An excerpt from the novel in progress,Redux
“Do we really need this, Nora?” The panther, attempting to swish his oversized paw at the surrounding jungle, became entangled in a vine. He struggled to free himself of the coiling stem, causing his seat, the cup of a three-foot-high Nepenthe plant, to sway precariously. Strands of synth-music melded with thick, fleshy foliage, punctuated by the screeches of macaws winging through the verdant canopy.
The panther shook his head, rubbed a paw along the bulbous plant beneath his hind quarters. “This isn't even historically correct, you know.”
The lynx across the table smiled smugly. She balanced gracefully on a waxy flower of an Alpinia purpurata, crossing her legs in a very unlynx-like manner.
Grayson James was struck by how effectively the lynx avatar conveyed his boss’s persona. Although Nora Kingston claimed she chose the lynx for its reference to an antiquated data search prog, he suspected it had more to do with the painted look of the cat's eyes, which were precisely the same oblong shape as hers.
His boss’s physical appearance, which on a lesser-leveled individual would have been a handicap, proclaimed the power of her heritage. Only highly placed parents would have been permitted to raise a child smaller than the parameters for normal and with features outside any param. Grayson had worked with Nora a long chron before he’d worked up the nerve to ask about her long black hair, which was as shiny as a polished furniture piece, and her golden skin. Her revelation that her mother was AmeriAsian and her father American-African had confused Grayson and he'd spent good creds researching the archaic, geo-based designations. He could find nothing to explain the gray of her eyes nor why no medi-beauty treatments had been prescripted to correct her appearance.
As a crimson butterfly floated languidly past their hardwood burr table, Nora said, “I love it here. The expressed-Oh! Machine, the fabulous animals.” Her tail swished like a frond in a thick wind. She arched her back and her lynx head swiveled on its ruff of white fur. Her ears twitched in two separate directions as she perused the jungle around their table, peering past the towering tree trunks and lurid tropical flowers. She had invoked the public setting of a virtual cafe because a face-to-face meeting in the real world was unthinkable. No one in Information Society faced-to-faced except the lowest leveleds whose jobs brought them into actual contact with the outside. And the Uns, those who had been uncredited.
Without credit, an Information Society citizen could not access her home, compunits, gov privileges or medical care. Being unned was more than banishment — it was tantamount to a death sentence. Ejected from the conapt towers, the Uns became streeters, forced to exist outside, in the toxic environ that citizens were protected from.
A clump of red ginger next to the table parted and a rouge-nippled primate bounded through it. The scents of coffee and vanilla clung to her fur, overpowering the moist sweetness of the surrounding jungle plants. She thumped down next to Grayson and asked for their orders, her squeaky voice at odds with the baboonish avatar.
“My treat,” Nora reminded Grayson. If one were leveled highly enough, or willing to expend sufficient credit, one could purchase anything at a virtual cafe, from a semi-private tryst to a v-tour of the past. With Nora Kingston's credit, even her underling’s conapt could generate the most exotic of experiences.
Grayson had never taken his superior up on her offers and tonight, or this morning, or whatever cycle they were in, was not the time to start. He ordered two coffee Maliciosos, Nora's preferred beverage. The baboon scribbled their orders on a papyrus scroll then sashayed back the way she had come. When she turned to wink, she caught Grayson admiring her colorful, rounded buttocks and laughed a high-pitched bark.
After the baboon had disappeared among the fronds, Nora turned her attention to the surroundings. Her long tail waved at a red fox slinking through the underbrush. The animal's toothy grin as he checked out the lynx bordered on indecent. When he veered off trail to sniff Nora, a ridge of fur rose along Grayson’s spine. His guttural growl sent the fox scurrying.
The panther spoke to the lynx in a low purr, “This must be important.”
“Heya Frankie!” The fox, closer than Grayson had realized, shouted a greeting at a spindly-legged stork who was hunched over a cup at a counter, suddenly visible as tall, tiger-striped leaves parted around the fox.
The stork fluttered a feathery arm-wing.
“Surrey!” The fox clamored up a root, transforming as he climbed. By the time he reached a flattened outcropping next to the stork, the fox had become man-sized. He settled himself on the rock stool and immediately turned his face from the bird and began greeting other patrons with a toothy smile. Animals as long extinct as the fox and lynx, sat along the counter conversing, or danced on the flower-strewn grass. The fox’s salacious musings on intra-canid interplay elicited a growl and baring of teeth from a passing wolf. The wolf flashed her silky flank and stalked off. The stork pinkened flamingo-like. Laughter erupted in hoots and howls throughout the jungle.
“You have to wonder why, with the whole multiverse to choose from, someone would come to the cafe as an awkward, powerless bird,” Grayson said.
“He obviously has a thing for that she-wolf,” the lynx replied. “My guess is that Mr. Crane over there is outside standard params, tall and thin, like his av.” Which would mean that he, too, came from special circumstances. “It takes a strong will to subvert nature.”
The baboon trampled the ginger again as she returned, carrying a seedpod cup in each hand. Opposable thumbs notwithstanding, she managed to slop the gooey liquid onto their table. She neither apologized nor cleaned the spill. She did, however, rub herself twice against Grayson in the process of delivering the drinks.
Nora waited until the primate, with one last, lingering look at the sleek black panther, flounced through the flowers. “Have you ever wondered how things started?” She tested the steaming liquid in her seedpod with a demure flick of her tongue.
The panther wrapped both his paws around his cup and awkwardly hoisted it. “You mean like the big bang?” Not that he had lips to be read, but he made sure that his forepaws and the large cup blocked the view of his mouth.
Nora Kingston, ever graceful, regardless of form, chose to leave her cup on the table. She lowered her head and lapped daintily. “Like the Earthwatchers.” Her words fell softly into her Malicioso.
Playing the counterpoint to his boss, Grayson slurped loudly. “Everyone knows they're compiling a multidimensional model of Earth that will encompass all of Gaia's spheres, all her life from the vast oceans to the smallest microbes, the atmosphere and mountains, rivers and mineral deposits.”
The lynx nodded, a tiny half-smile on her perfect feline mouth. Her tail swished in sync with a drumbeat whose volume increased in proportion to the speed of the tail. “Yes. We were all taught that. Have you wondered what's taking so long? The environ's more toxic every cycle.”
The panther lowered his cup next to the lynx's. His head bent as he concentrated on keeping the malicioso in the seedpod. He focused so intently that he didn’t appear to notice his avatar’s nearness to the sleek feline.
Nora mewed softly into Grayson’s ear, “They aren't saving us. It was a power grab. Information has always been power. The Collection fueled the Expansion, mapping and netting our whole society. They'd have us believe Information Society is Gaia. That the Gov and the planet are one being.” The lynx’s tail moved hypnotically, a rhythmic distraction from her words. “Did you know there are areas of the planet still unnetted? How can we model Gaia without worldwide data?” The music throbbed louder.
The sinuous tail undulated, fluttering against the panther. A shudder pulsed through both animals. Electricity crackled as fur met fur.
Blue sparks flashed.
The lynx’s cup overturned. Hot liquid spilled.
The thudding back-beat ceased and the animals leapt apart.
“Allow me to get that.” A probing black tongue slithered across the table. A toad, the size and shape of a Sumo wrestler, crouched next to them. “Malicioso. My favorite.” The amphibian sprouted lips with which he grinned.
The panther’s powerful paw slapped the earth. He roared, prepared to pounce.
The toad extruded man-sized legs and scarpered away. He darted through the jungle, weaving around tables, scooping delicacies with his tongue, trampling fragile blossoms, and knocking over dishes. He croaked a rumbling laugh at the chaos in his wake.
“Disgusting reptile,” the panther snarled and smoothed his fur.
Nora threw her small head back and howled. “I knew you had it in you, Grayson.”
“Is this a joke to you?” Muscles rippled under the panther’s pelt as he paced the small clearing around their table.
The lynx fluffed her fur. Waggled her silvery whiskers. And smiled a very catlike smile.
“What is this about, Nora? Is it Siberia? Do we have a case?” The panther tail dragged the dirt. He scratched his ear where the fur was knotted around a cluster of burs.
Nora stretched, a perfect languid use of her cat avatar. She was one hundred percent feline as she murmured softly, “Sit down, Grayson. You’re calling attention to us.”
The name plucked the man from the panther. Grayson slumped, uncomfortably aware of how much he had inhabited the av’s reflexes.
Nora, always herself, purred, “Don't worry. The resorts will pay. The suit is solid.” She allowed her tail to twitch. In response, a tambour throbbed. Foliage fluttered and closed around them. “There’s something. I’m not sure what to do. Have you ever heard of Rachel Car--?”
The jungle cafe imploded.
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