it was to get a peek at Vesso’s records some other way, this wasn’t an emergency situation. In such cases, Angel preferred to go through the proper channels, at least to start.

She filed her request for information, based on the shaky supposition that she was an investigator, and this captain might know about the jellyfish, as he had not been seen since their arrival.

She slept in her van that night, and had a look along the beaches the following morning.

They were mostly deserted. Some jellyfish had washed up, and from what she could tell, they didn’t look out of the ordinary. She found a starfish that had washed ashore as well, and tossed it back into the surf.

By that afternoon, word was starting to get around that a redhead wearing bunny ears with an affinity for animals was asking questions. Angel rather hoped that this would prompt people with information to seek her out, and so she rented a hotel room for at least a couple of nights, in order to be more easily found.

Of course, the other thing her notoriety was liable to do was make anyone who was behind the scheme more wary. Angel tried to keep an eye out for anyone who might be observing her activities.

Granted, she knew all too well that her ability to charm others far outweighed her general alertness skills, but it felt important to make the effort. She also tried to ask fewer questions that evening, hoping that anyone who was observing her would become bored by her doing little of interest aside from eating some delicious crêpes.

A woman came to see Angel on her second morning in town.

Angel was having breakfast in the café across from the hotel when the dark haired woman approached her table.

“Is this seat taken?” the woman asked, gesturing at the empty chair across from Angel.

Angel shook her head and gestured. “By all means.”

The woman sat, and Angel gave her a quick once-over.

Her black hair was shoulder length and mostly straight, except for two ringlets down either side of her face that corkscrewed like fusilli. She had also clipped a farfalle-style bow into her hair, which was equally black. In fact, black was something of a motif for her.

Her dress was black, her stockings were black and her ankle boots were black.

The dress, at least, had a design print on it, showing grey and white “U” or “C” shapes (depending on how you oriented yourself). It fluffed out past her waist, went down to her knees, kept her arms bare, and showed a hint of cleavage. Though the straps over her shoulders were the thickness of at least three fingers, implying a degree of modesty.

Her makeup, in contrast, was a pink blush and red lipstick. Quite the counterpoint to the black everywhere else. A glance for any bracelets or rings revealed nothing, though the woman did have silver earrings in the shape of sea shells, or rather, conchiglie. She looked to be in her late twenties, so maybe three or four years younger than Angel herself.

She was definitely attractive.

Angel briefly regretted her own choice of attire - her standard white blouse, dark slacks, and lab coat, which she had decided to put on so that she could keep notepaper and pencil stubs in the pockets. She wished she had chosen to wear something more feminine instead.

Granted, it’s not like this was going to morph into a date. And the presence of her gun in its holster also made that fantasy harder to picture. Still, Angel found herself trying to recall the last time she’d had a meal with such an alluring woman.

Alas, the fact that her mind was wandering that way meant that this was probably a trap.

“You are playing a dangerous game, Angel Rusée,” the woman said, after sizing up Angel as well.

“I couldn’t find any safe ones in town. Sorry, didn’t catch your name?” Angel added, offering a smile as she leaned her chin onto the palm of one hand.

“Hmph. Call me Pâtes, or simply Patty,” the woman said, scrutinizing Angel once more.

It was as if pasta, pâté, and burgers had become connected in one, single, intriguing name. Good thing she was already eating a croissant, Angel mused, or she might get hungry. “No last name?”

Patty grunted. “No. Listen. You should leave.”

Angel shook her head, now clasping her hands and resting them on the table. “That seems rude, given you only just sat down with me. Can I buy you something, Patty?”

Patty frowned, looking yet again at Angel. Angel fancied that this time, the other woman was trying to suss out Angel’s sexual preferences. Angel didn’t advertise them, but didn’t make a point of hiding them either. After all, if anyone was going to be bigoted towards her, Angel preferred to know sooner as opposed to later.

Patty’s gaze now darted left and right. “Wait. You… you can’t have been asking all around town about the jellyfish to get to me, surely?” she said.

“Alas, no,” Angel admitted. “I truly am concerned about the sea creatures. But that doesn’t prevent me from giving an attractive woman an amuse-bouche. Hmm? Particularly if she is connected to the case.” She winked.

Patty visibly flinched. “Y-You’re no chef,” she protested over the double entendre. With amuse-bouche being a complimentary bite-sized hors d’oeuvre offered by a chef, as well as suggesting a literal translation to ‘mouth amusement’ in english.

“Wait until I cook you a meal before saying that,” Angel suggested.

“Nngh.” Patty squirmed in her chair, visibly off balance, so at least Angel had managed to gain the upper hand there. “Are you this charming with men too?” she asked after a moment.

“If I require information from them, yes,” Angel admitted. “But I don’t derive the same pleasure from their company. Or invite to cook for them.”

Patty’s tongue ran over her upper lip as she glanced quickly around the area again. “Zut alors,” she muttered at last. “You would be a sirène.” She took a deep breath. “All right, Angel. I still think you should leave. But if you insist, I’ll level with you as to why.”

“Please do,” Angel said with a smile. “And allow me to at least order you a croissant.”

(Did I have this dark clothed woman in mind when I began writing? Not at all. So, who is she then? You tell me.)

poll.fm/12853610

ɛ PROJECT

WB (Writing Bufferless) presents…

STORY 7: ANGEL PASTA

[caption id=“attachment_1916” align=“aligncenter” width=“150”] Story 7 of ???[/caption]

STORY #7:

Angel is a Troubleshooter, in an alternate France of 1963. (Based on a recent RPG game I played in.) There’s problems in a sea town, but how could this relate to the Epsilon Project? Find out more by reading below.

CAST:

ANGEL RUSÉE … A thirty-something bunny-ears veterinarian (from an RP campaign)

more to come, presumably

EPISODE INDEX:

1. Raccoon City (Sept 24, 2023)

2. Pâtes Down (Oct 9)

3. Holo Graphic (Oct 25)

4. Between You and Mimi (Nov 29)

5. Angel Investigations (Jan 14)

6. Sneak Errs (Jan 28)

7. Bad Lock (Feb 16)

8. Support Beam (Feb 29)

9. (coming when I figure out what to do about WordPress going AI)

ANGEL PASTA: PART ONE

Angel sighed, flicked some of her long orangey-red hair off her shoulder, and leaned back against the nearby wall. “He was abusing animals,” she pointed out.

She hated this. It was coming down to a case of he-said-she-said, and she prided herself on her honesty. If only there were some easy way for a simple French citizen to record their own personal evidence, unobtrusively, to back up their side of the story.

Still, she supposed having such a technology would carry with it a field of new problems. For now, this situation was merely a minor inconvenience.

“This woman needs to be arrested, immediately. She might have killed me,” her nemesis of the moment continued.

Angel glanced around the small police station to get a sense of how much attention they were garnering from the locals. She couldn’t see the entire back of the police station from this side of the counter, but a couple desks were visible from her vantage point. The cops seemed interested enough to look their way, but not interested enough to stand up out of their chairs.

Conversely, the policeman at the front counter had become interested enough to put out the cigarette he’d been smoking upon their arrival.

Angel was pleased by that, at least. She’d never seen the point of deliberately inhaling smoke, particularly indoors. When she had occasion to be roughing it in her travels across the country, she generally avoided sticking her face directly above a campfire. For good reason.

No amount of feeling relaxed was worth the difficulties one could experience in breathing.

“Eddy, can you explain?” counter cop requested of the other individual standing near the front doors.

Angel looked to the policeman who had brought the both of them in.

The rotund man shook his head. “I went to investigate a noise complaint and found the two of them in a standoff,” Eddy explained. “Angel here insisted that we come down to the station to resolve it, and Jacques didn’t disagree.”

“Of course. Because she should be arrested,” Jacques reiterated, gesturing at Angel.

Counterman tried to wave off Jacques. “Let me get the facts here. Did Angel have a gun?”

“I pointed a water gun at him,” Angel piped up in her defence.

“Non, it was a real firearm that you swapped out as soon as the police showed up,” Jacques argued.

“STOP, both of you,” the man behind the counter said. “Eddy?”

“She had in her possession both a water gun and a handgun,” Eddy admitted.

“Fully licensed handgun,” Angel added. “Which I did not draw.”

“And why,” Jacques insisted, “would anyone carry around a water gun as well as a real gun, except to use the water gun to disguise the fact that they are a dangerous, good-for-nothing gun bunny?”

Angel clenched one hand into a fist. This was reaching her breaking point. “Ta gueule,” she sniped, making a point of speaking to Jacques rather than the policemen. “First, the water gun was for the raccoons. Second, the handgun is good for getting me out of trouble with people who are genuinely evil, as opposed to merely idiotic. And finally, it’s veterinarian bunny, thank you very much.”

The bunny ears hairband she constantly wore was an affectation from her youth. It was less to impress these days, and more to distinguish herself, as well as put people off their guard around her. Even if it did invite questions that she would just as soon not answer.

[caption id=“attachment_3502” align=“alignright” width=“207”] ANGEL RUSEE
(image of Charlotte Yeager of Strike Witches)[/caption]

Besides, the ears were cream coloured and went with her lab coat, when she had occasion to wear it. Today, of course, she had elected to go with a simple white blouse and dark pants, not wanting to potentially tear any of her other outfits while dealing with Jacques’s shenanigans.

Eddy was looking at her now in puzzlement. Angel idly reached up to make sure neither of the bunny ears was overly drooping.

“Wait,” Eddy said. “You’re not from around here. How did you know about our raccoon problem?”

“I hear things,” Angel said, finally pushing back off the wall. “As I travel. In fact, it is why I decided to stick around and help you gentlemen out.”

“Don’t meddle in affairs that don’t concern you,” Jacques cut back in.

It was Eddy’s turn to attempt to wave off Jacques. “Angel, have you seen any raccoons behaving this way elsewhere in France?” he asked.

“Non,” she answered. “After all, to be causing disruptions in only a small area, evading capture and then seemingly vanishing, it would require the assistance of humans.”

“We suspected as much, but all our suspects in the region have alibis,” Eddy explained.

“Cages can be remotely triggered for release,” Angel stated. “As simple as a pin held in place with melting ice, or as complicated as an electronic device. And if one has an accomplice, it provides a chance for misdirection at an appropriate time.”

“Oho! And you think that’s what happened here,” Eddy realized, looking impressed.

“Non,” Angel corrected. “I was merely suggesting lines of inquiry for your future investigations. In this case, I believe the problem is that Jacques Barbier was never properly considered as a suspect in the first place.”

“What? Me, a suspect?” Jacques sputtered. “You’re crazy, lady. The raccoons have been targeting my properties. As the landlord, I’m a victim here too.”

Angel glanced at her watch. She supposed the time had come to pursue this to its logical conclusion.

“Are you?” she continued. “They are your properties, meaning you could set up things in advance. Ensure there was something on the premises the raccoons would find interesting, before releasing them. Ensure that the traps would malfunction, even as you tracked and recaptured the poor animals elsewhere later on, keeping them locked up in a basement until the next time they would be needed.”

“You dumb bunny,” Jacques yelled at her. “Why would I do all of that to devalue my own properties?”

“Aside from the hope of paying less property tax?” Angel mused. “There’s the fact that you do not like your current tenants, as they have recently created a tenants association. Yet you face a stiff penalty if you kick them out. One that does not apply if they choose to leave of their own volition.”

Jacques froze, looking to her now like a deer caught in some headlights. “You have no proof of this.”

“Don’t I?” Angel said, smiling.

Jacques stared at her, then quickly turned to slap his hand back down on the countertop yet again. “Arrest this woman already for pointing her firearm at me.”

The man at the counter looked back up from some papers that he had been signing. “Sorry, are you all quite finished? Are we back to including me in this discussion?” he asked.

“Philippe, Angel Rusee has a fascinating theory about the raccoon case,” Eddy noted. “Much better than Jules' theory about animal zombies.”

Angel’s eyes went wide at that, and she shuddered at the very thought of it. Though she supposed credit was due for creative thinking, whomever Jules was.

“I was mostly listening,” Philippe said, resting his cheek on his palm. “I must say, I’m becoming inclined to arrest the both of you, to let someone else sort this all out later.”

“That could prove to be an issue,” Angel cautioned. “I do have some friends in high places.”

“She means she’s friends with birds,” Jacques snorted.

“Them too,” Angel admitted.

Alas, as tempting as it might be to mention her assistance with the mind control device affair in Paris, or the orichalcum affair in Greece, Angel knew both were highly classified. Not to mention unlikely to be of interest to anyone living in one of these smaller French cities.

Fortunately, Pierre chose that moment to arrive.

The sixteen year old had been very interested in Angel’s investigations, and she had decided that befriending one of the residents of Jacques properties was in her best interests. His assistance had been invaluable the previous night.

“Officer Philippe? I have evidence that Jacques is behind all the damage the raccoons are doing,” Pierre stated breathlessly, slapping a manilla envelope down on the front counter. He shot Angel a wide grin, which she acknowledged with a small smile. His timing was excellent.

“Ridiculous,” Jacques scoffed. “What could you possibly have in an envelope that might incriminate me?”

“Photographic evidence,” Pierre clarified. He looked again to Angel. “The pictures from last night turned out real good.”

Jacques got a deer in the headlights look again. “Impossible,” he gasped. He rounded on Angel. “Last night - the lights turning on and off, that was no accident?”

“Correct,” she agreed.

“You set me up and then took a photograph of me when I went to check on my raccoons,” Jacques continued, aghast.

“Non,” Angel clarified. “Pierre here took the photos. This is technically his fight, not mine.”

“But then, when you came to my place this morning, that was a ruse,” Jacques extrapolated. “You wanted us both at the police station now. In fact, you’ve been buying time all morning, waiting for the photos to be developed.”

“You have finally made a valid accusation of me there, yes,” Angel affirmed.

Jacques looked stunned for a moment. He looked at everyone present, glanced towards the door, and then at the envelope on the counter. “Th-This is inadmissible evidence,” Jacques said, pointing at the folder, his arm shaking.

“Had you kept the raccoons on your private property, rather than in a more public location, perhaps,” Angel remarked. “But even if, for some reason, the photos are not accepted? I would think your blurting out the equivalent of a confession in front of the police here would be enough to incriminate you. Yes?”

Jacques looked around again, then bolted for the door.

Eddy, it turned out, could move surprisingly fast for his size, quickly grasping Jacques by the arm and twisting him around to pin him against the wall. Jacques slumped as the fight immediately went out of him.

Angel shook her head. “Imbecile,” she muttered in French.

Eddy turned to Angel. “Thank you for your assistance,” he remarked. “Both of you,” he added, looking to Pierre.

Pierre dropped into a crouch with one leg out, and thrust his arm into the air. “Yes, Pierre rocks! Thanks Angel. I’ve got it from here,” he added.

Angel fired off another smile his way, then looked towards Philippe. “As you local police seem to have things well in hand, I will be on my way. Or do you require me to stick around to deal with a gun charge?”

Philippe rubbed his forehead. “Gun charge? What gun charge, it was only a water gun. Just, don’t leave the area for twenty four hours, all right?”

“Acceptable,” Angel agreed.

Under his breath, she heard Philippe add, “My daughter would never forgive me if she found out I arrested a woman who talks to animals. She loves Snow White.”

Angel’s opinion of the officer went up several notches. The 1937 Disney film had indeed been an influence on her. Not many tended to pick up on that.

Of course, she had only seen the film after the more sobering occupation of France during the Second World War. Which she had experienced at an age even younger than Pierre. And it had left its own impact, meaning Angel was not inclined to actually leave the police station until her handgun had been returned to her and tucked away again in its holster.

Angel was back on the road with her van the following afternoon.

Her original destination upon leaving Paris had not been “raccoon city”, after all, but rather the seashore. She had simply made the small detour, once she’d heard about their issue in a neighbouring town.

If only the seashore trip had been for a vacation.

No, she had received a phone call that a particular coastal city was having a serious problem with jellyfish. There were far too many near the shore, causing problems for humans and sea creatures alike. And someone had heard of Angel’s area of expertise, and given her a heads up.

She now made a point of phoning ahead, so that she would not be wandering aimlessly around the town trying to find someone who knew anything about the situation. The gentleman who was involved in city tourism had seemed to be her best bet, and indeed he was only too happy to agree to meet with her, once she had explained who she was.

They met at a small cafe in the early evening, an hour after her arrival in town.

“I do not understand. This is so bizarre. I am so confused,” said Jules as he stirred his coffee. “I do hope you can help get people wanting to use the beaches again.”

“I am more concerned with the sea life,” Angel admitted, “but we will see what I can do.” She took a sip of tea. “Now, how did this all begin?”

[crowdsignal poll=‘12749310’]

Of note, while the new Crowdsignal polls encourage you to embed polls in posts, they become near impossible to edit that way - resulting in my temporarily changing the background colour of the entire site - but doing them separate now seems to work. Thanks for reading, poll is open until early October, closing some time after the 1st.)

For those who have not been keeping track, I haven't run a live serial since April 2021. Between mathNEWS and Mercury fic posts, I've spent over two years on reruns. I've no idea how much of that has been due to parenting and how much due to pandemic teaching (not to mention teaching under conservatives). But I've decided we're due for another.

I will try to keep serial updates to the every two weeks schedule, with the first week for voting and the second for me to write. I say try, because even though I'm only teaching part time, it still feels full time. We'll see if I can manage it.

It will also be an Epsilon style story, but (at least at first) not from the perspective of the Epsilon station.

More backstory here: From February to May of this past year (2023), a friend of mine did a campaign based on the "Troubleshooters" Roleplay system. (This after my Avril character passed away in TORG in January; I posted about that on my home blog.) In this "Troubleshooters", I played Angel Rusée, the bunny ears veterinarian. Given Epsilon is the resting ground for many of my RP characters, I've decided to bring her back here.

She's visually "played by" Charlotte Yaeger from Strike Witches. Different personality (I think, I haven't seen much Strike Witches, I searched bunny ears).

The role-play setting is the year 1963, in a fictional Europe based on Belgian and French style comics. There is a joint French-Japanese mission to the Moon slated for 1964. Of course, Europe still has the Iron Curtain and we don't have sexual equality, so it's not all wonderful. Sometimes, it's difficult to even figure out what day of the week it is (see below).

I don't know if this is a good idea, but I want to try it, so we'll see how it goes.

Here's our first votes. How do YOU think the serial should go? (What might YOU read?)

Writing related, I have now joined AO3 (Archive of Our Own) as it's been suggested that Time & Tied might play well there. Recall the story's already on RoyalRoadL so it's not like my website is the exclusive location.

Knowing that, here's other (unpolled) questions, should I run it at the same time as Epsilon here? Should I wait? Alternatively, should I even start there with T&T, or would it be better to start with something else, like the fanfic I've just been reposting?

I don't yet know how engagement works on that site. Input appreciated.

Meanwhile, FWI, "Time Untied" is now 265,000 words (officially splitting off into "Time Denied" around the 160,000 mark) and it's GETTING there. I'm actually far enough along with the plot threads out that I can see a resolution in the nebulous future. I'll be trying to tackle it again in November, as per usual. I hope audience interest hasn't completely waned, some earlier edits will be needed before the unveiling.

We could be a year out, unless that's optimistic, depending on whatever else happens in my life.

COINS UPDATE

As long as I'm updating, let's also talk coins. We haven't had any behind the scenes update since my "Summary of 2020" post back in April of 2021.

A reminder, to end 2015, I had 42 coins from that year. During 2016 I got 37 minted coins (some in BC). During 2017 I got 20 coins minted that year (some before June). During 2018 I got 21 coins minted, during 2019 I got 17 coins minted that year, then pandemic. During 2020 I got one, plus a quarter to start 2021, so calling it two.

In 2021, there were also only two (and again the quarter might have been the start of February 2022, I don't recall). Conversely, in 2022, I started getting current quarters in MAY. By the end of the year, I had 10 coins (half were quarters). So, easier time travel is returning.

Except, this year, 2023, nothing yet. I strongly suspect that's because we have no more queen. With the death of Elizabeth II about a year ago (Sept 8) all the Canadian coins will need a new image on the back.

I have come across more coins of prior years subsequently, by the way. Ten 2022 coins, including a special loonie. Nineteen 2021 coins including a special dime. Twelve 2020 coins (though no nickels). I'm not entirely sure why I've kept collecting. Proof of concept, maybe?

The time car may possibly make a return for the T&T sequel, so let's say it's research.

STATS UPDATE

I don't want this to be long post, but let's finish up with thoughts on Stats, since once again, it's been over two years since I've said much of anything.

First, my publicity has been abysmal. There's no time for that, and teaching, and parenting, and actual writing, and some reading too. Not if I want to shop for groceries and sleep and mundane stuff like that.

Absolutely not helping was the implosion of Twitter a year ago (with the idiot billionaire who will not be named), and I've moved to Mastodon. Last month, JetPack finally allowed for auto-posting there instead of Twitter (I'd already been using Tumblr in place of Twitter, even though I never spend any time there.) The thing with queuing up posts a couple months in advance is one tends to forget that they're going out on the Sundays.

As a reminder, my engagement high water mark was in 2017, when I had almost 7k views across all the content on this site. Since then, there's been more content and less views. In 2020, with everyone stuck at home, I was down to 1,635 page views on the site (670 visitors). In 2021, we had 1,394 views (402 visitors) and in 2022 a slight uptick to 1,531 views (896 visitors) overall.

Meaning we're mostly holding steady (even though content has increased), seemingly with a lot more people looking at less views per page. That's not great.

It's continuing this year. So far in 2023 we've passed 1,300 views, but with over 1,000 visitors, implying a lot of people arriving, looking at a single page, then leaving. I need to fix that, and I'm hoping the new organic serial will help. If you have other suggestions, let me know.

In terms of interaction, the last comment I had was May 2022 (thanks John), so it's been a year of silence there too. At least about the site, fortunately, I have had commentary on some of my Mastodon posts. I mostly talk about "Time Untied" there, though occasionally my other writing.

Speaking of, shout out to #TimeTravelAuthors, the hashtag which didn't even exist 14 months ago, meaning this must be the first mention on this site. It's because of that group, that I had a short story published in December 2022. (On paper in February 2023.) It's in this anthology, The Accidental Time Traveler's Collective, and you should check it out because there's lot of other great stories there along with my "Free Will".

That was added to the catalogue of all my writing as well.

That's all the key stuff, let me know if you think there's something that I missed out on, or if you otherwise have any questions. The above polls will be open for a week, then I'll see if I can crank something out.

Thanks as always for reading, and take care.