“Yes, the ants were quite agitated and happy about so much food close to their nest.”
George shook his head. “When we looked at the place where Lilly was supposedly kidnapped…?”
“The bees and worms remembered. Time frames can be a bit tricky with insects, they have no concept of time as such, but Lilly was kidnapped a year before, with only one winter in between, which made it easier to verify.”
“And the Lion Man being somehow weak?”
“There was a flea on Mia that had jumped from the mask to her. It showed me a bag of undesirable blood because of anemia. That’s how I knew.”
“When you say it like that, it all makes sense.” This time George opened the bottle and took another gulp of water. To Andi, he gave the impression of a detective who was following an impossible lead because he was desperate and had run out of options. There still was no anger, though, and no shouting, so perhaps this would end better than he would have dared to hope. “How did you find out about the orgy?”
“Our leads were drying up in front of our noses, what with the cell being stolen and none of the guys we arrested being directly involved with the organization of the trafficking ring, so I opened myself. I don’t like doing it, you’ve seen what happens, but I felt I had no choice. Usually mygeschenkis limited to a half-mile radius around me, though I can extend it. I knew I was looking for a person with anemia, probably in the vicinity of drugs, which to certain arthropods have a unique signature. I found the lead to the house in Berkeley and, well, the rest you know.”
“But none of the people we arrested seemed to be anemic.” George furrowed his brows, latching on to possibly the only logical thing in their discussion, at least from his point of view. How Andi envied him his simple world view where logic led a person to secure conclusions and allowed them to make deductions about the world around them. He had never had that luxury, his world always standing on shaky ground where logic was anchored in the needs of beings whose perception was so different from what the human brain was capable of that trying to align the two was an exercise in futility. Explaining it to somebody who had no idea how to look at the world from a different perspective than the one they were used to was insanely difficult. Andi had no words because words described things humans could grasp. He tried regardless.
“As I said, insects have no concept of time. It could be the person had been there while I was searching, or a few days before. I just knew he’d been there, and when we got close, I could feel the presence of the children. That’s why I insisted on staying and scoping the place out even though it looked deserted.”
“Okay, let me sum this up. You have a hereditary condition that manifests as a connection to insects which helps you solve your cases and find leads where normal detectives would run into a wall?”
“Yes. It’s a bit more complicated, and I resent the term ‘condition,’ but speaking in cop terms, I’m using arthropods as my informants.”
George took another swig from his bottle, shook his head when he placed it back on the counter. “I don’t know what to say. This seems more outlandish than my alien theory and yet it’s kind of logical. I’m just not sure if I should be freaking out or being amazed.”
“I don’t have an answer to that, George.” Andi felt a little bad for his partner. He could see George struggling with the information, his rational brain trying to process it in a way he could cope with. It was a strange feeling, seeing George like this. Andi had never told anybody about his gift before. His parents had known before he was born, his mother telling his father to prepare him for the possibility, and his father’s abysmal reaction was something Andi had grown up with, so he had been used to it. His granny had found out on her own, never judging him for something he had no power over. Her reaction, too, had not been triggered by him coming clean. George was the first person Andi saw working through the realization of what he was, what he could do. It was frightening.
George’s throat worked furiously. “I guess it’s too much to imply you might need help from a shrink?” Andi could hear from his tone he didn’t want to be offensive, which was why he squished the spark of anger igniting in his chest.
“Believe me, if I thought doctors of any variety could help me, I’d already be in treatment.”
“This is at the same time better and worse than what I had imagined. You’re not an alien, which is good, I guess. And you’re not corrupt, which is splendid. I was really worried about that. But you talk to insects.” George seemed very hung up on the alien part. “Can you prove it? Because what I’ve seen so far does fit with what you’re claiming, but it would also apply to you being psychic or… or….”
“An alien?” Andi couldn’t suppress a smile. It was obvious George didn’t want to mention it again.
“Yes. Whatever. So, proof?” George looked at him expectantly. Since things had gone way better than Andi had feared, he decided a little demonstration probably wouldn’t hurt.
“Fine.” He closed his eyes, more for dramatic effect than out of actual necessity, and let the always present cluster of images and impressions at the back of his mind come to the fore. “If you go outside into the front yard, there’s a black widow’s net in the Southern Magnolia to the right, at about hip height. She’s just eating her partner after copulation. You should be able to see her when you turn on the porchlight.”
George gasped. “No way.”
“Go out and take a look.” There was a moment’s hesitation; then George went for the front door. He came back a couple of minutes later, his eyes wide with wonder.
“You were right. There wasn’t much left of him, but she was definitely eating another spider.”
“Told you. Now, if you go out into the garden, straight to the gazebo, and turn left, you’ll see a flower bed with lady ferns. There’s a dead mouse full of maggots and crawling with ants.”
George went without a word, pulling his flashlight from his belt on his way out, and came back soon after, not bothering to hide the mixture of agitation and awe in his voice. “How do you do it?”
Andi raised a brow while tamping down the input he was getting from the arthropods all around them. “So you believe me?”
“Yes. I mean, there is the—admittedly very small—possibility that you saw the spider when we came into the house and that you found the mouse before you left the house today, but why would you leave a rotting mouse in the garden, and when we arrived, you were too agitated to handle your keys properly. Plus, the spider would have been eaten by now. So I’m almost completely convinced. The rest is just me being a cop, as you probably can relate to. Now tell me how you do it.”
“It’s not so much a question of how I do it but of how I keep the overflow of information in check.” When he saw George’s confused expression, Andi went on. “Thegeschenkisn’t something I can turn on or off. It’s constantly working, and the best I can do is dampen the flood of images I’m getting.”
“That’s why you look tired so often, isn’t it?”
“Yes. It’s exhausting to be guarded all the time.”
George shook his head. “Man, I can’t even imagine. It certainly explains your charming personality. If I were in a state of perpetual information overload, I’d probably kill somebody.”
