Inti’s Watcher, Group Area 27
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Marie woke up, not remembering falling asleep. She looked around, noticing she was in a new room.
The walls were a light cream color, not white. Other than that, there wasn’t any real difference from the last room she’d woken up in.
Part of the wall went up, and a black metal bird hopped in. “Hello,” it said.
Marie sat up, stretching her back. She watched the bird for a few seconds before replying. “Good morning.”
“I am Nop, your group’s personal assistant. If you need anything or have any questions, feel free to ask me,” the bird said.
Marie watched it a few seconds more. “Thank you.”
“You may have noticed your change in location,” Nop said. “You are now in your permanent home! You will not be allowed to leave this area until after your first contest, to give you time to familiarize yourself with your team and the basic level of technology.”
“Contests are every Friday, aye?” Marie asked. “What day is it?”
“Yes, and today is Tuesday,” Nop said, her head bobbing. Marie didn’t know why, but she presumed Nop was a female.
“Are you a…”
The bird hopped. “I am a rostari, speaking and seeing through this fake raven. I’m the assistant to five contestant groups, in control of most things relating to your Group Area.”
Marie didn’t feel like a reply was necessary. She got slowly to her feet, looking for her weapons. They were on a wooden chair in the corner.
“You have been given the Default Bedroom,” Nop said. “Would you like any other furniture, or to change the color of the walls? You may always request these things later.”
The room had a bed, chair, and nightstand. Marie rubbed her hip, thinking.
“A desk?” she tried.
The bird turned, facing the wall. It opened its beak, and light came out. Marie’s eyebrows went up as the picture of a desk appeared on the wall.
“This is a basic desk, with two drawers. Is that what you would like?” Nop asked.
“Yes, that’s fine,” Marie said.
The picture vanished. “It will be delivered within 24 hours. Anything else?”
“Something to hang things on?”
A picture of a hat rack appeared. “Is this what you’re looking for?” Nop asked.
“Yes. Thank you.”
The picture blinked away. “It will be delivered with the desk. Anything else?”
Marie shook her head. “Not yet.”
“Very well.” Nop hopped to the corner, where a section of the wall pulled back. “Your bathroom is here. You share it with Sophie Cadbury. Everything blue-green is yours, and everything red-orange is hers.”
Marie looked in, then smiled at the bird. “You’ve got that backwards.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You’ve given a pirate and a cat burglar a shared space. She’s going to steal what’s mine and I’ll take everything that’s hers,” she said. “It’s nice you tried to make a distinction, but it’ll be completely mixed up come Sunday.”
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Razan looked through all the “simple meal” options, impressed with the variety. He was tempted to order ramen for every meal, but knew he’d get tired of that eventually.
Instead he ordered ramen for dinner, and bento for lunch.
The “food week” went from Sunday, the day to order everything, to Thursday. Friday was the contest day; meals were provided there if necessary. Saturday was a day for eating in the Common Area or else cooking for yourself. Razan would prefer cooking for himself.
“I’ll admit,” Sophie said slowly, “I don’t know what most of these things are.”
“Neither do I,” Peter said cheerfully. “I’m gonna try one of everything. Want to experiment with me?”
Sophie gave him a bright smile. “Certainly! Should we order the same thing at the same time, or two different dishes and split everything?”
Razan rolled his eyes, scrolling through the individual ingredients list for rice.
“If something’s delicious, we won’t want to share,” Peter pointed out.
Sophie nodded. “Yes, but if something’s vile we won’t have to go hungry.”
He pointed to the kitchen. “There’s bread and eggs. We won’t starve.”
“True. Especially if we buy some tinned beans or something.”
Peter looked at Razan. “What did you order, Miyamoto? Something Japanese?”
“Yes,” he answered. “Bento and ramen.”
They focused on their menus, scrolling through.
“There’s only two varieties of each,” Sophie said. “Is that all you got for six meals?”
Razan shrugged. “I know what I like.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Peter said.
Marie came out of her room, not carrying weapons for the first time. Razan bowed to her as the other two said good morning.
“There’s chocolate and toast for you on the counter,” Sophie told her, pointing.
“Thank you,” Marie said. She got a cup of the horrid stuff and walked back to the table, sitting between Sophie and Razan. “Cards down. I was a pirate. My ship was sunk by a Spanish naval ship. I would have died by drowning.” She looked at Sophie. “You?”
The girl fidgeted. “I… am a thief. I was… stealing a lady’s jewelry, and was almost caught. I wasn’t! She never saw me, but the windowsill broke when I dropped out of sight, and I fell. I… It was a long fall.” She glanced around the table. “That’s it.”
Marie nodded, and looked at Razan. “You?”
He sat up straight. “I am a samurai; raised to be one since the day I turned six years old. I was taking a meditative hike up a volcano when an earthquake struck, and I was thrown into the caldera.”
Marie frowned at him. “A meditative hike?”
“Yes.”
“What were you really doing up there?”
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He felt her eyes bore through him. “I was… disposing of sweet potatoes.”
“Sweet potatoes?”
“Yes.”
Sophie held up a hand. “You were throwing sweet potatoes into a volcano?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” she laughed.
Razan frowned. “I hate them. I truly hate them.”
Marie smirked, her eyebrows raised. “I can’t fault a man for his tastes.” She looked at Peter, her smirk fading. “You.”
Peter smiled brightly. “I miscalculated the amount of water to take on a walk through the desert. Easy mistake.”
“No.”
His smile lost some brilliance. “I was in the desert. Walking. Without any water. That’s all there is to it.”
“Why were you walking in the desert without water?” Marie asked.
“I forgot-”
“Chilango.”
Razan didn’t know what the word meant, but it stopped Peter dead. His smile turned to a glare.
“I’m Texan,” Peter said through clenched teeth. “I was born in Texas. I fought in the United States army, and-”
“And your parents only spoke Spanish,” Marie interrupted, her voice flat. “Or at least that was your first language.”
“I’m not Mexican,” he growled.
“You knew my name,” Marie said thoughtfully, leaning back in her chair. “You knew what I sold. Oh, you weren’t just a soldier; you were a spy. Weren’t you? No one trusts a spy. Especially not the people who hire them.”
Peter continued glaring.
Marie looked at Razan. “I presume you’re not familiar with Mexican politics?”
Razan shook his head.
“When Peter here was… ten?” She paused, raising her eyebrows at him. Peter nodded, and she continued. “The little patch of land he was born on decided to be its own country called Texas. The country it used to belong to, Mexico, didn’t like that. The US of A didn’t like it either, mostly because it wanted Texas for itself. So it dumped a bunch of white people into the area, and they called themselves Texans, too. The difference was, they spoke English, while all the Mexicans spoke Spanish. Five years ago, Texas decided it was fine belonging to the US of A. Mexico very much did not like that, and four years ago a war started. Mexico didn’t have enough guns, so it bought them from anywhere it could get them. Like pirates, one of those pirates being yours truly. Two years ago, the white people won the war. Which would be fine, except Peter…” She flicked the hat off his head, revealing straight black hair. “...Isn’t white. The US of A is still a bit scared Texas will decide to be independent again, and then eventually go back to being Mexican, so Mexican-Texans are seen as potential traitors by the government, and that sentiment filters down into general distrust by white Texans.”
Peter picked his hat off the floor. “I was a ranch hand before and after the war. Discharged from the US army simply because the war was over. Someone told the ranch owner I’d served in the Mexican army, which technically was true, and instead of killing me they sent me on my way. To die on my own.”
Sophie stared at him. “So you were a spy?”
Peter nodded reluctantly. “For a bit. At heart I’m just a cowboy.”
Razan frowned slightly. He wasn’t sure how he felt about sharing a washroom with a spy.
Marie turned to Sophie, who was about to ask a thousand questions. “Why do you steal?”
“How- Oh. It’s fun,” the girl shrugged. “Exciting. Why did you become a pirate?”
“It was a reward for killing slavers and taking control of their ship,” Marie told her. Before anyone could ask her to elaborate, she looked at Razan. “What is a samurai?”
Razan blinked, then sat up straight. His time had come.
----------------------------------------
Sophie watched her door close, then looked up. “Is there a way to lock the door?”
A small section of the wall went up, and the metallic raven hopped out. “The door cannot be opened by anyone but you. It is the same with the bathroom doors.”
“Thank you,” Sophie said. “Is there a way to lock the door?”
Nop sighed. “It is not necessary to-”
“Is there a way or not?”
“You cannot lock your door,” Nop said patiently. “However, if you put something in the crease above it, it will refuse to open.”
“Thank you.” Sophie got a toothbrush from the bathroom and jammed it into the crease.
Her door secure, she looked around. There was a small door for the bird, and a bathroom door. But there were more creases. Leaning down, she found a small, long door under her bed.
“What does that one do?” she asked
Nop hopped over to her. “That is the door for a floor-cleaning device.”
“May I see it?”
“No.”
Sophie looked at the raven. “Does the jamming trick work on all the doors?”
“The floor cleaner is currently working on a different part of the ship,” Nop said.
The unanswered question was a yes, then. Nodding, Sophie sat up. She looked around, pointing to a big door opposite her bedroom door.
“What’s that?”
“That is the maintenance door,” Nop said. “It is used to deliver furniture and such.”
“May I open it?”
“No.”
Next she pointed to a small door by the ceiling. “That?”
“That is used for dispensing the gas that puts humans to sleep.”
“I see,” Sophie said, wondering if she could reach it if she stood on the chair.
Nop hopped to her bed. “I would not recommend blocking it. We have other ways of rendering humans unconscious, but they are very unpleasant for you.”
“Understood,” Sophie said quickly. She looked up, pointing at a grate in the ceiling. “What’s that?”
“Ventilation. You can’t breathe in space. As such, the air here is constantly circulated, changing bad for good.”
“Is the air in the maintenance area good air?” she asked.
“For humans, yes. For everything not born on Earth, no.”
Sophie blinked. “What do you mean?”
Nop settled down. “Humans breathe a highly corrosive gas called ‘oxygen’. In great quantities, such as the amount found in Earth’s atmosphere, it is lethal to about 80% of known species. Honestly, it’s a miracle life survives on your planet at all.”
“Interesting.” She spotted a crease in the top corner of the room and pointed. “What’s that?”
“That is… a watching device.” Nop sounded hesitant, like she wasn’t sure how Sophie would react.
Sophie looked at the crease. “How many people know it’s there?”
“Me, my superiors, the-”
“No, how many humans know they’re being watched in their sleep?”
Nop paused. “Close to one in ten. We imply that we exclusively use birds to watch humans, and with your technology level, hardly any think we might have other syomis around. Few ask, and you are only the fourth human to ask about ceiling creases.”
“Syomis?”
“Watching/listening device.”
“Ah.”
Seeing no other doors, Sophie sat cross-legged on the bed and emptied her purse. She organized all the jewelry, then emptied her pockets.
“How much is all this worth?” she asked Nop.
“All together? Right now?” There was a pause as the bird went still, eyes scanning the gems. “We’d be willing to offer one million credits for the lot.”
Sophie thought that over. She picked up the bird and walked to the bathroom. Going straight to the door opposite hers, she knocked.
After a few seconds it was opened by a surprised Marie.
“You know how to barter and sell things, right?” Sophie asked.
“I do,” the older woman answered.
Sophie motioned for Marie to follow, and led her to the pile of jewelry. “Nop says all together, right now, this is worth one million credits.”
Marie stared, her eyebrows as high as they could get. “Did you steal from a queen?” she asked softly, touching a huge emerald pendant.
“Countess,” Sophie said, trying to shrug casually.
Marie’s sharp eyes locked on hers for a second, then she looked back at the gems. “If they’re worth one million as a group, sold individually they’re worth more. Don’t sell any until after we learn what we might need credits for.”
Sophie nodded. “Is there an order I should sell them in?”
“No,” Marie said slowly. “No, I don’t think that would matter. If I were you, I’d hide the bracelets away in odd places. Having something small and valuable tucked away in case of emergency is always a good idea. Sell everything else if you like, but keep the bracelets.”
“I knew you’d be a good person to ask,” Sophie said happily.
Marie’s gaze stayed on the emerald. “You don’t care about selling things or collecting them, do you? You just like the thrill of stealing.”
“The life of a Proper Lady is very boring,” Sophie said. “I didn’t need to steal for money; I would have given everything back if they’d caught me.”
“You would have been imprisoned.”
“And that would have been an adventure.”
Marie gave her a flat look.
“Would you like a necklace?” Sophie asked, smiling. “As you said, I don’t care about collecting them, and I’d feel bad being exceptionally rich while the rest of the group had to save for weeks to buy something. That’d make us less likely to win, too.”
Slowly, Marie picked up the emerald pendant, her fingers running under its heavy gold chain. “Thank you.”
“It’s nothing,” Sophie said, then pointed to her door. “By the way, I’m using your toothbrush as a lock, I hope you don’t mind.”
Marie smiled, sliding the chain over her head. “As long as you give it back.”