STORY: “You see that?”
STORY: Calixta points at the screen.
MILLICENT: “It’s a bathroom.”
STORY: “Jump relays aren’t crewed.”
STORY: “What’s a bathroom doing inside one?”
MILLICENT: “It’s kind of a nice bathroom.”
MILLICENT: “What’s living on the jump relays?”
MILLICENT: Millie settled into her bunk clutching her deck to her chest with a happy sigh. It had taken weeks, but she’d worked out the kinks in the ship’s new power source. No one at the university, hell, no one at the Ark, had a trirubidium fueled ship, Millie thought as she laid back with a smile. Sometimes being a super genius was fun.
MILLICENT: She heard a light tapping as someone stepped softly up the stairs and padded down the hall. Millie sat up, regretting not closing the door. This new crew was awful noisy sometimes, all but one of them. Millie put her deck down and stuck her head out the door. “Mr. Soto, I assume there’s some reason you’re breaking into my infirmary at this hour.”
MILLICENT: Alejo grinned a guilty and altogether not unpleasant grin. “Technically, doctor, it’s my infirmary_ now that I’ve stolen your ship. I wanted to get some bandages for Kahn to keep in his gear. He won’t admit it, but he likes this fancy Erde Maris tech. He won’t accept them from you, but if I were to,” he shrugs, “steal some for him he’d take those.” At Millie’s look, “Weird, I know, but.”
MILLICENT: “No, Mr. Soto, not weird, I can understand Mr. Vespertine’s pride. It’s just. It’s a very thoughtful gesture.” She smiled at him. “Well, don’t let me interrupt The Great Bandage Caper.”
MILLICENT: They laughed together for the first time.
—
STORY: The journey back to the Ark will take about a month, it’s two jumps and long journeys between each. The crew aboard the stolen craft Augusta King are badly wounded, and recovering slowly. After she sets a course, Calixta helps whoever she can with getting comfortable and getting treatment from Millie. Tueller, Ryo, Kahn, Calixta, and Millie herself are nursing gunshot wounds. Astra is shaken up and finds a bunk to hide in. After everyone’s wounds are addressed and the others are resting, Calixta sits silently in the galley for a long while, staring out the window.
STORY: With most of the crew bedridden and Millie doing rounds, it’s days before anyone runs into each other and has to talk.
STORY: But eventually it happens, after Astra makes coffee during Millie’s daily mandated short recovery walks and the smell tempts each of you.
STORY: Tueller, you’re on your feet but moving slowly. If you take it easy the rest of this journey, you should be back in fighting shape by the time you see Akilah again.
TUELLER: If I survive that.
STORY: Ryo, you took a shot in the side, your first. It hurts, but you recognize you’re far from the worst off here. Millie, you talked Calixta through giving you some stitches and have been in working order for days now.
STORY: Kahn and Calixta are sitting at the galley table, talking quietly.
MILLICENT: Millie heads to the mess. While at your bedsides Millie has kept herself quietly composed. Her face and hair are always washed, her clothes are clean and kempt. She is a picture of competence and, if not good cheer, then professional hope in your good recoveries. Today she comes straight from her quarters and it’s clear she’s spent the last week crying when not in front of her patients.
STORY: Calixta gets up quickly and fetches you a coffee, Millie. It’s prepared just the way you take it.
RYO: Ryo enters the mess and heads to the coffee.
STORY: Astra has yours ready and hands it over with a small nod.
RYO: He gives her a weak smile in return. “Thank you.”
MILLICENT: Millie takes her coffee, sits and stares into it for a long time.
TUELLER: Tueller arrives, learning on a cane. It’s an ostentatious wooden cane, a discerning collector can tell it comes from wood made from Alchera, near the galactic core, and it’s fantastically expensive, which is good because otherwise it wouldn’t bear how much weight Tueller is putting on it. He walks very slowly and painfully. “Is that real coffee?”
STORY: Astra nods and hands you one, offering milk and sugar.
TUELLER: “Good for the heart, right Doc?”
MILLICENT: Millie nods quietly and looks into her coffee.
TUELLER: Tueller sits down abruptly; it’s clear his legs aren’t strong enough to ease into a chair, so he lands hard on it.
TUELLER: Coffee doesn’t spill, though.
RYO: Ryo sits as well. “Nice cane,” he says admiringly.
TUELLER: “You a connoisseur? I spent a little time on Alchera. They…” Tueller trails off, face blank in a way that those who know him know means lots of pain.
TUELLER: “Good trees,” he finally says.
RYO: Ryo nods, sympathetically. “My first time being shot, I confess. I don’t care for it.” He takes a sip of coffee. “And I don’t know that I’m connoisseur, but I do enjoy beautiful things.”
STORY: After a long moment of silence, Calixta takes an audible deep breath and blows it out.
STORY: “First thing I remember of him is beating him in a fight. He was small as a kid, always wanted to prove himself, you know?”
STORY: She blows a hair off her forehead and self-consciously brushes it back with her hand.
STORY: “He, uh. Just kept getting up. I broke two of his ribs, he got up. Gave him a concussion.”
STORY: She shakes her head.
STORY: “He got up.”
STORY: She shakes her head again, and covers her mouth with a hand.
STORY: Closes her eyes and breathes again.
STORY: Kahn takes a drink of his coffee, then puts it down, staring at the floor. “I was a double agent. Like him.”
STORY: “It’s how he clocked me.”
STORY: “My family was so in debt to Chandra the only way out was to work for the company.”
STORY: Kahn looks up at Ryo sadly.
STORY: “He got me out. I told him I’d stay, pay him back the favor.”
STORY: “Not sure I ever did.”
TUELLER: “He didn’t keep track of who owed who. Or, at least, he never let on that he did.”
TUELLER: “We were in a bunch of fights. Man saved my life more than anyone else I know. If you press me, I can probably remember the details of some of them. But it’s just details. He shot the guy who’d shoot me, he pulled me up from a ledge–pulled me. I did the same. It was just a thing we did.”
TUELLER: “Only thing I really kept track of, and I mean really kept track of was when he pulled me out of the spiral after Nandini.”
TUELLER: Tueller shakes his head, and falls silent again.
MILLICENT: Millie looks into her coffee. “He stole my ship. Walked on board like he owned it and like I’d agreed to give him a tour.”
RYO: Ryo smiles at this.
TUELLER: “You tried to throw us out the airlock.”
STORY: Kahn raises his arm. “Remember?”
TUELLER: “Part of us at least.”
MILLICENT: “I do remember. And the part he took the most personally was that I’d called him rude and he thought he’d been quite friendly about it.”
STORY: Kahn smiles, then looks like he might cry.
RYO: Ryo laughs softly.
MILLICENT: Millie smiles up at Kahn. “Sorry again about your arm.”
STORY: Kahn lifts his shirt, showing the bandage from the gunshot wound you just treated. “Call it even.”
TUELLER: “Too many damn people gone.” To himself.
MILLICENT: Millie nods.
STORY: Calixta is watching Ryo.
TUELLER: “Doesn’t feel worth it.”
TUELLER: “Not sure what would make it worth it.”
RYO: Ryo notices. He looks around the table. “So, maybe this is the time to ask precisely what this is all about. What did Chandra have you working on Doctor Breedlove? Whatever it was, I wasn’t given access, and that suggests to me that something is worth quite a lot.”
STORY: Calixta stands.
STORY: “You have nothing to say?”
TUELLER: Tueller looks briefly angry and then neutral again.
TUELLER: Too worn out to continue with it.
RYO: Ryo sighs. “Alejo was an asshole. But the most charming asshole I’ve ever met. The first time we met, he punched me in the face. The last time I saw him, he did the same. He was no fool. And I think that the best thing that I can say or do is to figure out what he gave his life for.”
TUELLER: “Speeding us through the wake is not the best way to win our hearts and minds.”
STORY: Calixta tongues a tooth, then nods. She moves to the kitchen and opens drawers, looking for something.
RYO: Ryo nods. “I understand. I’m not good at this. And, admittedly, I knew him far less well than all of you. I mean no disrespect.”
STORY: She returns to the group with a bottle, removing the cap and taking a swig.
STORY: “Alejo.”
STORY: She extends her arm to Ryo, offering it.
RYO: He takes it. “Alejo.” He raises it and then takes a swig. He passes it to Millie.
MILLICENT: “Alejo,” Millie says softly and takes a swig, then passes it to Kahn.
STORY: “Alejo.” He drinks, and passes it to Astra.
STORY: She looks nervous, but raises the bottle and says “Alejo” before taking a sip and passing it to Tueller.
TUELLER: “Ejo,” Tueller’s voice cracks and then he takes a swig, then pours another swig out on the deck of the ship. “Our captain.”
STORY: Calixta takes the bottle back from you and, after a sigh, spins and throws it against the bulkhead.
TUELLER: Tueller winces.
MILLICENT: Millie looks up, startled.
STORY: It shatters and sprays whiskey on a few of you.
STORY: Calixta turns back. “All right. Now business.”
STORY: She gestures to Ryo. “Ask again.”
RYO: Ryo gives it a long moment. Then he nods. “Mr. Ya’Makasi was quite right. I apologize again for my rudeness. But I do think that it matters. What Alejo died giving us access to. Whatever is on that drive was something of monumental importance to Chandra, and he was not a man of whims.”
MILLICENT: Millie finally sips her coffee.
MILLICENT: “I was working on it. I haven’t finished it, didn’t really get started, yet. And then there was an insane escape and all of us were shot and Alejo is gone.” She stops, steadies herself. Sips coffee. When she speaks again her voice is calmer. “I need time. But please believe me that I intend to find out exactly what Chandra wanted.”
MILLICENT: “What I want to know, what no one has told me, is what exactly happened back there?”
TUELLER: “I started a fight not knowing if I could win, and Ejo was the price.”
TUELLER: “That’s what you want to know, right? Who’s fault it was? It was mine.”
TUELLER: “Tormod offered a deal–or hinted at one–and I killed him.”
RYO: “I don’t mean to quibble, Mr. Ya’Makasi, but Chandra Tormond was never going to make a deal that allowed Alejo to live. So, you did the best that you could under duress.”
MILLICENT: Millie’s face flashes a mixture of emotion. Shock, anger, betrayal, finally, resigned, “Of course you did.”
TUELLER: “No, don’t forgive me, please.”
MILLICENT: “Oh, Tueller.” Millie rises from her chair and walks over to him. Looks at him a beat.
TUELLER: Tueller is very monotone.
MILLICENT: “Would you like me to kick your ass?”
TUELLER: Tueller starts crying.
MILLICENT: Millie hugs him, gingerly.
TUELLER: “More than absolutely anything, yes.”
STORY: Calixta stands. “I can do it for you.”
MILLICENT: “I know, I know.” Millie puts a hand up toward Calixta, shoots her a look.
STORY: Calixta’s face is a mix of emotions, but they all want to punch Tueller.
MILLICENT: “Trouble is, if I kick your ass for this, well, you’d have to kick my ass for Noma. And if we started kicking everyone’s ass who has acted like a terrific fool we’d simply have no asses left.”
STORY: Calixta softens. “You didn’t lose Noma, Millie.”
STORY: “I’m right here.”
RYO: Ryo sits back in his chair and observes all of this quietly but intensely. Ryo looks at her.
RYO: His eyebrows raise. “Ahh.” He smiles.
STORY: She turns back to the table, picks up her coffee with a shaky hand, and finishes it, returning it to the table.
TUELLER: Tueller doesn’t notice this. He’s way inside his own head.
MILLICENT: Millie looks up, flabbergasted.
RYO: “Explains why I’d never heard of Noma.” He tilts his head at her. “How exactly does that work?”
MILLICENT: “Run that by me again, please.”
STORY: “I had this wiring in my head. Something they did to all the kids they recruited for the program. Alejo had it too.”
STORY: “I was in deep cover. Made my move one night, and Tormod saw it coming. I got in a few blows, but he knocked me out.”
STORY: “When I came to, I was in Siobhan’s lab with wires in my head and… there was more of me. It was both of us.”
STORY: “I was this new me.”
MILLICENT: “Of course! You have enough hardware in your. Oh no.”
MILLICENT: “I’d like to scan your brain waves, when we have time. Or immediately.”
STORY: She raises a hand, and smiles for the first time. “I’m fine, Millie. Stabilized.”
TUELLER: “Wait, huh?” Tueller starts paying attention.
MILLICENT: “I just want to make sure you’re stable and not, you know, frying your own brain.”
STORY: “I’m Calixta, and Noma, and we’re both me. And we’re fine.”
MILLICENT: “Still.”
STORY: “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. We had to get out.”
TUELLER: “Oh.”
RYO: “Sounds cozy.”
STORY: “It’s interesting.”
TUELLER: “I wish you hadn’t smashed that bottle.”
STORY: “There’s another next to the sanibox.”
MILLICENT: “You wouldn’t be able to offer any. Proof, would you? The only thing I know about you is that you lie about who you are for a living.”
STORY: Calixta smiles. “We met on Triton, when you made a food analogy and I asked you to clarify.”
MILLICENT: Millie sits down, hard.
TUELLER: Tueller ponderously stands up and walks, leaning heavily on the cane, over to the sanibox. He grabs the bottle there, uses his teeth to pull out the cork, spits that out to the side and takes a long pull on it.
TUELLER: “Synthmorph doesn’t have any contraindications with this stuff, right? Right.”
MILLICENT: She absently shakes her head. “Just leave some for the rest of us.”
STORY: “The strangest part has been getting used to having a limited memory.”
STORY: “Things get hazy with time. I know this is normal, but it feels… so odd.”
STORY: “I’m sorry to have frightened you, Millie. And you, Tueller.”
TUELLER: “It’s so good to have you back, Noma,” Tueller lifts the bottle as he shuffles back to his seat.
STORY: “When Chandra first met me, he didn’t even know I was inside that visor. We startled each other.”
STORY: “And he made me an offer to work together, to explore my capabilities, and. Well,” she gestures, finding it hard to explain.
STORY: “It seemed like the safest choice. The best choice. And I was curious.”
STORY: “You found my other parts?”
TUELLER: “Cocked everything up, but yes.”
STORY: She nods. “It will be interesting to see them again.”
STORY: “I am sure this infrastructure,” she points to her head, “can’t take on the extra data permanently, but I might be able to temporarily interface with that code and see what we’ve got.”
MILLICENT: Millie stands, starts toward Calixta, then stops. “I. I’d like very much to hug you, old friend. But you are new to having a body and unused to physical affection and your new host body should get a vote too.” Deep breath. “Would you like a hug, dear?”
STORY: “I wish it were better circumstances, but… it’s nice to see you again, Millie.” She smiles at you and hugs you warmly.
STORY: She’s tall, and she really reminds you of Alejo.
MILLICENT: Millie sighs and collapses into her chests crying.
RYO: “Running the self-conscious risk of interrupting this reunion, Calixta, what was your deep cover op, before you merged with Noma?”
STORY: From over Millie’s shoulder, to Ryo: “Bodyguard, then romantic entanglement. I was there to keep an eye on him, make sure he wasn’t double crossing RDG.”
TUELLER: “I have missed you too, Noma. I will forego the hug, for now, as Calixta…doesn’t want that.”
STORY: “I’d prefer you didn’t refer to me as separate entities, Tueller.”
STORY: “I’m angry at you. All of me. There’s no battle inside my head.”
TUELLER: “Oh.”
TUELLER: Tueller hangs his head.
TUELLER: “I am too.”
STORY: “Good.”
TUELLER: Tueller shrugs helplessly.
STORY: She addresses Ryo again. “Chandra honored the deal, until he didn’t. He became obsessed with Peregrine’s crew, with luring Soto back to kill him. I had plans for when that happened, but,” she cocks her head, not finishing the sentence.
STORY: “So now we’re here.”
STORY: “And we’ve got this data.”
STORY: “I for one think it was a shit trade.”
STORY: “But we may as well see what he died for.”
STORY: “Millie, if you’d like, I can try to help you make some sense of that deck.”
MILLICENT: Millie nods, stands up straight. Hiccups. “I’d like that.”
MILLICENT: “Does anyone have a tissue? I cannot. Abide crying.” She takes the first one offered to her. “Thank you.”
RYO: Ryo hands her one.
STORY: Calixta turns back to her former coworker. “Ryo, just to confirm, you’re not going to move against any of us?”
STORY: “Not here for some slow-play revenge plot?”
STORY: “Or to get that deck for yourself?”
STORY: “Because I’d prefer to kill you now, if I have to.”
RYO: He smiles broadly at this. “I’d prefer you not. And no, in answer to your question, I am grateful for the out. Chandra was pushing me in directions that I no longer wanted to go. I would have rather kept some of his infrastructure, but I have no plans to move against any of you. I will, instead, help while I can.”
STORY: She nods, and continues nodding. “Everyone believe him?”
TUELLER: “Not the most rousing speech, if you ask me.”
MILLICENT: Millie finishes washing her face at the sink and pours herself a drink.
MILLICENT: “How?”
RYO: “I’m not known for my rousing speeches, Mr. Ya’Makasi. I am known for getting things done.”
STORY: — close up for Ryo
MILLICENT: Millie shakes her head. “How, Mr. Hanaka?”
MILLICENT: “We don’t have any quarterly P&Ls to review on this ship.”
MILLICENT: …
MILLICENT: “We have no management training programs, no five year goals, no shareholders to impress, no fat to trim, no downsizings to increase earnings.”
MILLICENT: “How will you earn your keep?”
TUELLER: “As my sis always said, ‘Trust, but verify,’ except she never bothered with the first.”
TUELLER: “All we have is each other and even then, with the best intentions, we can let the others down. And we don’t know your intentions.”
RYO: He looks at Millie flatly. “I understand I’m new here. But taking out your next phase of grief on me isn’t going to help you or anyone else.” He looks at Tueller. “Fair enough. My intentions are, for now, to let you use this ship, which, by my count, is mine.” He looks back at Mille. “So, letting you fly it seems like a fair way of earning my keep, yes?” He glances at Kahn. Then looks down and back up. “As I say, I’m not good with speeches. But I too owe a debt to Alejo. And Khan. And they, it seems, respect and love you. So, I am your ally. And you seem to be in short supply of those.”
TUELLER: Tueller growls, low and briefly.
MILLICENT: “We stole this ship, fair and square, Mr. Hanaka. And the last heist we pulled together, in your house, no less, ended with me putting myself in harm’s way to ensure your survival. So I’ll thank you not to speak to me as if I’m hysterical. I’ll ask again. How, exactly, can you help us?”
STORY: Kahn stands, grunting in pain as he does.
STORY: “Stop.”
STORY: He takes a long time to look Ryo in the eyes. “Why didn’t you leave with us?”
RYO: He looks down for a long time, ignoring Millie. Then he turns to face Kahn. “I loved you. I did. You know that. But I . . . had family that needed me to provide for them. I thought that I could rebuild something that would set them up, free me, and let me return to you. Eventually. I’m good at planning. But not as good as I hoped.” He looks back down. “I am sorry.”
RYO: “And, honestly, I wanted the power. The money.”
RYO: He shrugs.
STORY: Kahn nods quietly. “There it is.”
STORY: And turns to the others. “Ryo’s a piece of shit, but he’s not a liar.”
RYO: “You know who I am.” He smiles weakly.
STORY: “He’ll help if he can. He’s more useful than you think, Millie.”
STORY: “And this probably is his ship.”
MILLICENT: Millie nods. “Fine. I’ll take Kahn’s word on you.”
MILLICENT: Millie looks around the room.
TUELLER: Tueller has no fight left in him.
STORY: Calixta looks around the room.
STORY: “We’ve got no captain.”
TUELLER: “We’re going back to the Ark. Once we’re there, let’s decide if we even need a captain anymore. If we’re even doing this anymore.”
TUELLER: “Right now we’re an ambulance with an ion engine.”
MILLICENT: Millie nods. “The priority is examining the files and planning our next step. If we need a captain to execute it we’ll make a captain.”
STORY: “Fine. Come on, Millie, let me have a look at that deck.”
MILLICENT: Millie stands. “Let’s.”
RYO: “I may be of help analyzing any data that you extract.” He looks at Millie. “Notwithstanding your insults, as I told you back in the compound, you’re not the only genius here.”
TUELLER: “Sheeesh.” Tueller says just barely out loud
MILLICENT: “We’ll see, Mr. Hanaka. We’ll see.”
STORY: After the three of them depart and Astra clears out to go be quiet and useful somewhere else, Kahn sits quietly across the room from Tueller, sipping his coffee and watching him.
TUELLER: Tueller sips from the bottle a couple more times and lets it sit.
STORY: “He wouldn’t want you like this.”
TUELLER: “Well, he’s not here to tell me that, so there’s that.”
STORY: “Tueller, if you make yourself as useless as you were after Nandini no one’s coming to pull you out of the gutter.”
STORY: “I’m going home to my husband. I’m done with this. I don’t need to almost die again to learn that fucking lesson.”
TUELLER: “I know that. But let me be useless for this trip.”
TUELLER: “I’ve…”
TUELLER: “I can’t count. So few successes and so many failures for a bit. Morose and useless while recovering from having my sternum cracked open and my ventricle replaced is going to look pretty good by comparison.”
STORY: “You can be useless for the rest of your life if you want, I won’t stop you. But you’ll be dishonoring his memory. Live a life worth surviving him for.”
TUELLER: “You want some of this? I lost the cap.” Tueller tips the bottle.
STORY: “No, man. I really am done with all of this.”
STORY: “You should be too.”
STORY: He stands, slowly.
TUELLER: “Probably the right call.”
TUELLER: “You have any idea where Sweet went off to?”
STORY: “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
STORY: He leaves, walking gingerly and leaning heavily on the railings.
TUELLER: Tueller says “asshole” as he goes, but with a certain affection.
STORY: Elsewhere, the Indoor Kids peer over a console, wires crisscrossing to connect Nikau’s broken deck and Calixta to it.
STORY: Calixta types with her brain, Millie with the attached keyboard.
STORY: “He’s got a lot of junk in here. Like, a lot.“
STORY: “How do you know there’s anything worth recovering?”
MILLICENT: Millie nods. “He’s a hoarder. Anything that might prove useful later.”
MILLICENT: “I started to compile some of the data, here.” She types. “There, that’s the program I made to help me sort future-blackmail files from Actually Interesting ones.”
STORY: “Hunh. That’s interesting.”
STORY: “He’s got a subfolder here that he broke into pieces, like…” she turns her hand in the air. Gestures accompanying Noma’s style of speech are still so unusual to you. “Intentionally shredding a document but then including all the pieces to be assembled later.”
RYO: “Encryption by obfuscation.”
MILLICENT: “Huh, interesting. I thought he’d caved to the committee.”
STORY: Give me an Assessment + Interface
MILLICENT: /roll 2d6 + 2
STORY: josh rolled 9 + 2 = 11
STORY: You gain a Data Point on the deck
STORY: “Wait.”
STORY: “These kinds of files, they’re everywhere.”
STORY: “All through this drive, he’s done the same thing, ripped files into pieces and hid them elsewhere.”
STORY: “It’s a jigsaw puzzle.”
STORY: “But this piece…”
MILLICENT: “Nikau, you lunatic.”
STORY: One of her eyes twitches and a file fragment pops up onscreen.
STORY: It’s part of a blueprint.
STORY: It’s low resolution, since it’s only a small piece of data, but it looks like part of the plans for a jump relay.
STORY: “You see that?”
STORY: She points at the screen.
MILLICENT: “It’s a bathroom.”
STORY: “Jump relays aren’t crewed.”
STORY: “What’s a bathroom doing inside one?”
MILLICENT: “It’s kind of a nice bathroom.”
MILLICENT: “What’s living on the jump relays?”
—
STORY: Alejo, you’re sitting at a bare metal table, wearing a drab tan jumpsuit. Your head hurts, your ears are buzzing a little, but it feels like it’s already getting better. The room is brightly lit, antiseptic even. It smells clean. You try to figure out what you can from your surroundings – the typical engine hum of a ship seems to be absent, so maybe a station, or a planetary base? Everything in here is scaled for a human, temperature and oxygen levels seem good.
STORY: You have no idea how you got here. The last think you remember is leaving the Ark to go after Chandra.
STORY: There’s a buzz as a lock opens and someone enters the room. Someone familiar.
STORY: Tux.
STORY: He sits down opposite you.
ALEJO: Alejo squints up his eyes at him. “Hi,” he finally says, though the word comes out raspy.
STORY: Tux looks anxious. “This is gonna be weird, but act normal, okay?”
STORY: “We don’t know each other. Act like you follow rules. Got me?”
ALEJO: He blinks at the light in the room and nods once. “Sure thing.”
STORY: He reaches out a hand to take yours.
ALEJO: Alejo looks at it for a moment. Then he reaches out and takes it.
ALEJO: “How?” he mouths this soundlessly.
STORY: He puts a hand on top of yours as he stands. “Good to see you, man. Stay alive.”
STORY: And with that, he departs.
ALEJO: “That what this is?” Alejo mutters to himself and assesses the room.
STORY: Jai!
JAI: Yes.
STORY: You’re round two of this interview, tasked with evaluating the new recruit’s general health and amenability to life in Purgatory. He’ll need to be able to deal with living permanently in relatively cramped quarters (the full compound area’s no bigger than your average shopping mall), work diligently with moderate physical activity, and adapt to a fully vegetarian diet.
STORY: Please evaluate the subject!
JAI: “Okay, buddy, what’s your name? Let’s start there.”
ALEJO: “Hiya. Soto. And you are?” Alejo smiles brightly.
JAI: “No, your real name, please.”
JAI: Jai gives a quick up and down look that makes you feel like you’ve been read like a book.
ALEJO: “Well, that’s a complicated question. But if you know that Alejo Soto isn’t my real name, then you already know that. And you know that I don’t know my real name.”
JAI: “Oh, we don’t want to get to existential down here, such as it is, so Alejo it’ll have to be.”
JAI: “How long, on average, do you feel you remain friends with people? And are the falling outs your fault, or theirs?”
ALEJO: “This is one hell of an interview.” He tilts his head at this. “Probably a bad choice of words?” He shakes his head. “Anyway, I try to remain friends with people for a long time. If there’s a falling out, it’s probably my fault. Usually.”
JAI: “Give me an instance in your life ha ha ha where you were confronted with a problem you couldn’t solve, and how you dealt with it. Feel free to be brief.”
JAI: Jai gives you a shit-eating grin after that.
ALEJO: “I couldn’t save Kahn and stop mercs who were about to put a quick end to my friends and our mission. So I left him behind. That kills me.”
JAI: “So your solution to problems you can’t solve is to leave them behind you?”
ALEJO: “There wasn’t a solution. At least that I could see in the moment. So I made one bad choice instead of another worse one.”
JAI: “Fair enough.” Abruptly, “How much experience do you have cleaning toilets?”
ALEJO: Alejo raises his eyebrows at this. “Ahh. None?” He smiles.
ALEJO: “I mean, I guess, my own personal toilet.”
JAI: “How often did you clean your own personal toilet, on average, on times when you were living alone? And how often when you were living with a person of the appropriate gender or genders?”
ALEJO: He tilts his head. “Who’s a person of the appropriate gender or genders?”
JAI: “Whatever gender or genders is appropriate for you in a significant other at that time of your life, I mean.”
ALEJO: “Right. Okay. Uhh. Twice a week? Maybe?”
JAI: “Okay. And why do you feel the need to lie to me about this now?”
ALEJO: “Friend, I am not sure that I’ve been more honest with someone I’ve never met before.”
JAI: “To be clear, I am not asking how often you flush.”
JAI: “In case that was ambiguous.”
ALEJO: Alejo shrugs. “It wasn’t.”
ALEJO: “I mean, I’m not saying I did a great job of cleaning each time.” He shrugs again.
JAI: “Okay, well that about wraps it up for me.”
JAI: “Thanks, you’ve been something.”
ALEJO: He smiles again. “You, ahh, too.”
STORY: As soon as the door closes after Jai departs, Tux hurries into the room and looks back at the door, moving quickly and hissing to you. “Soto, get this job, don’t act like a twat. I need you alive here, fucking act like someone who wants to be a janitor, will you?” He rushes back to the door, trying to slip out before he’s seen. “Get the job.“
ALEJO: “Janitor?” Alejo scrunches up his face and mutters to himself.
STORY: Ann!
STORY: You’re the third part of the interview team for this candidate, and your evaluation should cover the candidate’s ability to cope with long periods of boredom and how well he’ll adjust to living permanently on Purgatory.
ALEJO: “What the hell is going on?”
STORY: Psychologically, how likely is he to adjust, will he be a productive part of the team or will it be like what happened with Jerry
ANN: Ann enters and sits down in front of the subject. She smiles, perfuctorily and consults her notes.
ALEJO: Alejo smiles back, warmly. “Hello.”
ANN: “Good day. Have you ever spent long periods of time confined to one given space without meaningful enterprise to pass the day? If so, please specify the time periods.”
ALEJO: “Oh yes. I’ve spent a lot of time on small transports. Months and months between stops. I once,” he laughs a little, “this is crazy I know, but I once spent three months stowed away in a 5×8 meter space. Not saying it was fun, but I made it.”
ANN: “How did you,” she looks up, “make it?”
ALEJO: He nods. “Focus. Training. And I did have a book, which I read like twenty-some times.”
ANN: “Oh? What was the book?”
ALEJO: “Great Gatsby. Which I now hate. Terribly.” He smiles.
ANN: Ann nods. “You mentioned training. Elaborate.”
ALEJO: “Well, as I’m sure you know, I was trained as an operative. That included a lot of mediative training. It’s very important to control fear and other emotions, to remain centered under extreme circumstances. That sort of thing.”
ALEJO: “Oh! And lots of yoga!”
ANN: “Of course. And in your long space journeys, how did you maintain morale in tight quarters?”
ALEJO: “Ohh, great question! It’s hard, as I’m sure you know. Or it can be. I think the critical part is listening. I grew up basically in tight quarters. I mean, there’s no one right way to get along and keep up morale. You really have to listen and learn about the individuals who you’re with.”
ANN: Hey eyes narrow, “Give me an example, please.”
ALEJO: “Sure. So, one of my crew — kind of a brother to me — was a big fellow. He was pretty tough. Blunt. He didn’t express his feelings very well. So, with him, I would spar a lot. I’d get him focused on the fight and then, slowly, ask questions, get him talking. He’d find his way through whatever he needed to talk about by working through his feelings with his fists and feet.”
STORY: Ann your time’s up, you can ask one more but you need to get back to the director on your thoughts.
ANN: “And you,? How did you keep your own head up when you’d bunked with the same annoying assholes for months on end? When the smell of their farts met your nose first thing every morning and your hands would move to throttle them without asking your hippocampus first? How did you maintain your own morale?”
ANN: She leans across the table, intense.
ALEJO: He smiles. “Well, again, I grew up in Nath. Titan. It was always cramped quarters there. So, you know, you get used to it. You find ways of taking personal space for yourself. For me, it was always hiding away a little treat — a snack — for later. Do that to this day. Well, not this particular day, but you get my meaning. I would hide something away and then treat myself in some quiet moment. But the truth is that I like being close to people. Assholes are everywhere. But even assholes can be fun.”
ANN: She nods. “Thank you for your time.” And exits.
ALEJO: His eyes widen and he shakes his head. “This is so fucking weird.” He mouths this quietly.
STORY: Ann heads back into the hallway to stand with Tux and Jai. The Director approaches the three of you. “So? Everyone’s votes?”
STORY: Tux is first to answer, and nods enthusiastically. “Yes. Good. He’ll do fine.”
JAI: “The man likes to clean toilets. Sure, why not?”
ANN: “Quick to please in a new and difficult situation. He’ll do fine, but will require some watching.”
STORY: The Director nods. “Thank you. You can return to your duties.”
STORY: Alejo, a slight, thin man enters the room, smiling vaguely.
STORY: “Mr. Soto, I believe?”
ALEJO: “Yes, that’s me. Hi.” Alejo rises and offers a hand.
STORY: He takes it. “I’m the Director. This is likely the last time we’ll speak, but I like to welcome everyone personally to the team. We’d like to offer you a position on our janitorial staff.”
ALEJO: Alejo beams. “Outstanding news! That’s precisely what I was hoping to hear. Thank you.”
STORY: “Please, this way,” he directs you, and moments later you’re handed a mop and a bucket full of smaller sponges and brushes and sent through a door.
STORY: You kneel down and begin scrubbing the toilet in a, well, a kind of nice bathroom.