Sunday, March 17th, 20XX
Kevin Choi woke up at 5AM. The girls in the other room wouldn't be up until a little while later. He knew Kayla had a difficult night; had wanted time alone, and so spent a while in the ICC starting out its big plastiglass windows. She was in E&R most of the day yesterday—the Biology department—so she'd probably tested her theory about P314's ecology. There'd be time to talk about that today, but not now. Kevin had work to do.
First, a quick shower. Lukewarm, edging on cold. He started with a harsh scrubbing soap, then the smoother one. Nothing fancy. How he looked mattered, but there wasn't going to be any time for an Everything Shower for the next thirty-two days. Well, maybe one. If they—between Kayla's group and Phillips'—could reach eighty by… hmm. Day twenty? Depended on what Xenobiology found… but if they could hit that target, maybe they'd have some breathing room. Today, prospects. He dressed and went to breakfast.
The mess was nearly empty, of course. Breakfast did start at 5, but that didn't mean most people would be up that early on a Sunday. He surveyed the sparse crowd. And… there was on odd sight. Kayla's old acquaintance, the young Ensign Jacques, sat eating alone. He didn't look so especially tired—military type. Morning person—the young man was more… pensive. Maybe even annoyed. Again Kev wondered: what's his grievance? Mustbe some sister shit. Kayla had insisted he wasn't particularly misogynistic, but… there were many ways that attitude could manifest. Be channeled, twisted into something the man in question truly considered Justified, or even Good. And Kayla Farris always seemed to see the best in people. In that way, she's lucky to have someone like me along, he thought. And Livvy, for that matter.
He made his way for the Ensign's table, listening to the conversations of nearby C&E workers as he passed. Should I make a remark about the cheerleader costume?He doesn't know I'm gay… least I don't think he does… what's the right note to hit? He settled on something neutral, something disarmingly pleasant: "Hey. You're Jacques Delende, right? How's it going?"
"Oh," said Jacques. "Hi."
He's cagey. Is this about the crossdressing, or did something happen yesterday? Well, Kev knew this guy wasn't a fan of the poetry. He set his tray down and scoffed. "You're comin' to the Poetry Club tonight, right?" he asked in a low voice. "I'm just glad they haven't picked me yet. This whole thing was Kayla's idea, and it's not really my strong suit." He took a bite of scrambled eggs.
Jacques seemed to come out of a trance. "Oh… yeah, sure. Yeah, guess I'll need a break after today, hah."
"Oh, right!" Kevin nodded. "You're doing your Commander's work today, some kinda bet? Cori was telling me about it last night. She still feels bad about goading you into it, if that's any consolation." He saw Jacques bristle. Insecure, that checks out. But not because Cori's a woman, not consciously anyway; because he got hurt. Or… lost? Ego hurt?
The young Ensign rolled his eyes. "She's just trying to be nice to a 'newbie'. Well, not that nice…" He snapped a strap of his hot pink brassiere.
"Mmm," Kevin hummed agreeably through a mouthful of bagel. This seemed like a natural rest point; Jacques, it seemed, wasn't always one to maintain a conversation, and Kevin saw no reason to force one. They ate together for a few minutes in silence before he spoke again; he drank a gulp of apple juice and said: "Been glad to meet a few nice people in there anyway. The Club, I mean. You, Jensen, that guy Fred Wilson…" Jacques looked down and away for a short moment. What, he doesn't like someone? Or… Kayla said he's suspicious of us. He's smart; don't forget that he's perceptive.
The curly-haired man said: "…yeah. Fred seems cool."
Does he like Livvy? How do I ask without being too direct… "I can't lie Jacques. Two months here—I'm single—I'm looking to meet someone, y'know what I mean? I mean, Kayla Livvy and I are just friends…"
Jacques raised an eyebrow. "Jensen, she wouldn't…"
"Oh. Oh right, Kayla told me, hah! No, of course not." Kevin chuckled. "Kinda strange to have a gay person in charge of so much, right? I mean, rare, it's not bad…"
Jacques eyed him quickly, then looked down. "I… sure. Rare."
Now the test. "Would be really strange if it was a gay guy though, right? I mean, some people might get uncomfortable…"
Jacques' eyes darted around the room. "Wha—heh, yeah you'd think so. But there's a lotta gay guys in N&S these days, even with all the stupid shit."
"Really?" Kevin squinted and looked away for a moment. "Even with 'don't ask don't tell'? Like, they're Out?"
Jacques bobbed his head, lip curled up. "Yeah, sure… what, you didn't know Lt. Carson was?"
"Ope, wow, no! I guess he keeps it pretty quiet, huh?" And you just outed him… are you guys really that close?
"Eh, he just doesn't make a big deal about it." Jacques finished the bottom-clinging drops of a cup of now steamless coffee. "It's just normal, right? Who cares as long as he does his job, and is, like, a decent guy?"
"Sure," Kevin said, smiling. "Glad to hear you feel that way. Raif then. Thanks." He stood.
Jacques furrowed his brow and stared at Kevin cockeyed for a few seconds. "Wait… aww, why does everyone want me to be their matchmaker!?" He said this in a somewhat good-humored way, like he was only playing at anger. "You better not fuck this up, Kevin. And just so you know…" He raised a finger. "No. Friends are a way better use of my time."
"Ooh!" said Kevin. He tried to keep that straight-guy husky bass to his voice. "There's gotta be someone on this rock for you, Delende. In N&S, maybe?"
Jacques pouted a little; he probably didn't think Kev noticed. "Nah. You want my help fuckin'… navigating this shit, fine. Y'wanna return the favor, don't mention it."
Kevin nodded agreeably, but he noticed a change in the man's stance, his gaze, his overall attitude. He was 'on guard'. Doesn't necessarily mean he's straight, but… homophobic. At least a little bit. But men are trained to be; can't blame him. He just has to learn. "Alright, see you tonight Ensign! Or should I say Commander Delende?" He waved goodbye and set his tray down on a counter by the dishwashing station. Jacques waved back.
Hah! Kevin tried to contain his glee. What's this guy, thirteen years old? He likes her A LOT.
***
The Companionship Collaboration Environment was abuzz. Aliens, real aliens, and one of the rover teams brought back a live specimen! This is just why we brought Ms. Alessia along, thought Kayleigh Johannessen.
Shaea Alessia was a hot and trendy wildlife activist, brand affiliate and fitness influencer. Truly famous; she had no less than three hundred million followers across her socials. Of course, they didn't bother asking her to wear her (custom made and tailored) Companionship uniform, not now, safe on Kepharon's surface. They'd agreed it best the dazzling young woman wore something like 'lounge wear': sneakers, sports bra and leggings—all sponsored by fabulous, Sustainable Partner Brands. After hours of work by Marketing Associates, Shaea's hair and makeup were immaculate in their 'just rolling out of bed' casual Work Look, her wardrobe new perfection, her skin as new-made smooth. It was enough to make any woman jealous. Oh, that's a perfect quip for the interview! Kayleigh jotted on her holotab.
Back on Earth, a social media starlet's wardrobe would be the hardest part, but Companionship had an even more daunting task: wardrobe for the wonderful Kepharine creature. Many ideas had been floated by Marketing: a dog collar and purple grass, a little costume to look like a human boy. The final plan was a stroke of genius: a little custom-tailored Pilot's outfit! The tagline: They can work with us! Navigation and Steering had plenty of extras. The helmet was the hard part, but Construction and Extraction had fabrication machinery. A zoologist from Engineering and Research had discovered that the aliens were pacified by putting one of the alien leaves in its mouth, so with radiation suits on they'd taken measurements. And, of course, the suit and helmet would have to be sort of the opposite of a person's gear, since the air outside was so much thinner. With Safety in mind, Kayleigh had made sure they made the plastiglass visor nice and thick, and that the helmet locked tight—childproof—to the neck ring. Those teeth… the little guys could be so mischievous!
The best news was their gooey little bodies: they could take the shape of about any container. Like living clay! So the suit was a little bit rigid, and looked like a human toddler's body. "But 39% cuter!" Penny from Marketing had said with a squee. "Squishy little teddy bear!" And they'd brought two members of Security into a nearby room, just in case. No guns, of course, that would be too much! But they were there; all the E&R Associates had insisted that wild animals could be unpredictable. Everything was ready in the News Room: they had their Little Astronaut and their star; it was time to get started. Cameron Glassman was their director, as always. He has such an eye for these things, Cameron. The exciting and inviting OCM visual style!
Shaea sat, as did Jonathan Bray from Marketing (in a regular old suit and tie), and a pair of Counselors set the Kepharine Astronaut down, and Kayleigh herself gave the thumbs-up, and Cameron said: "Action!" OCM went Live for all the world(s) to see.
Shaea waved. "Hey everyone back home! Ohmygod, I'm here on Kepharon! It's so exciting to live in SPACE with all these wonderful people. Next week I'm going to do a real space-walk, and don't forget: my concert here on the twenty-ninth is going live for all of you, my wonderful fans, right here on OCM's official account! The First Ever Concert On An Alien Planet!"
Jonathan smiled. "That's absolutely right, Shaea. We're so excited to see what surprises you have planned for us this month. But our own Researchers here at OCM have a surprise for you!" He turned to the front camera, Camera 2, which was zoomed in to box only his head. "That's right folks, the rumors are all true! We've found real, live, extraterrestrial organisms right here on Kepharon! Without further ado, here is: a Kepharine!"
Stage lights shone down on the Little Astronaut, its bright green skin and deep black eyes. The thing squinted and looked around the room.
"OhmyGOD!" said Shaea, "can I pet him?" She clapped and bounced in her seat.
"Well he's nice and safe and comfortable in his Navigation and Steering Astronaut's Uniform™, but you can go ahead and pick him up. Like cradling a baby; our Researchers tell us they grow to no more than thirty pounds!"
Shaea walked over to the Kepharine Pilot's chair, hoisted it up in front of herself and held it out facing the camera. "It's like holding a baby! Look at him, so cute." She rocked the creature side to side, making it dance to an imaginary rhythm. "What's his name?"
"Well Ms. Alessia, that's an excellent question! He's got a tag in there, but that's just a bunch of numbers for the brilliant minds back in Engineering and Research. We were thinking… what if you named this little fella?"
"Oh." She sat with the creature on her lap. Its eyes darted around the room.
Kayleigh nudged one of the E&R Associates next to her, and whispered calmly: "What's it doing?"
Shaea rested her chin on top of the Kepharine's blue helmet. "Greenie," she said. "Lieutenant Greenie, our new mascot here on the OCS Destiny!" She smiled at Camera 2.
The E&R Associate next to Kayleigh pinched his chin. "This is a new sort of behavior," he whispered. "We'll have to make a note, maybe the lights—"
The Kepharine began to rock itself side-to-side in Shaea's hands. "Oh!" she cried. "He's so excited to be here. Look at him smiling!"
She turned the creature back towards the camera, and just then it—it must have flipped. Its head went down into its little rigid space suit, and then its fluid limbs were visible through its transparent visor. Everyone but Shaea was startled; she noticed, and spun the thing back around. She giggled. "Look, he's playing!" The creature's suit then rocked away from her, and…
There was a crash, and a woman's scream. The creature's tentacles burst out of its visor, and the whole thing sprung out, head and all. It first grabbed Shaea's face; she jumped up and screamed some more. There was an immediate burst of scrambling chaos.
Cameron shouted "CUT!" as quickly as could be expected, and the cameras stopped rolling.
The two Security Associates came charging in, but not before the naked Kepharine leapt off Shaea's face and scrambled away. Most people were fleeing and clogging up the doors—Kayleigh slipped out. She caught her breath. What do I do? 1. Make sure Ms. Alessia is alright. 2. Make sure the alien gets locked up again, somewhere safe. 3. Damage control.
She dodged panicking Marketing Associates and pushed her way back inside the Newsroom. Shaea was sitting on her shins, sobbing. Her face had wrinkly little marks (as one might receive from sleeping on a rumpled pillow) and her hair was a mess, but she didn't seem to be bleeding. One member of Security was fighting to keep the alien contained. It bit him hard; the other stood crouched, hands out, ready to grab the thing if it pulled free. The Kepharine's fluidic limbs convulsed and stretched like a pulsing star or… some kind of hypnotizing screen-saver…
Kayleigh stepped back and pressed buttons on her OCM Holoprojector Digital Wristband. She sent for more security, and a container for the creature. They'd already made one, with extra copies on the way. She asked for more to be made, and stronger. The plastiglass of this one's costume hood had seemed pretty thick. They were dangerous… E&R should've been more careful. Where's that zoologist?
She appointed another member of Companionship Leadership to ensure the creature was taken care of, and their startled Celebrity Spokeswoman. The she went into her own office to coordinate OCM's response. The Admiral will need to be notified, she thought, and clenched her teeth, unconsciously shuddering. This was supposed to be his day off!
***
In the morning, Kayla stopped by the Biology Department. Another Ecologist was there: Doctor Verne Wolstein, in discussion with a whole gaggle of geneticists. Along with the 'base pair' of Yume and Hikaru Rokuyama, there was the esteemed Dr. Rathford from Yale, Gerry Wysocki, and a technician whose name she didn't yet know, who was good with the sequencing programs. She didn't have much to contribute today; she just wanted to see how far along they all were, and if any of their findings contradicted her conclusion. That's science: an endless effort to falsify. In some sense, she wanted to be wrong.
She made all the necessary introductions (the gentech's name was Justin Frakes, and he didn't seem so promising) and prodded for answers, but the sequencing was still in progress. Yume reminded Kayla that they'd have access to the live specimen this afternoon; all four zoologists (Phillips included) would be there trying to learn more about Kepharine behavior and biomechanics. That would be worth attending. Kayla resolved to make herself at least seem busy. She wouldn't have a chance to talk to Phillips today, not really. We must seem cold to each other, in that 'acquaintances who don't know each other and don't care to try and fix that' sort of way. She spoke to Wolstein: he said he was in for her rover trip tomorrow. Of course, she thought. He loves to get his hands dirty. Maybe after some field work together, she'd mention poetry club to him.
At 12:24P.M. she went to the Dining Hall, so she arrived right at 12:30. Farrah was there looking at the offerings and hopped into the buffet line; Kayla stepped in line behind. The key here is not to seem like you're not looking, she thought. Just another random stranger. She got her tray and began to bob her head, as though a song was stuck inside. She tapped a rhythm onto the plastic tray with her fingernails: one quick tap and four slow ones with her pointer finger, then the same with the middle. 'Eleven' in Morse. At the end of the line, Farrah Hamadani walked off towards a group of her fellow computer techs. Kayla looked around: found a table with Fred and Kevin, and a pair of N&S friends.
She sat with them. Kevin flicked his eyes her way. One of the pilots spoke first, Tammy Ellison: "Hey Dr. Farris. What've you been up to today?"
Kayla smiled. "No rest for the wicked," she said. "Bio department's all business, even on Sundays. We're gene sequencing the Kepharines, and all the plants we've found."
Lt. Manny Pérez swallowed a mouthful of salad. "Ahem, it's amazing what you've all been able to accomplish, Doctor. Explorers on the sea of knowledge…" He gulped down some water.
She rolled her eyes. "Thanks man. We've hardly figured out shit yet. Sequencing takes forever. Hopefully we learn more in the field tomorrow, y'know, the old fashioned way. Actually Fred, I've been meaning to ask: you in for another day out?"
"Sure," said Fred. "Wonder who our pilot's gonna be?"
"Oh, probably Ensign Delende," said Manny. He marked some shared glances between the other two, and said: "What?"
Fred smirked. "Nothin'."
"Oh, you can have whoever you want, Doctor," Manny added nervously. "I just thought… since you seem to know Delende, from back on Earth…"
"Thanks, Lieutenant," said Kayla, "we do want Jacques along. His little spill the other day helped us find all these organics in the first place."
"Really? Oh, the leaves, yes of course!" Pérez set his cup down. "It's odd, isn't it? Mr. Wilson told me the Farrisa vines you found were also growing from those thrascite crystals—there alone. I don't mean to impose upon a field where you're an expert, and I entirely untrained, but do you suppose there's some causal relation there?"
Kayla felt Kevin's eyes on her again. "Who knows," she said. "I'm more curious about what else lives here. I mean, one kind of 'animal' and couple species of plants is hardly biodiversity. That level of complexity, the Kepharines… there's gotta be other things living here. Microscopic things, I bet. Keep your suits on outside, people, and don't forget to decontaminate."
"Huh," said Tammy. "Hope there's not anything bigger than Kepharines. Wouldn't wanna get gobbled up by some giant alien octopus."
"Our sensors would pick such a creature up, even underground," said the Lieutenant. "Doctor, would you be taking specimens for dissection in your lab? I mean, the Kepharines as well?"
"Only dead ones," she replied. "Or bones… gotta be some kinda remains out there somewhere. I wouldn't wanna kill any."
"Of course," said Pérez, he smiled. "Wouldn't want to violate 'The Prime Directive'."
"I…" Kayla averted her eyes. "Course not. We're researchers, after all. What reason could we have to be so heartless?"
Kevin stood and picked up his tray, it covered in empty plates and bits of garbage. "Alright guys, we all got shit to do. Me, it's a nap and then the gym. See you there, Tammy?"
Tammy nodded up at him. "You betcha. And we're gonna actually work out today, not just look at cute guys, alright?"
Kevin sighed pleasantly. "Fine. Chest day, right? Think I'll just be looking up. Okay, see ya tonight everyone." He shared a wave with everyone else, then left. Kayla exhaled heavily.
The N&S people whispered to each other. Fred tapped Kayla on the shoulder, said: "Hey Doc, you good?"
"Yeah," she said. She continued to eat.
Fred continued to stare at her for a few seconds. "Awright," he said. "See you tonight, Kayla." He reached out with one hand, and seemed to hesitate, before patting her on the arm and getting up to leave himself.
***
"What, still doing your job, Cori?" asked Captain Carter Dacuma.
They sat in his office, at the western edge of the complex's third floor; the OCS Destiny in view from its wide window. Commander Jensen shrugged. "Unfortunately. Nothing to fly today."
"I suppose some things are just that important," said Dacuma, "and can't be pawned off on some unlucky Ensign. So what then, you gonna take one of the S-Hs for the extra mining rovers, or stick to escorting the shuttles in your Marlin?"
Cori pointed emphatically. "Bradley's outta line. But… yeah. 'Spose Manny can escort the asteroid boys, ugh. That fat old cigar-chomper owes me one."
Dacuma leaned back in his chair. "This is why I need you here, Jensen, even with your stupid jokes. You know how everything's gotta be." He grinned. "So what've you been up to this weekend, with your schedule clear? Already found a new bunk to sleep in Friday night?"
Cori scrunched her eyes and grinned right back. "None'a your damn business, Carter. Not everyone's got a little wallet photo of their Sweetheart Back Home."
"As long as she's not some loser," said Dacuma. "After you had us meet that one pothead, at Vinchenzo's of all places, Allie had to take two extra showers to get the stink out." He chortled.
"Hey, Wystie was nice," said Cori. "And we're all serious professionals here. Nothing to worry about."
Dacuma snorted. "Serious, suuure. Just until you get through with 'em…"
"Alright, Carter," said Jensen, and she stood. "That's enough'a your 'friendly advice'…"
Carter Dacuma tapped one temple. "Hah, eyes up, Commander. It's [20XX]… gold-diggers don't discriminate."
Cori brushed him off with an ironic flap of her hand as she left.
Patronizing cunt, she thought as she tromped down the hallway. But he likes me, and that's job security. Two more months, a few dinners with his Karen of a wife, then you're in the clear. Make a few decent investments and retire, buy that farm you've always dreamed of. Or… if there's another mission; that's connections, a good track record and rep. Gotta play the game, Cori. Gotta play the fuckin' game…
***
Jacques finished the rest of the Commander's weekend work. 11:13; he wasn't hungry yet. Actually, he wasn't hungry at all, he was… preoccupied, and still annoyed. Nothing was sitting right with him; his doubts towards Livvy and Kay had only spiraled since last night. They'll be at the goddamn Poetry meeting tonight, he thought, but so will everyone else. Maybe he could catch Livvy alone in her quarters, or on her way to lunch. He closed out the Commander's computer and left the ICH.
Gotta get to the bottom of this. Of Livvy, Kay… everything.
***
"We've gotta do more introduction shit, when we split off into the breakout rooms," said Kayla Farris. She stood beside her quarters' kitchen counter in late morning with her suite-mates.
"Alright, more icebreakers," said Kevin. "But what about Bio, and the timeline? What'd you tell Farrah?"
Kayla sat and held her head in two fingers. "I was right; Thrascephemium's part of the cycle," she said. "Eleven days; that's my estimate. Erring on the side of caution… after we get some concrete data, might be a lot longer than that, but…"
"Eleven days!?" cried Livvy. "You mean until they're totally…"
Kayla nodded.
"Well—" Livvy paced about the room. "Then we don't have eleven days, we have like, three! Everything's starting tomorrow, and those fuckers—"
"Livvy!" Kevin snapped. "We talked about this. We need time to make sure our plan works. To build up a real coalition, take command and get everyone out of here with minimal friction."
Livvy balled fists. "And what, it's all worth a couple sacrifices, huh? You just saw that fucking puff piece they tried to do… nobody in charge here gives two shits about burning it all down!"
"Eleven days," said Kayla. "The sooner the better, but we need eighty, and we haven't even got half that. We just have to push further." She met the eyes of her two friends; they were solemn.
"The other three aren't gonna have much time to—" Livvy paused and checked her physical computer tablet. "Hold on… someone's coming!" The other two crowded around her. "Look… it's Jacques. Jacques Delende!"
"You sure he's comin' here?" asked Kayla. "He's just heading…"
"Look at his face," said Livvy. "He's so… ice-cold all the time. Ooh!" She took out a paper notebook and scribbled some words. "That's good."
"He probably shouldn't see all of us here," said Kevin, "and he probably isn't here for me. See ya guys. Eleven." He retrieved his holotab and hurried out the door, slowing to a sauntering walk once he reached the hallway.
Livvy stood quickly, breaths hastening out. "You think he's here for you? He definitely thinks you're sus, Kayla."
Kayla scratched her arm softly. "Hmm, probably." She stood. "You wanna take a nap, Livvy?"
"Sure, I—" She slapped the middle of her torso. "No, wait! He might be here to read his poem to me. Y'know… rizz me up—he's just playing it cool. Maybe he's, like, one of those guys who's shy in public, wants to be one-on-one."
Kayla rolled her eyes. "Alright, I'll take a nap. You sure?"
Livvy craned over her tablet to examine the striding man. "Urgh, he's just so blank all the time. Whaddayou think?" She held the screen up for Kayla. "Angry, excited, shy?"
Kayla smiled. "Well, he doesn't like me, that's for sure. If he wants me you can come 'wake me up,' but if he's here for you, I'd only hurt your chances being out here." She walked over to their bedroom, said: "good luck girl," went inside, and shut the door.
Livvy stared at the tablet again. Jacques was maybe forty seconds away from their door. Shit… shit shit! She ran into the bathroom, to the mirror.
***
Maybe Bradley was wrong, thought Jacques. He was kinda 'cooked'. Wayne Bradley had dropped several slurs during their brief conversation, and Jacques had some idea what to make of that phrase, 'one of the good ones'. Still the man hadn't been particularly unfriendly to anyone. Maybe dumb and crass, but… he'd said nice things about Livvy, and Pérez, and the Commander also. He isn't so bad, not deep down, he's just… misled, is all.
Near the door to Livvy's suite, he stopped to collect his thoughts. Gotta ask to confirm. Wouldn't be fair to Livvy to assume. What's the right way to… maybe there's some hint I can drop? He didn't want to be mean about this, even if it was true. But, he thought, she lied to me. And she's gotta be involved in Kay's bullshit… they're all friends, all three of them live together! He'd try to be nice, but the facts had to come out.
He pressed a button by the door door, which rang a digital doorbell chime. The door slid open.
"Oh, Jacques Delende!" It was Livvy McNally, her pink-streaked hair combed back over one ear, her upper eyelids painted with makeup of a darker pink, a 'naturalistic' hue closer to her skin tone. "Come on in."
"Hey Livvy," he said, and followed, eyeing the room. There was a decent-sized kitchenette in here, and a living room with lots of sitting space. E&R, he thought, frowning.
There was a feminine sort of joy in Livvy's footsteps as she stepped around the side of the kitchen counter. "What's up? How've you been? Work going alright?"
"Yeah, I'm done for the day," he said. "I'm, uh, good. How's Kay?"
Livvy smiled and wiggled a thumb at one of the doors in the living room. "She's takin' a nap. You aren't the only one with busy weekends. C'mon, siddown, you want anything?"
He eyed Kay's door. "Nah, I'm good. Gonna get lunch soon…" Nervously, he took a seat opposite Livvy.
She sat too, elbows on the table, chest high (and pushed out, Jacques thought; he averted his eyes) and smiling brightly. "So what brings you to our humble abode?" she asked, and tapped the side of her suit. Her smile twisted into a smirk. "Still got your poem here."
He grunted. "Nah… I got something to ask you." He frowned and bit his lip.
"What?" She must've realized just how bubbly and excited she looked, for Livvy lowered her eyes, arched her back down and deepened her voice. "I've gotchu bro." She waved a hand nonchalantly between them. "About Kayla, right? Anything you wanna know… I'm like, her best friend, and stuff."
"No," he said, "umm, about you actually…"
Livvy blushed. Aw fuck, Jacques thought. She thinks I'm into her! He didn't want to be rude—seriously. But this wasn't the kind of thing a person could afford to dance around. He had to be blunt—gentle as he could be, but… out with it already! "Livvy… are you a trans?"
Livvy physically recoiled and went very red (almost purple) with shock. "Whah—" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Jacques… w-what the fuck are you talking about?"
He smacked his lips and turned away, eyes half-shut, and said out of one side of his mouth: "Aww, don't gimme that… look, Bradley from C&E told me, and I think—"
"Bradley!? What, he called me a fag or something, and your first instinct was to come and relay the message?" Livvy stood up, sending her chair skidding back, red with anger.
Jacques stood as well. "I know he's a fuckin' dickhead, but he's right! Why you gotta keep lyin' to me? I don't give a shit that you're a—"
"Jacques, I've known you for two fucking days! If… if that was true, you think I'd just tell you, some dumbass stranger, first thing out the gate?"
"It's different!" said Jacques. "I know you've got a crush on me, you were gonna fuckin'… why didn't you just tell everyone!? Coulda had yourself some real nice H.I.T. points…" 'H.I.T.' stood for 'Harmony, Inclusivity and Tolerance'.
"Shit's got pros and cons!" Livvy screeched. "Why am I telling you how bad coming out can be—you went to MIT! Have you never talked to a single trans person, or gay person, or anyone about this!?"
Jacques frowned.
"…and of course people would if it was that easy! Who wouldn't take the little leg up on the way in!?"
Jacques gestured frantically with his hands. "You like that shit? Those patronizing fucking NPCs don't care about you… about any of us! They just want tokens, show how 'virtuous' they are, all the rare one-ofs they've collected for their marketing pics!"
"Of course not!" Livvy slammed a palm on the counter. "Haven't you ever heard of a 'canary in the coal mine'? Least they feel like they gotta pretend to care! …What? You think I'm just too stupid, that I'd be happy—placated—'fuck you, got mine'!?"
Jacques shook his head, frowning. "Alright, get your bag then. Or don't, I don't give a fuck! This ain't just about the alphabet stuff, you and Kay are hiding way more than a fuckin' cock. Lookin' virtuous… all three'a you got that shit locked down! Gettin' these other idiots spun up in your little web'a lies—fuck it!"
Livvy pointed at the door, screamed: "OUT!" There was venom in her glare. Jacques met it with burning rage of his own, then snorted and left in a huff.
When he was gone, Livvy rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door. Kayla came out and tried to join her, but the door was locked. She could hear the sobbing.
Jacques stormed down the hall. GOD DAMMIT! he thought. Now I'm the fuckin' asshole, and she's the one who fuckin' lied! They all did! He heard footsteps and calmed his face. A C&E woman passed him by wordlessly. Kay brought her along… Kay's fucked all of this up. SHE'S the one bringin' tokens, so nobody looks twice when she starts fuckin' people over. And smilin', "ooh, I'm Makayla Farris, the vine Doctor, I'm such an L-G-B-T-Q-M-N-I-O-P+ aLlY and friend to everyone, ooh!" She don't give a shit. Fuckin' two-faced sellout. Even Livvy's probably just getting used. But nobody fucking listens, they're too excited to pat her on the back, First Black Female Astronaut, put her on a magazine cover, oh yes sweetheart you're so stunning and brave, so inspiring to all the little girls, all these corporate white bitches just love to bend over backwards for their Designated Black Friend.
He neared the mess hall and slowed. What am I gonna do? How am I gonna… nobody else gets it! Even Commander Jensen's too nice (and crushin' on'er) to see through her bullshit. He didn't want to go to the Poetry Club. Weather all the bullshit applause and participation trophies and 'feelings talk'. But I have to, someone's gotta, fuckin'—someone's gotta set shit straight! I'll speak and they'll fuckin' listen, and if they still can't see past their stupid pandering… fuck 'em!
He wouldn't think so—might not've even realized the emotion was affecting him—but on some level, Jacques was also jealous. That Livvy could lie to him; that she had a choice to take the 'H.I.T.' points, and everything else that came with being 'out,' or just stay 'in'. There are identities which cannot be hidden.
***
Members of other teams were allowed back aboard the Destiny, the closed bridge and thruster ends that remained—it hadn't even been used for transport trips yet. The ship sat aground, awake but running low, with only a few members of N&S visible onboard. Kevin knew there were others hidden away here, but only in case of danger to OCM people, assets or employees, which he wasn't bringing today. He climbed on and made for the bridge.
By luck, the bridge was relatively empty. There were only two people manning its consoles and sitting in pilot seats: some Ensign whom Kevin didn't recognize, and young Lieutenant Quinn Jackson, who was essentially Captain Dacuma's 'first mate' in here. The Ensign in the corner nodded slightly as Kevin Choi entered and walked up to the pilot's seat.
"Sorry… Ms. Jackson?" he said, once he was nearly behind her.
"Oh," said Quinn, and she swiveled. "Heya. What's up, E&R?"
He extended a hand to the young woman. "Kevin Choi, Astrophysics and MechEng. There's something I'd like to speak with about you, um, in private. If you aren't too busy."
Hesitantly, she shook the hand. "Mechanical, huh? Think this big hunk of junk's just fine today. What's the matter?"
"Oh, it's…" Kevin bit his lip. "I'm a friend of the Commander, and Lieutenant Pérez. I just, umm, I'm trying to meet people, y'know. Figure maybe I could help out if something did go wrong on here."
Quinn smiled. "Networking, hah. Alright…" She stood and turned to the Ensign nearby. "Travers! You good if I talk to Choi here for a minute? E&R stuff."
Ensign Travers nodded. "All good, Lieutenant! Slow today!"
Quinn pointed towards a door. "C'mon," she said, "Over here."
"I'm sorry the Captain's not here today" she said. They traveled down a short hallway. "Think he's got some meeting with the head C&E Foreman about getting mineral transport up for tomorrow."
"Oh, that's alright. He's, uhh… well I've already met him, actually. He seems, well, diligent. But I don't know… when it comes to 'networking,' I guess I'm a little more comfortable with people my own age."
"Hah," said Jackson. "Yeah, he's diligent alright."
They came to a standard door, and she led them both inside. "This is my office," she said, "and don't get the wrong impression. This is strictly business." She wore a very friendly grin.
"Oh no, I'm gay. Like, men only."
"…Oh…" Quinn scoffed. "Just gonna say it, wow. You're kinda weird, Choi."
He held his head. "Kinda stupid, maybe. I just… I'd rather be honest, y'know? What's the point of dancing around shit for days and weeks and years?"
Quinn Jackson stopped, for a long moment, in front of the fridge. Then she opened it, asking: "You want, like, water or anything?"
"No thanks."
She brought one glass of water to her desk, where both sat down. "Alright, so you really are networking, and not just making some awkward attempt to flirt. What then, gonna ask me how my job's going? Or like, the weather or something?"
"Hey," he said, "I… I really try to be, like, a people person. I've met lots of nice people here. But yeah, um, how is it being up on the bridge? Working with the Captain?"
"Eh, it's alright," she said. "Not much to do these days."
"And I always like to…" Kevin frowned. "Well, get other people's takes on people, y'know, a fresh perspective. You military types can be real 'stoic and silent,' tough nuts to crack. But I mean, the Commander's alright. So I figure I was just being unfair, or it's like, a language barrier almost…"
"Tshh," said Quinn. "I dunno if I'm all that 'stoic and silent'. Maybe just 'silent'…" She swirled the water in her glass.
"Guess we're all just trying to do our jobs. Keep things moving. But the Captain… what's he really like? Delende told me you two have been working together for a while…"
She narrowed her eyes. "Are you…" But Kevin's face looked totally innocent, she sighed. "He's not—I mean, yeah, everything's good. He is good at his job."
"Course," said Kev. "I doubt Cdr. Jensen would put up with someone who wasn't. Seems like she values people who care pretty highly, and well, just values people, yeah? It's a real big sister, mentor thing she's got going with all you blues."
"Huh," said Quinn. "Haven't worked with her so much, I dunno. The Captain tends to keep—well he's friendly, but professional. Work/life balance, yeah?"
"Oh yeah, boundaries, right. But he doesn't, like, drink with you guys or anything? I mean, things are at least friendly on the job, right?"
"Why are you so interested in this?" She frowned. "In the Captain? I thought we were supposed to be networking. Got a thing for older guys, is that it?"
"Oh no I… really, no. Just trying to get a feel for your world up here. When I was just starting out, and, and… in school, sometimes it felt like nobody really cared about what I was feeling. Like, everyone was just going about their own shit. So when I get to meet people… I just want to know if things are okay. Like… honestly. No wrong answers, but… I wanna set the tone early. To be real friends, and not just two assholes entertaining each other when we're really both fighting alone in our own heads. Sorry." He smiled sheepishly.
"He's not—" Quinn set her jaw. "It's like—he's not all cold professionalism. He has this father-daughter thing with… with me (not that—well yeah, 'daughter' is how he—) well anyway… it's yeah. Nothing like, weird, not romantic—he's married! I don't have a thing for older guys either." She looked up at Kevin again; he listened attentively, expression softly neutral. "It's… I don't know. It's good I guess. Like I'm… necessary, y'know, doesn't hurt my job prospects." She chuckled nervously and gulped down a few quick mouthfuls of water.
"Okay. Nice!" said Kev. "Hah, I'm kinda jealous. It's all 'cold' in Engineering, it's like… we all like each other well enough, but nobody knows how to express that. I mean, I do, but I dunno if it would be welcome. And engineers… nobody hates gay people, but I'm pretty sure it adds to their awkwardness. Wish I had a Work Daddy, or, I guess maybe a Work Mommy?"
"No, it's not—" Quinn flushed red and averted her eyes. "You're so—" She shook her head and looked up at him. "How? Do gay guys just have magic powers or something? How can you be like this, so—so not awkward."
"Definitely not 'magic'. I spent years as a shy little weirdo… I might still be. Shy, I mean… I'm definitely still a weirdo." He laughed. "It's not about some 'inner strength'… well, maybe a little, but I've found good people. My friends, they uhh, they really care, and we build each other up. They give it back, no shame. There's this girl Kayla, she came with me—E&R, and—"
"How can you go through with it?" Quinn blurted. "I mean, opening yourself up, it's like… you're spending your chance. And what if it doesn't work?"
"I dunno, I guess I just did. But, like, somewhere deep down, I knew. I know if I can really trust someone or not. I think…" Kev glanced at her once; he was trying not to. "…I think the hardest part for me was… I was attached to a lot of people, and, and I knew some of them weren't up to snuff. That if I went all in on the people I knew deserved my trust, it would… it would make those others seem… dull, by comparison. The ones who were… supposed to be… and all those years…" Real tears leaked from his eyes. This was less 'performance' and more channeling. His truth.
Quinn rested a hand on Kevin's shoulder, but her eyes were still downcast. "It just feels like," she mumbled. "Like… like it's not really about me, I'm just… some prop, and people only see the surface."
"Yeah," said Kevin. "I don't mean to scare you, but I do have a sense for this stuff. For people who are… like me. And… and for the longest time I just kept going, or even pushed harder. Tried really hard to hear other people out, so I could make up for—or… or earn it back. And after that, when it burned me out, giving for nothing, I felt awful. Like I deserved to suffer alone, for 'failing'."
Quinn looked fully away and wiped quiet tears.
"…but I don't think it's bad to want to do right by people," said Kevin. "To have, like, a purpose. Quinn, can I ask you for something?"
She looked up.
"Could you, um, give me a hug? It's okay if that doesn't feel right…"
She stood up and sniffed. "I'm glad this isn't, like, some straight guy shit."
Kevin stood also, and they embraced tightly. "Ah, I'm an idiot," he whispered. "I pity those straight guys, their wound-up tangles of bullshit. But that's probably just because I think they're cute."
Quinn snorted a laugh.
Slowly they released each other. Kevin held both the Lieutenant's arms, said: "I'm sorry. You never deserved it, to be stuck with people who care more about their stories for you than your own story. You're a wonderful person; listening, really listening is the bare minimum." He sat back down.
"Y—you're not leaving?" she said, and sat as well. "Heh, lot to do for a damn professional reference."
"I guess…" He smiled. "I guess my kinda 'networking' isn't just about that. Quinn, I think you're a wonderful person. I want to introduce you to my friends, we have this Slam Poetry Club…"
"Poetry Club?" She frowned. "Aww, and I thought you were cool. This isn't some cult shit, right?"
Kev shook his head. "Nothing religious, and we're not trying to sell you anything either. Just wanna get to know each other, and maybe figure out how to be healthier together. But not, like, 'Wellness,' heh."
"Fine, lay it on me. But I'd only go for you, Kevin. I don't really care about poetry."
"No seriously, I have some great friends. You're gonna love Kayla, and you know Jacques Delende. Anyway, yeah, our next meeting is Sunday—tomorrow night, 19:30, room 168B back in the main Ops Base. We do every Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday, but just come to one. You'll see." He stood.
"Alright, yeah. Spose we should both get back to it, huh?" She stood and offered a hand. "Thanks, Choi. I, uh, felt good. Seems rare."
"Nothing like a good cry to raise your spirits," he said. "But don't worry, our club isn't gonna be a Trauma Circle all the time. We did silly shit on Friday, and—oh!—tonight's theme is romance. I hope you've found at least one guy, or girl or et cetera, who didn't get scared off by your Work Daddy." He grinned and made for the door.
Quinn Jackson's lips tightened. "Hey, Kevin!" she said.
He faltered at the door. "What's up, Lieutenant?"
"Um. She/they." Their eyes flashed up and down. "For me."
"What, really?" Kevin met her eyes and smiled widely. "Oh, that's amazing!" He turned around and came back towards her, shoulders low and arms extended. "Haha, oh I'm going to be really annoying about this. It's gonna be all 'them's from now on, and you should see me during June, and… you got any pins or anything? Stickers?"
Quinn shook their head.
"Oh don't worry, I have plenty… shoulda worn something today, this uniform's so plain! What, you think you're my only—trans, right, would you call yourself trans?"
"…I don't know. I'm kinda new to, um, telling people."
Kevin held one of their arms. "Don't worry about it. I have trans friends; anybody asks, I'll be stickered up for them. But, umm… would you rather I only do 'she'? Like, for people who might not be…"
"Yeah, um, just you for now. But if you have friends who—"
"Oh, of course! It's a Poetry Club, whaddaya think… yeah, they'll listen, but no rush. Only when you're comfortable." He grinned. "We know how to keep a secret. 19:30 tomorrow, 168B. And let's do dinner sometime, just us two." He left, glancing back at them excitedly to smile more than once before he disappeared behind a wall.
Quinn Jackson let out a shuddering exhale. She smiled.
***
Sometimes, Fred Wilson would hang out in Maintenance. There wasn't much for him to do today, but he liked the company, for better or worse. His friend Mike Falworth was there, as well as Dani Suarez. They'd eaten lunch in the break room, with another Maintenance worker they called 'Hopper,' and Randy Porter from the service desk. He's really come outta his shell from the poetry stuff, thought Fred.
Now only three remained: Fred, Dani, and Mike, sitting around in awkward silence. Dani was tinkering with some little metal assembly. Fred was considering whether or not he should invite Mike to the night's Poetry Club meeting. The man was some sixty-three years old, hunch-backed and almost entirely bald. But he was a nice man, who'd worked with Fred Wilson (and many other Fred Wilson types) most of his life; he'd 'seen some shit'. The sort of nice man who was quick with a joke, to friends, but knew his limits. Wouldn't want to really hurt someone with his words. Still, thought Fred, might not be up to snuff. Kayla only wants the best. As she should.
"Ey Mike," said Fred. "Whatchu doin' this evenin'?"
Mike smirked and snorted. "A date? Thought you'd found yourself a lovely lady, Wilson."
Fred looked away. "I…"
"What?" Dani looked up from her work. "What's this about? Fred, you didn't tell me you met someone!"
Fred rubbed his hands together. "Yeah… I'm not really sure. I mean, I like her, and she's cool, but umm…"
"Aw, not this again!" said Dani. "Fred—you're a fuckin' catch! You better not trip up on the goal line again… who is she? I'm gonna keep givin' you shit until you take your goddamn shot…"
"It's, um," Fred grinned nervously. "…Kayla. Doctor Farris, from… well, y'know…"
"Huh? Her?" Dani dropped her autospanner.
"Dani… you know this chick?" grumbled Mike. He cleared his throat and leaned towards Suarez. "Aach, tell me more! What's her deal? Y'think she—"
Dani shook her head. "Nevermind what I said. You're lucky, ya big goofball, fuckin' hell…"
Mike stood with effort. "But what… y'think she likes him back? One'a you guys got a picture or anything, phone picture?"
Dani frowned. "Haven't you been payin' attention!? He only likes girls that give him the signs, he… awww goddammit, how do you do it Wilson? I mean, aside from bein' handsome as hell and solid as a rock, what do these poor women see in you?"
"That's right," said Mike, with a twinkle in his eye, "Freddie here's a good kid, and who could say no to that smile?" He rubbed Fred's shoulders. "So you found yourself a bona fide knockout. When do I get to meet 'er?"
Fred smiled. "Well…" he said.
***
The rest of the day passed quickly for Cori Jensen; she didn't have much to do. Quick power nap, jog around the indoor track to get the blood moving, check-up on things back on Earth through her holotab. Then: a whole lot of nothing. Maybe I should take Choi up on his 'book list'. She'd never been much for reading.
At the gym she'd talked to Lieutenant Raif Carson about eating dinner together at the mess, and in a larger group-message that invite had ballooned to include several other people, many of whom she'd met in Poetry Club: some C&E folks like Fred and Suarez, Ensign Tina Barros, and a few from E&R, including the Geologist guy, Savarin. We can all go to the meeting afterwards, she thought. Gotta be nice to Dr. Farris… but not too nice. Don't be weird; she's taken. She stomped confidently down the hall towards the cafeteria, eyes level, nodding to the dutiful salutes of the people she passed.
Food first. Cori noted that the growing group they'd put together had already spilled into two tables. She shared a nod with Carson before making her way to the grub line. Savarin was in line too; she waved, but there wasn't time to talk.
At the table, Commander Jensen was introduced to several people she hadn't met: another Geologist named Marla Oakes, a guy named Mike who Fred and Dani knew from Maintenance; a few others from both departments. And the turnout for N&S was better than she'd expected: along with Carson and Ensign Barros, there were Ensigns Andrew Bly and Sam Steward, the latter of whom was going to be piloting one of the big Extraction rovers tomorrow; she had plenty to speak about with him. But Cori figured she'd just listen for most of the meal, she was hungry. Let Raif do the talking.
And he did for a while; then he asked her a question: "Commander… have you seen Delende today? He's still doing your dirty work, right?"
Cori swallowed and nodded. "Yup. Better be done by now, for 'is own sake." She smirked. "Still wearin' his Special Uniform." Fred and Carson had been speaking favorably about the club meeting tonight. They might've found some new members.
"He's gotta come here eventually," said Fred. "I'm more worried 'bout where the main three are, Kayla and Kevin and Livvy. Not like Kayla to miss dinner…"
"With you, right?" asked Dani Suarez. She looked around the table grinning ironically. "Guess she's given him the slip already…" Her gaze caught on Cori's, and both women froze. Wait… is she…
"Buzz off, huh Dani?" said Fred. He flapped a hand at her. "They musta gotten early dinner, getting' ready for tonight and all."
Ensign Barros set her fork on her plate. "What do you guys actually do in this club? You had a meeting Friday, right Lieutenant?"
Carson tapped his lips with the tips of his fingers, clicked his tongue. "It's a poetry club. We write poems, then some people present 'em. But it's more about… well, hangin' out together, shooting the shit, all that. Meeting people from other departments, like we're doing now."
The orange-clad old guy, Mike, piped in: "Yeah… easy to just stare at all you blues and greenies, like, 'Who do these assholes think they are?' Nice to meet you all, find out you're assholes forsure." Fred shook his head.
"Sure, Mike," said Dani. "Can't wait to see what kinda poetry an ape like you can write."
Cori smiled vacantly. For some reason, her mind was stuck on Ensign Delende. It wasn't like him to eat alone in his room; Pérez and Ellison had both texted her saying they were too busy to make it to dinner, and some variation of 'see you at the meeting,' but Jacques had been radio silent all afternoon. Hope he got it all done, she thought grinning; she didn't doubt it. Hope he's okay…
***
Kevin Choi, Livvy McNally, and Makayla Farris ate dinner in their suite. They did have a meeting to plan for, but mostly Livvy was upset; her tears now seeping rarely like the last gentle rainfall of a calming storm. They weren't about to abandon her; they three were the core. And there seemed to be some chance that she didn't go to the meeting tonight; subtly implied by her bitter words: "I'm not going!"
Kevin swallowed a forkful of chickpea salad (it was terrible), and glanced at Kayla. Then to Livvy he said: "It's okay. I was gonna lead tonight anyway, and now we've got Fred to—"
"No," said Kayla. "Livvy, I'm sorry, but we don't have time. If you can't do the meeting tonight, you'll have to make it up recruiting. Ten more promising prospects for Wednesday."
Livvy frowned; her plate was untouched. "Everyone else is gonna be rotting in their rooms," she grumbled. "Wanna be 'left alone,' fuckin'…"
Kayla looked at her intently. "Door-to-door if need be."
Kevin sighed. "I know it's hard, honey, but put that asshole out of your mind. He's way out of line."
Kayla narrowed her eyes at him. "Wrong again, Kevin. He's not… I know, I know. He's one of those bigoted guys who thinks he's 'not transphobic,' or homophobic or whatever. But he's… you don't see what she's seeing. He had potential, he just—"
"Potential." Kevin shook his head. "You're too forgiving, Kayla. What good's 'potential' when what he's doing fucking sucks?"
Kayla shook her head. "And you can't just talk her out of liking him…"
"I'm right here!" Livvy cried. "Great listening, guys…"
"Hey," said Kayla. She held Livvy's shoulder gently. "We want to, but it's about more than that. We gotta do what we gotta do, even when it's hard."
Livvy sighed. "I know," she said. Sullenly, she began to eat. "I guess I'll just go to the meeting then. Put on a Happy Face!" She sighed again, more heavily. "Maybe Jacques won't even show up, now that he hates me…"
"He doesn't… Jacques doesn't want to be hateful, Livvy," said Kayla. "He knows what he's doing, on some level. I think he might even be bi, one time we had this—"
Livvy's fork clattered onto her plate. "Oh what, like that makes it any better!? He thinks I'm just some delusionalguy, but that's okay, 'cuz he'll still fuck me!?"
Kayla frowned at herself. "Sorry. What he did's still fucked up, but that's not it either. He thinks… urgh, he's such a fucking dipshit… he thinks everyone's Equal. Like, currently." She shook her head. "Or… that this is just how things have Gotta Be." She snorted, smiled. "Don't worry Livvy, this'll be fun. We're gonna show his stupid ass."
***
The Commander's work was done, and Livvy's lie had been laid bare, as… thorny as that whole situation had been. Jacques Delende spent the afternoon, up to and including his dinner alone in his room, scheming. I don't really know what's going on in any of these people's heads, he thought. Well, except for Kay. And maybe the Commander, but that's worse, she's… she's gonna give them a pass! The thought of telling anyone else; Companionship, or Captain Dacuma, or the Admiral, hardly crossed his mind. This was an interior matter; not until he figured out what specifically they were doing would he go so far as tattling. But I can't just tell people what I've found out one-on-one, they might agree with Kay… might be more loyal to her than me, or even themselves! Commander Jensen, for all her good qualities, probably was. She's gay for her, and anyway she said so herself. She's a true blue, bleeding heart, white guilt fuckin' woke chick. That should be a good thing! But then there's two-faced bitches like Kay Farris who see a free meal, fuckin' snake…
I've gotta tell everyone, all at once, and if they're all cooked, so be it. At least if there's a couple people who realize they're being duped, might wake the fuck up and get outta there, I'm helping them in the long run. And I've gotta get out, but first I've gotta say my piece. For the idiots… dammit, why am I the only one who gets it? He had a sure idea why. Fred's fucking pussy-whipped, and the rest of them… guilt! THAT'S what she's been looking for.
He glanced at his clock, 19:12. Shit! He stood and hurried out the door, headed towards room 168B along the shortest route. Gotta tell everyone, gotta make it CLEAR. I'll… that's it! They want people to be Helpful, right, want obedient little pawns for all her schemes? I'll volunteer for the announcements, say I'm sorry, wanna make up for being a dickhead. Then they'll see…