— Ergis ?
I tried to keep my voice steady.
— Are you done at work ? I’m finished.
I walked through the pedestrian crossing and headed to the ligne 6.
— Déjà ? Non, désolé j’essaie de m’organiser pour ne pas me faire virer à mon retour des états-unis. Tu peux t’avancer vers le commissariat ?
— Je préfère rentrer. Je vais prendre le RER A.
— Prends plutôt un taxi.
— … ok.
Je raccrochai avant qu’il ne lui prenne l’envie de me demander comment ça s’était passé, et traversai à nouveau, vers une zone où j’avais une chance d’attraper un taxi.
May I have your address please ?
Are you ok ?
738 Chemin des Préaux
I am taking a cab
A cette heure animée il passa plusieurs taxis, occupés ou non, le temps je tape l’adresse sur google pour vérifier le code postal.
What happened ?
Je fis signe à une voiture au lumignon vert, montai sur la banquette arrière, et donnai l’adresse à un homme à l’accent indien qui tenta de discuter un peu avant de comprendre que c’était peine perdue.
— Désolée, fis-je au bout d’un moment et je n’allai pas plus loin parce que ma voix tremblait.
— On a tous des mauvais jours, m’dame, fit le conducteur en haussant les épaules. Pleurez un bon coup, ça vous fera du bien.
Je n’eus pas besoin qu’on me le dise deux fois. Et bizarrement, je me sentis - vraiment - un peu mieux après. Ou au moins, un peu moins mal.
Bene ne m’avait pas jeté son coca à la figure. Elle m’avait écouté, elle m’avait crue. Et elle n’avait pas appelé la police. Objectivement je ne pouvais pas dire que ça s’était mal passé.
Et je ne pouvais pas lui en vouloir d’avoir besoin de temps pour réfléchir. J’en aurai bien eu besoin, moi aussi.
Victoire ?
Je me sentis coupable de laisser Aldan s’inquiéter et rouvris mon téléphone.
She believed me
And I don’t think she will tell anyone
But she might not want to talk to me anymore
I’m sorry
Je me laissai conduire en silence. Je devais faire confiance à Bénédicte. Elle avait dit qu’elle me recontacterait. Et si elle ne le faisait pas, je devrai respecter son choix.
Need a drink ?
I woke up to Sushi’s familiar headbump with a serious headache, and climbed out of bed, hoping to find paracetamol somewhere. The last vodka shot was definitely the one too many.
It was barely seven.
I would usually try to figure out if I’d ended the evening speaking English or French, as my French started disappearing before I would start saying nonsense, but I had already been speaking English with Aldan at the beginning so I was left with no measure point.
Nurse-me suddenly freaked out about him drinking alcool with me despite all his medicine, but after a careful review of my memories I realized that he’d stuck to coke.
I checked if I was looking decent enough to go on my treasure hunt and let Sushi out.
— Don’t you go hunt the octopus. I told him. I’m not sure you’d win.
I opened literally every drawer in the bathroom feeling really bad about going through Aldan’s things - or Ergis’s for all I knew, but found no self-medication box. I paused to think of where to look next and decided for kitchen-laundry-basement.
I was once again caught in the kitchen by Ayatas who was carrying ironed clothes.
— Puis-je vous aider ?
— Je cherche du paracétamol. I said, gesturing to the vodka bottle next to the trash can.
— Je vous ramène ça.
I went to see Bobby, partly to check that I wouldn’t find Sushi on a prowl on top of the tank. The octopus wasn’t moving, but slowly started to when I got close. The tank lights were dim, but the reflections on the glass increased my headache.
— Sorry, I still can’t communicate with you yet.
I turned away from the light in the tank with relief, and received a splash of water. I turned around again. Bobby was half-out of the tank, and I felt like he was expecting something from me. I closed my eyes and breathed slowly out. This was getting easier and easier.
But now human-telepath has learnt how to listen to eightarms.
— H- Hello, Bobby. I said awkwardly.
Eightarms wishes a good day to human-telepath.
I stand there a moment, trying to process that I was actually hearing an octopus.
— Are you always speaking English ?
Eightarms has no language. Eightarms communicates pure thoughts. Human-telepath hears English because human-telepath thinks English.
I opened and closed my mouth a few times. I was seriously désarçonnée. An octopus was speaking to me. In my mind. Calling itself eightarms. Understanding languages and apparently not being restricted by them.
Then I rushed back upstairs looking for Sushi.
— So. Tell me. What’s really going on in your head ?
I looked at Sushi’s big yellow eyes as his ears turned towards me. I focused to make sure I’d hear if he tried to answer, but I heard nothing.
Disappointed, I stand up, and realized that I smelled like I could use a shower, and needed to pee. It’s only when I left the toilets frustrated at myself for needing the toilets for almost nothing that I remembered Ergis saying cats could only share impressions and feelings.
I giggled alone in the corridor.
J’ai laissé la boite de paracetamol sur le comptoir de la cuisine.
Damn. I had almost forgotten about the hangover. I ran down the stairs again to thank Ayatas, but he was not in sight anymore.
I poured myself a glass of water and gulped a pill down.
— Matinale ?
Meh. Ergis. Wow, I guessed it right, goes for a run every morning before going to the office.
— J’avais soif. I said.
He very obviously looked at the vodka bottle. I swore to become the worst anti-cigarette nazi if he was to say something snarky about it.
— J’ai pris mon billet d’avion. Je pars demain à 11h25. Je reviens dans dix jours.
— O- Ok. Le ESTA c’est bon ?
He nodded.
I was expecting him to turn around and resume his standard morning routine - likely with a shower, but instead he looked at his feet for a while, then adjusted his watch.
— Fais gaffe à Aldan pour moi. Tu es infirmière. Quand il a vraiment mal il… il lui vient des idées stupides.
Then he resumed his standard morning routine, grabbed a clean towel on a neatly folder pile Ayatas had left on a chair, and left me in utter confusion. Was he secretly actually thoughtful, even if just towards Aldan ? Did he have some sort of keeper-of-the-sick sworn duty ?
I put the kettle on, sat on a high chair and tried to search google for anything about the Disease, or any sort of telepath society specifics, but I only found institutional websites, superficial press info, and useless statistics.
I frowned. Aldan said they’d googled things. And he showed me a telepath pre-school. I typed the name of my L.A. school, but next to it I only found a nameless building. Did they have a specific Internet or what ?
I poured myself tea, and picked a strong-looking English breakfast brand. I went to the entrance door, spotted the fibre cable, and followed it to a large office room with a meeting table large enough for six or eight, and a visioconference setup.
I found the router and the wifi password on a post-it next to it, and typed it in my phone. Then I went back to grab my tea, and sat on the sofa.
There was the pre-school.
I entered the shower maybe not relieved, but sort of enlightened.
And at least I was now able to google my telepaths encounters as they would me. And despite my préjugés, I had found nothing about Ergis being a serial killer. Instead he seemed to have a pretty good reputation as a cop. And he did have - sired - two « small ones ».
I found more google results for Aldan that if I had been searching for Nicola Sirkis. Both his parents were dead from the Disease, a few of years ago. He was giving lectures for several worldwide universities. And he’s signed a telepath law proposal - never actually voted - to create a joint human and telepath research institute to find a solution to the extinction.
I did a little victory dance at the 13th minute of hot water before finally drying myself, got dressed and went back down to make breakfast.
— Morning ! Said Aldan, rolling into the kitchen to fix himself a cup of tea.
I wished him good morning too, but quickly focused on my pan. Half of me was ashamed I’d looked him up online, and the other half was listing the million of questions I wanted to ask him.
— Bobby said you discussed with him ?
— Ah euh, yes. He communicated. I just talked back. I was surprised to hear it in English. Is eightarms his name ?
— No. All octopi refer to themselves as eightarms.
— I tried with Sushi but he didn’t communicate anything clearly.
— Cats are mostly non-verbal.
— How do crows communicate then ? I asked, curious.
He tilted his head and I realized that with his accent I’d be in for the laugh of the year.
— I found shiny object. Human gets things in exchange for shiny object. I give human shiny object, human gives me seeds.
I had to abandon him with his hands holding his ribs and walk out of the kitchen to calm myself before laughed myself into asphyxia.
When I came back Aldan was emptying my pan in a plate, and I felt glad that he couldn’t look at me without laughing again because it was already taking me all I had not to replay the imitation in my head.
He took weird-looking sausage toasts from the fridge and we finished breakfast on the main table.
— Ok, he said. Leave the plates on the counter please, Ayatas will take care of them. Let’s go to the living room.
I did as asked and followed him to the next room where we sat.
— You can’t target anyone whom you have never met. So for now you can only communicate with Ergis, Ayatas, and me.
He reached for his knitting bag again, and now that surprise wasn’t inhibiting my thinking, I realized that he likely was the unfinished art artist who’d tried his hands at all sorts of techniques.
— What about the genotyper from the police station ?
— What color were his eyes ?
— Eh ? I’m not sure…
— Then you can’t. The eye trick is a good way to guess if you’d be able to communicate with someone you met once.
— How does it work ?
He shrugged.
— There are several scientific hypotheses. We don’t have enough researchers anymore, and the remaining labs are mostly focused on the Disease, so there hasn’t been new data on targeting for years now.
— What’s the most powerful thing you can do? Something not many other telepaths can ?
He looked up from his knitting and clumsily shifted his weight to release a foot.
— That’s not today’s lecture. And I can give you a book about telepathy capacities.
— Please, I am curious. I promise I’ll focus on the lesson after.
— I could force you to jump in front of a running train. Build you false memories or make you forget about your brother…
I gasped.
— You asked. But I could also help you learn Russian, or nuclear physics. Get you out of unhealthy habits. Or get into your dreams.
I couldn’t help but side-glance at him. That sounded weird. And from his renewed interest for his sock, I was sure he also realized it while saying it.
— So, I said, clapping my hands on my knees. How do I target then ?
— In principle it is easy. You put yourself in the state of mind where you listen, you picture yourself the person you want to communicate with, and pretend you are talking to him.
— And in reality ?
— I doubt you’ll manage today. It’s not a question of polymorphism. It’s like macaroons, you have to try until you get the coup-de-main.
I bit my lip at the comparison. Something was telling me he’d actually tried baking macaroons.
Ayatas ?
— Nope. I still hear you. Said Aldan.
Damn.
I breathed out. He’d managed to start the second sock of the pair while I was trying to get the hang of targeting.
— Wait. He said, reaching for his buzzing phone.
I watched him half-answer half-communicate. And frown.
— Je te mets sur haut-parleur. Victoire t’entends.
— Ok. Mon collègue allemand m’a rappelé. Martha Vogel n’existe pas. Plus. Il était curieux, il est passé voir si elle habitait toujours à l’adresse qui figure dans les fichiers administratifs. Elle n’y était pas, donc il a regardé où elle avait déclarer habiter avant, rien non plus. Elle perçoit sa retraite sur un compte en Suisse. Pas de voiture déclarée, pas d’activité sur les réseaux sociaux, pas d’amis, pas de famille. Martha Vogel est bien née en Allemagne, bien partie faire ses études aux US en 1969, mais elle n’est jamais rentrée.
— Bon… said Aldan. On a bien fait de ne pas compter sur elle…
— Ton collègue il ne va pas de vouloir creuser ?
— Si. Je lui ai dit qu’on était sur un dossier sensible et que je préférerais qu’il attende un peu avant de faire ouvrir l’enquête. Mais ça ne tiendra pas longtemps.
Nous restâmes silencieux. J’entendais le bourdonnement de la voiture d’Ergis dans le téléphone.
— Bon. Je vous laisse j’arrive au bureau.
Il raccrocha et je repris mes tentatives de communiquer avec Ayatas, sans beaucoup plus de succès que précédemment.
— Let us stop for today. I do not want all the neighboring families coming to see what is going on. We will try again tomorrow. I will give you a book.
He climbed onto his wheelchair and led me out of the living and into the office. I felt compelled to plead guilty of logging into his wifi network.
— I know. He said. When someone new logs in I get a notification.
I knead my hands waiting for an admonition, but he kept pulling out books out of a small shelf stuck in a corner.
— You are my guest. You can use my network… ah, there. I knew I had kept it.
I took a very worn out kid’s book from his hands. I was about to indulge a snarky comment, but something on his face stopped me.
— Please pay attention to it. It was mine.
His ? I looked at the book again. I was holding a telepath schoolbook.
— I- I will, I managed to say.
He pulled his chair in a small fidgety-looking back and forth, then declared we should have dinner.