1964-08-22 - Echolocation
Summary: Lindon and Kaleb meet in a bookstore and find there's much to discuss.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
lindon kaleb 

It's an older bookstore in New York, but one that's known to have both a good selection and an interesting environment. It's what one thinks of when one thinks of a bookstore. Old wooden floors that creak, dust, the smell of old paper. There is a table with chairs for studying and comfy chairs in a corner for perusing. There are new and old books here, separated by subject and listed in alphabetical order by author.

At the cashier's desk is a tall, tweedy looking man, not bad looking if he'd consider not buying off the rack anymore. His limbs are too long for a jacket that's small enough to fit his slender frame. He's talking to the cashier. "But it's a historical inaccuracy. The Romans never did that."

Kaleb came in and did what he always did, a total inventory of the structure of the building interfrom exterior. How'd the space fit in there? Was it used efficienly? Were there cool crannies to look for? Where would books on bats be? For everyone else there was a exceptionally well dressed young man that was painstakingly put together before stepping out. His driver left him there to go about his business. There was time to orient himself before stepping in. Really he was bracing and adjusting for the tonal changed from outside to inside as the sounds of conversation bounced off all of the hard surfaces in the store and softened a bit on teh cloth spines of the books. Romans?! An eyebrow arched and the lean young man took a glance towards the discussion to get a better shape of it.

Oh, there are crannies. It's built about as efficiently as an older store in New York can be expected to. If efficiency of use is books in every conceivable place a book can be put, then yes, very efficient. The cashier looks up at Kaleb and nods. Lindon looks up, and he offers the youth a fleeting smile. Awkward, not really sure how to exude confidence there despite how surely he speaks to the cashier. Who says, "Why wouldn't they?"

Lindon says glibly, "They had better technology. Do you really think steam power took this long to figure out?" He gestures to a book on the counter.

"The Romans didn't have steam power," the cashier scoffs.

Lindon shrugs. "Suit yourself."

Bats? They would probably be in the nature aisle.

Kaleb didn't look at them and didn't raise his voice but his tone was quiet, and tired, and droll. "Actually research Roman steam baths, or Vitruvio. They absolutely did have steam power just not a practical kenetic sense we use for transportation in the 1800's. Now." He folded his sunglasses. "Bats. Where is your section on zoology?" The tone was near impertinant, but direct and demanding as neat as his suit.

Lindon inclines his head to Kaleb, then looks to the bookstore owner. See? The man starts to answer Kaleb, but Lindon thoughtlessly interrupts him. "Just over there," he says, nodding toward a nearby aisle. "Unless you want flying foxes, they're in the section on wildlife of Australia, end of the row." The shopkeeper just gives Lindon a look, which Lindon doesn't notice.

Kaleb replied to Lindon, you know the knowledgable one and ignoring the help for now, "Well it was more I'm studying echolocation in bats and marine life. Spiders too I suppose but I rememebr that being highly insubstantial where research was concerned. And… you are?" He squint. This one might be worth rememebring if he had further questions or at least helpfully ranked above 'plebian'.

"And birds," Lindon says. He breaks off from the shopkeeper to amble in Kaleb's direction. "Oilbirds and some species of swiftlets use echolocation," he says. "Let's see…" Upon coming to the aisle on bats, he looks through the offerings, and he selects one of the books. "Is this for a book report?" he asks as he turns a page, then another. Then another. His eyes skim the words swiftly, top to bottom, then he turns again. "Lindon," he murmurs as he reads, half-distracted. "Lindon Mills. Nice to meet you."

Kaleb rolled a looke to lindon in a double take. "Oh you are Lindon." He quint and looked at the be-tweedy man closely. "I pictured you shorter. Hmm. Kaleb. Kaleb Miller. I was advised to find you elsewhere weirdly but here you are." He squint for a moment and wondered how much of that was engineered. He was both terribly intreagued and yet allergic to the idea of someone pulling his strings. "I did not know birds could do that. You know if they have a volume on this?" Okay curiosity piqued.

Lindon blinks a few times, looking up from the book he's gotten to the middle of within a few moments. What, who, him? "How serendipitous," he says slowly, though he looks more confused than wary. "Hello, Kaleb Miller." He looks around, brow knitting as he draws on a strange melange of memory and preordained knowledge. "If he still has any books on echolocation, they would be part of general books on biology, though the bit about oilbirds and swiftlets is often overlooked." He closes the book he's half-finished. Apparently there's nothing good in it on the topic. "What do you want to know about echolocation?"

Kaleb responded evenly, "believe it or not is a study in acoustic architecture. Use of echolocation helps us understand how sound travels and relays in a space which has a number of practical design applications. I'm fascinated by these birds though." And hell that could be useful to Jay. "If you have time now or later you came by referral to tall to on a thing about a thing." He had to ask, "how did you know about the birds? Do you have one? can they be domesticated?" he was feeling a bit better.

"Oh? Who referred me?" Lindon asks. He's a guy who knows things in his professional life, so it's not too unusual someone might have mentioned him. It's only strange that it would be to someone so young and well-dressed. He ambles in the direction of the bird section to see if there's anything on the subject. "Oilbirds are nocturnal," he says, "and they use rudimentary echolocation to navigate at night," he says, "The genus Aerodramus swiflet lives in caves and uses echolocation to navigate. Aerodramus fuciphagus is the species they make birds nest soup from." He turns to look at Kaleb. "Oh, no I don't have one. I just know things."

Kaleb sighed and muttered "My brother does that. It's annoying." Kellan had inherited studying made easy. Echo inherited bitching about it in stereo. He paused long enough for London to know the following was a bold faced lie, but sometimes discretion called for it. At least he was an honest liar? "My professor reconvened you as a resource for historical hauntings in New York give boroughs."

It's a buyable lie; Lindon says, "Ah," and nods. "I can certainly help you with that. New York is full of stories about hauntings." He smiles a little to himself as he peruses the books under birds. The know-it-all brother is a role he can relate to. "My concern is these books won't do much more than mention echolocation. I don't know that they'll say much on how it works or the hard math involved."

Kaleb sighed and squint at the books. "Yeaaaah. I'm prepared to compare out against other known data in Islamic architecture. They have done some way far putt things in the 1400's. Eventually I'd like to hop out to India and explore it… maybe I'll do that in January." because why not? Loking to London he asked, "is there a good way to cast appointment for an hour of your time?"

"Easily," Lindon says, warming to this learned young man who claims it's the brother who's knowledgeable. "I'm generally free in the evenings after seven, most of the day on weekends, or you could visit me on my lunch our at the library." As for hopping out to India, he tilts his head curiously. "Do you do a lot of traveling?"

Echo nodded able to work within these parameters. At the head tilting Kaleb blinked and answered readily, "Pretty extensively I guess. Got back from a couple recently. I mean I can look things up in a book but you learn more laying your own eyed on the skeleton of history."

"I agree, you learn more when you get to have your hands on something. Knowing something isn't the same thing as understanding it." Boy there are so many instances where that's true. For example, how people work. No amount of anthropological knowledge could get Lindon to wrap his head around how people work. "For what it's worth," he says, "the swiftlet's echolocation consists of two broad band pulses between three to ten kiloHertz, followed by a one to three millisecond pause."

Kaleb eyes Lindon as he glanced up from the volume in his hands. "You are a roving encyclopedia aren't you?" If only he knew. "That's actually… hang on" He dug out a small moleskine notebook out of his back pocket and pulled a small golf pencil out to etch a note in it keeping that factoid. Away from teh shopkeep he hollowed out the sound in the aisle of the bookstore. Soundwaves were rerouted around them and the conversation he kepts with Lindon went no further. Thos etoo bright blue eyes looked up to lindon and said with some importance, "There were creatures from beyond about a month ago from some sort of…dream dimension or… something. They were trying to turn citizens in the area to kill the mutnats and capture someone they referred to as 'the mystic'. There were two possible persons on the scene and we checked the first one and I was referred to you for knowledge on this place or a man named Langston? Langly? Lamont? Belmont? Something like that."

"More or less," Lindon admits. His brows lift when Kaleb mentions the dream dimension. "The dream creature," he says, and Kaleb has his whole attention. In a low tone, he says, "Lamont spoke to you?" His features soften despite himself to say the man's name. "He was the mystic it wanted dead. I don't know about it targeting mutants in particular, but it doesn't like being interfered with, and mutants having special talents have greater means to interfere, so I can see how it might look like that."

Kaleb cast a shifty look down the aisle. Yup was working! He assured Lindon in conversation tone, "Don't worry, no one can hear us. I might have… pissed it off real good. I was there when it made a grab for some folks. Tried to hurt my brother. Now I wat to tear it's face off so I can slap it repeatedly." He shrugged. "I'd like to discuss this for that guys' sake and that of the others being targeted by this."

Lindon's lips purse thin. "Oh, dear," he says. Suddenly he doesn't seem to know what to do with his hands. "Sure, we can't talk about it. There are other interested parties, I'm not at liberty to discuss who, I'm afraid, who are interested in eradicating it. They're going to close the rift in the dimension the creature's from, but it's going to need distracted while they do that or it will go after them."

Kaleb considered this and had to ask curiously, "THey're going to take care of it, fine. What's… the thing anyways? Know what at the Library can we speak? I might be able assist with distraction, but the …thing was posessing a neighbourhood of people put to sleep to start hissing 'kill the mutant, kill all the mutants." He paused and his expression soured like he didn't particularly care for the word but anted, "We'll say there is a vested interest in he community not having a riot."

"Greenwich Village," Lindon says, "not far from a teashop called Mrs. O'Riley's." He glances around. "Why don't we take those chairs in the back?" He nods toward the cushy chairs. "The Library's crowded a lot of the time." Plus his coworkers are there, nnng. The ones who think a nice man his age should be married. He grabs a book off the shelf so it can arguably look like they're discussing it. "I've never heard of it calling on a specific sort of victim. Maybe some mutants hurt it or got in its way. It's…" How does he describe this? He turns to look at Kaleb. "It's a consciousness that wants to enter this dimension, and it's so alien, it doesn't seem to understand us at all. We have learned, however, that it has evolved to have a temper."

Kaleb had three books in his hands and followed Lindon to the comfy chairs. He sat and kept the conversation 'private' . "So its some… alien disembodied entity?" He paused and said offhandedly, "That seems to be going around. Odd. They were …controlled. Well until we woke them up. People got shot, some lady jumped out a window. It was awful."

Lindon squints as he considers Kaleb's description. "Yes," he says slowly. "Sort of. Okay, it's a singular creature inside a dimension we can only perceive in a liminal state, such as lucid dreaming, possibly sleepwalking. It started out only being visible to those it could force into such a state or who might be sensitive to it, but it evolved. Now it can hijack the mind of someone in a liminal state and make them dream its dream."

He hugs the book in his arms to his chest, and he regards Kaleb for a moment before he asks delicately, "Were there tentacles?"

Kaleb sat back and said drily, "Enough to make a seafood resteraunt prosperous for a year. One tried to grab my brother. There was this one guy that… he was in bad shape. Really…bad shape. But yes things were trying to come through. Ummm why?"

Lindon sucks air through his teeth and says, "Oh, dear. That's its physical manifestation. It's exploring, learning, you see. About us, our world, not just the things in it and its people but its laws of physics, the environment. Soon, it will come out of dreams entirely and just…" He sighs. "Here's the thing: it's not evil per se. But it has learned, if not anger, then the logical conclusion that obstacles is in its best interests. Lamont thwarted it before, and imagine it's not happy with you guys now. At the rate it's evolving, well. The only reason I'm not worried you might be one of its victims spying on me is we're not in Greenwich Village."

KAleb listened closely, and then was very very annoyed. "That's it. I'm fucking telling my brother we need to move. I love Greenwich VIllage, but it's far too perilous for my radio to survive there. This cannot stand." A sigh followed. "Okay so… forgive me if I take a moment because your'e telling me monsters are growing aconsciousness from our darkest fears while we sleep. nice. Real nice. Okay looking past that… can we ask it not to do this?"

Lindon blinks owlishly and watches Kaleb as he makes his declaration. Hey, he can't blame the guy. He's got the details of this thing in his head, and it's kept him up at night sometimes. "We can try, but I don't think it understands the concept. It's got an objective: come here. It really, really wants to." He frowns faintly, but then he awkwardly pats Kaleb's arm. There there young man. "Soon it won't matter. It will get sent back to its own dimension and you won't have to move."

Kaleb pursed his lips thoughtfully. It was a long, and through thought. Finally he reconsiled his way past the emotional content and had to agree. "Okay it's got to go. Is there anything I or we can do to get this thing out of my neighbourhood so it stops killing our property values? I can handle losing a neighbour or two but I really need my infrastructure to start staying in tact for one whole month."

"Losing the neighbor probably won't do any favors for your property values," Lindon points out, "but I think, if I were you, I would contact my friend Lamont." He takes a card from the inner pocket of his ill-fitting jacket, as well as a pen, and he writes Lamont's number on it. The front of the card declares him Lindon Mills, Archvist, with a number where he can be reached at the Central Library, New York City. "To be safe, discuss it away from Greenwich Village. Rally people willing to keep it distracted. That'll probably mean a fight and having to keep onlookers safe. Give me your contact information, and when our other interested party figures out a plan, we can coordinate with you and yours."

Kaleb wrote down his home number. "I share a flat with my brother and two friends. It's in the Village but you don't have to put any information in there other than Kaleb call. Almost all of us were there that night. I think we can get hte help you're asking for. Now I'm glad I dropped by. The birds though, they're completely legit? Where are the little cave birds indigenous to I might want one."

Lindon takes the number and tucks it away. It's a pity about the suit. He could look quite dashing if he got something tailored. And if something was done with his hair. "Oh, yes," he says. "Oilbirds and genus Aerodramus swiftlets. I don't know how you would go about getting one, though." He rubs at his chin. "They're nocturnal. You won't get much out of it during the day."

Kaleb cracked a faint grin and said "Well then I'll have to learn how to call one to me. It'll either work out very well or it'll wind up very tasty. Either way I think we have potential here." Arm on the chair the exceptionally put together young man pushed himself to a stand and offered a handshake to Lindon. "Pleasure getting to meet you. I'd love to discuss the project with you later and hear your thoughts on it if it's of interest to you."

Lindon rose to his feet all limbs and tallness, and he takes the offered hand, giving it a friendly shake. At least his hands are clammy, ugh. No, he's used his universal knowledge to study the handshake very closely. Execution is acceptable. "It was nice to meet you, Kaleb. Yes, let's. My number is the same as Lamont's, and you've got my work number, too. I'll consolidate my notes and we'll see what we can do."

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