1. video

[rickitikitarr]

[Ricki Tarr, latest inmate arrival, is still getting his feet under him. He's been on board for a little while now, but let's face it, he's a field agent from the 1970s, getting used to graphical user interfaces of his messenger has put up a bit of a roadblock in terms of his making contact.

By the time he's confident enough with the flimsy, cheeping little device to make a video post, his stomach is growling, so the very first message is a simple video shot.

It's poorly framed, he has no real idea of how to centre himself in the lens, and the light in his room is dark and low and terrible for any sort of filming. But from the dark, what's visible of his half-in-the-frame expression is still and steady;]


The first living creature to orbit the earth was a little Russian mongrel named Laika. She was a pretty thing, with a clever cast to her eyes and pricked up, pointed ears. On the fourtieth anniversary of the Bolshevik revolution they flung the little thing into the sky.

In fact, the Russians had been launching dogs into suborbital flights for a few years before, but none attained the notoriety or captured the imaginations of the world like little Laika. I was rather young when she was sent to space, but recall thinking the entire proceedings terribly inhumane.

The Soviets say that she was euthanized before her oxygen ran out. The British and Americans question whether that is true. The Russians question whether that questioning is deliberately spread propaganda meant to make them seem monstrous. In the time since, I think both sides have lost track of the original truth of the matter. But the question of her ultimate cause of death aside, I wondered whether she might be hungry, thirsty or afraid, uncomprehending of how it was possible to see stars all around her... I actually can't recall reading whether Sputnik 2 was like this ship, with windows or not. Laika may not have seen stars spinning in the sky, but I'm sure the sounds and sudden lack of gravity must have been rather frightening for such a little dog.

[His voice is low and steady, the pictures his paints are matter-of-fact and vivid. He accent is an odd, old one, London tempered by a childhood racing through Penang streets and other colonial holds. He takes his time with the story before concluding;]

Which is all to say, given the apparent flexibility of space and time on this vessel, if we see her while we're out here, I must simply insist that we make a stop.

Comments

[rickitikitarr]

I traveled a lot. Developed a bit of a thing for an old paperback on an ocean front, or a screen porch.

[Bars, of course, were a given, as was the odd girl.]

[velocette]

[Books are generally more interesting than girls, in his opinion.]

You'll like the library. What about art? Games?

[He orders two beers, though he'll mostly just sip at his own]

[rickitikitarr]

[Ricki isn't in a hurry either. People keep trying to buy him drinks here, a man could get trashed if he wasn't careful.]

Nah, never been any good with art. I do play a hand of cards now and again, though.

[velocette]

With stakes, or just for fun?

[The Motorcycle Boy has a hell of a poker face, and can't find hardly anyone to gamble with.]

[rickitikitarr]

[He laughs and points out, firmly;]

I have three cigarettes to my name, and one little television box, which I imagine I should hang onto.

[velocette]

[He nods, but there's a flicker of disappointment]

You have to get very creative around here, it's true.

[rickitikitarr]

Give me time.

[A promise.]

I am, by the sounds of things, going to be here a while.

[velocette]

Oh, don't feel pressured by me. They say there's a difference in gambling between having fun and being smart.

[He sips his beer, leans back]

What would you do with a wish, Ricki?

[rickitikitarr]

You know the answer to that.

[Nodding out the window.]

Certainly Laika. What about you?

[velocette]

[he grimaces, waves a hand]

I don't want anything; it's why I asked. I ask everyone, sometimes I get ideas. My last wish was for a domestic abuse resource center in a city that, as far as I can tell, is mostly made up of villains who dress up in spandex and body armour.

Laika can't be the only thing that concerns you.

[rickitikitarr]

It's a big, bad world out there. The moment you start thinking about what you want to fix, you'd have to start asking yourself why you chose this bit and not that.

[But there's something far away to him now, thinking of his little daughter, and of Irina, brains spattered all over a wall in Moscow.]

I don't know enough about the parameters of the wishes, to be honest. I'm hardly a candidate, they didn't go through them in detail for me.

[velocette]

He probably won't unless you stay on as a Warden. And even then, the Admiral doesn't like to talk.

[Which frightens most inmates, and a few wardens, he's noticed.]

The wishes themselves are almost limitless. I don't know anyone who's had one rejected. But I also don't have any proof that he really grants all of them; if someone is desperate enough to go through all this, though, they probably don't mind taking a leap of faith.

[rickitikitarr]

-you're one of them, the wardens.

[It clicks for him, how did he miss that? He's been getting lazy, categorizing people by their aura of disreputability, not listening.]

[velocette]

[He studies him, parsing the words since Ricki's voice was just a little too low for him to catch the full tone]

Is that a bad thing?

[rickitikitarr]

[He's about to say 'heavens no, of course not,' but decides instead on;]

Find out in about a week or two, I suppose.

[He still hasn't figured out when exactly he's getting placed.]

[velocette]

Oh, that all depends on who you get. And if the Admiral is feeling very sadistic.

[He usually seems to be, lately, but Piper decides not to go into that.]

I've seen inmates who should have been the ones with the keys. I've seen wardens I'd have liked to throw overboard.

[rickitikitarr]

Flip of a coin, then.

[He shrugs, takes a swig of his beer. Hopes Piper has an inmate already, couldn't get Ricki by accident, hates already that he sort of wants to kill him at just the thought.]

Where are we in the month?

[velocette]

[He gives him an odd look, like Ricki is asking if the tooth fairy will be along tonight]

That's the first thing you should let go of.

[rickitikitarr]

Coins, odds, or months?

[Clarifying.]

[velocette]

No- Moods. Sometimes it's predictable but lately it's not.

[rickitikitarr]

What do you mean?

[Not wanting to misinterpret.]

[velocette]

[On the one hand, this probably isn't good to tell someone so new to the boat. But on the other hand, if Ricki can't handle all the chaos, he'll fail soon enough anyway.]

I mean the Admiral is unpredictable. The Barge has nearly fallen apart twice since I've been here, and the most recent time, he tried to blame us for it. Some people have faith that he knows what he's doing, but I think it's foolish to assume that he's given a lot of caring insight to his decisions. He doesn't like us, and trying to predict what he'll do or when is a waste of time. No one knows what he is or who he is.

[rickitikitarr]

[His thumb traces a circle around the mouth of the bottle as he considers this, looking away from him and at the stash of bottles behind the bar.

His expression shifts to a sort of set neutrality, as that sinks in deep.]

[velocette]

[The Boy stares at him while Ricki thinks, watching for the slightest sign of cracking. It's unsettling to see how calm Ricki is with all of this, on his first day, after a death no less.]

Of course, I'm a cynic. If you want a different perspective, there is one.

[rickitikitarr]

[He's no longer considering killing the Boy, is about the only good thing can be said for Ricki's actual state of mind right now. He takes another long pull on his drink, then sets the bottle back down.]

I've met 'em. The rehabilitationists.

[So very mild mannered.]