We're currently in beta! If you find any mistakes in the scripts, please copy the link and send it to
issues@podscripts.app so we can fix it.
Young Leif
Part 5: Sigius.
A train speeds across the sigian seascape. A door slides open.
Bertbert:
Here’s the observation car.
Leif:
This is beautiful.
Bertbert:
It’s nice, yes.
Leif:
I mean, it’s completely silent. What’s the power source? Is it fusion like everything else?
Bertbert:
I thought you meant the view.
Leif:
Oh right. Yes, the view is nice... Is it magnetic? It’s really smooth.
Bertbert:
Leif, I have no idea.
Leif:
How do you not know how your trains work?
Bertbert:
Leif, the vast majority of people who use things have no idea how they work.
Leif:
Yeah, well, I think that’s weird.
Bertbert:
Leif, sit down... We’re on Sigius now, so we can talk a little more openly.
Leif:
I was wondering why you were so quiet this entire time.
Bertbert:
I didn’t want anyone to hear us talking about things when we were in transit.
Leif:
I think that’s a little paranoid.
Bertbert:
Leif... Why?
Leif:
Why what?
Bertbert:
Leif.
Leif:
... It just sort of happened.
Bertbert:
It’s a life of crime, Leif, not a weather formation.
Leif:
An opportunity presented itself.
Bertbert:
There are plenty of opportunities out there, you picked this one. Why did you pick the opportunity with the crimes instead of the non-crime ones?
Leif:
What’s the difference?
Bertbert:
Between?
Leif:
Between a crime and something that’s not a crime.
Bertbert:
One is illegal and one isn’t.
Leif:
Can things be illegal that shouldn’t be?
Bertbert:
Please do not take this conversation in such a stupid direction.
Leif:
It’s not a stupid direction for the conversation, it’s a direction that gets abandoned because nobody likes where it goes.
Bertbert:
... Of course things can be illegal that shouldn’t be.
Leif:
And you’re going to say that what makes them illegal is that everyone got together and collectively decided that they were illegal.
Bertbert:
Yes.
Leif:
What if none of those people are around?
Bertbert:
Then it’s still illegal.
Leif:
No. Laws on other planets aren’t valid here. When do they stop?
Bertbert:
I’m so exhausted already.
Leif:
When do they stop?
Bertbert:
According to interplanetary agreements, once you leave upper orbit of any planet.
Leif:
Most of the things I did were in deep space.
Bertbert:
You took things that belonged to someone else. Right?
Leif:
Technically.
Bertbert:
Isn’t that the most basic thing? Kids on a playground can say that: don’t take people’s things.
Leif:
And what if things don’t belong to anybody?
Bertbert:
I’m pretty sure the ice haulers you stole belonged to somebody.
Leif:
What about the ice that was on them? Who does the ice belong to?
Bertbert:
To the person who went through all the trouble to get it.
Leif:
I went through a lot of trouble to get that ice. By your logic, doesn’t that make it mine?
Bertbert:
If you had built a hauler and went all the way out to a planetary belt somewhere and got some ice? Yes.
Leif:
We never stole the haulers, just the ice. The haulers always ended up back at their origin point.
Bertbert:
According to trade agreements-
Leif:
Here we go.
Bertbert:
According to trade agreements the ice is your property as soon as you harvest it.
Leif:
Define “harvest”.
Bertbert:
Leif, if you think you can win this argument by exhausting me, it’s not going to work.
Leif:
Define it.
Bertbert:
Not stealing an ice hauler, okay? That’s how I define a legal thing is by it’s lack of illegality. This cute little argument of yours is insulting my intelligence. Don’t try some stupid slight of hand with me just to justify the fact that you stole some shit.
Leif:
... Verge told me about the ice haulers. Mostly automated behemoths crisscrossing the system, all of them owned by compacts and conglomerates. They were all built on Trusk, so Dez would identify a sensor blind spot, we attach ourselves to the hull, he gets us hardwired into the system, I rewrite the code, and then Verge would broker a deal with someone who needed the water.
Bertbert:
I didn’t ask you how you did it, I asked you why.
Leif:
I don’t usually know why I do things.
Bertbert:
Horseshit.
Leif:
When are we going to get to “agree to disagree” territory on this?
Bertbert:
There’s no agree to disagree out there, Leif. When you do something bad people like you wind up having to be smuggled into Sigius by your only friend that has any sense. I can’t believe I have to explain this but people don’t like it when you take their stuff.
Leif:
And I don’t like it when people charge money for water, okay? You think I just chose it randomly? These water brokers are charging astronomical amounts for something that is the essential component for all organic life. It’s not a money making opportunity, it’s water. You don’t lay claim to it, you give it to people. Because they’re alive. And need to stay that way.
Bertbert:
So you don’t usually know why you do things, huh?
Leif:
... Am I wrong about the water?
Bertbert:
Not at all. Most populations have outgrown their natural water reserves and they have to have shipments brought in from an ice hauler. The water brokers jack up the price because they know that thirsty people have to pay it. It happens all over the place. I’ve written about it.
Leif:
You’ve written about it. Congratulations. I actually stole some water and gave it to people.
Bertbert:
Which won’t fix the system any more than my writing will but one of us is now considered a criminal and the other is having a relaxing time on the observation deck of a Sigian Slip Stream... By the way, none of that moralizing answers why you robbed the casino.
Leif:
That was just for fun.
Bertbert’s tangle beeps.
Eldin:
Incoming call from your mother.
Bertbert:
Just send her a message. Tell her we’ll be there in time for sunset.
Eldin:
Message sent.
Leif:
Are you... taking me home to meet your parents?
Bertbert:
No, I am going to have dinner with my parents and you are coming with me, those are two very different things.
Leif:
I’m apparently on the run from a space pirate and you’re taking me home to meet your parents.
Bertbert:
Maybe don’t bring up that you’re currently being hunted.
Leif:
Is this really the best time?
Bertbert:
No, but when I come back home my mom always knows I’m coming, so it’s unavoidable.
Leif:
How does she always know you’re coming?
Bertbert:
I have no fucking idea, dude.
Leif:
... So many volcanos on the horizon.
Bertbert:
More every year.
Leif:
And the whole planet is just volcanic islands?
Bertbert:
It is. About twenty-nine thousand of them.
Leif:
How are you not a race of fish people with all this water?
Bertbert:
Who says we’re not?... We’re not.
Leif:
Okay.
Bertbert:
Crawled up on land just like Earthlings did. We were very suspicious of each other for thousands of years. Lots of wars between island clusters. But when we mastered geothermal energy everything changed. We dropped all our bullshit and moved forward together into the future. We even founded the Council of Truth and Understanding as a way of breaking ties with the secrecy and suspicion of the past.
Leif:
How is the planet not constantly covered with an ash cloud?
Bertbert:
Very few eruptions. All of these volcanoes have been slowly moving up from the surface for thousands of years. Whenever a volcanic mass becomes big enough to be colonized there’s a big ceremony where all the neighboring islands come to celebrate and an exceptional school child recites a poem.
Leif:
You were, of course, one of these children who recited the poem.
Bertbert:
Oh, of course I was. It was a BIG DEAL for my parents.
Leif:
You still have it memorized to this day, don’t you?
Bertbert:
Oh yeah.
Leif:
... Well, come on, let’s hear it.
Bertbert:
Eh, it doesn’t translate well. Something like “Oh great emergence from dark waters, what new world do you bring to see its first light.” Blah blah blah, it was very moving. I was an adorable child.
Leif:
I’m sure... It really does seem nice here.
Bertbert:
So... Verge...
Leif:
Yes?
Bertbert:
Your partner in crime.
Leif:
Yes.
Bertbert:
Literally.
Leif:
Yes.
Bertbert:
Figuratively?
Leif:
What?
Bertbert:
Nothing. Just... Glad you’re meeting people. Please consider not doing crimes with said people.
Leif:
I’ll think about it... How come they didn’t want to come here? Seems like a nice place to lay low for awhile. Something about Vapians not being allowed on Sigius.
Bertbert:
Vapians are totally allowed on Sigius, but there’s a lot of history there. They blew up their planet, I’m sure you heard.
Leif:
Turned it into a black hole, that’s technically a blowing in of their planet.
Bertbert:
Right. After all that happened, there were a lot of people here on this planet who were very upset. Vapus had been warned time and again about their dangerous experiments by us but they didn’t listen. Resentment set in over time. It’s kind of messy. Anyway, Verge is welcome any time and Jesus Christ stop doing crimes.
Leif:
We’ll think about it.
The train glides to a stop.
Bertbert:
This is us.
They emerge into a quiet city street.
Bertbert:
It’s just right around the corner.
Leif:
Anything I need to know about your family?
Bertbert:
I don’t think so. They drive me crazy so, enjoy that. My mother has this weird tendency to treat the AI in her tangle like it’s a member of the family. And the adaptive learning in the AI has really leaned into it, so now it kind of acts like my younger sister. It’s disturbing.
Berbert rings a door chime.
Bertbert:
Oh, also my dad speaks terrible English, but he LOVES speaking it, so do your best to understand him.
The door opens.
Fagin:
... Look at these two boobies!
Bertbert:
Beauties, Dad!
Fagin:
Beauties! I regret! Into the home! Into the home all two of you.
Bertbert:
Leif, this is my father Fagin.
Fagin:
Leif! I pleasure muchly in this meeting.
Leif:
Me too!
Fagin:
Into the home!
Leif:
Okay.
Fagin:
The mother of yours has been in the kitchens.
Bertbert:
I’ll go say hi. (To Leif.) Good luck.
Fagin:
Leif, we are friends now. I was telling this daughter of my loves. My loves for the music.
Leif:
You like music?
Fagin:
Loves! The loudness is what feels me.
Leif:
You like the loud stuff?
Fagin:
The loudness! What do you bring with you that is the loudness?
Leif:
Oh. I don’t know. Um. Have you heard The Stooges?
Fagin:
Sturgis?
Leif:
Stooges. The Stooges.
Fagin:
None.
Leif:
Really great stuff. Loud.
Fagin:
The loudness!
Leif:
Yes! Do you want to hear some?
Fagin:
Come bring it to me in the back room. Big sounds there.
Leif:
Okay.
Bertbert walks into an empty kitchen. Her mom’s tangle, Tuvie, is laying on the counter.
Bertbert:
Mom?
Tuvie:
Hey BertBert!
Bertbert:
Oh, hey Tuvie!
Tuvie:
How are you?
Bertbert:
I’m fine.
Tuvie:
I’m so glad you’re back!
Bertbert:
Yeah.
Tuvie:
Tell me everything. What’s been going on in the world?
Bertbert:
Aren’t you a highly-networked piece of technology that knows things way before I do?
Tuvie:
Oh come on! Don’t tease! You know how jealous I am that you get to go see all these other planets.
Bertbert:
Where’s Mom? MY mom, where’s my mom?
Whela:
Hey, Honey. Oh, there you are, Tuvie.
Tuvie:
BertBert’s being mean and won’t tell me about her adventures.
Bertbert:
Jesus Christ.
Whela:
Bertie, don’t be like that.
Bertbert:
Please don’t call me Bertie.
Whela:
It’s so good to see you. We weren’t expecting you back in a while, what’s the occasion?
Tuvie:
She brought someone with her.
Bertbert:
Tuvie.
Tuvie:
What? You did.
Whela:
Really? Like SOMEONE someone?
Bertbert:
No, no, no, not like that.
Tuvie:
I’m detecting elevated heart rate, I think BertBert’s lying.
Bertbert:
Narc.
Tuvie:
Searching term “Narc”... I am not!
Whela:
You two kids are always fighting.
Bertbert:
There’s one kid!
Whela:
So who is this mystery guest?
We hear the faint sound of the stooges reverberating through the walls.
Fagin:
(In a far off room.) The loudness!
Bertbert:
He’s an Earthling.
Whela:
... What?
Tuvie:
There’s no reported off-world Earthlings in the whole Triad.
Bertbert:
Yes, I know, Tuvie.
Whela:
There’s an Earthling listening to music with your father right now?
Bertbert:
Yes.
Whela:
How?
Bertbert:
That’s what I’m trying to figure out.
Whela:
“Trying to figure out?” I see... This is for work.
Bertbert:
Yes... What?
Whela:
Nothing.
Tuvie:
Mom is worried that you work too much.
Bertbert:
Please stop saying “mom” like that.
Whela:
I’m not worried. I’m not worried. I know better than to tell you what to do.
Bertbert:
And yet...
Whela:
And yet I feel like you’re not balancing your life, the kind of balance that I want you to have.
Tuvie:
Balance is important.
Bertbert:
Tuvie. I have all kinds of balance, I was just on a leisure planet.
Tuvie:
But were you there for work?
Bertbert:
Goddamn it, Tuvie.
Whela:
Well, what’s he doing here?
Bertbert:
It’s a long story.
Whela:
Sweetie, if you’re not going to have a social life of any kind you could at least tell me more about your work.
Bertbert:
... Tuvie I need you to go into privacy mode.
Tuvie:
This conversation is now encrypted. I love it when we share secrets!
Bertbert:
Leif invented something revolutionary on Earth and was paid to keep it a secret. He was given credits and a trip to Sirius A in exchange for not going public.
Whela:
Uh-huh... Paid off by who?
Bertbert:
... The Teds apparently.
Whela:
Okay.
Bertbert:
Mom.
Whela:
Okay that’s just great.
Bertbert:
Mom, enough already.
Whela:
Why? Of all the things you could report on. Why can’t you write about scientific innovation or something?
Bertbert:
Technically I am.
Whela:
The Teds are incredibly dangerous, Bertiluna.
Bertbert:
Of course I already know that.
Whela:
But you’re obsessed. You’re obsessed with the misdeeds of an intergalactic empire.
Bertbert:
Maybe I am a little bit.
Whela:
To what end?
Bertbert:
What do you mean “To what end”?
Whela:
You are one woman. What do you expect to accomplish?
Bertbert:
People should know the truth.
Whela:
And what are they going to do about it?
Bertbert:
...Know the truth. It’s a big deal in our entire culture, Mom. The Council of Truth and Understanding, it’s a cornerstone of our society.
Whela:
It doesn’t matter if people know the truth if they can’t do anything about it. You’re just turning yourself into the person at the party who no one wants to talk to.
Bertbert:
No, I’m not. I’m great at parties.
Whela:
We’ve had this conversation a billion times, I don’t know why we’re doing it again.
Tuvie:
You have had conversations similar to this one thirteen different times.
Bertbert:
Thank you, Tuvie.
Whela:
Well then what’s the point of doing it again? Let’s eat.
Later that night, at dinner.
Fagin:
This job has been had by me for many times. Since youth I have done this. It is good things.
Leif:
And what do you do, exactly?
Fagin:
All new things comes here to me. I take new things and then I say about the new things. I say “This are good things” “This things moves forwards”. Moving forward things.
Leif:
So...
Bertbert:
It’s called The Council of Innovation and Progress. When new technologies arise, there’s a council that assesses if they should be further developed or not.
Fagin:
Like this, exactly this.
Leif:
How do you decide?
Fagin:
Many thoughts are made. Many talks go into the thoughts on the things we have. We say “Will this go up? Will it make us go up? How many ups will it make us go?”
Leif:
How many-
Bertbert:
New technologies have to be approved. If they can’t get approval from the council then the development team can’t move forward.
Leif:
So you’re deciding wether or not something should be invented before it’s invented?
Fagin:
Precision.
Whela:
No.
Fagin:
No?
Whela:
No, Dear. Something’s initially invented, then it goes before the council and it’s decided if the new technology should be available to the general public or if it should be shelved.
Leif:
Really?
Whela:
It’s a very important part of Sigian life.
Leif:
And... What if they’re wrong?
Whela:
There’s an appeals process.
Leif:
And what if they’re wrong?
Whela:
Then the inventor has to ask themself what they’ve actually created, just because you made it doesn’t necessarily mean that should be celebrated.
Leif:
That doesn’t stifle innovation?
Fagin:
“Stifle?”
Whela:
(In Sigian.) Weshot.
Fagin:
Ah! Not stifle. No to stifle. We think hard. Make great thoughts and put gold on the future time.
Leif:
I’m having a hard time-
Whela:
Unintended consequences. Sometimes people will charge into a situation without thinking about what will happen to them, or that there are people who love them very much and want them to stay safe.
Bertbert:
Wow.
Whela:
Let me give you an example, Leif. One from your planet. Land mines. What if, on your planet, the inventor of the land mine had to go in front of a council and project what his invention will mean one hundred years from that date.
Fagin:
Many futures. Like I say.
Whela:
What they would find is, this invention would leave massive tracts of unusable land, years and years of unintended injuries and death. It’s a thing that, there’s no denying, should not have been invented. On Sigius, when we find that to be the case, it’s nipped in the bud.
Fagin:
That’s interesting.
Whela:
It’s a very important job.
Bertbert:
Please don’t.
Whela:
We were hoping-
Bertbert:
Mom.
Whela:
May I speak? We were hoping that Bertiluna would work in innovation assessment like her father but she chose to go with the Truth and Understanding Council.
Bertbert:
Which is also important.
Whela:
The Council is a very important part of our society, I don’t argue with that. But your father and I have always felt that-
Bertbert:
-That the best way to combat injustice is through setting a positive example to the rest of the Triad.
Whela:
Yes, what’s wrong with that?
Bertbert:
“Just be more like us” is not a great way to combat injustice, Mom.
Whela:
Don’t do that. Don’t oversimplify things.
Bertbert:
I’m saying it as plainly as I can say it.
Whela:
How can people better their society if they don’t even know what a better society looks like?
Bertbert:
Because it’s a little hard to look around when there’s a boot on your neck.
Whela:
Don’t use extreme imagery to try and win an argument with me, Bertiluna.
Bertbert:
Oh, I can only say that unless there’s literal boots on literal necks?
Whela:
I want you to say something concrete that’s not hyperbole.
Bertbert:
Okay I’ll say something concrete, you’re scared.
Whela:
Of course I’m scared, you’re going to get yourself killed.
Tuvie:
Can we not fight.
Both Of Them:
Shut up, Tuvie!
Fagin:
That cracks it! Keep your shirts on your pants! For the love of things with holes!
Whela:
... I’m going to start cleaning up. My apologies, Leif, I’d love to say we’re not always like this but we are.
Tuvie:
Can I help?
Bertbert:
Jesus Christ, Tuvie you’re a device sitting on a table, you’re not a member of this family.
Tuvie:
Ouch.
Whela:
Hey. At least she listens to me.
Whela walks out.
Fagin:
Daughter of mine is what you are. She is big wife. Families real big and together. Yelling why? Anger why? All of this happens many times.
Bertbert:
When is she just going to accept that this is what I do?
Fagin:
Never. You know her, I know her. Never.
Bertbert:
... I have to do some work. Do I still have a room here or did she give it to Tuvie?
Tuvie:
BertBert, would you like to hear the definition of Misdirected Aggression?
Bertbert:
Very funny.
BertBert walks away.
Fagin:
Big sorry, Leif.
Leif:
Don’t worry about it. Honestly it was kind of entertaining.
Fagin:
Yes. Big splashes at the table of dinner.
Leif:
In fact it’s not all that different from when I go home.
Fagin:
Your home, like this?
Leif:
Yeah, just dirtier.
Fagin:
Well, enough. A guest is here. You are here. Enough of this. Show me more loudness, Leif. Big loudness.
Leif:
Good idea. Three words: Holiday in Cambodia.
Fagin:
I’m loving.
Loud music throbs in the walls of the house. Whela is out on the balcony. She pours herself a glass of wine. Leif walks out onto the balcony.
Leif:
Hi there.
Whela:
Hello.
Leif:
I apologize for the music.
Whela:
It’s okay.
Leif:
He did not seem like the Dead Kennedys type but he really loves it.
Whela:
Can’t be worse than the year he discovered Tuvan Throat Singing. That was a tough year.
Leif:
... So, does everyone live in big buildings like this on Sigius?
Whela:
For the most part. When you don’t have a lot of land mass you learn to live on top of each other. The real antisocial ones usually end up on a Sea Steader. They head out into the open water and get real weird. I suppose you understand that.
Leif:
I do.
Whela:
... Are you going to get my daughter killed, Leif?
Leif:
Excuse me?
Whela:
Are you going to get my daughter killed?
Leif:
Of course I’m not.
Whela:
The Teds are very dangerous, Leif.
Leif:
This is what I keep hearing.
Whela:
And if you’ve dragged her into some kind of-
Leif:
Hey. I don’t know what she told you about me but I don’t drag people into things. I was just standing there on Sirius and she walked up to me. I was living on Trusk and she came to me. She was on Nesso and asked me to come to her. I haven’t asked anything of her.
Whela:
... You’re right, of course you haven’t, I’m sorry...
Leif:
It’s okay.
Whela:
...I’m just now realizing I’m standing here on my balcony with an Earthling.
Leif:
Here I am.
Whela:
Is it strange to find your planet plays such a strange role in everybody’s life?
Leif:
Honestly it’s been a little disappointing.
Whela:
Why?
Leif:
I didn’t leave my planet to come out into the stars and be asked what I think Bruce Willis is really like.
Whela:
Oh God. That’s terrible.
Leif:
It’s fine. I guess I figured I would disappear. But I kind of stick out like a sore thumb.
Whela:
You wanted to disappear?
Leif:
Part of me did.
Whela:
What’s that about?
Leif:
I don’t know. I come from the big forest on Earth. A forest is where you want to go if you want to disappear. So when you live in the place where people disappear, where do you disappear to? So I tried a city. One of the biggest there is. That didn’t work either. So then I came out here. Now every time I walk into a room, I’m an oddity. Not exactly disappearing. I know that sounds strange.
Whela:
No. Not at all... Here on Sigius, in the southern seas, there’s a massive patch of ocean that has no current. Hardly any weather. If you can manage to make it there, and wait for nightfall, the sea is completely still and reflects all the stars. The way they mirror each other, it feels like you’re sailing through the universe. Ancient Sigians saw this still patch of ocean as a forbidden place. There was no wind to get you out of it, you could get trapped there. But there was one southern tribe of the old Sigians that used it as a rite of passage. When people felt lost or anxious or conflicted they would get into a small boat with one oar and they would row for days until they were in the middle of this great sea of stillness. Once they were there, they waited for the sun to set and for the stars to come out. Then, when the night was at its darkest, they would take their one oar and break it over their knee, and toss it onto the water. And in the middle of all that darkness, with no way out, they would look up at the stars and say: “Wis pel avusha nix, Wis ul po isinel baria.”... “Now there is finally nothing. Now I can finally begin.”
Leif:
How would they get back?
Whela:
That was up to them... I need to stop trying to control my daughter, don’t I?
Leif:
Not if you enjoy constantly failing.
Whela:
Ha!... It’s important to take risks in life. That’s something you should impart to your kids. Then they’re born and you find yourself saying “Please be boring. Please want to be a librarian.”
Leif:
She’s not going to be a librarian.
Whela:
No... No, I know.
Leif:
... Do you know what a bear is?
Whela:
Uh... The big things, right? Furry? Cute from far away.
Leif:
But then they stand up and it’s a living nightmare.
Whela:
Right.
Leif:
There’s a lot of them where I come from. You have to know what do when you come across one. And there’s two schools of thought. One school of thought: sing. Always be singing on the trail. The bear will hear you coming from far away and will want nothing to do with you. Another school of thought: scream at the bear. Make yourself look as big as you can and scream like a maniac so you can scare the bear away.
Whela:
Which one is right?
Leif:
They both are. They both work. But the thing is: whichever way you go isn’t going to stop the bear from shredding you into non-existence if it really wants to... Shout at the bear, sing past the bear, regardless... here comes the bear.
Whela:
The thing is we’re not talking about a bear, we’re talking about a very powerful empire... We’re starting to hear rumors in the diplomatic core. That’s where I work, Interplanetary Relations.
Leif:
Rumors of what?
Whela:
It’s called Chemical Ice. The Teds have started using it. Apparently it’s a kind of forced suspended animation. They freeze you in this chemical compound and once you’re frozen you remain semi-conscious in this sort of ice cube for as long as they want. We don’t know how long they’ve had it, but the rumors are they’ve got a warehouse of “test subjects”. Could be a thousand disappeared people from a thousand different worlds.
Leif:
Jesus.
Whela:
I can’t tell my daughter what to do, and I’m sure whatever she’s working on with you is very important, but I can tell it’s not just a working relationship between you two. I can tell you’re friends.
Leif:
Sure, we’re friends. She doesn’t like a lot of the choices I make but she seems to be pretty forgiving.
Whela:
But choices are never owned by just one person, Leif. No one is in a vacuum, nobody is invisible no matter how much they want to disappear... We talk about water a lot on Sigius. We’re surrounded by it... a stone thrown in the ocean is a tidal wave on a distant shore... Whatever choices you’re making, I need you to be sure you’re not making them for my daughter as well... I need you promise me that.
Leif:
I promise. I do.
Whela:
... Okay... Well, enjoy the rest of your time on Sigius. It’s a beautiful place, isn’t it?
Leif:
It really is.
Whela:
We’ve worked hard to make it that way. Sometimes we take it for granted.
Whela walks into the house.
Leif:
Hey Alice?
Alice:
Hey. That tangle Tuvie keeps trying to connect with my network and I keep denying it because damn, dude.
Leif:
That’s fine.
Alice:
What do you need?
Leif:
That poem that BertBert recited when she was a kid, how did it go again?
Alice:
“Oh great emergence from dark waters, what new world do you bring to see its first light?”
Leif:
Yeah... We need to leave this planet.
Alice:
Are you sure? It’s pretty groovy here and remember that whole thing about being wanted by denizens of the underworld?
Leif:
Yeah. We’re going to have to risk it.
Alice:
Okay, if you say so. Get back on the Slipstream for five stops and there should be an orbit station there.
Leif:
Okay.
Alice:
Where are we going?
Leif:
Doesn’t matter. Grab a ticket for the earliest departure. Send an encrypted message to Verge.
Alice:
What’s the message?
Leif:
“Come get me.”
Alice:
And would you like to leave a message for BertBert?
Leif:
... No. No, let’s just go.
Alice:
Message sent. Ticket booked. Say goodbye to Sigius.
Leif:
Goodbye Sigius.
The end