Young Writers Society

It took Focci and Tejal ten minutes to burst into the bathroom, and when they did, they slammed the door hard against the cement wall and sent Ellipse’s head into another fit of reeling. Groaning, she clutched her head and sent the boys a dirty look.

“Unnecessary,” she grumbled. Then she tried to lay down on the floor and sleep. Helping Soph had used up too many brain cells.

“Don’t sleep on the floor, Ellipse,” Tejal chided. “It’s nasty.”

Okay, but not sleeping seemed nastier, so Tejal could just jump into the sun. Curling her nose in disgust, Ellipse pillowed her head with her arms and ignored how her hair spilled onto the floor.

“Gross,” Focci sang, holding out the last note for emphasis.

Ellipse clucked her tongue and eased back up, purposefully pinning down Focci’s tail with one hand. “Fine, fine. You need me to translate, anyway, right?” She let Focci go and tried not to flinch when he smacked her, and fumbled for her lightbox. When she had it firmly in her grasp, she turned to Soph and offered an uncertain smile. “It is just these two. Go ahead, and I will try to keep up.”

Rather than keep up, Ellipse guessed she would wind up with a headache ten times worse than what she already had and a half-finished story she would forget before she could translate it all, but she had only said she would try, not that she would succeed. She placed herself against the wall and watched as Soph’s lights began to flash.

“Spec Corp started on the miniature fold generator several years ago, when it became apparent that the servers and databases on the fold monitors were unable to store all the messages, media and coding that came in. I was in university at the time, but I heard about all the big-name engineers being hired for the project. Ami, the subject matter expert, was already impossibly famous for their work on the matter ID code.”

Ellipse sent the boys a questioning look, hoping one of them would explain what the matter ID code did, but Tejal just made a rolling motion with his fist and urged her to keep going.

“Nov was our head engineer, chosen because they were the specifus behind the new life-search fold generator. The two had teamed up before, of course, but not for a long time. In the months following the project announcement, the miniature generator was all anyone talked about, and everyone wanted to be picked for the research team. I graduated right as applications opened up, but I wasn’t an engineering or physics major, so I wasn’t looking to join the team.”

Focci thumped his tail on the ground and wrinkled his snout. “If Soph is not in science, what do they do?”

“I am getting there,” Ellipse sang. Then she switched to English, just to be irritating.

Soph carried on with the tale, unaffected and unable to hear the side conversation. “Spec Corp hired me as one of the secretaries for this new research team. I rose up to communications specialist rather quickly, though I suspect it was more due to nepotism than anything else. We red specifus are memorable, after all. Once Nov and Ami finished interviewing staff for the official Impending crew, I was the first to be notified that I would be travelling.”

Slumping in his chair, Tejal let out a yawn. “When will they get to the science?”

Ellipse switched back to siren. Right after sticking her tongue out at Tejal.

“We spent almost a year preparing for the journey. The Impending was large, but mostly full of water and the experimental fold generators, and we had to cut a number of crew members in order to maximize efficiency with our resources. I was only kept because someone had to be able to code and send data packages throughout the trip, and no other jobs would have enough downtime to take care of it all. During the journey out to the experiment location, I sent constant updates back to the servers on the Tubai monitor, and when we began conducting trials, I sent even more.

“When we began the intersecting fold tests, I was put onto the shuttle, to help make sure that communication between the shuttle and the Impending was properly encrypted. It was only going to be for the first trial, but…” Soph’s lights faded, and then flashed all at once in a brief, harsh laugh. “I suppose that was enough to keep me alive. When the generators shorted out, they stranded the shuttle out on the other side of the system, a safe distance from the explosion. I had no idea what had happened, but a few minutes later, Max pointed out that the light from the explosion had finally reached us.”

Tejal shifted restlessly in his seat, and Focci’s gills starting twitching. The boys had questions, probably.

“I was about to send an SOS signal when Ami stopped me,” Soph continued. “I don’t know if they were tired of Spec Corp taking credit for so much of their work, or if they truly disliked the corporation’s practices, but Ami wanted Spec Corp to think we were dead. The Botanical picked us up in secret a few days later, and I’ve been in hiding ever since.”

As Ellipse finished up in both languages, she sighed and gave the boys hard stares. “I assume you have questions?”

Focci and Tejal nodded vigorously, their eyes bulging in frustration.

“This is between us,” Soph flashed, vines curling away from the boys, “but I would like to compare notes on breaking contracts. I want to go home, and I will have to win a few legal battles to do it.”

Ellipse scratched her head. She was not the expert there; all she had done was take advantage of the Independent Titan situation, and she at least had international law on her side. The universe had no standards of workplace practice yet. “My contact at the safe house will be able to help you, if you meet them. They travel a lot. Also, my friends have questions.”

“Ask away,” Soph replied.

Raising an eyebrow, Ellipse looked to the boys and nodded. By some miracle, they did not both start spouting things at once.

“I want to know if anything strange happened right before the generators failed,” Tejal said, leaning forward. “Like a tension, or flickering, or something.”

Once Ellipse relayed the question, Soph took a few seconds to ponder, curling and uncurling their vines in thought. “I was busy trying to reestablish communication with the Impending, but Max might know about tension. They were the first mate, and the shuttle pilot. As for things regarding the actual fold, Ami would know more. I know which systems the two are hiding in, but I will not tell you their whereabouts in any more detail.”

“Anything is fine,” Ellipse said.

“Max is in Un, and Ami is in either Nestor or playing the tangled-in-your-roots game in Triune.”

Somehow, Ellipse doubted she would have the chance to meet either of the other Impending survivors, but she told Tejal and Focci what she could. Immediately, Tejal’s mood soured, and he scowled darkly enough to rival a black hole. Focci, ever the optimist, brightened and grinned wide enough to showcase the greenish gums holding his teeth in place.

“Thank Soph for us!” he sang, his tone turning brassy with happiness. “They were very helpful.”

At least someone in the crew had manners. Giggling, Ellipse forwarded Focci’s gratitude, bid Soph goodbye, and tucked away the lightbox. She exchanged another arm-squeeze, and then hauled herself up, ignoring the dizziness that punished her for standing too quickly. Rubbing her temples, she shoved the door open and ushered the boys back into the empty hallway outside. Then, she took one last look at Soph and waved goodbye.

Were it not for the dim bathroom lighting, Ellipse would have missed Soph’s soft, slow thank-you.