wanted six-pack abs, now you may have them. This is one of the things that’s a nice change from being omni,” he said encouragingly, as if offering a child a candy bar. “You don’t have to work hard at looking ripped.”
Gordon was starting to look a little annoyed at all the information, but there was no telling which bits might be crucial at any given moment. So Cole elaborated anyway. “Your muscles tear a little every time you lift weights,” he informed Gordon. “Omnis have to wait for the tears to heal, and when they heal, they build muscle. You do not have to wait. What would take an omni months to achieve, you can do in a few days. Hours, if you—”
“Oh, look,” Sandor said, stopping at the corner of Ninety-sixth Street. “There’s a subway stop. Shall we go down?”
Cole and Gordon stopped, too. Gordon turned his head, searching eagerly till his eyes lighted on the railing that marked the stairway. Apparently he had not seen a subway entrance before.
Cole didn’t bother to look. “Only if you know exactly what trains are down there, Sandor. Only if you know precisely which one we get on and exactly where it will end up.”
Sandor shook his head. “Where is your sense of adventure?”
“The goal for tonight is to avoid adventure,” Cole said, and started walking again.
The other two followed.
“Do you have any sort of tool?” Cole asked Gordon.
“I gave him one of my rings,” Sandor put in.
“Good.” Cole turned to Gordon again. “Have you used it yet?”
“Yes,” said Sandor.
“I’m asking Gordon.”
“Yeah,” said Gordon in a don’t-nag-me tone.
“Only in the Building though,” Sandor added.
“The world is not the Building,” Cole told Gordon. “You must be very careful not to let anyone see the ring with the cap off. Read the situation. If the omni is drunk, you have more leeway than if it’s sober. With a sober omni, in a nonsexual situation, you often have exactly one try to get close. You can’t go touching their neck over and over, and you certainly can’t go putting your face up against them.”
“Oh,” said Sandor, stopping again. “I’d forgotten about this place.” He pointed to a building across the street. “It’s much closer than Seth’s bar. What do you think?”
Cole looked it over. FROMM’S, the sign said. No windows, so he couldn’t see inside. But there was an awning. And the sign was classy, subtly lit cursive on a white board. Not a dive. Cole hoped it wasn’t too upscale; he didn’t want to drag an uncouth, grumpy, beer-guzzling teenager into a place where he’d stand out—not when he himself looked like a teenager as well. “We can give it a try.” He thought quickly as they crossed the street—what else did Gordon need to know before they went in? “Stay away from the wrist,” hesaid. “That’s almost useless everywhere except in the Building, because they can see everything you’re doing. Sandor, can you think of anything else?”
“No, you’re doing wonderfully well. But it reminds me; did you know Mitch has a tongue stud?”
“No.”
“He said it doesn’t work very well, because it’s hard for him to get the cap on and off. And once it’s off he has to be careful not to cut up the roof of his mouth.”
“And it draws attention as well,” Cole pointed out, for Gordon’s benefit.
“Not so much these days. But I expect he’ll give up on it.”
“Probably.” They were outside the door now. It opened to let a couple exit, and the heavy thrum of dance music swirled out with them. The couple strolled off holding hands, and the door shut, locking the sound inside again.
Cole turned to Gordon, who he could tell was beginning to feel a little nervous. “Now listen. All you have to do is put your hand on your omni’s neck. Don’t grab, of course—you mustn’t frighten it—but naturally. If you can find its pulse with your fingers, just below the jawline,things will go easier. After you have some
Gordon was starting to look a little annoyed at all the information, but there was no telling which bits might be crucial at any given moment. So Cole elaborated anyway. “Your muscles tear a little every time you lift weights,” he informed Gordon. “Omnis have to wait for the tears to heal, and when they heal, they build muscle. You do not have to wait. What would take an omni months to achieve, you can do in a few days. Hours, if you—”
“Oh, look,” Sandor said, stopping at the corner of Ninety-sixth Street. “There’s a subway stop. Shall we go down?”
Cole and Gordon stopped, too. Gordon turned his head, searching eagerly till his eyes lighted on the railing that marked the stairway. Apparently he had not seen a subway entrance before.
Cole didn’t bother to look. “Only if you know exactly what trains are down there, Sandor. Only if you know precisely which one we get on and exactly where it will end up.”
Sandor shook his head. “Where is your sense of adventure?”
“The goal for tonight is to avoid adventure,” Cole said, and started walking again.
The other two followed.
“Do you have any sort of tool?” Cole asked Gordon.
“I gave him one of my rings,” Sandor put in.
“Good.” Cole turned to Gordon again. “Have you used it yet?”
“Yes,” said Sandor.
“I’m asking Gordon.”
“Yeah,” said Gordon in a don’t-nag-me tone.
“Only in the Building though,” Sandor added.
“The world is not the Building,” Cole told Gordon. “You must be very careful not to let anyone see the ring with the cap off. Read the situation. If the omni is drunk, you have more leeway than if it’s sober. With a sober omni, in a nonsexual situation, you often have exactly one try to get close. You can’t go touching their neck over and over, and you certainly can’t go putting your face up against them.”
“Oh,” said Sandor, stopping again. “I’d forgotten about this place.” He pointed to a building across the street. “It’s much closer than Seth’s bar. What do you think?”
Cole looked it over. FROMM’S, the sign said. No windows, so he couldn’t see inside. But there was an awning. And the sign was classy, subtly lit cursive on a white board. Not a dive. Cole hoped it wasn’t too upscale; he didn’t want to drag an uncouth, grumpy, beer-guzzling teenager into a place where he’d stand out—not when he himself looked like a teenager as well. “We can give it a try.” He thought quickly as they crossed the street—what else did Gordon need to know before they went in? “Stay away from the wrist,” hesaid. “That’s almost useless everywhere except in the Building, because they can see everything you’re doing. Sandor, can you think of anything else?”
“No, you’re doing wonderfully well. But it reminds me; did you know Mitch has a tongue stud?”
“No.”
“He said it doesn’t work very well, because it’s hard for him to get the cap on and off. And once it’s off he has to be careful not to cut up the roof of his mouth.”
“And it draws attention as well,” Cole pointed out, for Gordon’s benefit.
“Not so much these days. But I expect he’ll give up on it.”
“Probably.” They were outside the door now. It opened to let a couple exit, and the heavy thrum of dance music swirled out with them. The couple strolled off holding hands, and the door shut, locking the sound inside again.
Cole turned to Gordon, who he could tell was beginning to feel a little nervous. “Now listen. All you have to do is put your hand on your omni’s neck. Don’t grab, of course—you mustn’t frighten it—but naturally. If you can find its pulse with your fingers, just below the jawline,things will go easier. After you have some
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