IC Contact Post

[therushingsky]

"Heyyyy, you've reached the head office of the Atlas Corporation, leave a message and your number, and one of our people will get back to you."

Comments

[therushingsky]

Yeah, no shit.

[That's kind of the problem. There's a long, difficult pause.]

If this is about helping someone else, how do I tell myself that I shouldn't just offer to make this dude a hand that I know you won't have hacked? If it's about giving you something to do, then how do I justify risking someone else going through what Quentin went through?

And if it's just about-- just wanting to work with you? Wanting you to like me?

[Then how shitty a person does he have to be to go for it, knowing what his work might be doing to someone in the long run?]

I don't know. Could I think about it for a bit?

[biocomposer]

I had one reason for doing what I did to Quentin. By disclosing to Barnes what I'm capable of, I have mitigated the risk of doing it again to as great an extent as I can while you still know that I'm capable of doing it. Incidentally, Kepler knows that I would not be Quentin's first choice for this project, and he accepts that, because the work I do will be the best anyone on this ship can offer.

All of that being said: of course. Take your time.

[therushingsky]

So what was your reason for what you did to Quentin? Has that changed? At all?

[biocomposer]

I told you this once already. It was a test. If I could access Quentin's nervous system via a cybernetic prosthesis, I could do the same to my...killer.

[therushingsky]

Yeah. You did tell me that.

[He'd forgotten. In the rush of all the other things he'd been worried about when they talked about it, the reason had slipped away from his mind.]

Okay, fine. I'm in.

[biocomposer]

Thank you, Rhys.

I'll get in touch with Kepler.

[A long pause.]

...Gortys asked me to pass on a message, as well. She - misses you.

[therushingsky]

Shit--

Is she lonely? Am I just--

[No, you know what, no point in unloading right now.]

Thanks for telling me, Man.

[biocomposer]

...Apparently I'm her best friend. I've chosen to take that position seriously.

[levity?? mayhap??]

I believe she's still adjusting from being constantly at close quarters with other people.

[therushingsky]

Yeah.

It's weird, back home we were all just on the same ride at the same time, and everything was always happening at such a breakneck speed, I barely felt like I was responsible for keeping myself alive.

Here-- If I'm not worried about six people killing themselves or each other, then it's a slow day. I don't know if it leaves room for being much of a friend.

[biocomposer]

Maybe...

Maybe you two need to discuss openly what your friendship looks like, in a new environment.

[therushingsky]

Yeah, maybe.

I'll talk to her. We used to do-- like, a lot of road tripp-y stuff, when we lived in the caravan. Tabletop games, shooting at billboards, stuff like that. Maybe we could resurrect something like that.

[biocomposer]

Mm.

I stayed there with her for a few days. I can imagine how it would foster that kind of activity.