The Captain finishes her cigarette well before you do, in the awkward silence that follows. She takes out another one, and leans in close to you, making unbroken eye contact, while she lights up off your cherry. You stay very still, studying her scarred, beautiful face, and it hits you: she's afraid of you. She's scared, and she's acting tough because she wants you to be scared too. If you're scared too, maybe she's safe.
After an age that is somehow only scant seconds, she pulls back, smoke trickling from her nose. So you seize the initiative: "You said we could leave each other alone. Well...Nattie's alive. And...I don't know what happened, but I've got no hard feelings about you. I don't really wanna fight." Your voice gets small. "I'm already so sick of fighting."
"Get used to it," the Captain advises. "But. I'm willing to keep my word there. Nattie's special." You resist the urge to look at the Threshold soldier, certain - from your glimpse at her - that she's red-faced and doesn't want
anyone looking at her. "Where the hell are you taking her, anyway?"
Nattie steps forward and salutes smartly, one fist over her heart. "Captain, ma'am, Project Throwback will be assisting with civilian rescue of Station 104 and the Bay area."
The Captain frowns, but this is a thinking frown, you just know it. "104, 104 - oh. Those guys. Oh!
There's an oneirophysicist down there!"
"There are innocent people in danger down there," Nattie reproaches.
The Captain waves it off. "Obviously, whatever, but do you have any idea of how much easier your work would be with a dedicated oneirophysicist on deck? It might be worth changing the plan, starting the new settlement at the bayside...wouldn't be the worst location, and you'd have access to seafood, tidal power. We can't keep the nuclear plant going forever, not even if we can hold it. There's no godsdamned uranium near here."
...
......
"I forgot we're powered by a nuclear plant," you admit, in a very small voice. "That sounds. Bad."
"Yeah, that's why I didn't ditch it to go rescue my ex," the Captain replies, almost apologetically. "...We're looking to make contact with the farms here soon, see what we can save, how we can help, but in the meantime it'd be a blessing if we could maybe buy food off y'all."
Oh. There's an in there too. You flash a small smile. "I'm sure there's things we need too. Have your people talk to my people?"
Sasha and the Captain both bark a laugh, and Sasha tries her hardest to pretend she didn't, returning to glaring at the woman who wears your face, and has your voice. Said Captain looks over the home you've built, and nods once, to herself. "We'll be in touch. To be frank, we owe you one for this. The old man and his fuckin' supervillain disease were pretty good for teaching basic ethics. Bastard was obsessed with 'em. Caught 'em off mom like a disease..." She sighs a cloud of smoke, and quotes, distantly: "Good science is rigorous. Great science helps people. And he never did want to be anything less than great."
"...I'm sorry for your loss," you murmur. "I. If he's the man I think he is, we only met briefly. Look, I...I woke up at T-Minus fifteen, bleeding in a bathroom, I barely got out alive. I don't remember you at all, except when I do."
"You wouldn't. You caught personhood off me. Humanity's diseased like that." She stubs her cigarette out on her body armor and just turns, leaving, without another word. Part of you considers running after her, compelled by the sorrow in her one last eye, but...
...But she's scared of you. So that will have to be that. For now, anyway.
"Jill," Sasha drawls, "you alive? You gonna survive that cigarette lighting?"
"
No," Jill answers, in an anguished voice, and when you blink at her everyone, even the Chef, is laughing at you.
End Part 2: Waking Nightmares
"...My ancestors understood the Law differently. To them the Law was a cloak, something that restricts you, but also warms and protects you. You must don the Law on purpose, and if you find that bargain too restrictive, well, there's an offer there too. You shed the cloak, and become outside of the Law; a resident of chaos."
- The Celt, personal communication
The doctors might actually kill you if you try to work. Propose 2-5 activities for the upcoming 2 weeks.
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