Unforeseen Dives – 22a – Confusion

<< 21b – Party

I wrestled up all my will to get in the office on Monday. I would gladly have dwelled in the weekend’s good mood a little while longer. Who wouldn’t? I left the celebration of a friend’s hard-earned health to try and stop a war from being born.
“Talk about a hard snap back to reality,” Rebecca muttered as she dropped in the chair next to mine. She extended me a cup of coffee and hugged hers. “Where are we even supposed to begin?”
“I guess establishing our department’s modus operandi is part of our job as well. I wonder what the FBI guys are doing.”
“I’m confident they’ll come nagging soon enough.”
Half-way through our coffee, we finally decided to head for Casey’s office: I needed to know what my schedule looked like before I undertook anything.
“Well. We’re having your ‘We have the cure’ speech here on Tuesday night.” Casey flipped through a big organizer that sported my name.
“That isn’t a problem.”
“You’re live on Debbie’s Friday morning so we have to leave for California Thursday evening at the latest. Ideally, I would like to have you there Wednesday so we can get you on the radio as well.”
“When do we investigate? While we sleep?” Rebecca crushed her empty coffee cup and threw it neatly in the garbage can.
“Doing my best. Have my orders too, you know.” Casey dived into the organizer, the ruffling of paper furnishing the awkward silence. “The radio can be cancelled but the higher-ups will scold me if I do it. And they might force me to book you more next week.”
Casey closed his book and we all shrugged. The non-readers didn’t really believed Maeve’s omen. Why would they make it a priority in my schedule?
“Fine. Let’s keep the radio. I’ll see Daniel about having a desk and a chair set up for us in the Los Angeles office.”
Casey and Rebecca look at me with sheer astonishment.
“That’s my girl,” Rebecca cheered.
“You’re going to request a psychic’s working station to be set up in a FBI field office?”
“They want me to multi-task? They’ll have to do their part.”
Casey’s laughter followed us out of his office. We stopped by Daniel’s on the way over to our department. I stated what I wanted and he promised to take care of it. No arguments needed; he trusted Maeve’s vision. I knew he would fight to get my chair.
On the way out, a thought struck me.
“Daniel, is Maeve already on her post-omen time-off?”
Daniel put down the phone he had just picked up to call the people who could make my Californian temporary office happen.
“Indeed. Are you requiring her presence?”
I pondered for a moment. I wasn’t even sure why I asked that first question anyway.
“Nah. But would you let me know when she comes back? Just in case…”
“Sure!”
Rebecca and I left after the appropriate thank you.
Our “department” welcomed us with open arms. I wasn’t sure our office deserved such a title. It was the third brother of Aaron’s and Daniel’s offices. Spacious and wide-windowed, it occupied a corner of the building. Rebecca and I shared a mahogany desk. We didn’t need two. We had a lounge like the bosses’, only a bit smaller to leave space for my chair. Obviously, I could dive without it now but sustained diving wasn’t easy without support.
The carpet’s gray brought its boredom in every office. Rebecca had argued for the original white walls but I won her over with light blue. I would have chosen something warmer but Becky didn’t budge when I presented them.
We added Rebecca’s framed poster of James Dean by Andy Warhol and my cheap replica of a Salvador Dali. We might not have the money to put some real paintings on the walls but at least the place felt homey. It definitely belonged to us. If senior management didn’t agree with that, they just had to bite their fingers for bestowing me a grand space in case a reporter wanted an interview in my work environment.
“Wanna try quick diving down our options?” Rebecca settled down in one of our couches and fixed her gaze on the ceiling.
Right, we still didn’t know where to begin. Prompt diving in potential futures to narrow down our paths could speed up the process. I complied with Becky’s demand.
Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply and released the wall around my brain. The Ocean flowed in strongly, almost drowning all my senses, and then equalized. I explored a couple of possibilities; in-depth diving, coordination with the FBI, research, calling on Maeve… Everything turned up the same conclusion: too much of a long run for prompt diving to be efficient at this point.
Rebecca listened in on my results. “Figured as much. Scuba gear?”
I nodded. She rose to prep the chair. As usual, she double-checked every wire, adjusted the inclination and powered the thing. We hadn’t done a real dive in over a month yet fell right back into our routine.
The last dive was for the New York bombing and Becky hadn’t been able to hold through it all. I knew she was thinking about it and I mentally ordered her to stop. She cocked an eyebrow and shrugged off her doubts.
I tapped the control panel and completely turned off the auto-filter. I didn’t want to miss anything and I had the strength to take it all. I shouldn’t have to go all the way to the blood bath anyway.
I laid back in my chair. The headband hummed and slowly lulled me into the Ocean. Rebecca gripped my hand and I felt her presence coating me to ease my descent. I soared in the Ocean’s waves. It didn’t ebb the same way it did when I prompt dived. This was smoother. Safer.
I pushed my thoughts and feelings aside to concentrate on the sea of futures around me. There were three main routes to explore: the future of readers, of non-readers and, to help narrow down the best approach, the future of our department’s of PSI.
Rebecca didn’t like the idea of me diving into her future.
To be quite sincere, I wasn’t intrigued about mine either.

22b – Confusion >>