“Ms. Dylan?” the newcomer asked.
“That’s right,” the detective said. “And you must be Ms. Trishilan.”
“Please, just Trishilan,” the woman replied before taking the seat opposite Beth. “I don’t really have a formal address.”
“Very well,” Beth said. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”
“Well, you caught me at a lucky lull between shows,” Trishilan said. “You see, the fall time is perfect for theater, but most people aren’t interested in the dead of winter. No, they’re all too comfortable watching T.V. on their implants, slack-jawed on a sofa somewhere. What I’m saying is that you caught me with some free time.”
“Either way, it’s very helpful,” Beth replied. “I don’t know if I was able to explain why I wanted to meet you over our call too well.”
“Yes, I was a bit distracted, I apologize,” the entity said. “Though I knew if a homicide detective was calling me, it must be important. Tell me — was it Giancarlo? I haven’t heard from him in days.”
“No, I don’t believe you know the deceased,” Beth answered. “However, you may know one of our suspects.”
“Oh dear,” Trishilan replied. “I could only guess Craig or that Reemis kid. Though I don’t imagine they’d ever stoop to something so foul as murder.”
“No, it wasn’t any of them,” Beth said. She was getting a little frustrated at being interrupted. “It’s Simon Mendez, Jr. that we’re looking for.”
Beth waited a moment, staring at the other person’s face and trying to gauge her reaction. There didn’t seem to be even a flicker of memory at the name. Instead, Trishilan’s eyes squinted in confusion.
“Sorry,” the entity said. “Who?”
“Simon Mendez?” Beth repeated. “According to my information, you used to date about fourteen years ago.”
“That doesn’t sound right to me,” Trishilan said. “I haven’t even been around for that long.”
Beth paused for a moment, thrown off from her usual investigative momentum. She furrowed her brow a little, unsure if Trishilan was being deliberately unhelpful or if there was something she was missing.
“One of your ‘parts,’ ” Beth started, unsure if that was the right term, “used to date Simon.”
“Oh dear, there are no parts — not anymore,” the entity replied. “There is only Trishilan.”
Beth was confused. “I thought that entities still retained the individual identities of their components,” she said. “Or am I mistaken?”
“I’m sorry to say that you are incorrect, detective,” Trishilan said. “I believe you are thinking of a ‘unit’, which is another form of mindshare. You see, a ‘unit’ merely shares a body, yet each individual component lives their own lives, as separate consciousnesses.”
“Forgive my bluntness, then,” Beth said as she sipped on her water, “but what is an entity?”
Trishilan seemed more delighted than annoyed at the question, which Beth was not expecting.
“Oh, my dear, there is nothing to forgive!” they said. “I am more than happy to educate people about L.G.B.T.Q.U.E. lifestyles. You see, where a unit is a collection of identities that share a body, an entity is a body that shares a collection of identities.”
Beth frowned in confusion. “I don’t understand,” she said.
“Well, I am an individual, basically,” Trishilan said. “Units are groups, but I am one. I used to identify as three separate consciousnesses, Philip, Trish, and Andrea. Yet they came together one day and decided to cooperate on a single life rather than lead three separate ones. Thus, I was born. In a way, they are like my parents. Do you retain your parents’ memories, as well?”
“No,” Beth replied. She was taken aback and didn’t know how to lead her questioning from here.
“Then you see why I am unable to help you,” Trishilan said.
Beth was at a loss. She knew that Trishilan’s logic was sound and there was nothing she could do about it, but a more emotional side of her felt like the entity was hiding something.
Maybe they’re covering for Simon, she thought.
Before she was about to speak and say something accusatory, the more logical part of her brain flared up.
Or maybe this is a dead end, she wondered.
“If Andrea’s individuality is gone, then it’s like she’s dead,” Beth said.
“That’s a naive way of looking at it,” Trishilan replied. “That’s like saying that once a caterpillar has turned into a butterfly, it is gone. It’s the same, but different. Tell me, have you stopped to ask a butterfly if it remembers being a caterpillar?”
“No,” Beth said plainly.
“Then I suppose we will never know,” the entity said. “However, in my case, I cannot help you. Not for a lack of desire, though, and it’d please me if you remembered that. I have no reason to hold anything back from you.”
Unless you’re covering for Simon, Beth thought. But there’s no way I can prove that.
Beth did her best to give Trishilan a warm smile. She folded up her napkin and placed it on her unfinished dish.
“Thank you so much for your time,” she started, “but if you’re unable to help me further, I should leave. I have many leads to follow and not much time to do so, so if you don’t mind…”
“Not at all,” Trishilan said, still nibbling on their food. “I do hope you have better luck with the investigation than you had from me. I don’t personally know this suspect, but I hope whoever committed this murder is held responsible for his crimes.”
Sure you do, Beth thought sourly as she stood up. She left the table a generous tip using her C.C., then strode to the door.
“Oh, detective!” Trishilan yelled louder than Beth would have liked. “Feel free to educate others about us entities!”
Beth left the restaurant without replying.
Coffee
The sun caught Beth in the eye as she strode down the sidewalk. She blinked a bit, trying to maintain her confident demeanor, but she had to raise a hand and make some shade. One of the passing autocars reflected the light at her, but she didn’t slow her stride.
She made this walk at least once a week. Only two blocks from
