The beat was loud, and the bass could be felt twenty feet outside the club. There were the usual clusters of people outside, smoking or talking or just cooling off from the heat of over two hundred bodies packed into one small place. Security stood outside front and stage doors, dressed in black and looking forbidding. The headliners were advertised in giant red-on-white letters beneath the club logo, Warehouse.
Solace grinned, straightened her baby-doll FuturePerfect tour t-shirt, and proudly presented her ticket. The concert wouldn't start for an hour and a half yet, but she wanted to make sure she could find her friends in the crowd.
The doorman took her ticket, patted her down, stamped her hand and nodded her in all without changing expression. She had never been here regularly enough to know him, but from what Neil had said his name was Joe and he had a strange habit of package-checking guys without warning. The bartender on duty she did know from some of the other parties, and she gave him a nod as she passed him, passed the DeeJay, and moved on over to the cluster of familiar faces towards the back.
"What's the good word?"
"The word of the evening is... Ciaaaaoooo..." Neil rolled the word around in his mouth in true Izzardian fashion, grinning. Three to five wadded up napkins hit him in the head.
"No more Comedy Central for you. Julian, how's it hanging."
"Low and to the left." Six napkins. "What are you up to, Sol?"
"About five foot nine." Only three napkins for her. She slid into the booth, over Neil's lap, between him and Samantha. "How are things going? I see I missed the opening act..."
"You missed the first opening act. Blumchard's on next, and then VNV..." The other three broke into a chant at the mention of the band. "After that." Now Julian was more mouthing the words than actually talking, since Sol couldn't hear him anyway. "Assemblage was pretty good. You missed a good show. Did you bring your pet Squirrel?"
"He's a Fed, Julian, and no, I didn't bring him. He's looking up Kerr, seems my darling ex-husband was involved in more than we ever figured him for."
That cut a chill into the table and calmed the chanting. Neil dropped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her lightly. "Like what?"
"Computer crime, hacking, internet terrorism, that sort of thing. Nothing really major, but Smith thinks they've linked him to some of the bigger groups, so they're keeping an eye on him. They can't charge him with anything yet, more's the pity, and they haven't been able to find any permanent address for him. They're still looking, though." Her eyes dropped and she trailed off, unwilling to build up the lie anymore.
It was really starting to gall her that she couldn't tell them the truth. That she couldn't just tell them all what was going on, get them all unplugged. She knew everyone who was born in the Matrix and had lived in it long enough to make some good friends felt that way. Even so, each time she talked with them about things like her ex-husband, her so-called career, her family who didn't even know she existed anymore, she felt like she was lying. Doubly so, because she had to lie to Smith too, even though she knew exactly what he was.
The worrying part about it, the dangerous aspect was that she was finding it more and more difficult to lie to Smith. It made things almost nerve-wracking. They could talk about anything... history, philosophy, music, literature... anything that didn't involve his so-called job or her past. Whenever anything came up that forced them to talk in euphamisms she found herself wanting more and more to just blurt out who and what she was, just tell him and get it over with. She wanted to tell him the truth, and she was starting to resent the lies between them. It was disturbing, both for the danger it represented and for the potential underlying reasons.
I need a spirit who can touch my life. I need a voice to speak the truth. I need a soul who will be on my side. I need a hope I never knew.
Music drifted in, out, around her mind as she tugged on her hair and knotted her skirt up, trying to figure out a solution to the sticky problem. If she told him, the experiment would be over. It bothered her just how much that didn't factor into her deliberations. If she told him, he would never trust her again, would hunt her down as avidly as he had the rest of the Resistance, possibly worse.
"Hey..." Sam touched her arm, making her jump. "Sol? You okay, honey?"
"Yeah..." she took a deep breath. "Yeah. I'm okay." Everyone was looking at her with varying degrees of concern, some with sympathy, some just with confusion.
"Worried about your ex?" Neil asked, reaching over to squeeze her hand gently. He was one of the less confused more sympathetic ones, probably because (according to gossip) he had had dealings with a similarly psychotic ex-girlfriend and a kitchen knife.
"A little. Also kind of worried about Smith. He wanted to try and set up a meeting with someone today, I think to see if he could get a job there..."
She let her head droop onto Neil's shoulder, and they all relaxed. "Yeah..." Julian shook his head. "Being out of a job sucks, especially now. How long was he with that firm?"
Blumchen was starting up, and they had to shout to be heard. Samantha and "I don't know... a long time. A very long time, probably a good twenty years..."
"So, right out of college."
Solace had to try not to giggle hysterically at the thought of Smith going as a student to a university or, worse, to a high school. "Yeah, pretty much."
"And he worked with them for twenty years plus without a problem? He'll get another job quick. It'll be okay. Or he could probably just take what he's saved up and invest it and still do okay, the stock market isn't that bad, and he looks like he's been really good with his money. That car alone must have cost a packet, or he got it almost new."
If only Julian knew. Solace shrugged, uncomfortable. "I don't know. The kind of things we do together don't really cost all that much... walking in the park, that kind of thing."
Julian and Neil exchanged a glance that said volumes in some sort of masculine code Solace couldn't read.
"What?"
"Nothing..." they said together, and Solace rolled her eyes.
"Nothing, my ass. I saw that look, that wasn't a nothing look, that was an obscurely male something the woman won't understand look. What are you two up to?"
Neil smirked and kissed Solace on the forehead. "Nothing that should distract you from the wonderful concert we are about to enjoy. Go, secure us a place on the dance floor. We'll be out in a couple minutes."
She did so, giving them speculative glances over her shoulder (and most of them with her tongue out). Blumchen had whipped up the dancers to a low-grade frenzy, but enterprising and probably single gentlemen elbowed her and Samantha a path up to the stage. Solace pushed all thoughts of Smith, Agents, the Matrix, and the Resistance to the back of her mind. It had been a long time since she'd been to a Zion revel, and even longer since she'd been to an real live... so to speak... concert. She dove into the rhythm with a vengeance, and cheered with the rest as an hour flew by in a second and VNV Nation took the stage.
Stand your ground! This is what we're fighting for!
Head swaying, feet pounding, body moving in almost hypnotic patterns, Solace sunk herself into the music to escape the nagging thoughts that were plaguing her almost constantly now. Around her she could feel the bodies of her friends, pressed tight together in the crowd. Neil slipped his arms around her occasionally and gave her a hug when he thought she wasn't paying attention. Julian kept a protective eye on her, Samantha gave her a wink and a nudge when a likely looking young man writhed past. She remembered dreaming of spending days like this when she was a child.
Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war!
It felt so good to cut loose again. To just let go and dance, and exhaust her body. She'd sleep well tonight, and probably ache tomorrow morning. Small price to pay, and she wasn't getting enough exercise anyway. Not that this was exercise, but she'd be dancing around the ship for days to come. And she didn't have to worry about a thing. There probably wasn't anything really for her to worry about anyways.
"To the darkened skies, once more!" she sang along with the band, and the entire audience. "And ever onward!" If only they knew. But it didn't matter right now.
Two hours of hot, sweaty, pulse-pounding fun later, she and her friends emerged into the night air that seemed so much colder by comparison. They shivered, huddling around each other for warmth as they struggled to pull on their jackets.
"Jesus Jumping Christ..."
"Man, I haven't had that much fun since..."
Solace grinned up at Richard. "Even you had fun. Admit it!"
He scowled, but everyone could tell it was more pretend, for the sake of form. "I admit nothing."
Neil rolled his eyes and made quack gestures with his hand behind Richard's back as everyone laughed at the man's stubbornness. "Anyway, let's go find someplace to eat that's still open at this godawful hour. I'm starved!"
"And thoroughly drunk." Samantha backed away. "Your breath smells like cough syrup."
He shrugged. "Five shots of Jaegermeister will do that to you."
Solace punched him lightly in the arm. "Sober up, you. You're the only one who knows where the all-night Perkins is around here. At least, you keep saying there's one. Personally, I think they're a myth."
"Oh." Neil blinked. "Right."
Julian looped his arm through Neil's and half supported, half dragged him to the car. Solace, Sam, and the rest of the crew followed chattering behind. Across the street, into the parking lot, and dodging the cars while avoiding turning Neil into road pizza.
It would have been a lot easier if Smith hadn't been leaning on Sam's sedan.
"You sure you two aren't... mmm?" she whispered.
"Damn sure," Solace snapped back, nervous. "What are you doing here? I thought VNV wasn't your sort of deal..."
"Not his bag, baby?" Neil burst into giggles, the Jaegermeister obviously taking effect.
"I thought I might join you for dinner afterwards... if you had no particular plans?"
"None that can't... ow." Samantha practically shoved her at the Agent, as the rest of her friends were herded quietly away. Nothing to see here, folks. Solace shifted a little to avoid being placed directly into Smith's arms. "Nothing that can't be changed, we were just going to try and sober up the drunken mop-head over there. They can do it without me."
"Mop head?!"
Smith extended his arm, gentleman even at three in the morning. Solace laced her arm through his neatly, ignoring the protests of her friend. "Did you find out anything about... er, from your ex-co-workers?"
"A little. I am to meet with them tomorrow, for lunch. It is partly why I thought I would take you out to dinner tonight, an apology in advance for not sharing our usual walk in the park."
"Ah..." She tried to suppress the little flutter in her heart at the thought, the sudden tightness of her throat. "Well.. thank you."
"You are welcome," he said gravely, and they drove off to the sound of Neil still protesting his innocence and sobriety.
Solace grinned, straightened her baby-doll FuturePerfect tour t-shirt, and proudly presented her ticket. The concert wouldn't start for an hour and a half yet, but she wanted to make sure she could find her friends in the crowd.
The doorman took her ticket, patted her down, stamped her hand and nodded her in all without changing expression. She had never been here regularly enough to know him, but from what Neil had said his name was Joe and he had a strange habit of package-checking guys without warning. The bartender on duty she did know from some of the other parties, and she gave him a nod as she passed him, passed the DeeJay, and moved on over to the cluster of familiar faces towards the back.
"What's the good word?"
"The word of the evening is... Ciaaaaoooo..." Neil rolled the word around in his mouth in true Izzardian fashion, grinning. Three to five wadded up napkins hit him in the head.
"No more Comedy Central for you. Julian, how's it hanging."
"Low and to the left." Six napkins. "What are you up to, Sol?"
"About five foot nine." Only three napkins for her. She slid into the booth, over Neil's lap, between him and Samantha. "How are things going? I see I missed the opening act..."
"You missed the first opening act. Blumchard's on next, and then VNV..." The other three broke into a chant at the mention of the band. "After that." Now Julian was more mouthing the words than actually talking, since Sol couldn't hear him anyway. "Assemblage was pretty good. You missed a good show. Did you bring your pet Squirrel?"
"He's a Fed, Julian, and no, I didn't bring him. He's looking up Kerr, seems my darling ex-husband was involved in more than we ever figured him for."
That cut a chill into the table and calmed the chanting. Neil dropped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her lightly. "Like what?"
"Computer crime, hacking, internet terrorism, that sort of thing. Nothing really major, but Smith thinks they've linked him to some of the bigger groups, so they're keeping an eye on him. They can't charge him with anything yet, more's the pity, and they haven't been able to find any permanent address for him. They're still looking, though." Her eyes dropped and she trailed off, unwilling to build up the lie anymore.
It was really starting to gall her that she couldn't tell them the truth. That she couldn't just tell them all what was going on, get them all unplugged. She knew everyone who was born in the Matrix and had lived in it long enough to make some good friends felt that way. Even so, each time she talked with them about things like her ex-husband, her so-called career, her family who didn't even know she existed anymore, she felt like she was lying. Doubly so, because she had to lie to Smith too, even though she knew exactly what he was.
The worrying part about it, the dangerous aspect was that she was finding it more and more difficult to lie to Smith. It made things almost nerve-wracking. They could talk about anything... history, philosophy, music, literature... anything that didn't involve his so-called job or her past. Whenever anything came up that forced them to talk in euphamisms she found herself wanting more and more to just blurt out who and what she was, just tell him and get it over with. She wanted to tell him the truth, and she was starting to resent the lies between them. It was disturbing, both for the danger it represented and for the potential underlying reasons.
I need a spirit who can touch my life. I need a voice to speak the truth. I need a soul who will be on my side. I need a hope I never knew.
Music drifted in, out, around her mind as she tugged on her hair and knotted her skirt up, trying to figure out a solution to the sticky problem. If she told him, the experiment would be over. It bothered her just how much that didn't factor into her deliberations. If she told him, he would never trust her again, would hunt her down as avidly as he had the rest of the Resistance, possibly worse.
"Hey..." Sam touched her arm, making her jump. "Sol? You okay, honey?"
"Yeah..." she took a deep breath. "Yeah. I'm okay." Everyone was looking at her with varying degrees of concern, some with sympathy, some just with confusion.
"Worried about your ex?" Neil asked, reaching over to squeeze her hand gently. He was one of the less confused more sympathetic ones, probably because (according to gossip) he had had dealings with a similarly psychotic ex-girlfriend and a kitchen knife.
"A little. Also kind of worried about Smith. He wanted to try and set up a meeting with someone today, I think to see if he could get a job there..."
She let her head droop onto Neil's shoulder, and they all relaxed. "Yeah..." Julian shook his head. "Being out of a job sucks, especially now. How long was he with that firm?"
Blumchen was starting up, and they had to shout to be heard. Samantha and "I don't know... a long time. A very long time, probably a good twenty years..."
"So, right out of college."
Solace had to try not to giggle hysterically at the thought of Smith going as a student to a university or, worse, to a high school. "Yeah, pretty much."
"And he worked with them for twenty years plus without a problem? He'll get another job quick. It'll be okay. Or he could probably just take what he's saved up and invest it and still do okay, the stock market isn't that bad, and he looks like he's been really good with his money. That car alone must have cost a packet, or he got it almost new."
If only Julian knew. Solace shrugged, uncomfortable. "I don't know. The kind of things we do together don't really cost all that much... walking in the park, that kind of thing."
Julian and Neil exchanged a glance that said volumes in some sort of masculine code Solace couldn't read.
"What?"
"Nothing..." they said together, and Solace rolled her eyes.
"Nothing, my ass. I saw that look, that wasn't a nothing look, that was an obscurely male something the woman won't understand look. What are you two up to?"
Neil smirked and kissed Solace on the forehead. "Nothing that should distract you from the wonderful concert we are about to enjoy. Go, secure us a place on the dance floor. We'll be out in a couple minutes."
She did so, giving them speculative glances over her shoulder (and most of them with her tongue out). Blumchen had whipped up the dancers to a low-grade frenzy, but enterprising and probably single gentlemen elbowed her and Samantha a path up to the stage. Solace pushed all thoughts of Smith, Agents, the Matrix, and the Resistance to the back of her mind. It had been a long time since she'd been to a Zion revel, and even longer since she'd been to an real live... so to speak... concert. She dove into the rhythm with a vengeance, and cheered with the rest as an hour flew by in a second and VNV Nation took the stage.
Stand your ground! This is what we're fighting for!
Head swaying, feet pounding, body moving in almost hypnotic patterns, Solace sunk herself into the music to escape the nagging thoughts that were plaguing her almost constantly now. Around her she could feel the bodies of her friends, pressed tight together in the crowd. Neil slipped his arms around her occasionally and gave her a hug when he thought she wasn't paying attention. Julian kept a protective eye on her, Samantha gave her a wink and a nudge when a likely looking young man writhed past. She remembered dreaming of spending days like this when she was a child.
Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war!
It felt so good to cut loose again. To just let go and dance, and exhaust her body. She'd sleep well tonight, and probably ache tomorrow morning. Small price to pay, and she wasn't getting enough exercise anyway. Not that this was exercise, but she'd be dancing around the ship for days to come. And she didn't have to worry about a thing. There probably wasn't anything really for her to worry about anyways.
"To the darkened skies, once more!" she sang along with the band, and the entire audience. "And ever onward!" If only they knew. But it didn't matter right now.
Two hours of hot, sweaty, pulse-pounding fun later, she and her friends emerged into the night air that seemed so much colder by comparison. They shivered, huddling around each other for warmth as they struggled to pull on their jackets.
"Jesus Jumping Christ..."
"Man, I haven't had that much fun since..."
Solace grinned up at Richard. "Even you had fun. Admit it!"
He scowled, but everyone could tell it was more pretend, for the sake of form. "I admit nothing."
Neil rolled his eyes and made quack gestures with his hand behind Richard's back as everyone laughed at the man's stubbornness. "Anyway, let's go find someplace to eat that's still open at this godawful hour. I'm starved!"
"And thoroughly drunk." Samantha backed away. "Your breath smells like cough syrup."
He shrugged. "Five shots of Jaegermeister will do that to you."
Solace punched him lightly in the arm. "Sober up, you. You're the only one who knows where the all-night Perkins is around here. At least, you keep saying there's one. Personally, I think they're a myth."
"Oh." Neil blinked. "Right."
Julian looped his arm through Neil's and half supported, half dragged him to the car. Solace, Sam, and the rest of the crew followed chattering behind. Across the street, into the parking lot, and dodging the cars while avoiding turning Neil into road pizza.
It would have been a lot easier if Smith hadn't been leaning on Sam's sedan.
"You sure you two aren't... mmm?" she whispered.
"Damn sure," Solace snapped back, nervous. "What are you doing here? I thought VNV wasn't your sort of deal..."
"Not his bag, baby?" Neil burst into giggles, the Jaegermeister obviously taking effect.
"I thought I might join you for dinner afterwards... if you had no particular plans?"
"None that can't... ow." Samantha practically shoved her at the Agent, as the rest of her friends were herded quietly away. Nothing to see here, folks. Solace shifted a little to avoid being placed directly into Smith's arms. "Nothing that can't be changed, we were just going to try and sober up the drunken mop-head over there. They can do it without me."
"Mop head?!"
Smith extended his arm, gentleman even at three in the morning. Solace laced her arm through his neatly, ignoring the protests of her friend. "Did you find out anything about... er, from your ex-co-workers?"
"A little. I am to meet with them tomorrow, for lunch. It is partly why I thought I would take you out to dinner tonight, an apology in advance for not sharing our usual walk in the park."
"Ah..." She tried to suppress the little flutter in her heart at the thought, the sudden tightness of her throat. "Well.. thank you."
"You are welcome," he said gravely, and they drove off to the sound of Neil still protesting his innocence and sobriety.