Peppermint

Interlude 10 - Woe Has Joined

Hacking was enough of a challenge for Ahmad even on the best of days. But when he came up against obstacles like the ones Kristoff was throwing at him today, he wished, more fervently each time, that he could do the impossible and hack time. According to Josh, there was a guy in the Terminal who could do that, but it was a rare power, one he was born with. As "born" as someone could be in the space between universes, Ahmad supposed. Though who knew? Maybe that guy, Rishi or whatever his name was, could teach him.

Ahmad sagged against the back of his seat. Despite the cold, a cold which the SUV's heater could barely compensate for, he was sweating into the upholstery something fierce. This, plus lingering traces of caffeine in his system - he hadn't fueled up in almost twelve hours now - conspired to dehydrate him. He was ready to crash, but he knew he couldn't. If he crashed, there would be nobody to stop Kristoff from reinstalling the virus tricking all the alarms into going off region-wide. Assuming, of course, it was really Kristoff playing this game and not some underpaid lackey just doing what the hell he was told.

"Here." Firdaus dangled a candy cane in front of his nose. "Fuel up a bit, huh?"

He unwrapped the brightly-colored snack and slid it into his mouth. Being a miniature one, it fit - barely, yet completely. "Thanks," he said, embarrassed by how it sounded more like "Fangzh" because he was talking around a foreign object.

Josh, of course, side-eyed the candy cane as he tended to do with any and all Christmas decorations. Nevertheless, when Firdaus offered him one as well, he accepted it. "Where'd you get these?" he asked.

"I didn't," she said. "Michael did. He bought them from some boutique in the city, right?"

Michael scoffed. "I wish. The Salvation Army would never buy from any bloody boutique."

"You stole from-?"

"Oh, please." Michael unwrapped a cheap mini-cane of his own and held it between his fingers like it was a cigarette. Great, now Ahmad found himself again tempted to smoke just from watching Michael's...wait, not "embouchure." Oh God, now that stupid scene from Alien: Covenant was in his head. "I'll do the fingering." What would be the fancy French way of saying "fingering," though? He thought back to his high school French. "Finger" was "doigt," so..."endoigture?"

His tablet beeped at him, reminding him that the firewall around Kristoff's own firewall-penetrating drill (not to mix his metaphors too much) was about to start rebuilding. So he typed away, wishing he had an honest-to-goodness laptop so he could hear the actual sounds of keys clicking. The little haptic buzz of touch screens, somehow, wasn't nearly as satisfying while he was conducting such serious business.

"Come on, Mike," Josh groused. "Just 'cause the Salvation Army hates us queers doesn't mean we should steal from them!" He opened the window and threw his candy cane out onto the concrete freeway divider to his left. "I can't eat this!" he yelled in response to everyone's cries of horror. "This is blood candy!"

"Almost literally," Ahmad muttered, "judging from the taste." He considered for a moment, then threw his own candy cane away, but not before biting off the very tip and pressing it to the roof of his mouth so his tongue could melt it down. Better that than take the risk that someone would drive over his candy cane carcass, its straight end already sharpened after nearly a full minute of licking, and get their tire punctured from it.

As he looked to see the backside of the San Mateo county line sign, he stared skyward and prayed, again, that someone could teach him to hack time. Not because he wanted to go back and prevent Kristoff from pulling any of this shit off, but because he just wanted to get to the party's destination a little sooner.

Speaking of which, he needed to make sure Alex knew to meet them there. He should have no problem getting there by wing. At least the skies over the Bay were unexpectedly clear of angels, though of course flying wouldn't do an angel much good when they were expecting a nuclear detonation to fry them from behind any second.