Robert Charrette - Choose your enemies carefully

"Ah, Janice," he said as he noticed her. "It is good to see you again."

He was smiling, with pleasure she thought. Why he should do that, she didn't know. She wasn't pleasant to see. She felt awkward and out of place. "Wish I thought so, Mr. Shiroi." His smile faded a bit and his eyes filled with concern. "You must learn to accept what you are, since there is no way to change it. Denial only prolongs the pain. I do not wish to see you in pain. And please, call me Dan."

She slowly walked across the room, since that was expected. When he indicated the chair in front of the desk, she sat. She started as the soft grey upholstery shifted beneath her.

"Just relax. It will settle down," he said. There was a hint of amusement on his face.

She didn't like being laughed at. Forcing herself to ignore the squirming chair, she waited. The cushions slowed their wriggling and finally stopped. She was surprised at how comfortable it was. She was almost as surprised that the chair seemed to fit her oversize body. Shiroi must have read her reaction on her face. "You have just had your first experience with a Tendai-Barca Glove Lounger. They are always a little unnerving the first time, but, if you will excuse the pun, one adjusts quickly. I doubt you will find better seating anywhere in the world."

She calmed her breathing, relaxing. The chair shifted again to accommodate her. Perhaps her anger at his amusement was out of place. Anyone feeling a chair writhe under their butt would look comical. She still wasn't comfortable mentally, though. He had had her brought halfway around the world. Surely, it wasn't all for the sake of this small joke? "What do you want, Mr. Shiroi?" "There is no more reason to be abrupt than there is to distrust my motives, Janice." He took her bad manners in stride. She even thought she detected a hint of sadness behind his soft voice. "I want to help you find yourself. I want you to accept a place in my organization. If you choose to follow your own path, I will understand, but it is my hope that you will find us congenial. It is very lonely being on your own. It could also be dangerous."

"Trying to scare me, Mr. Shiroi?" He laughed. "No. The outside world holds enough terrors for our kind. We need not prey upon ourselves. And I do wish that you would call me Dan."

"Dan. You say 'our kind.' / know you and Garcia are like me, but your employees don't know it because you hide behind illusions, or whatever it is you do so that they see you as norms. Why? Why do you hide what you are?"

"Why?" he asked. All trace of his humor sank beneath an expression of seriousness. "You should not have to ask that. You have seen yourself in the mirror, Janice. You have seen how the norms react to you. That is the answer. Do you wish to deal with the unreasoning fear all day, every day?"

Of course she didn't. Who would? She had felt the fear and hate too often when she was just an ork. Orks were common. She didn't like to think what was in store for her as a rare, more monstrous metahuman. Against that dread, her objection seemed petty.

"I don't like pretending to be something other than what I am!"

He swiveled his chair ninety degrees, presenting her with a profile. She watched his chest rise and listened as he let the air out in a long sigh.

"We all wear masks and pretend to be something other than ourselves, do we not? The norms do it. Even you did it before your change." He swiveled back to face her, cutting her off before she could object. "Were you not a different person with your peers than when you were with your family? How about when you dealt with your corporate superiors? Every set of people with whom we interact sees a different person, a different facet of ourselves. This magical disguise is like that, a mask of necessity. In our case, it hides the physical reality. Beneath the masks we are still ourselves. The illusion is simply necessary grease for the machine of social interaction. Nothing more. Having spent so much time in the Imperial Japanese Empire, surely you are familiar with the need to smooth relations between people."

At the mention of Japan, she shivered. The chair shifted in response.

"I am sorry. I should not have mentioned Japan."

He watched her for a while, saying nothing. She was glad; she didn't know what to say. He was right, of course. It still seemed.. odd that someone could make the metaphorical masks a reality. If a magical spell could be called reality. She taxed the TendaiBarca, seeking to get into a physically comfortable position, while it was her mental state that unsettled her. He, of course, noticed.

"If you will be more comfortable, I will drop the spell. You are among friends here."

"I don't know. I don't know what I want. It's been so confusing. I just want to get things under control." "I want to help you do just that. Here. Look." He had dropped his spell. He was huge, bigger than she was. His Tendai-Barca flowed to support his increased size; panels expanded, slumped, and thickened as the chair reshaped itself to accommodate him. His fur was stark white, as pure as polar snow. The skin of his broad face and powerful hands was dark and glossy with health. Once she might have shrunk from his visage, but now she was as monstrous as he. But then, he didn't consider himself monstrous. Or did he? He hid beneath a spell. Or was that true, either? What did he see when he looked in a mirror? The smooth Oriental features of Mr. Dan Shiroi or the wide nose, deep-set eyes, and fangs of his metatype?

"Now that the mask is down, anyone can see that I am of the same metatype as you. Believe me when I say that I understand what you are going through. Between us there need be no false fronts. Illusions are for the norms."

A sudden stir of bitterness swirled across her mind, rippling through what she realized had been a growing sense of fellowship. He might be her metatype, but he was still something she was not. "Even if I accepted your philosophy, Dan, I couldn't do what you do. I'm mundane."

"And how do you know that with such certainty? You cannot be totally without talent if you pierced our illusions."

Once again his expression held a hint that he knew something that she did not. She felt uneasy under that knowing gaze. She felt more disquieted by the growing belief that he meant her well, that he really was interested in her.

She heaved herself up out of the chair, staggering a little when it released her more easily than she had expected. Pacing around the desk, she made her unsteady way to the window-wall. Beneath her spread the panorama of the towers of Mexico City. The spires of man's arrogance, lofting above one of the largest cities on earth while the bases of those towers lay hidden in smog. Hidden too were the people who thronged the Atzlan capital. People.. she wasn't one of them anymore. This city couldn't be her home. Cities were places for people and people had cast her out. Would she ever have a home now?

She had been beginning to think that she might find one with Shiroi… no, Dan. But now she saw that slipping away as well. He thought she was just like him, but she knew better. She was incapable of doing what he could, and she knew it all too well.

She owed him for his kindness. His manner was so accepting, his interest in her welfare so clear. The least she could do was to tell him how she knew that she had none of the magic. She turned around to find that he had risen from his chair. He stood a step away, concern and anxiety plain on his face. She smiled sheepishly.

"I've never told anyone, Dan. None of my friends. Not even my brother. I was embarrassed to tell anyone." He reached out a long arm and rested a hand on her arm. She drew strength from the comforting touch. "I was tested for magical ability once."

"By whom?"

"The Hoboken Institute. They are a very reputable firm."