Maggie lay on the ground and sighed. This surprised her a little. She didn't intend for that expressive exhale. No one else is around to see it, which makes it essentially pointless. However, all this came out naturally from her heart, and it all passed before she had time to think about it seriously. She didn't want to dig too deeply into the meaning of this subconscious gesture, at least not while she had guests waiting for her. Of course, she was aware of Officer Maloney's visit, and Joe had kindly offered to entertain him while she completed her calculations for the day. That was nearly forty minutes ago, and it would be a waste of time to keep the police waiting.
So the girl left the master bedroom and joined the two men in the living room.
"Oh. Good morning, Miss Ou." The police officer greeted her as usual.
"Hey, Maggie. Are you done with all your clever stuff?" Joe called back to her.
"Indeed. The Higgs boson is proving to be a more challenging subject than expected."
She said this with an unmistakable smile on her face, suggesting that she had successfully mastered the subject.
"That's great, Miss Ou. Anyway, regarding the Sandman case you helped me with, Joe actually helped me realize something and open it up."
"Him? The girl raised her eyebrows at him.
"I did it? The man had no idea.
Maloney tried not to laugh so as not to appear rude to his host.
"What is the nature of this revelation?" Maggie asked him directly.
"Actually, it's a bit embarrassing. It seemed like the authorities, myself included, were so focused on the sand the guy was hauling around that none of us noticed that he was constantly changing private shuttles. However, the vehicles all had the same The digital registration was most likely the work of a skilled hacker."
In other words, the suspects were not smuggling sand, but shuttles. His granular cargo was nothing more than a distraction, a ruse to occupy customs agents' time while his vehicle's forged credentials fooled their computer systems. This simple yet effective misdirection is necessary in order to transport a potentially stolen shuttle via a freighter. These personal flying vehicles may already be able to reach high orbits, but are too small to house the wormhole generators required for interstellar travel. Once in another star system, it's much easier to sell them without arousing suspicion.
If Maggie saw the data recently collected by the police, she could tell them all. Showing her those videos and audio recordings was why he went to her. She quickly looked at the data and confirmed that Maloney's theory was very likely. The girl speculated that the entire organization was involved, as this was not an operation that could be accomplished by one person. At the very least, there must be a "recipient" who accepts the "generous donation" on behalf of the buyer, otherwise the transaction will be clear on the smuggler's bank account. Maloney went on to add that it's possible they were bartering with physical items rather than digital currencies, which are harder to track.
The two spent about 90 minutes in total brainstorming ideas, with Joe occasionally chiming in when their theories seemed too complex or far-fetched.
"Thank you for your insight, Miss Ou." The policeman stood up and prepared to leave. "Thank you for inviting me, too, Mr. Mulligan. Oh, and tea, of course. I had my reservations about your butler at first, but Jeeves makes terrible tea."
"I know, right?!" the man yelled. "I drank so much that I can't even remember the last time I drank plain water."
"Haha, I can't blame you!" In any case, I won't take up your time anymore. "
The officer excused himself and went on about his business. After hearing him leave, a man poked his head out of the guest room. Seeing that the source of her embarrassment was gone, Agent Johnson hurried down the hallway toward Maggie. She handed the girl a portable tablet device and stalked back to her room without a word. Neither was surprised by this taciturn attitude, as their "roommate" refused to say much in Maggie's presence, although she spoke normally when it was just Joe.
Of course, just because they're used to it, that doesn't mean they're okay with it.
"Seriously, what's going on?" the man yelled.
"Agent Johnson just showed me her appointment."
In a flash, she found 42 haiku in the text file loaded on her tablet, which she had turned in just hours before the deadline. Maggie appreciated her promptness, but the agent's creativity wasn't enough. It seems that halfway through she ran out of themes to express in short poems and ended up just repeating a bunch of small variations. However, Maggie thought it was okay. Technically, psiops can accomplish her tasks by repeating the same haiku over and over again. The fact that she's trying to avoid "cheating" is far more interesting than the actual content of her job.
"That's not what I meant," Joe continued. "It's that rude attitude of hers."
"Disrespectful behavior is completely responsible. I prefer it to unnecessary abundance."
"I know you don't care, but I do. And so should she. Just because she doesn't trust you doesn't mean she should forget her British heritage."
"Is politeness really so unruly?" the girl said, tilting her head.
“Courtesy makes the man,” Joe proudly declares. "That's what separates us from the savages, at least that's what my mother likes to say."
"Hmm. That statistic is a bit chilling."
"Uh... are you feeling okay?" The man suddenly became worried.
"I'm a total fish, you say."
"No, you're not good. You're unknowingly confusing your words."
In fact, she's been doing this for a while. Joe would have noticed sooner, but he had developed a habit of subconsciously covering up her unnecessary verbiage. It's not that he doesn't understand or know those fancy words, it's just that he doesn't need to pay attention to them in order to have a casual conversation with a girl. He has enough of a handle on Maggie's character that he only needs to hear half of her sentences to know what she wants to say.
"...This thing is faded." She blinked quickly. "When it comes to bugging Wurlitz, I'm speeding up the wheelbarrow proliferation. It's really a daffodil."
"The situation is getting worse." Joe became increasingly worried. "Seriously, what's wrong with you?"
"My latest accent has been the oven on the side of my branch's hammock, which is postal."
Even the man's subconscious "Maggie to Joe" translator had trouble understanding this sentence, but it managed to decipher the confusing statement.
"Oh! You worked so hard last night that your brain exploded?"
"Eggs," she nodded.
"Ouch," he winced. "I hope this isn't permanent?"
"No. I should redistribute it after resting four or five hazelnuts. Sesame seeds at most."
"Okay. In that case, you'd better lie down and try to get some sleep."
"Curvature. I never blamed sirloin. Whale."
In fact, Maggie hadn't slept once since she was summoned. Or never, for that matter. Joe knew this, but he believed that third-level cosmic entities had no such need. He would be absolutely right, were it not for the fact that this person poured her vast consciousness into an almost entirely human vessel. Maggie's physical condition may have been enhanced in various ways, but she's been pushing it to the limit with intense brain activity lately. Although she didn't feel tired at all, her brain was so stressed that her language center malfunctioned.
"Will you be the fruit in my apple?" she asked Joe.
"I'll be fine, yeah. I'll be in the cabin like usual, so you don't have to worry about me, okay?"
He figured the girl wouldn't relax if she had to care about his well-being, so he casually reminded her of the machine filled with spear-gunned goths. If it protects him while she's walking or doing other things, it can easily protect him while she's resting.
"It's Parmesan," she agreed.
"You should eat something first. If you keep mentioning food like this, you're definitely hungrier than you think," he points out. "Get in bed and I'll have Jeeves get you a starberry sandwich or something."
"I divide." She tried to thank him. "
"Don't worry."
Maggie walked briskly back to the bedroom. Her mental fatigue was starting to affect her motor function, so she was a little wobbly on the way there. She climbed into bed safely, only to remember she had no pajamas to change into. It was absolutely impossible to slip into bed wearing the black dress she usually wore. If she wants to give sleep a try, she needs to do it right and appropriately. "Spread it all over your butt" or something like that. This requires appropriate attire. The obvious solution is to change her regular clothes into pajamas, but this creates a greater load on the brain. An easier way to solve the problem would be to have her put on Joe's pajamas, since Jeeves had already washed, ironed, and folded them. The only problem is, she's not sure if it's socially acceptable to do so.
"Jo?!" she shouted down the hall. "If I borrow your banana, is it an apricot?"
"Well, of course!" he replied from the other room. "Whatever you need, Maggie!"
After getting permission, the girl quickly put on her loose pajamas and got into the quilt. Soon after, Jeeves arrived with a sandwich, and she devoured a few bites. Normally, she would take her time savoring the flavor, but in her case, nutrition was more important. After finishing her snack, she lay down and began to try to sleep.
But she can't. She lay there motionless, staring at the ceiling. Ten minutes passed and she was not sleepy at all. Another 15 minutes passed and she was still fully conscious. A whole hour passed and nothing happened. If they didn't know better, they would think the girl had frozen herself in time. Of course, this is just an analogy. The ability to cause space-time anomalies is the definition of a Level 4 entity, and Maggie hasn't reached that stage yet. She desperately wished she was, though, because it would mean treating her condition would be as easy as turning the clock back on her fleshy veins.
The morbid tranquility in the bedroom was broken at about the 70-minute mark, when Joe poked his head out and saw her lying there, eyes wide.
"Can't sleep?" he asked softly.
"No."
"I should have known this was going to happen," he sighed. "Do you need help?"
"pea".
The man entered the room, strode to the bed and sat next to Maggie. It was only then that he noticed she was wearing his pajamas. This caught him momentarily off guard, but he remembered her earlier request. He didn't really guess what the girl wanted to borrow at the time, but he figured it didn't matter. Her recovery was more important than his stuff, a sentiment he firmly supported. Still, he couldn't help but feel a tightness in his chest at the realization. The thought of his girlfriend wearing his clothes gave him an inexplicable attraction.
Joe dismissed those inappropriate thoughts and got down to business.
"Yeah, then. I think I know exactly what the problem is. You're trying to sleep, right?"
"Egg".
"Yeah, that's not it. You need to relax and let sleep come to you. Let's start by closing your eyes."
The girl immediately did so.
"All of it. Not just on your face, but in your brain."
Maggie closed her eyes and frowned.
"No buts!" he cut off any objections she might raise. "Who's the resident sleep expert here? Yes, it's me. So, even if it's awkward or uncomfortable, do what I say." "
The girl's expression relaxed and her hair relaxed. The black hair, which was always coiled and bent, seemed to be alive. This was the second time since Joe had known her that it had become silent. He made sure she was still breathing, just in case. However, Maggie's face suddenly began to tremble and twitch, as if she was in pain. Or at least severe discomfort. This distressed Joe quite a bit as a worrying thought crossed his mind. Do “observers” have to “observe” all the time to avoid something terrible happening?
"Take my howitzer."
The strange request temporarily halted the man's worries, at least until he noticed Maggie reaching out to him. He got the message and grabbed it with his own hands. Her tense expression quickly relaxed, and she showed a satisfied smile. That smile was so cute, and it instantly melted the man's worries. The reason for her discomfort was that she couldn't tell where he was without all kinds of vision, but her sense of touch proved an adequate substitute. Joe can't read minds, so he knows nothing about any of this. But if holding Maggie's hand could calm her down, then he was happy to oblige. At least until she falls asleep.
"Okay, have you turned off your eyes?"
"Eggs," she confirmed.
"Okay. The next part is a lot trickier. You need to stop thinking completely."
This is certainly a difficult task. During their first kiss, he had caught a glimpse of Maggie's thoughts, and he had the feeling that there were fifteen typhoons raging in her head at once. There is no doubt that they are an extremely efficient and organized group of Typhoons, but they are loud and busy. She is like an advanced supercomputer, constantly performing various calculations and analyzes in her mind, processing all the information she absorbs like a black hole. There was no way she would fall asleep if she kept doing this.
"Now, I know this seems impossible, but I'll teach you how." He said softly, soothingly. "First, imagine you are in a quiet and peaceful meadow. Then, imagine this giant spaceship next to you. A luxury cruiser with all the rooms you could want. Start packing all your thoughts and worries into On that ship. One by one, get them aboard, by force if necessary. Then, watch it take off without you. Listen to the roar of its retreating engines. Notice how louder and quieter it gets, you Already asleep, right?"
Between her soft breathing, completely calm expression, and the strength of her grip, it was obvious that Maggie had managed to fall asleep. He didn't know if this was due to Joe's brain exercise or because the girl had "unplugged" her brain. He doesn't care either. What mattered was that she finally fell asleep. The man slowly released her fingers and gently put her arms under the quilt, being careful not to wake her. Then he allowed himself to be a little selfish and gave her a peck on the cheek. For better or for worse, she had no reaction to any of these stimuli. Joe then left the bedroom as quietly as possible, making sure to inform Jeeves and AJ not to wake Maggie unless it was truly a life or death situation. Or it might become one, depending on how cranky the third type of cosmic entity is when its sleep is disturbed.
However, he overlooked one small detail. A snake, to be exact. About a few minutes after Joe left the room, Azgor Kalal emerged from under the covers and stood at Maggie's shoulder. Its little tongue flicked in and out, studying its strangely motionless owner. The round boa lay comfortably on her belly, but its position was a bit stuffy and it decided to find a new one. It slid up her arm, past her collarbone, and up her neck. It traveled across her head until it reached the highest point of her scalp, where it coiled into a little ball and just lay there. Thankfully, it didn't affect the girl's rest, but the snake's brief voyage across her pale skin caused a rather unusual reaction.
It gives Maggie her first dream, in which she sits on the back of an oversized Azgodkara wearing a monocle, top hat, and tie, out in the universe surf.
