Megalodon City, Tundra, Year 404 After Founding 6:48 pm

  Live, trust James, get an internship. Those were the orders. Alanna stared at herself in the mirror. She wore her best clothes, which consisted of jeans and a sweater. They were her only clothes. Benji had been walked into exhaustion, and she could only hope he would behave himself. She glanced at her wrist comm. 6:49pm.

  Her last job interview was eight years ago. She had been seventeen years old, fresh out of her last year of school. Alanna remembered standing outside the navy recruitment office. The signs were still small and unassuming then, long before the war. The interview should have been a formality, her test scores automatically qualified her for a navy scholarship. But it hadn’t worked out that way. In fact, it took them six months to call her back. And in retrospect, Alanna suspected they stepped up their recruitment by then, knowing the war would escalate. And that had been her last interview. Until her ‘successful asylum interview’, as Samantha Hawk so delicately put it. That one had gone well too.

  6:52pm

  She texted James. Interview at 7pm tonight. Wish me luck.

  6:55pm. No response. Of course, there couldn’t possibly be. He was likely too far away by now, and there was a blackout on comms for the duration of the mission. She looked down at the sound of a buzz on her wrist comm, her heart leaping into her mouth. The text was: I’m on my way up. It was not from James. It was from Grant Pardo. Alanna looked back at her own reflection in the mirror. “Samantha Hawk was an orphan.” She said. “Samantha Hawk was an orphan. You’re just like Samantha Hawk.” Her reflection looked back at her dubiously. “Well, that was stupid.” Alanna said out loud. Turning away from the mirror and walking out, she pressed the button to the right of the elevator, preparing to let Grant into James Hawks’ apartment. “Sit.” She said, tugging Benji down until he finally sat. “You are going to be good. Do you understand me?” She looked into Benji’s warm brown eyes. Benji wagged his tail somewhat uncertainly. She looked up at the sound of the elevator doors opening before her. And then up. And then more up.

  Her reaction was barely in time. Benji released a growl so low she didn’t so much hear it as feel it along her spine. And then he lunged. Holding on to Benji’s collar for dear life, Alanna pulled with all her strength, practically tackling the dog to force him to sit back down.

  “I… I’m so sorry.” She gasped. “He’s never like this. I… maybe we could…”

  The giant squatted down, holding out his hand to Benji. Alanna really wished he wouldn’t, but it was too late by then. Benji tore out of her hands, launching himself forward. Upon reaching the giant, he froze, as if hypnotized. After a long moment of staring, Benji cocked his head, first to the right, and then turning it very slowly, all the way over to the left. “Woof?” He said, the tone of his bark deeply uncertain.

  “You’ve been on the planet about a day. How could you know what the dog is like?” Grant asked. The deep, melodious rumble of his voice echoed oddly in the empty, abandoned garden.

  “Oh well he… I…” Alanna tried to breathe. “I’ve been on the planet a bit longer than that.” She finally got out.

  “In prison?” Grant asked, standing up.

  “Until my successful asylum interview.” Alanna managed to get out.

  “Did you meet the dog in prison?” Grant asked.

  “Uh. Y-yes, actually.”

  The giant reached down briefly, petting Benji on his head. “May I come in?” The giant asked.

  He has huge teeth, Alanna thought. He’s huge but the teeth are even bigger. How are his teeth so large? “Please, come in.” She managed, gesturing towards the apartment and walking forward somewhat unsteadily. “Again, I’m so sorry about the dog. I didn’t expect, well…” She looked up, and up, and up, into the giant’s odd, yellowish green eyes. And tried not to look at the teeth. “You were very good with him. With Benji.” She gestured towards the dog. And wondered if Benji had noticed the teeth. Dogs probably did.

  “I like dogs.” Grant smiled.

  Alanna really wished he wouldn’t.

  “And why is the prison dog here?” Grant asked as he followed her into the apartment, leaning down carefully to fit through the doorway. He was just short enough to stand up straight in a Tundran apartment with standard height ceilings. If he wore very flat shoes. If he were a few inches taller, he would have put his foot down and insisted he be stationed on a different planet.

  “Oh well it’s a, kind of a long story and…”

  “I would to like to hear it.” Grant walked carefully around the ceiling lamp, and looked down at her.

  “We sort of made friends, in prison. Benji and I. And so they asked me to keep him.” Alanna replied carefully, glossing over a significant number of events.

  “So, you led the dog to mutiny?” Grant asked.

  “I… what?”

  “You made friends with a prison guard dog while you were a prisoner.” Grant said, filling in the blanks in her story with minimal effort. “And presumably the prison authorities gave you the dog because he could no longer perform his duties. Did he attack a guard?” Grant asked.

  “Ah.” Alanna said, standing frozen. Don’t panic, she thought. Do not panic. What would Samantha Hawk say? “It’s a gift.” Alanna said.

  “So then, mutiny.” Grant noted. “Also on D12. And the mission on Titan? The one against a Sarayan officer who so famously ‘had it coming’, did that involve mutiny?”

  “I think it might be classified.” Alanna said weakly.

  “I head up the planetary shields project.” Grant responded mildly. “My clearance is rather high. Tell me, this captain that had it coming, did you serve under his command?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ah. Well, thank you for your honesty. May I use the bathroom?”

  “Oh. Of course.” Alanna nodded, gesturing towards the bathroom door in the hallway behind them. She watched him enter, waiting until the bathroom door closed before dropping her head momentarily into her hands. I’ve been shot at, Alanna thought. I’ve been shot at a lot. I have this. I have this. She ran towards the kitchen, setting out the table and warming the pot of mint tea she had made earlier.

  ---

  With a deep suffering sigh, Grant looked around the bathroom. The hair brush wasn’t out. He ran his hands along the sink and the green granite countertop, but found no stray hairs that might belong to Alanna Summers. His mood darkening further, Grant hissed slightly before he started opening drawers. There were things that were beneath him, and then there was this. He should quit. He should quit this damn job and go home. He didn’t have to put up with this shit. Gritting his teeth, he pulled out a hairbrush. With great distaste, Grant removed stray hairs from the teethed instrument and placed them into a bag, carefully sealing it and placing it into his pocket before returning the hairbrush to its previous location and softly closing the drawer. DNA sample, acquired. And there was parking. His plans, were always brilliant.

  ----

  “Thank you.” The giant said as he walked out of the bathroom.

  “Of course.” Alanna called out from a room on his left. Typically, that would be the kitchen. With another deep suffering sigh, Grant followed the voice. The last thing he wanted to do, was talk to Alanna Summers.

  “I made you some tea.” Alanna offered, setting a cup on the table as the giant walked into the kitchen. And then she froze. Grant probably wouldn’t fit into any of the chairs. And if she didn’t do something now, there was a good chance he would turn around and leave. Somewhere beyond the giantness and the teeth, Alanna sensed that Grant was not eager to continue the conversation. “W-would you like to sit on the floor in front of the fire?” She offered, a note of desperation in her voice.

  Grant held up one giant hand.

  Alanna froze.

  “The sharing of sustenance fosters trust and social ties, and may be used to create a sense of obligation in the recipient.”

  Alanna closed her eyes momentarily. “Yes.” She agreed.

  “Are you trying to create a sense of obligation on my behalf?”

  “It’s tea.”

  “Your point?”

  “The sense of obligation is somewhat commensurate with the value of the sustenance that is being offered. This is tea.”

  Grant considered, picking the cup off the table and holding it in front of him. “This is not tea.” He said.

  “Um. Can I get you something else? Some other… something that is more tea?”

  The giant’s eyes narrowed slightly, as he peered suspiciously into the cup. “This is leaves in water.” He pointed out.

  “Isn’t that tea?” Alanna asked, before she could stop herself.

  “No. Tea is dried leaves in water. This is fresh leaves in water.” He held out the cup to her, as if to demonstrate that the leaves were indeed fresh.

  “It’s fresh mint tea. I’m sorry. It’s probably a Sarayan thing but I didn’t realize. I’ll get you something else. Here, please.” Alanna pulled out everything James had in his cabinet. “Just, let me know which one you would prefer?”

  Grant took a sip of the leaf water. “I like it.” He said with surprise.

  “I’ll get you the whole pot.” Alanna said, placing the pot in front of the fire, where Grant could sit without her worrying about the awkwardness that would ensue if he broke furniture. She sat down on the floor, hoping that Grant would find it awkward to continue standing and join her. And then she looked up, and up, and up.

  “I’ve had a shit day.” Grant said, still standing.

  “Um, because of me?” Alanna asked uncertainly. Her neck was beginning to hurt. Benji came up behind her, licking her hand in much needed reassurance.

  “No. It was not because of you.” Grant looked at the dog somewhat sourly. He had said he was coming for an interview. And he understood the basic concept. He would ask questions, the prospective employee would answer them, and then he would reject them. This was the process. He was not entirely clear on whether the conversation they just had would suffice. Scratching the back of his neck with one giant hand, he reluctantly sat down. “I will have more of the tea.” He said.

  “Of course.” Alanna refilled his cup. “And if, I mean you know, if you wanted to do this at a different time and…” Alanna looked into the yellowish green eyes. There was not going to be a different time. “I truly and sincerely appreciate this opportunity.” She tried.

  Grant’s eyes narrowed noticeably “What is that?” He said.

  “Um. What’s what?”

  “That thing. You’re doing that thing with the appreciating the opportunity. It doesn’t mean anything. And I don’t like it. Don’t do that.”

  “Do you mean being polite?”

  “Yes, that. Don’t do that.”

  “Right.” Alanna agreed, eyes wide. “I will not do that.”

  “You’ve killed a significant portion of your commanding officers. Was it more or less than half?”

  Alanna choked on her tea. “It was less than half.” She finally answered, between fits of coughing.

  “And only the ones that truly had it coming?” Grant asked somewhat drily.

  “Yes.”

  “And the others?”

  “I’ve had commanding officers for whom I would give my life, with no hesitation.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Trust, loyalty.”

  Grant sighed, and reminded himself that he had promised there would be an interview. “And if you are to be given this particular opportunity…” He said, waiting to see if she would draw the glaringly obvious conclusion.

  “Oh.” Alanna said, trying desperately to follow Grant’s reasoning. “You want my loyalty in return for… an unpaid internship?”

  “Which is apparently an opportunity that you would, what was it? Truly and sincerely appreciate. That part seemed quite” he eyed her dubiously. “sincere. Why is that, exactly? It is, as you say, an unpaid internship.”

  “It’s in geology.” Alanna said, without hesitation. “It’s what I’ve always wanted to do.”

  “And the head chopping? More of a hobby?”

  Alanna was ready for it this time. Being polite, was not something Grant did. Clearly. “Surviving is not a hobby.”

  “Was the head chopping necessary for survival?”

  “It’s not that easy to win over Tundran troops, being me.”

  Grant frowned. “Why would promising to chop off someone’s head win over the troops?”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Because… well I guess I don’t know, really. It just did. I said head on a pike, figuratively speaking, and then it just took off and… it just did. The president released his history, didn’t he? Bernard’s history?”

  “Yes.”

  “If you did your research on me, you must have read that, as well. It’s a high bar, before I kill my commanding officers.”

  Grant’s eyebrows climbed up.

  “Sorry.” Alanna added.

  “For what?”

  “For…” Right. Being sorry was polite. “I’m sorry because that probably isn’t the thing to say in an interview.”

  “So, you’re not so much apologizing to me, as to yourself.”

  Alanna winced, took a breath, and tried to regroup. “This goes no further unless I convince you I would be loyal.” She said, trying to bring the conversation back to what Grant seemed to actually want.

  “Perhaps not even then.”

  “Necessary but not sufficient.”

  “Correct.”

  “And if I say I will be loyal?”

  “People lie.”

  “I’m not sure you’re getting any more tea, Grant.” Alanna said. And then, to her intense relief, Grant smiled. So, there was still a chance. Alanna was always willing to fight for a chance. She leaned forward. “My people trust me.” She said. “Even the dog trusts me. Dogs don’t lie.”

  “Dogs do lie, but under different circumstances. So, you are capable of loyalty.”

  “Yes.”

  “Granted. But you’re not even at necessary.”

  “You’re brilliant. If you give me the job, you’re giving me a chance at something I want. If you’re not a sadistic bastard, that’s enough. It’s enough for loyalty.”

  “And if I am?”

  Alanna sat perfectly still, channeling Tony Sicaro’s poker face. “Then we’re not at necessary.” She said.

  “And your word?”

  “You want me to swear my loyalty?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m an oath breaker. Infamously.”

  “And yet, capable of loyalty.”

  “Does the oath get me to sufficient?”

  “No.” Grant said flatly. “Only necessary. And barely that.”

  “If given the opportunity, I swear my loyalty to you, for the duration of the unpaid internship.” Alanna said, trying to keep any note of sarcasm out of her voice. She wasn’t exactly an expert on interviews, but what in the actual fuck was this?

  Grant laced the fingers of his giant hands, and looked into the fire. “Very well.” He said.

  “We’re at necessary.”

  “Yes.”

  “And sufficient? Do you want to talk about my credentials?”

  “You don’t have any credentials.”

  “But… James said you wanted a geologist.”

  “I do.”

  “And I have…”

  “A bachelor’s degree.” Grant finished for her.

  “Really? Whatever happened to discarding politeness and social conventions?”

  “A degree is not a social convention, it is a proxy for knowledge.”

  “Why use a proxy when you can test actual knowledge?”

  Grant shrugged. “I’m not a geologist. No one on Tundra is. We don’t have a geology program. I suppose we could try someone from Saraya.”

  “With actual qualifications?”

  “Yes.”

  Alanna sat up straighter, as Grant’s reference to Saraya helped her finally connect two pieces of information that until that moment, had lived in two different worlds so far apart, they could not possibly be connected. “Grant Pardo.” She said. “Doctor Pardo.”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re published.”

  “Of course I am.”

  “No, I mean you’re published on Saraya.”

  Grant waived his hand in an odd, dismissive gesture. “I’m published everywhere.”

  “I read your paper. On quantum entanglement. I read it for extra credit in physics.” She hesitated. Grant probably would not be impressed by her minor in physics.

  “Summarize it.”

  Oh god. Alanna closed her eyes, doing her best to focus. She had liked the paper. It was brilliant. And the idea that the man in front of her had written it, well it was impressive. He was published on Saraya. “You agreed with Einstein.” She said. “God does not play dice with the universe. And the nature of entangled particles does not change in response to human observation. The whole idea is stupid.” She laughed, suddenly remembering it with greater clarity. “That was what you wrote in the paper. Not preposterous or unfounded or any of those appropriate academic words. You said it was stupid.”

  “It is stupid.” Grant said mildly.

  “And then you went experiment by experiment and explained why the methodology was flawed. Something about sampling errors. I skimmed that part.” And then it was easy, because the rest of it, the conclusion, she remembered perfectly. “You said faster than light speed communication was possible, not by changing the state of entangled particles, but by detecting the moment entanglement breaks. The moment of disentanglement can be detected instantaneously, across any distance.” Alanna looked over at Grant, trying to gauge his response. “It is a binary mode of communication.” She continued. “Entangled, not entangled. All computing is binary. In theory you could communicates words, voices, images, by detecting the moment of disentanglement.”

  “Succinct.” Grant said, his tone neutral.

  “Do you want to talk about geology?”

  “I don’t do geology.”

  “What else can I do to get to sufficient?” Alanna asked. And then she poured him more tea.

  Grant looked into his cup. “And it’s just mint leaves?” He asked.

  “From the garden.”

  “So you pick up the leaves and…”

  “I can make this tea as an intern.”

  “Have you ever read this book, something about Frankenstein?”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Why are you sorry?”

  Alanna took a very deep breath. “I’m sorry because I’m struggling to keep up with this conversation.”

  “So have you read it?”

  “Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein?”

  “Who?”

  “There is a book called Frankenstein and Mary Shelley is the author of the book.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm. Any good, this book?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I want to know your answer.”

  “And this is the interview?”

  “I’m here. This is the conversation we are having before I decide whether to offer you the internship. Yes, this is the interview.” Grant responded patiently. Most people, were very stupid.

  “Not especially.” Alanna said.

  “You didn’t especially like it?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  “Is it?” Alanna asked.

  “Yes. Now tell me why.”

  “Well, all the characters were annoying.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. At least, I thought so.”

  “Was there a character like me in it?”

  Alanna snickered. It had been a long couple of weeks. But even if it hadn’t been, there was really no hope at all of holding that in.

  “Other than the fact that I’m annoying.” Grant continued, without batting an eye.

  “No.” Alanna said.

  “No, there weren’t any characters like me?”

  “I don’t know you well Grant, but offhand, I’d say there was no one remotely like you in that book.”

  “Summarize it for me.”

  “I read it when I was fourteen.” Which had not been a good year for her.

  “And?”

  “Right. A very annoying and melodramatic doctor uses the body parts of dead criminals to piece together a monster and brings the monster to life using electricity.”

  “That won’t work.” Grant pointed out.

  “No. But it’s fiction.”

  “Ah. Carry on.”

  “So the monster is very strong and acts like a child. The doctor freaks out and abandons him. Everyone else is horrified by the monster.”

  “If it’s acting like a child, why is it a monster?”

  “Dead body parts stitched together are not a good look.”

  “And if the monster looked normal, or perhaps even beautiful?”

  “Probably would have all worked out fine and the doctor would have been hailed as a genius and a visionary.” Alanna said cynically.

  “Interesting. Continue.”

  “So, the monster runs around getting rejected by everyone and gets angrier and angrier. The monster is lonely, so it goes back to the doctor who made him and demands that the doctor make him a mate so that he is not alone.”

  Grant stirred slightly, from his place in front of the fire, but otherwise remained silent.

  “The doctor makes the monster a mate, then freaks out when he realizes that he made another monster. Because she’s also made of dead body parts.” Alanna explained, foreseeing the question Grant was about to ask.

  “And then they live happily ever after?” Grant asked, bemused.

  “No. Then the doctor kills the monster’s mate, and the monster retaliates by killing the doctor’s new wife. I think the doctor dies on an iceberg somewhere and the monster goes off alone into the snow, possibly to kill another day.” Alanna looked over at Grant, surprised by the strength of his response. Grant Pardo, did not like the ending of Frankenstein.

  “That is a terrible story.” He said after a moment.

  “It’s a cautionary tale.”

  “And what is it that we should all be cautions of?”

  “Well, if you’re trying to pass the multiple choice test on the book, which at fourteen I was, it’s a cautionary tale about the dangers of playing god.”

  “And your personal perspective?”

  “The doctor should have taken better care of his creation.”

  “Ah.” Grant nodded thoughtfully. “But should the doctor have played god and attempted to bring people back from the dead?”

  Alanna studied Grant over the rim of her teacup. “Did someone compare you to the doctor?”

  “Do you think asking me questions is the way this works?”

  “I just don’t understand. You’re a physicist. What could you possibly do, that involves bringing people back from the dead?”

  “You don’t have to answer my questions if you don’t want to.” Grant said. The unstated implication of his words hung in the air between them.

  Alanna took a breath. “The good doctor had a point. We can’t stitch body parts to make a patchwork human, but we can reuse the organs of the dead to cure others. We use electricity to restart a heart that has stopped beating, to literally bring people back from the dead. The knowledge gained from these experiments saved lives.”

  “Are you telling me what I want to hear?”

  Alanna shrugged. “It’s an objective truth.”

  Once again, Grant smiled slightly.

  One step closer to sufficient, Alanna thought.

  “And who was the monster of the story?” Grant asked.

  “No one.” Alanna said immediately. “Captain Bernard Bernhard, was a monster. He would have killed the doctor, enslaved the doctor’s creation, and held the female creation hostage to ensure compliance, torturing her for fun when he got bored but ensuring that she stayed alive for as long as she was needed. That’s a monster.”

  Grant sat silently, looking into the fire.

  Alanna opened her mouth, then closed it, sensing that Grant was thinking, and may not want to be interrupted. The silence stretched on, far beyond what she would generally consider normal for a human conversation. Unsure of what to do, she continued to wait.

  “The doctor brought his creation to life.” Grant said finally, his eyes focused on the fire, his body eerily still. “Your words.” He reminded her.

  “Yes.”

  “What made him alive?”

  “Well, he was walking around killing people sooo… yeah.”

  “If I set a trap and leave it for the unwary to fall into and die, the trap will kill. But it is not alive. The ability to kill is not enough to denote life.”

  “This doesn’t feel like a geology kind of question.”

  “Nevertheless.”

  “Is this a question about Frankenstein’s monster, or about what it means to be alive?”

  “He was not a monster.” Grant said, somewhat sharply.

  “Right. Sorry. Did not mean to offend by calling the walking possibly dead person a monster. That would be rude.”

  “Yes.” Grant agreed. “It would be rude.”

  Alanna’s eyes narrowed, as she struggled once again to follow Grant’s convoluted and allegedly brilliant thinking. “Grant, do you want Frankenstein’s creation to be alive… and not a monster?”

  “Why does that matter? What I want does not change reality. What I observe does not change reality. This should all be quite obvious.”

  “Yes but telling people what they want to hear is how you ace an interview and change the reality of your unemployed status.” Alanna said, before she could think better of it. Not that she was any sort of an expert, but she got the general idea.

  “I would like to hear the objective truth.”

  Right. Alanna thought. Obviously, he would say that. “What you want is relevant.” She said after a brief pause. “Because you can change reality. We all can, those of us who are alive. Life is a word that has whatever subjective meaning we choose to assign to it. You want to say your creation is alive, say it enough times and convince enough people and it will be true.”

  “That… is a rather interesting point of view. And if I say someone is not a monster…” Grant mused.

  “Well, if the monster is running around killing people, that might be a hard sell.” Alanna pointed out.

  “You run around killing people. And then chop off their heads. Did the creation chop off any heads?”

  “Um… no, not that I recall.”

  “Any mutilation at all?”

  “No, none. I think there was some um... strangulation.”

  “Really, strangulation?”

  “Yes. And he framed someone for murder.”

  “No mutilation at all?”

  “None.”

  “As far as alleged monster go, this one seems unimpressive. Did he eat any brains?” Grant asked, sounding oddly hopeful.

  “No. That’s zombies.”

  “How many people did the creation kill?”

  “Four if you count the woman he framed for murder.”

  “Interesting. And you?”

  “I… am not answering that.”

  “I think you just did. How very fortunate, that you do not look like a monster. That would not have worked in your favor, I would imagine. The definition of what a monster is, is also somewhat subjective, isn’t it?”

  “Somewhat.” Alanna muttered.

  “As long as the creation comes out looking good, the creator should be hailed as a genius and a visionary.”

  “An absolute prodigy.” Alanna agreed.

  “You are doing the thing.” Grant said quietly.

  Alanna winced, hearing the warning in his voice. “I gave the polite answer.” She said.

  Grant nodded.

  “I said would, I said the creator would be hailed as a genius. Not should.”

  “Better.” Grant shifted slightly, stretching out one long hand to scratch Benji behind the ears. To Alanna’s surprise, Benji did not object. After one more hesitant sniff of Grant’s hand, he settled in, letting his head bump against one of Grant’s giant legs, sprawled out at an uncomfortable looking angle. Grant looked into the fire, sitting in silence. “I think you were right.” He finally said.

  “You are an absolute prodigy?”

  Grant smiled slightly. “I am, but that is irrelevant. You were right about the moral of the story.”

  “Responsibility is a bitch.” Alanna said, paraphrasing slightly.

  “Yes, that.” Grant sighed. “There is something to that.”

  “Why did you have a shit day, Grant?” Alanna asked. Her only answer was more silence. He’s just going to ignore my question, she realized. Responding was a politeness that, apparently, she was not due. They sat in silence. “Can I get you anything else?” Alanna asked finally.

  “More tea.” Grant said.

  “I’ll brew more.” She got up, going out to the garden to pick up the last of the mint before heading back in. Grant was still sitting in front of the fireplace. Benji’s head was now resting entirely on top of his leg, as he continued petting the dog. Alanna wasn’t sure he realized he was doing it.

  “Here.” She offered him a full cup. “You look a little green, by the way.”

  Grant started, looking down at his hands. “I’m not green.” He said, a distinct note of defensiveness in his voice.

  What in the actual fuck? Alanna thought for the hundredth time. “I didn’t mean literally. I just meant, well, you don’t look well. Are you sure there isn’t something else I can get you? I absolve you of all social obligations. I promise.”

  “It doesn’t work that way.”

  “Do you want anything else or not?”

  “Is it normal to want to kill someone for breaking up with you?”

  “Um.” Alanna paused. “Yes. Very normal.”

  “Ah. Is it really?”

  “Yes.”

  “But actually doing it…”

  “That would be wrong.” Alanna said helpfully. “And not at all normal.”

  “Ah. Yes.”

  “How long were you together?”

  “About twelve years.”

  Alanna’s jaw dropped. “Oh.” She said. “Oh. Here, I’ll get you ice cream.”

  “Why?”

  “Just trust me on this one.”

  Grant looked down blankly as she handed him a sizeable box of chocolate ice cream.

  “Isn’t this supposed to go in some sort of a bowl?” He asked.

  “Right. But based on your size and the length of time you’ve been together, you get the whole box.”

  Grant frowned, staring down at the box. “There’s a formula?” He asked.

  “Yes.” Alanna said without hesitation. “There is.”

  “Ah.” Grant started eating the ice cream. “And why is it ice cream, specifically?”

  “Breakups can lead to constrained resources. The high calorie count reassures the body that survival is possible.”

  “Right.” Grant nodded, and took another bite. “You made all this up.” He said.

  “Yes.”

  “Just now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm. It might be true. About the calories and the resources.”

  “Possibly.” Alanna agreed. “Do you… do you want to talk about why you broke up?”

  “Why would I want to do that?”

  “Well.” Alanna paused. Generally, people did. Grant, was not really people. She didn’t know what the hell Grant was. But not people. “Sometimes, breakups can be reversed.” She finally said. “But rarely.” Honesty compelled her to add.

  “Really?” Grant cocked his head, appearing somewhat interested. “How?”

  “Well, can you tell me why you broke up?”

  “He broke up with me.”

  “Did he say why?”

  Grant sat quietly, until Alanna started to wonder if he would simply not answer her at all, and potentially sit in front of the fireplace in silence, until morning. Or possibly longer? She was beyond being at a loss as to what the hell to do with Grant Pardo. So, she waited.

  “He said I was emotionally distant.” Grant said.

  Alanna started. It had been at least ten minutes since he had last spoken. “Do you think you’re emotionally distant?” She asked, out of genuine fascination.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, do you think you could be, you know, less emotionally distant?”

  “No.”

  It was Alanna’s turn to sit quietly.

  “You said there would be options.” Grant reminded her.

  That wasn’t quite what I said, Alanna thought. “You could lie.” She offered. “And tell him you will be less emotionally distant.”

  “Would that work?” Grant asked, seeming genuinely interested.

  “Probably not a long term solution, but it may be a short term fix.”

  “I don’t lie.”

  “Right.” Alanna nodded. “I see that.” And she did. “Maybe you don’t have to lie. Maybe you could just seem more emotionally available? Offer to spend more time together. Do you live together?”

  “No.”

  “You’ve been together for twelve years.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you actually want to get back together with this person?” Alanna asked, trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice.

  “Yes.”

  “But you don’t want to be with him.”

  “I want to be with him some.”

  “Enough to act less emotionally distant?” Alanna asked pointedly. This wasn’t exactly rocket science, let alone physics. She suspected Grant knew perfectly well what he needed to do.

  “I have to go.” Grant said, standing up abruptly. “And I will think about it.” He added.

  “What?” Alanna asked, once again struggling to follow his train of thought.

  “The internship. I will think about it.”

  “I’m…” Alanna tried to gather her thoughts at the completely unexpected turn. She was supposed to say something compelling, but not polite. Now. Now would be good. “I’m a really good geologist.” She hesitated. “I was the foremost geologist on Titan.” She blurted out.

  Grant paused, turning around to face her once again. “You were the only geologist on Titan.” He said. It was an observation rather than a question.

  “Um. Yes.”

  “I will think about it.” Grant repeated before turning to walk back towards the elevator.

  “Do not judge me.” Alanna said, glaring at Benji as they walked into the empty garden. “I did fine, all things considered. They’re not usually smarter than I am.” She added.

  Benji sat and stared at the closed elevator doors, panting somewhat nervously. The giant who smelled funny scared him.