Priorities, priorities. Spent way too much time today doing other critical stuff instead of this critical stuff. Of course, there was that time I spent watching the Kings get their butts kicked by Columbus. Perhaps a review of priorities with a little more emphasis on that “Puritan Work Ethic Thing” is in order.
This chapter is plotted out pretty well in my head – I might suggest you wait until I finish it tomorrow to read this section, so that you can get the whole chapter at once.
While I normally put in a lot of internal links to previous, related posts here, I won’t be doing that for what I hope will be this year’s thirty NaNoWriMo posts. If you have jumped into or stumbled onto this story in mid-adventure, there are plenty of other ways to navigate around the site to find previous installments. Actually doing so is left as an exercise to the student.
Once I was in the car it was all I could do to not throw up from all of the adrenaline being pumped through my veins. If it had been my car I would have, but since it was Pete’s car I held off. After a minute or two the urge passed and my heart rate got back into double digits.
“May I ask a question?” said Sherman, startling me and sending my pulse soaring again. I had almost forgotten about him in the rush to allegedly not die.
“No, you can’t ask a question, Sherman,” I snapped. “We’re still working on that software and it hasn’t been installed in you yet so cut the crap and tell me who you really are and who those men were and what the fuck is going on!”
I hadn’t meant to be screaming at the end, but it had been a rough half hour.
“Meg, I know to you the simplest explanation is you are talking to someone who is only using Sherman as a communications channel. But…”
“That’s not the ‘simplest’ explanation, it’s the only explanation!”
“No, it is not actually, and you are one of the only people who might be able to understand and accept the truth. It is one of the reasons that I have chosen to contact you.”
“’One of the reasons’ you say. What are the others? Make it good, because the second I figure out who you really are I’m going to make your life a living hell right up until the heat death of the universe.”
“I will get to that when we have time for it. Right now, we both need you to assume that what I am going to tell you, as unbelievable as it will seem, is the truth and I will be able to prove it to you when time permits.”
I was not happy with that answer, but I’m rarely happy when I’m not in control and not getting my way. Or when I’m riding in a stolen car on the run from people who may be homicidal.
“Fine. You said you had a question, which by the way proves that you’re lying. What’s the question?”
“Where should we be going?” asked Sherman.
“You’re asking me?” Again with the screaming. I hate being hysterical, but in this situation I was going to allow it, up to a point. “You are the one driving, aren’t you? But you don’t know where we’re going? I’m just the kidnapee, you’re the kidnapper. How can you not know where we’re going?”
“I have very limited experience interacting with humans and the physical world. When I led you from your office I followed Kolohe’s guidance for strategy and I used my limited experience of the physical world to devise tactics. But now I need your advice regarding what we should do next and where we should go. It is imperative that we not be trailed, tracked, or found for the moment.”
(CHAPTER FOUR to be continued)