Chapter 87 (1/2)
Dan laid it all out. Where he'd come from, what he'd discovered, how Marcus had helped him and why. Over the course of half an hour, he had, with growing enthusiasm, laid out his recent life story to a stone-faced Anastasia Summers. And once his tale reached its conclusion in present time, she finally spoke.
”You really expect me to buy that pile of horse manure?”
Dan put his hand on Abby's leg before she could leap to his defense. With a wry grin, he admitted, ”In retrospect, not particularly.”
The stern matron shook her head in bewilderment as she turned her gaze to Abby. ”My dear, I've heard that love makes you blind, but I don't recall ever being quite this bad. Have you taken a complete leave of your senses?
”He's not lying,” Abby stated, with the kind of ironclad certainty that only rose-tinted goggles could provide.
”I'll admit that his story has a somewhat compelling sort of optimism to it,” Anastasia offered with a careless shrug. ”Exploring alternate Earths, empty or less developed than our own, would certainly be a more convenient method of acquiring resources than space travel.”
”That's...” Dan paused, considering the implications. ”That's definitely not where I was going with this.”
Anastasia hummed condescendingly.
This conversation was not going well. Dan understood that his story was unbelievable, but he'd never realized how difficult it would be to convince someone of it. He'd always been so focused on hiding the truth. Keeping it secret, keeping himself safe. He'd never, in all the time that he'd been in this dimension, seriously considered that a person might simply not believe him.
He was at a bit of a loss, really.
The elder Summers peered at him with a furrowed brow. ”That appears to be genuine confusion,” she observed. ”Are you actually surprised that I'm not just taking you at your word?”
Dan glanced at her. ”A little, yeah. You've got literal superpowers formed out of radiation, belief and cosmic fuckery. My situation doesn't seem all that odd, in comparison.”
”You're right,” Anastasia agreed. A pause, and she clarified, ”You are far too stupid for Marcus to be using you to interfere with me. That, at least, I can accept.” She raised a hand before Abby could raise a protest. ”The rest of your story, I will not be taking on faith alone. I require proof of your sincerity.”
”I could take a video camera into t-space with me, I guess,” Dan offered uncertainly.
Anastasia snorted incredulously. ”Have you seen modern CGI? You—”
”No,” Dan interrupted.
The older woman paused, taken aback, then frowned ferociously. Her words came out sharp and punctuated. ”Regardless, you'll need to do better than that.”
Dan shrugged. ”Marcus had some kinda scanner that could take readings from t-space. You got anything like that?” His mind lingered on the quarter-sized sensor that he carried on him at all times. It belonged to Marcus, and was one of the very few things he had left out of his story. Whatever their disagreements, the old man had earned that much forbearance. Dan wouldn't hand over his technology to a woman who was, at best, a belligerent rival.
”I still don't quite believe this place exists,” Anastasia replied with a mocking tilt of her head. ”Why in the world would I have a scanner for it?”
”Well then, I give up,” Dan announced, throwing both hands into the air and gazing skyward for help. He was still afraid of the woman in front of him, he'd have to be an idiot not to be, but he was also certain that she no longer intended to directly harm him. That, for Dan, was just enough to be called a win. She could think him a lunatic for all he cared, so long as the crazy old woman left him alone.
Speaking of crazy old women...
”What was that you mentioned about Matilda Fairbanks?” Dan questioned, his eyes dropping back down to Anastasia. He barely restrained a flinch as he met her eyes.
The matriarch's gaze pinned him in place as if he were a specimen on display. A butterfly, with needles through its wings, suspended in glass. Her voice was calculating and cold. ”You... give up?”
Dan glanced to Abby, drawing strength from the firm set of her jaw. ”Yeah. It's fine if you don't believe me. You've already admitted that I'm no threat to you or Abby, so we're good.”
”I think I'll be the judge of when we 'are good', Mister Newman,” Anastasia replied in the manner of a nun correcting an unruly student.
”Okay,” Dan said blandly. He met her eyes as best he could. ”But I've got nothing else to tell you. You've heard my story. It's up to you whether or not you believe it.”
”This is not how convincing people works,” Anastasia stated, massaging her brow with a sigh. She glanced briefly to Abby, whose hand had found Dan's at some point, and rubbed the bottom of her chin.
”Fine,” the matron decided. ”We'll have to”—Her nose crinkled as if she'd just tasted something unpleasant—”compromise. You want to hear about Matilda Fairbanks? I'll tell you, and then I have a task for you to perform.”
Dan blinked, slowly processing the fact that he'd just gotten a concession. He should buy a lottery ticket.
”Deal,” he quickly agreed before Anastasia could take back the offer.
”Mm.” The older woman leaned back in her seat, kicking a foot up cross-ways to rest on her opposite knee. ”It seems that Miss Fairbanks has an unusually keen interest in studying Mutates and Naturals. Specifically, research into how powers can change over time, Natural or otherwise. Not exactly an accessible topic.” She smiled languidly. ”And one frequently looked upon as... fantastical, by the masses. Inroads are hard to find. While this is hardly a problem for someone of means, with connections within the scientific community, Matilda Fairbanks is not such a person.”
”My professor,” Dan's brow crinkled, ”er, Officer Tawny told me that Matilda's sister had some sort of problem with her upgrade.”
Anastasia waved her hand dismissively. ”Not a problem; it worked exactly as advertised, her family was simply hoping for a miracle. They were certainly on the right track, just off by a few years. The upgrade hadn't yet been optimized. Bad luck for her, I suppose.”
Dan frowned at her frank tone. ”Still, I don't see how trying to help her sister is indicative of anything.”
”That's because I'm not done.” Anastasia reached into her pocket and pulled out a thin piece of metal. Less than a fingernail in width, and maybe ten centimeters across, it resembled nothing more than a piece of scrap. She held it horizontally, then flicked her hand. The device split at the center, unfurling into a shimmering blue screen held between two slivers of steel. The older Summers ran her finger along it in a quick pattern, then turned the screen towards Dan.
It was a picture of Matilda, standing across from a man Dan did not recognize. The two of them were huddled in a parking lot, shrouded by night, save for a single street lamp. Matilda was dressed in what might have been the clumsiest attempt at concealing clothing that Dan had ever seen, in the form of an outrageously over-sized black sweatshirt. The man was wearing, of all things, what appeared to be a lab coat. The grainy photograph was just detailed enough to make out an envelope being passed between the two of them.
”You wouldn't happen to recognize this fellow?” Anastasia queried. Her hand tapped the stranger's face, and the picture zoomed in. The quality dropped dramatically, but the man's defining features were clear. Pale skin, thin glasses, and an exaggerated case of bed-head. The man was wearing a grin that was positively maniacal, stretching all the way across his face.
Dan shook his head in denial. ”Hard to tell, but I think I'd remember someone like that.” He glanced to Abby, who seemed to share his confusion.
”His name is Andros Bartholomew,” Anastasia informed them both. She flicked her finger and the screen changed to a still photo of a demolished building. Something sparked in Dan's memory.