MAiD In(n)

[𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘥, 𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺’𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵- 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺, 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯.]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: (𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥) Hnh. Huh…?

[𝘈𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥.]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: (𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥) No… No, no, no, no! What the fuck??

[𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘳𝘦-𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Hello?? Is anybody there?? Hellooo? I need help!

[𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘭, 𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘯 𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘦, 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳. 𝘌𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘏𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘱𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘢 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘺.]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: (𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺) Hello? Is somebody in here?

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: (𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵) Yes! Y, y, yes! Help! I’m stuck in here! It seems the door is jammed! Get me out- please!!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: (𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘨𝘭𝘺, 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨) Oh, my! What are you doing in there? That’s no place for a young lady.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: (𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦) ) Yeah, about that… listen, can you please just help me get out of here??

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: (𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵) Sure thing, dear!

[𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩.]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Thank you! Thank you so much!

[𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘫𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬.]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: My word! It seems to be caught on something or other. I can’t get it to budge. Is there a lever or an eject button of some kind in there you can engage?

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: I’ve tried everything. The only other button in here is the one to activate the pod.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: Oh, my! Well, now- we don’t want that. Do we?

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: (𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥) No!! Just, please…

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: Well, I’m going to have to go and see if I can find something to help me. Hang tight (𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩), I’ll be right back.

[𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘵𝘴. 𝘈𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘭𝘺.]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: (𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵- 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩, 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯) What am I supposed to do? This is… terrifying. Keep yourself together! You’ve got to hold it together.

[𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦-𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘢𝘨 𝘣𝘺 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘬 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘪𝘵.]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: We’ll want to be very careful. This is quite the precarious situation you’ve landed yourself in, miss.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: (𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳, 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥) Sir, if you’ll please- I’m not a miss…

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: (𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥) Oh? So, you’re a young lad, then?

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: (𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥) W- no… Not exactly, either. My name’s Chaves.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: (𝘎𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘨, 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘴.) I have here on record, from the looks of it, anyway- the only person fitting your description to come by this facility was a…

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: (𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘧𝘧) It’s Chaves! That’s some old- the paperwork is, can be difficult- listen… can we please just focus on getting me out of here, first? Is something going on?? Do you see the floor?

[𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳’𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘸, 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘧𝘺.]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: What? (𝘊𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳) Oh, no- no. I don’t think so, anyway. Standard state of affairs around here, I’m afraid. Building one of the things we’re trying to get you out of is a rather involved process. I see here now, in my papers, you were here on an academic project.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Yes. Though I didn’t intend to get this up close and personal. It’s for my dissertation.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: Ah, a fellow medical professional! Spectacular, young lady! What a delightful pursuit! I’m surprised- it often seems nobody wants to work anymore.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Again- could we please with the… Listen, for starters- how am I looking over there?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: (𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴) Confusing.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: (𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥) I’m sorry, what?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: I’m sorry- nothing. It’s just that, well- you’re one of those.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: One of what, now?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: (𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘨, 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘬, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨.) You remind me so much of my granddaughter. A few years ago, she started getting involved with one of those internet social communities and suddenly started insisting that we refer to her by Adam. I’m an old fellow, and I don’t claim to know or understand what’s going on these days with you kids- but it can all be a little confusing, if you ask me.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: With all due respect, sir- I didn’t. And I’m 27. Can you please just help me out of here, and then I’d be happy to discuss this more- maybe somewhere less smokey. Is it getting worse?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: What? Oh- no. I don’t think so. With the work they do around here building those, these things tend to happen. Come in waves and the like. You get used to it. Those damned warehouse workers don’t know how to read the damned sign and keep the door between them and our offices closed as they come and go. How many flyers do we have to print for them? Not that they’d be able to read the plain English…

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: (𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺) That sounds so awful. Doc…? What’s the situation?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: Hmm? Oh, yes! (𝘚𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺) Well, it looks like we should have you out of there lickety-split, I just have to see where the seal is jammed. This is a known defect. Quite a nuisance!

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: That’s great!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: (𝘚𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘬, 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘴, 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮.)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Well?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝:Yes?

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Are ya gonna?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: I’m sorry, yes. By the way, my name is Doctor…  (𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦) You may just call me Ward.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Great! Thank you, Doctor Ward!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: (𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘵𝘭𝘺) It’s just- first. There are some things I’d like to discuss with you.  (𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮. 𝘌𝘭𝘣𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘴, 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘥.)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Can it wait?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: I’m afraid not.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Sir, this is – what are we doing here? What’s going on? Please- just…

[𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳’𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴.]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: It would seem there’s been a bit of confusion here, young lady. When you called and scheduled your little tour with my office, our understanding was that you were to be surveying our manufacturing process to outline it for your paper.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Right. And that’s a problem because?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: Well, you see- a colleague of mine, her son happens to be in one of your classes, and well- it seems he overheard you at school chit-chatting with some of your radical companions about your feelings regarding this important work we do. (𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘴𝘵.)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: (𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺) I’m… studying journalism. My paper- it’s about industry ethics. I’d be happy to include a glowing mention of your rescue.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: That’s just the thing, my dear. I’d like to be clear as to what you intend to say before we can proceed, if you’d indulge me.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: I’d be happy to, if you could just get me out of here first.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: (𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘬, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘱𝘦𝘭- 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴- 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮) And how did you get in there, to begin with?

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: I… don’t know.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: That’s what I thought.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Honestly, that’s one of the first things I’m intent on resolving if we could please just let me out.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: It seems to me as though we’re in a bit of a situation here. Who’s to say (𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘱𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮) you aren’t doing this on purpose for attention? You people are prone to be, let’s be honest, a bit dramatic.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: I’m not sure what you’re insinuating, sir.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: I think we both know this would make an excellent anecdote for your paper. To my understanding.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Sir- are you saying I’d lock myself in a lethal situation to make some kind of a point?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: I just- think that we both know your biased opinion of our business, and what I’m unclear about are your intentions with the opportunity we’ve so generously given you.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: (𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩) I’d really like to establish some equal footing for this conversation. Me dying in here isn’t exactly conducive to your business model, either- is it?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: (𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨) Well… it certainly wouldn’t make for a happy story. That’s for certain. Far be it from me to say whether tragedy wouldn’t necessarily boost visibility. If it bleeds, it leads. Do you understand?

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: (𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘶𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘥) I just- I don’t know if necessarily helping people, ya know, make this kind of decision- really, glamorizing something so obviously final, is…

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: (𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴’𝘴 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘴) Shouldn’t that be a personal choice people are free to make, dear? Certainly, you don’t mean to tell me you of all people would want to tell other people how to conduct their affairs? How to live? You can’t pretend to be able to realistically account for every possible situation.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: (𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴) (𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧) Fucking worthless! (𝘛𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳) No. I wouldn’t. But I also don’t know that making it easier for people who might have turned out to have more of a life- especially for any kind of profit- is the best idea, either.

[𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨.]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: Cutting edge advancement has always been a frontier of some ambiguity. A grey area defined by its precedented outcomes. It can’t be known pre-emptively any more than it can be wholesale assessed. What of those who would benefit immensely from our work? (𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: That’s great, but not my point at all. Is it really normal for it to be like this? It’s getting to be a lot in here.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: Don’t try to change the subject, madame.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: I’m not…! Look around you! This can’t be normal.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: As if that’s something you know anything about.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: I’m sorry, what? Get your head in the game! Look around you! There’s a lot going on.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: There’s always a lot going on. It’s a research and development office. I need to know how you intend to affect its operation.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Neither of us will be affecting anything if someone doesn’t look into this.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: It won’t matter if I do if I let you out, and you threaten a good, productive facility with your radical nonsense.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Are you insane??

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: Says the gumshoe who doesn’t even (𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨) know what she is, or what she’s doing.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Doctor, are you okay?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: That’s precisely what we’re attempting to deduce, now isn’t it?

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: No- I mean, your health. It’s getting a little intense out there. Please, I just need you to get me out of here. Then I’ll be happy to shoot the shit about any and all of this with you. I promise.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: That’s what troubles me. That you insist there’s anything to discuss.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Right here and now, the smoke in the room- yeah. And if we could do it somewhere safer…

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: (𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘵𝘭𝘺, 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴) Here we go with the selective outrage.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Doctor- I’m stuck in a fucking kill pod in a building that doesn’t seem to be doing so hot!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: How many times do I have to tell you? It’s from the warehouse! But what would I know? I’ve only been working here for over a decade. Here comes the expert visitor to tell me my business!

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Look. For starters, just help me get out of this fucking pod. Okay? Can we start there? Doesn’t it make at least a little sense to you why I’m upset? I guess you’re not a psychologist.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: Young lady, that’s no way to address your elders.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Yeah, and it’s not normal to even pretend to threaten the life of another person, either!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: I didn’t threaten anybody. Have I threatened you?

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: You haven’t exactly not.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: Oh, here we go with the hysterics.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: I’m stuck. In. A. Fucking. Suicide. Machine.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: And who got you into that situation?  (𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: I don’t know! But I’m beginning to feel like I might have some ideas.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: (𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨) Oh, yeah? Based on what evidence?

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Reading the room, asshole! Now, c’mon! Stop fucking around!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: Language, language! Who wouldn’t say it was your carelessness and little shenanigans that landed you where you wound up?

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Excuse me?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: It seems to me that the super sleuth got a little too high and mighty on her little know-it-all excursion and got herself stuck in an unfortunate situation.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Death is more than an “unfortunate situation” you fucking lunatic! Are you paying any attention to what’s going on around you?

[𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘪𝘳𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘥.]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: I’ve been (𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨) solving problems longer than you’ve been alive. And maybe (𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨) if you tried doing it yourself sometime you wouldn’t be getting up to no good, and trying to ruin other people’s livelihoods and making such a fuss about things you know so little about.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: I won’t ever have the opportunity if you don’t help me out.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: (𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦.) You people, you kids have had every opportunity and all you ever want is more! More, more, more! We gave you the opportunity to come visit this facility for your little paper, and now here you are- having gotten yourself into a situation, and you both want help and can’t stop attacking me! Profaning my work, and my reputation! Lobbing your crude language and bad behavior in my direction! So inconsiderate and entitled!

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: If you’re done monologuing, I’d really just like to do the rational, decent thing and get out of here. We both need to get out of here and figure out what the hell is going on! I’d be happy to understand each other better if we…

[𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘨 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳, 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺.]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Doctor? Doctor Ward? Hello? Hello?? Ward, are you there?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: (𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘥, 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘦- 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘥. 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥.) You… kids wouldn’t know a hard d-days work if it c, came up and bit you on the ass! My blood- s,sweat- and t-tears went into building this machine… All you know is whining, a-and…

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Ward? Ward!? I’m not trying to hurt anybody, so please, don’t hurt me! It just seemed important to consider… fuck! Ward?? Are you li- Ward? Where did you go?? Please help me out! We’ve gotta help each other! I can help you, too! It’s gotten out of hand, Ward!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐝: (𝘙𝘢𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬) It’s funny… in these moments. Young l-lady, why are peop, people your age always so h-h (coughing) hostile? Can’t you understand? Fr, freedom? Oh, my. Too soon. Too soon to… Oh, hell… (𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬: Ward?? Ward! (𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺, 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘰 𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘭- 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘥) Fuck me! Ward! We’ve got to get out of this together! We can help each other! Ward!! It’s like being inside of an explosion… Fuck! What am I supposed to… do? Can anybody hear me?? Help!! We’re trapped in here! Hello! Where is everyone?? Hellooo?

[𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘨𝘨𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘞𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳, 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥: “What’ll we do?”]