3 January

Yes, predictably enough, she knew I'd be there. How she knew wasn't as predictable as I thought--seeing as I essentially had no idea how she did know, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

She was wearing a light, slightly see-through overcoat, showing off her business one-piece underneath. She was always dressed like the archaic "girl next door" when we were in school together. Emi always seemed more interested in being sweet than she was in sneaking around and sending strange messages. There she was looking like she was heading to a board meeting--but on Holiday Eve? Who would do business on the night the entire Ring was celebrating?

As I followed her in, I knew she couldn't be doing business--it was a museum. Perhaps she was working late? She never did mention in her messages what she was doing for work now. As I approached the ticket window just inside the door, I saw Emi vanish through a door with a sign over it that read "The Early Days."

I waved my hand at the window sensor and it chirped at me. A tinny voice told me I could enter for the next twenty-four hours as I wished.

I wasn't sure if Emi was there to see me or not at first, so I didn't try to catch up to her. To be honest, I did such a good job of this that I managed to lose her around the Edward R. Murrow statue in the "muckrakers" section. He looked like a grim fellow--if that's what journalists looked like back then, I'm glad I was born now.

As I looked away from the statue's tired-looking face, I realized Emi was nowhere to be seen. I looked toward the "Journalists of Television" section and decided she must have gone there. However, when I got there, she wasn't.

I passed through a few more sections and could see the cafeteria. I had no reason to think she was hungry, but it was as good a place as any to look. I headed in and looked around.

Some journalist. After seeing my school-age girlfriend for the first time in twenty years, I lose her in a museum.

How can I expect to hunt for a story if I can't keep an eye on my first love?

Then I realized I was in the middle of an exhibit on journalism. Perhaps I might learn something from it? Isn't that what museums used to be for?

Still... where had Emi gone?

I tried not to think about her. I tried to tell myself that it wasn't really her--it was just someone who looked like her. To be honest, since she'd contacted me, I often found myself staring hard at women I'd see on the mono or in the market because I wasn't sure if they were Emi aged twenty years older or not. People do change over time.

I found myself back at the Edward R. Murrow statue.

I read the description on the wall next to the statue softly: "Edward R. Murrow is best known for his journalism-based evening content stream entitled 'See it Now' and another, entertainment-based content stream entitled 'Person to Person.'"

I paused and wondered aloud: "That's all you have to do to get a statue?"

"Jim."

I locked-up, hearing the voice.

"I knew you'd be here. Where else would you go without your wife in town?"

I slowly managed to turn around to face the shadow from which the Emi's voice had come.

"Em?" I forced out of my mouth.

"Yes," she replied from the darkness cast behind a statue of a man called Cronkite. "but stay there."

"What?"

"Just stay there. There may be someone watching us."

"Of course, there's someone watching us, there are sensors everywhere."

"I think someone may be paying attention to us. Please--I'm just trying to help." She began to look at the displays as though she were really interested in them. I tried to play along and do my best to not look like I was talking with her.

"Help?"

"Your friend Van--he asked me to get a message to you."

"My friend?"

"He said, that he knows what the Vidi is."

"Wait--the old man from the night we were arrested?"

"Yes. He said you'd know what I was referring to."

"Well, sort of--but how do you know him?"

"I... can't... look, I shouldn't even be here. If my Mark finds out--"

"Who's Mark?"

"He might leave me."

"Oh, I know who Mark is, now."

She smiled awkwardly at me. Our eyes locked. Her black hair was longer than I remembered it from school. Her face was older, but I could still see the old Emi in there--or, I suppose, the young Emi. She looked tired--like life could have been easier. Then again, we all look that way if we live long enough.

"I'm sorry, Van says you should meet him tomorrow, by the A-mono platform at Future Park."

"OK. Emi..." I reached out to her and just as I touched her right hand with mine, she moved away.

"No."

She disappeared around a corner and when I caught up, she had vanished again.

As I stood there, staring at where she would have been if she hadn't disappeared, I felt strange. Like something just wasn't right about how she had evaded me yet again. Was she just that quick? Or am I just that slow?