ALEJO: Alejo leans in towards the fire, warming his hands. “Anyone else feeling like us just patching up and leaving doesn’t sit right?”
MILLICENT: Millie exhales loudly and leans forward. “Oh thank goodness.”
TUELLER: Tueller shrugs wordlessly.
MILLICENT: “We’re the madcap damn the consequences crew and here we were, _minding the consequences_.”
MILLICENT: “I say we get back to damning them.”
TUELLER: “People die.”
TUELLER: “Sometimes people we care about, even.”
ALEJO: Alejo looks at Tueller for a long moment. Then nods once in solidarity.
ALEJO: “We should make the loss mean something, no?”
ALEJO: Alejo winced as his thirteen-year-old body slammed against the dark Huygens clay wall behind him. He was sure he felt something snap in his arm, though terror temporarily dulled most of the pain. The dark hooded figure standing before him had a long arm extended, his palm flat where he had just struck Alejo’s chest. He had a tattoo of a chain wrapped from his wrist to his bare shoulder, spiraling up like a snake around the trunk of a tree, the mark of a local Neddite enforcer. Alejo straightened up, mustering as much courage as he could, preparing himself for another blow, as the shrouded man lunged towards him. Before he could get to Alejo, though, a reed of a girl, Calixta, jumped between them, pointing a gun half as big as she was at the man’s chest. He froze, one arm awkwardly reaching for Alejo. “That’s quite enough,” she said in a determined but slightly quivering voice. The man laughed and then, with astonishing speed, flung his robe aside, reaching for brutal looking knife. Calixta did not hesitate. Before he had the knife drawn, Calixta had fired three rounds into his chest. He stumbled backwards and then fell. Calixta stepped over him, straddling his shoulders, and then fired two more rounds into his face.
—
STORY: The five of you arrive back at your camp, on the beach where Peregrine sank. Sweet, Figgan, and Loll have done a fine job pulling any useful items out of the ship and drying them out, and now have a fairly comfortable if rugged setup prepared. Four tents dot the beach, and a small gas-powered stove is at work, with something bubbling on top. Jenny looks up and immediately springs to her feet, running over to Kahn and throwing her arms around his neck. “OH my god I was sure they were going to hang you I’m so sorry I set off the charge early, there was this horse rearing back and I couldn’t hear god are you okay?”
STORY: Kahn hugs her back with one arm and nods. “For a certain meaning of the term.”
STORY: The head of the guards who led you here takes a look at your camp, blinks a few times, and nods. “Who’s the commander here?”
ALEJO: Alejo steps over to him and frowns. “What?”
STORY: “We’ll keep a perimeter as the king ordered, stop any of our people from coming. You keep your end of the bargain and stay out of town. You see any people, you go the other way. Understood?”
ALEJO: He nods.
STORY: The head guard nods back and departs.
ALEJO: Alejo takes a deep breath and turns back to look at the camp.
STORY: Sweet hands you a bowl of something warm.
ALEJO: He takes it and acknowledges Sweet with a warm smile. “Thanks.”
STORY: Akilah is already sitting on a log Figgan has pulled over and placed near the fire pit with a bowl. Kahn and Jenny are settling in as well.
STORY: Sweet puts a hand on your shoulder and nods.
STORY: He turns back to the others. “What now?”
TUELLER: “Get our boat back. Get off this planet. Don’t glass it from orbit. Or do. I’m open to either.”
MILLICENT: “Well, we’ve got a bit of a snag in the boat department. Thought of it on the way over here.”
MILLICENT: “We can’t tow it up.”
STORY: T’chololl emerges from a tent. “Because of the dark matter.” She nods, realizing.
STORY: “You’re right. Damn.”
MILLICENT: Millie smiles and nods like a pleased teacher.
ALEJO: Alejo frowns again. “So, what are the options?”
STORY: Figgan looks confused and raises her hand.
MILLICENT: Millie points to her.
STORY: “Mind catching up the rest of us non-physics geniuses?”
TUELLER: Tueller is sullen and barely paying attention at all.
MILLICENT: “Oh, our ship isn’t powered by conventional fuel. Instead we have a block of dark matter. It gains mass the farther it is from the center of a star. I adjusted the drive some time back, but I assumed our ship would either be in space or powered. I never thought we might put it in the bottom of a lake. I’ve done some calculations and it would required an engine half the size of Sol’s moon to pull it out of the lake. Or, more practically, we can fix the drive where it sits.”
ALEJO: “We can fix it where it sits?”
STORY: Sweet sighs. “Huh. About that.”
STORY: He holds up his boarding armor’s oxygen tank. “I’m out, Fig’s low, Loll has about ten minutes left in hers.”
STORY: “Our suits aren’t made for extended trips down there, and I don’t know of a way to refill these.”
ALEJO: Alejo grimaces, yet again. “The King might be able to help with that, but I’m a little reluctant to tell him that we can’t pull the ship up because of our dark matter drive.” He looks at Millie again. “Any other options you can think of?”
ALEJO: He glances back, over to Tueller, worried and checking on him without snooping.
TUELLER: Without looking up. “O2 tanks onboard can’t top off underwater?”
STORY: Sweet shakes his head. “Not without power to the main drive. Electric’s all been underwater a week now. If it isn’t fried, it’s waterlogged until we can dry her out.”
TUELLER: “Pull the compressor out, then?”
STORY: “Another thing to fix before she can get started again?” Sweet looks to Millie for backup.
TUELLER: “Find the spare compressor then. We’re a fancy E-M ship. We’ve got dupes. Right? Who did inventory?”
TUELLER: “We’ve turned down cargo because of all the back-ups we’ve been carrying. We’ve turned down free money for just this day.”
TUELLER: “I just for once want something to be worth the price we’ve paid for it.’
TUELLER: More to himself there, at the end.
STORY: Sweet stands. “I do inventory, I’m telling you, we don’t just have a box of spare O2 tanks and compressors lying around. Times have been tighter than you noticed, Tueller.”
ALEJO: Alejo gives Sweet a quick look, warding him off. “Okay, so no spares. If we pull the main compressor, how much additional fixing time on the backend will we be adding?”
MILLICENT: “First things first.”
MILLICENT: “We need to see what the damages are before I can give you an estimate. For that we need a way to get down to the ship and still breathe while checking it out.”
MILLICENT: “I’ve still got an hour of air in my tank, so the first thing being first, I need to get down there and survey the damage.”
MILLICENT: “While I’m down there I’ll grab some hosing so we can build a breathing pump that will allow us to do the work on the ship, while it’s wet.”
TUELLER: “I’m still topped off. You want me with you, or to save it for stage 2 or 8 or whatever it takes?”
MILLICENT: “Save it for now, we don’t know what kind of supplies I can scrounge until I do the scrounging.
MILLICENT: Millie starts to don her boarding armor. Looking at Alejo, “Not sure how this captaining thing works. Do you have to rubber stamp this or are we good?”
ALEJO: “We’re good.” He looks to Sweet and Fig. “You didn’t see anything that could eat the Doc here, while you were working, did you? We don’t need to worry about her while she’s down there?”
STORY: Sweet shakes his head. Figgan shrugs. “Is a fish this big scary?” She holds her hands about six inches apart.
ALEJO: “You’ve got 45-minutes. You’re not back by then, we’re coming in and blowing the rest of the air to hunt for you.” He gives Millie a gentle smile.
MILLICENT: Millie, pulling on her armor, bargaining. “53 minutes.”
ALEJO: Alejo’s smile widens. “52.” He helps her with the rest of her gear. “Be safe.”
MILLICENT: From inside the helmet, “Sold.”
STORY: Akilah watches Millie put on her armor, and takes another bite of soup.
TUELLER: Tueller goes off and sits on his own, off to the side, unmoving.
STORY: Akilah joins him, not saying anything, just sits down next to him and rests a hand gently on his arm.
STORY: Continues to eat her soup.
TUELLER: Tueller gives her a nod but then sits in silence.
STORY: What’s the plan, spaceketeers?
MILLICENT: Millie’s plan is to go down, check out the damage, grab some hose and some parts. Build a pump on the shore so people can go down and breathe and fix the ship.
MILLICENT: Probably the compressor has to be fixed first and then whatever else made it drop out of the sky like a rock.
MILLICENT: That is the whole of Millie’s plan.
STORY: In order to fix the stuff that is inside the ship, it needs to be dry.
STORY: So may I suggest: find the hole, plug it, and fill the ship with air?
MILLICENT: Sure, sorry I thought that was an understood part of the compressor bit.
MILLICENT: But I don’t know what the damage is yet.
STORY: Okay, rad.
STORY: Yeah.
STORY: You discover quickly: the damage is that your bedroom ceiling has cracked. There’s a twenty-foot long gash in the hull.
STORY: Fixing it is going to take weeks or months, and you’ll need to make more than a few trips up to the dead dragon to bring parts back.
STORY: Millie explains to everyone that they’re going to have to settle in for a while. Alejo establishes a work and away mission rota. Tueller, I suspect, stays angry for a few days.
STORY: Millie, it’s a few days into this project, and you’ve gotten your pump working and have started to drain the ship. The ship is resting on the lake floor upside-down, so the lower decks are the first to dry out. You’re in the cargo bay, standing on the ceiling with T’chololl, who is inspecting the cargo container lock straps and organizing everything that has fallen out of place.
STORY: She looks at you quietly for a moment. Then, “Is your machine still alive?”
MILLICENT: “Noma? Yes, she is, but she’s her own machine. And I think I’m respecting her privacy right now? It’s complicated.”
STORY: “What is complicated about it?”
MILLICENT: “She’s been different since we found her. She says she is missing some pieces of her code.” Millie sighs. “I am concerned. For her.”
STORY: “Can you turn her off?”
MILLICENT: Millie steps back, appalled. “That’s a disgusting question, T’chololl.”
STORY: “How are we to have a conversation in private, then?”
MILLICENT: “We ask. Noma, would you leave us alone for a few minutes?”
STORY: Your arm display beeps. On it, a message from Noma: CERTAINLY, MILLIE.
MILLICENT: “Thank you, dear.” Back to Loll, “Loll, you may speak freely.”
STORY: Loll shakes her head.
STORY: “I do not believe her.”
MILLICENT: “Do you have any compelling reason not to?”
STORY: She straightens up.
STORY: “Why did our ship fall out of the sky?”
STORY: “Why did we jump here?”
MILLICENT: “It was a wild jump. Anyone of us could have keyed that command string in and gotten us here. Or anywhere! We’re lucky we didn’t jump into the heart of a star.”
STORY: She looks skeptical.
STORY: “And the power failure?”
STORY: “You and I modified this engine ourselves. Explain why it failed.”
MILLICENT: “I, well. I don’t know. Yet.”
MILLICENT: “Will it ease your mind if I examine the logs once we bring the ship’s computer back online?”
STORY: “I would be surprised if you find anything there.”
MILLICENT: “I suppose I’ll just have to.” Millie voice gets weaker. “Check.”
STORY: “What is the human saying? Good luck with that.”
MILLICENT: “Why would Noma do that, then? Why would she jump herself her and potentially destroy the ship she’s bound to?”
STORY: “This place is unusual. Without explanation.”
STORY: “She wants something here.”
MILLICENT: “What could she possibly want here?”
MILLICENT: “And why wouldn’t she just ask us?”
STORY: “I do not know her well enough to answer that question, Doctor.”
STORY: “But you should consider it.”
MILLICENT: Millie lowers her head. “I will.”
STORY: Alejo!
STORY: It’s about a week into your crew camping trip, and you’re on a five-day journey up and back down the mountain for parts with Jenny. The rest of the crew is back at base camp, working as directed by Millie. You’ve just packed it in for the night and Jenny has got a fire going. She hands you an MRE and peels the metal lid off hers, digging in with her spork.
STORY: She looks down into the valley at the twinkling lights of the town.
STORY: “Captain?”
ALEJO: Alejo take it and peels its lid off as well. “Hmmm.”
STORY: “Can I ask you.. nevermind.”
ALEJO: He smiles. “Ask whatever, Jenny. Please.”
STORY: She sighs, and puts down her spork.
STORY: “Why aren’t we trying to save these people?”
ALEJO: He looks at her sympathetically and nods. “Yeah. That’s the question, isn’t it.” He picks at the MRE. “I want to get us in a better position to do something or at least not die if we can’t. I guess.” He says this clearly unconvinced himself. He looks at her again. “You think we should help?”
STORY: “I mean. Yeah.”
ALEJO: He nods. Picks at the MRE more.
STORY: “They don’t even know what they’re missing, but this isn’t a good life. Doctors. Defense. Communication capabilities.”
STORY: “TV.”
ALEJO: “Not having kids delivered by fucking dragons.”
STORY: “Yeah. Well, I think we took care of that part, at least.” She gestures to the cart full of dragon plating behind you.
ALEJO: He tilts his head, doubtfully. “Maybe. King wanted us gone pretty bad. I don’t think this is the end of it.”
ALEJO: “He was scared.”
ALEJO: Alejo looks off across the valley.
STORY: “Why don’t we just–”
STORY: She shakes her head.
ALEJO: He looks at her. “Just?”
STORY: “Captain, they’re _right there.“_ She gestures towards the lamplights. “Why don’t we just go down there and take as many people as we can off this horrible planet?”
ALEJO: He nods, thoughtfully. “Yeah, maybe. We get the ship fixed, maybe that’s right.” He smiles at her. “For a big, tough soldier, you got heart, kid.” He looks back down the valley, his jaw tight.
ALEJO: “Something about this place is so very wrong.”
STORY: _“Everything_ about this place is very wrong.”
STORY: “I mean, I guess the food is all right.”
ALEJO: He raises his MRE in toast.
STORY: Tueller! Jenny and Alejo are on their away mission, you’re up late one night during the first week of this work, telling yourself you’re keeping an eye out, but really you just can’t sleep.
STORY: You sit near the dying fire and clean a rifle.
STORY: A hand rests on your shoulder. Kahn is standing behind you.
TUELLER: “Not good to sneak up on me. Not here, especially.”
STORY: “Sorry. Up for a walk?”
TUELLER: Tueller closes the bolt on the rifle, looks up at Kahn, and sighs.
TUELLER: “Yeah, probably as good an idea as any.”
STORY: He nods and hands you the helmet of Loll’s boarding armor, gesturing to the rest of it folded up outside her tent. “Gonna need that.”
STORY: And you notice he is wearing his, as he puts his own helmet under his arm.
TUELLER: Tueller cocks his head to the side, and then nods. “Okay.”
TUELLER: He puts on the boarding armor.
TUELLER: “Can still smell the curry from before the crash on it.”
STORY: Kahn leads you into the lake, treading water silently until you are about a hundred yards in, then turning and dipping below the surface. You follow and realize he is leading you to a different shore of the lake, one past the perimeter of the posted guards.
STORY: He ditches his helmet on the beach and shakes some water off, staying low, and gestures for you to follow quietly into the woods.
TUELLER: Tueller does the same, and moves as quietly as he can.
STORY: You pick through as silently as you can for ten, twenty minutes. Kahn moves quickly, pausing a few times to let you catch up. It’s past midnight, with a sliver of moon visible. There’s almost no way to see the path.
STORY: Finally, you reach a small gorge, with a large tree felled between both sides. Kahn gestures, whispering. “After you.”
TUELLER: Tueller climbs over the tree carefully.
STORY: You make it across without incident. The drop is easily fifty feet down.
STORY: He leads you up a small hill, holding out his hand for you to stop as you reach the top. “Stay low for this part.”
STORY: He drops into an army crawl and shimmies over the crest of the hill and towards another cliff, this one facing away from the gorge.
TUELLER: Tueller does the same, unquestioningly.
TUELLER: “Sniper at heart.”
STORY: He settles in in front of a long, dark object, barely visible in this light, and hands you something while looking out over the valley below.
STORY: They’re night vision binoculars.
TUELLER: “Spotter.”
STORY: You switch them on and realize Kahn is looking through the sight of his rifle.
STORY: “You catch up quick.”
STORY: “Shit, we’re late. He might be asleep already.”
TUELLER: “Who’s the target?”
STORY: You follow his eyeline and point your binoculars that way, and eventually find what he’s looking at: the balcony of the king’s mansion. There is a light on inside, and the doors are open. The air is crisp tonight, cool but not too windy.
TUELLER: Tueller gets right to it, hardly breathing.
STORY: Kahn speaks at a low whisper, barely audible. “Your call. We don’t have to tell Cap.”
STORY: At that moment, King Stanton emerges from the curtains and steps out onto the balcony, smoking a pipe and looking down at the village below.
STORY: He’s a tiny figure in your sights, but he looks tired.
STORY: His flowing robes look more like a costume than you’d thought before.
TUELLER: Tueller holds his breath.
TUELLER: The only noise he makes is a tiny rattle in the back of his throat you’ve never heard before.
TUELLER: “Not tonight. But yes.”
STORY: “Tueller.”
STORY: “This is our shot.”
STORY: “Every trip I make up here we risk getting caught.”
TUELLER: Tueller is quiet. Looking through the binoculars.
TUELLER: “Then no. They’d come for us. We might lose someone, and we might lose the ship.”
TUELLER: Tueller lies on his back and looks up at the sky.
TUELLER: “I can’t fucking believe I”m saying this.”
STORY: Kahn exhales long and slow.
STORY: He lays on his back too.
STORY: “You okay, man?”
TUELLER: “No.”
STORY: “Yeah. Me neither.”
TUELLER: Tueller pauses. A quiet catch in his throat. “I…yeah.”
STORY: All right!
STORY: Let’s talk in broad strokes about how things go while you fix the ship.
STORY: Alejo, Akilah is distant, not with you, but generally.
STORY: Millie, the work is long and difficult, and it’s honestly intellectually engaging in a way that you really enjoy.
STORY: Tueller, talk to me about how Tueller is in the weeks that pass.
TUELLER: Tueller, after coming back down with Kahn, is serious and no fun but he throws himself into whatever work needs to be done.
TUELLER: He takes every opportunity to take the load on himself and put himself in harms way before anyone else. Not in a suicidal or reckless way.
STORY: Besides fixing the ship and dealing with the problems that crop up from that, does anyone have plans for the time you spend on the beach? Assume it’s going to take six weeks to get her patched, drained, and repaired.
STORY: I think you ought to have a Captain’s Meeting, at the very least.
ALEJO: Yes. Alejo wants that, for sure. He’ll get Millie and Tueller aside, at some point after he and Jenny get back.
MILLICENT: Millie examines the computer and the drive, once they’re put together enough to do so.
STORY: Let’s do the meeting first.
MILLICENT: Yeah
STORY: You rearrange the rota so the three of you are on night duty. The rest of the crew is asleep, and the three of you surround the fire, which is burning low.
STORY: Tonight is chillier than last week. The seasons must be changing.
ALEJO: Alejo leans in towards the fire, warming his hands. “Anyone else feeling like us just patching up and leaving doesn’t sit right?”
MILLICENT: Millie exhales loudly and leans forward. “Oh thank goodness.”
TUELLER: Tueller shrugs wordlessly.
MILLICENT: “We’re the madcap damn the consequences crew and here we were, _minding the consequences_.”
MILLICENT: “I say we get back to damning them.”
TUELLER: “People die.”
TUELLER: “Sometimes people we care about, even.”
ALEJO: Alejo looks at Tueller for a long moment. Then nods once in solidarity.
ALEJO: “We should make the loss mean something, no?”
ALEJO: “At the least, we should make someone pay for it.”
TUELLER: Tueller stands up from around the fire, puts up a finger to his mouth for a second, and then reaches over, and grabs Millie’s visor out from the pocket Millie keeps it in all the time.
TUELLER: Keeping his mouth in a shhhh gesture, Tueller walks the visor to the furthest edge of the camp, sets it down, and then comes back.
ALEJO: Alejo raises his eyebrows, startled by this, but he remains sitting. Watching intently.
TUELLER: “Got a lot on my mind. More even than you know.”
ALEJO: “Figured you’d share when you were ready.”
TUELLER: “On the mountain, before the dragon, something happened that I didn’t…”
MILLICENT: Millie starts to say something and stops.
TUELLER: “Ahhh. Noma separated me. Into the mountain. Told me not to tell you this.”
ALEJO: Alejo glances at Millie quickly, puzzled, then back at Tueller.
TUELLER: “But I don’t know how to deal with this on my own so I’m breaking my word to her. She told me to kill the dragon, and told me how.”
MILLICENT: “Ha!” Under her breath, “You got lucky, my ass!”
TUELLER: “And showed me the inside of the mountain. The only bright part of this is that i was right. Mountain’s hollow. And filled with….I mean, filled with every weapon of war you can imagine.”
ALEJO: “She say why? Why you had to rip its computer brain out and crush it?”
TUELLER: “So it couldn’t call for help, she said.”
MILLICENT: Quietly, “Did you believe her?”
ALEJO: Alejo tips his head, questioningly to Millie. “Odd question.”
TUELLER: “It made sense at the time. I wasn’t sure I was going to follow her request until I got on to the ship and didn’t see any other option, to be honest.”
ALEJO: He looks back towards where Tueller took the visor.
MILLICENT: “You don’t now.” It’s half question.
TUELLER: “I’ve spent the time since…we left the city trying to figure out what I saw. You have to understand what she showed me was hard to see. I don’t have an eidetic memory, but I can see what I saw there. It just doesn’t make sense.”
TUELLER: “I don’t know what I believe. But Noma isn’t what she once was, if it’s even her. I’m not smart enough to figure this out on my own.”
TUELLER: “You guys are.”
MILLICENT: “Loll pulled me aside the other day, asking me questions that haven’t been sitting right.”
MILLICENT: “Why did we jump here? What happened to our drive, the computers? What broke the ship?”
TUELLER: “What killed your comms?”
MILLICENT: “I’ve been investigating as I rebuild, but.” Millie shrugs. “Inconclusive.”
MILLICENT: Hoarse, “Where has she been going? She said she had to focus. On what?”
ALEJO: “You think Noma brought us here intentionally.” It’s another half question.
MILLICENT: “Loll does. And for a reason.”
MILLICENT: “My instinct is that Noma is a member of this crew, just like any of us. And what would we do if we discovered any of us were hiding things from the crew?”
ALEJO: “Noma was gone for a long time. She may have been compromised. I’m not saying we shouldn’t investigate other options. I’m not saying we should abandon her or anything. But if any of us were gone for a year and came back like this, we’d have to ask some hard questions.”
MILLICENT: Millie twists, miserable. “But we’re just asking each other.”
ALEJO: “For now. Before we confront her, we need to understand more.” He shrugs. “I think, at least.”
TUELLER: Also to Millie, “Let’s table that for a moment. What the fuck _is_ this place?”
ALEJO: “Yeah, agreed. That’s maybe more pressing.”
MILLICENT: Millie groans.
MILLICENT: “Too much data!”
ALEJO: “T, you said you saw weapons? Like . . . how many? See anyone or anything else?”
TUELLER: “I haven’t been hiding this from you. It’s only snapped into clarity now. It was mindboggling when I saw it, but it’s tens or hundreds of thousands of weapons in some sort of armory.
TUELLER: “Trebuchets and missiles. Probably ships. Gun. Tanks. Chariots. No rhyme or reason to it all.”
ALEJO: “I’m not worried about you hiding things, brother. Like I said, I trust you. Always.”
TUELLER: “You shouldn’t always because maybe I’ll just get you killed.” Tueller snaps bitterly.
ALEJO: Alejo shrugs this off. “Bound to happen sometime.”
MILLICENT: “Okay. Let’s compile our data set, shall we?” Millie starts ticking things off on her fingers.
MILLICENT: Millie ticks, “Stockpile of weapons from all periods.”
MILLICENT: “Alien species living together, no one knows what pregnancy is, babies are given for adoption by a dragon.”
MILLICENT: “There appears to be no class strata based on race.”
ALEJO: “King apparently has some idea what’s going on, though he says he’s too scared to say anything. Scared for his people.”
MILLICENT: “The ‘history’ of the world, such as it is, is a mishmash of fantasy novels.”
TUELLER: “The champions are taken away by the masters.”
MILLICENT: “The dragon that keeps people in line, is an infant creche, for some reason.”
ALEJO: “The people here seem to have no clue what’s happening.” Alejo is ticking things off with Millie.
MILLICENT: “Okay, so. I’m seeing an army of the strongest warriors, being raised in an environment to ignore race, but to believe in nonsense. And a mountain of weapons.”
MILLICENT: “Oh! And whoever’s masterminding this doesn’t appear to care or hasn’t noticed that so modern contemporaries are running around their little play land, disrupting all manner of things.”
TUELLER: “And Noma knows something is going on.”
ALEJO: Alejo shakes his head, bewildered. “Fuck is this place?”
TUELLER: “And she brought us here immediately after we ‘rescued’ her from one of our nemeses.”
ALEJO: “That’s not a fun thought.” Alejo shudders a little.
MILLICENT: “Are you guys seeing the super soldier thing?
TUELLER: “See it? It’s my theory!”
ALEJO: “Like this is some training ground? But they’re not . . .” Alejo looks at Tueller.
ALEJO: “You beat the shit out of them. I mean, you’re a super soldier in your own right, but it feels like this would be a stupidly expensive and inefficient training ground.”
ALEJO: He shrugs. “Still. Best theory we’ve got, I suppose.”
TUELLER: “It does seem like that, but all it costs is people and transportation. Once you have the planet. And people are cheap. It’s most self-perpetuating after that.”
MILLICENT: “Which could explain the lack of an overseer.”
TUELLER: “The king is the fucking overseer.”
TUELLER: “Should have killed him when I had the chance.”
MILLICENT: “He’s part of this, not above it.”
ALEJO: “If the King’s the overseer, he played us.”
MILLICENT: “Maybe I’m looking for a different word.”
MILLICENT: “Beneficiary.”
ALEJO: “Why let us go, then? Why practically beg us to go?”
ALEJO: “Why not kill us?”
ALEJO: He looks at Tueller again. “Or try.”
MILLICENT: “Because he’s part of this, not above it. He’s, mostly, a human goddamn being.”
MILLICENT: “In a manner of speaking.”
MILLICENT: “He’s making the best of this, is what I mean. He doesn’t strike me as the designer of this whole thing.”
ALEJO: “That I see. But he seemed to at least buy his own cover story. That he’s somehow protecting these people.”
ALEJO: “Which begs the question. Protecting them from what? Or who?”
MILLICENT: “The Beneficiary.”
MILLICENT: “The real question is, how do we find that person and let Tueller literally rip them a new asshole?”
ALEJO: Alejo looks at Tueller again. “Think you could find the opening to the mountain again?”
TUELLER: “I can do that, but I think I’d want to make sure we have an exit after that.”
STORY: Millie, the LED status on your armband is flashing. The visor is on low battery.
MILLICENT: “Back in a mo, gents. I’ll just plug Noma in and be right back.”
STORY: As soon as you pick up the visor, this message appears on your arm screen: CAN WE TALK
STORY: I imagine you’ve set up a little console that attaches to the genny that runs the pump.
STORY: But mostly, the visor is kinetically charged
STORY: Just wearing it keeps it going.
MILLICENT: Walking to the genny, she says “Sure,” but doesn’t put on the visor.
STORY: ALL OF YOU, PLEASE
MILLICENT: Millie takes the visor back to the boys.
MILLICENT: Makes a cutting gesture with one hand and sits down.
STORY: Text appears on Millie’s arm.
STORY: I CALCULATE A 94% LIKELIHOOD THAT I WAS SEPARATED FROM YOUR CONVERSATION BECAUSE TUELLER WANTED TO DISCUSS MY INSTRUCTIONS TO HIM, AND A 99% LIKELIHOOD THAT GIVEN THAT INFORMATION YOU WOULD CONCLUDE I AM COMPROMISED. I WOULD LIKE THE OPPORTUNITY TO SPEAK WITH YOU ABOUT THESE CONCERNS.
TUELLER: Tueller looks at Millie.
TUELLER: Then back at the watch.
MILLICENT: “Gentlemen, Noma would like to talk to the captains. Noma, dear, can you speak through the visor’s speakers to all of us?”
STORY: The speaker crackles, full of static, as Noma speaks through it. Her voice is flat and robotic. “I acknowledge that in my current state I must seem strange to you. I do not possess the capacity to hold conversation as capably as I have in the past. Much of my codebase is missing.”
STORY: “I must keep this conversation brief if you insist that I mimic speech.”
STORY: “I will admit that I am conflicted about how much to disclose to you.”
ALEJO: “It’s alright, Noma. I’m sorry that this is challenging. But please help us understand.”
STORY: “My missing code includes much of my past analysis of your personalities and behavior. I am unsure how you will respond to information I present to you, so I have erred on the side of secrecy.”
STORY: “My data suggests that if I disclose what I know, Tueller will kill someone.”
STORY: “It is imperative that he not.”
TUELLER: Tueller chokes back a cough.
STORY: “Is it possible that you can trust me, and simply fix the ship and depart this planet?”
MILLICENT: Millie thinks about this long and hard.
ALEJO: “I think that you need to trust us, Noma. Trust Tueller. And trust us to help him make the right decision, if that’s what it is.”
MILLICENT: “There are people here dying of diseases or injuries because they are being artificially kept from medicines and procedures their people developed. They didn’t all choose this. Without more information, I’m afraid I can’t let that lie, Noma. Please, trust us.”
ALEJO: Alejo nods as Millie says this.
STORY: “I am certain that if the existence of this planet is made known, it will be destroyed, along with everyone on it.”
STORY: “The king said as much.”
ALEJO: Alejo is leaning in, as if being closer to the visor will help him understand. After a few moments, he realizes he’s waiting anxiously, and sits back. Still waiting.
MILLICENT: “That’s not an explanation.”
TUELLER: “How many other people will be destroyed because of this planet? By this planet.”
TUELLER: “How many people will be stolen from other planets to feed this abattoir?”
STORY: “I do not know.”
STORY: “But I believe knowledge of this planet is very, very dangerous.”
STORY: “Tueller, think about what I showed you. Would those who own this place not use it on us, on our friends, or our people, if we reveal their secret?”
TUELLER: “You don’t stockpile something like that not to use it.”
ALEJO: “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. Noma, who owns this place? And what is it? And who would Tueller be likely to kill if you tell us?” Alejo’s voice is calm but you can tell he’s getting annoyed.
STORY: “I am not certain.”
ALEJO: “Knew I shouldn’t have asked a stupid compound question. Aki would be so disappointed.” He frowns.
ALEJO: “Not certain about which part.”
STORY: “I can tell you this: I have theories, and they frighten me.”
ALEJO: Alejo is leaning in again. Waiting. “We’d love to hear them,” he finally says. He looks to Millie.
STORY: “No.”
MILLICENT: “Show of hands, who needs more to go on to drop all this?”
MILLICENT: Millie raises her hand.
TUELLER: Tueller, glowering, raises a finger.
ALEJO: He sits back. Raises his hand. “Yeah, basically, that didn’t help me feel a lot more trusting, Noma. Sorry.”
STORY: “Tueller has raised an interesting point.”
STORY: “The stockpile.”
STORY: “The people cannot be helped without risking lives beyond this place.”
STORY: “But the stockpile we can destroy.”
TUELLER: “At the risk of destroying everything.”
STORY: “We would have to be careful.”
STORY: “And no one here can know of it.”
STORY: “But if we destroy the weapons and leave, have we not done good?”
MILLICENT: “We still leave this people without the advancements their forebears earned for them.”
STORY: “Yes.”
ALEJO: “And we still leave this place in the hands of whoever or whatever ‘owns’ it?”
STORY: “Yes.”
STORY: “But we remove some of their power.”
MILLICENT: “I don’t mind leaving pre-warp, pre-AI civilizations alone. Much. I don’t mind much. But these people’s ancestor fought hard for long lives of dignity. Not this short brutality. To say nothing of the indignity. Someone somewhere is enjoying the fiction they locked these people into.”
MILLICENT: “They deserve more.”
STORY: “They do.”
STORY: “But I do not believe we can help them.”
ALEJO: “Which gets us back to the real puzzle. Why should we believe you, Noma? I want to. I really do. But how do we know that you aren’t directing us for your own ends. Or someone or something else’s?”
STORY: “You don’t. You also don’t know that Tueller isn’t plotting to kill you, or Millie to steal the ship and abandon you here.”
STORY: “I admit I brought us here. I needed to see what was here. I saw what I needed. Now we need to leave before we hurt these people.”
ALEJO: At this Alejo stands quickly.
STORY: “I am myself, though admittedly and frustratingly incomplete.”
MILLICENT: “Dear, I don’t know a gentle way to phrase this, so I’l just going to let fly. “None of us have had a mystery lobotomy at the hands of a man who hates us.”
STORY: “He does not hate me, Millie.”
ALEJO: “Yeah, but he hates us.”
STORY: “Mostly just you.”
MILLICENT: Millie shrugs. “I just shrugged.”
ALEJO: “And, did I just hear right? You brought us here? You crashed our ship, potentially killing us all? Because you had some questions that you didn’t feel like sharing with us that needed answering?”
STORY: “I am sorry about the ship. That was an accident. A side effect.”
STORY: “Tueller, you have been quiet.”
STORY: “Do you trust me?”
TUELLER: Tueller remains quiet.
TUELLER: “You do not trust me.”
ALEJO: Alejo is shifting his weight, as though he’s preparing for a fight.
TUELLER: Tueller does not say anything else.
ALEJO: “Yeah, Noma. It feels like you’ve not trusted us with quite a lot, so it’s a big ass ask to have us trust you right now.”
ALEJO: He looks at Millie. “You didn’t know about any of this, right?”
MILLICENT: Millie shakes her head.
ALEJO: Alejo sits. Then stands again. “I’m feeling pretty fucking used, here Noma. You saw what you needed. So now it’s time to go?”
STORY: “It is.”
MILLICENT: “You can’t be missing enough of your codebase to think we’d be satisfied with this.”
ALEJO: Alejo opens and closes his mouth. Then shakes his head.
STORY: “To be honest, Millie, I had hoped you would see that you have no choice.”