The Man with Absolute Pitch

Greenlaw Tewkes Barret gets a burr in his bonnet. Auren Han gets another ulcer.

Dance gets…well, he’s getting something.

The viola… it’s great. It’s fabulous, Auren. I wish it were mine. “I will take the Ring, though I do not know the way.”

“Hold…hold up. You said you were going to see it got sent to Dance, through Pen and his circus people. Barret… I… I don’t want you in this.”

“You worry too much. No one knows what I look like. I’m just this obscure dude, kind of an overgrown band geek– “

“Barret…you know. You know you’re too well known in Dance’s circles. And in mine. Your name is all over my life, and my fingerprints are all over you.”

**chuckles** “You were kind of rough last night.”

“We’re…we’re entwined at the data level. It’s my fault. It’s…it’s why…”

“It’s why you left me. I know.  Look, I’m just going off for a visit, okay?  I haven’t seen Harriet in three years. I’ll stay with her. She’s not famous. She’s just a person. I’ll send word through Pen. He’s got sense.”

Pen has maggots in his brain, Barret. He has levels  you can’t comprehend, don’t make the mistake of trusting him.

“It’ll be all right. Besides, your forensic geek is chasing Turner, now. He’ll find that bastard. He will.
He always gets his man, sort of like an OCD Mountie.”

Auren, I’ll be all right.”

Damn it, Barret, this isn’t playtime. This isn’t some sonata you’re practicing.

“The bad guys used to carry their guns in violin cases. Unlike good guys, right? They usually just carry violins.”

Secure relay

Channel 4
secure relay

teslamomma says: hows that curly haired boy of yours?
han says: We are not going to talk about him
teslamomma says: you get him onto that locatelli quick
teslamomma says: my baby is coming out of his shell real fast now
teslamomma says: we got bug sign around him already
han says: that was fast
han says: will move him

Kang Dong Won in khaki jacket

Auren Han logs out of the relay tunnel, rubs tired eyes.

His curly haired boy is not coming back to the house tonight.  He’s doing some damn hyper-futuristic collaboration with a group of university students, actors and musicians. Auren can’t imagine how on earth he will bring up the subject of an obscure Baroque violinist when he, Auren, is supposed to be a flat-eared philistine.

Or how he will be able to watch the curly haired boy walk off, bearing that viola case towards the end of the world.

Barret, damn him, was not supposed to find the hole in a man’s heart and climb in through it.

That was not in the contract.

with a nod to Kiyakotari

“Can’t,” Auren Han said.


Can’t get it in words.


Han, on his back, clothes almost shed, light dappling him, closed his eyes, not sure why this guy just didn’t get it, didn’t get that that was enough, more than enough, more like too much.


Something brushed against his closed eyelids. A flower petal, maybe.


“Yeah,” Han said, finally.

“When you were little,” came the voice, absurdly, deliriously happy, “they called you Auren H.”

“Yes,” Han agreed softly.

“You were smart. You were the smartest one. You had bangs and you had glasses and you collected stamps and you showed me the square root of 2. You were Auren H. Auren,” something finally, finally bubbling up in that voice, “do you remember me?”

For god’s sake, god’s sake, to have to answer, Yes, I remember you, as a matter of fact you are what I remember, you are all I remember, now.

To drop the blinds, kill the light, and turn over flat on his side in his bed, empty.