The Clocks

Around 8 p.m., Miranda entered the twins' bedroom. Stavros was sitting quietly on his bed and Consuela on hers, with a book in her lap. Their heads pivoted as one, and big grins broke out on both their faces.

"'Suela, it's your turn tonight, isn't it?"

So saying Miranda walked over and sat next to Consuela. Stavros immediately bounced over (only one bounce mind you) and sat on the other side of their mother, whereupon Miranda wrapped an arm around each of them and said, "Begin."

Consuela nodded enthusiastically, opened the book to the fairy tale she'd wanted to read the night before, and began from where they'd last left off.

To be entirely honest, even though being so might distress Miranda -- given her occupation -- her decision to have the children read to her was somewhat selfish. Oh, true, having the children do the reading was very helpful in that when one of them was stuck on a word, she was immediately available to aid them. However that was only a secondary reason for the arrangement. More than anything else it was because she hated reading aloud. Putting in the obligatory sound effects, such as a monster's roar, embarrassed her greatly. Finally, as she wasn't involved in holding the book, she had both hands free for hugging.

Though there wasn't a name for it yet, Miranda was one of those people who felt that all things in life should be organized properly. She needed things done in certain ways at certain times. One of the reasons she accepted Duchess Henrietta's offer to be her spymaster was because that allowed her to put the activities of the people living in The City in a proper order, at least in her mind.

In some ways she was a bit worse than many with her problem, as she also organized her life according to what she considered the "proper" activities associated with whatever room of their home she was in. Thus in her office she was all business, in the library, especially if her husband was present, it was time to relax, and when in the twins' room she felt free to cuddle and play with her children to her heart's content. She had, reluctantly, come to the conclusion that, in the hallways and along the balcony on the second floor, there was no set behavior that was useful in all situations. It frustrated her, but she was a realist and had accepted that she couldn't control everything.

Since Paolo and Sara's marriage the year before, she'd been feeling increasingly deprived as her two "babies" were the only ones left who invariably enjoyed cuddling back. Paolo was almost never available for a hug any more, and Eugenia was in the throes of teenhood, which meant that she was pretending that she didn't like hugs at all.

Of course Miranda still hugged her now and then. Genie would have hated it if she hadn't. However it's hard to get much satisfaction when you hug your daughter and she just stands there with her arms hanging at her side acting like the only thing in the entire world she wants is for you to stop.

When it was time to stop reading, all three of them wished that there was some way to continue. Nevertheless, Miranda gave them one last, good squeeze and mumured, "Sleep well my darlings. You'll begin your new game tomorrow. It should be fun, for all of us."

"Yes Mama." "I think so too Mother."

She kissed each of them on the forehead, then tucked them into bed. After she closed the door, she admitted to herself that this new "game" she'd invented for the children would benefit her more than them. All the new information would help her to impose more order on the city that existed in her mind's eye, not to mention that it was likely to reveal all kinds of corruption and criminal activity. It never ceased to amaze her that people would blabber on about all kinds of things they really shouldn't talk about in public when "only" children were around.

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Over the ensuing two years, the twins became increasingly adept at ferreting out information, some of which proved instrumental in solving, or even preventing, a substantial number of crimes.

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September 03, in The Year 724 After the Founding

Three weeks after the twins' 11th birthday, Eugenia and Mario were married. Their reception would be the first that the twins had ever been allowed to attend. Just before they left, the twins approached Miranda. "Mother, we wish to change our agreement."

"Oh, you don't say 'Suela? Explain."

"Yes Mother. It's not that we haven't appreciated what the Fukui's offer, but, to tell the truth, it's getting harder and harder to become enthused about something you've had week after week. So, we ah..."

Stavros interjected, "We want books. One book for each 'important' bit of information or every five points of lesser information."

Miranda assumed a thinking pose while fighting down the urge to jump up and down and pump her fist. Since they were in a hallway, a multi-purpose area, it would technically have been allowable, but it would have ruined her image.

"Very well. However, it will need to depend on the book. If you want something hard to find or expensive, it's going to take more than just one 'important' finding. Rather than setting a fixed rate now, we'll negotiate each time. Will that do?"

The twins looked at each other, then turned to their mother and bowed their acceptance. Then the three of them joined the rest of the family, each of them certain that they'd gotten the best of the deal.

After they arrived at the reception, as was usual in a group that was mostly adults, the children were completely ignored, except when they pretended to argue with each other. At other times when various adults noticed that they were holding hands, the response was usually something along the line of: "Oh. That's cute. They get along so well!"

The reality was rather different. To be sure, they did get along exceedingly well, but they held hands at the reception for an entirely different reason. They had accidentally discovered that they could speak in "twin" if they were touching each other. Now I know what you're going to say: All twins can speak in "twin" without touching at all.

That's true. However, to do so, the twins' attention needs to turn inward to some extent. In so doing, there's a very typical facial expression that occurs that anyone living in The City could easily spot.

Consuela and Stavros, when touching, could speak "twin" without the telltale change in their faces or their consciousness. This allowed them to fully focus on different areas of their surroundings simultaneously and yet still be in constant communication with each other. They'd put it to good use on numerous occasions when "scouting" for information for their mother. Since their coloring was substantially different, most onlookers assumed that they were a couple, albeit a rather precocious one, and, as such, were focused on each other and not their surroundings.

Consequently they had frequently been able to glean information from even those who were cautious with their speech when they were in public.

Early on, the reception produced only a few interesting items that the twins could trade to their mother. However, by 9 p.m. the ale and wine had been flowing for three hours, seeing as some guests had arrived an hour early. Between then and when the reception ended at 11 there was likely to be a great deal of useful information slipping out of a number of inebriated lips.

Like everyone born in The City, the twins had a special skill. It wasn't dramatic like Eugenia's invisibility, but it was just as useful as Paolo's special hearing. The downside of theirs was that it depended on being able to see their "target" clearly. The upside was that instead of Paolo's 10 meter range, theirs was closer to 40.

As long as they could see a person's face, they could read their lips with 100% accuracy. As the reception wound down and tongues began to wag carelessly, they sat themselves on a settee at the edge of the hall. They held hands, slumped toward each other with their shoulders and heads touching, looking in different directions, and were, seemingly, almost asleep.

For the final hour and a half, they absorbed, cataloged, and sorted a great deal of information. Most of it was trivial, some worth reporting in summary, and some which they memorized word for word.

Before they had presented their mother with their book proposal, they'd scouted the various stores and shops within The City and had identified nearly a hundred volumes that interested them and weren't available at home or in the libraries they had access to. Before the night was over, they intended to have earned at least five or, hopefully, eight of them.

Once they were well on their way home, they dropped their "sleepy child who stayed up too late" act and their eyes gleamed as they told their mother, "It's a very good thing that there's no school tomorrow. It's probably gonna take two or three hours for us to tell you everything."

Miranda's only response was a twitch of an eyebrow and a thoughtful expression. Maybe, just maybe, for the first time in 20 years, someone else had gotten the best of a bargain with her after all.

On entering Miranda's office, they were surprised to find Mimi sitting behind the desk with a stack of paper and several pens in front of her.

"Madame, please take your rest in your armchair. I can write as quickly as they can speak. You write so slowly that alll you could do is take notes, which means you'd miss a great deal."

Mimi didn't, quite, snort in exasperation. "Besides, unless you write even more slowly, you wouldn't be able to read it tomorrow. Your handwriting is atrocious."

Miranda took her wounded pride over to her armchair and sat as directed. Over the next three hours, much as she hated to admit it, Mimi, as always, had been correct. An incredible torrent of information flowed from the twins. As soon as one became tired from speaking, the other continued from where the first had stopped. Miranda could never had recorded even a fifth part of it with any accuracy.

In some ways, what was even more impressive was that Mimi never faltered. Any ordinary human would have had severe cramps in her hand within 20 or 30 minutes. After the twins had been sent to bed, and Miranda had given Mimi her profound thanks, she glanced over the notes. Mimi's handwriting on the last page was just as clear and as sure as on the first. How very interesting, and how exceedingly annoying.

Mimi had just given Miranda another piece to fit in the puzzle of the game they were playing. At that moment in time, Miranda had absolutely no idea as to where the piece would finally go. That was part of what made it so enjoyable. If it was obvious each time Mimi gave Miranda a hint, the game wouldn't be nearly as much fun.

Well, there was no use dwelling on the unsolvable. Instead she turned her attention to the pile of notes before her. Even the little that she remembered would keep her busy for several days. The amount of work implied by the height of the stack was on the mind-boggling level. Even so Miranda looked at it with a sense of heady anticipation. There would be so much more of The City that she would be able to put in order.

Wonderful!