Like I said, the seer thing is really in your face in New York.
On this trip, I'm noticing them a lot more, too. In fact, since we got here, I've seen more seers on the streets than I knew even lived in the States.
The last time I was here, three years ago, I don't remember seeing even half as many.
Their numbers seem to have quadrupled, at least in terms of their visibility...and three years really isn't very long, so I admit, it's kind of a shock. They all wear those computerized collars, which supposedly means they're "safe." But I see the looks they get on their faces, following behind their human sponsors, or even just when they're standing there like equals almost, offering their opinion or insight like anyone else. I see the way they look at us.
I see the way they look at me, and I wonder why any of them would spare even one of us, if they had the option. And sooner or later, everything that gets enslaved gets free.
I don't remember where I read that, exactly, but it feels true.
There aren't many seer clubs in San Francisco yet, although I'm sure it's coming. I've already noticed more walking around with business people in downtown SF, wearing suits and collars, sometimes so well-concealed I think they're human until I get a good look at their eyes, or maybe give them a second glance because of their height and notice the collar.
That's the other thing I don't like New York.
Often, coming here, I see the future of San Francisco.
It's not always a future that looks all that great to me, frankly.
***
My best friend, Cass, rolled her eyes, snorting pointedly.
I could tell it was aimed at me.
Leaning back on the leather-padded bar, she sighed loudly and even more pointedly, stretching her arms over her head. Everything about her posture and body language was designed specifically to let me know in no uncertain terms that she was bored...and that she held me personally responsible.
Sighing back, I threw my swizzle stick at her.
She brushed it off her arm, raising an eyebrow.
The message in her eyes remained the same.
The club was closed, but we'd been allowed inside as 'band crew' when we told the bartender we'd be helping Jaden set up. Well, that and he found our name on the list. The bartender himself was still cleaning up from the night before, which wasn't all that surprising really, considering New York club hours. And it was early still, only about eight am.
That should have been early enough to chill out even Cass, but our plane landed at five, so she'd been up long enough to be antsy.