Sand in the Cycle
A star-filled darkness above a perfectly still ocean. She stood up, the vision dissipating. “This, too, will pass.” She then started her preparation for the long day that will come.
The gentle rocking of the train soothed Églantine. As a reporter of sort, she was accustomated to using her trusty Renault everywhere, but after a full day of getting lost in the parisian suburb she got rear-ended on her way back to the hotel, and on a whim decided that braving the famously unreliable commuter trains - and so far she did like the experience. There were a surprising amount of lakes and forest and bridge above the Seine on the way to her destination, and her destination, the city of Cerny, is in a small valley of the plateau de Saclay.
Her train of thought returned to why she was here again. She was part of a superhero information gathering discord server. They started obsessing about the logistic behind the powered armor that Tony S. used. Conventional wisdom is that he is a way-too-rich gadgeteer genius, but it always sounded odd that he didn’t, like, sell the tech behind it, and especially the power source. Someone pored over the hundred of hours of footage of Tony S. and discovered a recurring logo on some of the often-changed pieces. Of course, that logo was of no known companie that Internet know of. Some kind of shield in a circle with small decorations ; Harry thought it was a coat of arm and seeked far deep all the existing ones, before finding an obscur french empire noble called Schneidermann, whose last descendant died without heir in 1890.
But Harry was certain there were some kind of forgotten descendant, and obstinate enough to look through the genealogy of every Schneidermann family existing, pruning every one whose origin demonstrably come from before 1890, and pointed to a woman called Clarence Schneidermann, who live around thirty kilometer away from the manor of the Schneidermann, and whose grandfather served in the foreign legion in WWI. She live in a building that used to be a warehouse of the Schneidermann family and still have the family coat of arm on it. Harry was adamant that it was too many coincidence to be meangingless, and Églantine did live somewhat nearby. Plus she feared the worse if Harry got impatient and tried to interrogate her himself. She isn’t really expecting much of anything, probably a random unrelated elder, but sometime the reward is in the wandering, not in the destination.
Last station before destination. It was adorned by brightly colored arts of (imaginary) superheros of all ages and gender with uplifting messages. “Everyone can be a super hero !”. Is it, tho ? She always had at the back of her thoughts that most people, including her, were consigned to mediocrity and only a few could be more. It’s one of the reason for why she obsess about them. The outer image of so many of them is “random mediocre white man who got lucky”. Some are morally upstanding, most are at least well meaning, but… Églantine banished the jealous question of “why not me”. That’s at least something aspirational about the whole hypothesis of Harry : the lost heir of an old family who found a secret industry destined to help do-gooders after seeing the horrors of wars.. That’s the kind of romanticism that attract her.
Her train was finally approaching her station. A bunch of medium-sized residential building was on the other side of the Seine ; they all had interesting designs where instead of big cubes of concrete they had variously-sized balconies and patios, breaking the boring regularity that mass residential building often have. The pedestrian road to her destination mimicked cobblestone despite being in concrete, while bushes and trees was isolating her from the car road. That certainly looked like a nice place to live, even if that looked very much like 1970 new city architecture, and absolutely not repurposed warehouse. However, a big stone in the wall did have the sigil Harry was tracking ; maybe they only reused some stones for decorations ?
Églantine rang the unassuming door. After a few second, the door opened to a tall, lanky middle aged woman with piercing blue eyes and well-groomed, long hair, with a yellow top and a ankle-down yellow skirt adorned with sunflowers. She looked surprisingly young and athletic for someone whose listed age is just a bit over fifty, albeit there were some hint of silver in her brown hair. She had asymetric jewelry ; a phoenix with a red gem on the right, a dragon with a green one on the left. She had a ring with a blue glass flower on it on her right hand, and two orange pearls linked by a golden twist on the left. Her nails were carefully painted red with yellow markings ? Possibly ideograms, but Églantine feared to look like a leerer if she tried to look too much at them.
“Hello, what can I do for you ?”
“… uhm…” Églantine had a bit of hesitation and almost started to stutter, but got it under control.
“I am Églantine, a reporter who is studying the De Schneidermann family, who used to own this building. Given your family name, I thought you may be able to give me more detail about it.”
“Oh yeah, I am indeed Claire Schneidermann, albeit I would not say I am noble in any fashion. Enter, enter, I do know the story of that city quite a bit and may be able to help you.”
There were some ruffles, the sound of metallic things falling on the floor, and a loud and panicked “meeow”. The woman sighted and said “Don’t mind them. They are keeping me company.”
Églantine followed Claire into the living room, who invited her to take seat at a big table where tea was already served. There were a pile of tantalizing letters just a bit too far to read without looking nosy. The walls were lined with weary book-filled shelves ; the one behind her seat was lower and had on its top a number of colorful art pieces, some art prints, lego-built flowers, a bunch of anime figurine. She recognized them from Touhou, there were a Patchouli with flying book, a sitting Mokou, and Marisa on her broom. Topping that was an exquisitely crafted doll about 30cm long, with long, carefully brushed blond hairs tied with a red ribbon, and a white and blue dress. The level of detail was exquisite, she could almost see nails on her digits and what looked like a tiny earring on her lobes. Églantine noticed the automatic cat feeder fallen on the ground and straightened it.
Looking around, Églantine noticed book-less shelves with other small art exhibitions. One had a bunch of vocaloid figurines arranged as if they were discussing around a campfire, Églantine recognizing the outfit of 2021’s Yuki Miku. Another had Asuka and Rei dancing, with their evas just behind them ; Rei had a red dress and Asuka a white one, as if they just exchanged their outfit. A third had a daisho and an impressive naginata whose black blade seemed incrusted with stars. There were some light signs of wear and tear on the dark blue hilt, albeit it seem unlikely to be an actual fencing weapon. Églantine then noticed the painted ceiling ; it was painted as a georgeous ephemeris centered on the moon, like if it was made by hypothetical lunar scholars who would think the Moon was fixed at the center of the universe and everything else revolved around it.
Claire served green tea to Églantine. “So, yeah, I am one of the intermediary that provide Tony S. with spare parts he cannot machine himself”
Églantine was flustered by how that tall, handsome woman looked through her excuse instantly.
“… ah, euh, I I I eh”
“I mean, I know what I do in life, and the odds of a Lyonnaise randomly tasking herself to write about a Napoleon courtisan so obscure there’s not even a street named after him in his birth city seemed rather low.”
“I actually don’t have a family link with that person, albeit I did quite a bit of research on him, for pretty much the reason you stated earlier. My job is, ahem, a facilitator of transaction between groups that are wary. I have a reputation of discretion and straightforwardness”
Me too. I am straight as an arrow, I am straight as an arrow, I am straightforward and ask the question I am here for thought Églantine
“So I hope you’ll understand I can’t tell you who make thoses parts or how we came into contact. That would be harmful to my job, and very possibly to my livelihood”
Claire smirked
”.. albeit that last part I am not too worried about. But finding another job in that economy I truly dread.”
Églantine took her notebook from her bag.
“But can you talk about the behind the scene stuff ? I obviously will not name my sources, but there’s a lot of people interested by how theses peoples, and Tony S. in particular are able to do all of that, apparently without a crew or company behind them. Well, Tony S. have his industry behind him, obviously, but no one have found much support outside of buying spare parts - and not all of them, which is what brought me here”
Claire had a bemused smile.
“None of theses actually are alone in their endeavor. Life is not a comics, turn out they need people to help them. The biggest need is actually ground information and wetwork ; they need to actually find where problems brews, who is and isn’t involved, that kind of things.”
“It’s how I encountered Frank C., way before he got off the deep end. He is well connected with the CIA and at that time, so was I. Via him I encountered a bunch of peoples, including Tony S.. They don’t pay as well for information brokering than the CIA, but they also are less controlling, and don’t backstab their connections nearly as much.”
“Plus, obviously, it’s not a great idea to work with the CIA theses days. The DGSE even said in no uncertain term there would be consequence if I did so. Funnily I had already stopped two year before that, but my handler made fake reports with my name, then the practice of putting my name on unreliable or unmentionable sources caught on, especially after the Steele name got discredited. That was an entire things, with me simultaneously having to convince the DGSE I was not involved with any of that and having to write increasingly strongly worded to the CIA to make them stop.”
“How did it end up ?”
“I paid someone to put the most strongly worded possible letter behind the pillow of the CIA director with a bullet. That CIA director was pretty dense, but did take the hint.”
“You… would have killed him for that ?”
“Of course no. I am not a hired killer for the spy world, and actually I don’t even know anyone who would kill, even less so to kill the freakin’ director of the CIA. But I do know someone very skilled in breaking and entering. She’s rich and quite a bit excentric, so I could sell her the idea that it would be a fun challenge.”
“And so, you’re also selling stuff to Frank in addition to Tony S. ?”
“I used to. I cut every ties when I learned about his antic, which was around six months before he got into that incident.”
“And did you … ?”
“No, once again I am not a hired killer. I don’t believe in mob justice, and …”
The interview continued for quite a while
“So, many thanks for the interview. You hinted earlier at a Mosellan industrial I could maybe talk to, can you confirm the contact information ?”
“Of course, of course.” Claire wrote down an adress, two names, and a signed recommendation on Églantine’s notebook.
“Can you give me a contact adress so I could send you the article about today for correction ?”
Claire pouted a bit, then wrote an email adresse. It’s not her phone number, but it’s good enough… especially considering I am, once again, straight though Églantine while crossing the bridge to the gare.
The doll on the shelf stood up and jumped on the table, in front of Claire. Her movements were fluid and organic ; in motion she really looked more like a tiny human than an animated doll.
“I love how, despite all your talks about “operational security” and “untraceable transaction”, you still got found by a random journalist with too much time on her hand.”
“Four Events Before Greatness, she didn’t find anything really problematic … yet.” answered Claire. “And honestly I am pretty confident this will not be much of a problem”
“I suppose you intent to get rid of her”, the doll responded “I bet on you already having poisoned her tea, or arranged for a train accident or something”
“Oh, nothing of the sort. But you do raise a good point, I need to keep an eye on her”
“To find the best moment to off her ?” say the doll, with a decapitation gesture.
“Careful to not cut yourself on all that edge.” Claire sighted. “It’s the opposite actually, I need someone to make sure she don’t get into trouble and die or disappear”
The doll looked curiously.
“You see, if anything suspicious happen, her friend will look into it. This will spread uncontrolably, and I have better things to do than handle a bunch of conspiracy theorists trying to get in there”
The curious expression morphed into suspicion in her surprisingly flexible doll face.
“And the person that will have the privilege of making sure she don’t get into trouble is you”
“… Claire …”
“I am not joking. I did notice how much mischief you are up to, including you going out to see the city, and was actually seeking to find an outlet to your restlessness. And now serendipity gave me an unfortunately skilled investigator who will now go find problem destiny know where.”
“…” the doll was pouting now.
“If you absolutely insist, I could give that to some of your sisters that aren’t going through a teenager phase, like Seven Omens or Two roads To The Destination. You may or may not hear the end of it by 2030.”
“… I guess. But isn’t, like, being a 30cm tall mini human a bit of a problem in term of staying inconspicuous ?”
“I let you deal with that at your discretion. Worse case we’ll be at one failure each.”
“Can I at least get some gadget like an invisibility cloak ? Or theses sleeping dart guns from Jurassic Park ? Or at least some kind of laser wristwatch to get out of jam.”
“I guess a cellphone, a credit card and a train pass should do the trick. Don’t spend everything at a single place. Also don’t take James Bond for a documentary.”
The (metaphorical) blood drained out of the doll face.
“Okay, okay. I will also give you a flying pack.” Claire added. “I am aware of how slow your bodies are even at full run.”
Four Events Before Greatness was torn. On one hand, theses flying packs are both fun and very practical ; her little stride barely let her go at one third of the speed of a human adult while the wings let her go vrooom, plus the vertical mobility and ability to annoy crows is great. On the other hand, that’s perhaps the less stealthy way to move in a city she can imagine.
“Do you take the offer, Four ?” asked Claire. “If so, you need to go out before she go too far. She got on the wrong direction train, so she should be again at Cerny gare in twenty minutes. I suggest you get into that train.”
“The train to Paris will enter the gare in a few moments”
Four was shocked at how no one even noticed that in the shuffle, one of the commuter was a 30cm tall figure that had to jump to validate her pass. Having to keep her cards and phone in a full sized backpack was annoying, and the phone was pretty much a tablet for her. But it was very liberating to be in public and absolutely nobody batting an eyelid ; the world may not provide anything for her, but at least the world did not lash at her either.