1y 11m 2w BV
Bart’s ship’s bridge, open space, en-route to trade station 1356-56B, The Desolate Oasis
Chuck
“Does your ship have a name?” Chuck Byse asked Bart.
He and Bart had been ‘sailing’ for several days now, on a trip from Earth’s moon to Bart’s shop on the trade station 12E-647 The Crimson Hamlet. The name had been translated to English from its native Rrrrtk name. Apparently its name was a rhyme, pun, and in-joke. Chuck declined to question further on the matter.
Bart hadn’t been joking when he said that they would need to stop for food. Even traveling at their mind-bogglingly quick pace –well over ten thousand times the speed of light– the trip would still take several weeks. The ship’s supply of those delightful objects known as nutrient spheres was beginning to run low, hence their layover at The Desolate Oasis, which they were rapidly approaching.
“Hmm? Oh, yes. The Silver Sailor.” Bart said with a bit of pride.
“Not the Silver Surfer?”
Bart paused, thoughtfully. “No, I’m pretty sure Krrkktnkk said ‘sailor.’ He did still recommend against it, something about ‘fans’ and ‘universes’ that fought with each other, a ‘hornet’s nest’ as he called it.” Bart put all four hands in the air, raising two fingers on each hand and flexing them every few words he spoke. It took Chuck a minute to recognize air quotes; He was used to seeing it performed with only two hands. “He implied that popular culture on Earth is an open battlefield, one in which it would be best to stand neutral. I disagreed. I figured any human connection I could make would help induce empathic responses.”
“OK, I’ve heard you mention this ‘Kirktink’ guy several times now. Who is he?”
Bart stopped for a moment to consider his reply. “A few years ago, a human by the name of Kevin Jenkins approached Krrkktnkk A’ktnnzzik’tk, Kirk to the humans who know him, then a customs officer aboard a remote trade outpost. Kevin defeated several Hunters with his ‘bear hands’.” Bart again threw his hands into the air, in his attempt to emulate air quoting. “It was in the news for quite some time. Krrkktnkk was inspired by that act to become, effectively, an advocate for humanity.”
Chuck paused for a moment. Something that he had been subconsciously considering up until this moment suddenly entered his conscious thought. Bart had not been consistent in his speech. There were assuredly consistent patterns present, but it was almost as if Bart had two separate personalities, each asserting itself at different points in his speech. “Hey Bart, I have a question for you. Why do you keep changing your speaking style?”
Bart had a puzzled look on his face, so Chuck continued. “You sound like you are narrating. Normally you speak with terse, formal phrases, but when I ask a simple question, you launch yourself into what sounds like pre-rehearsed exposition.”
Bart fidgeted a bit. He paused a moment, considering his options. He winced slightly and begun speaking sheepishly. “I suppose there is no longer a point in continuing this charade. I should have known a human, of all things, would see right through eventually. You see, I am not like Kirk. I strive to be like him, but do not have his ‘gray tongue’.” Another flurry of hand waving. “Not yet at least.”
He regained his composure and continued. “I have been studying human vernacular for years in preparation of my first human contact. I studied pop culture and idioms and meticulously planned the conversations I would have. I memorized dozens of human idioms and tried to insert them into the conversation wherever I could.” Bart took on a more depressed gesture. “I knew I would have to ‘set aside the act’ eventually.” This time Bark winked. Sort of. He scrunched up half his face while attempting it, but the intent was obvious. “Not everything can be planned in advance.”
Chuck gestured Bart to let him continue, studying him carefully as he spoke.
“Almost all of what I said on the Corti ship was carefully planned and rehearsed after an afternoon’s discussion with Kirk. I did not even know what these ‘Simpsons’ were until a few months ago. At first, I had simply searched for the first syllable of my name in your popular culture and picked the first entry I found. I may have spent the last few years studying humanity, but until a few days ago, I had yet to put it into practice. Do you have any idea how hard it is to learn a new language without someone to converse with, especially one with so much hidden nuance? In spite of my efforts, I doubt I could even hold a normal conversation with you if not for the translators.”
Bart turned away. For a few moments, nothing was present but the gentle hum of the engines moving the craft. “I do hope I made a good impression.”
Chuck stood silent for a moment, then quietly chuckled to himself, not allowing Bart to see his amusement. Bart’s intentions could hardly have been more innocent. “Well, even if that whole day was rehearsed, which I doubt by the way, you did indeed make quite the impression. Bart, you did well.” Bart looked pleased at the compliment. “Not every man can keep his cool long enough to steer a conversation for hours, especially if that man doesn’t know what he is talking about.”
Bart interrupted. “Is that meant as an insult?”
Chuck chuckled again. “No, Bart, speaking convincingly about a topic you do not understand is an art that can take you to great places.”
“That seems… dishonest.”
“No, at least, not necessarily. It is merely a tool, one that could be used for good or ill. There are numerous situations where pushing the boundaries of the truth will help everyone involved. There is no shame in lying to help others.”
Bart considered his words. “Mutual benefit though dishonesty… what a perplexing concept. One only a Deathworlder could think of, I would imagine. ”
Chuck’s chuckles bubbled into a guffaw. “Yet you, too, executed it well enough. I may have been more hesitant to join you if I knew then what you just told me, but you guided me through my first day in space well. If you had been more honest with your behavior, I may have suffered for longer before regaining my footing.”
Bart was taken aback by that. “I was not being dishonest. Every word I spoke was carefully researched to ensure proper translation. ” Bart paused and looked questioningly Chuck. “In addition, you adjusted your stance to match Standard Gravity without my assistance, though I am not sure how that is relevant to the topic at hand.”
Chuck suppressed another snicker while shaking his head. “You were being dishonest, just not in ways that mattered at the time. You pretended to know more about humanity, and more about the situation at hand than you actually did. That was enough to keep the conversation moving, and keep proceedings… er… proceeding. You must be careful when acting this way though, my friend. It can make things more complicated if you are not very selective about who you mislead about what. The truth will come out at some point. Make sure your exit to the truth will not hurt you, or anyone else you care about.”
“How can a lie be successful, if you expect it to be exposed? Surely, the goodwill lost will cost more than whatever you hope to gain?”
“No, at least not always, because first impressions matter.” Chuck produced a quick grunt of amusement. “Zilroy knew that well. Yet he took a passive stance at the start of that conversation… My presence must have caused him a moment of weakness.” Chuck shifted, somewhat uncomfortable with the topic he was approaching. “He came back and talked to me again after you left to get onto your ship. He tried to push past the sale.”
Bart had a puzzled look on his face. “Is that another one of those human concepts?”
This was interesting, it was certainly possible that human marketing strategies were unique to humanity. No, that was untrue. He had seen similar behavior already. “It shouldn’t be, Zilroy knew it at least…” Chuck stopped to ponder the implications. Perhaps Bart was simply unfamiliar with marketing? This explanation made little sense, surely in his study of humanity, Bart would have researched this topic… Unless the entire premise of marketing was foreign to him, indicating an educational environment in which that path of thought was simply absent. “Though, if skills such as this are not widespread, we’re in even better shape than I thought.”
“How so?”
“It’s an effective marketing technique. You steer the conversation in such a way that the topic you are actively negotiating presupposes the result you are trying to achieve. You work in sales of human items, correct?”
Bart nodded.
“If you tell a customer about, let’s say, which movie they should buy, it plants in their head that they want to buy a movie. The question is shifted to which one not whether or not they want to buy a movie at all.”
“Buy a movie? Why would you buy a movie when you can just download it?”
Chuck’s smirk faltered for a moment. “The lawyers are going to have a field day with you lot once full contact happens.” He shook his head. “Anyways, there we go again, opening up at least 3 goddamn more topics without even finishing the one we were discussing.”
“I do not understand. Enlighten me…what topics do you see?” asked Bart sheepishly.
Chuck’s eyes narrowed briefly, then he relented. “Why your store selling human items does not sell one of the few that can actually be recovered from Earth without landing; how copyright, intellectual property, and patent laws work up here –if they do at all; how you are able to download movies eleventy quabillion miles from Earth, while I am unable to check my goddamn E-mail 6 miles in the air; and a few other questions that I have no interest in going into now.”
Bart didn’t answer for a few moments, clearly lost in thought. “Let us continue this discussion later; I will need time to consider the ramifications of this conversation. Besides, we have nearly arrived at The Desolate Oasis.”
Shortly after
Silver Sailor, just outside the Desolate Oasis
Chuck
Chuck could not believe what he saw as the Silver Sailor approached the station. The station was huge. Hundreds of meters of steel and glass. Bart guided the ship towards the station after contacting the station by some sort of radio. The ship pulled close to the station, then a proboscis similar to what was used at an airport terminal reached out and contacted the ship’s airlock with a hiss.
Bart spoke. “This old station is just a small platform, but it should have all we need to restock. If I remember correctly there may even be a Gaoian shop present. I am sure you will find some groceries there. Buy enough for a month or so.”
Bart spent a few minutes showing Chuck how to use his small hovertrolley and how to purchase items with his datapad. “I have a few other matters to attend to now that we are on a station with an FTL relay. I’ll meet you back at the ship. Just… be careful.”
Chuck nodded. There was no use in asking Bart about every little detail. If he was to make a place for himself out here, he would have to learn. He did have one question, though, just to get a kick in the correct direction. “Where can I find this Gaoian place?”
Bart turned to leave. “The Gaoians should not be hard to recognize. They are quite similar to humans, but they do have a more normal looking snout and are slightly less bald.”
Chuck reflexively ran his fingers through his hair.
“Yes, hair like that. I would recommend against petting them, however. Some of them are short-tempered, and their claws are sharp.” Bart paused. “I have ordered some supplies to restock the ship, including what I hope is enough nutrient spheres to feed even you. They should be arriving later today. I must depart now, I shall see you this evening.”
A few minutes later
Halls of the Desolate Oasis
Chuck
Chuck wandered around the station. It was surreal walking in a place that wouldn’t have seemed out of place in a Star Wars movie. He couldn’t help but be intimidated by the scale of it. The streets were wide, and the doors and buildings taller than anything he had seen outside of a cathedral. And to think Bart had considered this a smaller station! He could hardly imagine what wonders a larger station would hold.
As he walked the halls of the station, he took notice of the aliens around him. Creatures of all shapes and sizes walked carefully around him, as if avoiding him. He also couldn’t help but notice many of the beings having hushed conversations with each other once they had noticed his presence. Bart had implied that this was a dangerous location, better to keep his wits about him. As he wandered further, however, Bart’s prognosis seemed incorrect. None of the beings around him acted with obvious hostile intent, in fact, every other being seemed to be wary of him.
He eventually found the part of the station that must be the market. There were a handful of shops there; it did not take long to find the one Bart had described. He stopped just after he noticed the shop in question, and suppressed a noise not typically associated with masculinity. The being that must be the Gaoian that Bart spoke of stood before him –and it was the cutest little fuzzball he had ever seen! How could you be afraid of this? He turned away and composed himself. Before this moment, he didn’t think it would be difficult to follow Bart’s advice and avoid petting it, but now… well he best steel himself –work was to be done.
Composure regained, he walked into the shop, beckoning the Gaoian. “Hello, friend, I heard that this establishment sells food?”
The Gaoian behind the corner tilted his head in disbelief and countered, “Well I’ll be, you’re a human, aren’t ya? You’re a long way from home.”
“Yes, name’s Chuck I’m traveling with a… uh… Ricky I think? He told me to come here and get a few weeks worth of food.”
The Gaoian nodded, avoiding the question. “Omnivore, right? That’s probably why he sent you here. Yeah, I can get you something. Name’s Hiron by the way. Anything in particular you’re looking for?”
Chuck looked around the shop. Most of the food looked quite appetizing compared to what he’d been eating, though none of it looked familiar. “I’m going to go with no. Anything is better than those nutrition spheres.”
Hiron duck-nodded. “I can get you sorted, I think.” He considered for a moment. “I don’t suppose you have means of payment? As much as I enjoy the company, I do have a business to run.”
Chuck nodded. Hiron assumed him to be unaware of how things are done up here. He was mostly correct, of course; It would almost certainly be helpful to play along for now. The best way to be introduced to a new culture would always be to find someone who understands it and let them teach you. For the first few minutes, at least. “Yeah, I have some sort of account full of Dominion credits. Will those work here?”
“Yes, that’ll do fine, give me a few minutes to gather up a package for ya. Why don’t you take a look around in the meantime?” Hiron sauntered through the aisles, picking up some items, stopping briefly to consider others.
Chuck looked around. Though it was hard to tell what exactly was on the shelves of this place, the layout, clientele, and atmosphere seemed much like a truck stop from back on Earth. Maybe there would be some interesting travel gadgets to play with. He selected a data card claiming to be some sort of Hitchhiker’s Guide and a small display device that fit the card, then went back to the counter. Hiron joined him soon after with a small cart of groceries.
Chuck considered the cart before him. “This is it? This looks like enough for maybe 4 days?”
Hiron looked at him, then back to the cart. “Alright cub, I can tell from the way you move that you’ve got more mass than most others. Just how much do you eat?”
“Uh, I dunno, maybe a half a dozen spheres a day?”
Hiron’s eyes widened briefly. After a moment to digest this new information, he reconsidered. “Right, I suppose I should have expected something that.” he shook his head. “I can sell you that much food, but it would get expensive right quick. You’ll probably want to continue eating nutrition spheres as the bulk of your meals.” Before Chuck could respond, Hiron continued. “Also, put that datapad away, you don’t need another one. I’m not in the business of selling people things they don’t need. Hand me yours, and I’ll get this guide installed for you. It might even come in handy,” he chittered, eyes full of mirth.
Chuck narrowed his eyes. Unfazed, Hiron explained. “Don’t be like that, you’re lost, and I can spare the few minutes it’ll take to get you sorted out. Besides, it’s not every day I get to meet an uncontacted species.”
Chuck paused. “I’ve been wondering about that. If humans are so rare out here, how is it that everyone seems to know what I am?”
Hiron chittered. “A few years back, some Hunters raided an outpost and a human broke them unarmed. It was in the news for days. It’s not often a Hunter attack is defeated. Hell, there were even survivors.” He stopped. “Sorry, got a bit excited there. I can’t speak for the others here, but I’ve heard plenty about humans because I talk to damn near every being that comes through this station.”
Chuck looked around the mostly-empty shop. “…Right.” He was sure that he was exaggerating, but saw no useful reason to question Hiron about that particular topic.
Hiron casually asked. “So, what are ya doing out here?”
“Buying food, mostly.”
“No, I mean in the grander sense. There ain’t many humans out here. Call it my own curiosity if you want.”
Chuck saw no harm in explaining his situation. At this point he probably had more to gain from this conversation than lose. “I ran a business on Earth. Right now, I’m trying to sort out the economic and political climate, Ya know? See what I’m up against, see if there is somewhere I can fit in.”
Hiron’s ears perked up. “Interesting. I do believe I have something that could help you.” Hiron picked up a small package behind the counter. “A little upgrade to the guide you are buying. It’ll be a damn sight more useful to ya than that datapad you tried to buy, at half the cost.”
“I’m listening.” Chuck drawled, slightly warily.
“Latest and greatest Whitecrest tech! This is a radio upgrade to your own datapad. More importantly, it gives you access to the Whitecrest clan’s own sub-A.I. Information Grid, Whitenet. Ask it a question, and it’ll find an answer for ya. If the question is interesting enough, a Whitecrest initiate may even be assigned to find you the answer you need.”
Chuck considered for a moment. “Somehow, you manage to make that sound like both a scam, and something that should have alternatives available for free.”
Hiron’s ears flicked back for a moment. For the first time in this conversation, he showed some signs of doubt. He –and his ears– quickly regained composure. “I assure you, this is better than anything else you can find on the market.”
Something had changed in Hiron’s demeanor. He was speaking to a different Gaoian than he met when he first walked into the store. He would have to pry further. “Hmm, live support eh? I don’t buy it, what’s the catch?”
Hiron’s ears wilted. “Uh… Whitecrest. They are in the business of information. If they don’t know it, they want to know it. That’s why they assign clan members to answer questions.”
Chuck narrowed his eyes. “There is more to it than that, isn’t there? Keep talking.” He was beginning to wonder just how deep this rabbit hole would go. Hiron was starting to crack.
“I…uh…” Hiron ’s ears were flat against his skull and his voice strained, but something was still not quite right. “Whitecrest came to see me. They handed me several of these units, told me to get them into the hands of any human who came by here. They went to each of the 20 trade stations nearest Earth and found a Clanless to… to do what I’m doing here.” Hiron sighed. “I was not supposed to tell you that.”
It had become clear that the Gaoian before had been acting before, and was still acting now, simply as a different character. Who exactly was this being before him. Chuck had a delicate balancing act to manage. Push too hard, and Hiron would stop talking, push too softly, and Hiron would re-gain control of the conversation. Luckily he had time on his side, and did not have need to push hard, just enough to keep Hiron on edge. “What is this Whitecrest clan, and why do they want information on humans?”
Hiron laughed, noticeably calmer than before. “Some unknown species shows up out of nowhere, offs a bunch of Hunters, and disappears into nowhere, and you wonder why Gao’s finest intelligence organization wants to learn about them?”
Ah, there it is. “So you’re Whitecrest then. And based on your interrogation techniques, a relatively inexperienced one, I would guess.”
Hiron’s ears told him everything he needed to know. The Gaoian had been easier to read than his old pup had been.
A few seconds later
Hiron, Whitecrest Associate, Officer in training
Well, this had not gone well. While Hiron had figured his position would be exposed eventually, he had hoped that it would happen on his terms. There was no point in denying it now, Chuck knew.
Hiron had been sent to the Desolate Oasis as part of his second ring training. He was one of the youngest and least experienced operatives sent to the trade stations near Earth, hence why he was at this backwater outpost. Hiron had earned his way into Whitecrest through his martial skills. However, everyone knew you had to be an excellent undercover agent to enter the higher ranks of Whitecrest. That was why his current training was so important.
He had had several months of low traffic to prepare for human contact and studied “redneck” culture as best he could (Smokey and the Bandit was his favorite documentary.) Even after all his preparation it took Chuck mere minutes to see through his crafted ablative guise. That in itself was not a deal-breaker, but only a moment later, another layer of his cover vanished, exposing him as the operative he was. What did he have left? Chuck did not know that he was still training for the second ring. He could still play the role of a seasoned agent. There was no way Chuck could know about that, right? Maintaining any cover would surely improve his scores in this training exercise, though he would have to put on the performance of a lifetime to even remain in the clan at this point.
OK, how to proceed? Pure professionalism, a full Whitecrest Brother would be in full control of his demeanor. If he could manage that he may actually pass this test.
Ready for it or not, it was now game time. He pushed a button behind the counter, accompanied by a very slight hiss, too high pitched for Chuck to hear. Must keep the relationship professional, no personal attachments. He knew he had the will to get through it, but even then, this was going to suck.
It was about this time that Hiron realized that he had been sulking for several seconds.
“Oh don’t be like that.” Chuck scolded. “I literally just had this same conversation with Bart. Your deception does not have to end this conversation. I’m sure we can still work something out. Now, what does this device really do?”
Hiron stammered, trying to think of a response. “It… does exactly what I said it does. Anything you ask it gets sent to the Whitecrest clanhouse in Wi Kao, gets processed, and a response is then sent back to your device. We use your questions to advance our own knowledge.”
“And every question I ask is answered truthfully?” Chuck probed.
Hiron continued his fine impersonation of a scolded puppy for a moment longer. Calm down, he thought I have to focus. He took a deep breath. The easiest way to weather this conversation would be to answer truthfully wherever it would not blow what remained of his cover or jeopardize clan interests. Now that he had a plan, his resolve suddenly returned. “Almost every question. The Whitecrest hold many things in strict confidence. There is still plenty of knowledge to be shared, however, as the only way to advance our cause is to have our services be useful to you.”
Chuck asked simply “Why me?”
“We sought to cast our net wide, and hoped to find one or two contacts that would bear fruit.” Hiron broke eye contact. “With what you have deduced already, I believe your input would be well worth the cost. I may even be allowed to remain in the clan.” Hiron stopped suddenly as he realized what he had said. This had been harder than he had thought. Scratch another layer of cover, Chuck was certain to have noticed that.
“Your boss will kick you out for blowing your cover? That seems… harsh.”
Hiron sighed. He may had been outed as a trainee, but he could still retain his professionalism. “This posting is one of my earlier rites. Being discovered while undercover would put quite the black mark on my record. I am hoping my current advisor will forgive my failures when he reviews my actions here today.” Hiron cleared his throat. “Though, for me to stand a chance in that matter, I do need to succeed in my primary mission.”
Chuck replied dryly. “Your mission is to sell an information device to those seeking information? This was supposed to be a challenge?”
When Chuck put it that way, the task he was assigned did seem fairly trivial. How had he managed to screw this up? It wasn’t his fault, Chuck had outplayed him from the beginning. An idea came to him. “No. It was not. Yet I managed to screw it up anyways. I want to make a deal with you. I need you to talk with my advisor.”
“You want me to explain to him why I caught you?”
“No, I’m sure that will prove to be quite obvious when he reviews the transcripts. I just need him to see who you are.”
“Well alright. I’ll meet with him… at some point. Right now I’m en route to the Crimson Hamlet. I have a few things I need to help my friend with. After that… well I’m still trying to figure that out. Perhaps your boss can help.” Chuck paused and… changed character… as he handed his data pad to Hiron. “Alright, fine, get me that Whitecrest radio thing.” Chuck muttered nonchalantly.
Hiron accepted the datapad and performed the disassembly necessary to supplement its communications systems. Chuck had been acting as well! Hiron would never have noticed this if he hadn’t been so conscious of his own efforts. Why had Chuck changed strategy? Did he intentionally allow his shift of character to be discovered? More importantly, what was he trying to do with this new character? He handed the datapad back to Chuck.
Suddenly, Chuck grinned maliciously. “You aren’t still planning on charging me for this, are you?”
Chuck’s flashing of teeth was enough to make Hiron want to run and hide, such a display of aggression promised overwhelming strength. Hiron must have emoted his fear, because Chuck immediately closed his mouth and looked around. He then poked at the privacy field Hiron had activated earlier. “Uh, Hiron… what’s this?” Chuck moved his hand in the field, seemingly mesmerized by the field flowed around his hand.
“Oh,” Hiron’s fear evaporating at a sign of Chuck’s ignorance. “That is a privacy field. Didn’t you notice? I put that up several minutes ago. I’d rather keep my identity as close a secret as I can manage.” Hiron dropped his head as the weight of those words sank in. Would Chuck expose his cover to others? That was something to consider later, now where was he… “But to answer your question, I suppose I can justify what you have bought as a legitimate contact compliance expense.”
Chuck stopped for a moment, considering something before continuing. “Excellent. I believe that is all I need at the moment. I think I’ll be on my way.”
Hiron duck-nodded. “Please, do not hesitate to call if you need me.”
Chuck nodded and left the shop. After making sure he was gone, Hiron sent a message to his advisor.
Cover as clanless blown. Communication device in possession of human who uncovered identity. Details enclosed.
He now had a moment to stop and reflect. Hiron was sure that Chuck had intentionally changed his outward persona 3 times in rapid succession. Once as he agreed to the Whitenet connection, once as he negotiated… payment, and a final time as he… as he noticed Hiron’s fear. But why?
For the first change, Chuck had just agreed to the meeting with Hiron’s advisor, then immediately took on a more… sedate?… persona. Almost as if he was trying to yield the conversation. He stopped a moment to consider, then, metaphorically, kicked himself. Chuck had granted him the lead in the conversation, and Hiron had chosen to remain silent.
The aggression that followed was obvious, it was a simple power play to secure the deal, but his apologetic attitude afterwards was…unusual. It was almost as if Chuck could feel the fear he had inflicted. Why would a being as powerful as Chuck care what harm he caused others? Hiron would have to consider this later, as reply from Whitecrest arrived.
Acknowledged. New objective, follow and attempt to join human in his travels. Secondary objective: attempt to coerce human to Gao. Report progress whenever relevant.
Hiron sighed. These next weeks were going to be tough. He did wonder why the clan was willing to let someone like him have such an open ended assignment. Surely there was someone more capable available? No matter, he had his orders.
Later that evening
Silver Sailor, The Desolate Oasis
Chuck
Bart returned to the ship an hour or so after Chuck did. He told Chuck to put the food into the stasis chamber, both to keep it fresh, and so that he would not have to look at –or smell– it.
Chuck had spent several hours browsing the Whitenet database. It was surprisingly informative, as long as you knew what question you wanted answered. He imagined that he would have learned more if he knew the correct questions to ask. Chuck glanced at Bart sitting beside him, reading a copy of a self-help book Chuck had recommended. He was considering a search for Rrrrtk pornography, just to see Bart’s reaction. That could wait until later, he decided.
Bart noticed Chuck looking at him and put his datapad down. “So Chuck. I’ve been meaning to ask you this.” He paused, gathering his wits. “Who are you? What is it you do? What is it you want to do?”
Chuck grinned slightly. “I’m glad you asked. I’m a businessman. Interpersonal communications, persuasion, marketing, media manipulation, negotiation, are all topics I studied. I built my own brand from the ground up.” He paused. “It turns out the whole business end of running a business is something you can hire someone else to do for you. I stick with the more… interesting parts of growing my brand.”
“A ‘self-manufactured man’ as you call it.” Again with the face scrunching wink. “I do admire that. I have tried to do that myself. Tell me, what are your future plans?”
Chuck had been thinking of that. “I have not yet decided. I suppose I want to build up a network and get back into business.” He stopped, enlightenment appearing on his face. He turned to Bart. “So, Bart, tell me why again you wanted me to join you?”
That night
As Chuck laid down that night to sleep, he considered Bart’s proposal. It had… not been great. Bart had been spending the last few years scavenging whatever human-type memorabilia he could find, and brought it to his store to sell. He wanted Chuck to scavenge with him, thinking a human would be able to identify what trash was the most valuable. It was clear that Chuck would have to follow his own path when planning his future endeavors. That had, of course, been his intention all along, but he had hoped to learn more about the market before taking the plunge.
He let out a heaving sigh. At this point, the best he could do is play along with whatever Bart is doing and try to learn just enough to get started on his own. He let his mind wander as he tried to fall asleep. He would have many questions for Bart in the morning.
The next morning
“Bart, why do you sell human paraphernalia?”
Bart gave a questioning look as he took a bite out of his nutrient sphere. “To make a living” he said simply.
Chuck finished off a sphere of his own and grabbed a second one. “Bullshit.”
Bart looked shocked, yet continued “What more is there? I need to eat, I need fuel, and I need living space. It pays the bills.”
Chuck shook his head. “No, no that is all wrong. Hell, I haven’t even seen what your place looks like, but I can tell just from our conversations that your work means more to you than just ‘paying the bills’. For God’s sake, you studied for months to try and make an impression on me!” Chuck quieted down. “OK, maybe not me specifically.” Chuck mumbled “…unimportant details.”
Bart spoke. “I had to make a good impression. I need your help.”
“Yes, you do.” He paused for effect. “But not for the reasons you think. What you proposed yesterday you could hire any random bum off the street to do for ya. I have no interest in being a picker.” Chuck elaborated, noting Bart’s confused look. “A junk salvager, moving on. I will join you for now, at least until I get the hang of this.” He said, gesturing to the universe at large. “But I fully intend on building myself a brand. This brings me into the questions that I came to last night. Why is everyone afraid of humans?”
Bart was perplexed. “We discussed this already. You are a Deathworlder. You are terrifying.”
“Not good enough; terror won’t sell. We’re trying to build a brand here. Why am I so terrifying?”
“Because you could kill me at any moment?” Bart shifted uncomfortably as he spoke.
“No, no that’s not useful.” He continued a moment later. “But we can step that back. The ability to kill implies power, or strength. Those are marketable.” He posed a question to Bart. “Does that sound about right?”
“I…I suppose.”
“OK, what else can we add to our little brand here? What else is humanity to the universe? Hmm…help me out here. What do you think of when you think human? Good qualities or bad. Even some of the bad qualities can be manipulated to work for us.”
Bart replied after a moment’s thought “Humans are certainly low tech. But surely there is no way to make that a useful quality.”
Chuck paused a moment. “Simple. Uncomplicated and reliable. Anything else you can think of?”
“Tough, I suppose? And, based on my discussions with you, clever. More clever than I thought, even.”
“OK, tough is good. Clever… that may be at odds with simple. Of the two, I think we’ll be better off with simple for now. So that gives us tough, simple, strong and reliable. Now for the most important part of the brand: the name.”
Bart raised his eyebrow. “I don’t see how that could possibly be true. Apple? Geico? Target? Those names don’t mean anything useful, yet the brands seem to work.”
Chuck stopped and tilted his head slightly. “Just how long have you spent studying humanity? Surely you don’t spend all day in your shop browsing the internet?”
“No, of course not. I mostly uh, ‘browse’ while in the Sol system waiting for the planets to align.”
Chuck interrupted. “Astrology? Really?”
Bart paused, slightly taken aback. He let out a breath and explained, almost condescendingly. “Of course I studied the planets and stars. The alignment of celestial objects are essential for favorable results.”
Chuck stood dumbfounded and shook his head slowly.
“Though, I thought the correct word to use was astronomy?”
Chuck paused for just a moment before breaking into a laugh. “You had me going there for a minute! It seems you’ve picked up our humor just fine.”
Now I was Bart’s turn to look dumbfounded. “I… do not understand. Is astrology some kind of joke?”
“Yes… kind of. You may want to avoid looking that one up if you don’t want to lose faith in humanity. Anyways, you were talking about waiting for planetary alignment?”
“Yes… I use the planets of your system to mask my endeavors. Waiting for alignment gives me a substantial amount of, uh, ‘time to slay’ as it were.” Bart again attempted to wink as he said this. “Wikipedia does help to pass the time. And ‘clickbait’.” Bart took on a contemplative pose. “You humans had me worried there for a while. For several days I thought I had made a mistake trying to learn about your culture. That word, ‘Clickbait’… quite an important one to know.” Bart sighed. “It is as if you need to be intentionally useless at times to allow your true ingenuity to be expressed.” Bart paused again. “Is astrology a form of clickbait?”
“Huh… I suppose it kinda is.” Chuck stood lost in thought for a few moments. He then shook his head to clear it. “Alright: name. Tough, simple, strong, durable… Steel. The name will have ‘steel’ in it. We want something that implies that our products are ‘as steel’. Steelish? Steely? No, those are no good. Hmm…” Chuck stood up and begun pacing in the small cabin.
Bart spoke up. “As steel? Wouldn’t you mean ‘of steel’?”
“Hmm, no, that implies that our products will all be fabricated from steel. I want to keep that open. But I like where you are going with that. Of steel, as steel, for steel, by steel… Perfect. By Steel. Byse Steel? Bysteel! I like it! Double meanings are great, gives people twice the chance to see something to remember in the brand’s name.”
Bart mulled it over. “That name does not have any meaning.”
“That’s what makes it so great. We can define what it means. It’s a good, tough sounding name. It’s missing something though. We need a second word. The first part of the brand applies to the product design, now we need something for the product’s construction. Something artisan-y.”
“Artisan? As in hand crafted? Chuck, are you sure you wish to produce everything by hand? That would consume most of your time.” Bart had a concerned look on his face.
“No, we’ll have to figure something else out. But I like the word ‘Craft.’ Gives it a nice down to earth vibe. It needs something though… Craftworks. Craft gives you the nice hand-built vibe, while the ‘works’ section implies repeatable, robust industrial processes.” Chuck paused thoughtfully. “Also sounds vaguely German. That won’t hurt.”
Bart declined to ask how ‘Craftworks’ and ‘German’ sounded anything alike. “Bysteel… Craftworks? That name sounds overly cumbersome.”
“Nah, it’s perfect! We can call it BCW later, it will be great! Hmm… You never told me the name of your shop?”
Bart’s eyes gleamed with pride. “Brrtklklk’s Human Items. It is a perfect name. Tells everything you need to know quickly and concisely.”
“…Right. Whatever floats your carcass, I suppose.”
Bart stopped. “I have not heard that one before. What does that mean?”
“Uh…Well nothing, I kinda made that one up. Ya know, ‘whatever floats your boat’ and ‘park your carcass’.” Chuck adjusted his collar. “So… nothing. It means nothing.”