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The Communications Room is boring as hell on a good day. The most interesting things that ever happened are the same ol’ transmissions, if any, and the occasional SYSTEM VITAL TO OUR CONTINUING SURVIVAL BREAKING DOWN. So, you know, nothing out of the ordinary on the USS Hephaestus. I turn on the mic clipped to my shirt, and check on my recording doohickey (there’s probably an actual name for it, but let’s be real, doohickey is more fun to say) and take a deep breath, looking out of the giant window that takes up an entire wall of the room.
"Communications Officer Eiffel, reporting for duty. Ready for another day of useless listening to useless broadcasts that hold no new information as to where they’re coming from or who- I mean, or what- is sending them." Another day of recording a log where I can't say what I really feel, what I really know, because then Cutter would send us to the loony bin as soon as we get back to earth, if he doesn’t blow us up first.
“Officer Eiffel?” Hera’s cheery, albeit impatient voice, rings through the room, probably louder than actually necessary.
“Hey there, Hera. Could you maybe, I dunno, tone down the volume a bit? Believe it or not, I like my ears, and keeping them would just make my day phenomenal.”
“Well, the thing is, Officer Eiffel, I had my volume at a reasonable level the first time I called your name. And the second. In fact, by the third time, my voice was still quite ca-”
“Alright, alright, I get the picture.” That sentence doesn’t end anywhere good for me. “So, uh, how can I be of service?”
“Oh, I was just… checking in. Making sure you didn’t manage to blow yourself up by turning a knob too far… or something…”
“You ok? You seem a little out of it, something bothering you?” Hera lets out a sharp, forced laugh, almost like a bark.
“No, no, I’m fine. just… fine. Don’t worry about silly old me, just doing the daily rounds of… stuff!” Something is clearly off- Hera is fantastic at many things, but hiding her emotions sure as hell isn't one of them.
“Okie dokie. I’m just gonna put on some iHeart Alien Radio and chill out for a bit. Care to join, darling?” Silence. “Uh, Hera? I know you’re there- you always are. But an answer would be great so I can know if you’re fully here. Y’know, in spirit, or whatever the AI equivalent of that is.” More silence. “Darlin’?”
“Yeah, I’ll stay.”
“Alrighty then, good to kno-”
“Probably not for long, though,” she added in rushedly. “Minkowski’s keeping me busy down in engineering.” False. Minkowski came in not ten minutes ago to tell me that she was taking a shower and to avoid doing any REAL damage while she was gone, and her showers are twenty minutes on the short side. I dunno what she does in there for so long- probably singing show tunes and keeping that six-pack squeaky clean.
I check on Kappa-Phi Sector 12 and, sure enough, there’s a signal with a piece filled with long, low, overlapping melodies, probably mostly strings. I’d ask Hera what the name of the piece is, but she doesn’t seem to be an a very good mood. Speaking of Hera-
Clearly something’s going on in her mind. She lied to me, so she would have an excuse to get out of a conversation. This could mean one of three things.
1- She’s avoiding me.
Ok, this one can be ruled out pretty immediately. After all, she initiated conversation. And it’s not like Minkowski ordered her to confront me while she was in the shower. So nope, not avoiding me.
2- She’s mad at me.
Unlikely for two reasons. One, see option one. Two, she’s have called out my bullshit & dragged my ego through the gutter twice by now if she wasn’t already taking the ‘‘passive-aggressive silent-treatment’’, which I already know she isn’t doing (again, refer to option number one).
3- She has something to ask/tell me, but is hesitating.
By process of elimination, I know it’s this one. The question now is- what the hell does she want to say? Surely, if it was an emergency, she would’ve told Minkowski first, if anything. I can’t think of anything else i could possibly need to know but would be a touchy subject for Hera. Unless…
Hilbert. Hilbert must have done something treacherous or accidentally revealed something about the Decima project or SOMETHING bad, because that's what Hilbert does. He ruins everything and the lives of everyone around him. He dismembered Hera and put a deadly virus in me and tried to kill Minkowski and Lovelace and ACTUALLY killed the first Hephaestus crew, Lambert and Huey and-
I feel my chest start to burn. Stupid Hilbert, or Selberg, or whatever the hell we’re calling him now, invading my every thought. I can’t talk to Hera without thinking about what he did, can’t make a repair without remembering that hey, he could probably do it better, can’t even freaking sneeze without worrying, even if just for a split second, that it’s because of the Decima. I can’t go to sleep at night without worrying that he’ll find a way to escape and kill us all. Can’t even listen to this goddam music- can’t even do my job- without remembering Christmas that year. His mere existence has literally affected my very breath, filled with his toxicity, infecting every fiber of my being. I can’t really call him stupid, though, not accurately. As much as it pains me to admit, the man’s a genius, and the work he’s doing is pretty goddamn brilliant. But he’s a total pain in the ass most of the time. Sometimes, though, his intelligence and big ol’ words are almost… No. Nopety nope nope nope. There is no way in hell that I could feel anything other than cold, bitter hatred towards the guy. I mean, he put a deadly virus in me without my even knowing. What an asshole!
But then, why did my chest burn? I mean, that’s a normal sign of really really REALLY despising someone, right? And the weird tingly feeling in my gut? And my head going kinda fuzzy whenever I talk to him? Right? There’s no way. Nope. Nnnnnooooopeee. I most certainly do NOT have ANY sort of FEELINGS towards DOCTOR DOOM. Jesus, could you imagine? Me? With a crush? Pshaw. But what if-
The signal suddenly cats to loud static, jarring me out of my train of thought. I take a deep breath and gather my composure
“Aaaand that’s all, folks! Stay tuned for some silence, and maybe even a little static, if we’re lucky!” I lean back (or whatever the zero-gravity equivalent of that is) and let out a little sigh. Now, to talk to Hera-
“So… do you like anyone, Eiffel?” Well, she spoke first- that sure as hell makes my life easier
“Of course, sweetheart. I like you, and Minkowski… well, most of the time, anyways, and heck, even Lovelace is bearable on a good day...”
“No no no, like, like like”
“Thats... a lot of ‘like’s”
“Do you have a crush , Officer Eiffel?” That takes me by surprise. Why does she care? Does she know about what I was just pondering? Oh God, was I thinking aloud ? Or is it just more obvious than I thought? Is she just teasing me, or is she completely serious? Is that hurt in her voice? Does she have a crush on me ? Is that even possible ?
Ok Doug, just do what you do best, lie and avoid further contact until you can figure out how the hell to get out of this situation you’ve somehow gotten yourself into.
“Of course not, who would I even have a crush on? There’s, like, five people on the station, and, having a crush in this kind of confinement with so few people would really suck.” I decide to laugh for effect, but it comes out strained. Not my best moment, but not my worst, either.
“Yeah, it would,” Hera snapped, then, calmer, “it sure would.”
And oh boy, does it suck. Especially when the particular person you’re crushing on experimented on you repeatedly. And dismembered you best friend. And also just happens to be a mass murderer and the sworn enemy of pretty much all your crewmates on a deep-space mission.
But hey, what can you do?