Duly educated and with his hunger sated, in the lingering mist of sour soup, Sao settled into his work once more. He made good progress, and the old report he was transcribing was interesting enough. The detective who’d written it had a surly style, like an old noir archetype, although the subject of his report was essentially a small-time candystore heist. 

As the sun began to set, the phone rang.

Sao blinked, his mind still on gold coins and confectionery.

The office phone sat on a precarious wall outcrop that might have been intended for plants, trinkets or photo frames. As far as Sao could tell, Rai was a fan of neither. Despite it being his home, Rai was a sparse decorator; not impersonal per se (Sao believed his choice of sofa showed quite a bit of personality) but he was not into ornamentation. A bit like the North household, with better lighting. Death to sentimentality. But no - he reminded himself - the Norths had their dark corner of photos. Small eyes of past selves staring unblinkingly out as one dined - perhaps that wasn’t much better.

He picked up the phone and was immediately blasted by the raging complaints of a man over at headquarters.

“Rai isn’t in at the moment. How may I help you?”

“Where is he? That little -- he knows how important this is. If we don’t dig something up soon, we’re going to lose our chance.”

“Is there an assignment due?”

“It’s what he sent in this afternoon, it’s no good. I can’t work with this. The little prick says my numbers add up - I’ll tell him what doesn’t add up.” On the other end of the line, the detective had good enough manners to hold the phone away from his face while he cursed. “You can’t tell me there isn’t a single usable piece of--”

“I can’t say, unfortunately.”

Sao did not believe Rai was bad at his job - on the contrary, Rai worked through nights, so he tended to be handed the emergency tasks, audits to be completed in a quarter of the usual time, by some very expectant higher-ups. And with great expectations came great disappointment when they realized they did not indeed have clearance or evidence enough to go ahead with their next-day bust. It was always the next day, tonight, or right now, Rai’s fault. Perhaps Rai enjoyed that kind of power. But there was little his subjects could do besides live with his word, file a new request with a more generous timeline and auditor, or of course, berate Rai over the phone.

Or whoever he’d left to pick up the phone. Sao listened, or rather nodded along to the beat, with a faint smile. No wonder Rai had made a quick escape for the evening.

“Sir, I think it would be best if you request a rewrite as early as possible, so-”

“You just don’t get it. I need it now.”

“Within four days-”

“That’s not good enough.”

And so it went. With little stake in the matter, Sao droned his lines, rephrased himself in as many ways as he could, eyes loose, letting his mind wander. What was for dinner? Did he leave the heater on at home? The days had grown warm, but the nights were still cold. How was it he recorded his phone screen, again? It was some option in the menus, not a combination of buttons...

Realizing that his listener was no more use to the situation than a sack of dough, the detective on the other end despairingly let the matter drop. “Please, this is very important. He needs to - just let him know I called, will you?”

“I will.” Sao refocused, not quite done with the thought of his phone. “Excuse me, before you go, are you currently at Central HQ? Would you happen to know if Van is available?”

“Van?” The voice rasped, as if the detective had aged ten years in ten minutes. Or had it been longer? “He’s out of office. On leave or something. On vacation.”

“I see.” Sao smiled. “We could all use a vacation right about now.”

“Tell me about it.”

Sao thanked the detective and got some mumbling that might have been a halfhearted thanks in return. Then he rebalanced the phone, and stepped over to the window behind his desk.

 The sky was dark, and the streetlamps were flickering on. There was something pleasing about seeing them blink on, one by one down the road and beyond. Like they had tiny wills of their own, perfectly coordinated. It was all automation by the city’s electrical network, of course, but it made a silent street feel just a little less lonely. Spurred by the little glowing faces that peered up at him, Sao started a brew of peppermint tea, finished his transcription and attempted to reward himself with some relaxation.

But what he did was open Cadoc’s video log. There was a new entry, no more than a minute long.

In his perfectly measured tone, Cadoc sat behind his desk and addressed the fans with some important news. “After recent events, I’ve decided to take a vacation.” A stiff pause. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I wanted to let everyone know, there won’t be any videos during this time. But don’t worry.”

Sao stirred his tea.

“I discussed it with management. We’re going to leave town and see the family. It will be nice to see the parents again before the finals.”

The teacup hit the table with a force that would have even made Rai jump. 

“Bye for now. Thanks for everything. With special thanks to...”

---

Back in the cold white hall, Sao looked out the large window, over the town in its opal twilight, and waited for Carme to pick up. 

“Hello, it’s me again,” he said. “You’ve been busy today. Sorry to disturb you, but I caught the last video and it made me very curious.” A taut laugh.

There was a long pause, this one so long he was afraid the call had been instantly dropped or somehow directed to the wrong place. But there was a sense of scuffling and shifting in the background, which indicated someone, at least, was on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Yes?” 

It wasn’t Carme. “Cadoc? Is that you?”

“Yes. I thought you’d be calling about the video, so I picked up.” Scuffing and murmurs, like shifting paper. And faint voices? “I know. It probably sounded odd. Bringing up the family.”

“After what we’ve heard from Carme, it did strike me as a strange choice. Your relationship with your parents isn’t exactly clear outside of what you told me, but...” The sight of the bridge putting up its nighttime regalia, a perfect orchestration of lights, soothed Sao enough to add, “never mind my fretting. It’s your business. I’m glad you’re both getting some time off, regardless of where it is. I just hope things go well for you.”

Now the city was lighting up, the wide flat docks and the distant skyscrapers.

“Sao.”

“Yes?”

“Do you think that I should get in contact with the old family? Should we feel that we owe our parents that much?”

“I - I don’t know much about your relationship, since you--” Sao stopped. “Hang on, the video -- I thought you said you were going to see them. Has something changed?” 

There was a pause so long that the sunlight had long faded when it was over. Sao was perplexed, but he didn’t for a moment think of hanging up. For some inexplicable reason he thought Cadoc might start to cry. But instead, with a faraway tone, Cadoc returned with, “Don’t tell anybody else this. And maybe you’ve already guessed. Saying we’re going to visit family - it was only a front.”

“A front.”

“Yes. It seemed like a normal thing to say. It was my idea. I don’t want the supporters to think we’re actually slacking. There’s been a few of them who ask why we don’t visit home. I thought it was a reason we could use. Was it wrong? It didn’t sound too unnatural, did it?” Some time to digest. “We’ll probably be headed to the coast, instead. Again, this is for your ears only.”

“Ah.” Sao dropped his shoulder against the window, watching his own mottled reflection. “Well, if someone snaps a photo of you there, I suppose questions might come up. But you do deserve a break - you and Carme- and - god, I was just discussing the idea of family vacations with my supervisor earlier today. Of course. Don’t I look silly for calling in a panic.”

“No. I was actually wondering if I should have been to one to call you. To say goodbye. We will probably be leaving soon.” A blip of hesitation. “Early tomorrow.”

“A quick decision. But don’t let me stop you - the sooner you go, the easier it will be to dodge the press.” Sao laughed again, and it came easy this time. He was imagining the twins at the beach - although again, all he could imagine was Cadoc, in trunks, donning sunglasses and a watermelon or two on the sand. Carme didn’t seem to be a fan of the sun. “Any idea what part you’ll be heading to? Bookings can be rough - I’ve heard from my old colleagues, anyhow. Of course, they were visiting the big towns. I hear a lot about the Gatherer’s coast...”

“Right. I’ve been there before - went with the family when we were little. Before...”

Cadoc wound down from that without elaboration. The air seemed displaced - for all his long deliberations, Cadoc rarely left a sentence unfinished.

“Before you left.”

“Yes.”

“Did you enjoy it then?”

“It could have gone better. Our parents didn’t like all the people - we didn’t even get to swim, but from walking on the beach, it looked pretty enough from far away.”

“Oh, no.” Sao waited for Cadoc to correct him, mention the good bits - but there was nothing. “Well, if it was that long ago, I’d say your due a revisit. It will just be you and Carme this time, then. Anyone else?”

“Just the two of us.”

“How’s she doing?”

“She is fine. Busy preparing for the trip.”

“What are you doing talking with me, then? You should get off the phone and help her out.” He laughed again. “Cadoc. Take it easy on her. She cares about you a lot. I can tell. And I know you would try your best for her, if it came down to it.”

That was a decent enough line to end on, but it hadn’t been enough for Cadoc, who had him hooked on another hanging pause. Silence. The longer he hung on, the longer Sao realized he wasn’t quite satisfied yet either.

“Cadoc?”

“Yes.”

“Earlier today, I had a video chat with your sister. That reminds me that I haven’t spoken to you face-to-face yet. So, how about it? Hope it’s not too off-putting to meet for real, just before we say goodbye.”

“Sure.”

“If you prefer not-” Sao bit his tongue. “What was that?”

“Give me a minute.”

Given Cadoc’s response rate, Sao was expecting to wait much more than a minute. But this time, all Cadoc needed was thirty-odd seconds. The small phone screen lit up with an image of Cadoc in the familiar wooden study, the lamp and plush chair behind him, although Sao noted that the cans and boxes had been cleared out or at least levelled below the camera. Cadoc sat exactly as he always did, his head at a slight incline, hands on the deks, his smooth face regarding his single viewer with the same unwavering calm that he utilized in the videos viewed by thousands, or millions.

“Well, then!” Sao said, “Mr North. It’s good to finally meet you.”

“And you.”

“So that’s where the magic happens, is it? Where the great Cadoc North makes his address to the public.”

“Please. I’m not some sort of hero.”

“Ah - I’ve heard that line.”

“Where?” Cadoc’s face was sublime with concern.

“At the expo…?” Sao smiled faintly. As with his sister, there was something disarming about Cadoc in person, despite his predictability, the air of someone who’d never so much as swing an arm out of form to bat away a fly. “I get it. The semifinals were just last weekend, but it already feels like years have passed. It was also one of the first bouts of competitive eating that my colleague Rai ever witnessed. Aside from the pregame event, but it really couldn’t compare.” His thoughts ghosted over Nero, and Kep and Basil. No vacations for them in the foreseeable future. “Central is lucky to have you, Mr North.”

He might have detected the tiniest hint of a frown. “Thanks. And Carme?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh. Talking to you just reminds me how much she’s helped…”

That was a surprise. He’d said it immediately, as if on instinct. Sao rewarded his consideration with his broadest smile. “Both of you should be proud. Of your own achievements, and each other.” He snorted at himself. “Waffling from a fan. I do wish I had a sibling sometimes.”

The pauses, which had been held at bay since the camera came on, were back. Seeing them acted out in person was mildly unnerving for reasons Sao could not put his finger on. Cadoc stared, blinked and said, “What is your family like?”

“Oh, not interesting at all. They weren’t pleasant, a bloodthirsty bunch you might call them, and not in a subtle way. But they aren’t exactly hounding me now, and I thank them for that, at least. I was effectively... disowned. It’s a subject I try to keep at arm’s length. I’m sorry - hypocritical of me to go nosing into your life when I know I wouldn’t enjoy the same treatment.”

“That’s fine. I don’t mind. Just curious to know more. And...” The cause of the shuffling noise was no more evident on-camera than off. But it stopped when Cadoc opened his mouth again. “I think Carme really likes you.”

“I’m flattered.” Sao’s smile held. “Should I give her a call tomorrow?”

“She’s here now.”

“Oh?” Sao blinked as a flailing hand flew over the camera, knocking into it with a thud as it retreated behind the scenes again, like a nervous bird. “Hello there, Carme. I hope you’re doing well.”

Cadoc gazed overhead as the camera was righted again. In the jerking adjustments from left to right, Sao saw a flicker of brightness, and when the camera steadied, he saw a sliver of pinkish-yellow light just barely visible at the edge of the room. The lounge?

Some scraping to readjust the recording. He had to wonder if the fidgeting noises had been Carme all along. “She’s shy,” Cadoc said.

“And no wonder. Then let’s withhold all gossip for now. I’ll speak to you when you’re back in Central, maybe.”

Cadoc smiled. It was a nice, firm smile that held no cards, suggested no secrets. It made Sao aware that he hadn’t seen Carme smile yet. “Yes. I’ll let you know when we’re back.”

“Please do. And Carme-” Sao leaned close and tilted his head, flashing one final smile, as gooey as he could make it, as if that would help it reach the listener who was out of sight. “Maybe when you get back, we can meet up for dinner sometime? Your choice.”

Cadoc maintained his placid, unmoving grin, hands laid on the table. From somewhere unseen, there was an exceptionally loud clatter and rustle, and he thought he heard the words, “Okay. Goodnight.”

The view went flying.

Sao blinked. Cadoc’s camera, which he now realized was the built-in camera of a laptop, was knocked forward in a flustered panic. It did not quite shut itself. Instead the laptop lid bent half-closed for a second, at an angle that gave a half-framed, fully focused view of the louge-turned-lab, its glaring light cutting through the provincial sitting-room like a doorway to the future.

Then the laptop was hit with another beat and snapped shut as intended.

Sao ended the call and watched nightfall descend.

A laugh lay on his tongue. All signs pointed him that way - he’d just managed to joke around with a minor celebrity, teased his sister like an old friend, and made what he hoped was a friendly reconciliation. The twins, for all their outward coldness, were human too. And now they were headed on vacation, on his advice. Some time in the sun and surf - and he was happy for them. 

But there was something in his gut that was putting him off, warning waves of nausea. Maybe it was the wobbling of the camera in those last seconds, or maybe it was something that tomato soup he’d had for lunch. Rai seemed immune to food poisoning, and thus favored cheap spots when he found them. And that particular noodle den, Sao knew, was not the most hygienic spot in all of the village.

Still, he was no stranger to risky eats himself, and it had been so long since he’d had this specific sensation that he couldn’t fathom what it might mean. He did not feel like vomiting, but his head was spinning, or felt inclined to spin, like it was twisted on the wrong way, and there was some constant distraction in the corner of his vision that he could not fully latch onto and expunge. 

Perplexed, Sao returned to the office. The smell of lunchtime’s tangy and sour soup was fading.

Only once he was seated did he remember to stop his phone’s screen recording. 

Feeling of a job well done? He grimaced. The writhing of his stomach was refusing him that, too. 

He’d gotten a better view of that Chimera machine - that much was true. Maybe now his guy, as Rai called him, could make an identification. But he lay the phone aside: better to avoid the jittering footage for now. 

Trying to dredge it up from memory, all he saw was a haze of grainy crimson. Tomato soup fog. Of course. That’s what he got from a cheap lunch.

Sao sighed. The weight of it all put him in the mood for a nap.

---

He woke to the sound of Rai blustering through the door. The lights snapped on. And in a shock of the senses, he smelled - could nearly taste and feel - the moist sponginess of minced meat. The smell of soup had long faded - what was happening?

“Do you want a burger?” Rai asked, holding up a damp paper bag.

“No thank you,” Sao croaked.

“Oh. That’s alright.” Rai turned the bag over on his desk and two disheveled shapes dropped out. Sao felt a slight pang of guilt for turning down the offer, but it paled in comparison to the queasy rush that swept over him when he raised his head. But Bluna Burger’s meaty odor made sure he wasn’t safe, even with his head down. He saw again the flash of red and winced.

“You doing okay?” Rai wrestled with the crackling paper, freeing a limp burger that threatened to droop out of his grasp. “I hope it wasn’t the noodles. That place is cheap, but I have to wonder where they source their pork...” He took a massive bite, lettuce and mayonnaise spurting out of the wrapper.

“Just a slight headache.” Sao stretched, first his arms and then his neck, but it wasn’t helping. “You got a call from HQ earlier.”

“Damn. I guess that explains your headache.”

“No, the detective and I came to an understanding in the end. He was quite accommodating.” Sao rubbed his eyes. “Cadoc put out a new video.”

“I saw.” Another sloppy bite. “Reading the comments again?”

“I didn’t think to look. He said he was going on vacation to see the family.”

Mouth full, Rai only raised an eyebrow.

“From what little we know of the Norths, that didn’t sound right. So I called him after that. He said it was a cover. That he and Carme are probably headed for the beaches instead.” Sao ran a hand through his hair, turning it over into to a sea of curls. “I don’t know. I thought it was strange to have to use their family, of all things, as a cover.”

“It sounds like a bland enough reason to give, even if he’s making it up.”

“You got it. That was exactly what Cadoc said.” He slumped into his chair, rocking himself left and right on the wheels. “I think he said they’re going to try the Gatherer’s coast. I hear it’s the place to be this time of year. I’m kind of jealous. I’ve never been to the South coast.”

“Don’t even think about heading there now. If it’s the place to be, crowds will make it just the opposite in no time. Did he already book the trip? Assuming he managed to get a hotel room within a day’s notice - I gotta wonder how much Cadoc’s making from all that eating.” Rai frowned. “Do you swim?”

“I can swim.” Sao flashed a flimy smile. “But I don’t. And maybe you’re right. All that flailing skin and limbs may not be the dream vacation.”

Rai grimaced as if flesh demons were invading the office at that very moment.

Sao sat straight. “That reminds me - Cadoc said he and the family visited there before, when he was a child. Before he ran away. But the parents didn’t want them swimming with so many people around. Can you imagine?”

“Yes.”

“That didn’t seem to put him off his plans, though. From what he said, he and Carme will be headed out of town early tomorrow.”

“Good for them,” Rai said, in a tone that suggested not much good one way or another. “How was the sister?”

“Fine, I think.”

“You think?”

“She waved at me when Cadoc called.”

“Waved…?”

“Ah, that’s right.” Sao hauled his body off the chair and reached for his phone. The full brut of hamburger odor hit him like a tanker. He coughed. “I had a video chat with him. He is, as you might expect, an interesting guy. And yes, I did remember how to record.”

“You recorded a personal conversation? Why?”

“For the sake of it. To remember the meeting of a new friend. To make use of knowledge, imparted on me by my supervisor. Screen recording really is a convenient function.” He pulled up the footage and panned to the end, where the doorway and its machines were in sharp focus, though tipped at a rather dramatic angle. “Don’t worry. I know well enough not to put this anywhere near the public.”

There was a huff through a mouthful of soggy bread. “Well, alright. Glad you had fun.”

The sound of chewing was tying knots in his gut, a churning darkness writhing its way up to the base of his skull. Sao closed his eyes and saw red where there should have been blackness.

“Why don’t you head home?” Rai said. “Get some rest. You don’t look so great.”

A rare suggestion from Rai. Sao must have looked completely haggard to have been caught napping and be recommended further sleep.

“Take the extra burger,” Rai offered, “If you want it.”

“No, thank you. You enjoy.”

But he could not keep his eyes from straying to the wrapped lump that lay sadly on the desk, its big blue lettering a forlorn call to him as he left. Sao made his way out of the doorway, bit the inside of his cheek, and backtracked to pick the thing up, covering it in tissue and stowing it into his coat.

Rai finished off his own lump. “Only if you want it.”

“I’d feel bad leaving it, after you took all the trouble to bring me one.”

Rai smiled sweetly in return (that was how Sao interpreted the show of teeth) and squashed his wrapper into a ball. “Enjoy.” He dragged the stained fast food bag over to his seat and began digging through its other contents.

Was there really more in there? 

Sao beat a hasty retreat before he could be offered any extras to enjoy. He was out the door and in the elevator before Rai finished his rummaging.

A surly crowd lined the bus stop, and all seats were fully occupied by the time he got on. The driver, bent over the wheel like a wilted plant, grunted at him to hurry the hell up as he pawed around for his payment card. To that, Sao smiled without hesitation, and he really was grateful. There were no facades here.

He leaned against the back rail until a seat freed up, and tried to sneak in a quick nap. But all the way home, the scent of cheap meat clung to his person like a persistent nightmare, alongside the visions of red. He couldn’t help but feel responsible for both.