*Click*
“I’m done, sarge.”
“Christ, don’t do anything stupid Cap.”
“I’m not suicidal, you dumb ass. I’m putting in for internment.”
“Cap… that’s what they want. You know that don’t you? That’s why the red tape is so thick.”
“I know. But even knowing, it still works. You tell me sarge, are you happy? Happy with grunt work? With the ‘proven capacity for violence makes this man unsafe for jobs in a social environment’ label?”
“You know I’m not.”
“And neither am I. It's time to take the out. It may be what they want, but at least it can be a life worth living.”
“A short life.” The muttered reply was barely audible. “Did you consider immigration? They don’t have 9V designations on frontier planets.”
“I’m not ready to buy a farm, sarge. You’re also out of touch. You won’t lose 10 years, but gain 20.”
“Sounds like snake oil, sir. No way they waste longevity meds on the likes of us.”
“They don’t have to. The pod will give you a perfect diet of nutrient paste and exactly as much exercise as your body needs. Without boredom or taste buds getting in the way.”
“That… well that might work, but it’s probably still snake oil.”
“Maybe. But what isn’t snake oil is the time dilation. It's up to 4 to 1. With that, even if the life expectancy doesn’t pay off… well you get the idea.”
“That.. that ain’t so bad. You really pushing for this, Cap? Seems a might permanent if you’re wrong.”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Not like you or I have anything here to hold on to.”
“…”
“Sorry sarge, that was unkind.”
A soft sigh rang in the receiver. “But not wrong, sir. I’m in. Who else?”
“Called you first, but hopefully Collins, Hawthorn, McGuile and Hanson.”
“Huh, getting the old crew back together.”
“The ones still here.”
Silence lingered for half a minute.
“You have a plan?”
“Remember that younger brother of mine? Blake?”
“Met him at a BBQ once, I think.”
“He’s where I got the info. He worked on the newer pods. Knows how they work, what to ask for and how to game the system.”
“He gonna give us the cheat codes?”
“Hell no. This is our life, if it was easy, we’d hate it.”
“Ha. Well, you might be right.”
“I am. It’s going to be feudal. Swords and light sorcery. Army battles, tactics, exploration and adventure.”
“… Sounds a bit nerdy, sir.”
“You’re not wrong, sarge. But when you ask for a favor…”
“I hear that. When?”
“Three weeks. Get your affairs in order, fill out the forms I emailed you, and follow the attached schedule and instructions.”
“More red tape Cap?”
“The last of it, god willing.”
“Amen to that.”
*Click*
___
*Click*
“Hello, this is the Hansen residence.”
“Yes, Is Emily in?”
“I’m sorry Captain, she passed on.”
“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that, James. I didn’t know.”
“No reason you should, I just came back from the funeral and you knew how private she was.”
“Yes. I guess I did.”
“I don’t think she ever said it, but thank you. For bringing her home. We spent 5 good years together. Years we wouldn’t have had if it weren’t for you.”
“…I can’t say as it helps. Not now.”
“No sir, it doesn’t. But give it time, they say. I’m still waiting.”
*Click*
___
*Click*
“Yes?”
“Huh, they let you out, McGuile?”
“With the greatest respect, Fuck you sir.”
“Ha. Next time don’t videotape it dumbass.”
“Christ. I already got an ankle bracelet, I don’t need you on my back too, sir.”
“How would you like to remove it.”
“…Not funny sir. You don’t have that kind of pull.”
“Not pull. Internment. The voluntary kind.”
“You gone space cadet, sir?”
“No McGuile, you’ve heard about pod worlds?”
“Imagination land with a side of exile?”
“Yes. Anything here you’re going to miss?”
“Not really.”
“Check your email, fill out the forms and follow the instructions. kicks off is in three weeks.”
“I’ll be there, sir.”
*Click*
___
*Click*
“Hello, this is -
___
