Meliora - Emanate - 08

[lady_mab]

No Kaito

“Dude, we’re like ten minutes early.” 

“Uh, so? There could be a line? I could want to get good seats?” I give the woman at the host station a playful smile as I sweep past her, Lysander hurrying to keep up. 

Rhys told me where the room was, and I’m going to bet that if they keep having their meetings here, they likely have the same room contracted. From a business standpoint, it just makes the most sense. 

We weave our way through the tables of restaurant patrons before reaching the hall for the meeting rooms. The good news is that there is no line. 

The bad news is that there are no seats. 

A handful of other people are already standing in the room, and there is a buffet table against the back wall. The room looks so needlessly large with nothing but the food and the people scattered to the four corners in order to avoid one another. They leave a large gap in the middle. 

I imagine that the lucky few that got there first are the ones that have laid claim to the buffet territory, keeping the others at bay with furtive glances. When the collective gaze settles on us at our entry, I smile and wave and head straight for the food. 

“I’m so glad we’re here early,” Lysander grumbles from behind me. 

“Shut up. You’re not missing out on anything”

“It’s a Wednesday.” 

“Christ, you’re not thinking about having to work tomorrow, are you?” 

He rakes a hand back through his hair and flashes a lopsided smile. “It’s called being an adult. You should try it.” 

I toss my hands up in the air and groan. “Don’t give me that. Did Rhys tell you to say that? And don’t do that hair and smile thing. It doesn’t work on me.” 

“What?” 

“That thing where you…” I mimic him, though my hair is cut far shorter than his shoulder length strands. “Is that what makes you a good teacher?” 

He frowns as I grab a plate to pile with food. “I teach secondary school. I don’t flirt with my students.” 

“Not on purpose, anyway.” 

“Hey--” 

We get an annoyed stare from one of the other Informants and I almost laugh. We’re here for a meeting that is clearly not about to get underway any time soon, and they’re annoyed that we’re talking. 

Lysander moves idly toward the center of the room, and I trail along behind. “It’s almost eight, and no one looks like they’re ready to step up to lead it.” 

I hold out the plate to him, and he studies it before taking a cracker and some cheese. “Then let’s see if anything happens, and if not, I’m going to do what I do best.” 

“What, mix a mean cocktail or get phone numbers from at least three women?” He grins as I choke on my laughter and mouthful of chicken salad. 

“Strictly business!” I defend. “Or unless she’s really hot. You know I have a weakness for the pretty ones.” 

We stand in the middle of the room, watching more and more people filter in until there are about a hundred others. Even then no one takes control, and the large space continues to feel too large. I finish the food that is on my plate and point to a rubbish bin on the other side of the room. 

“Shall we get started?” 

Lysander sighs and shrugs. He gestures in the direction I’m pointing with a vague hand motion. “I don’t know what you’re hoping to achieve, but yeah, sure. Let’s get going.” 

I’m hoping to prove my ability as Informant, especially after I forced my way onto Rhys’ team. Of course that’s not something I’ll admit to him. “I’m hoping to break the tension hanging onto this room like a pall.”

“Nice vocab word.” 

“Thank you. I thought the teacher would approve.” 

“Hah. Culture and Evolution, not Literature, but you get points for trying.” 

I move toward the far wall, Lysander close on my heels. A few of the Informants milling by that wall catch sight of me and I watch the barely controlled confusion shift to shock as it becomes clear that I’m heading straight for them. 

They even go so far as to see if they could avoid me. Rude. There’s literally nowhere in this room to go, so it’s painfully obvious that they’re even trying. 

My plate gets tossed into the rubbish bin as I pass, and two steps later I’m within speaking distance. “Hi there,” I say to two college age girls that huddle together. Easy starting point. “My name’s Kaito. You Informants for this game, too?” 

One of them mumbles something that might be an affirmative and the other is looking between Lysander and I. 

“I just thought it would be a good idea to start getting to know everyone. You know, since it doesn’t look like there are any other plans for us.” I make sure my smile is as charming as I can make it. These first few are going to be the most difficult. “I work at Temple Fusion.” 

The brunette’s eyes light up. “Oh, I love that bar!” 

“I’m flattered! I guess I should clarify, then, that I own it, but I guess I technically work there too.” 

Her eyes go wider and a small smile brushes across her lips. “I’m Helen, and this is Jenny. We have a class together at the university.” 

“Well.” I offer my hand and she accepts the shake. “Pleasure to meet the two of you. Ah, and this is Lysander. Friend of mine.” 

He just nods and smiles. Jenny stares at him, and blushes a bit when he holds out his hand to shake hers. Ah, if only he knew how to put those looks of his to better use. We could charm this entire place between the two of us. 

“So, what exactly do you think we’re going to be doing this meeting?” I ask. 

By now, two men and another woman have come to join our little circle of chatter. Perhaps, this might be easier than I first thought. 

“One of my… Participants? Teammates?” The man shrugs and keeps going. “They had a few extra questions and apparently they were told to have us bring them.” 

Helen nods along with his words. “Yeah, I was thinking that they were going to have a sort of ‘q and a’ session. But it doesn’t even look like that this APM has even shown up.” 

Truth be told, it’s hard to really say if he has or not. There’s a lot of people milling around with the same sort of expression, even though our little cluster is the only one chatting. For all they know, I could be the assistant to the program manager and am gathering data. 

Well, that’s partly true. I am gathering data. Informants need information, and according to what Rhys and Lionel say, they’re not going to be put on the same level from one team to the next. I need to get as much as possible. 

“Then we just gotta make this our own little party, hm?” I wink and Helen hides a laugh behind her hand. “We’re going to keep moving on, but if you guys ever want to talk about the game with someone, just stop on by Temple Fusion.” Another wink, this one aimed directly to Helen. “You I know I’ll be seeing there.” 

This time, she doesn’t even bother trying to disguise the laugh. 

I turn and make my way towards a young man wearing glasses and a sour expression, standing by himself. At least he doesn’t try to avoid me, though he purses his lips as he glances between me and Lysander. 

“Hello!” I wave, and he shifts his weight from one hip to the other. “The name’s Kaito.” 

“Rain.” He says this so suddenly and without any other sort of indication as to what sort of conversation we’re meant to be having that I don’t respond straight away. 

Upon seeing my evident confusion, he heaves a sigh and rolls his eyes. “My name, not the weather.” 

Lysander laughs, probably a bit louder than intended. “You get that a lot, don’t you?” 

“It would be a lot easier if my parents didn’t name me after a common weather occurrence, yes.” He at least managed a smirk. “I hear you work at Temple Fusion?” 

“Yeah! Have I found another fan?” 

“Mm, sort of. My teammates frequent it, but it’s not really my sort of thing.” Rain shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs. “But I can see how it will be handy in this game.” 

It’s a reassuring phrase, even if it is just sort of tossed out there. “I hope so. That’s kind of what I’m hinging on, really.” 

He makes a small sound in the back of his throat and nods. “Makes sense. Informational hub sort of thing.” 

I cock an eyebrow, and a smirk takes over. “You work with computers, don’t you?” 

Rain winces and rubs the back of his head. “Is it that obvious?” 

“One of my teammates does, too. Runs off at the mouth a lot of time--” Lysander lets out a snort of laughter-- “and I’m pretty sure I’ve heard a variation of that once or twice.” 

“Well, you should move on with your introduction train. Don’t let me stop you.” Rain’s hands return to his pockets and he nods his head in the direction of the buffet table. “I’ll be getting food if you want to find me later.” 

“Before you go.” I pull my phone out of my pocket. “Let me get your number. Next time your teammates stop by the Temple, you should come along too.” 

We exchange numbers, and after he leaves, I turn to find Lysander staring out across the room. 

“I’m sorry, is this boring you?” I tease, nudging him in the ribs. 

He jumps, attention shifting back to me. “No, it’s just… there’s a guy who keeps looking at us.” 

I shrug and move on toward the next cluster of people. “Whatever. We’ll get to him when we get to him. No one is going to escape my charms.”

“You say that like it is possible to even try.”  

Lysander and I wend our way through the room, hitting up as many people as we possibly can on the way through. There are a few who seem to be a bit more on top of things than others, and those I get the numbers for. It’s slightly more personal this way than asking Lio to go and pull another email list like he did before. This way, I get the added benefit of starting to learn everyone’s names and faces. 

Sure enough, there is a man across the room who is pointedly trying to avoid us. He slips between other groups we have already passed through. While he’s not always watching us, it’s obvious that he’s aware of our presence. 

The chance comes to approach the purple haired man of mystery at the far end of the buffet table as he refills his glass with water. 

“Hey there!” I’m greeted with a slight widening of his eyes when I finally corner him. “I’m Kaito. I own and bartend at the Temple Fusion.” 

Lysander holds out a hand. “I’m Lysander. I teach at the secondary school.” 

He studies the offered hand for a moment before allowing a clear look of disdain filter across his features. “Jonas.” A finger points at Lysander, followed by “No, thank you,” then switches to me with a quirked brow and a, “Mildly interested.” 

While certainly not the greeting I expected, it’s amusing enough that I laugh -- more at Lysander’s annoyed frown than anything else. “Do you enjoy long walks on the beach, too?” 

Jonas’ frown shifts into a crooked smile. One shoulder rises in a shrug. “Not in the sludge they have around here.” 

“What do you do for work?” 

“Day job is a hairdresser. Speaking of.” The finger of accusation returns to Lysander. “You could definitely use a haircut. The split ends were crying out for my help all the way across the room.” 

I dissolve into another fit of laughter, nearly missing Lysander’s stutters of protest. “Rhys told you to get a trim.” 

“I know--” He fingers the ends of the strands, pulling them in front of his eyes to look. 

“No excuse now.” 

“Okay, yeah, I get it.” 

Jonas watches our conversation, following it back and forth between us. “You two know each other from outside of this event?” 

I tap my chin in thought. “It’s been, what, almost two years now?”

Lysander grimaces. “Most unfortunate.” 

I smack his arm despite the lingering grin. “Hey, I give you free beer, so you better not complain.” I switch my attention back to Jonas. “Do you know anyone here? You’ve been avoiding people this whole time.” 

He makes a small noise, covering whatever sort of expression his mouth might have made with a hand. When it pulls away a second later, there’s only aloof indifference. “Mildly. A few business partners, but no one I would want to bother associating with more than absolutely necessary.” 

Business partners? That’s a strange term. I call Rhys my business partner, but only because he is mostly responsible for my bar doing as well as it does. Why would a hairdresser need a term like that? 

“Does this sort of thing make you nervous?” Lysander asks, though it’s immediately returned by a snort and frown from Jonas. 

“What, a social gathering filled with bland small talk? Hell no, my job entails this sort of awkward setting. I’m doing what my team hired me to do: Observe.” 

“How can lurking in a corner help you figure things out? Shouldn’t you, I dunno, go up and talk to people?” Lysander sounds almost offended at Jonas’ tactic, though I’m more curious on how well it actually works. 

The hairdresser puts a hand on his hip and arches a delicate eyebrow. He shifts his attention to me even though I wasn’t the one asking the questions. “You’re a people person, right?” I nod, and he continues. “I’ll tell you what I’ve learned by watching. First, you are a very insincere flirt and I’m going to say you also have ‘younger sibling syndrome’ but that, admittedly, I’m not too sure about. Your friend here is an addict.”

While yes, I am a flirt and that much was obvious as I made my way through the room, the younger sibling bit is also true. Lysander, however, is stunned into silence. 

Jonas doesn’t give us a chance to respond before going on -- pointing out some of the other people in the room. “He has a drinking problem, he’s having an affair, and she’s pigeon toed -- which, admittedly, isn’t really a handy piece of information in the long run, but I am just really bothered watching her shuffle around the room in an attempt to walk normally. Also, I think those three men in suits are in a gambling ring.” 

It takes a few seconds for my voice to start working again, and the only thing I manage to say is, “You’re pointing at four people.” 

“Yes, but one of them I know is a gambler. The other three, not too sure about.” He lifts his cup to his lips and waits for our reactions. 

I’m staring across the room, watching the ‘pigeon toed’ woman fidget in her shoes. 

Lysander is the first to respond properly. “Former user. It’s been a few years.” His fingers twitch at his sides, and it suddenly occurs to me that they’ve been doing that all evening. There’s no sign of his vape pen in the pockets of his jeans either. 

“I don’t care. You still show signs of it.” 

Another moment passes before I shake myself out of my daze. “And you can tell all of this from watching people?” 

“Of course.” Jonas tips his cup in my direction. “I know how to read people.” 

At my side, Lysander shifts his weight from one foot to the other. I can tell from a quick glance that he’s annoyed by Jonas’ ‘reading’ of him. “And are you ready for this sort of scrutiny? We’re going to be pitted against someone unknown, and he’s going to be contacting us only over a cellphone.” 

Something shifts in the other man’s expression, and the playful annoyance he had sported turns into something darker. “Bitch, please. I don’t plan on hiding behind a tiny ass little screen the entire time. I got my ways, and I’m going to use them.” 

I hold up a hand before Lysander can respond. “Alright, now you’ve got me curious. First you mention business partners, and now you’re talking like you’re some sort of international man of mysteries.” 

He pauses, studying me for a long stretch of silence. “You said you bartend at a nightclub, right?” Again, he waits for my nod before continuing. “Then, undoubtedly, you’ve heard some people around your establishment mentioning Deco, right?” 

I start to nod again before the name settles into my brain. It’s been awhile since I’ve heard that name, but I recognize it. “You’re the one. The genius behind Deco?” 

Jonas winces, though he quickly turns it into a sad smile and shakes his head. “Unfortunately, I’m second place to his abilities. I’ve maintained the connections he’s made, and in return furthered them beyond his original vision. But… he’s not a part of it anymore.” 

Lysander clears his throat for attention. “What?” 

“I wouldn’t exactly say that Eminence has a bustling underground scene or anything, but there’s a well-known gang called Deco.” I nod in Jonas’ direction and he inclines his head. “They used to do odd jobs for money, but a few years ago, they started to take on a more criminal aspect.” 

Jonas presses a hand to his chest, somehow managing to make offended and pleased combine well together. “Woah now. It’s only criminal if we’re charged for it.” The grin that cuts across his thin mouth lets me know that they are definitely not getting charged any time soon. 

I wince at the prospect. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.” 

“Play this game right, and you won’t have to.” He levels both of us with a warning glare. “We Informants have got to stand up to this ‘faceless entity’ sending out messages through the indifferent medium of cell phones. We’re all working toward the same goal, so we should at least work through it together.” 

Lysander and I exchange glances. While this is sort of what I had been planning, Jonas’ offer sounds a lot more long term. 

“You mean like an alliance?” Lysander offers. 

“Please, this isn’t one of your history lessons. At least, not yet.” 

I extend my hand, and this time Jonas doesn’t hesitate to accept the shake. “Feel free to stop by the bar at any time. It will be a good gathering place to exchange or collect information from the other teams.” 

“Sounds great. You think this APM guy is ever going to show up?” 

Lysander glances down at his phone. “Probably not.” 

I turn to observe the rest of the room. We’ve spoken to most of the people here, and no one yet has given any sort of indication that they are more in control of the situation than the rest of us. “I wonder if he’s somewhere else watching.” 

“Or even one of the people doing a terrible job of mingling.” Jonas lifts both of his eyebrows when we turn to look at him. “What? It’s possible.” 

I’ve considered it myself, but ruled it out after talking with the people. I think Jonas has done the same after observing. 

“If nothing happens in the next two and a half minutes, I’m leaving,” Jonas declares. 

“Alright, but before you go, let me get your number. Drinks on me.” 

He smiles, and I can tell that he’s a flirt in his own way. “Twist my arm, why don’t you.” 

The three of us exchange numbers, and then with a final parting, Lysander and I dive back into the crowd. 

“I don’t know what the point is of staying here any longer,” he says with a heavy sigh. “Besides, I have papers to grade.” 

“Guh, you are teaching summer school, and you give your students papers?” I scrub a hand over my face -- more out of a mild sense of disappointment for this evening than anything else. “Just a few more people then we can go. Or I can always just finish this on my own.” 

“No, I’ve been here this long, might as well keep going for the final stretch.” 

I watch him for a few paces, wondering if I should tell him to go -- even after all the technological advances, addictions are strong things. His worse vice now is his vape pen, but the point remains. 

But he smiles as we approach the next group and at least it doesn’t look forced. So I let it slide, and we get ready for our last few rounds of the evening.