The memory librarian, p.15
The Memory Librarian, page 15
“We cannot keep that outsider in the Cave!” Rhapsody sputtered. “It’s no better than having men in here, and that’s a line we’re not going to cross today, Neer.”
“That’s not—”
“We could vote on it right here and right now,” Rhapsody countered. “That’s fair.”
Neer attempted to stand a little straighter, but they knew Rhapsody wouldn’t have proposed this if she didn’t already know the outcome. The votes were already obvious before they took a count. Pel abstained, while Nomie hesitantly voted to take Bat under guard to the hotel. This felt wrong, like the weight of panic settling where the justice and safety of the hotel should have been.
Jane helped Bat stand, whispered to the blushound something that kept her from kicking up a storm. Neer watched, feeling helpless; what could they do? They couldn’t very well explain why they felt the need to at least be kind to the blushound, even after the attack. The old distrust of their own voice rushed in. They didn’t trust themselves to recount how it felt to see Bat react to the dirt in the Cave, at least not well enough to change anyone’s mind. Words weren’t Neer’s art, the courage to speak them even less.
But they could do something. “Nomie,” they hissed as others started to leave the Cave.
Nomie was spooked for a moment, as if she expected Neer to do something more than speak. “Y-yeah?”
“You got a water bottle on you?” After a moment, Nomie handed one over. “Thanks.” Neer opened the bottle and emptied the water inside into the dirt, before Nomie had time to be baffled. Then they grabbed the sharpest rock they could find, cutting around the top of the bottle to allow for a larger opening.
Nomie’s eyes went wide. “You’re gathering dirt and taking it out of the Cave?”
Neer grunted in acknowledgment. “We’ve done it before. It’s not as potent, but it’s something.”
“But that’s—”
“Nomie.” Neer’s head shot up, and the intensity they directed at Nomie silenced her. “Bat needs the kind of healing the dirt provides. Or maybe it’s not healing . . . it helps, okay? And I’m not a prison guard or New Dawn. I know what I saw, and I’m not going to deny her this.” It took a moment before Neer added, “I’ve already messed up once by binding her; I’m not making the mistake of forgetting compassion again.
“And fuck anyone who wants to deprive her of a handful of dirt.”
Neer moved past Nomie with an affected confidence that they were only able to fake because most of the Pynk Hotel was walking in front of them. Still, behind them, they heard Nomie’s sputtering surprise.
“‘Bat’?”
“You’re gonna get locked up.”
Neer was worrying a nail and trying their best to ignore Bat. “We don’t lock people up.”
“What?”
“You heard Jane in the Cave. I made a mistake cuffing you before. We’re not a fucking police state,” Neer mumbled around their ring finger. “Incarceration isn’t . . .” They didn’t have the energy for a political argument with Bat, not while wondering what was about to happen with the Chord.
Neer had done their best to lay out their case to the Chord, explaining the same story to the hotel that they had to Jane. Jane did what she could to speak up for them, but the facts were unavoidable: Neer knew about a threat to the hotel (Bat), didn’t tell everyone immediately, and then gave her access to the Cave. Each part of that was a grave error, and Neer didn’t know what would happen if the Chord decided that this was all intentional.
There was always forgiveness for folly and mistakes within the hotel, but if they felt the way Rhapsody did? If the others voted that this plus the sabotage was too coincidental? Then Neer would be considered a traitor to their friends and family and lovers, and that had never happened before in the history of the hotel. And if this was judged to be a betrayal . . . would they still be able to offer forgiveness?
Would Neer even deserve it?
“Okay, fine.” Bat grunted. “They’ll probably exile you, then. Maybe they’ll set us both off together, since you ‘don’t do incarceration,’” she said, sounding doubtful still.
Neer laughed at the absurdity of that image, of the two of them—Bat still with wrist restraints and a half bottle of dark brown dirt—walking out into the desert. “Well, at least if we get picked up by New Dawn, they can’t gas you . . .” Neer tried to stay joking, but it hurt.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“You’re getting emotional and it’s a small room,” Bat explained.
Neer sighed. “How exactly am I supposed to stop my emotions?”
Bat peered at a pinch of dirt they had between two fingers, holding it up to their nose for a moment, sniffing at it. Studying. “I don’t know. This is why it’s easier with New Dawn people,” Bat explained. “They’re . . . flatter than the rest of you dirty computers.”
“Because they’ve had their memories erased,” Neer snarled. “Clean means they’ve had everything taken from them.”
Bat paused, sucking her teeth, and Neer was getting sick of other people making that sound. She rolled the dirt between her fingers before sinking the two fingers back into the bottle. “I can’t help that your emotions hurt my head.”
“And I can’t help having emotions,” they snapped back. “You can at least respect that they’re mine.”
Bat exhaled, almost in relief, before flicking her chin up to get some curls off of her face. “At least stay angry. Anger causes less of a migraine when I smell it.”
But that wasn’t who Neer was, and already her anger was dissipating. “Who am I going to be angry at?”
Bat shrugged, holding up the dirt bottle in Neer’s direction. “Take this. Last time I tried to put it down I nearly knocked the thing over.”
Neer knelt and grabbed it, holding the bottle in their hands. The ritual of knowing the dirt was in their hands did help, a little, to quiet the million what-ifs flying through their mind. “If I was angry,” they said carefully, “I would only be angry at myself. And I can’t imagine that ‘smells’ very good.”
Bat narrowed her eyes again. “No . . .” She sounded surprised. “It smells like misery and hatred.” After a moment, she broke eye contact. “Like that woman who was yelling at you. Smelled hateful enough to make my head pulse.”
“She doesn’t hate everyone,” Neer said after a moment. “She loves the hotel. It’s outsiders and New Dawn that she hates.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yes,” Neer said with absolute surety. “You don’t come to the Pynk Hotel to persecute. You come to get away from that, and she’s stayed and been part of the community for a long time.” Neer didn’t elaborate on the way that Neer and Rhapsody likely had different definitions of outsider, though. Bat could sense emotions, so trying to hide certain things made no sense; telling everything made even less sense. Not wanting to dwell on it, they asked, “Why attack us, Bat? If you told everyone, it might go a long way—”
“New Dawn hired me to track an emotional scent, and that’s what I did. Not my fault you got in the way.”
“You attacked me, remember.”
“Yeah. Right.”
“So they’re looking for one person?” Neer seized on that with a strength that made Bat flinch for a moment. “Rhapsody?”
Bat shook her head. “Absolutely the fuck not.”
“Then . . . ?”
Bat rolled her eyes. “Jane.”
Of course it was Jane. That made a horrific kind of sense; Jane was a failure to clean, an escapee.
“I was told to keep watch when her trail took her away from the hotel, take her while she was alone.” Bat gestured to Neer’s arms. “You have her emotional smells all over you. What, do you guys share clothes or something?”
“What? Yes, we all do—” Neer’s eyes went wide. “The patches.” Bat stared blankly, so Neer added, “I used her clothes to patch up my sweatshirt. Something she wore back at New Dawn.” In fact, it was one of the rare pieces of clothing in the hotel that bore only Jane’s past. How many times had Jane looked at it and thought about her past, her present? Neer had smelled like her, and that had drawn Bat to them.
In a small way, Neer was proud they’d been able to keep Jane safe.
But they still had questions. “And why now? Who in New Dawn—”
“If you don’t do prison, I assume you’re not an interrogator and I don’t have to answer anything I don’t want to.”
“Of course not.” Neer’s answer was as sincere and immediate as earlier ones. “I just . . .” Needed to know. Not for the hotel, although the safety of the hotel was in the forefront of Neer’s mind, but to explain the situation they were in. To be able to explain it to Jane above all. Would that make up for getting Jane involved?
Bat was taken aback. “I don’t usually get a say in whether or not I answer.”
“You don’t usually spend time at the Pynk Hotel,” Neer replied.
“Hard to get a reservation,” Bat sneered.
“No, it’s just hard to find. But once you’re here, you’re welcome. Even by ones who may not do so as fully as others.”
Bat shook her head. “How naive are you that right now you’re still singing their praises?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Neer started, only to immediately piece together every little dig that Bat had taken. Quietly, “Are you saying you smell someone who feels . . . off?”
“I’m saying you know I do and—” Bat looked woozy suddenly, honeyed skin growing splotchy and green. Her nose flared as the door to the hotel room opened.
Ah, Neer thought, that would be a reason for Bat’s sudden illness. Jane was at the door, and Neer didn’t need an empathic sense of smell to see all the warring emotions playing across her face. Rage, disappointment, frustration, fear, and worry must have been a heady, nauseating perfume for the blushound, and filled Neer too with their own anxious blend of feeling.
“Well?” Neer tried to keep their voice even, but trying to hide the quavering meant they spoke too fast to be nonchalant. “What was the vote?” Normally, Neer and Bat would have been in the room, but a preliminary motion requested by members of the Chord had had them step out. There was pressure and suspicion attached to them seeing the vote, and since Bat wasn’t a hotel occupant, it made sense to keep them away. Neer agreed to wait things out in their bedroom; it had meant, at least, that Neer could keep the dirt with Bat while showing they had no desire to fight with the rest of the hotel.
Any little thing to help.
It didn’t seem it had helped all that much.
Jane was struggling to find words over a pacing irritation, though, and so Neer stood up, holding out Bat’s dirt to Jane. “Tell me a story,” Neer offered. “Of what happened in the room.”
Jane blinked, taking a moment to refocus on the plastic bottle in Neer’s hand. “Is that from the Cave?”
“It’s like watered-down rum.” Bat raised her voice slightly. “Can you even share it?”
“If there’s anything I know about that cave,” Neer said, not turning from Jane, “it’s that every grain of dirt there is for all of us, and those that we want to help. Right?” Jane nodded, and Neer held up the bottle again, this time slightly tilting it. Jane obliged, holding up a palm so that Neer could sprinkle some dirt into her hand.
Jane’s fingers curled around the dirt tightly. It wasn’t rooted the same, Neer knew, wasn’t attached to the Cave the same. But that didn’t mean that it wasn’t a part of the same earth that grounded them, wasn’t the same scrap of planet that helped keep them dirty. Neer wanted to will that truth into the handful of dirt Jane was holding, into Jane’s mind.
“Tell me a story,” Neer repeated.
Jane closed her eyes and breathed in deep. Neer watched her expression soften, relax. Turn from frustrated and fixated to focused. It was a meditative moment that Neer had seen many times, even if it was odd to see outside of the Cave.
“I told them I was against the decision,” Jane started, “because it wasn’t what we did. It’s like I’ve told you a hundred times, and like you’ve seen two hundred times more: we come here to be free, to be allowed our flaws and our wildness, and that means we offer each other forgiveness and grace and understanding.
“But instead, Rhapsody spoke of things that sounded like the outside world, and she made the others so scared of what was beyond the walls of the hotel leaking in that they agreed. Said we couldn’t trust that you hadn’t caused the sabotage, that if you were protecting blushounds you might be protecting New Dawn and hurting us.”
That was both exactly what Neer had expected and everything that didn’t make sense. Jane was right; the hotel had always been a place of healing and understanding, but since the sabotage, the attacks . . . Neer had seen in Rhapsody’s eyes what she would say to the Chord, not that she’d been particularly quiet about it.
Neer didn’t mention the conversation that they’d had with Rhapsody while on patrol. Why are you here? Rhapsody had asked. Neer wondered if Rhapsody had used their answer to sway the room, whether or not they’d realized it.
Instead, Neer prodded Jane to continue. “And what did the Chord decide to play?”
“Keep you under guard until others investigated,” Jane answered after a strained silence. “It was . . . noted that I was too involved to lead the investigation, because you’d been such a support to me. So I volunteered to guard you both.”
“They agreed to that?” Neer was surprised. If Jane wasn’t impartial enough to investigate . . .
Jane’s mouth quirked up wryly, a bit of cynicism making her open her eyes and leave the meditative state. “They may have agreed to Rhapsody investigating you, but they weren’t going to totally shut me out in a vote. I’m pretty sure Gui and Pel would have had their heads, and that’s before considering what would happen when Zen got back.” Zen’s name had a gravitational effect on Jane’s smirk, pulling it down into a frown. “Wish Zen was here. I sent word to her to cut her scouting trip short, that the hotel was going through it, but it’ll still take her awhile to return.” Jane shook her head, trailing off as someone called her name outside the door. “I’ll be right back, okay? We’ll figure this out.”
Jane’s angry optimism was offset by the sound of the door closing behind her.
Bat was laughing. No, it was a snicker, bubbling up behind Neer. Neer turned and glared. “What’s so funny?”
“You’re not a police state, but you’re sure as fuck letting the executioner lead your investigation. The fuck does that sound like to you?”
Neer was getting fed up. “Stop hinting at things and playing games. You have something to say, say it.” They whirled around to face Bat; Bat had said anger caused them fewer migraines, so maybe Neer was performing a mercy.
Bat tilted her head for a moment. Then, slowly, she pressed her back against the wall so she could push herself up into a standing position. At first, Neer thought Bat was savoring the moment spitefully, but then Neer noticed that Bat was still faintly green; the hotel was plenty painful right now, for everyone in it; it just took a different form in this room, for the two of them.
Neer shoved back their irritation for long enough to bring the plastic bottle over to Bat. They held up the bottle below Bat’s nose, and she inhaled deeply, letting out a long sigh. “Tell me the truth, Bat.” Neer didn’t think that Bat was one for stories.
“I know Rhapsody wasn’t a target,” Bat explained. “I know that because I’ve smelled her hatred and fear before.
“I smelled them all over the New Dawn facility where they hired me.”
Neer was already feeling helpless by the time night hit.
No one was going to believe Bat now, and that meant few people would believe it coming from Neer either. Telling Jane lifted some of the burden; Jane trusted Neer’s instincts enough not to dismiss it but could only do so much. They needed proof for the Chord, and neither Neer nor Bat nor even Jane had any of that.
They both knew, but what good was knowing when Rhapsody had stripped most of the trust that the hotel had in Neer?
They couldn’t rightly snoop in Rhapsody’s room either. Everyone went in and out of each other’s rooms often, as friends and lovers. But there was no way that Neer would be able to both sneak away and get into Rhapsody’s room without anyone noticing, and Jane being gone from their side too long would rouse suspicion.
Jane said that Rhapsody was at least encouraging everyone to stay alert. For whatever good that would do if what Bat said was true.
“They had you testing the perimeter as well?” Neer asked again.
Bat’s offered information was offered grumpily now, due to Neer’s repetition and the clear irritation of the wrist restraints. “Yes. Several blushounds were sent to test and wreck security traps. New Dawn authorities tend to work in squads. Big, splashy transports, NDRs, and such. We don’t like being too close to others, so we’re trained to be a little more . . . quiet when necessary.” Bat dropped her head back, staring at the ceiling. Neer had suggested the bed, but Bat declined; there were more emotional scents on the sheets than on the floor. “We were given a map of the points, and ways of tracking Jane . . . old clothes, taken when she was brought into New Dawn I guess, since they were all tulle and leather.”
“They didn’t burn them?” Neer was surprised.
“Guess not.” Bat shrugged noncommittally. “I don’t like doing sabotage when I have a choice. I like a fight more. So I got tracking duty.”
“You had a map, though, so it had to be provided by someone who knew the hotel.”
“Exactly. And the map smelled like an angry and scared motherfucker.”
Neer swallowed the now ever-present lump in their throat. They fell silent, knowing the answers to all the other questions they could ask, even if they didn’t want to believe them. Except for the one that Bat couldn’t answer:
Why?
“How should I know?” Bat said. Neer hadn’t realized they’d spoken out loud. “I didn’t meet her; I just know the smell. She was scared and angry when she drew the map. Ask her what got her spooked.”
