Chapter 6.3 Learning the Lynx

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Break time.

"The thing about questions is they need answers," Jessica mused. "Unless you're like Adam, equations need solving and encryptions need breaking." The apple in her hand, she took a bite and savored the juice. Man is the retarded scrivener grasping at recollections of perfection. "You only need one off-note to bring down the symphony. So, imagine how the story would change if God was the Snake and the Devil made Eden."

Her black hair fluttered in the wind as she leaned on the edge of an inner-city roof, a delivery box at her feet. The eyes of the Lynx swept unadulterated sky and fell on the skyscraper directly across, the word Goliath specular and bright. She thus descended the building steadily and checked both sides of the street before crossing.

Within the megastructure, she found an immaculate white lounge. A crescent counter controlled the rear wall, where staff sat glued to their terminals' contoured light. Everywhere else propaganda decorations: a loop of advertisements, AEF posters, and silent holograms broadcasted human-alien homogeny. And of course, the symbol of Goliath was emblazoned on the mysterious leviathan of a spaceship that nobody recognized. It lived within a great green banner, the first thing people saw upon entry.

Two Koi ponds paralleled the main walkway, while a third split the walkway into two lanes. Aside from questioning the decision behind three Koi ponds, Jessica ran through several scenarios in her head, enumerating the variables for what came next. "But Doc." The moment it folded, she kicked the gravity board into her arm, readied her carrier, and casually stepped to.

From the middle of the terminal nexus, a female Azarean noted the reverberation of footsteps, perhaps because there was no line and the lobby was near empty. Her perfectly combed blue hair accompanied a porcelain face, with lips a mild violet in hue. Her sunny irises reflected the room when Jessica landed a hand on the counter.

"Greetings," the Azarean started. "How may I assist you, this afternoon?"

"I've got a delivery for..." —checking the bright letters on the insulator— "Azeem?"

A suspicious grin crossed her pale face. "I see. You shall have to wait a moment while I confirm."

"This again?" Jessica snarled, and read the glowing nametag. "Megyn."

"It's Me-giine. Please, wait a moment."

Humming, Jessica checked her wrist while the Azarean clerk typed. 12:12.

"Hmm. The order was placed at 11:52," said the woman. "You're right on time."

Jessica smirked. "It's okay, I forgive you."

"Peculiar. I did not figure Azeem for a consumer of tacos."

"Well, Me-giine, he probably picked up the taste from Cheng after I delivered last Monday at 11:37... Same branch, no?"

The clerk breath through her thin nostrils. "Indeed. That would make sense. Gratitude for waiting. I suppose you know your way."

"To Computer Software, yeah?"

Curving stairs left and right led to the elevators. Jessica frivolously sauntered right, the carrier in hand.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. "Sixty seconds." She watched as the highlighted numbers switched overhead: 5, 6, 7. 

Early on in life, she realized that anxiety was a waste of a heart's beat. No matter the equation, being anxious was like discomfort sprinkled on a destiny sundae.

Ding. The doors opened to white terminals, white outfits, and ample amounts of repressed creativity consigned to one room. One quick survey showcased the silicon rows, the doors, the people, and the memo board. Everything. The secrets had to lurk elsewhere.

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