Cheapdog (part one)

Sheepdog spent a little time cleaning up his place before Res was due to arrive. It wasn’t dirty, per se, but it hadn’t seen female company for quite some time. Sheep was too shy, too introverted, to get serious about pursuing the opposite sex, but he didn’t grow up in a jail cell. He knew a thing or two about what women expected in his place. Toilet seat down, with a clean surface. Replaced the TP roll. Paper facing out or behind? Out. Discarded a few little pieces of trash here and there, and polished the bathroom mirror briefly, which had a few specks of toothpaste scattered near the bottom. Next, he addressed the living room, where he spent a few minutes picking up discarded jackets and t-shirts that he intended to either fold or hang up anyway. What else. The kitchen? A quick once-over and everything was in order. This wasn’t a date, he had to keep reminding himself, he just wanted to make it presentable to company.

Just as the grandfather clock began pounding out the eight chimes for 8pm, there was a knock at the door. “Open up, it’s the police!”, Res yelled from the hallway outside. Sheep chuckled and let her in. “Not so loud Res, you’ll freak out the neighbors,” Sheep scolded her playfully as she plopped down on the couch. Sheep approached her and sat in his favorite recliner opposite of the couch, kicking the lever down so it would recline. “Just getting comfortable,” he said, “because I have a feeling this is going to take a while.”

Res stared at Sheep directly for a few moments, working out a witty retort, but nothing was there. She grinned and looked around the room. “You know, I’m not here often, but you seem to be pretty decent at keeping the place tidy. Ugh, I need to use the ladies’ room, be right back.” With that, Res popped up and ducked into the restroom. Sheep knew her all too well, mostly. He mindlessly thumbed the communicator in his pocket for a few minutes until he heard the sink faucet run then turn off. He turned to see Res exit the bathroom, cross the living room, and plop back down on the couch.

“You put the TP roll on backwards. If you had a cat, you’d walk in with a pile of paper on the floor and an empty roll,” Res said with a quick wink, “but I don’t see any cats around here, so you’re good. Funny how life has these little coin tosses that don’t usually make any difference one way or the other.” Sheep wasn’t in any hurry but he was kind of wanting her to get to the point. She was stalling. He said, “you can never guess what your guests will prefer. For me, I usually don’t even snap it into the roller holder. I don’t see the point. But I knew you’d have a preference. Speaking of preferences, have you ever thought about how towels and wash cloths should be folded? It’s an interesting topic, believe it or not. Everyone has their method, and they got it from their parents or siblings, and it’s their way. It seems really trivial, but people are genuinely annoyed when it’s done another way. It’s just a few bits of fabric that just have to fit into a certain space and I figure there are probably… well anyway, maybe it’s not that interesting to anyone else.” Sheep was losing his audience, but he knew when to stop. This was her turn. “Yeah, I’m sure there’s a manual for folding bathroom towels, with US GOVT printed across the top along with a document serial number,” Res said sarcastically. She paused and they both laughed at the absurdity of the topic, which, along with the timing, helped break the tension.

“Sheep, you and I have known each other for ages. We have usually been back-to-back, splicing narratives together, reviewing footage, solving mysteries and triggering actions. I’d say we’re good at our jobs. But,” and she paused to make bookend shapes with her hands, “I think you’ve locked on to something that is more dangerous than you recognize. You picked up on the scent and, like a bloodhound, you’ve actually made some progress sniffing out the source. Yes, I’m talking about the ghost footage.”

Sheep looked at her bleakly, feeling the mood in the room change. It felt like getting laid off, and she was the manager who, unfortunately, had to deliver the bad news. Yet, not before his curiosity was answered. “Res, this almost sounds practiced. You could go on and give me the warning, but let’s fill in some blanks here first. Number one, what’s driving this on your end?”, Sheep asked.

“Let’s just say,” Res said, “there are layers to the organization that aren’t obvious. We have our manager and he has his manager and all the way up, to infinity. There are also people that don’t get a Splicer paycheck like we do, but they still get paid. Off the books, mostly. Who do you think watches us, our manager? He’s just a necessary rung on the ladder. We don’t even need him, honestly. Due to the nature of our function at the company, Splicer can’t really afford to trust secrets and the level of things we access to simple middle managers. There’s another group for that. One of those group members has met with me, twice, and I don’t think he wants to meet with you.”

Sheep enjoyed the candor, the kind of real talk you can only get from coworkers that aren’t eating corporate soup for lunch and regurgitating talking points and vague hearsay which would be safe during testimony. This was the straight dope. She wasn’t sugar coating the message.

“So, am I to understand that this special team, that we knew nothing about before, whose job it is to watch the ASE’s for anything unusual, sent an agent to contact you in person, deliver a warning, and what…warn you again?”, Sheep queried. “If I didn’t know any better, I would expect these to be the rambling delusions of a psycho. Although, I do know better, so I believe you so far. What about the second meeting, though, if the first was a warning?”

“Well,” Res began, as she shifted on the couch, “yeah. It was another warning.” Res was carefully dancing around the whole ‘Dec came over and made me breakfast’ part. “Same agent. He visited me at home, very politely. We had a few drinks and he delivered the message as clearly as possible. He told me, and you, to stop pursuing this ghost. I don’t know what the big deal is, but it is a big deal, that’s for sure. It was also the last warning,” and Res made the shape of an O with one hand as she said, “we have zero warnings remaining. Next, there will be action. When, where, what type, none of that was explained. You know what Splicer is capable of, mostly. I don’t want to be an enemy of this outfit, if I can avoid it. I suggest you do the same.”

“Does Beat know anything about this?”, Sheep asked hopefully. “No, he hasn’t been mentioned. He’s not nearly as close to this thing as we are. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s as far away as we should be. The less we all know, the better. Whatever is missing from that footage needs to stay missing, and I can’t explain it any better than that, Sheep.” Res was ready to rest her case but she saw the wheels turning behind Sheep’s eyes. He was looking for an angle, he was curious. This had been his pet for a while. Suddenly, he kicked the recliner lever back up, so the chair back sat him straight up, and he leaned forward while staring at Res.