Datamancer

“Wow, that’s neat,” Piotr said. “You’re really cool and nice, Etty. I’ve never met a gun like you. Mostly because our guns don’t talk.”

The gun made out an odd noise, as if it had never been complimented and had no idea how to respond.

“Compliment the gun’s owner too,” the voice added.

“Your owner’s pretty damn cool too,” Piotr said. “Both of you are…”

“Incredible, wicked, awesome,” his internal monologue suggested.

“Absolutely incredible,” Piotr let out.

A strong, armored arm wrapped itself around him. They shot through the Warsaw sky at a speed that made Piotr’s stomach lurch. Below, he could see people pointing up at them, some taking photos.

“Where to, my lovely guide?” Linari asked over the whoosh of the displaced air.

“There’s a café I know,” Piotr managed. “Między Nami. Great coffee, quiet atmosphere.”

“Coffee! Yes! Maybe it’ll help with this headache! Guide me!”

They landed in an alley behind the café, Etty transforming back into gun form with a series of mechanical clicks and whirs, emerging from the innards of the bike frame. Linari holstered her onto her hip clip and pulled the folded up flying bike frame onto her back like an oversized backpack.

“Do I look okay?” Linari asked, smoothing down her brown mane. “I probably still smell like vodka and regrets.”

“You look great,” Piotr said honestly.

Even hungover, she was magnificent—almost seven feet of muscle, absurd curves and an inhumanly big smile.

In the café, the barista gaped at the massive wolf woman, nearly dropping the drinks she was carrying.

They claimed a table outside, Linari barely fitting on the chair. Piotr ordered coffee and pierogi while Linari studied the menu with intense concentration.

“What’s a ‘cheese-cake’?” she asked. “Is it cheese or cake?”

“Both, sort of.”

“Your world’s very silly,” she declared. “I’ll take three!”

“Offer her drinks from the backpack,” the voice in his head suggested. “It’ll help with her hangover.”

“Hey, um,” Piotr reached into his backpack. “I brought some things that might help with your hangover.”

He pulled out beer, which made Linari groan.

“Hair of the dog,” he explained. “Trust me.”

“Hair of… what dog? Huh?”

“Just a local expression.”

She chugged the beer and immediately perked up. “Aw yeah, that’s nice. Thanks, Stormy-o.”

“Are you drinking during work hours?” Etty asked.

“Shhh,” Linari waved an armored hand at the gun. “I need it to think. If I can’t think good, I won’t be able to find the One Ring or whatever.”

The gun sighed, then suddenly her ring vibrated, flashing red. “Incoming priority communication from Datamancer Kawathra.”

“Oh fuck,” Linari groaned. “Don’t answer her!”

Her gun tapped the ring.

A magpie-like humanoid materialized in the projection, sitting on a crystalline-organic couch, black feathers shimmering with emerald-tinted rainbows at the edges. She was wearing a dark hexasuit with a skirt and jacket uniform combo atop featuring silver epalettes.

“Scrutimancer-Alpha Linari Browmin! You missed this morning’s briefing. Your weapon just notified me that you have consumed alcohol during active duty hours. That’s another protocol violation and a fine. You are two-point-seven kilometers outside your assigned search grid. You are not wearing your regulation uniform. You have shared classified communication technology with an unauthorized local entity. You have—”

“Kawathra, chill I can explain—” Linari started.

“Silence! I haven’t finished listing your infractions.” Kawathra’s head tilted almost ninety degrees. “You have utilized your symbiote weapon for non-combat transportation to your current location. You have entered a local breakfast consumption establishment without backup. You are currently ingesting non-approved substances. You—” The magpie’s head snapped toward Piotr, black eyes evaluating his outfit. “You appear to be fraternizing with the local wildlife during work hours.”

“It’s not against regulations to make friends!” Linari protested.

“Section 47, Subsection 12, Paragraph 4 of the Colonial Integration Protocol specifically states that Scrutimancers should maintain professional distance from local fauna until full threat assessment is complete.” Kawathra’s voice never changed its nasal tone. “My assessment of this world is incomplete. There could be unknown dangers lurking about. You haven’t completed threat assessment on this local creature. He could be venomous. He could explode. He could be carrying memetic parasites.”

“Kawthy! Come on! He’s completely harmless!” Linari protested. “If he wanted to hurt me, I’d smell such intent a mile away. All he wants is…”

“Don’t picture Linari naked,” Piotr inner voice suggested. Piotr failed catastrophically at this job.

Linari let out a barking laugh and grabbed another beer from his open backpack.

“What’s so funny, Alpha-Scrut?” Kawathra demanded, glaring at the wolf.

“Nothing,” Linari giggled into the beer. “Absolutely nothing.”

“You there. State your designation and life’s purpose,” Kawathra snapped at Piotr.

“Storm-o-Lyx,” his inner voice said. “My current job is trying really hard not to picture Linari naked.”

It was at that moment that Piotr began to regret the Wicked Witch messing with him this morning.

“What?!” Linari choked on her beer.

“I’m StormoLyx,” Piotr let out finally. “My life’s purpose is… I don’t actually know that one. A bit of a tough question, that.”

“Lina! What’s he thinking about?! Is it murder? Betrayal? Trickery?!” Kawathra cawed.

“Nope, definitely none of those,” Linari shook her head.

“Human, state your threat level on a scale of one to apocalyptic.” Kawathra’s hologram demanded.

“Is Kawthra pretty? How much prettier is Linari? Let’s think about this,” his inner voice suggested.

“Uh… zero?” Piotr offered, mentally yelling at his inner voice to shut it.

Obviously Linari was prettier. Kawathra seemed incredibly annoying if anything.

Linari barked a laugh.

“Impossible. Everything has a threat level. Even furniture. Especially furniture.” Kawathra hissed, glaring at Linari. “I once documented a chair that achieved a threat level of three-point-seven.”

“Tell her you’re a two,” his inner voice suggested.

“Actually, I’m probably a two,” Piotr offered. “I can… program computers?”

“COMPUTERS!” Kawathra’s eyes widened to an alarming degree. “Digital warfare capability confirmed! Threat level rising! Do you have access to nuclear launch codes?”

“What?! No!”

“Perhaps you COULD acquire them through your ‘programming’?”

“No. That’s not how programming works.”

“Hrm. Insufficient data. Beginning standard interrogation.” Kawathra clicked her beak. “Human! What is your favouritest color?”

“Blue.”

“Why?”

“It’s… calming?”

“Self-targeting mental manipulation through chromatic preference noted. What is your stance on birds?”

“They’re… nice.”

“Define ‘nice’!”

“Pretty to look at?”

“AHA! Visual surveillance of avians confirmed!” Kawathra squawked. “Linari, this local beast warlord admits to watching birds! He could be gathering intelligence on Pradavarian Datamancers!”

Linari rubbed her face with her paws. “Kawhy, everyone looks at birds. Birds flying all over, being visible.”

“I do not fly around being visible,” Kawathra stated defensively. “I manage spreadsheets!”

“I’m talking ‘bout local birds,” Linari let out.

“Ask about her spreadsheets,” the voice in Piotr’s head suggested.

“You like spreadsheets?” Piotr inquired.

Kawathra’s entire demeanor shift-snapped rapidly.

“Why yes!” she preened, “I maintain 47,293 active spreadsheets tracking all aspects of this planetary occupation and making sure that Division 881 does its job better than others. Would you like to see my pie charts?”

“Kawhy, no!” Linari groaned. “Nobody wants to see your damn pie charts.”

“I got bar graphs too,” the magpie added. “And a revolutionary new visualization I call a ‘squiggle plot’!”

“Definitely ask about the squiggle plot,” Piotr’s inner voice added.

“What’s a squiggle plot?” Piotr asked the holo.

“NO!” Linari barked, but it was far too late.

Kawathra’s projection expanded, detonating with dozens of floating holographic windows, each one featuring a multitude of progressively more complex charts. One seemed to be tracking “Incidents of Humans Claiming to be Wizards [As sorted by ‘Hat Pointiness’].” Another showed “Correlation Between Coffee Consumption and Mentions of ‘Batman’.”

“This one,” Kawathra chattered with a proud look, highlighting a chart that looked like someone sneezed mathematical equations into a graph, “tracks the frequency of humans saying ‘like’ as a verbal filler against proximity to educational institutions!”

Linari looked progressively more bothered as the charts multiplied.

“Ask about more charts, this is hilarious,” the mental voice stated.

“Wow,” Piotr let out. “No wonder the invasion is so well-organized. Can you show me more?”

“Finally! Someone who appreciates proper data visualization!” Kawathra’s head bobbed excitedly. “Linari never wants to review my charts!”

“‘Cause you drive up up the fucking wall with your dumb charts,” Linari huffed, drowning another beer.

“Offer to help the bird with data,” the inner voice suggested. “Build rapport.”

“I could help you understand the local data patterns better,” Piotr offered the Datamancer. “I’m a programmer and work with data all day.”

Kawathra’s head tilted precariously far, looking almost sideways. “You… you would assist me with local data interpretation?” Her eyes lit up.

“Sure.”

“Even the spreadsheet about suspicious penguins?!”

“You’ve got a spreadsheet about suspicious penguins?” he chortled.

“Yes! Seventy-four percent of humans who mention penguins also reference someone called ‘Emperor.’ This cannot be a coincidence. The penguins are clearly organizing!”

“Don’t think about naked Linari petting penguins at a Zoo,” Piotr’s inner voice betrayed him again.

Linari made a strangled noise. “Kawathra, the local penguins are simple, nomag birds who can’t even fly!” She elbowed Piotr. “S-stop that, we’re in public!”

“Stop what?” Piotr asked, blushing under his cosplay.

“You know what you’re doing, you devious beastie,” Linari said, tail wagging.

“What’s he doing?” Kawathra demanded.

“Tell her to stop reading your mind in public without your permission. Also don’t imagine her naked and working out covered in sweat…” His inner voice laughed deviously. “Wait, do wolf girls sweat? Don’t think too hard about that one!”

Piotr furiously blushed under his costume.

Damn you Wicked Witch, he thought. Damn you to hell!

“Linari, could you maybe… not read my mind? It’s kind of invasive,” he said.

“But it’s so easy!” Linari protested. “Your thoughts are right there, floating around like delicious smell-bubbles!”

“Friends don’t read each other’s minds without permission,” Piotr said. “It’s… a boundary thing. Don’t you know enough about me already?”

“Ha, listen to this one,” Kawathra laughed. “He doesn’t want to be mentally investigated? Sounds like you should investigate his dastardly plans extra hard!”

“Don’t think about your dastardly plans of dating Linari,” the dastardly mental voice suggested.

Linari choked on her cake.

“Ask the bird if she’s made a spreadsheet about making spreadsheets,” Piotr’s inner voice suggested.

“Do you have a spreadsheet tracking your spreadsheet creation?” Piotr asked, glad to be sliding away from his Linari-picturing thoughts. “To optimize your own performance?”

Kawathra froze. “I… I…” She made a sound like a dial-up modem having an existential crisis. “Urm. That’s… Hrm. Hrm. That’s an interesting idea… for a primitive.”

“No!” Linari laughed. “Kawathra, we’re supposed to be finding magical artifacts, not—”

“This IS critical! How can I optimize spreadsheet efficiency without a meta-spreadsheet analyzing spreadsheet creation patterns?!” Kawathra pulled up a bunch of charts.

“Tell her you’ll help her lots with data analysis if she accepts you as a trusted informant and pays you in gold cubes,” the inner voice coached. “Tell her you lost your job today.”

“I could… help you lots with spreadsheet stuff,” Piotr offered. “Only if you officially recognize me as an Earth-culture-information for Division Eight Eight One. I kinda… might have lost my job today… as I spent half the night hanging out with Linari in a pub.”

Kawathra’s head snapped back into focus. “Hrm, hrmmm. Prove your worth first, human!”

“How?”

“Find me one, ONLY ONE genuinely magical thing on this Astral-forsaken planet and I’ll consider it!”

“Ask what they would do if you found a vampire grave,” his inner voice prompted.

“What would you do if I helped you find, say… an actual vampire grave?” Piotr asked.

Linari and Kawathra both burst out laughing.

“Vampires?” Linari wheezed. “What? You know some vampires? Really?”

“The probability of genuine vampires existing on this magically-null world is approximately within zero-point-zero-zero-zero-zero-two percentile,” Kawathra rattled off.

“Make a bet,” the inner voice urged.

“Wanna bet on it?” Piotr asked.

“A bet?!” Kawathra’s beak snapped with a click. “I LOVE bets. They’re fun and generate excellent data points! What are the stakes?”

“Go big,” his inner voice said. “Make it impossible for her to refuse. There’s a museum in Krakow they’re gonna love with tons of vampire graves. You know about it, went there with your friends last year.”

“If I can show you… evidence of historic vampire graves,” Piotr said bravely, “then Linari gets time off duty to spend with me as my… cultural exchange partner. And you have to delete your three most boring spreadsheets.”

“DELETE MY SPREADSHEETS?!” Kawathra shrieked as if someone suggested burning down the Library of Alexandria again. “WHAT?! NEVER!”

“Escalate the stakes to harsher ones,” his inner voice suggested deviously.

“Ten most boring spreadsheets,” Piotr amended.

“Oi! This isn’t how negotiations work!” the magpie fluttered, dark feathers puffed up on her head crown-style. “Go down!”

“Demand no mind reading instead,” his inner voice added.

“Very well. No spreadsheet deletion,” Piotr said. “But if I show you evidence of vampire graves, Linari chills on reading my mind all the time.”

“Uh-huh. And if you fail?” Kawathra asked somewhat menacingly. “When you inevitably… fail catastrophically because this planet is too linear to possess real vampires?”

“Bamboozle them with being extra helpful,” the inner voice said, “offer to spend time with both of them. Say you’ll work for free.”

“If I fail to find real vampires, I’ll help you and Linari catalog every single movie and book about magic in Poland! With many citations! For free!” Piotr stated firmly.

Kawathra’s pupils dilated to an alarming size. “Every… single one?!”

“With cross-references and correlation matrices,” Piotr repeated what his inner voice whispered with a wide grin, giddy at the deal that would allow him to win either way.

“DEAL!” Kawathra squawked so loudly that the other café patrons turned to star. “Witnessed and logged! Timestamp recorded! Terms archived in seventeen different formats!”