The Rise of Rachel Price T-Girl Pt. 23

"He wants what he can't have, and you are the fucking gold standard for that. If you put some effort into being what he expects from a girlfriend, then he will get off your back. If you start being a kind and affectionate girl, stop playing hard to get. If you don't, he will never leave you alone. For Christ's sake, just let him fuck you, then he will let you go in peace. Just one simple blow job and it's all over. Just stop this insanity, will you? I can't believe you are too dumb to figure this out yourself..." Lucy said.

Lucy held her head back and sniffed. Her tirade was over, only a few regrets were left in the bottle.

"Oh, and you're going to tell him all this, and I'm going to join Ricky, Judy, and the others, jobless and never to work anywhere in hospitality ever again."

Rachel was undone.

"Look, I won't talk," Rachel said softly. She put her hand on Lucy's hand. "But why didn't Charlie tell me all of this?"

Lucy, still fighting back the tears, sniffed. "Ha. Risk losing you again? She's not dumb. Last time you left, the only thing that stopped her from going to Alaska was that it had a bigger idiot running it. She knows she's tied to your star. She's running the entire West Coast operation now. Levant is tied down because of you, so she's practically running the whole operation. If you go, well, she might be back to running the Thornbury, if she's lucky. Did she help you with the contract?"

"Yeah, sure," said Rachel.

"She figured out what she did wrong herself and lucked out with you," Lucy said.

Rachel looked thoughtful for a second. "Did she sleep with Douglas?"

"Oh, I need a cigarette," Lucy said. "Yes, of course she did. It was like the first thing she did. She would have to use a boy's name on her resume, I would have made sure she didn't get anywhere near him if it wasn't for that mistake. She Didn't last long, didn't expect it to. She's desperate. Her boyfriend back east is rising fast, sucking every dick between Times Square and the Village to push his career. He'll be in Hollywood in a year. The worst thing is, all her college friends are much further up the corporate ladder than she is. She's falling behind them and feeling it. They're all hyper-determined career people, much more ruthless than she is. Even her friend Samantha is doing better than her, and all she has is you wearing her fucking dresses."

Rachel moved closer and put her arm around her. Lucy took a breath and exhaled deeply.

"Is it true she didn't tell you about Levant threatening to shut the Thornbury down if she couldn't find you again? I can't believe the bitch didn't want to guilt you into coming back. Honestly, what's wrong with that woman?"

It was clear that Lucy was just rambling. Fortunately, all the time Rachel had spent with Dr. Cooper now came into some use. Rachel put her arm around her.

Lucy continued, "Yeah, Charlie is struggling with how to create the right distance. She's been interviewing for other jobs, I can tell. Nothing yet. He doesn't know. You can see the desperation in her eyes. And another thing. You're killing him. You know he's completely lost control because of you. You and this project Zeitgeist are a total and utter distraction. He can't focus on the business. It's suffering. Charlie is doing a good job, but she doesn't have his instincts. You're clouding his judgment. Sorry, I'm rambling now..." Lucy took a deep breath before saying, "Like you, this project Zeitgeist is like an obsession..."

At that moment, the door opened. Lucy desperately pulled herself together.

"Lucy, Cinnamon, thanks for waiting," Levant said, looking fairly pleased.

Levant glanced at Lucy, who was sitting upright.

"You OK?" he asked.

"It's just the cold," Rachel said. "Let her sit up front near the heater with the driver, she'll be fine."

"Ólafur Traustadóttir and I were just about to have a look at one of the servers, then we can go," Levant said.

Rachel stood up eagerly. "Oh, can I have a look? I'd love to see a server farm."

Ólafur Traustadóttir looked over. "You would? Beautiful woman in there. That's new for the server."

They walked down the corridor while Ólafur Traustadóttir reached out to grab a huge, thick coat from a stout peg. Rachel followed as he donned it on his shoulders, giving him the appearance of a swift, jovial bear. The back door opened to another door, which led to a rapid drop in temperature. The wind stripped away what little heat there was from their bones. A few yards from the house, there was a door to an old, rusting container. Over their heads, metal ducting carried a thick power cable woven with others through a rough hole cut in the container's metal. It gave the setup a feeling of high sophistication.

Ólafur Traustadóttir said something to Levant, but in the wind, Rachel couldn't discern what he said or even what language he spoke. Ólafur Traustadóttir unlocked the container door with a large bar, which clanked loudly as he struggled with it.

They stepped from the bitter cold into sweltering tropical heat. Ólafur Traustadóttir closed the door tightly against the wind and moved his coat to a new peg. The wind fell silent, but the drone of thousands of fans took over.

"Wow," Rachel said, but her voice was barely audible.

The container was filled with cables that emerged from rack after rack of computers.

"You like my women? All Bitcoin," Ólafur Traustadóttir said, pointing at the racks. "Those Bitcoin, these Bitcoin."

"Are you doing Bitcoin mining?" Rachel asked Levant.

Levant looked around, puzzled. "What?"

"Are you doing Bitcoin mining?" Rachel shouted to Levant. In her excitement, her voice sounded more like a shout, resembling Denver. She quickly covered her mouth, feeling embarrassed.

Levant turned around and gestured to Ólafur Traustadóttir, holding his hand up. "Yes, sort of. I'm repurposing them for other uses, but primarily Bitcoin. Ólafur Traustadóttir built it."

"Icelandic power," Ólafur Traustadóttir said in his strong accent. "But the cooling, yeah, the cooling is free. Mother Nature, right? These are all my own work. I built them myself," he added as they walked down the corridor of cables. They reached the far end, passing rows of blinking lights that Rachel recognized as modern, top-spec servers. They arrived at a nook filled with screens and a keyboard. "These are the latest machines. All very good."

"Wow," Rachel said, impressed. At this end, the drone noise was less intense. "You must have ten thousand machines in here," Rachel said.

Ólafur Traustadóttir chuckled. "Twenty-three thousand in here."

"WOWWWW," Rachel exclaimed. "Your Discord server must be amazing."

Ólafur Traustadóttir laughed. "She's good, Douglas Levant. I like her," he said, typing in his password to log in.

"This is impressive," Levant said, looking pleased. He looked around. "Very good. The best. My people will get back to you with a contract. Okay, how about we move on? The plane is waiting," Levant said. He walked up and shook Traustadóttir's hand"

Rachel smiled. "Go Italy!"

They left, leaving Traustadóttir sitting at his machine, waving. They stepped out into the cold, enveloped by the mist surrounding the lone clapboard house. The ground was covered with dark dirt and gravel. The view would have been more reminiscent of the moon or a distant planet. In the sheltered area beside Ólafur Traustadóttir's house stood the massive SUV. Inside, Peter kept watch, sitting in the front with Lucy in the passenger seat.

Rachel hurried towards the SUV, but Levant passed her and opened the car door for her. Rachel quickly entered, feeling the heat from the container dissipate as she rushed in. She found it amusing, considering it was the opposite of her life in California--rushing from one air-conditioned space to another, with brief bursts of heat, hoping her makeup would stay intact.

In many ways, she didn't need the makeup now. The hormone replacement therapy had softened her skin, and subtle changes in her face had significantly framed a feminine appearance. Nevertheless, Douglas still preferred her in heavy makeup, and in their world, that was sufficient to make things happen.

The car started up, as the engine had been left running to provide heat for the luxurious SUV. Lucy appeared to have composed herself, attaining a fairly neutral state as they got in.

Rachel sat in the back and gazed out of the windows as they pulled away, slipping on the gravelly soil. "I wonder what Levant wants with twenty-three thousand servers," she asked herself. As they traveled, the mist began to dissipate near the car, and they passed another rusting container with a power cable connected to it. "Forty-six thousand servers," Rachel corrected herself. Then they passed another container, this time displaying a faded blue logo on its side. And another, as the SUV descended into a hollow that resembled a lunar crater. They continued to encounter container after container, with the order becoming more organized. Containers were now arranged in longer and longer rows on either side of the car. Rachel lost count of the number of containers they passed. As they drove, the mist cleared, revealing more of the vast expanse of machines. Row after row, like a formidable army of containers standing ready for battle.

As they pulled out of the hollow, Rachel gazed at the array of containers. Levant was up to something. She unfastened her seat belt and moved closer to Levant, pressing against him.

"Does anyone know what a Hallveig is?" Rachel asked.

"No, sounds like a girl's name. Why?" Lucy replied.

"Oh, I just saw it," Rachel said.

Then she continued in her mind, "being typed into the master control server."