Chapter 17: I'm getting answers. Tonight.

"Next Step Genetics," Jenni confirms to us both, as I cut the last zip tie from her wrists. "They're who I was contracted by."

"Contracted for what, though?" Mirka presses, as we remain parked outside the veneer of dinginess that radiates off of Charger's.

She hesitates for a moment, but snaps out of it. "I signed an NDA, but fuck it. I didn't know they were working with Scions. They told me they were sending a researcher to check it out, not a hit squad."

"And you believed them?" Mirka accuses, eyes fixed and squinted.

"I guess. I don't talk to companies much, I didn't know they would do something like this." Jenni's hands keep busy, picking at a loose flake of faux leather on Mirka's car seat. "I got hired to do some scouting around the area for any magical beasts that were unusual. You know, ignore the dogmen, the lake monsters, and other common magical creatures. They're looking for something, I think, though I have no idea what. Otherwise, they'd have told me to go back to the woods... lots of weird shit out of there. You ever seen a deer with forward-facing eyes?"

Mirka takes a long sigh. "Anything else you can tell us about Next Step?"

"Yeah. They're kinda weird. Always refer to creatures of magic by the term 'steps'. Creepy stuff... I don't understand why they would work with Scions though. They have completely opposite goals as far as I can tell. Scions are genocidal, Next Step is clinical. Both bad for magical creatures, but in different ways."

With a shrug, I open the car door, and offer to let Jenni out. She raises an eyebrow, but starts to slide over to the door anyway. "This is a trap, isn't it?" she asks.

"I'm pretty sure if I wanted to trap you, I wouldn't have untied you. Let's just call it even for the sorta-kidnapping, okay?"

She looks at me for a long moment. "I have a question, first. What are you?"

"Last I checked? Kinda hungry. A little stressed. Mostly, impatient for you to leave. No offense, but you've already given us our next lead, and I don't have a reason to pretend not to be pissed anymore." I reach over to Mirka, who hands me the magic items she confiscated earlier. I stuff them into her hands. I don't plan to rob her, after all.

She takes them, but continues to look at me strangely. "I'm serious. You seem innately magical, you're not a sorcerer, and you're not-"

I impatiently pull her out of the car, get back in, and slam the door in her face. Last thing I'm going to do is let her interrogate me after she's already shown she's a narc.

Mirka seems reluctant to leave, but she drives off anyway. She keeps glancing at me from the front seat, as if she's burning to tell me something.

"Just say it, Mimi." I say, watching her face turns slightly pink. I was worried I had lost my 'make Mirka blush' technique.

"Nothing. Never mind. Just thinking about how cute you look right now..."

All of these secrets are starting to exhaust me. Shirai is hiding something, Jenni was hiding something, and now even Mirka is lying to my face. Again, I won't press her, despite my better judgement. I trust her enough that I can let her lie to me, as if that makes any sense.

My love for her is warping my mind. It's undeniable now. There's no other explanation for why I'd intentionally let someone lie to me like this...

There's a subtle gratitude in her smile. Still, I'm a vindictive creature. There will be no mercy. I will have my revenge...

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"Lena, please stop! STOP!" Mirka screams at me, tears streaming down her cheeks as she desperately tries to fight me off.

In my generosity, I relent, and stop tickling her and let her catch her breath in our bed. I take a sick joy in watching her in this state, completely helpless and at my mercy.

She wipes the tears of laughter out of her eyes, playfully pushing me away, before trying to return the favor. Unfortunately for her, I'm immune to it. It's not intentional, but I've never gotten around to figuring out how tickling actually works on a neurological level. Something to work on, I suppose...

It's nice having a little downtime after a stressful day. It's closing in on eight at night, and Mirka ate on the way back. It's amazing, though concerning, how quick she can devour fast food while driving.

It doesn't slow her down though, as she sits upright, a growing impishness cooling the red from her face. "Sit down next to me," she asks.

"Nah," I reply, enjoying the game. "I have no reason to bow to one so susceptible to my attacks, Mimi."

Her eyes look away for a second, only to return with an imposing glare. "Sit," she commands.

I'm about to say something snarky, but find myself doing as she asks, sitting on the bed next to her. She pulls herself over using my waist as an anchor. "That's my good girl. My very good girl." She hugs me tightly for a long moment.

Upon further reflection mind isn't warped. No, it's simply stable. A comfortable place, somewhere I don't have to put on a mask. If there is such a thing as being myself, I've found it by her side.

We really need to have a second date.

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It's a shame she still doesn't like me looking at her paintings, which have moved to a corner of the living room previously occupied by a dusty end table I don't remember buying. She spends so much time on them, but still tries to hide them from me. I admit, I've stolen a peek here or there, but only on ones she's left visible. They're incredible, far better than anything I've seen in person, and I don't understand why she's so self-conscious about them. I respect her privacy enough to not bother her about it. Her art studio makes the room so much cozier anyway. I've never had much of a knack for personalization, so I'm glad Mirka is taking up the mantle.

Still, I have to get started. I know Mirka offered to help, but I'm not going to drag her deeper into my pet mystery. The internet wasn't much help, but it did give me an address for where the company is located. I crack open the window and step out onto a ledge, closing it behind me. I swap shells to my raven form, and take off into the night. Let's see if they lock every door...

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The answer is yes, they do. What they don't do, though, is have the entire building enchanted somehow.

I look for the best way to break in, immediately discounting the chemical vents. The answer to the question of where to enter is, as almost always, via the plumbing.

I find the nearest manhole cover, and swap to my Lena shell to pry it open and drop inside. Sewers aren't quite as spacious as one would think, but I still have plenty of room to maneuver as I start making my way forward. It was two buildings to the west of the manhole, so it should be close.

It's surprisingly easy to make my way through toilet drains, I think. I can just barely squeeze through, and though there's obviously an ick factor at play, my shell can clean itself by decomposing whatever is stuck to it. No trouble at all, though it does gross me out a little. Luckily, I'm so distracted by the grossness of navigating the tiny pipe that I don't even notice how confined I am. Funny how the mind works...

I end up somewhere on the first floor. I swap to my raven shell for now, simply taking short fluttering jaunts and hops instead of traversing it in a human form. Most of the doors inside aren't locked, thankfully. The directory says that the first three floors are all being used by Next Step. I assumed the company would be smaller.

All of the door handles are levers, which makes them easy enough for me to open in this form. I lucked out in that regard. Had they been doorknobs, I'd have a much harder time exploring.

The first floor is boring, mostly just boring cubicles and even more boring offices. Right as I'm about to go, I see a flashlight beam doing a half-assed sweep of the floor. Fortunately, I'm behind a desk at the moment, so I remain undetected. A security guard must be patrolling, and judging by the lazy effort, I haven't triggered any alerts.

Second floor is much the same, though there is a small storage room I investigate. It's a bizarre amount of filing cabinets, each of them locked, and many are dated fairly far back. I know from the internet that the company had a major restructuring at one point, but I've counted thirty cabinets in total, the labels suggesting that the documents stretch all the way back to the 1970s. Why the hell would they need fifty year old records? Something is definitely off here...

Fortunately for me, the storage closet also has an employee handbook, which I absorb to read later. I imagine it will clarify things a bit for me.

The third floor seems to be more nothing, beyond executive offices. Something else doesn't add up. I saw the fume ducts outside, but there isn't a single chemistry hood in sight. Are they for a different floor, or maybe I missed something?

I hop down the stairs, looking for the security guard, and find nothing. As quickly as I entered, I leave, now with my ill-gotten documents and new questions. Mirka's gonna love this.

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"That was stupid. So stupid. Still... you may as well tell me what you found."

I take out the handbook. It's fairly thick, as Mirka and I share as we start reading.

'Hello employee!

We at Next Step Genetics are pioneering the advancement of humanity and the world through research on magic-based creatures!'

"Gross," Mirka says as we flip the page. There's so much here: rules, daily duties, a directory, a history of the company, emergency numbers, a dress code, bonus structures... but not a single word of what they actually do besides a vague 'research.'

Mirka's hand gently pushes down on mine, stopping me from turning a page. I can't believe that it makes me blush. "Right there, Lena. It mentions a 'live specimen coordinator' working in the research department. Feeding mice isn't a full time job."

Motherfuckers. I had my suspicions, but that confirms it. They're not just researching magical beasts. They're holding them captive, or maybe even experimenting on them. Nothing new, but judging how gung-ho they were with Melo and Shirai, I doubt they care if the subjects are sapient.

"Where do we even go from here?"

"Obviously, more research. Let me look through the handbook for a while longer. I still need to put together a coherent picture of what they actually do."

"Gotcha. I'm gonna go check on Shirai and Melo, I think. Be back in a few hours, okay?"

"For sure. By the way, there's a little summer festival tonight. We're going on a date." Mirka waves to me with a wide smile.

I blink, silently nodding before leaving. Shit. Why didn't I say something? I probably should have said something, right? No time to think about it now. I get in my car, and start driving to Shirai's, trying not to crash. Driving never became automatic for me. I have to consciously decide on every wheel turn, every inch I depress the pedals, all of it. It's exhausting, but I have somewhere to be, and I don't have time to mess around with finding somewhere to swap my shell.

I fuck around with parallel parking for about five minutes before settling on a "good enough," and walk to Shirai's basement, stewing in my thoughts and nerves.

This time, though, a pair of people stand just outside. Nemea goons, probably just here to take up space as one of the higher-ups is being tended to. I try to politely move around them, but one of them grabs my arm and yanks me back. It doesn't matter how strong I am: I still only weigh 150 or 160ish, and this guy can pull that much. The amount of force this muscle-bound asshole can generate is pretty impressive. Right now, though, being thrown on the ground makes me angry.

"Nu-uh. No one's seeing the doc today," he says, dry lips rubbing against each other. His acquaintance only nods, beady eyes barely focused on me.

With mild grunt, I stand back up. Shirai hired them? "I'm an exception. Tell him I'm here."

"No exceptions. Piss off." Such an eloquent reply, I think.

"I'm Lena. I'm family." I say on a long exhale. I don't plan on waiting for much longer. Time to push. "How much is he paying you?"

He chuckles. "Nah, Nemea isn't like that. We keep to our deals."

"Oh, I don't intend to pay you off. I just want to know how much I have to reimburse Shirai for after I break your ribs." I send a text to Shirai, telling him to let me in before I beat the shit out of this guy.

The guard doesn't seem impressed by my threat, nor by me immediately going on my phone. "Wow. Cool. Amazing. Fuck off."

Before I can punch him, the storm door to the basement flies open, clattering loudly as Shirai pokes his head out. "I told you guys to let my daughter in if she came!"

The Nemean guy and I exchange a look, his confusion matching our mutual irritation. We both start talking over each other, fighting to be the one to explain to Shirai that I'm clearly too old to be his daughter. Shirai laughs it off, as I begrudgingly follow him into the clinic. Again, it's empty, and has been for a day at least. He's actually rattled...

"Shirai," I ask as he leads me to the break room, "have you ever heard of Next Step Genetics?"

He stops mid-step, stumbling and barely catching himself on the wall. "Yeah. I have. Why?"

"Because we're like 95% sure they're the ones who sent goons after Melo."

He goes pale, for a moment he is a statue that blinks and breaths. He reaches out at the break room door, gently opening it, and looking around it carefully before ushering me in and closing the door behind him.

He stands in the corner, next to a Melo that starts flashing at him. He nods once, and Melo goes dim.

"Lena, were they looking for us specifically, or for a magical beast generally?"

"Generally."

He leans back against the cold tank, slightly disrupting the sea ice's tranquil floating. "I think it's time Lena knew how we met, don't you, Melo?"

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

She stays dim for a moment, before a weak yellow glow eeks out for a moment.

"Yeah... Lena, please understand I was young and stupid."

"Just say it. We've all done dumb stuff. Me especially."

With another reassuring sequence of colors from Melo, he begins. "I used to work for Next Step. I was a new field researcher, and a quick study of magical beast anatomy. I was I think 19 or 20 when I got asked to be part of an arctic expedition to look for magical beasts we could retrieve and try to understand the physiology and genetics of. The poles are hotbeds of magic, of course, as I'm sure you know. I met Melo there while I was in a small submersible, scouting around for any kind of aquatic life. She was sapient, but was hiding that fact. I could tell, though... something about the way she reacted to the currents, to the sub approaching the ice she clung to. It was... I hate to use the term, but it was magical. I fell in love before we exchanged a single word..." Shirai's eyes linger on Melo, a strained smile matching her gentle pulsing green.

I nod, slowly, watching his expression darken.

"I smuggled her back a few months later at my own expense and at her request, after quitting Next Step of course. Apparently there's not much conversation to be had on the bottom of sea ice, and I made good company. Next Step aren't just researchers though, Lena. They're military contractors, or at least, they were. The company was a big deal during the Cold War: with a goal of modifying the human genomes with magical beast DNA. They failed, obviously, but a lot of scary shit came out from the research: bioweapons, militarized magical beasts, all of that. That's not even mentioning all their other failed side projects: disturbing hybridization experiments, creating a homunculus, trying to mimic abilities of magical beasts... you get the point."

I close my eyes, trying to come to terms with the information. Shirai worked for these people. That's too much of a coincidence to write off. Still, why go after him after all this time?

"What do they do now?" I probe, hiding my growing unease.

"Now? Still lots of genetics research. They were halfway to synthesizing the tizzie-whizie genome when I left, though it was unclear why. And it isn't like it matters, either: magical beast DNA is only stable when there's magic to keep it that way, like how you have to keep sodium metal in oil, or else it reacts with the air or water around it. After the Soviet Union collapsed and they lost government funding, they started trying all sorts of stuff, though." He runs his hand through his hair. "This is absolutely something they would do. We were probably targets because we can't call the cops... I know someone there who still works there that owes me a favor. I'll tell you whatever he tells me, okay? Give me a couple days..."

There's a question I need to ask him, but I don't know if I have the fortitude. I open my shell's mouth to speak, and see where it leads. "Okay... Shirai. Were you ever doing any experiments on magical beasts while you were there?" Good, I managed to say it.

He looks so much older, now, the stress of working there back in an instant in the form of wrinkles and dodgy focus. "Yes. Nothing sapient, but still, yes. I didn't want you to know, but... well, you're old enough now." He weakly smiles at the half-joke. "We both love you, Lena. Don't do anything too crazy. These people are crazy, but they're dangerous. You can't be too careful with them."

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The ominous and dour tone Shirai took is starting to weigh on me. It's like he expects me to jump in there guns blazing... I suppose that's a fair assumption, given a history of recklessness, but I aim to prove him wrong.

When I close the door behind me, Mirka is asleep on the couch, a half-dozen highlighters on the table with a series of sticky notes adorning the edges of the handbook. She really takes this seriously. It's not just this case, either, she gives all her all to MBR, and she was the same as a cop. It's inspiring, in a way, if a bit troubling. The more I learn, the less I want her involved.

I leaf through the guidebook's glossy pages, taking stock of every note and highlighted word. It doesn't paint a pretty picture. Much like what Shirai said, they seem to have a strong focus on experimentation now. But why? Just for money? Not to mention that the Scions involved, and since they wouldn't be capturing magical beasts for the fun of it, what are they gaining in return?

I shake Mirka awake, despite not wanting to. This is too important. "Mimi, wake up, please."

She struggles to do so, blinking herself awake and checking the time on her phone. "It's barely noon. What's going on?"

I hesitantly explain Shirai's involvement, answering what questions I'm able to. She looks as confused as I do by the end.

"This is such a mess... I'm going to write a report to MBR about-"

"Fuck no. I don't want Shirai and Melo on their radar."

She grimaces. "You really want to sneak around behind MBR's back? Lena, you know they won't let it slide a second time."

"What choice do we have? I'm sure as shit not going to through my family to the wolves over a job and the risk of being hurt. For now, though... can you track Hyrax?"

She doesn't answer, only looking out the window at the static buildings. "Lena. If we're going to do this, we're doing this together, from start to end. No more lone-wolfing, okay?"

I don't want to lie to her, but I don't want to tell her the truth, either. Damn it. "I can't promise that. It's safer and easier for me to do some parts of this alone."

"Then you tell me the plan, and we go from there. How would you feel if I was doing dangerous espionage for the sake of Steve and Harvey, and just didn't show up at home some nights?"

She has me there. I even considered stalking her when she first joined MBR, after all. "Yeah... okay. You got me. Let's get it done."

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I continue to drive as Mirka concentrates on the spell, as she guides me through the busy streets. She's already lost concentration on her spell once, due to me taking a slightly fast turn, but overall her tracking is going well. It doesn't help that whoever Spider is, they're also in the vicinity.

To make matters even worse, we're somewhere in The Pack's territory now. The dog people are mostly scattered across the city, but a few small pockets here and there in the city are de facto segregated due to the difficulty in renting as a magical beast. It's a sad state, but they're surviving. It even looks significantly nicer than the surrounding area, everything nice and power-washed with lots of trees that all admittedly smell faintly of urine.

Mirka points out a small butcher shop, which I subtly park near. Hyrax's creepy SUV is there, too. I'd disable it with a cut to the fuel line, but if they run, that means they'll lead us right back to their nest. I'd like to keep that option open.

"Loud?" I ask, as we creep alongside the building.

"They're probably doing a fake arrest. Expect weapons."

"I'll go in first, then." With a nod from her, I enter the grocery store, and immediately see Spider and Hyrax in the process of subduing a pair of dog people calmly trying to deescalate. They're a young couple, with fairly matted fur and stretched clothing betraying their poverty. Easy targets, if I had to guess. The butcher is nowhere to be found.

The door chime signals my leisurely entry, causing Spider and Hyrax to both look in my direction. I walk forward, hands in my pockets, looking aloof.

Hyrax's eyes go wide, angled with immediate rage as he starts wordlessly storming over to me. He raises his gun without hesitation, and I know he's going to pull the trigger. I tackle him immediately as he fails to connect a bullet with my brain. He fails to connect the bullet he fires with anything besides the ceiling, in fact. I put him in a simple hold, twisting his arm until the gun in his hands falls to the tile floor.

Spider turns away from the dog people and immediately fixes her full attention on me as she hears Hyrax's gun clatter to the ground, pointing her own gun at my new human shield.

"Hey there. You must be MBR, right?" I ask Spider, arm around Hyrax's neck to keep him from talking.

"Yeah. We are. And you're about to regret what you just did unless you let go and leave right fucking now."

"That's crazy," I say with a smirk, "because you aren't in the MBR database, and Hyrax got fired a few weeks ago. Next Step must be paying you Scions well for this, huh?"

Her lips upturn slightly at hearing that. "So you're a bleeding heart, huh? Here to save these animals? MBR can't arrest people, dipshit, only detain."

"Pfft. Who said I'm MBR? No, see, I'm a very interested party who-"

Mirka bursts through the door, her own gun already drawn. "MBR! Drop the weapon!"

With a long sigh, I turn my head to her. "Damn it. I was pretending to not be MBR."

"That's why I announced it, so you wouldn't actually kill them." She subtly winks at me. That's the game, then. Good cop, psychopathic murderer cop. A classic.

"A shame," I say. "Well, shoot her. Unless you want me to. I can use this guy's gun, make it look like an internal squabble. Who's gonna believe a Houdini addicted Scion?"

Spider's smile starts to fall. "What do you want?"

Mirka slowly lowers her gun, with Spider doing the same in response. "We're not after you. Not yet, anyway. Just tell us what Next Step is doing."

She shrugs. "Damn. This was a sweet gig for us. We get paid to yank these beasties off the street, they get subjects. I'll tell you what you want, assuming there's no catch here."

Mirka purses her lips. "Not yet, anyway. We can track you both now, though. Just run through why you're actually doing this. It's not for money, I know that much."

"Yeah, yeah." Spider rolls her eyes, ignoring the dog people running out the back door. "I think we're after the same target. Some kind of lab experiment that went awry and escaped. You know we don't like beasts running around, and from the implication, this one is particularly nasty."

"Elaborate."

"Wish I could. They won't tell us what it is, just that there's something out there, and has been for a long time. They need subjects to try and reverse engineer the original experiment so they know how to track it down. How funny is that?"

"Not very," Mirka replies. "Besides, we checked their labs. Empty."

Spider glances at me, then back to Mirka. "No, you didn't. Their labs are literally underground, their offices are built on top of them."

"Shit..."

"That's all I got for you. See you around, MBR. Do me a favor and keep Hyrax. He's more trouble than he's worth." With a wink, Spider holsters her gun and casually walks out of the back door, Hyrax still in my hold.

I can tell Mirka wants to shoot her in the back, but she refrains. I wouldn't have that much self-control.

Mirka grunts in irritation. "I'll call the cops. At least we have a lead..."

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Hyrax being in police custody is the best outcome here. The cops don't give two shits about MBR matters, so anything he knows about Melo or Shirai is just going to be laughed off. Still, it's a bit anxiety-inducing to watch him be taken out of my grasp.

Mirka drives this time, fortunately, but immediately making a wrong turn. I stifle a smile, and gently remind her where we live. In turn she only laughs, and continues down the way she was going.

Right! We're going on a date! I can't believe I forgot! A summer festival, if I remember correctly, whatever that's supposed to be. Maybe music? No, I've been religiously checking the touring dates for every band she has music from saved on her phone, and none of them are currently in the area, besides a couple smaller ones she wouldn't be interested in seeing. Neither of the two bands I would want to see are, either, for what its worth.

Despite my preconception, I see the flashing lights of a Ferris wheel approaching as we near a public park.

She has to slow down to avoid the crowds of people treating the busy roads as sidewalks, as police haphazardly direct our parking.

We end up a quarter mile away, but Mirka is so excited she doesn't seem to mind the walk. "You ready, Lena?" she asks with a wide grin.

"I dunno. Never been to one of these."

She grabs my hand, swinging it back and forth a bit. "We're going to have fun. There's food, rides, a bunch of local vendors, games, all that! I know the food might not interest you all that much, but the other stuff can be fun!"

She's like a little kid. I would have never expected her to get this excited about funnel cakes and bead jewelry. The more I learn about her...

Well, if she's this excited, I'm going to match the energy. Or at least attempt to. My mind is still fixated on the Next Step problem, but it seems Mirka is much better at separating work and leisure than I am. Still, I can get excited, or at least feign it for her sake.

First stop, by her directive, is food. There is an obstacle that stands between her and the fried dough, though: a very long line that erodes at an agonizing pace. I see her enthusiasm starting to drain around the five minute mark, as by my estimation, we remain a half hour away for her prize...

Then I see it, the answer to our problem. A child is handed a plate at the front of the stand that he immediately drops that contains the coveted treat: pristine and untarnished, beyond a little dirt. With a wink to her, I steal a large trash bag from a blue metal trash can, and walk it over to the dropped fried dough. No one gives me a second look as I pick it up while holding the trash bag, giving me time to return the bag and surreptitiously stuffing it into my pocket.

Perfect.

I return to a curious Mirka, who asks where I was just now. In response, I smile, and take her hand away from the fried dough stand. She looks forlornly at it, but relents, admitting it would have taken far too long.

Food like this is organic, though processed, so it will take around five minutes to synthesize it, along with another two for the a thin paper plate. I guide her around for a moment, looking at the other massive lines for food, until its ready. I simply chose to recreate it without any dirt or grass. It's also sterile, though that's more a byproduct than a conscious decision.

As she gives up looking for food, I simply tap her on the shoulder, offering the fried dough to her wordlessly.

"...what did you do?" she asks with skepticism, looking around for anyone I may have stolen it from.

My view of trust has evolved substantially since meeting Mirka, beyond a simple black and white 'tell the truth or you're a liar' mentality. I can utilize this new knowledge here...

"I already knew how to make it, just didn't think about it until I saw how long the line was."

Her excitement is back immediately as she starts eating, and I start preparing another. She looks so grateful, and there's no risk of illness from the absolute sterility of food I create. This is what lying is made for, isn't it?

I have the sudden instinct to write it down. I pull out my journal and pen, which still feel comfortable in my hands, and scratch it down.

#66: I can use lying ethically, I believe.

Like a bolt of lightning, I get it, as I hold the journal in my hands. Who I am isn't defined by the people around me, but it is in part defined by how I choose to treat them. A revelation I receive as I watch Mirka choke down the fried dough like a starving cat.

I hope we have time for the Ferris Wheel later. I want to tell her something.

The next event, though, are a bunch of carnival games. I'm fairly good at tests of skill, but I lack the instinctive way of throwing everyone else has. I have a lot of trouble with how much I limit my strength, usually opting for increments of quarters. For something as precise as throwing a ring around a bottle though, I'm hopeless.

What I do see, after a series of failures by both Mirka and I, are two that catch my eye: knocking over milk bottles, and trying to ring a bell by hitting a plate with an oversized hammer.

These poor bastards have no idea what's coming. Mirka doesn't stop me as I walk to the milk bottles first, too engaged with my bribe of a second piece of fried dough. With a smirk, I set down five bucks, and take the three balls I'm given to try and knock them over. They're light, but not so light that air resistance is an issue.

"Mimi, where do I aim this?"

She gulps down more of her treat before answering. "The exact center of the three, or the very base of the bottom two. Don't feel bad if-"

With a maximum strength throw, I easily knock down the first three. The woman at the stand seems surprised. "Wow. Okay. Uhh, any prize from-"

"I have two more tries. If I win all three, I get that giant pink duck plushie, right?"

She shrugs, and sets them back up. "Yeah, you do. Never seen someone-"

I knock them down once again. She narrows her eyes at me. "You're not using magic, are you?"

"Pfft. So I look like a sorcerer or magician to you?"

With a sigh, she sets them up once again. I take diligent aim. Victory was assured the moment I decided Mirka wanted the grand prize. I release the ball, eyes alight.

Despite the comedic potential, Mirka's new giant pink duck is a much better reward than me embarrassing myself.

What it needs now, though, is a friend. Conveniently enough, the strength test with the bell has a purple duck that is otherwise identical.

I pay that guy five bucks too. He says I only get one swing. As if that were going to stop me. With a single swing, the bell cries out from on high, as I claim what is rightfully Mimi's.

I end up having to hold two comedically oversized plush ducks as Mirka and I look at all the crafts and used books the vendors have on offer. I am the logical choice to carry them, though Mirka saying I'm a strong and sexy woman didn't hurt...

I watch her peruse the yellowing pages of a library's used book sale, enjoying the moment with her. She even ends up buying a few books that I am also tasked to carry, despite us both knowing she'll never read them

The sun has set, and the festival is closing soon, leaving us with one last place to go. The Ferris wheel, at my request, though she was quick to agree. After a price I'd rather not mention to have the guy let us have a gondola to ourselves, we sit next to each other, with her ducks on the opposite side. A double date, of a kind, as we slowly advance into the air.

There's a beauty in rising while in my human shell that I don't feel while as a raven. The sky is beautiful, but that's not where my view is fixated. Neither is Mirka's.

"So, this is about the end of our second date, huh?" I ask, looking away as I realize how long I was staring for.

"Yeah. Just about... it was a great one, though," she replies.

"Mimi."

Her face still brightens when I call her that. It's painfully cute, though hesitant creases form along the edges of her smile. "Don't say it."

Shit. "I, uhh, wasn't going to do anything. Say what?"

"You know what. So don't."

I nod, accepting, though a little crushed. It is pretty fast, admittedly. "Sorry."

"Shush, I'm being selfish. I simply want to be the first to say it. I love you, Lena."

There's no time to reply or to process it, as she pulls me into a kiss that makes my shell's vision blur. I don't care about the how or why, because my eyes aren't needed when her lips provide me with everything I need.

We slowly pull apart, mostly because the ride is ending and we don't want to be pulled off like teenagers.

Damn it, I'm almost out of time. As the Ferris wheel comes to a stop and our little metal gate is opened, I kiss her quickly and say a quick "I love you, too, Mimi."

Not exactly how I imagined this going, but memorable all the same.

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The night we spent together is memorable, too.

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As Mirka quietly snores next to me, I start looking through the handbook I stole again. My eyes stop on the history page. Apparently they had to abandon their first office building due to some kind of accident making it unsafe...

My heart speeds up as I look at a black and white photo from the late 80s, a concrete monolith with a distinctive design. One that brings a sense of noxious nostalgia.

I rip the page from the handbook, write a quick note to Mirka explaining where I'll be, and take off as a raven into the night. It has to be a coincidence. Maybe a false memory. I have to see for myself.

The building next to it matches the photo page I ripped from the handbook. The streets are the same, and fire hydrant outside hasn't changed position. There's no mistaking it: it's the same building that I thought it was. The building that was torn down decades ago.

The place I was spawned in. My birthplace.

The torn page is crushed in my hand as I throw it aside, stomping across the street, ignoring the cars screeching to a halt and pounding on their horns.

I don't understand. This can't be a coincidence. There's too much evidence that says otherwise.

I'm getting answers. Tonight.