Dangerous by Default

65. The memorial

A small crowd huddled together under awnings and umbrellas trying to avoid the rain, clapping lightly for the social worker who had just finished his speech and stepped away from the podium. The tall blonde woman who took his place rose above the crowd like a winged sculpture of victory. Roseogrisea shot a final glance over her shoulder to the empty storefront behind her to no one who could be seen from the street. A local news camera that had been jacked up on a long mechanical arm swept towards her over the dreary group of Tenderloin locals and city politicians.

"Thank you all. My name is Rose Trisaris. I'm the CEO of Dimensions." Roseogrisea paused for a moment, to let the weight of her words sink into the crowd, let them sink into herself. She was playing a part, and she needed to go deeper.

"I have enormous shoes to fill. The genius of Mina Blue is legendary, but not as well known was her bravery. After her tragic death three weeks ago, what is known is this: she died doing something extraordinary, and utterly common to those of us who were lucky enough to call her a friend and, in my case for an extremely short period of time, a colleague: she died trying to protect her loved ones, her husband Caine, the gifted artist, and Ami, the head of research at Dimensions. Tragically, all three died together after Mina's yacht capsized in the bay. The tragic irony of someone as warm-hearted as her, to pass away due to hyperthermia as she tried to swim to the rescue of her husband and friend who had been thrown from the boat."

"While her gifts to science and medicine will live on forever, another deeply important community, her fellow residents in the Tenderloin, should have a way to remember her as well. That's why, today, with the Mayor's office and the financial support of Dimension's Philanthropy fund, we'd like to announce the opening of the Mina Blue Memorial Women's Shelter, or Dove House for short. A house to provide sanctuary and tools for transgender women in the Tenderloin. A place where her courage and her love can be extended in death to those who she cared so deeply about in life, like a warm blanket. We have already started construction on the new shelter in haste. We look forward to inviting the community to make use of it when it is completed. Thank you."

Roseogrisea stepped off of the podium to make room for the Mayor. More dreary clapping. This is now my life. Giving speeches. Talking to small disinterested crowds. 12-hour workdays followed by dinners with investors. No more luncheons with Saudi princes at seven-star hotels. She looked over her shoulder again, catching a glimmer of movement inside the empty storefront. She entered it.

Roseogrisea stood in the damp chalky air of the empty storefront. The ceiling tiles were half loose, their fangled corners poking down like shattered teeth. A hooded figure emerged from an unlit hallway that stretched into the back recesses of the space. The form stepped out just enough for the black water-soaked boots to be lighted by the clawing glow of daylight that poured through the graffiti-streaked glass. The rest of the figure remained hidden. It didn't matter. Roseogrisea knew exactly who it was.

"I assume you've come to tell me something good, for a change? Like, your team has finished analyzing the research files?" Knuckles cracked in the darkness. She was upset Roseogrisea thought. I would be too.

"No, we haven't. There is five years of research in that lab, most of it highly technical, and as we were finding out, Ami documented almost nothing in a way that would allow a collaborator to understand her notes, let alone facilitate the transfer of knowledge to someone who is working totally independently from her. But we are making progress."

Roseogrisea knew that the hooded figure before her hated her. Probably wanted her dead. It was enough to have been rivals when they were both simply operatives in the Doves organization. But now Roseogrisea was her boss. On an op that was rightly hers to take.

She thought for a moment on how to react to the news White Wing had just given her. No, she was Janus now. White Wing has been put on a shelf. She stepped over her and did something White Wing was not expecting. She took her by the hand and led her to the bright window. White Wing stood there, uncertain.

"What are you doing?" White Wing asked nervously. Roseogrisea pinched the corners of White Wing's cowl and let the hood fall back, exposing a long tumble of natty purplish hair. To Roseogrisea, whose hair was always impeccably maintained, it looked ghastly. She wondered if the sewage had damaged the strands permanently. It had been three weeks. She should have been able to wash it off by now. She leaned in ever so slightly and took a whiff. No smell.

"Don't wear that hood anymore, White Wing. We are beyond cloak and daggers. You are a senior executive now. You shouldn't be seen in public dressed like a cartoon character."

"Don't tell me how to dress." White Wing shot back, snapping her cowl back over her head and obscurring her eyes. She fell back to the darkness.

"I know you think that you should be standing in my shoes. To tell you the truth, I didn't ask for this position. But now it's been given to me, don't act like some snotty brat who doesn't like mommy's new boyfriend. I'm your boss now, Janus. If you don't like it, well, there isn't another gig for you in the organization, so I guess that's tough luck. But I'll tell you what." Her eyes fixed into the dark shadows of White Wing's hood where her obscured face was lurking.

"Don't knock me before you give me a chance. I dare say there are a couple things you might learn from me, Janus. Work with me. We can take this crazy project to a place nobody dreamed of. But you have to give me a chance."