Participants:
| Scene Title | Propaganda, politics and Piccoli's Sandwiches |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Cat makes enquires about Ygraine's encounter with Peter. Ygraine geeks out… and possibly ends up with a job offer, of sorts. |
| Date | September 16, 2008 |
The ever-popular St. Luke's Hospital
St. Luke's Hospital is known for its high-quality care and its contributions to medical research. Its staff place an emphasis on compassion for and sensitivity to the needs of their patients and the communities they serve. In addition to nearby Columbia University, the hospital collaborates with several community groups, churches, and programs at local high schools. The associated Roosevelt Hospital offers a special wing of rooms and suites with more amenities than the standard hospital environment; they wouldn't seem out of place in a top-rated hotel. That said, a hospital is a hospital — every corridor and room still smells faintly of antiseptic.
Monday has passed the torch to Tuesday in this week, and the time is approaching ten a. m. when the call comes from Catherine Chesterfield. This time she wants food from Piccoli's, stating the order has already been placed and will be ready for pickup, and another batch of books. This time the subject matter is plants. Three possibly thick ones on that subject have been purchased and are waiting at the same store as the first trip. This time, also, the woman asked for a specific courier. She wants her items delivered to the cafeteria at St. Luke's Hospital by Ygraine FitzRoy.
As the woman taking the call warned, there is a slight extra delay beyond what might have been expected as Ygraine completes her prior job, returns to base, and then sets out once more for the food, books and hospital… but soon enough a familiar figure in black lycra stalks into the hospital cafeteria. Her helmet and gloves are slung from straps on her backpack, the wrap-around shades left in place for the moment as she wends her way through the tables, chairs and more mobile obstacles in search of Cat.
She's there in the hospital cafeteria, the same exact woman who was spoken to on that prior occasion. Cat is standing near a table in the corner, one at which people might sit and not draw much attention. She's not hard to spot, however, given that she's on her feet and someone the courier met before. She has a copy of the New York Times spread out on the table, her backpack is in an empty chair.
But something is different this morning, it's in Cat's demeanor and features. She looks stern. Displeased. When she spots the courier, an amount of money is taken from a pocket, fifty dollars, and placed on the table. Her greeting consists of a single word. "Sit."
One brow rises into view above the frame of the shades, but Ygraine delays before obeying the command - setting her bag onto a chair and unpacking the array of burdens onto the table before folding herself onto a seat. "What's wrong?", she enquires quietly.
When the courier sits, Cat also sits. Her eyes rest on the other woman, studying her for some moments of silence before she speaks. "I have questions," she begins. "The day we spoke, I'm told you made another stop at this hospital, and this time entered the patient ward. The room of a patient, at that. Is this correct?"
Ygraine pauses, then chuckles softly. "As a result of a man who faded from view before my eyes, I opted to follow a succession of doors that opened without apparent cause. What was I going to do? Tell security that I _couldn't_ see an intruder and that they ought to watch out for someone invivisble? Your scarred friend has some interesting tricks up his sleeve, but needs to pay more attention to basic techniques if he's to remain unnoticed. I figured that it made sense to follow him while I could - try to see if he was up to no good."
She listens in silence, Cat's face still showing that stern expression, as she assesses the woman's truthfulness over the course of ten seconds. If she's intimidating, well, that's her goal at this point in time. "Interesting," she finally comments. The expression softens, she becomes much more like she was at that first meeting. "I'm wary of people entering my friend's room without me knowing about it. I had made arrangements to have the door covered, but on that occasion those arrangements broke down. I am grateful to you for your conscientiousness, Ygraine. And I have made other arrangements, with hopefully more honest parties."
Ygraine frowns, apparently studying Cat for some few moments before she reaches up to remove the barrier of her shades. "I had no idea whose room it was. And he didn't exactly seem forthcoming with… the best of reasons for why he chose to enter as he did. Nor for why I should trust him. Right now, the major thing he has in his favour is that you seem to like him, from what I've seen. If you've made arrangements for more diligent protection - that's probably good, if your friend needs it. I have the impression that she might be in a certain amount of trouble."
Her voice is kept at a volume where only she and the woman across from her can hear words spoken at this table. "I have my suspicions about the cause of her injuries," Cat replies quietly. The face in speaking of this perhaps betrays a measure of concern. "So I'm careful about things regarding her now. I apologize for the harshness I greeted you with. But I take things around my friend very seriously. She's my closest, most trusted friend." And Cat takes a long pause.
"The things you saw him do, I hope will remain between the three of us. I've no interest in government attention being called down onto my injured friend over the issue of unusual abilities. Or onto anyone else. The Linderman Act is, to me, null and void. It's Gestapo law, a Nazi statute, and I've no intention of honoring it."
Pursing her lips, Ygraine eyes Cat with wary interest as the lawyer talks, her voice pitched just as low when she responds. "Spoken like someone who expects to have a very personal interaction with its requirements…. Your scarred friend was musing that your SO was able to do odd things, but might it be you?"
She chuckles quietly. Nothing is said to deny the question of Dani being a significant other, but also nothing to deny it. Cat will apparently let Ygraine define things however she will sans comment. "There are four possibilities here," she states calmly. "One is my friend has an ability which falls under the Gestapo Act. Another is I'm the one with such an ability. The third is you have such an ability. And the fourth is you and I both are Evolved. If the third or fourth is true, you may or may not know you have it." Her eyes watch the courier as silence returns. Cat isn't asking whether or not she has something, it's no stretch to conclude she's already made her decision on that score, given she knows her friend. It seems the choice of whether or not to come clean is left with Ygraine, she won't be pressed. She hasn't herself confirmed or denied anything, notably.
Ygraine lifts her brows. "Now… that's an interesting list. It doesn't include the possibility that it was all your scarred friend… which is interesting, since everything I saw him do could be attributed to gravitic manipulation. That says a lot about your trust in him…."
Her head tilts to one side, watching the courier in silence again briefly. "How would invisibility be explained by gravitic manipulation?" Cat's mind is considering the possibility, at least apparently, if the pensive expression she adopts is any clue. "But the fact you know what it's called by a technical name says some volumes about you and your interests, along with the motivations for them, as well." Her lips spread into a smile. "It's not really important if you have an ability, or I do, or my injured friend does. What's important is looking out for her safety, which you helped do by going into her room. Thank you again, so very much. Part of that is not having the Gestapo descend on her over a suspected ability, or anyone else for that matter. Whether or not you have anything is your business. No jackbooted government thugs will be told anything about you. At all."
Ygraine shrugs gently. "Part of the benefits of a broadly-based educational system. I could have gone to a top university to read a science subject rather than an arts one. And there were news articles not too long ago about moves towards the development of "true" invisibility: rather than mere transparency, true invisibility requires the bending of light around an object rather than mere translucence of the material itself. The existing force in nature known to bend light in an arc is gravity. Likewise, gravity is theorised to be a route towards manipulation of the space-time continuum - and your friend at least _appeared_ to teleport. That, or self-destruct, I suppose…."
The Brit shrugs once more, offering a wry smile. "I'm a nerd, and come from a country far more politically liberal than this one. I have broad interests, and I think that our previous meeting should have made it clear that I'm a naive idealist with dreams of making the world a better place. As for looking out for people… I can't claim any direct interest in the injured party. I had no idea where your scarred associate was going…. But I _am_ glad that you're not angry with me for ending up there."
"It's a sad story, what fear does to people," Cat muses. "Because it was an Evolved person who caused all this destruction, all Evolved people are somewhat feared, and the Gestapo Act reflects that. It's the start of a modern day witch hunt every bit as pernicious as the ones that happened at Salem, Massachusetts and in Europe during the Inquisitions. One of the central stories in US history is the various struggles to apply those lofty words from our Declaration of Independence, to make them be true in law and practice. This is just the latest of civil rights causes. I have to hope most people will realize the simple truth: there will always be someone to fear, someone to blame, and to accept government actions like the Gestapo Act and enforcement of it is to authorize them to eventually come for everyone at will."
Another shrug from Ygraine. "US governments have tended to find it very worthwhile to have a bogeyman with which to scare the public. Some distant, managable threat that "requires" massive spending and a greater degree of national unity. Having established the paradigm that massive force and direct intervention under a fluttering Stars and Stripes is the only way of dealing with a serious threat, it's no surprise that an internal threat results in people flocking to support a stupid piece of legislation that panders to their fears rather than offering anything resembling a resolution."
"I still have faith," Cat replies, "that revolutionary spirit, the desire to keep government off their backs, will surface and see the Gestapo Act undone." And a smile forms. "Other nations aren't perfect either. Yours continues a practice of institutionalized misogyny and the premise one can be born more deserving than any other of leadership."
Ygraine laughs softly. "I'd far rather have a symbolic head of state than a competition between big crime and big business groups for which candidate can be bought into office. The political aristocracy in the US has far more power than equivalent parties in the UK. I'm not claiming that the UK's perfect by any means - but I was highlighting a specific problem the US has that is directly relevant to the legislation you object to. I'm a specialist in the analysis of systems and structures of communication and control, and how conflict develops and continues within and between them. The US political sphere has nearly always sought to present conflict as a very simple affair - right versus wrong, us versus them, and aggressively determined unity versus all threats. That's part of the reason why perceived internal threats are dealt with so poorly, and why there is a need for those whom the powers that be deem threatening to be defined as fundamentally "other". Make them not _real_ Americans, and they can be dealt with in the existing paradigm."
Her eyes show enjoyment of the exchange. Cat remains quiet for a time. "I understand perfectly how it works," she eventually replies. "And each time, we've risen above the denial of rights. Perseverance pays off, and things improve." She reaches for one of the Pepsi containers with her food order and drinks from it, then sets it on the table. "It's odd to me, during the time Mrs. Thatcher was Prime Minister, no one took any steps in your Parliament to end the institutionalized misogyny."
Ygraine shrugs slightly. "Part of the principle of English law in particular has tended to be that problems not condoned in law aren't permitted to occur. Slavery, for example, wasn't made illegal, per se - the 1719 ruling was that there was no such thing in England: anyone setting foot upon English soil was free, and there was never the possibility of that changing because there was no such institution as slavery. Naturally, there were loop-holes - just keep your slaves aboard ship offshore… but the principle is often rather more to deny "bad" behaviour the opportunity to be permissible than to define when it might be.
"There's sex-equality legislation… and I think that some of it came in during the 80s - but an obvious counter-argument to proclaimed need for such things was Mrs Thatcher herself. How can you possibly claim that Britain's a male-dominated, aristocratic, classist society when the leader of the country for over a decade is the daughter of a grocer? Visible, brilliant success by high profile representatives of a given group can do wonders to hide the real situation. Of course, the most disadvantaged people in the UK nowadays are male children of poor inner-city families. Girls from the same neighbourhoods live far longer, out-perform them educationally, and - at that social level - can expect to get far more work if they want it. The overall picture's more complex than any politician wants to admit…"
"Sadly, part of that complexity's a loss of the basic principles of the law. I'm a feminist in the old-fashioned sense you'll find defined in a dictionary - equality of opportunity and rights wherever possible. Positive discrimination, equal pay for unequal work, and the like… those make me wary. I don't see that two wrongs will make a right very often. Instead, it's more likely to perpetuate ill-feeling and ensure that the underlying social problems and attitudes continue, but now with visible justifications for resentment that can be pointed to in law…."
She chuckles while listening to Ygraine's dissertation in miniature on British law, and the grin spreads as she fails to address or even recognize the point. Cat takes another drink of her soda, waits some moments, then opts to spell it out. "Because never has there been an attempt to change the succession laws so the firstborn child of the monarch is the next in line, regardless of gender. Elizabeth Windsor is Queen simply because she had no brother."
Ygraine hand-wobbles. "The Queen's titular head. Even Victoria had precious little direct power, and kicked up a political storm when she dared to exercise some of what she had. The US has as its figurehead an idealised conception of the flag and the nation, half combined with whoever happens to be President - while for our figurehead we've got a rather middle class old dear who has a troublesome family. And there's been pretty serious debate about the possibility of Anne taking over rather than Charles - though that's disappeared now that William looks to be competent. If Charles IS pressured into standing aside, it'll be for his eldest son…."
"It's arguably in part because of the fact that the UK has a clear distinction between head of state and political power-holder that the country's had the diversity it has. Compare the social backgrounds of Presidents against Prime Ministers, and see if you can find a single woman or the sons of miners or Jews among the former."
"In all honesty, much of the US suspicion of the UK reminds me very strongly of a recurring theme seen through much of Western history. It's routine for most nations to have a cultural neighbour-cum-rival of whom they are deeply suspicious, seeing them as overly-complex, socially elitist, excessively sophisticated, pompous, and prone to weaselling their way around good, honest folk. There also tends to be a neighbour seen as backward and stupid, and used as the butt of jokes - Polacks in McCarthy's America, or Irish in Britain, or Dutch in Germany, or…. For the UK, the sophisticated, suspect neighbour's tended to be France. For the US, it's "England"."
She just smiles, and again takes a long drink before speaking. Cat's reply is brief, she doesn't feel the need to launch a mini-dissertation to counter things. Not that there was anything to counter, in her view. To her all the rambling says it all. "The succession favors a male child over a female child, and figurehead or not, it's an institution. At the very top it's enshrined that males have more value than females, and from there the idea it's okay to discriminate remains. Nothing you've said disputes that. There's still progress to be made all over the world." Another drink is taken, this one shorter, then Cat seems intent on shifting the topic. "We're agreed, though, that no one beyond the three of us needs to or will know anything about who can or can't do what?"
Ygraine rolls her eyes. "I'd worry more about an unbroken tradition of white, exceptionally wealthy, male dominance of a role that combines both the figurehead and the _active_ political institutions, myself - at least we've _had_ women and foreigners in the top roles", she responds with a lop-sided smile. "But on the other matter - if I was going to tell anyone, I'd have done it yesterday when a dodgy, namless oddity was sneaking around the hospital. Of course, he might be doing so now, come to think of it…."
"I like you," Cat decides, smiling. "You never admit defeat. Although you could do more with distillation of the message. Sometimes you'll lose your audience. Do you think you could on occasion boil things down and write propaganda which would be spread anonymously? In most things, it's all about the presentation, really." Yet another drink is taken, and she muses. "All that knowledge, you seem a graduate of Oxford or Cambridge."
Ygraine shrugs amiably. "I applied to Cambridge, but Manchester's where the national cycling team's based, so I accepted their offer for my first degree…. And Canterbury's perhaps the top centre in the world for the combination of academic research and active involvement in conflict resolution. That's where I did my post-grad work. Mostly, I'm just a nerd who enjoys reading - and who benefited from aspects of the Scottish education system. English students would tend to intensively study three subjects to attain the qualifications required for university - I've got qualifications in seven. The presumption was that if you were bright, you'd be stretched - and across a broad field - rather than just trying to get the minimum number of good grades necessary. Individually, my qualifications at that level aren't worth as much as the individual English ones - but I'm happy that I got to spread my knowledge and interests. I'm geeky enough that I think that reading constantly's a good habit to get into."
"As for writing… it'd depend on the propaganda. I'm not exactly the best at dealing with people, and the last argument for a vision of the future US with which I had real sympathy - drawn from very limited reading, admittedly - was the early 19th century railing against the perils of wage-slavery in democracy and the call for the defence of a republic of competent citizens. Impractical, but an ideal with which I can't help but agree. In the UK… I'd have backed the political arguments of the late 17th century, when people were trying to oppose the appearance of political parties, to retain the notion of a parliamentary representative concerning himself with the good of the nation and his constituents and nothing else."
Ygraine shrugs, offering Cat a rather guilty smile. "I'm a dreamer who lives to ride fast and read about ideals that never came to fruition. Would you really want me to write anything for a cause you'd want others to believe in?"
She listens again, quietly and politely, absorbing every single word spoken as permanent memory. Inwardly she muses on how it's as valuable as having attended a session at Oxford or Cambridge herself. The two schools which could be said to outclass the Ivy League on the world stage. Cat also briefly rethinks her conclusion on Ygraine and her ability. Maybe Peter encountered someone else with that gravitic manipulation ability outside the hospital, and they're just ascribing it to her by being present when he manifested. She has to wonder if maybe she's run into another person with perfect memory. "There's really nothing to lose in it, is there?" Cat suggests. "If what you write isn't workable, then I simply don't have what I already didn't have." And after she speaks, that wonder returns. Maybe it'll get an answer, maybe it won't, but, well, see the nothing to lose argument above. "How capable is your memory?"
Ygraine cocks her head, stance stiffening a touch. After a moment, she sighs and wobbles a hand. "Not so good as it was. I was on Broadway heading North when The Bomb went off. I got put through a store-front at speed, and… well. I only got out of the mental institution in Summer of last year. I've still got… if not holes, then fractures. Things I'm sure I could have read once and remembered clearly for years, I'm now…" She shrugs again. "Why do you ask, and what propaganda do you have in mind?"
"I was curious, given the depth of your knowledge and ability to recall it," Cat replies. Her expression shows sincerity and compassion. "I'm sorry you suffered that, and glad you survived." She remains silent for several moments, making eye contact to convey it, before resuming. "Propaganda, well, short bits opposing the Gestapo Act. Things to draw parallels between the Linderman Act and Jews in World War Two being forced to wear the Star of David, put things in direct display what the law really means."
And again Cat muses inwardly. Memory holes. The volume of information suggests the perfect memory, if any, came before the bomb, but the holes work against that theory. It's still possible, but less likely. Psychology could be involved, a thing Cat hasn't read much on, given Ygraine's time in a mental institution. Another subject goes on the reading list.
Ygraine purses her lips. "You can find six year-olds in the Middle East who've memorised the Koran, you know. Compared to the man in the street - yes, I'm astonishingly gifted at absorbing and recalling information. But in the grand scheme of things?"
Glancing away towards the window, she blinks, then closes her eyes for a moment. "I suffered more than most in the city, from The Bomb itself. I got to skip dealing with the aftermath on the ground, however." Looking back to Cat, she musters a wan smile. "A closer comparison'd be the gradual increase in "monitoring" and hostility, running up to Reichskristallnacht in '38… the process of preparaing the country for mass "action" against the internal threat. Part of the problem'd be the old internet Law of Hitler: whoever first mentions Adolf loses the debate, because it's almost impossible to take them seriously any more. He's a grotesquely over-used bogeyman - so much so that even when comparisons _could_ legitimately be drawn between Nazi and contemporary policy, anyone doing so can all too easily be written off as an offensive crackpot."
"No one has to mention Hitler," Cat replies. "It can be subtly done. It's about the creation of doubt, the use of just enough to spark questions. It's all about the distillation and presentation." She goes silent to think; when speaking resumes it's to float an idea. "Sarcasm. If the mention of Hitler turns the audience away, then make that work."
Ygraine bites her lower lip, then sighs and lifts one hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. "How the heck have I gone from playful banter about being a half-way competent keyboardist for you to discussions of how to change the course of an abusive political system?" She peeps up from beneath half-lowered lashes. "I _am_ a crackpot. And my political views are offensive to a great many Americans. Whether or not I mention Hitler. I… I can offer critiques of things. I might even manage to offer you some of what you're asking for. Though I'm a better analyst, I think. Though I suppose that if anyone's to be sarcastic, it should be a Brit…"
Her head tilts to one side, considering this. "A critic. I could write things and run them by you for your opinion. To see what holes you poke in them." Cat's good, oh so good, or so she believes, at least. Her next words are quiet and sympathetic. "You stumbled into it, simply enough, when you followed a man and entered a hospital room, then saw ability used. Maybe you've got that ability, maybe you don't. I still won't ask. Your business. But you and I know how things work, how it can spread if not actively opposed. Even when the tiers seem benign for most with Evolved abilities. They can always change, if the enforcers believe they can get away with it." To the astute, this speaks volumes again about what Cat neither confirmed nor denied. She, someone close to her like the hospitalized woman, or both, is a potential target of that law.
Closing her eyes for a few moments, Ygraine exhales slowly, expression turning distinctly mournful. "Well… I suppose that this might be considered facing my demons…." Meeting Cat's gaze once more, she forces a hint of a smile. "I was feeling so very brave and proud of myself, riding around helping to get the city's lifeblood flowing once more, one parcel at a time…. Now you want me to butt heads with an oppressive regime that is, almost certainly, in large part wholly well-intentioned and sincere in its current actions. That's part of what's so depressing about it all, of course…. But what makes you think you can trust me? I'm a foreign loon."
"Who said anything about butting heads?" Cat asks. "Nothing was said about your name being involved with anything. No grand clandestine actions, no skulking and spying. Just the occasional release of ideas, and challenges.. A flyer stuck on a pole here and there as you ride around, getting the city's lifeblood flowing once more, one package at a time. And doing what you love most at the same time. Riding the bicycle. Why would that make you not brave or proud?"
Another pause occurs, after which Cat asks the last question. "I trust you because I think you have an ability, and that makes you a target. You also didn't flip out at the very topic, given your suffering since the explosion. And because, as you said, you're an idealist. You want to change the world. Not much happens by you alone, in small actions here and there, but you know getting anything done happens exactly like that. One person at a time."
Ygraine offers a shaky laugh, glancing away before her lashes drop once more. "I'm just trying to find convincing reasons to chicken out of it and resume hiding", she murmurs. "For some reason, it's just a _little_ frightening." One eye cracks open to peep at Cat, then she turns to face her, leaning forward a little over the table. "But if I'm not to despise myself…. Still. Heh. I _had_ been about to say that for all you knew I could be wearing a wire, or the like. But I suppose that in this outfit you might be comparatively safe from that. I'm… honoured, and flattered, by your trust."
"Lots of things have risks. Sometimes they just have to be taken, like the possibility you could've been miked." Cat takes another drink from the cup and sets it down. "What you do is up to you. As stated, nothing about you gets said by me to anyone but the man you saw. And either way on the other activities, that offer to test yout musicality onstage is still open. I don't begrudge anyone living in quiet uninvolvement."
Ygraine sucks her lower lip between her teeth, nodding warily. "And what gets said about me to your scarred and mysterious friend? Uninvolvement, though - I'd have stayed in Britain and done nothing but ride, if I were trying to achieve that. I'm here precisely _to_ face demons."
"I'll tell him you may or may not have the gravitic talent he displayed. He knows who you are, when we spoke I didn't keep that secret. But from this point what he, or you, share with each other is entirely between you. It's your tale to tell, and his, if there are tales to tell. I'll simply tell him we spoke and reached an understanding on things involving what you know. There's no danger of being reported. As further faith in that, well, I'll just say I never forget anything." A quiet smile plays about Cat's lips.
Ygraine arches an eyebrow, pauses, then laughs weakly. "Christ. Now I'm terrified I've said something terribly foolish… above and beyond talking about politics on a second meeting, of course. And blundering into your SO's bedroom. Or…. And you're never going to forget any of that? Ever? Argh."
"What would be bad about me remembering the plain truth?" Cat queries in reply. "That you're a decent woman who thinks of others when things seem suspicious and acted to see if someone you never met was in danger, that you've a dream and passion you want to live out, and you're a survivor who overcame terrible trauma with optimism intact."
Ygraine's cheeks flush with colour, she coughs, and rather ineffectually tries to hide. With her hair tightly bound back into a braid, lowering her chin does little more than offer her a view of the tabletop. "Thank you. You're… very kind…"
"You're welcome." Cat looks away and takes another long drink of her soda while reaching for one of the sandwiches and the clipboard to sign for the delivery, then pulls out a generous tip and places it on the table. Two hundred dollars. She continues to keep her eyes elsewhere, leaving Ygraine ability to compose herself and not be seen blushing.
Ygraine reaches for the money, freezes momentarily, then rather cautiously picks it up and counts it. "Are you sure?", she asks softly. "I… don't want you to feel that you have to pay me for time spent talking to you, or the like."
"I'm a generous tipper," Cat states, "because I can be."
Ygraine offers a bashfully grateful smile, ducking her head and thinking for only a moment longer before she folds the money and tucks it away within her belt-pouch. "Thank you", she repeats warmly. "I'd venture to suggest that you're generous. Many of those who could be, aren't."
"You're very welcome," she answers with a returning smile. "Enjoy riding around, doing what you love so much while delivering packages." Cat stands and picks up that which was brought to her, then the backpack from the empty chair. "I should be getting back."
Ygraine looks guilty, nodding quickly. "Sorry. I've hogged your attention again. And taken your money in return for the privilege. I… I hope that she recovers fully, and quickly."
"Don't look like that, now. I chose to be here and talk with you. I'm also not the one at risk of employment consequences from the time spent here. Nothing for you to be guilty about." And Cat's on the move, headed back to the ward where Dani is.
Ygraine waves a hand in farewell, turning her head to watch Cat depart, nervously biting her lip as she wonders just how bad an impression she really did manage to make….
 September 15th 2008: Feedback |
Previously in this storyline… Next in this storyline… |
 September 16th: Freed from Carbonite |
