The
next twenty-something hours were a blur for Mel, going between pizza with Jess
to passing out on the couch from exhaustion to class and work in a haze,
running through the motions without any real thought behind them before finally
finding herself at 57 Pinemay Road, at 7:15 p.m. In the preceding hours, she’d
read and re-read Prophet’s note until it had reached the border of losing all
meaning. She had questions, and hopefully here she would find some answers. Mel
took a deep breath, counted to three, and gave a cautious knock on the door.
She almost wasn’t surprised to find the door open barely a second after her knuckles
had hit the wood.
Prophet’s
head poked out of the door for a second. Mel waited while he closed the door,
undid the various locks and latches, and finally re-opened the door.
“Hurry,
get in!” Prophet whispered. She entered the foyer as he closed the door
quietly. “Did anyone see you?” he asked, urgency almost overwhelming his desire
to stay quiet. “I don’t think so.” Mel answered. She’d done her best to make
sure no-one followed her, but it was generally pretty damn hard to be sure when
you didn’t have the faintest idea who might be following you.
“Right.
Answers. Who-“ was as far as Mel got before Prophet interrupted her.
“I
am Prophet, created as an experiment into what artificial intelligence might do
when given a body. The people who you dealt with in the alley last night are my
quote-unquote “caretakers” in the loosest interpretation of the term possible,
and I don’t look like a robot because of my shade. Those…were the three questions you were about to ask, were they not?” he
asked, raising an eyebrow. Mel looked at him for a second, before deciding that
there were at least two more questions before moving in for the big one. “How-“
Prophet cut her off again.
“How
did I do that? Statistical analysis.” Prophet started. “I’ve had approximately
twenty-three hours, one minute and 57 seconds to work through the most likely
questions you would ask, and in what order. People do not call me ‘Prophet’
simply because it sounded ‘cool’, Mercy." He glanced down to her to see a look that was at best withering. Prophet considered for a moment before speaking. "I should-"
"Stop doing that? Yeah." Mel interrupted. Prophet looked sheepish fr a moment before continuing. "To answer your other question, my
‘shade’ is a hard-light human façade to avoid my looking somewhat conspicuous among the
general populace. Allow me to demonstrate.” He lightly touched the tab on his
neck that Melissa had noticed in the alleyway, and the shade flickered before
disappearing.