“In conclusion, when dealing with entities that have more than one state of existence, it is imperative to assume that the other states of that entity are working for their own goals. These goals may appear to be counter to the face of the entity that you see, and may even appear hostile or malevolent to you. However, the very fact you are attending this conference means that you are aware of your own multiplicity, and that the you that appears in meatspace may be ignorant at best, or counter as norm, to your intentions here. Always check what you are doing and for which entity’s state. Always remember there is more than one truth to be had, and these are all valid in the circumstances you found them, even when they disagree. Always remember that you are more than you remember.”
“We are all both predator and prey. However, we have the ability to choose which to be, and when. Choose well. Thank you for attending.”
I stepped away from the lectern to surprising applause. As the announcer reminded the audience what nom-de-plume I was using, I understood why. Only a few saw Weaver. The rest saw [someone else], that I was, and yet I wasn’t. I smiled politely before ducking offstage. An attendant was waiting for me.
“Now that you are out of sight, you have maybe five minutes before they apply your words to the memory of your appearance and see through the facade.” The attendant draped a thin cloak over me. Not to keep me warm, but to add a different layer of glamour over my appearance. “I suggest you use those minutes to get the hell out of here.”
“Wise words. Tell me again why I accepted the speaking opportunity? If they knew who I was beforehand, I’d have been drawn and quartered the moment I stepped on the stage.”
“Because you can’t turn down a damn good challenge, and [static] asked you to.”
“I’ll extract my fee from kir ass later, with penalties depending on how much of my ass is removed.” My business heels shifted into my explorer boots. “Someone’s figured it out quicker than I thought. Can we ‘port out of here?”
“The longer it takes them to figure it out, the more the words stick. If you ‘port, you’ll give it all away.” We exited the conference hall via a back door. A diplomat’s black sedan was waiting silently and darkly. As I stumbled into the alley, its engine turned over. The windows’ tint faded to reveal there was no driver inside. The attendant pulled me behind him. He was clearly not expecting this.
I purred to see it. “Aww, baibee, did you come to rescue me?” The car’s engine slightly revved and I heard the doors unlock. I knew this car. It is the Envoy’s gift. A flying sedan imprinted to me the moment I accepted it. Self-driving, it will allow no one else to command it unless I have allowed it. I have never allowed it.
“Ma’am, I did not call that car here. Our means of departure is down the alley. I suggest we move with quickness.” The attendant tried to push me in the direction he gestured. I moved as much as a mountain would.
“See, here’s the thing. I work solo, unless under the aegis of a client. And [static] knows this. So if I had a personal attendant assigned by [static], that attendant would have something I would recognize as [static]’s mark. You haven’t a damn thing. Even the cloak you threw over me bears something else’s scent. After the lecture I just gave, do you really think I would not question you even once?”
As I removed the cloak, I changed my appearance again. The attendant was surprised to see this new thing standing in front of him. I handed him the cloak. “Do thank your master for allowing me to borrow his covering. Those in the wings of the stage will remember you. But not me.” I grinned. “Your means of departure is down the alley. I suggest you move with quickness, as they’ll be looking for you.”
I hobbled my dirty and ragged self over to the jury-rigged scooter that the sedan had changed appearance into. “Get going now. The wolves are coming.” Clattering down the alley, I took a broken staff and poked at a few trashbags as the back door slammed open against the building.
“There he is! He helped her! Get him!” “Hey, is that her?” “What?” “That… hobo fuck?” I felt their stares upon my back. A bag ripped open at my prodding. Leaning over from the seat, I muttered profanities at the lack of valuables as I threw the trash around. “Nope. Just some scavenger again. We gotta stop leaving the trash bags accessible.” Footsteps faded as those inspecting my new appearance ran down the alley to join the hunt with the others.
Once out of sight of the rear of the conference hall, the poorly welded scooter became my sleek black sedan again. Weaver Ravencloaked sat in the driver’s seat, chuckling. “Let’s go home, baibee.” And we did.