Blackridge Institute (wlw)

Chapter 6

The door to the dorm room swung open on silent hinges, quiet as a whisper. The intruder took several steps onto the floorboards before the two people already in the room whirled around in alarm.

Rook said, "It's me."

"For someone who doesn't spend time on land, you're light on your feet." Solomon turned back to what she was doing.

"Good, you're here." Casandra did not go back to what she was doing, which was boo for Solomon, considering that she was just hovering over Cas's shoulder.

"Your email was vague," said Rook, who sounded like her lungs were flooded. They probably were. "What are we doing?"

Cas nodded to her, and Solomon answered. "You're getting sucked."

"I beg your pardon—"

The angel beside her grimaced and spoke before Sol could say more. "The email invited you to participate in our research. Particularly, we needed a source for Solomon. I mentioned this."

"Why not just you?"

"Conflict of interest," Cas said, handing a sheet to Rook. "Here's a waiver."

Rook gave the slip of paper a once-over and scrawled at the bottom with the proffered pen. "I wasn't clear on the details."

"Why'd you agree then?" Solomon put her hands on her hips, leaning to look at the waiver that she hadn't been offered.

"I enjoy your dynamic," said the Drowned.

"What does that even mean—"

Casandra had moved to lock the door. "Everything is in order. Solomon?"

Sol nodded and advanced. Rook was confused. "What do I do? Do I just stand here?"

"Pretty much. Now relax. We can hold hands if you want."

"Okay." Rook placed her hands in Solomon's, amusement plain on her face. Casandra had sat on her chair to watch them, chin in hand. Sol, suddenly, had performance anxiety.

She cast it aside and focused, tapping into Rook's wellspring and drawing from it. It was oddly shallow.

Solomon said, "Think of something exciting."

"I'm going to need clarification on what counts as exciting," said Rook. "You might regret reaching around in there."

Despite her comments, Sol felt it surge and disregarded the details, drawing on it instead until she thought she had had an appropriate amount.

"Done," she said.

"That's it? I only feel tingly."

"Hate the way you said that." Sol took her hands away, and Rook wiped hers on her own trousers.

Rook said, "You were sweating."

"That's you," said Solomon, indignant. "What did you think about?"

"Don't worry about it."

"That's that done, then. Thank you for your contribution, Rook." Casandra stood up; Solomon had never forgotten she was there.

"No bother. What's next?"

"We won't need you for the next part—" said Sol, at the same time Casandra spoke.

"Solomon's showing me how her genitals can change."

"Angel." Sol pinched the bridge of her nose. "You can go now, Rook."

"Aw, what? I don't get to see clam? No three-pronged pitchfork?" said Rook, but Solomon was already frog-marching her to the door.

"Thank you so much for your help," she said, closing the door on the other woman's face before she even finished the sentence. With just the two of them in the room, Solomon pivoted, as does a creaky barstool, toward Casandra.

The angel said, "Do you really have three-headed paraphernalia?"

"Three-headed—?" Sol wheezed. "In what situation would you ever need three?"

Casandra smiled, which was not an appropriate response. "You worry too much. I'm interested in all of your body's generative properties. All the ways you can change yourself."

Was Solomon a prude? No, but she was shy sometimes, in front of people she liked. Did Casandra fit into this category? Yes, but—

There was always a catch, for people such as Sol. The attraction was instant, catching aflame the moment Casandra deigned to smile at her in that strange way, but for her kind, she was told, attraction was always instant. It would work out in her favor, and that she should expect her lovers to have lovers.

Solomon had always wondered if she was the black sheep of the family, because she had never taken a partner. They were expected to take partners, in the interest of their House.

Sometimes she wondered if everyone in her family felt this way and were just very good at living with it, and that nobody talked about it. Which was probably just cope because Solomon knew she couldn't live like that.

At any rate, Casandra was never going to be her partner. She never even entertained the idea, except for when she would. Casandra was an angel, and she didn't know if angels even took partners, and if they did it was safe to assume it wouldn't be someone like her.

"Solomon," said the angel. "Show me."

"Keep your pants on," said Sol, taking hers off.

"Starting strong."

"To get it out of the way. Unless you want to start with something else?"

"This is fine." Casandra sat back on her chair, watching intently.

Solomon stripped as unsexily as possible, which was very hard because she was smoking hot no matter what she did. Soon she was unclothed, but Casandra had already seen all this before—and Sol noted that the angel still had no outward reaction.

"Go on, then," said Cas, clipboard at the ready.

Solomon closed her eyes and rearranged her atoms. When she was done, she opened her eyes to find Casandra in close proximity. She willed herself not to flinch.

"Fascinating," said Casandra. "Slower than what I can do, but very similar."

The angel moved to grab her, and Solomon nearly tripped backward in alarm when Cas stopped. She said, "I'm realizing I don't know how. You do it. Can you get going?"

Solomon's soul expelled and came back in a split-second as she watched Casandra's lips form the words get going. Strangled, she said, "Sure."

Cas didn't make it awkward, which was a relief. But then, when she was done, Casandra said, "May I? I want to measure."

Solomon squeaked out an affirmative and Cas held her in impossibly soft hands. Must be lucky to never need to moisturize, when you can just regrow cells at will.

Solomon kept very very still as Casandra touched the length of her, measuring as she went. The angel said, "Can you get bigger?"

"Yes, but past a certain size they're not useful."

"I see. I don't know very much about this." Casandra let go and scribbled something down.

"What do you think?" said Sol, making idle conversation, because she was rock hard in a room with a very handsome woman.

Absently the angel said, "I prefer you the other way. From before."

Before Solomon could even process that, Casandra flipped a page and asked her to change her hair color.