[The Worm — 12.01.2011 — Wednesday]
In the morning, I first stopped by the bank and withdrew every single dollar I had from my account. Then I returned home, applied a basic disguise, and drove to a gun store to buy the best bulletproof vest and tear gas spray available without a license.
It consumed almost all of my money, but such were the inevitable and unexpected peculiarities of the Cruel Intentions universe.
Back home, I spent the remaining hour carefully rewatching the movie and rereading the psychological profiles I'd assembled for the main characters.
When the time came to enter the Cruel Intentions universe, I stopped its time flow and, for a few minutes, just stood near the Gate. Unable to bring myself to confirm the transition.
After all, from Sebastian's perspective, I was essentially an alien. And to the United States of the Cruel Intentions universe, the equivalent of an alien invasion. If something had gone wrong after I left...
'I'm often glad that I'm not a fanfic character. But that also means I can't use fanfiction as a guide for my behavior.
At first, the idea of just handing Sebastian the tablet with the movie seemed obvious. But if in fiction such things always work mainly because of Plot Armor, how could I know what I should do in situations like this without it?'
I sighed and shook my head.
Even if I'd made a mistake, unlike in the Ducky Dive case, it was far too subtle to justify starting over from scratch.
So I took a deep breath and activated the Gate.
⸻⸻x⸻⸻
As soon as I arrived in the atrium, I immediately tried to make full use of the few seconds of obscurification effects and quickly examined my surroundings. Fully expecting to be swarmed by local Fox Mulders at any moment.
It didn't happen.
Then I tried to find anything that wasn't there yesterday, potential hidden cameras.
Also noting.
At first, I felt relieved. Then the relief was suddenly replaced by a treacherous sense of disappointment upon confirming that, for the foreseeable future, I would have to rely solely on myself.
Which — after I remembered exactly who those mythical "adults" I wanted help from actually were — turned back into relief.
I opened my profile... and surprisingly, universe status had changed from Yellow to Green.
'But what am I surprised about? I basically A Christmas-Caroled the two main characters by showing them their tragic future, and I literally handed them the most valuable object on the planet. What more significant thing could I realistically have done? Show them alive ALF?'
⸻⸻x⸻⸻
As I exited the atrium, I breathed another sigh of relief upon spotting Sebastian. Standing in exactly the same spot as yesterday, alone.
As I approached, it became clear that in the past twenty-four hours, his swollen face hadn't touched a pillow for even a second.
I walked up to him, ready to deliver my prepared speech, when he got ahead of me and asked in a tight voice, "Who are you?"
'If only I knew myself...' I thought and settled on a compromise answer, "Just a human with unusual technology. I'll explain in more detail later. Did you tell anyone about me?"
"No. Only... Kathryn" He practically spat out the last word. "I showed her the movie. As you said," he said in an uncertain voice.
"I'm correct that you and Kathryn live in the same house owned by your parents, who are currently away?"
Sebastian nodded. "Yes. Your name is Max, right? Because I poorly remember what was before... the movie."
"Right. The mansion; what's the chance there are cameras or microphones in the building that you don't know about?"
Sebastian frowned. "I can only speak for my quarters. Yesterday I would've laughed at that question." He paused. "But now... if there is anything there, it'd be Kathryn's doing."
"Good enough. Therefore, let's talk there. Kathryn's there, right?"
Sebastian gestured broadly toward his car.
"She's there. Get in."
We spent the drive to the mansion in silence.
I didn't want to distract him from driving.
And Sebastian for this far too well understood Politics 101. You can treat people however you want, but the more dissatisfied someone is with you, the harder it becomes to get what you want from them. Therefore, the best strategy for dealing with a potentially metaphysical entity was to just shut up and do what it wanted. At least until you learn more.
So for roughly fifteen minutes, I had the opportunity to quietly enjoy the beautiful scenery of downtown New York. But I used only half of it.
About five minutes after we left the parking lot, my eyes began watering. At first, I blamed the wind. But the overwhelming exhaustion, the heaviness in my chest, and the chaos in my thoughts made me realize something was very wrong.
For a moment, I panicked that I'd somehow been drugged. However, my knowledge of Self Defense, Information Security, and Chemistry strongly suggested that, so far, I had not noticed a single hint of anything suspicious in Sebastian's behavior or my surroundings.
So I turned my head to the right and used Self-Therapy to figure out what the fuck was going on.
It turned out I was experiencing something akin to a mild panic attack. Its catalyst was a rather stupid misunderstanding. My subconscious had very conveniently forgotten that I couldn't remain in other universes any longer than I could remain in Worm one. So part of me had suddenly felt immense relief because 'everything was over; I'm in a place that Scion and the Reapers can't reach.'
Suddenly freeing me from the burden of responsibility for billions of lives that had been constantly weighing on me. Along with uncertainty, fear of mistakes, and the duality of both my need for a sexual outlet and the absurd dangerousness of any romantic attachments and influence on my decisions.
'Fucking hope,' I thought, and after a few minutes of measured breathing, I shoved everything back into the darkest corners of my subconscious.
While Self-Therapy did provide knowledge about problems and methods for resolving them, unfortunately, it couldn't just magically slot that knowledge and methods into problems like a missing puzzle pieces. All results required considerable time and effort. Both of which I had a little less of with each passing day.
⸻⸻x⸻⸻
Soon, we arrived at the magnificent Valmont mansion.
After passing two security guards, we climbed to the second floor and entered 'Sebastian's quarters,' a luxurious, spacious living hall connected to no fewer than five rooms.
Sebastian asked whether he should bring Kathryn, and after receiving confirmation, left me alone in the lavish room.
I sat down on a sofa in the center of the room and studied the decor for less than a minute before Sebastian returned with... a woman who looked like Kathryn Merteuil, but was at least a decade older.
Whatever had happened between stepsiblings over the last 24 hours, it had obviously required an enormous amount of cosmetics to cover up.
Soon, the two of them sat on the sofa across from me.
Kathryn immediately warmly smiled and seemed about to speak, but Sebastian cut in first, accompanying his words with a loaded, almost hateful glance at Kathryn. "Do you know anything about microphones or cameras in the mansion?"
Kathryn barely reacted. "Max, I welcome you to Valmont Mansion," she said with a warm smile. "I want to thank you for such an enormous revelation provided by your beautiful film." Then she lowered her eyes and, in a shameful voice, continued, "It gave me so much food for thought regarding my shortcomings. But it's difficult for me to imagine a more valuable gift than the opportunity to see myself from the outside." Then she looked directly into my eyes and sincerely stated, "Thank you for this, Max. Truly. I owe you a great deal for this. As for Sebastian's question," she continued, "Despite what was shown in the movie, I swear that right now I know absolutely nothing about microphones or cameras in the mansion beyond those installed by the security staff around the building perimeter. And I swear that anything I hear or see here will remain in absolute confidence." Ending her 'no room for error' performance with almost a vow and an apologetic smile.
And for the second time that day, my brain glitched.
For several seconds, everything felt unreal, absurd, and unimportant.
Her lack of real sincerity, bad makeup, the obvious fear hidden beneath her facade, her similarity to Buffy, the overall absurdity of the situation, and many other unidentified things that, for some reason, inspired in me not a desire for her, but a billion times more welcome desire for sleep.
I involuntarily yawned and rubbed my eyes tiredly, thinking that perhaps I indeed should choose Gregory House's or Sheldon Cooper's company instead. Or just grab a universe from the 2010s and ask forums for the best build for my situation. What the hell am I even doing here?
"Something wrong?" Kathryn asked in a concerned voice.
"No, just... tired, the same as you. Don’t mind," I said, taking my hand away from my face and scanning them again with weary eyes.
"Let’s get straight to the point," I said, delivering my prepared lines. "As I told Sebastian, I’m human. And I have no intention of harming you or anyone else. Quite the opposite, I’m here to offer cooperation that you can refuse without any consequences.
My story is somewhat absurd, yet as real as the Cruel Intentions movie.
About a week ago, for reasons I don’t know, I ended up in another world. An extremely dangerous world. Like in comics about superheroes. DC, Marvel, and such.
Cons? I lost the biggest part of my personal memory, except for everyday things, skills, and hobbies. Also, in two years in my world will occur a clusterfuck apocalypse with no simple solutions.
Pros? I acquired several superpowers. One of which allows me, and only me, for a material cost and for short periods of time, to travel between fiction universes."
"Like in Sliders?" Sebastian asked, his eyes lighting up with an ‘aha!’ moment.
"Yes. Or like in Quantum Leap. Or the movie Labyrinth. Or any story that mentions the Multiverse concept, like The Chronicles of Amber. Does any of that sound familiar?"
"Sliders? The one with O’Connell and the TV remote-like thing?" Kathryn asked.
"Yes," Sebastian and I said at the same time.
"Wait... any universe?" Sebastian asked in an awed voice. "Like, absolutely any?"
"The more dangerous the universe - the higher the cost. Sometimes in billions of dollars. But yes. Which brings me to my main point.
Between all worlds, I can transport only one kilogram of local raw resources per day and whatever I bring from my main universe. Yeah, I know, it sounds anticlimactic, but it complements my other powers. Sorry, no further details about them for the time being.
So, I required a universe that would conveniently provide me with conventional resources. And I chose—"
"Ours," Kathryn said eagerly.
"Something I saw as convenient for me," I cut her off and laid down the main condition for cooperation. "A universe with smart people. Where I can use my essentially genius programming skills and 2020s knowledge. And for many other, less important reasons."
I paused, expecting Kathryn to seize on "other aspects" opening and start maneuvering over it, so I could grab her by the metaphorical scruff and, from the very beginning of our relationship, cut at least some of her manipulative bullshit.
But she was too smart to show her cards in the first few minutes of conversation with a superpowered dimensional hopper. Sebastian was smart too, but also angry, so he decided to use this chance for some revenge.
"Let me assume, if you don't mind, that one of these reasons is... stress relief through local entertainments?" he asked in a neutral voice.
"Yes. I'm blunt, one of the reasons indeed, the three main heroines. Yet, the word 'less' from 'less important' isn't an understatement. So, if you want to keep Annette—"
Sebastian interrupted me again. Or rather, for the sake of a less threatening impression, I allowed him to start doing so, "No-no-no," he shook his head. "I don’t want anything to do with the person I'm from now on will associate mainly with my stupid death. Take her for yourself, and if you’re not afraid, this snake too."
Of course, Kathryn reacted. "Snake? You still haven’t been redeemed by what I also had before the movie plot and by a narratively convenient taxi, Sebastian. So don’t act like you’re better than me, jackal," Kathryn shot back.
"Will it be a problem for you to work together?" I seriously asked them.
"No, we can have a fully professional relationship without problems. No worse than in any other such Cruel Intentions universes. You can travel to them, too, right? 'Horizontally,'" Sebastian hurried to reassure me and change the topic.
And Kathryn immediately added, "It wouldn't be a problem in the future. Now we're just still too shocked by the movie."
I nodded and answered Sebastian's question. "Sort of. For travel, I require knowledge of renowned artwork. But I'm not limited to one iteration of the same universe."
"Man, you have no idea how jealous I am. Any boy and man would be," he joked, efficiently selling to me 'your best pal experience.'
"Don’t. It comes with many obvious and hidden costs, making it far from the typical conditions required for 'happiness.'
In due time, perhaps I would agree with you, but right now my situation consists almost entirely of an endless list of complex problems and tasks that are often linked with poorly predictable dangers. That makes my long-term survival rather questionable."
I added some grim to what, at first glance, seemed like a fully positive situation. After a short pause, I shook my head and continued, "Anyway. Before I present my offer, here’s additional proof of my statements." And started pulling from my backpack a handheld game console, two MP3 players with 2000s music, cape almanacs, political magazines, and other small items like hero-related sweets.
⸻⸻x⸻⸻
"I still could imagine the existence of similar super-secret military tech. But the idea that paper-pushers agree to use it and billions of taxpayer dollars to make one handheld console full of good games? Nope, it's even more absurd than your story, Max," Sebastian said thoughtfully, according to the sound, while playing a racing game.
"And all these proofs still aren't fully comparable to a movie," added Kathryn. "Considering, for example, students' faces during a funeral, it should be at the level of 'Kubrick's Moon landing hoax.' Just to deceive two people... although rather outstanding ones... No, it's real," she said, flipping through magazines and listening to music with one earbud in.
Then she looked at me, smiled gently, and enthusiastically said, "So, what do you need from us, boss?"
Sebastian also raised his head with interest.
"For obvious reasons, I’ll rarely visit this world. So I need people who carry out the tasks I assign.
At the same time, I don’t need yes-men. On the contrary, I need people who can offer a different perspective. So, my proposition is very simple:
I assign tasks, and you complete them. With the possibility of constructive criticism for their correction; or outright refusal after an explanation of your reasons.
Your base rate will be $25,000 per week.
But the more efficient and convenient for me will be our cooperation - the more I reward you above the base rate. Entirely on my terms.
Besides this, I require that our relationship have a healthy level of straightforwardness. I wouldn't be mad if you push your own agenda or don't disclose it; you are people, after all. But I would be mad if you deliberately fake your agenda. Or avoid discussing worsening problems out of fear of my reaction, or in hopes of outmaneuvering me. More so, do any form of sabotage to my efforts.
Also, no absolute political or economic monopolies, including the idea of becoming or controlling POTUS or such. In this case, for you and for me."
"Why? I mean… you might be the best thing humanity has ever had in this reality—" Kathryn started, and I cut her off.
"Because I don’t want for others what I wouldn’t want for myself. And I don't want to be ruled by some super entity. Which doesn't mean that my, our, influence on this Earth would be insignificant. Such significance just wouldn't be taking over."
Sebastian mused, "Thereby, 25k per week, plus bonuses; our upright managerial and advisory work with career growth up to CEO of the biggest corporations in the world, but no more than that; because you require resources which you could allocate by 1kg per day, and some entertainment. Right?"
"Yes. Considering that your help is critical mainly for the kickstart of things, these conditions are more than fair and nonnegotiable," I said, stopping their hopes for more, at least at the very beginning.
"I’m in," Kathryn said aggressively, trying to squeeze any extra benefits from the deal, and leaned toward me with an outstretched hand that I soon shook.
"I’m in too," Sebastian added after a slight hesitation, and also shook my hand, after which I continued, "Now, about an additional proposal for Kathryn.
$25,000 per week plus bonuses for 24/7 sexual submissiveness. Of course, limited by 'The Aristocrats Clause.'
The agreements are reconfirmed each week and only for one week. With the possibility to exit the arrangement with repayment of money for the used days, but with a one-week cooldown before the next such arrangement." I gave them time to process my words, during which Kathryn frowned, and Sebastian smiled lightly and murmured to himself, "25? Half of my car..."
"Is it negotiable? I mean, the conditions seem rather harsh," Kathryn cautiously asked.
"No, it’s nonnegotiable."
"It's because of the movie? If so, the movie deliberately showed my worst sides at the worst possible moments. When—"
"Worst sides?! Cut the crap, Kathryn, or do you think that out of greed I'll automatically start playing on your team?" angrily shouted Sabastian. "Don't believe her, Max, she's even worse than you saw. Even if you don't require it, I will still create for you an even better version of my journal from the move. Mainly for the sake of my security."
"Good idea, Sebastian! Let's see who lists more. Just remind you, only in the movie you did more amoral shit than me! Poor girl's nudes; Greg's blackmail; boozed and perhaps raped Cecile; constant deception and pretense!" Kathryn began to pronounce obvious counter-threats, but I stopped her.
"No. It's not because of the movie," I denied, making them look at me in surprise. "I know rules. Any extra degree of freedom would mean more opportunities to exploit uncertainty to sway my emotions. With each swing, deepening my attachment and adjusting it to the outside agenda.
In other circumstances, I would have just shrugged and accepted the game with great interest. Looking to find out who would swing whom the most, and to what beauty and horror this would lead.
But, I'm sort of a handler and producer of nuclear warheads, so I just cannot play with such power and responsibility. Literally cannot, right now, my subconscious sees ANY of such influences as attacks. So, this proposal is all I can offer to you, Kathryn."
Both of them slightly opened their mouths, not at all expecting such an outright showdown from me.
A moment later, Sebastian chuckled. "Man, I just started to worry she'd eat you alive."
"May I think about it?" Kathryn asked in the most neutral tone possible.
"Of course. Take as much time as you need."
"And if I say no, what, no hard feelings?" she asked with a hint of uncertainty.
I had already opened my mouth to answer, but Sebastian spoke before me. "Hard feelings? You're not listening. Max already said it, Kathryn, he is here for the sake of three heroines, two of whom most likely played by more successful actresses. And all three of them are unimportant objectives for him because, in the near future, he could just visit an absolutely identical universe to ours."
I responded by making a gesture toward Sebastian with an open palm, showing that he is right.
"He's fully wrong, isn't he? The actress who played me just cannot be less popular than the others, right?" Kathryn asked with surprisingly poorly hidden curiosity. Causing in me some brief reminisce about Buffy the Vampire Slayer series. The best holistic, realistic, alive collection of urban-legends tropes ever produced. Sentimentality toward which was at least half of the reasons why I ended up in this universe.
"Let's leave that a mystery for now," I teased her with a faint smile.
Kathryn exasperatedly and disappointedly sighed.
"Well. You asked to be straightforward, so I will be straightforward. Such conditions aren't something I would agree in... ANY other circumstances. But since you say that if I don't like something, I could stop our game at any moment, I don't see any reason not to try and see how comparable our kinks are. I accept your terms," Kathryn said with a mix of aggression, shyness, and playfulness, and for the second time in 10 minutes, extended her hand to me.
Such a scene should have stirred so many anticipated emotions in me, but for some reason, it just didn't. Perhaps because of too much more greed than I expected from her.
I shook her hand, then looked her in the eyes and said, "You know, the people who are most afraid of death are usually those who never really lived."
For a moment, her mask cracked so much that it was visible even through layers of her women's war paint.
"What do you mean?" she asked innocently.
Sebastian chortled and, again allegedly to himself, said, "This is even better than the ending of the movie."
I continued, "Kathryn, you're insulting the intelligence of all three people in this room. I'm not saying you are entirely wrong. I'm just saying that your obvious end goal isn't fully right.
I'm not making you, or anyone else, the immortal queen of this world. Period. At most, give a little more time.
For a price.
The more time you will have - the more you will fear death and fear to live.
And despite anything, your great win would still pass like a single moment."
"And what would my 'fully right goal' should be?" she asked defensively after protracted silence. "Spend all my life smelling flowers?"
"No. But the stronger would be your ambitions and delusions that you 'won the game' by your luck - the more they will devour everything else, including, eventually, themselves. Which will be even worse than your hyperbola about flowers."
"But not in your case, did they? Ambitions. You have an unlimited choice of possibilities. From which you could find the right path. So this, purely theoretical, is possible for me too," she discarded pretense and countered with a very good point. And perhaps at the most important moment of her life.
"There is a Chinese fiction genre, Xianxia. Fully dedicated to people in search of immortality and who live in an environment that could give them such. But only if they do everything they can to achieve it.
Do you know what happens to Xianxia's people who spend everything on the pursuit of immortality and finally attain it?
They either become like animals, impersonations of insatiable greed and deceit.
Or living aspects of other vices, virtues, passions; essentially elementals.
Or, even worse, to preserve at least some part of their humanity, they stop developing, turning into overpowered caricatures of their former selves.
So far, I still haven't found a flaw in those outcomes. From a logical perspective, of course.
If a person has unlimited memory, then they aren't a person anymore.
And if a person has limited memory, the more they spend their mental resources on implementing and maintaining complex theoretical dreams, the more they tend to fill their heads with niche, one-time, outdated trash.
So, my sincere advice to you, 'Marcia fucking Brady of the Upper East Side.' Try to find the best things in your life as they are right now, and don't stray too far from them for the rest of your life in pursuit of 'greener grass on the other side.'
Because such 'greener grass' always takes a toll on what you already have.'"
"How do you know?" she asked uncertainly, "From Chinese fiction? But life isn't fiction."
"Life isn’t fiction. But literary consensuses created by millions of people who know a little about themselves, and therefore about human nature, cannot be too far from reality when it comes to human nature and its limitations."
"So what exactly do you need right now, Max?" Sebastian asked.
Kathryn shot him a heated, disapproving glance and said, "Yes, Max, how can we help you right now?" And fluttered her eyelashes seductively, clearly testing her new status.
After a brief pause, I nodded to Sebastian, confirming that I agreed with him rather than simply following his suggestion, and began rummaging through my backpack.
Soon, I pulled out two sheets of paper and handed one to Kathryn, subtly rebalancing the hierarchy that had tilted a little too much in Sebastian's favor.
"First of all, I need money. Which will, obviously, be repaid at double value. Pardon my bluntness, but what kind of figures can I realistically count on right now?"
Sebastian, while trying to peek at the list in Kathryn's hands, answered, "I don't know what impression you got from the movie, but we don't have any independent income. Everything we own is either something we cannot sell or gifts from almost entirely my side of the family. Mostly valuable items, the sale of which would significantly devalue them.
Also, until now, we didn't really have a reason to accumulate money instead of spending it," he said apologetically. "So, right now, in liquid cash, I have around thirty thousand. Plus approximately seventy-eighty thousand in sellable assets, most of which are in the car. Kathryn, of course, has much less."
"Spoiled brat," Kathryn said irritably. "I have maybe fifteen thousand in cash. And another thirty in jewelry and artwork. Which isn't much, but what Sebastian forgot to mention is the possibility of borrowing from his relatives and using our credit lines.
With this... let's say we could give you 5,000 in hard cash today, 25,000 tomorrow, 50,000, overall, within a week. And if needed, another 100,000 by borrowed money. Would that be enough?"
On which Sebastian added, "I wouldn't be so optimistic about borrowing money, at least without some problems with parents, but she's right about the other part. Of course, if you want to avoid our relatives' attention."
"Can you describe the situation with your relatives in a few words?"
"In a few words? Rich, alive, grandpa with a big real estate company. Three siblings with their own... departments... who are eying control over inheritance. Not in conflict so far, as I know, but not very friendly with each other. My father is the official executive, yet not the most loved by grandpa. It's enough?"
I nodded. "Yes. And the numbers you named are roughly what I was expecting. Don't take any loans for now, and avoid creating unusual legal paper trails. Which leads to the second item on the list.
My interdimensional travel power can create legal identities for me during my first visit to a universe." Sebastian whistled. "But the identities it creates are surely very basic. Almost certainly the 'unremarkable orphan' ones. Therefore, before we start talking about the business side of things, we need to create a good legend for me that would withstand at least a journalist's scrutiny.
Here is my best shot so far:
'Annette wrote a manifesto about virginity. Kathryn disagreed with it and reached out to her. They argued, then decided to create something more balanced and constructive.
For this, they wanted to create a good website and needed a programmer. Someone told them about a brilliant self-taught programmer whose ideas they started funding.'"
"But for that, we'd need to bring Annette into our little conspiracy," said Sebastian.
"Yes, that is the third item. Sebastian, as I understand it, Annette already lives with your aunt, right?"
"Yes. For at least a week."
"Great. Theoretically, can I visit her at the estate tomorrow?" I asked.
"Yes, but this likely will cause questions from the guards, aunt, and perhaps uncle," Sebastian answered.
"And how difficult would it be to bring her to this room tomorrow? Your visit, showing of these items and part of the movie, an invitation to meet their owner."
"You want us to tell her the truth?" Kathryn asked in surprise. "Are you prepared for the possible repercussions? Judging by the movie, she's a total goody-two-shoes. The type who is most likely to turn you in just to keep seeing herself as an upstanding citizen."
"Yes, she is a goody-two-shoes, but that's exactly why I want you to be as blunt with her as possible. And tell her that cooperating with me would give her the opportunity to do more good and right things. For example, through access to important medical studies from the future."
"Wow..." Sebastian said with admiration. "You want us to use some 'cancer kids' leverage?"
I was reluctant to admit it, but that interpretation struck a little too close to the mark.
"No, that's too much. Without burdening himself financially, your father almost certainly could save the lives of dozens of children from poor countries every day. But instead, he does what? Occasionally attends a charitable event for various indirect benefits to him? And nobody asks, 'Hey, why don't you save children if you can?' I want something like that. I could do good things. I will do some good things regarding some nasty future shit. But if someone wants more, I'm ready to... trade it for additional incentives. Do you get me?"
"We know what you're talking about, yes, we will try to persuade her with something like this, but can you give us something concrete? What exactly can you 'trade' or 'prevent' so we have reserve leverage just in case?"
Several times, I tried to formulate an answer in my head, but failed. On the one hand, I wanted to ensure cooperation from Annette and reduce the risk of her — not betrayal, of course, or even overreaction — decisions unfavorable to me.
On the other hand, leveraging millions of lives over a good person from the very first minutes of acquaintance was a rather villainous move. Essentially blackmail. Before now, it hadn't sounded so bad in my head, but in reality...
I massaged my eyes. "Okay, my inner moralist says that bulldozing Annette with a proposal about saving people's lives is immoral, so here's a more moral alternative — for her and me, of course, not for the millions of victims of our moralizing.
Just tell her that I live in 2011 right now. That my original reality was in the late 2020s. And that soon I will visit a universe in the late 21st century. Tell her that I know a lot of things that could help humanity. But if she decides to notify the authorities, I will just suddenly disappear, and all the consequences will be on her. Also, the more satisfied I would be with cooperation, the more I would relate to this world and listen to her opinion on its betterment. But if she doesn't want to cooperate with me, she could just do so. Like in real.
Fuck, but then you, perhaps, start subtly blackmailing her... aren't you... just don't. At least, if you weren't sure she would contact the authorities.
And yes, I know that this is mental gymnastics and avoidance, but as a temporary solution that would preserve some remnants of normality and comfort for me, let's go with that."
It seems that in this case, my Persuasion Roll was rather low, because both of them looked at each other with a rather smug half-smiles, perhaps thinking about my naivety, hypocrisy, and that they got at least some leverage over me. Pricks.
But hey, I know me better. If I could reduce the risk that, at some critical moment, I would be visited by memories and guilt about blackmailing a good person, I should do so. At least a little. It wasn't just about emotions but also about mathematics and the "If It Works, Don't Touch It" philosophy.
"Yes, good solution, we will tell her something like that. So, now the fourth item, right?" Kathryn asked and looked at the list in her hands.
"Yes," I confirmed.
"It wouldn't work," said Sebastian, looking at the list too. "I do indeed have spare rooms for you, but I can't just forbid the maids from cleaning my quarters and order the guards to ignore even one of your suspicious disappearances from the mansion.
Kathryn and I also can't just suddenly move out without arousing our parents' suspicions, and risk that they hire a private investigator," said Sebastian, and thereafter we started discussing a place for me to stay. A topic that needed resolution before considering the other items on the list regarding resources and machine tools I would require in the near future.
At some point, we relocated to Sebastian's computer and started looking up rental agents' phone numbers. While Kathryn began calling them in search of something near the Valmont mansion, which was literally located in the most prestigious part of Manhattan, overlooking the very heart of Central Park.
After a little more than an hour, we found a promising apartment nearby and arranged a viewing for two hours later, which we spent discussing the details of our collaboration and the peculiarities of both of my worlds.
Among other things, I clarified the situation with the Sebastian therapist and her daughter.
Sebastian wasn't an idiot and had published only erotic photographs, which he sorta had the legal right to do 'as the photographer who had received verbal permission from the model.' Of course, after just one day, the situation was far from fully resolved, but the likelihood of a lawsuit was very low.
Later, we took a ten-minute walk to a nearby skyscraper and examined a three-bedroom apartment for rent.
Despite the rather steep price of $4,500 per month plus another $4,500 for the security deposit, in the absence of alternatives, Sebastian paid the check and handed me $5,000 in cash.
Then, despite Kathryn's numerous hints about "helping me settle in," I said goodbye to both of them, and the moment I closed the door, I quickly undressed, lay down on my new bed, and had the best sleep since the start of my transmigration journey.