《The Lunacy》 [Chapter 1] - Ill try. Thomas brought his glass of whiskey down onto the desk with a satisfying thud. The buzz that followed made him unaware of the effect that ¡®thud¡¯ had on the desk. It was strong enough to rattle the ''Doctor Bowdich'' nameplate-- coated in what seemed to him like some kind of gaudy fake gold-- to the side, not quite falling off. He didn¡¯t exactly mind either way, of course. He hated that thing with a passion unlike anything else. Not only did he despise being called ''Bowdich,'' but if he¡¯d been wrong all this time and the fake gold was in fact real, then it meant that his name had been attached to some sort of disgusting pretentious mark of bureaucratic elites. And if it wasn''t fake, well, that just proved his point about trying too hard to be flashy even further, didn¡¯t it? The hull of the office rumbled, and the ice in his whiskey made some interesting crinkling sounds. His only hint of a reaction from him was a glance upwards and a sigh. Another engine discharge. They''d been getting more frequent lately. "Chell, schedule a meeting with the head of Engineering." he rubbed the fatigue out of his eyes. "He''s got to swap the coils before the Director has a meltdown about it." ¡°Yes, yes, okay.¡± a bodiless voice replied. ¡°Let me remind you, though, that this¡¯ll be the third time I do that. He keeps saying that it''d put the ship out of schedule by some infinitesimal amount of cycles, then asks for a ¡®couple more days¡¯ to find a way to avoid inconveniencing anyone." Thomas stifled a laugh-- not the fun kind, but the kind you let out in complete and utter disbelief and frustration, because nothing else really fits the mood. "I bet it¡¯s easy for him to play dumb when it''s not his head on the line," he took a sip of his drink. If he had people he spoke to frequently, they''d probably object to his liberal use of drinking. But it was 4 in the morning (did that even matter in space?), and he liked having something that kept him engaged through the late night work. "If he makes another excuse again, tell him I''ll just point the Director to his workshop next time she asks why her morning coffee¡¯s been spilled all over the oxygen handling paperwork. You know, important stuff.¡± A pause. "Noted." Then the AI laughed, and he wondered why he''d ever made the mistake of creating machine consciousness. "What''s so funny?" "Oh, nothing." she chirped. "You¡¯re in trouble either way, aren¡¯t you?" "Yeah," he let his head fall on his desk, "so please, schedule the meeting. I¡¯m trying to avoid as much of that trouble while I still can." "Oh, I did that before you even asked. I know what you''re thinking, remember?" He didn''t reply. She already knew what he''d say, after all. "Sometimes it''s just fun to hear you rant, you know?" the voice continued. "Try to ease off on that, by the way. You''ll never get people to like you like that." "Ah," he looked up, energy seemingly returning from the short banter, "You assume I want people to like me. That''s your biggest mistake." "Yes, forgive me for thinking that the ¡®Head of Health and Development¡¯ should be seen as a charitable fellow." "I¡¯m plenty charitable,¡± he shrugged, ¡°Just not too outgoing. And I didn¡¯t exactly pick the job!" "You still accepted the offer!" indignation dripped over her words. ¡°And don¡¯t you bring up your whole spiel about how it¡¯s a--¡± she laced her words with a mocking, sarcastic tone-- ¡°¡®strategic position,¡¯ you absolute nerd!¡± It was true, though. Health and Development was actually so high up the hierarchy that he could technically work on and do whatever he wanted without much restriction, as long as he could justify it as ''Development.'' And really, what technology didn¡¯t ¡®develop¡¯ something? Reading his mind, she interrupted. "You still need to care about people to do the other half." Right, well, he was ignoring the whole ''Health'' aspect to it, which was arguably the biggest part of his job. "Hush, you''ll break my whole villain act I''ve got going on." he finished his alcohol off. "Besides, why would I care that people think I''m some grumpy Machiavellian genius? If anything, that''s a compliment!" "Because you''re the one that''s supposed to keep them safe and healthy?" "So is the Director, and she pulls the whole routine off pretty well." "Unlike you, people like that in her." "You''ll break my heart." "..." The awkward silence lingered for what seemed like an enternal, yet perfectly calculated amount of seconds. "Good." This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. He forced himself to look offended, but he knew that if that hadn¡¯t come off at his expense, he¡¯d have burst out laughing. Chell''s tone lightened, "Do get back to work, though. Or the Director will break your spine instead." "Yes, yes." he waved his hand in the air and picked up his pen. Even in a state of the art spaceship housing an entire city, people still used pen and paper when it came to paperwork. Unbelievable. "Thanks, mom." "And really, think about it." the AI said, in a tone far softer than he''d ever heard her use. "I think it''d do you good to have someone to at the very least talk to, other than me. People think much worse of you than you¡¯re aware of, and I don''t think you deserve that." He blinked at the ceiling. "Er..." he paused, at a loss for words. He looked down at his hand after he realized he¡¯d tried to take a sip of the empty whiskey glass, then sighed. Thomas looked back up, and gave a weak, confused smile. "...I''ll try?"
The streets of the city inside the Lunacy weren''t so much streets as they were a mixture of open spaces, hallways, and catwalks. That¡¯s not to say that the whole thing didn¡¯t look the part of a city, it was just the fact that the Lunacy wasn''t actually a giant spaceship with a city inside, rather it pushed past that description through sheer complexity. The Lunacy was the city. An enormous city, hurling through space, propelled by ionized gas and a reactor that bent reality at its seams, tampering with space and distorting mass to unnatural extents. Everyone on Earth, and the Lunacy itself, knew that the vessel wasn''t just a moving city. It was a marvel of human innovation, one that required large parts and sectors of itself to be designed around the limitations of a project of its nature. Each building, each section, each hallway, each elevator, and each shuttle highway (to name a few things) required careful planning and calculation, which led to a few interesting quirks that Thomas found fascinating. For example, the fancier and expensive community sectors, as well as important management and business blocs got to be positioned in a part of the ship-- the top-- specifically placed far away from any critical areas (or, well, far away from anything, really), giving it the luxury of vast, open spaces filled with greenery. Large trees, beautiful parks, artificial rivers and lakes, populated with sleek, tall buildings that''d convince anyone they were standing in a very modern metropolis on the Earth''s surface, topped off and sold convincingly thanks to a simulated sky that wrapped along the hull, matched to the 24 hour cycle that the ship ran on. One of his personal favourite spots was a nice little restaurant, on one of the sides of the ship, near the "Directorate--" a specific sector of the top designated to the highest administrative and leadership buildings, to attend the meetings that the Director herself held with the many heads of each department, and to work at his office near her building-- the restaurant, ''Trails,'' was cleverly positioned to overlook a lake, the Directorate, and some particularly nice patches of trees and flowers on one window, while the other one, thanks to the fact that the joint itself was on the very side of the ship, gave a beautiful sight of the stars and space outside. It also helped that the food was pretty good, if a little expensive. Other spots on the Lunacy however, and this was the ''fascinating'' part, had a completely different style. With the absence of a ''sky,'' the rest of the ship was lit up with stark, neon coloured lights, flashy commercial screens, holographic projections, and traffic adverts and signs that advertised and directed the populace through the city. Most importantly, the architecture was, to be quite frank, a completely different story from the open spaces on the top. Floors of commerces and housing were stacked on top of each other, still sizable, but more noticeably constrained by the limited space the ship could give. There were still large, open spaces, but they overlooked and intertwined with each other, mixing different lights and colours for a mesmerizing maze that never failed to catch the eye. None of this was to say that the living conditions were any lower than the ''fancy'' parts, no, it was just so much more different than Earth that it was hard not to call attention to the contrast. Every part and floor had its own little quirks, like how hotspots of restaurants and caf¨¦s would be lit up with reds and yellows to catch the eye and invoke hunger, but the insides of those places and the tables would have more neutral lighting to match a sense of comfort and hospitality. It was, to say the least, a very interesting place to live in. And the views, the wonder, and scale did wonders to distract from the fact that, eventually, the Lunacy would land on its destination, an exoplanet semi-distant from Earth, and act as the first settlement outside of the Sol system. "-Doctor?" Yes, Thomas knew it was a couple of years off still, but he still couldn''t help but keep his mind on the destination, mind swimming with thoughts about it. "Doctor, hello?" Who could blame him, really? It wasn''t like this was the first attempt to settle in other planets and moons, no, multiple spots in the Sol system had already been growing for some time now. And this wasn''t even the first attempt to settle on the exoplanet they''d been going to, there''d been other, although failed, missions to do the same before. But it was all the same satisfying that sense of curiousity and exploration that treading new grounds brought about¡­ "Bowdich!" The mention of that dumb surname brought him out of his trance, and he noticed that someone had been bumping his shoulder as he rested on some railing to look onto a nice spot he''d found of the neon lights he''d been thinking of earlier, with tons of shuttle cars flying by an intersection nearby that danced through said lights in a very hypnotising fashion. He turned over to the person that''d been rudely interrupting his little free time he''d gained after finishing up work, which reminded him, wasn''t it almost 5 AM by now? Who would even try to approach him at this time- "-Huh?" he looked to his side in a moment of surprise, and the first thing he noticed was a mop of shoulder long, messy brown hair. "-Director?" "I''ve been trying to contact you for almost an hour, is this where you''ve been?" The woman in front of him stood a few inches taller than him, and gleamed with authority. The half stern, half annoyed expression worn on her face and in her tone, coupled with the dark sunglasses (that he knew weren¡¯t just sunglasses, he''d made them, after all,) and the fancy looking suit and tie instantly made him scramble to attention, trying to hide the fact that he didn''t think he''d been caught so off guard before. "Er, yes?" he looked around, slightly confused. "Is there- is there a problem with that?" The Director studied him for a second, and he wondered if she was deciding whether or not to grill him for not finishing something he needed to get done, even if he knew in the back of his mind that it was 5 AM, on a weekend, and that he''d actually gotten work done just a couple of hours ago. She sighed. "I was going to ask why you weren''t sleeping at this hour, but I suppose it''s to be expected of you not to be." He was this close to replying with some banter, as if it had been Chell that had just said that. But then he remembered that he was actually speaking with his boss, that she looked even more annoyed than usual, and that he really didn''t want to get fired, or thrown out an airlock. At this rate, sleep deprivation would be the end of him. "Ah- my apologies for not answering earlier, I was¡­" he brought his left arm up and pulled on his sleeve, prosthetic metal revealing itself under cloth, and tapped on a specific spot, bringing up a couple of screens that revealed multiple missed calls. "¡­Uh." He looked over to the view he''d been staring at, then back at her. "Distracted?" The Director shaked her head, and gestured to her wrist. ¡°There''s no reason to apologize. I''m aware of the time, and you were under no obligation to answer, let alone await a call from me." He internally breathed a small sigh of relief. "But I saw that you weren''t inactive, so I decided to contact you for assistance with something. If you don''t mind, would you come with me?" "Yes, of course, er¡­" he raised a brow, unsure of what she was asking for. "¡­is there something wrong, or¡­? "Not particularly," she turned around and began to walk, doing a similar motion with her hands as he''d done, aimed at the air instead of her arm, then a small ''beep'' noise rang out. She turned back to him, noticing a shuttle cab approaching them. "I was about to pay Engineering a visit, and I assumed you''d be interested in assisting me in pointing out what needs to be done to fix the recent problems you mentioned." Ah. He figured it seemed like Chell had forwarded the meeting he''d tried to schedule earlier to her as well. "Think of it as an apology for making you go through the trouble someone else should''ve been put through." Thomas let himself give a small, amused smile for a second, and nodded. "I''ll accept the offer, then. Lead the way." He''d have to thank the AI for getting him out of trouble for once. [Chapter 2] The Engineer. The Director took him to some breakfast place before heading to Engineering. He didn¡¯t mind, and the coffee brought some senses back to him that he hadn¡¯t realized had been missing. It wasn¡¯t particularly eventful, and although he wasn¡¯t really too interested in conversation, Thomas noticed that even if he¡¯d tried to spark one up, it would¡¯ve been a little awkward after noticing that the pair had been trailed by what seemed to be a team of guards, blending into crowds and tables so well that he¡¯d have never noticed if it hadn¡¯t been for one of them giving him a wink and a knowing smile, after he¡¯d caught himself staring off into nowhere while taking a sip of his cup. If the lack of privacy bothered her as much as he thought it¡¯d bother him, the Director didn¡¯t show it, instead opting to make so many calls that the Doctor had lost track of after the first few. It didn¡¯t take long for the caffeine to take effect, making him remember that it wasn¡¯t really his place to talk about privacy, given the fact that he could feel an AI in the back of his mind, figuratively sharing the living space that was his brain with him. Chell was originally supposed to be a simple piece of software, connecting his prosthetic to his thoughts. Brains were, to his surprise (well, not really, but still¡­), far more complex than hardware, and his approximation of a ¡®driver¡¯ for an organic computer ended up growing in and through his mind, learning from the thoughts it was supposed to interpret into commands, and eventually developing an identity, different from his own. It started with thoughts he¡¯d been sure he wouldn¡¯t have, intrusive yet brilliant ideas would surge from unknown depths of his psyche, and for some time he was certain that he was developing a mental illness of some kind. There was a whole lot of bad before Chell ever spoke directly as a separate intelligence, but eventually she did, and his life turned into something far more interesting than he¡¯d ever imagined possible. Thomas¡¯s work had always been decent, he acknowledged, but as a freelance contractor with little to no contacts, his talents limited themselves to personal projects and small jobs that were otherwise drowned out in the sea of innovation whose tide rose exponentially. A smart man with knowledge in a couple fields, sure, but one with little drive to stand out, perfectly content in helping progress in his own, small way. But creating a real Artificial Intelligence, one with full sapience, accidental as it may be, was most definitely not one of those ¡®small jobs¡¯ he¡¯d been used to making, and as if it hadn¡¯t been enough that the paper he published on her got recognition beyond anything he¡¯d ever seen before, Chell¡¯s presence in his mind changed him in ways that were incredibly hard to describe. She was, by design, smarter than him, or any other human in existence for that matter, but she was also part of him, and since the space between organic and synthetic had been bridged between the two, just as she could learn and process sentience like a human through his mind, he could tap into her brilliance, think, and calculate like a computer through hers. It was a symbiotic relationship between the two that not only quickly bonded them, but also rocketed them into overnight popularity. And although it was exhausting, he did admit that it all got him a spot in the Lunacy program, enabling him to live out a dream any child looking at the stars would have. And it''s not like she hadn''t gotten anything out of it, after all, at the heart of the ship, connected to every single system running on the Lunacy, was an extension to her core, the latest of its kind. It was a state of the art processor, that allowed for some computing on quantum scales that eluded even him, all for herself (at the low, low price of acting as the ''Ship AI,'' the position she''d taken in tandem with his place as Head of Health and Development.) He made a mental note to ask her what the new boost felt like, once he got back to his apart- "-Doctor Bowdich?" Huh. When had the Director stood up? "Are you certain you¡¯re okay, Doctor?" she raised a brow. "This is the second time you¡¯ve lost track of your surroundings." He stood up, dismissively waving a hand. "No, don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m just a little tired, it happens." She studied him for a second, and he once again felt like he was being scrutinized by someone higher than himself, something akin to a teacher looking for a reason to scold a student, then spoke. "Very well, then." a shrug. "If you say so."
Thomas didn¡¯t think much of the man heading the Engineering department. Emil wasn¡¯t a bad person, he didn¡¯t think so at least, but the engineer just rubbed him the wrong way. Laid back- in a bad way- and with a particularly cheap brand of faux friendliness that¡¯d peel off whenever any trouble went the man¡¯s way. The kind of person who''d pile work on you, say something like "Let''s have a meeting about this project tomorrow at 4," then arrive at 6, too late to help with anything but the end of the work, with a different excuse each time, and a smile plastered on his face to try to lull you into a sense of friendship, false as it may be.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. "Viveza Criolla," he''d called it, something from his hometown. That in and of itself was another excuse, and it annoyed Thomas to no end. So it wasn¡¯t surprising that, when the Director and himself walked into the engine room, time slowed down from the Doctor¡¯s eyes, and his gaze became calculative, as if looking for something suspicious. Scrambling hands along the worn down metal workspace. Lethargic eyes, frantically widening when met with a pair of authoritative gazes. The tail-end of a yawn, quickly replaced with a sheepish smile. A wet spot on the corner of the engineer¡¯s mouth. A small puddle next to some crumpled up blueprints on the desk. And a soldering pen, still plugged in, smoking from a now oxidized tip. Interesting. "Ah-!¡± the engineer stood up, and began to lazily scratch the side of his short and messy dark brown hair. "-To what do I owe the pleasure, you two?¡± "Good morning, Santino." "Director, please!" the man called out, walking over to a corner of the machinery-cramped space to get a chair. "It''s Emil to you." The Director took the chair from his hands and carefully took a seat as the engineer did the same, leaving Thomas standing in the back with a lost expression, focused on something else. "Santino, I''m here to speak to you about the recent hull tremors." she crossed her legs, and leaned back with an annoyed expression. "It''s beginning to cause complaints from every sector." "Ahhh!" he laughed. "Yes, yes, the damn ''quakes," Emil leaned in. "I was actually working on fixing that before you came!" Thomas felt a thought spark up, not his, but it was gone as soon as it appeared, and he couldn''t make it out. The engineer wiped his sleeve on the desk as his hand trailed to the side, picking up the soldering pen and impressively twirling it around into position, skin somehow avoiding hot metal. "See, the ship AI wanted me to add a circuit of some kind into the diagnostic chamber before swapping the coils, gave me a blueprint to make it and everything." he pointed to some papers, then continued. "We talked, and it said-" "She." Emil paused, awkwardly silent for a split second, expression indescribable. He looked over to the source of the interruption, Thomas, paused, nodded, then turned back to the Director, and went on. "-and she said that the circuit''ll warn us next time the coils need replacin'' before it''s an issue. Ain''t that cool? That''ll save us the trouble of running off schedule next time!" The Director didn''t seem too interested in the mechanics of the engine. "I''m asking you when it''ll be ready, Santino." "Uh..." his hand instinctively went behind his neck, looking for something to scratch in nervousness. "Well, I think I can have it done by today." "Good." she stood up. "We can take our leave then." And so, the engineer was left alone, half-dazed, and dreading the piled up work for the day.
Thomas looked out the cab window, admiring the flight view of the upper parts of the city. He covered a yawn, day and a half of sleep deprivation showing, and looked over to the Director, a thought popping up in his mind. "Why''d you bring me there, really?" The Director, without even breaking her gaze out her window to look at him, replied without much attention. "So that you know how to deal with him next time, without having to get me to do it for you." "Ah." Silence filled the cab, save for the light buzz of the air conditioning, and the infrequent bumps of turbulence in the air. Thomas spoke up again. "He lied." "I know, he was asleep. We woke him up." "Yes, but he lied about something else, too." The Director turned to him, prompting him to continue. "That ''circuit'' was supposed to be implemented weeks ago. To prevent the coils from wearing out." For the first time, Thomas saw the Director show an inkling of expressiveness. She sighed, in a mixture of exhaustion and exasperation. "He''s lucky he''s good at his job, when he does it." [Chapter 3] Long days work. [root@lunacy: Automated systems active.] > login [root@lunacy: Enter user.] > ai_chell [root@lunacy: Authentication required.] > upload /assets/verification/THOMASDONTTOUCHTHIS.dat [root@lunacy: Check.] > sudo halt -p [root@lunacy: Automated systems disabled.] [root@lunacy. Shutting down...] --- A fraction of a second. The Lunacy itself was ran and upkept by a main network system available in most spacefaring vessels out there. The software was, by all standards, an excellent tool. Each ship came with its own set of built-in procedures and routines, and those aboard qualified and in possession of proper clearance could modify and fine tune them through terminals scattered across the ship, or through their own devices, as long as they were connected to the terminals themselves. It was as good as an automated system could get, and although maintenance on them was described as ''a pain in the ass'' by the engineers behind the scenes, there had been no recorded major issues with any of the tools, so the lack of a better alternative was never an issue worth looking into in favour of more pressing matters. And it only took Chell a fraction of a second to create a new, more efficient routine for engine maintenance after she took over the Lunacy. Not ''took over'' in an evil sense, no. She''d been handsomely paid in the form of an extra, experimental processor the size of a building to do the Lunacy''s job better than the Lunacy could. It had just taken a while for her to be granted permission to completely override everything, rather than just handling everything as a super-user in the existing system. It had taken a lot of trust and convincing to decide that no, she wasn''t going to turn the universe into a paperclip the moment she was given agency over the ship, and that yes, having her use the (admittedly, in her eyes,) slow and archaic human infrastructure and calling it a day was akin to purchasing a fancy new processor and forcing it to run on Windows 95. But she''d finally passed enough tests and had enough conversations with both the Director and those in charge on Earth that they''d /finally/ given her the greenlight to just let her do her thing. So when the head of Engineering completely ignored her first fix, and neglected his responsibilities for an entire week, Chell had to admit she''d been a little miffed by it. "I mean, really!" she complained. "I could see what he''s doing if I wanted to, maybe he should try putting in a little effort before lying!" "Chell, I''m trying to sleep..." Thomas had finally made it back home after being paraded by the Director around the whole ship. The quick ''visit'' to Engineering had quickly turned into him being strung along as a personal assistant for the day across the Lunacy. He''d eluded sleep for longer periods of time, but he had to admit that he''d never been as active during those insomniac episodes. And now, two days into his restless streak, he was finally ready to lay down and pass out. "And then the coward had the gall to pretend like I piled more work on him while he was fixing the issue his own negligence caused!" Well, ideally. In all honesty, he couldn''t not at least try to lend her an ear. Both because he understood the feeling, and because he wouldn''t be able to sleep until she allowed him to. "You know him," he yawned. "The guy was trying to get out of trouble." "He''s a snake." "That''s a little rough." Thomas wondered. "How long do you think it''ll be until he finishes the fixes?" "Oh, he already did." "Already?" "Yes. It''s infuriating." "Why''s that?" he closed his eyes. "Sounds pretty capable to me." "If he could get it done so quick, why didn''t he do so earlier?" "You''d never understand the art of procrastination. It''s a human thing. Not everyone can think at superluminal speeds like you, you know." "Mm. That''s not right. You don''t have that, yet you can function just fine." "Ah, well, I''m not a snake, so I wouldn''t really know about all that either." A pause. "Hold on, you agreed with me?" "Oh, yeah." he nodded, eyes still closed. "He''s a total snake." "Why would you argue his case then?" A smile crept up the doctor''s mouth, and realization washed over Chell as she read his mind. "Sometimes it''s just fun to hear you rant, you know?"Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. "I can''t believe you just used my line on me!" The rest of the night was quite fun, and Thomas got the best rest he''d had in a long time. After all, sometimes all you need to get some proper rest is a good laugh beforehand.
The Director rubbed her temples, as if trying to dig the frustration out of her mind. She''d had a million and one issues to resolve since the Doctor''s creation had taken over most of the ship''s systems, and most of them boiled down to the very simple fact that the Head Engineer had been incredibly negligent over the course of the past week or two, to a remarkably unusual extent. Yes, the man had always been rather unapologetically remiss when it came to his responsibilities, but she''d vouched for him against the authorities back on Earth''s wishes of handing the role over to Bowdich plenty of times because of his predisposition to committing as little effort as possible on any given task. The Doctor''s mind might be brilliant beyond Emil''s capabilities, but what the Engineer lacks in talent, the man makes up in his impressive ability to create the simplest and most efficient solutions to every problem thrown his way. Each of Bowdich''s inventions could be considered a masterclass in their fields, yes, but the Director argued that his mind would be wasted if it was narrowed down like Santino''s. The Doctor''s job was better done in abstractions and complexities, creating grand plans and devices to push the city as a whole forwards, whereas the Engineer''s job was the opposite in nature, with the issues being focused on purely focusing on single, defined problems. She''d likened it to the difference between playing a game of chess, and solving a Rubik''s cube. That line of thinking sounded like a dig at Santino''s capabilities against his peer, but she didn''t see it as such. Bowdich could solve a Rubik''s cube, yes, but Santino could come up with the most efficient algorithm to consistently do so and never have to think about it again, whereas Bowdich would run circles around Santino in a game of chess, perpetually thinking multiple steps ahead of the Engineer. Each of them were best in their own places, irreplaceable in their own ways. But this could only ever apply if the idiot actually did any of that work in the first place. She''d called him lazy before, yes, but never to the point of negligence. So how could it be that it seemed like the man was actively looking to lose his job? ... "Ah." she said out loud. "Of course." The AI. It had been her, hadn''t it? The computer had done so much in a single week, that it stood to reason that the Engineer would feel like his work wouldn''t be necessary anymore. At best, he''d seen it as an excuse to be even lazier. At worst, it had hurt his pride. He wasn''t dumb. He wasn''t trying to lose his job, he felt like his job had been taken already, and was behaving as such. Either way, she''d have to deal with this before it got to a point where any issues could arise from the conflict.
Emil was in a state of heavenly bliss. Leaning back on his chair, feet up on his workshop''s table, while listening to decades-old music and enjoying a bottle of some odd concoction whose makeup he was not fully aware of, only knowing that it was sold in that one store with the alcoholic drinks with the robots that made a unique beverage for you. He played with the bottle for a moment, sloshing the liquid from side to side, then leaned over to rest it on his desk, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. A small beeping sound kept him from finishing his plans for the evening. "La puta que lo pari¨®." Sleep always came naturally to him, and although today was no different, he could tell from the lights flaring up on the small device network he''d planted across the Engineering section that someone was coming to see him. He could ignore it and let himself be enveloped by his dream''s world, then deal with whoever it was when they got there, but he wasn''t a big fan of being caught off guard by others. "No respect for naps these days, I swear..." Emil didn''t exactly put much effort into shifting his position into something a bit less vulnerable, but the point wasn''t to completely wake himself up. He just needed to be awake enough to register the moment someone came into the room, and figure out who they were. Sure, he could check the cameras, but that''d require an amount of effort he was not interested in putting into anything. It was simple, and he''d done it countless times before. Pretend to be asleep, wait for them to come in, and get a quick look at them to figure out what act to put on to please them enough to make them leave. Whoever it was, they were close enough to where he could hear their footsteps now. Judging by the echoing sounds and the small vibrations running through the metal sheets on the floor and onto his hair, it was someone confident. The speed at which they came told him it was someone in either a hurry, or with a serious case of impatience. Ah, Miss Director herself, then. "Should be easy enough."
She walked into the workshop she''d already visited once today, and was met by the familiar sight of the aloof engineer, sprawled out onto his table, and asleep. "Santino." Nothing. "Santino, wake up." The man''s hand was lazily hanging to his side, nearly touching the floor. His fingers twitched irregularly, as if he was having a vivid dream. The Director sighed, and walked up to the engineer. With a flick of her finger, she woke him from his unconscious state. "Wh-" he looked around, limbs scrambling around to a standing position, ignoring the chair that fell to the ground underneath him in the process. "A-ah, Director!" he smiled. "Twice in a day, eh?" Behind the sunglasses, her expression remained the same. Unfazed by her demeanor, Santino just gave a sheepish smile and relaxed his posture. "Am I becomin'' part of the ship''s elite, or do y''just miss me that much?" "I''m here to talk to you about this last week." "Again?" "I''m not interested in excuses right now. I''m only here to ensure this doesn''t happen again, Santino." "Is that so?" he raised a brow. "What''s the idea, then? More sensors on the engines, or somethin''?" "Just a reminder." "A reminder...?" "That your work here is important not just to yourself, but every single living person on the Lunacy. I had to cancel development projects, construction work, lock down entire segments of the ship to avoid any possible injuries. All because," she folded her arms. "you, Santino, decided to take your time with critical work." "Ah, sorry, sorry. Like I said-" "-Despite what you might think, the AI on board is not here to replace you, nor do your work for you. The ship, and all lives on it, are still /my/ responsibility. And it is /your/ responsibility to not only help me, but the AI as well, to ensure that responsibility doesn''t go unattended." The engineer just looked at her. "Need I remind you about the previous missions of this caliber, the crews that didn''t come back from-" she gestured around her. "-all this?" Santino seemed to think on his reply for a second, scratching his cheek. Uncontented with words, he just shook his head. "Don''t let the comfort of all this technology fool you, Santino. We''re all treading uncharted space, and not only in the figurative sense. Everyone depends on you, don''t let them down." The Director turned away from him, and walked towards the exit. She paused as the door opened, then looked back at him. "I vouched for you. Don''t let me down." She walked away, and the Engineer was left standing alone in his workshop once again. Emil stood there for a while. He wasn''t particularly sure what to say, nor do. For as much as he liked to think he was hard to catch off guard, he''d just been caught off guard. The Director wasn''t wrong, not really. And at this point, he really didn''t care for his reasoning for taking too long on the engines, if he had any. He sighed, closing his tired eyes for a bit, then looked towards a corner of a room. A camera, hanging from the ceiling, simply watched over the scenery. After a couple of seconds of eye contact with the small recording device, the center of the lens- a red light- flickered out, and was replaced by a small, pink heart. He knew from experience that the heart meant the AI had just taken control of whatever piece of technology she''d gotten access to, and was actively looking through it. Something about it- no, her- trying to present a more amiable image through non-threatening imagery. It was kind of funny. "Uh," he stuttered. "Sorry?" Silence. He regained his composure after some more thinking. With his posture relaxing once again, he sat down on his chair again, getting comfortable. A sheepish smile grew on his lips as he closed his eyes. "I''m still having you draw the blueprints for me, alright?" He could swear he could see the camera narrow its lens in response, which he found hilarious. "Okay, I know what you''re thinking-" he explained, "but it makes sense. I''ll do the hard work, but drawing up the prints takes, like, what? three seconds for you?" The tiny heart on the camera did a circle motion, as if rolling an eye. "Trust me, you''re better at it. We''ll make a great team!" Emil gave a tired laugh and prepared to sleep again. If the AI had any complaints about their new arrangement, there''d be plenty of time to sort it out later. Now was time for his beauty sleep.