Mus Numena 27: A Big Damn Challenge (Patreon)

The Dynamice are taken to the retreat that the Hackett Legal Foundation has set up in the Sierras. Ted is challenged by Hackett to think about his future—and Stan's own future plans are hinted at.

• • •

The bus took the most direct route from the Bay Area toward the Sierras, but not up toward Sonora the way Ted had traveled on the “getaway” with Aurora. When they hit Manteca, they took California 99, the Central Valley highway that had been the most direct north-south route before I-5 was built, down toward Merced, then east up into the mountains toward Oakhurst.

What remained the same, though, was the reaction of the Dynamice—all the Dynamice, from the stoic Adonis to a bubbly, girlish one who stood “only” about Ted’s height, even to two distinctly mean-looking ones who’d been scowling at all the humans and at Aurora initially. As they saw more of the world, much more than they’d been allowed to see in person until now, they were plastered to the windows with wide eyes.

Unlike Aurora on her first trip, though, they couldn’t answer all the questions they had on their own by accessing the world’s knowledge with a mere thought. That meant asking Aurora—first, just Aurora, but as she brought Ted and Sally and Finley into the conversation, the mice started asking the humans directly, too. Somehow, she had a natural talent for acting not just as tour guide and hostess but interspecies facilitator.

When they reached Oakhurst, they turned off the main highway and headed northwest, higher into the mountains, for another ten minutes along increasingly cracked roads. Finally, a high stone wall appeared on the north side of the road, and they stopped at an equally high metal gate, a manned guard booth behind it.

Ted hadn’t had much idea what to expect, and the driveway gave off vibes halfway between “exclusive billionaire community” and “armed cult compound,” although the guard booth didn’t look any more armored than that of a typical private parking lot. As the bus rolled inside and the retreat came into view, private parking lot started to win decisively. He ran a hand through his hair. “That looks, uh, a lot more like a hotel than I was expecting.”

“Yep,” the driver said. “Used to be a Best Western.”

Hackett stood just outside the hotel—er, retreat—entrance, along with a few folks Ted had never seen before, presumably staff members. As the bus came to a stop, one of them immediately headed to the back to open the lift gate for the giants.

The humans on the bus got out first, Aurora with them, but she motioned the rest of the Dynamice to follow. They did, but none of them made a move to go inside, instead simply staring. Turning around. Breathing deeply. One of them—the “short” one—looked like she was crying.

“Hi!” Hackett called, clapping his hands once. “Okay. When you head inside, Jan here,” he pointed at one of the humans, “will take those of you who got off the bus through the human-sized door here to your rooms. Bob,” he pointed at another, “will take the rest of you to yours. I have to warn you, we retrofitted those in the last three weeks, so they’re still a little rough. But we’ll work with you now that you’re here on improving them for you.”

The mice stared at him like he was an alien.

“In about a half-hour, I’d like you all to meet in the lobby here.” He pointed again. “I know you don’t have, well, anything. Clothes, possessions, except for a few of you who look like you’ve brought some small toys. Jenny, who’s the woman inside there at the table, will go over what we can get for you.”

They kept staring, until Aurora started motioning them inside after Bob and Jan.

“Okay. Welcome.” Hackett waved at them all as he walked up to Bishop. “This is gonna be a big damn challenge, isn’t it,” he muttered.

“I bet so.” Bishop hesitated, then pointed. “Jenny, as in the personal shopper from the hotel?”

“Yeah, we put her on retainer here for the next few weeks.”

“Like you’ve put me on retainer.”

“No, you’re an employee. Speaking of which, what are you planning to do about your apartment?”

He shook his head. Everything had come together in a blurry whirlwind: not just the retreat, but the offer to both Ted and Aurora to work there, with room and board as part of the compensation. Ted had packed nearly all of his clothes for the indefinite stay, along with his laptop and a few other gadgets he knew he’d want. Or at least thought he’d want. But he knew he’d have to go back to the apartment every so often. “I hadn’t really thought about it. The lease doesn’t come up for another four months.”

“You attached to the place?”

Ted shrugged. “As far as apartments go, it’s fine.”

“Yeah, I bet they can use that review in advertisements. Look, just break the lease. Move what you want here—your room’s furnished, but we can empty out whatever you don’t want—and put the rest in storage. If you want to move back to the Bay Area later, just find a new place.”

“You make that sound so easy.”

“It is. Hell, we got storage here.” Hackett shrugged. “If you plan to keep your place. I own three places, I can’t say shit. It’s just worth deciding whether you’re that interested in going back to that specific flat, right?”

“I guess.” Ted sighed, following Hackett inside the hotel/retreat. “You own three homes, huh?” Inside, the place had a definite “western lodge” vibe, a three-story-high ceiling for the large lobby and lobby bar, big fireplaces, a second floor with hallways that overlooked the lobby as balconies—all made of wood and iron.

Hackett waggled his hand in a sort of gesture. “The house is the one in Woodside. I have a condo in Hawaii and an apartment in Paris, and none of them are as big as I bet you’re imagining. The Paris flat’s not even a thousand square feet, the condo’s maybe fifteen hundred.”

“The house?”

“About three thousand square feet on two acres of land. Absolutely killer views, great architecture. Designed by a guy who studied with Frank Lloyd Wright. Not famous, but he figured out how to make all that shit work, not just look pretty.”

“That’s…smaller than I’d expect for a billionaire.”

Hackett shrugged, heading toward the staircase. “Billionaires like to have big shit because it’s what billionaires do. They don’t stop and think, ‘how much space do I really need,’ they think ‘how much space can I afford,’ and the answer is: all of it. All the fucking space. Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

“But you stopped and thought that, huh? Why?” They walked up to the second floor and headed off to the right.

“The smartass answer is, I’m not a billionaire. But I’m like, I don’t know, a third of the way there or something, which is just way too fucking much. And I guess what I thought is…” He trailed off, frowning, then spread his hands, looking at Ted. “That it’s way too fucking much. It’s ridiculous that it’s possible for me to have this much money.”

“I mean, I can see that, but you earned it.”

“Bullshit.” Hackett stopped at room 216, at the end of the hallway, and handed Ted a key. Not a key card, an actual, physical key. “Maybe I earned a few million, sure, but ninety-nine percent of what I have just came from being in the right place at the right time. I got a few good breaks, I made a few cutthroat deals, and I learned that a lot of venture capitalists are very stupid people. They were just in the right place at the right time, too, but they’re too fucking arrogant to admit it. So you have people like Walter Lucas, who mistake being born with a silver spoon up their ass for being once-in-a-generation geniuses.”

Ted unlocked the door as Hackett was talking and headed in. Yep, a hotel room, but designed for long-term stays: a full kitchen that merged into a small living room with a built-in desk, and a separate bedroom area. The appliances looked relatively new, belying the faux-rustic decor. It’d pass for a studio apartment, and a nice one at that.

“I’m gonna head down to the lobby bar,” Hackett said. “We just re-opened it. Found a great bartender in San Francisco who’d gotten burned out and wanted to move to the middle of nowhere.”

“You didn’t open it just for the mice, did you?”

He laughed. “We’re ramping up more Foundation work here. I’m gonna be in residence at least every third week. The mice are welcome to join us for cocktails, though.”

Well, that couldn’t lead to any disasters down the road. “Okay. I’ll be down in a bit, I guess.”

Hackett left and Ted started unpacking his suitcases. The closet was full-sized, with enough hangers to be useful.

After about five minutes, someone knocked on the door. Before he could respond, the door unlocked and opened. Aurora stepped in, walked to Ted, and gave him a hug that lifted him a half-foot off the ground. “This is incredible!”

“Yes,” he wheezed, hugging back as she spun around before setting him back down. “How are the other Dynamice handling everything?”

“I think the best word is ‘overwhelmed.’ Like me, not that long ago, all at once seeing the world outside those lab walls and being treated like…like people.” She furrowed her brow, tail flicking back and forth. “They have had longer in captivity, been more aware of how bad their situation was, and been aware of me, too—until their nanotech was shut off, because of my escape.”

“Wait. They don’t blame you for that, do they?”

“I don’t think so. They blame you.” She raised a hand quickly. “Not you, personally, I mean, Ted, I mean—”

“Humans.”

“Yes. I think the people they’ll meet here will give them a better view of humanity. They haven’t had many good examples apart from you.”

“Other than a few who talked to me on the bus—barely—they don’t know me.”

She nodded. “Yes, they do. More than you probably think.”

“That’s…disconcerting.”

Aurora laughed.

By the time they left the room, the other mice had gathered in the lobby, with Jenny in the middle of a brief presentation. She looked just a little shellshocked; Ted suspected that even if she’d been warned how big some of the mice were, that didn’t prepare you for actually seeing them. Not to mention seeing them all attentively focused on you.

True to his word, Hackett was in the lobby bar, standing and chatting with a tall, shaggy-haired person in black jeans and a faded blue denim jacket. He waved Ted and Aurora over.

“This is Angel. They’re new to the Foundation. Angel, this is Ted Bishop and Aurora.”

“Hey.” Angel smiled, but didn’t extend a hand. Kind of a tomboy-slash-punk look, Ted decided, with a definite accent on the punk provided by rings in both eyebrows and lower lip.

“Hi,” Ted said, almost simultaneously with Aurora’s “Hello.” The mouse held out her hand.

Angel hesitated a moment, then took Aurora’s hand, looking up at her. “You are…wow.”

“I know I’m not the first Dynamouse you’ve seen.” Aurora gestured toward the crowd in the lobby.

“No, but you’re the first I’ve been introduced to. Touched.”

“So you’re a new employee with the Foundation?” Ted half-grinned. “I guess I am, sort of, but you probably have a job description.”

“Angel’s the AI guru,” Hackett said. “But the real stuff, not all this chatbot shit.”

Angel laughed. “Stan means I focus more on symbolic logic research, but I dig into machine learning, too. And nanotechnology.”

Aurora’s eyes widened.

“They’re probably the best at that combination outside Nanolabs. Or inside, possibly.”

“The full name of the foundation is the Hackett Legal Foundation, isn’t it? Civil rights and animal rights? What are you here for?” A distinctly wary tone crept into Aurora’s voice.

Angel blinked, then shook their head, raising both hands. “Nothing bad, I promise. I hope the opposite. We want to get you connected again, Aurora.”