Date Point: 5y AV
Folctha Colony, Cimbrean, The Far Reaches
Ava Rios
Banging on the door summoned Ava out of bed, and she threw on a bathrobe to answer it.
Cimbrean didn’t exactly have a postal service so much as it had Logan Brown, one of the schoolkids who took it on himself to hand-deliver any parcels and letters that came through the Jump Array on any given morning.
“Morning, Ava!” he chirped, handing her an envelope covered in USPS stamps and with the slightly worn feel of having travelled a long way in slightly careless hands. As soon as he was gone, she practically shredded it in getting the envelope open and sat down to read.
It wasn’t a long letter, but even so it had a rushed, shaky feel to it. Adam’s handwriting—unsurprisingly, for somebody who’d grown up never really needing it—had never been neat, but now his scrawl was only just legible, and that with some concentration and puzzle-solving.
“Hey Ava.
Not goin to lie this SUCKS I mean I knew it was going to but DAMN!! Its like a movie in here, I thought those movies were bullshit but we just get yelled at and bullied and told we’re stupid and it doesn’t make any sense. Everythings so weird too everyone looks the same same haircut same clothes same everything if they werent all taller than me Id think I was lookin in the mirror everywhere I go.
Powell was right I really didnt kno wat I was getting myself in to im tired all the time I keep being yelld at over nothing like they yell at me for not eating enogh like wtf Im full how do you expect me to eat more theres no room?!
shit they just told me Ive got to put the pen down I love you dont worry ill be okay its just crazy round here.
Love—Adam.”
It made for tough reading. She went to school in a low mood.
Date Point: 5y1w AV
Lackland Air Force Base, San Antonio, Texas, USA, Earth.
Adam Arés
“Alright trainees this is your morning wake up call I want you out of those beds and at attention before the end of this sentence, Get up! Get up and stand at attention!!“
Responding to the daily indignity of being shouted awake had become a reflex, and Adam was already scrambling out from under his blankets by the end of the word “trainees”.
It was only around about the word “beds” that a horribly familiar pressure in his boxer shorts finally infiltrated his awareness as his morning wood made itself known. Several of the rest of the training flight had noticed and were fighting to keep a straight face, while his own face slowly turned pink.
Not for the first time, he regretted accepting the first bunk he’d found, right next to the MTI’s office, because there was no time for it to go down. Technical Sergeant Lake was already progressing down the dorm, on the lookout for ANYTHING he could criticize.
He paused by Adam, who swallowed, awaiting the humiliation that was surely imminent, but instead, Technical Sergeant Lake’s voice was calm and quiet, amused even.
“Trainee, you have my sympathies, but you need to be standing at attention.” he chided, very gently. “So you do that, and you don’t worry about anything else.”
“Yes, SIR!” Adam choked out, and forced himself to stand fully upright, thanking the Lord that nobody, nobody could possibly have remained hard in these circumstances.
Technical Sergeant Lake—who was always thought of and referred to as Technical Sergeant Lake, and addressed with the loudest “SIR!” that the trainee could muster—nodded and carried on, leaving Adam to compose himself.
The next trainee was unfortunate enough to be making a desperate little chewing motion to try and keep a straight face, and Technical Sergeant Lake rounded on him like a terrier on a mouse.
“Trainee, do you find this amusing?!” he demanded, screaming the question at most an inch from the culprit’s nose.
The luckless trainee’s expression sobered instantly. “No, SIR!”
“Were you perhaps trying to get a good look then? Is that the first time you’ve seen a warhorse, Trainee?!“
Adam’s eyes shut themselves of their own accord just for a second, and he knew that his face must have gone as red as tabasco. If the whole base had been hit by a meteorite at that moment, he would have welcomed it.
“N–no—” the trainee began.
“I DID NOT ORDER YOU TO SPEAK, AND IF I HAD I WOULD EXPECT YOU TO SOUND OFF LIKE A MAN!!” Technical Sergeant Lake roared. “Front leaning rest position!“
The trainee instantly hit the floor and held himself there, ready. Technical Sergeant Lake directed a glare around the room that could have boiled steel. “If anybody else cares to comment on your fellow trainee’s gift, get it out of your system!” he ordered. Nobody so much as twitched. “Outstanding! Trainee!” he addressed the young man on the floor. “Push the Earth until I say otherwise!“
He turned to check on Adam, whose composure had now recovered somewhat, grunted, and strolled through the dorm, taking his time over it. “Make your beds!” he ordered. Then, to the trainee on the ground: “Trainee, recover! And since you’re so enamoured of our warhorse here, you can help him make HIS bed first! JUMP TO!!“
Adam threw himself into the chore, grateful for something to do. The relief at being able to finally get started with a day’s training rather than dwell on his embarrassment was huge.
By the time they had showered and there was food in front of him, he’d almost completely forgotten that it had happened.
“So hey, WARHORSE.”
Adam’s bunk-mate was John Burgess, and the two had bonded quickly over learning that they shared some San Diego experience. Burgess had lost family to the ‘Big One’, the quake that had crippled the south side of Los Angeles in the aftermath of the detonation, when their house had collapsed. He’d been one of the few who had managed to keep a straight face that morning.
“Ah, fuck, you’re not going to start calling me that, are you?”
“Hey, man, it fits! I mean, DAMN! You’re a fuckin’ grower!”
This prompted a round of laughter, cat-calling and good-natured hollering, while Adam was yanked back to the morning’s embarrassment with a cringe. “Oh fuck, come on, really?” he protested.
Burgess just grinned. “I’m just sayin’ man, no wonder your girl writes you so much!”
“Fuck you, man.” Adam told him, though it was said with a smile.
“No, please!” Burgess threw up his hands in mock defense. “I wouldn’t survive!”
“You’re one to talk!” one of the others chimed in. “We’ve all seen you in the shower, the fuck are you smuggling in that sack, grapefruits?”
“Man, they ain’t that big!”
Adam snorted. “Like fuck they aren’t. You used to pitch for your school team, right? We should start calling you BASEBALL.”
Burgess frowned at him. “No!” he asserted.
“Too fucking late, brother.” one of the others asserted. “You call him WARHORSE, you get called BASEBALL. All’s fair in love and war.”
There was general snickering at that one as the newly-christened ‘BASEBALL’ wilted. “…shit.” he declared.
Adam laughed. Being able to share the experience of an embarrassing nickname was taking some of the sting out. “Guess we’d better get used to it.” he said.
Date Point: 5y1w4d AV
Folctha Colony, Cimbrean, The Far Reaches
Ava Rios
As Cimbrean’s population had ballooned with the influx of Byron workers, the school had expanded with it, hiring a second teacher and splitting into three “grades”. The oldest of which, for the time being, consisted solely of Ava. It was a bit lonely at the top, but the lack of distraction had allowed her to really focus on her studies.
Still, she was grateful for being checked up on. Jessica Olmstead had assumed responsibility for the middle group and mostly left Ava to educate herself, intervening only to recommend a syllabus and make sure that everything was going well—mostly, what lessons she gave to Ava these days revolved around study techniques and how to learn and self-organise, rather than conveying subject-specific information.
“Is that another letter from Adam?” she asked, sitting down.
Ava nodded. “Yeah, he gets to send me one a week, this is the fourth one. Logan delivered it on the way in to school.”
“It’s a shame you can’t have phone calls.”
“Yeah. I really miss just hearing his voice…” Ava looked at the letter, longingly.
“Could I–?” Jessica asked. “I mean, not if it’s too personal, but I’d like to know how he’s getting on.”
Ava nodded, knowing that Adam’s letters never contained anything embarrassingly intimate, and she slit the letter open with a fingernail, unfolding it onto the desk.
“Hey Ava” she read aloud. “I think I’m starting to do okay now. Our TI said on like day one that if he was using the word stupid it’s because we’re doing stupid stuff, and that’s really started to sink in now, I’m starting to get it.”
“Things aren’t what you’d call easy, but we’ve kind of got into the rhythm now. There’s no time to stop, everything’s all go, there’s no downtime, and whenever I get to feeling like I really want just a few minutes to relax, we just get pushed harder and it turns out I didn’t need the break after all. Nobody’s allowed to hide in the back and let it all happen to other people, I thought I could at first, like if I just shut up and did as I was told I’d breeze through this and not get yelled at, but that doesn’t work because they still pick up on what you’re doing wrong and fix it. They don’t let us coast along, it’s all push, all the time.”
And now I actually kind of enjoy being yelled at now. Is that weird? If I’m being yelled at it means I fucked up” she stopped reading and shot a glance at the younger kids. “Uh, sorry Jess.”
Jessica giggled “It’s okay. Go on.”
”…It means I blanked up and I don’t want to blank up. Being yelled at means the TI’s got my back, he wants to help me not blank up in future. So when he yells at me, he’s helping me.”
“They’ve made me Guidon bearer, it’s kind of cool but I have to carry this thing on runs and salute with it and it’s heavy as-” she cleared her throat “…as blank.”
“That’s my fifteen minutes, lots of love to Dad and even more for you.”
Love, Adam.”
Jessica sat back. “Wow.” she said. “He sounds…different already.”
“Yeah.” Ava agreed, quietly.
”…are you okay with that?”
Ava folded the letter again. “I guess I have to be.” she said.
Jessica inclined her head—Ava had sounded genuinely philosophical rather than resigned or bitter. “What do you mean?”
“There’s…” Ava sighed, and sat back, running a hand through her hair. “Like, there are so many things I can’t change. I sure as heck couldn’t change Adam’s mind about this, if I could he wouldn’t be Adam. So what’s the point in not being okay with them?”
“That’s…true, I guess.” Jessica conceded.
“Yeah…” Ava looked down at the letter. There was a sharp tap as a wet patch appeared on it and she scrubbed furiously at her face.
“Ava, if you need some time alone…” Jessica offered.
This earned her a brave little smile, and a headshake. “I’m…No, I just need to, to focus on the things I can change. That’s all.”
”…Okay. You let me know if you need anything, okay?”
Ava just nodded her gratitude, set the letter aside, and returned to reading the textbook she’d chosen.
Jessica went to make herself a cup of tea, and didn’t return until she was absolutely certain none of the kids would see that she’d been crying.
“Hey Ava,”
“Big news: I got told today Im going to be honor graduate!”
“Theres so much Id like to write here, about what Ive been through. My head just feels full of ideas all settling into place at last. Theres just no way I could cram it all into 15 minutes so Im not even going to try. Its so weird Week 0 feels like it was yesterday and like it was years ago at the same time I wonder if youll even recognize me?”
I cant wait to see you. Ive missed you so much, its going to be unreal seeing you again.”
—Adam.”
Date Point: 5y 2m AV
Lackland AFB, San Antonio, Texas, USA, Earth
Ava Rios
“Okay, I can’t see him.”
Ava gave Gabriel a teasing smile. “You don’t recognise your own son?” She asked.
“I’m looking right at the guy carrying the flag at the front of his flight, and that’s not my son, I’d swear to it.” Gabriel protested.
“It’s Adam.” She promised. “Right height and build, right face.”
“He moves differently.”
There was a deep-throated chuckle from Gabe’s left. “It’s called ‘marching’ mate.” Powell told him. The captain had declined to share his reasons for attending the graduation, but in any case he stood out less than Ava would have guessed. His wasn’t even the only non-US uniform present. In any case, Powell had a remarkable ability to stand still, watchful and quiet and slip people’s attention when he wanted to. He was scanning the few hundred trainees in the parade with a cool, level stare that took in the details. “Your lad’s an Airman now.”
Gabe frowned at him. “He’s…still the same person under it all though, right?”
“Even better.” Powell said. “Trust me, he’s the same bloke under it all, but he’ll be sharper now, more confident. Probably in a bloody good mood, too.”
Gabriel looked back and squinted. Ava guessed that he was trying to connect the buff, buzz-cut creature of precision and intensity in front of them with some earlier vision of Adam, most likely the wiry, shy guy from school that she’d first started dating.
Those two people didn’t seem to have a lot in common, but it was definitely Adam. She’d spent too long staring at that face to mistake it.
“Do you think he can do it?” She asked Powell. “Pararescue, I mean?”
The captain nodded. “He can.” he said. “That’s not to say he will, mark you, but he’s in with as good a shout as anyone can have.”
“What happens if he drops out?”
“Personally, I’d bet against that.” Powell commented. “But if he does, he does and I’ll bloody respect him for giving it a go. There’s plenty else he could do, and all of it would be a walk in the bloody park after dropping out of the pipeline.”
“I guess it’s better to know where your limits are and acknowledge them than fake it.” Ava guessed. Powell bobbled his head a little, indicating yes-and-no.
“True. But you can’t fake it wi’ that kind of training.” he said. “That’s why it’s so hard. But your fella’s got a superman button, miss. Poke him the right way and he’d spit in God’s eye to get the job done. I reckon if his trainers know their business—and I’m pretty bloody sure they do—they’ll have figured that out already.”
“I never knew.” Gabriel said softly. They both looked at him. His eyes were shining with a mixed bag of pride and something else that Ava couldn’t quite identify.
Powell clapped him on the shoulder. “Only the beginning.” he promised.
Gabe acknowledged that with a nod, and didn’t comment further, so neither did Ava nor Powell until the parade was done and the gathered airmen had been given a rousing congratulation and freed to see their families and visitors.
Ava took first dibs on greeting Adam, throwing herself into an enthusiastic hug that turned out to be like tackling a wall. He hadn’t grown in size much, but Adam’s muscles had clearly toned and hardened under that uniform, and he lifted her as if they were still on Cimbrean.
He murmured into her ear. “Miss me?”
“You know I did.” she replied, and kissed him.
Gabe interrupted them by hugging them both. “I hardly recognised you.” he said.
“It’s the haircut, right?” Adam grinned.
“And the body language, all that stuff.” Gabe replied. “You move more like he does.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Powell, drawing Adam’s attention to the older Marine’s presence for the first time. Adam hastily extracted an arm from the hug and saluted.
Powell returned it but said nothing, indicating with a wry expression and a tilt of his head that Adam should focus on his family first.
They fussed over him for a few minutes longer before Gabriel finally suggested that Adam should discuss whatever business it was that Powell had brought with him. He in turn was then dragged into the discussion by dint of being Cimbrean’s security chief, leaving Ava to stand alone for a little while.
Adam even listened differently now, she noticed. Feet shoulder-width apart, hands clasped behind him, attention totally on whatever it was that Powell was saying.
“So, you must be Ava.”
She was being addressed by another new airman, a young, acne-scarred African-American man who offered her a hand to shake. “WARHORSE said a lot about you.”
She shook it. “WARHORSE?”
“Your boy Adam there. That’s his callsign.”
“He never mentioned that…”
“Eh, he hates it.” The airman grinned. “Did he mention me? John Burgess, I’m going into the PJ pipeline with him.”
“Yeah, he did!” Ava nodded. “Nothing but good things.”
“I hope so, motherfucker took the top bunk over me for eight weeks!” He laughed, then self-censored. “Uh, sorry. Bleep.”
“It’s no problem. So…WARHORSE?”
“Couple’a reasons. Your boy can carry anything, he’s strong as shit, put a bag on him and he’ll run all day. So, we could have called him Packmule, but…y’know with a name like Arés…”
“Makes sense.” Ava agreed, grinning.
“Now the other reason is—”
“Goddammit BASEBALL, don’t you tell her!” Adam returned in time to gently clamp his hands over Ava’s ears. She giggled and wriggled free.
“Aww come on man, I’ve GOT to meet the girl brave enough to take you on.”
Ava frowned at him, ignoring whatever it was Adam was so desperate about. “Brave?”
Burgess grinned. “you know? The pants monster? Your boy here’s morning wood damn near took my eye out from across the room!”
“Wh–wow, really?” She’d seen Adam naked before of course, but that had been swimming, and he hadn’t been at anything like…full…
She censored her own mental film reel.
‘BASEBALL’ paused, then grimaced. “Ah. Shit. You, uh…didn’t know?”
Ava shook her head. Adam just glared.
“So you two haven’t–?”
Now both of them glared.
”…I’ll, uh,” Burgess backed away, pointing generally over his shoulder. “I’ll see you at the start of Indoc, brother.”
“I’ma kick your ass worse than the PT.” Adam warned him, though there was a hint of amusement under the warning.
“I deserve it!” Burgess declared, and left them in peace.
Adam snorted and caught Ava’s gaze. She was studying him with a grin of her own pulling at her cheeks, threatening to burst out into laughter, and it started to pull even harder when her eyebrows raised themselves at him.
He cleared his throat. “He’s…exaggerating.”
Her eyes flicked downwards. “Guess I’ll just have to see for myself sometime.”
She allowed the smile to finally break out in full once her back was turned. Never mind the uniform, the haircut and the precision, his expression in response to that had been pure old-school Adam.
It was good to know he was still essentially himself.
Adam Arés
Gabriel was treating them to dinner, while Powell had made his apologies and jetted back North to return to Folctha. Adam and Ava sat together in the back seat of Gabe’s rented SUV on the drive into San Antonio proper, holding hands and talking quietly.
“Okay, so…why ‘BASEBALL’?” she asked eventually.
“Couple of reasons.”
“One cool, one embarrassing?”
“That’s pretty much it, yeah.” Adam nodded. “Burgess can throw. Says he was pitcher for his school team, and when we were practicing with dummy grenades…yeah.”
“And the embarrassing?”
“BASEBALL. For…more or less the same reason I’m WARHORSE. I don’t have to draw you a picture, do I?”
She laughed. “Please don’t!”
“We’re here.” Gabriel announced. He’d pulled the car into the parking lot of a steakhouse called “The Barn Door” which he’d looked up using the excuse ‘when in Rome…‘
It didn’t take long to seat them, in a low-lit corner with a good view of some rodeo photographs and the two-foot flames on the grill.
“So.” Gabriel broke the silence once they were seated and had glanced at the menus. “That was Basic, huh?”
“Yeah.” Adam agreed. “Weird, it seemed really hard at the time but now…I mean, I’d find it easy if I had to go through that a second time.”
“Eager to get on with PJ training?”
Adam smiled sheepishly. “Dreading it.” he said. “But, yeah. I said to Powell when he tried to warn me about it, y’know, people do pass it, and…it’ll be tough, but I’m gonna be one of them.”
Their waitress showed up. “Get y’all some drinks, folks?” she asked.
“Iced tea, please.” Gabe requested.
“Coke?” Adam asked.
“Sure! And for you honey?” she asked, addressing Ava.
“Diet coke, please.”
“Okay! Y’all ready to order, or do you need a few minutes?”
They looked around, determined that they were, and ordered the 24oz porterhouse for Adam, a catfish fillet for Ava and the Tenderloin for Gabriel. She gathered the menus.
“Okay! My name’s Rose, if y’all need anything just make eye contact and I’ll be right over to help. Drinks comin’ up!”
“So what happens after indoc?” Ava asked, once Rose had gone.
“Airborne training, survival, diving, mountaineering, medical training…”
“I mean,” she interrupted, “After all that, too. Are you going to be on Cimbrean, or…?”
“Maybe.” Adam said. “I’ve got some career choices coming up, and if it all goes right then hopefully I will, but if I’m not…”
“You two’ll just have to figure it out.” Gabe told them.
Their drinks arrived, and they chatted amiably about Cimbrean and the progress of the Reclamation Project.
Ava was in the middle of explaining how Byron group planes were soon going to carpet-bomb the Scar with saplings and seeds in shaped canisters that should embed in the ground and then rot away, spilling Terran plants into soil that had been hugely enriched by the same fungal and microbial action that had killed the native flora and fauna, when the main courses arrived.
She boggled at Adam’s steak. “Where the hell are you going to put that?” she demanded.
Adam just grinned and tucked in. “I’m a food vacuum nowadays.” he said, and devoured a cube of medium-rare beef.
Gabe clicked his tongue disapprovingly in the side of his mouth. “Enjoy it, Amigo!” he chided. “Take your time!”
“I AM enjoying it!” Adam reassured him, after swallowing. “That’s why there’s so much of it!”
Ava giggled, then stood up. “I’ll be right back.” she said, and vanished in the direction of the ladies’ room.
Adam was still watching her backside when Gabe tapped him on the upper arm. “Hey, Adam. Man talk for a second, while she’s gone. Okay?”
Adam blinked at him. “What’s up?”
“I love you both very much, right? I’m hoping for a future where you two have got a couple of beautiful kids, and…”
“Dad…”
“Shut up and listen, man.” Gabe sighed. “That’s just what I want, okay? If you want different, fine. But tell me honestly—if you’re serious about her, then that’s the kind of thing you need to think about. Are you serious about her?”
“Totally.” Adam said, firmly.
“Good, because she’s serious about you too.” Gabe nodded, though his expression was still concerned. “Just…be careful, alright? You’re looking at two, three years of only getting to see each other every other month on a long weekend, or something. That’s going to be difficult.”
“We know. We talked about that.” Adam promised.
“And?”
“And…” Adam trailed off, then shrugged.
“Adam, I’m proud of you right now, but don’t be dumb about this, okay? You can still be honor graduate and all that stuff and still fuck up your love life. Don’t…” it was Gabriel’s turn to pause, searching for the right turn of phrase. “Don’t forget to…”
“Dad. She’s tough. We’ve talked this over together, and…we’ll get through.” Adam reassured him.
“I know she’s tough. You both are. I just…” Gabriel sighed and gave up. “I just hope you’re both as tough as you think you are. Okay? I don’t want you to wind up hurting each other.”
“We love you too, Dad.”
Gabe gave him a sidelong hug. “Good to know.” he said. “I just needed to get that said.”
Adam nodded. “It’s heard. But…I’m sure we’re fine. After everything that’s happened…”
“You never heard about the last straw that broke the camel’s back, Amigo?”
Adam frowned. “She’s said she can cope. That’s good enough for me, Dad.”
Gabe sat back with an uncomfortable expression. “How—” he began, then paused. “She—”
Adam waited for him to finish. Or even get started. In the end Gabe just shook his head and hugged his son again.
“Alright, Amigo. If that’s good enough for you…”
Date Point: 5y 2m 3w AV
Dominion Embassy Station, Earth/Moon L1 Point, Sol.
Doctor Anees Hussein
“So this is Cruezzir?”
The Corti ambassador raised a hand. “Not…quite.” he revealed. “The Directorate was dead set against the idea of your species acquiring the original Cruezzir drug. In fact, we are now discontinuing it, and strongly advise that should a sample of the original fall into your possession, you should destroy it.”
“We will…take that under advisement.” Doctor Hussein assured him. “Though in that case, what is this on your desk?”
“A derivative, specifically designed for the human market with the intent of avoiding some future pitfalls.”
“What pitfalls?”
Medrà inclined his head in a strange way, as if reading something only he could see. “Used correctly—as a topical or therapeutic target injection, rather than permanently marinating the patient’s system in it—Cruezzir has no side effects whatsoever. None.” he revealed. “It is, I dare say, a masterpiece creation of the Directorate’s biolabs. That factor alone was sufficient for our anthropological researchers to take exception to giving you access to it.”
Hussein frowned. “I don’t follow you.” he said. “Where is the problem with a medicine that has no side-effects?”
Medrà mimicked a thin-lipped, prim smile. “Doctor, if I have learned one thing about your species these last few years, it is that, if dirt were edible, you would all be obese.”
”…I see.”
“No insult is intended, you understand. You are from a dangerous world, I can only assume that to use and stockpile resources as rapaciously as you do was a necessary survival instinct for your genetic forebears.”
“As a medicine, though…” Hussein protested.
“We are not satisfied that it would remain a simple medicine. You already know of the one nicknamed the “Human Disaster”, which means in turn that you also how to synthesize Cruezzir in industrial quantities. All you need is a sample of the drug itself.” Medrà gestured oddly: it took Doctor Hussein a second to recall from his studies of alien body language that the gesture indicated concern. “We fear that Cruezzir injections and patches would become commonplace, even the norm, taking an already imposing species and making the pinnacle of your physical potential trivial to attain, rather than a lifelong pursuit which precludes the study of other, more…cerebral endeavors.”
Hussein considered his Corti counterpart for a second. “You make it sound like you want us to remain below our potential.”
“Your potential, doctor, is already intolerably ahead of any other species’.” Medrà countered. “If some semblance of balance and fairness are to be retained for the rest of us, then you must either be encouraged to remain below your potential, or else encouraged into isolation. The failure of that latter strategy is why the Directorate has appointed me.”
“To keep us down.”
“To remind you that you need to be kept down.” Medrà had at least perfected the knack of returning a human’s stare. Most aliens instinctively looked away. “Or shall I point to the ecological grafting you are performing at great expense on Cimbrean to remind you of that fact?”
“I believe you just did.”
“Indeed.”
Medrà picked up the phial on his desk again. “This version, this Cruezzir derivative, contains a limiting factor—resistance. Over time, any human who regularly uses it will steadily, but slowly, become increasingly immune. There are a few other changes, mostly designed to prevent the drug from being synthesized by your symbiotic bacteria but…suffice it to say we feel less uncomfortable releasing this for you to use than the medicine for which you actually asked. There will be no more Human Disasters with this derivative.”
He gestured out of the window, toward the Earth. From the L1 point where the Dominion embassy was anchored, it filled a respectable portion of the sky. “I believe your ancestry comes from a region responsible for the myth of a ‘jinn’, doctor?”
“Close enough.” Hussein conceded, diplomatically refraining from commenting that, as the Holy Quran had it, jinn were perfectly real.
“According to that myth, the ‘jinn’ would grant wishes, but would twist the wishes according to a literal interpretation of their wording, to the wisher’s detriment.” He offered the phial. “We, doctor, are twisting the wish according to a sensible interpretation of its intent, to the wisher’s and our own mutual benefit.”
Hussein considered his options, then gave up and took the phial. “In that case,” he said “having read the trade agreement and been advised on it…we accept the terms.”
They shook on it. Gently.
Date Point: 5y 2m 4w AV
Hey Ava
I’ve only got three words to say about Indoc so far: Holy fucking SHIT.
This is really bringing me back down to earth.
I’m going to get through it though. No matter what.
Thinking of you,
—Adam