Charlie's mouth twitched at the mention of coffee, but Crow let it pass, hardly having the moral upper ground to go on an offensive about respecting authority. Charlie glanced at his clipboard and hit a couple of keys. "You have a three o'clock with O'Malley again, sir."
Crow walked for the door and shrugged on his battered old leather jacket. "Make an excuse." The elevator doors dinged shut to cut off Charlie's protests about this being the third incarnation of this particular meeting that Crow was putting off. Crow stared at the clicking numbers counting down from twenty, every flash of descent lighting off knives behind his eyeballs.
"O'Malley can shove it up his ass." Crow muttered. A junior programmer getting on the elevator flushed at the corporation's senior roboticist blaspheming one of the founding partners. "Well he can." Crow insisted as the kid - no more than twenty at the outside - stared pointedly at her shoes.
"Ten years ago, this company didn't even build robots, or software. Hell, all they did was resell old 380s with memory wipes to restaurants to do all the low level cooking. Bright idea, only one those two old shits ever had." Crow explained. He wondered if he was still drunk from last night. Usually he didn't find himself insulting his superiors unless blessed alcohol still danced in his veins.
"From scratch, I tell you." Crow mumbled. "I came in as a post-doc and built everything this company does, business model included. Do you think I'm lying?"
"Ah, no sir." The programmer said, with more than a hint of humor.
"And I'm not drunk either."
"That's obvious."
"Is it?" Crow asked. He sure thought that he sounded drunk.
"Yes." The programmer said. "I've seen you drunk, and you make sense then."
Crow laughed. "You've got balls kid, you know that?"
"Yes sir, Dr. Daedalus."
"Call me Crow. What's your name?" Crow asked. "Forgive me if it's not the first time I've asked."
"Rebecca Calvin." She said. "And no, it's not the first time." Crow's memory spiked as if he was looking at her for the first time. Or rather the second time. He thought.
An eyebrow raised on her alabaster forehead, red line arcing towards the scarlet wilderness of her scalp. "Sound familiar?"
"Have you ever been to the District Attorney's office?" Crow asked, the tumblers of memory striking home on her eyes, the most memorable part of her face. He had not recognized her at all in the corporate drone uniform. A long step from black leather.
"Not according to security footage." Rebecca said. "And eyewitness memory is next to useless in the real world, despite the assertions of television dramas."
Crow eyed her with an odd mixture of curiosity and humor. "And should I take a meeting such as this as coincidence?"
"Everything is a coincidence." Rebecca said. "Though some may occur under more controlled conditions than others." She smiled at him and offered a hand to shake.
Crow took her hand and shook it, warm flesh a marvel in his palm. "I'm going down to the Hole for some coffee, would you care to come along?" Crow asked.
She smiled at him and for the first time, Crow really noticed that she had just about the sharpest blue eyes he had ever seen. They screamed contrast with her tight-cropped red hair and freckled pale skin. "Normally I don't drink coffee before six, but I could make an exception for the Director of Research."
"Oh, I'd prefer you made the exception for me, the Director is a dreary sort of individual."
Crow walked for the door and shrugged on his battered old leather jacket. "Make an excuse." The elevator doors dinged shut to cut off Charlie's protests about this being the third incarnation of this particular meeting that Crow was putting off. Crow stared at the clicking numbers counting down from twenty, every flash of descent lighting off knives behind his eyeballs.
"O'Malley can shove it up his ass." Crow muttered. A junior programmer getting on the elevator flushed at the corporation's senior roboticist blaspheming one of the founding partners. "Well he can." Crow insisted as the kid - no more than twenty at the outside - stared pointedly at her shoes.
"Ten years ago, this company didn't even build robots, or software. Hell, all they did was resell old 380s with memory wipes to restaurants to do all the low level cooking. Bright idea, only one those two old shits ever had." Crow explained. He wondered if he was still drunk from last night. Usually he didn't find himself insulting his superiors unless blessed alcohol still danced in his veins.
"From scratch, I tell you." Crow mumbled. "I came in as a post-doc and built everything this company does, business model included. Do you think I'm lying?"
"Ah, no sir." The programmer said, with more than a hint of humor.
"And I'm not drunk either."
"That's obvious."
"Is it?" Crow asked. He sure thought that he sounded drunk.
"Yes." The programmer said. "I've seen you drunk, and you make sense then."
Crow laughed. "You've got balls kid, you know that?"
"Yes sir, Dr. Daedalus."
"Call me Crow. What's your name?" Crow asked. "Forgive me if it's not the first time I've asked."
"Rebecca Calvin." She said. "And no, it's not the first time." Crow's memory spiked as if he was looking at her for the first time. Or rather the second time. He thought.
An eyebrow raised on her alabaster forehead, red line arcing towards the scarlet wilderness of her scalp. "Sound familiar?"
"Have you ever been to the District Attorney's office?" Crow asked, the tumblers of memory striking home on her eyes, the most memorable part of her face. He had not recognized her at all in the corporate drone uniform. A long step from black leather.
"Not according to security footage." Rebecca said. "And eyewitness memory is next to useless in the real world, despite the assertions of television dramas."
Crow eyed her with an odd mixture of curiosity and humor. "And should I take a meeting such as this as coincidence?"
"Everything is a coincidence." Rebecca said. "Though some may occur under more controlled conditions than others." She smiled at him and offered a hand to shake.
Crow took her hand and shook it, warm flesh a marvel in his palm. "I'm going down to the Hole for some coffee, would you care to come along?" Crow asked.
She smiled at him and for the first time, Crow really noticed that she had just about the sharpest blue eyes he had ever seen. They screamed contrast with her tight-cropped red hair and freckled pale skin. "Normally I don't drink coffee before six, but I could make an exception for the Director of Research."
"Oh, I'd prefer you made the exception for me, the Director is a dreary sort of individual."
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