73. Sherlock bellows down the stairs

“Ooooo! Who’s being ableist now,” Jesse said.

“It’s not a contest,” Anh said.

“Yes, it totally is,” Colin said, staring after the boho woman with resentment.

“When you’ve always been on top, equality feels like a raw deal,” Jesse said.

“Can we have a proper meeting, when you guys have finished with whatever this bizarre verbal death match is?” Anh said.

“I thought it was a demonstration of reproductive fitness,” Jesse said. He stuck out his tongue and flexed his left arm. His tongue did not reach his arm.

Avtar said, frowning at Jesse, “Winnie’s expecting our first child, so I win.”

Anh asked, with exaggerated disbelief, “You’re married?”

“Yes.”

“She must be hella brave,” Anh said, thinking of Avtar’s association with George.

“Marrying a Guyanese guy? I guess,” Avtar said, cheerfully taking it the wrong way. Anh pointed a finger at him and made a face.

“Wait a minute,” Colin said. “I remember George saying something about Avtar also being part of an interracial couple – he was joking about him and Kima.”

“So you married a white girl,” Anh said.

“Second-gen Taiwanese, eckshully,” Avtar said. “Her parents hate me, of course.”

“Because you have a tan?” Colin said. It was not how Jesse would have followed up, and he felt sorry for Colin.

“Because I’m not Christian,” Avtar said, straight-faced.

His dining companions burst out laughing.

“This too is our Vancouver,” Colin said, recovering.

The boho woman pulled up a chair and said, “I know it’s none of my business, but I’m asking anyway. What are you guys – coworkers?”

“We’re a LARP team,” Avtar said. As the oldest among them, and the most experienced, he produced the lie with easy confidence.

“Really?”

“Yup, ‘Aliens take over Vancouver’,” Anh said.

“It’s called, Run Sixer Run,” Colin said. He had recently re-watched Run Lola Run.

“No it isn’t, it’s called ‘Last Stand on Granville Island!’” Jesse said.

“I wanted to call it, “We are so fucked,” Avtar said, “But Run Sixer Run works.”

“It seems like it! Well, have fun guys,” she said, and went back to her table.

“You bastards,” Avtar said.

“What?” Jesse and Colin said.

“Now I have to go home and build a website.”

“Like Google Calendar for Sixer lovers,” Anh said. “With snacks.”

“Next you’ll be wanting the Minecraft mod,” Avtar said, gloomy.

“I’ve always found more to enjoy in lifting weights and consensual sex,” Jesse said.

They all looked at each other.

“Hide in plain sight,” Colin said.

“With snacks,” Anh said.  “Without snacks, it’s just trolls.”

Jesse found himself smiling. “You know what’s going to be really fun about this, if we pretend it’s a game?”

“What?”

“Laying the city out on a grid and looking at it.  I mean, really looking at it. If we’re trying to prevent our city from burning down, then we need to look at every inch of it and assess it for threats.”

“Most of the work’s been done,” Avtar said.

“Really? You know how to lay hands on it?” Colin asked.

“No,” Avtar said. “In the game, that’s not my area of specialty.”

“Ri-i-ght,” Colin said.

“And we don’t mention details in public,” Jesse said. “You know, I think you’re the biggest security risk in the Sixer cabal.” He was looking at Colin.

“But we’re allowed to say Sixer,” Colin said, frowning.

“We’re normalizing it.  You normalize ideas (in other words, bring uncommon ideas into commonality) by normalizing them (in other words you speak, purchase, make, do, practice, worship, enact ideas.) I know that sounds recursive, but that’s how advertising works,” Anh said.

The men sat with that for a moment.

“You guys are unbelievable,” Anh said.

“How so?” Colin said.

“You were actually thinking about what I just said.”

“You included worship,” Jesse said.

“Yeah, I tripped on that one too,” Avtar said, splaying his hands and nodding in agreement at Jesse.

Colin said, snottily, “I thought it was a little over the top, myself. Do we have to descend into fourth year discussions of bad philosophy?”

“Says the man who went to trade school,” Jesse said under his breath.

“Oh, so now you’re ganging up on the PR person again, in the fight that has gone on since the dawn of marketing.” Anh was signalling the server.

“But we don’t want to normalize the fact that we’ve all done illegal shit to play the game,” Jesse said, dragging the conversation back to the subject. “What are the rules of this game?” His dining companions spoke all at once

“The Sixers are neutral good,” Colin said.

“Kima is the smartest,” Avtar said.

“We can’t talk about the First Nations. Nothing about them without them,” Jesse said.  He added, “If they want to write their own module and keep me out of it, fine,” Jesse said. “Or invite me in with a password, I don’t mind either way.

Anh said, “Three more shots and a Shirley Temple,” to the server.

“So we can talk about fight club but we can’t talk about one of the groups that comes to fight club,” Colin said.

“We make all the secrecy about the First Nations part. All the alien stuff is pretty much lying around, in layers of course,” Avtar said.  “Colin,” he asked in a wheedling voice.

“What?”

“Can you host the game server?”

Colin said, “Er. You know I’m living with my grandparents, and my grandmother is a couple of weeks away from dying at home?”

“Omigod, I’m so sorry,” Anh said.

Colin was solemn. “It’s been a privilege. ‘I want sympathy from no-one for a pain I would not trade for anything.’”

“What’s that? it’s —,” Jesse said. He suddenly thought of Lark.

“It’s something my grandmother said before she stopped being able to talk; I think it was Catalonian poetry, but who knows, and I can’t ask her now.”

“I bet you really needed a break from that.”

“She’s got a caregiver, I’m mostly hanging ‘round with grandad, and he’s mostly okay,” Colin said heavily. “I miss laughing.  There’s not much happening at the house these days.”

“My family’s expecting, Jesse found a body and got beat half to death, Colin’s grandma’s dying… what’s your big dark secret,” Avtar said. His voice was richly encouraging.

“I judge men on how fast they comment on my height,” Anh said, “and assume that I’m Chinese, and assume I can’t speak proper English, and make jokes about massage parlours.”

“I thought we managed to avoid all that,” Avtar said in horror.

“Yeah,” Anh said.  “There’s a bunch of other stuff on my list, and you managed to avoid all that, too.”

“Not quite, Avtar said crazy,” Jesse said. “And so did you!”

“So it is a contest,” Anh said.  “Am I the only person around here who wants this to be a co-operative venture?” She mimed cocking a handgun, and Colin lost his heart.

“When you’re trying to be a better person,” Colin said, stepping up and swinging for the light standards, “It’s always a contest, and you’re almost always losing. And we were talking about a game. So the game is Save Vancouver From Burning Down When Aliens Come Out. The Side Quest is Can We All Be Better People.”

“You first, privileged white guy,” Anh said.

“I am not the token white guy,” Colin said, but this time you could see the tremor in his lip from trying not to laugh, and he was looking right into Anh’s eyes when she started to giggle. Jesse leaned right into Avtar’s ear and whispered, “Warning, crush in progress.”

72. Tequila Nangrybird

The humans left to go drinking. And eating. There had to be some eating in there too.

George thanked Kima and Michel for coming. Neither of them responded; thanks weren’t required. He and Michel assisted Kima out to the taxi-van. Michel carried her, and George made all three of them invisible.

Jas, their driver, a turbaned Sikh with a narrow, kindly face, greeted them. George liked Jas because his first reaction to finding out that George was an alien was to consider what his religion demanded of him, which was brotherhood and assistance to the stranger. On occasion Jas was troubled that food never formed part of that friendship and assistance, and from a scientific viewpoint it didn’t make sense to him that George never ate. Learning that every other Sixer did eat, like everything else alive, had been a relief, but it outlined how unusual George was; he was a bridge between two species, not subject to everyday rules.

Jas drove them to the boat, which idled up to the public boat ramp at Vanier Park. With obvious relief, Kima vanished and jumped into the water.  Michel waded after her. George followed, and brought the bucket, which Sparrow secured. Kima had told Sparrow it was very pleasant to hang onto a boat and get dragged around by it. Michel, who like most landmorphs preferred to be in the air, stayed on board to talk to Sparrow, whose practicality and humour he much enjoyed, although he found his reverence for Kima to be convulsingly funny, since it was pretty much how he and George felt about her too.

The humans didn’t know, because the Sixers didn’t tell them, that the three had been linked, in various combinations, for the entire meeting. Michel had sat out on the balcony to give Kima and George a turn. It was easy to link and speak at the same time; all the landmorphs did it habitually. They’d link to one person, as if that person was some kind of sentient security blanket, while conversing in a larger group. They didn’t talk about it, because it seemed as rude as pulling out one’s cell phone at the dinner table, although not as overt.

While Kima was getting her escort home, a haunt at the southern end of Saturna Island, Anh, Jesse and Avtar were scratching off the tequila menu at a Mexican restaurant in Kitsilano. Jesse had texted Colin the coordinates, and as he joined them, he was careful to sit as far from Anh as possible.

“Got me some catching up to do, I see,” Colin said as he strolled up, looking at half an hours’ worth of carnage at his associates’ table. There were shots on the table.  “God, I could so pig out on some carnitas, too.”

“I already ordered some,” Anh said, and snapped her finger. Their plates arrived. 

“Well done,” Colin said, and inspected them as they went by. Jesse had ordered a bean burrito, saying, “What? What? I live alone!” at Avtar’s raised eyebrow. Avtar went for the shredded chicken enchiladas. Anh had ordered double carnitas.

“Go ahead, have one,” Anh said, shoving it off her plate onto a napkin and handing it to Avtar, who handed it to Colin. “You’re lucky I feel like sharing, I literally haven’t eaten all day.”

“You should not go into a meeting with Sixers on an empty stomach,” Jesse said.

“You really shouldn’t,” Avtar said. “Kima, when she winds up, she’s the smartest person on this planet. You gotta have carbs on board when she’s in the room or you are at a big disadvantage.”

“George is much the same,” Jesse said.

“Kima is socially backward, compared to the boys,” Anh said.

All three men, their mouths arrested in various stages of chowing down, looked at her, and slowly started eating again.

“You guys are like a circus act. How long have you known each other?”

“Him and me?” Jesse said, pointing at Colin. “Two, three months.”

“Never met either of them before tonight,” Avtar said. “Are they crazy or is it us?” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

“Right,” Colin said. “The night of the murder.”

“What? They’ve murdered someone since they came to town?” Anh squeaked, blowing food out of her mouth. Colin snorted.

Jesse said, “No, no, I found a dead body.  Didn’t mean to upset you.”

It was Avtar’s turn to be horrified. “You found a dead body?”

“I’ve had an interesting year,” Jesse said, and decided to quit talking until his food was gone.

“You’re lucky,” Avtar said. “You work with Michel and George.”

“But not Kima,” Anh said.

Avtar said, “Yeah, for me it’s mostly Kima, and tiny bits of Michel and George. Is Michel as crazy and cartoon-like — and as menacing as that — all the time? I think ‘oh, he’d never hurt me’.  Then I wonder. And somehow —”

“Well, yeah,” Colin said. “That’s our lot. We’re sidekicks, and part of that is dealing with how wilful they are compared to humans.”

“We had the sidekick discussion — I thought we were fine,” Jesse said, offended.

“He gave you food poisoning,” Colin said.

“Oh god,” Jesse said.

“Michel gave Jesse food poisoning?” Avtar asked.

“Can we not fucking talk about this right now? The food’s fantastic and you’re harshing my wallies.” Jesse said.

“I don’t have any problem being a sidekick,” Anh said. “Especially when the hero says ‘Go party on my tab!’”

“This isn’t partying. Ever seen George give a light show?” Colin said.

“A light show.”

“Oh yeah,” Colin said.

“You mentioned it about a hunnerd twenty-nine times,” Jesse said.

“He can make Laser Floyd look like a hand-painted stereoscopic image of Niagara Falls,” Colin said.

“Eat your food before it gets cold,” Anh said.

“I’ll order some more carnitas,” Colin said, “in part to repay my debt. But I think I’m gonna hold up on any more alcohol.”

“Why, man?” Jesse said. He saw no hypocrisy in saying, “I’ve never seen a man puke with such grace, it was revelatory.” He offered illustrative arm-waving and nearly poked Avtar with his fork.

“Hey!” Avtar muttered.

“I try to bring polish and precision into everything I do,” Colin said coldly.

“Tell that to your knob collection,” Avtar said, and Jesse, warmed by food and tequila, exploded with laughter.

“You know you guys look like a lifestyle ad,” a boho woman in her thirties said as she passed their table on the way to the restroom.

“I am not the token white guy,” Colin said, but quietly.

“You totally are, you dumbass. I’m the one who’s nobody’s stereotype,” Jesse said.

“You were right to ask,” Anh said to Avtar. The last of her carnita disappeared into her mouth, and she shoved it into her cheek so she could talk. “It’s definitely them that’s crazy.”