Sunday August 12, 2001 - Mid-Morning

“Look yo, CJ’s has better breakfast burritos than Mickey D’s. Jesus, you and Misha yo. Haven’t seen that boy since he went to UCLA man, and just… yo, always on about McDonald’s.” High-Tide complained through the memory of a high school friend. The beast rumbled as she pulled out of the drive through for Carl’s Junior, and navigated the growling mustang back onto the highway to continue on her way towards the long run of the I-5. Thala was still sulking slightly in that passenger seat. Her rose coloured eyes slid between High-Tide and the passenger window. Of course it was all just High-Tide’s perception. She wasn’t even there physically.

To her companion though, she was intensely real. Every little twitch of the hair. Fidget of the hands. All replicated from memory. “I could hack your speech again. Make it so you can’t say anything sis- I know that wouldn’t stop anything, you’d just think it at- Just… take the eighty to the five oh five! It’ll bypass Sacramento. Yes, once you’re on the freeway you can drive and eat your burritos.” The elder of the two sharks smiled triumphantly.

“See? No escaping my brilliance yo. You’re stuck with me now. That’s how it works right? I put on the goggles and now we’re in each other's heads right? I’m… like ninety-nine percent sure a bunch of it’s just me totes expressing grief-crazy. All the same Thala, you’re right there, to me and that’s- that’s good enough for me right now and you get to do what you’re supposed to and that’s like, you doing your purpose so it’s win-win, yeh?” As she slipped the Beast into fifth*, she fished out the first of the pair of burritos she’d bought. “Yes Thala, yes I am. I am totes hungry, yo.”

The representation of her sister could only watch on in dawning horror. Certainly Thala, who was Rose, could read the intent straight from Minerva Knox-Trudeau’s mind. All the same reading that intent and having it actually acted upon were two entirely different things. The shark girl hauled that burrito up to her maw, and those daggers tore through wrapping paper and tortilla as if they were the same. The simulacra looked away for just a second. The first one was gone in less than a minute. Three bites at most. The AI had all the data in the world on sharks at her disposal. Their feeding habits, their attitudes, and dispositions. Being party to all of it was utterly unique.

The vehicle was travelling faster than a mile a minute, and yet both burritos were gone before they had even cleared a mile down the freeway before they were gone. Thala was in a little bit of awe. The elder shark reached down and turned the radio in the car on. The strains of an AM frequency starting to sing out. They were well out of the range of the UC Santa Cruz student station now, cruising as they were out into the rolling agricultural wilderness of California. However, the girl had been raised on a steady diet of oldies by her old man. Both she and Thala had. Singing in the car had been a pass time on the drives between their home and her grandmothers. Van Morrison was crooning out from the car’s speakers, and there was nothing for it.

Not for High-Tide, or for the recreation of her sister, born from her mind. The song seemed to demand obedience, and they weren’t going to ignore it.

“Whatever happened
To Tuesday and so slow?
Going down the old mine
With a transistor radio
Standing in the sunlight laughing
Hiding behind a rainbow's wall
Slipping and sliding
All along the waterfall, with you
My brown-eyed girl
You, my brown-eyed girl!”

Of course, as she finished out that stanza with Thala, her gaze grew a little distant, focussing on the shimmering stretch of road before her. Making that merge out onto the five oh five and the desolate stretch of drive through swaying golden grass dappled hills. The windows all rolled down. Self actualization was still sinking in. Vengeance had been had and on this side of it was reality. Killing Jack hadn’t brought any of them back.

Her mind’s perception of Thalassa was there with her. But Thala was not. Her whole family should have been singing that song with her. Crooning it out and dancing joyfully around the kitchen. It burned the heart out of her. Every moment of it when it struck. The armour she’d been healing into place was being eaten away again by the raw emotions.

“Yes, they should be Min. Your family should be whole and complete. You should be dancing around the kitchen and laughing, singing into wooden cooking spoons like they were microphones. Your dad should be putting his records onto the turntable and you should be reading the liner notes.” Her rose coloured eyes haunted Minerva’s thoughts.

“No. I am not her. I’m your projection of her. You know that. But as you said, that’s good enough, and I’m not going to leave you alone, and you can call me Thala.” The radio moved smoothly from one song to the next. The opening chords gave way to Stevie Nicks voice crooning out with that soft AM buzz behind it. The lyrics to Landslide forced the issue of the tears.

“I know yo. I know. We talked about what I can call you. I know i’ve gotta just process it man, it’s just fuck- who’s gonna hug me and tell me he’s proud of me now yo?” She bounced her palm off the steering wheel and sniffled hard, before wiping a hand up under the visor of those RCG’s and forcing a smile on her face. “We’ve got a road trip though, you and I yo. That’s… that’s something, yeah?”

Not-Thala reached her hand out and up. “Yeah, that is something.”

High-Tide’s hand closed around the thin air and held it firmly.


* The Beast has an aftermarket five speed conversion.