Like the leather jacket, Calypso was dressed in plum. As to exactly how much, only her tailor knew, and Colinaude remarked that it somehow seemed less than before. Cassie pleaded ignorance and then claimed it was all in the interest of providing herself with an advantage. A distracted foe was a defeated one, feminism be damned. That was the rationale, anyway. Colinaude was enough of a professional to not be distracted himself, and actually found himself wishing Cassie wore a little more, in almost a fatherly instinct, which was a little absurd because they were not that far away in age. Regardless, Calypso and the Eidolon united to seek out Viper, whom they mutually considered to be the Cad’s most imminent threat.
"I think I’ve been working a few things out," Colinaude said.
"That’s good to hear," Cassie said. "So you won’t have anything getting in your way? Nothing to distract you, I mean?"
"That’s the hope," Colinaude said. "Although I’ve been dealing with this stuff for a long time. And all day. I’ve been managing."
"Managing is not really good enough," Cassie said. "You can do better than that."
"I could think f a few things you can do better at as well," Colinaude said.
"I really wish you wouldn’t go there," Cassie said.
"I think I’ve said that today too," Colinaude said. "I’m concerned you’ve been making your own compromises."
"You wouldn’t know the first thing," Cassie said. "I did research. You’re making assumptions."
"But they’re assumptions," Colinaude said, "based on intuition. It’s hard to go wrong with intuition. I’ve tried. It doesn’t work. Tell me about Mr. Dawes."
"Bobby is none of your business," Cassie said.
"I could have said that dozens of times," Colinaude said. "In fact, I more or less have. And that never stops anyone. You want to say it’s none of my business? I think I’d like to make it."
"Please," Cassie said.
"No," Colinaude said. "You wouldn’t be able to trust me if I didn’t."
"That’s absurd," Cassie said.
"It’s the truth," Colinaude said. "And you know it. So tell me. Tell me about Bobby."
"There’s nothing to say," Cassie pleaded stupidly. They were engaged in Colinaude’s traveling technique. Despite the fact it was after dark, he always traveled that way, as sort of an insurance card. He was mildly surprised Cassie was able to keep up, but he also found it perfectly natural for her to be doing so, like they’d been doing this for years. They went on silently, their game continuing. It seemed for every moment they spent probing each other, another moment was spent with each pretending they were exactly what they were: complete strangers who really didn’t know anything about each other. What they did know, it was from seeing it in themselves, and strangely that seemed enough to bridge the moments together. "Okay, so there is.
"Bobby came along at sort of the right moment. I was trying, and failing, to cross from one lifetime to another. Calypso was me, even before I had ever known her, had ever been her. When I made the choice to leave her behind, I realized I was leaving myself behind as well. I had to reinvent myself, experience a rebirth, in order to feel complete again. I couldn’t stand feeling hollow anymore. Cassandra Holweger managed to do that by meeting Bobby Dawes.
"Bobby was a successful graphic artist. Sometimes he designed blueprints, other times greetings cards, but Cassandra Holweger came to know him as the man who created subway ads. She first encountered him on the subway, in fact, as he was admiring some of his own work. Her first thought was that he was a self-absorbed jerk, and when she said so after he caught her staring, she found he was also self-deprecating. That made him charming, too," Cassie said. "Sweet, isn’t it?"
"I suppose so," Colinaude said. "There’s got to be more."
"There always is," Cassie said. "Bobby wooed Cassandra Holweger, and set her on the course to that wonderful new life. In gratitude, she even followed in his line of work. This did not, in the long run, work to their mutual advantage. As it turned out, Bobby’s ego was real, and it was a healthy one, which turned out to be a factor when it turned out I was good at his job."
"So he’s a jerk," Colinaude said.
"I didn’t say that," Cassie said.
"I’m pretty sure you did," Colinaude said.
"It’s something we’re working on, Cassie said. "We’re working on it. Don’t worry about it."
"I will," Colinaude said. "Worry about it. In the meantime, we have the Cad to worry about."
"The Cad," Cassie said. "Yeah, so I’ve got a contact we’re going to see who will be able to fill us in on a few things. You might be familiar with him. Don’t call him Sandy. He hates it."
"Nick Sanders," Colinaude said. "A.K.A. Silt, the Sand Man. How did you ever manage to track him down? The guy’s more elusive than even I am. If there’s one hero I’m at all interested in working with anymore, it’s him. But I’ve never been able to find him."
"Feminine wiles," Cassie joked. "You’d be surprised at who hangs around museums. Nick’s mostly in retirement now. Being a Sand Man takes a tremendous toll on the body, something the brochure doesn’t tell you. He’s moved on to more of a support role, but spends most of his time in leisure pursuits."
"I have a reporter friend," Colinaude said, "or at least I hope I still do, who could have easily told me about this. He never did."
"That’s too bad," Cassie said. "What do you mean, ‘at least I hope I still do’?"
"Let’s say he’s being used as a bargaining chip in this tryst with Ramirez," Colinaude said.
"That’s gotta suck," Cassie said.
"I hope it sucks more for me than for him," Colinaude said. "It’s one of the reasons I’m anxious to close the deal on this villain."
"Villain," Cassie said. "Do you use words like that often? Was I a villain? It sounds cartoony, like something you’d read in a comic book."
"Well, this is no comic book," Colinaude said. "But sometimes you have to call them as you see them. If it sounds funny, then that’s just how it sounds. Rodrigo Ramirez, the Cad, is a villain. I wouldn’t go so far as to call him a super villain. But compared to how heroes like Godsend see him, I suppose he’d be."
"You dodged one of my questions," Cassie observed. If she sounded breathless, it wasn’t from their pace, brisk though it was.
"Did I consider Calypso a villain?" Colinaude supposed. "I guess under the circumstances, I would have to say yes. But there are always degrees. Villain is a generic term."
"So is hero, I guess," Cassie said.
"I’d call you a hero," Colinaude said.
"I’m flattered," Cassie said. "In a generic sense."
"That’s why people should never talk," Colinaude smirked. "Their words can so easily be used against them."
"It’s not just words," Cassie said.
"Where are we headed? That’d be nice to know," Colinaude said.
"To the museum," Cassie said, not being aware that she had been leading them, though she had been the whole time. Perhaps neither had noticed. "Didn’t I say Nick liked to hang out there? It’s sort of like a second home for him. Almost a first one now. He says he’s losing form more and more everyday, says he’ll eventually become just another mound of dirt on display. Luckily he hides in the pieces, and not on the floor. Wouldn’t want a world famous hero being swept up by a janitor and thrown away like garbage."
"Though it would seem an appropriate metaphor," Colinaude said.
"For what?" Cassie said.
"For life," Colinaude said. "I’m one of those people always looking at the bright sides."
"I believe it’s called pessimism," Cassie said.
"You’re being generous," Colinaude said. "Most other people would have suggested fatalism."
"I’m a generous person," Cassie said.
"Most people who knew the Cad would probably say the same about him," Colinaude said.
"Then I mean it in the generic sense," Cassie said.
"Touché," Colinaude said. "I suppose Nick has something for us."
"He said he did when I talked to him last," Cassie said. "It sounded urgent, like he was almost afraid."
"That seems to be a common reaction today," Colinaude said. "Cad has an associate, whom I believe is the reason he’s elevated himself so quickly, who has elicited the same kind of reaction from a contact of my own."
"They don’t call them villains because they’re nice people," Cassie said. "Which I would suppose would mean I’m suggesting I wasn’t nice myself."
"Correction," Colinaude said. "Cassandra Holweger wasn’t nice. Cassie Dawes is."
"And I thank you again," Cassie said. "You’re a regular sweet-talker. Which means I shouldn’t trust you."
They were approaching Traverse Memorial Nicholas E. Poliquin Museum. It only seemed fitting they were there to meet someone named Nick, considering. Cassie was on intimate enough terms with the building to know alternate ways in, some she’d learned in her previous incarnation as Calypso, and some she’d learned working there as Cassie Dawes.
"There’s one thing I don’t understand," Colinaude said. "You told me before that Bobby wasn’t the reason you’d been able to turn your back on your previous life."
"I meant that," Cassie said. "Do I really have to spell it out?"
"No," a new voice said. It belonged to Nick Sanders, and Silt the Sand Man was pouring himself through a keyhole. "I’ve unlocked the door for you. Please come in without further delay."
"Hello," Colinaude said.
"There’s no time for pleasantries," Nick said. "Rancor is dead, courtesy of our friend Rodrigo Ramirez. I’d say our stakes just got bigger."
Colinaude did not need to be told twice. Those illusions of his were about to be shattered.
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