The Incrementalists by Steven Brust, Skyler White Page B

jaded, which makes our work seem unimportant. But that wasn’t happening to Celeste—I think the only reason she came back at all was the work, to fight Oskar, and maybe, I hoped, to try again with me. I guess I just didn’t realize how cynical she’d gotten.”
    “How do you mean?”
    “She meddled with me to choose her own Second. If we had any rules, that would be against all of them. Celeste chose you.”
    “But I don’t remember her.”
    “I know.” Phil’s hair was coming loose from its knot and he shook his head to free it. He pulled it back again. I was glad the blond guy was gone.
    “Hiya, Phil.” A young, slender Asian man had spotted Phil through the slatted wall across from our booth and came around it into the café. He didn’t sit but stood by our table, touching its still-empty surface with the small, round tips of his fingers.
    “Hello, Swede,” Phil said. “This is my friend Ren.”
    Swede studied me for a serious moment from behind his glasses. “Hi, Ren,” he said. He beamed at Phil. “Just side-games again this series?”
    Phil opened his mouth, and closed it.
    “I’ve been keeping him pretty busy,” I said.
    “Oh,” Swede said. “I get it.” He laughed a little. “I’m busy too.” His dancing fingertips danced against Phil’s coffee cup, spilling some. “I gotta go.”
    He left.
    “Swede?” I asked Phil.
    He shook his head. “Long story.”
    I mopped up the spilled coffee with a napkin, hoping to prevent the return of Kendra and her wiping rag. I was pretty sure that Phil, consciously or not, was creating this French farce of waitresses, captains and Swedes. “Why can’t I remember Celeste?” I asked him.
    He shrugged. “You shared a genetic link. Sometimes that does things to memory. Creates loops.”
    “You’re afraid you may have lost her.”
    “If we ever really had her.”
    “Why did she choose me?”
    “I don’t know. I thought I had chosen you because you were strong and bright, with a history of standing up for what’s true, even when it’s risky. I thought you were smart enough to manage all the information we have to handle, and beautiful, because that mattered to Celeste, and I wanted us to have a shot at just loving each other.”
    “You and Celeste?”
    “Without Oskar. He was all she talked about the last ten years. She was almost obsessed with stopping him.”
    “If Celeste doesn’t make it back,” I said, “that would be good for Oskar, right?”
    Phil just nodded.
    “Is Oskar blond?”
    He looked up. “Are you starting to remember? God knows, if Celeste was going to remember anything, it’d be him.”
    “Blond and tall?” I asked.
    “Yeah. And fucking good looking.”
    “And walking toward the lobby?”
    Phil whipped around to follow my eyes. The gorgeous, tall blond man stepped out of sight.
    “Were you watching for me?” Irina slid into the booth beside me and dropped a prescription bottle in my lap. “So,” she said. “Are we all caught up?”
    Phil
    “Oskar’s here,” I said.
    “Where?”
    I shrugged.
    Irina frowned. “Are you sure?”
    “Someone’s been watching us,” said Ren.
    “And he was tall, blond, and big-shouldered, so it’s either Oskar or Matt, and if it was Matt we wouldn’t have spotted him.”
    Irina turned her head and looked at Ren. “Did he seem to be making an effort not to be noticed, or was he blatantly staring?”
    “He left when I caught him watching,” she said.
    Irina turned her hawk’s eyes to me, as if daring me to brush it off. I had no intention of brushing it off. “That,” I said, “is more than a little troubling.”
    “No shit,” said Irina.
    Ren was looking at me with an expression of simple trust, like, I know you’ll help me figure this all out and see that it comes out all right. Something twisted up in my stomach. Ren without Celeste’s memories was different from Ren with them, and different from Ren before them. I had a terrible urge to protect her, and I