12

                                    

                                          
12
                          
"Did you get it? Tell me you got that!" She didn't jump, this time. The disconnection felt far more sedate than she felt used to.
                          
Once she had removed the headset, though, she did jump to her feet. She felt energised about that encounter. One of the most incredible events she had ever experienced while in the Thought-Scape. She paced up and down the few feet of floor space as she tried to calm her mind.
                          
"Ken, is this what you've been doing to earn money?" Kontessa looked horrified as she whipped her fingers up and across the slate. "No fifteen year old should have to see things like this. How are you not spending all your money on therapy?"
                          
"Whiskey is my therapy." She stopped pacing and looked down towards her feet. Something was wrong. So very, very wrong. "Have you cleaned my apartment? 'Puter, lights up."
                          
The lights moved from the dim, almost off state to a brightness that stung Ken's eyes. Blinking, she looked back at her feet, noticing the complete lack of mess upon the floor. Gone were the food boxes, the clothes, the wires and gadgets that she had no reason to hold on to. Instead, she could see carpet. She had forgotten she even had a carpet.
                          
"Whiskey? How are you even able to handle whiskey? You're fif ..." Her sister, her estranged and unwanted sister, glared at her, open-mouthed.
                          
"Fifteen. Yeah. I know." She pointed to the floor, rubbing her forehead with her other hand. "You can't do this, Tessa. This is my home. You can't just mess about with my things. Where are my clothes, anyway."
                          
"I washed and dried them while you were Scaping. Everything's in your drawer compartments, under the bed. You were in there a long time." Kontessa held up a hand to pause Ken before she exploded. "I've only thrown away the trash. I even checked to make sure you hadn't written anything on any of it. You know, like you used to? When we'd find calculations on chocolate wrappers?"
                          
"That was a long time ago. I make all my calculations Virt." She tapped her temple then scrunched up her face, confused. "How did you wash and dry my clothes? I don't have a machine."
                          
"Well, that lovely lady outside told me where the facilities were. They're only a few doors down and I expected you'd be Scaping for a while. I got bored." Shrugging, Kontessa returned to looking through the raw data of Ken's latest fall through dreams.
                          
Ken had started feeling pressurised from the moment Kontessa had appeared at the transport tubes with several heavy bags in hand. No matter what Ken told her, Tessa simply couldn't believe most of her baggage would get stolen within minutes of landing in Goodfellow Sector. Much to her sister's dismay, Ken had thought-clicked a message to a near-by freight drone, sending most of the luggage back to Tessa's apartment complex.
                          
Kontessa had insisted on keeping hold of her bag full of data gathering equipment, even though Ken told her she could hire the same gear down at her level, without risking bodily harm from someone trying to take hers. Kontessa, with her Loki Sector ways, attitude and clothing would find a target on her back soon enough. No-one had proven Ken right, yet, and she felt guilty that that pissed her off.
                          
"Selda? Selda is lovely?" She scowled at Kontessa's beaming smile and vigorous nods. "Whatever. I saw her again. The last dive. Tessa, she saw me. She talked to me. Not some passing figure in her dream, actually, really me. That shouldn't happen."
                          
Tessa scowled, herself, at that. Her fingers expanded something on her slate and her frown deepened. She made several taps and threw the details towards Ken's implant. Taking the data Virt, Ken examined the lists of numbers and letters that detailed the entirety of the incident. The whole of the data overlaying her Real view of her apartment and Kontessa.