The door opened.

"Ser Max," Davit said, his eyes blinking as if they adjusted to bright light. "‘tis a pleasant surprise. Please, come in."

"Thank you, ser," Max replied, but he did not enter. "Is there anything I can help you with?", he asked.

"What kind of question is that," Davit laughed. "You don’t have to offer me anything in return for my services, if that’s what you’re thinking."

Max looked awkwardly. "It is just that I have off time until my companion returns. I am looking for work."

"Oh no, can’t be idle, can we," Davit smirked. "Come, come in," he said, reaching out to Max’ shoulder and urging him to step through the lavishly decorated doorpost that marked the entrance to his apartment. Contrasting to the white of Max’ pavilion, the interior was dark. Its walls were decorated with carved panels of black wood, illuminated sparsely by colored hanging lamps.

Max took a moment to observe another elaborate paint job of a doorpost, but failed to translate the script that had been used to decorate it. Davit led him into a salon and invited him to sit down on a couch. "Want a drink?", he asked.

Max declined and looked around the room. More wood carvings and a substantial collection of colorful figurines lined the walls. He could discern the faint but pungent smell of unknown chemicals. Finally, he sat down on one of the red couches, looking lost.

"Man, I thought I was bad. They really did a poor job socializing you, didn’t they?", Davit remarked.

Max shrugged. "My duties on my homeworld did not require these skills." He thought, attempting to find a topic of interest to discuss. "Ser Davit," he asked in a direct manner, "could you tell me why mindprobes are restricted on this world? At my colony, I could procure them without issue."

"‘Tis because of the Exalted," Davit mumbled, yet his words were clear. Glancing up and realizing Max did not understand, he continued. "The Exalted, they have developed conditioning programs that make them behave more in line with the Faith’s principles and inhibit them from performing sinful acts. While admirable, there is great concern that people perform increasingly strict conditioning on themselves. Especially after troublesome life events or under social pressure from friends and relatives. So to prevent misuse, such conditioning is now only permissible after passing an evaluation by Equanimity. Still, some desperate people travel to other worlds to have it done." He sighed audibly.

Max thought how to reply tactfully, then decided to keep quiet, as his original question was answered. Once again, the room was silent. Davit observed him.

"You know," Davit said, "You should find a hobby."

"A hobby?" Max asked with curiosity.

"Yeah. Something semi-constructive to do to pass your, heh, off hours. Something you find enjoyable."

"I am conditioned to find work enjoyable. But I often feel my fellow colonists want to discourage me from working. What hobby do you have?" Max asked.

"Well, I like my job too. Unfortunately, my services are not often called upon. So I have time for three hobbies. Gaming, woodcraft, and collecting Pashi-dolls. Come, look."

Max got up and was led to a shelf of brightly colored figurines. He saw the heavily stylized shapes of humans, but also of various alien races.

"I collect these," Davit said. "There are several ways to obtain them, and then you trade them until you get certain combinations and turn them in for rarer ones." He took a large sparkling green figure off the shelf. "The Emerald Queen," he said with pride. "She is extremely rare, it took me over a thousand years!" Putting the figurine back, he pointed at a silver winged creature, decorated with elaborate filigree and sapphires. "I also got one of the Heruwer’s royal guards!"

Max did not understand what the rare figurines were representing, but as he observed the loaded shelves, he could discern a simple pattern. As rarity increased, so did the size and material of the figurines. The smallest ones were fashioned out of plain colored polymer with cloth ornaments, while the two rare figurines stood four times the size and were covered in tiny artificial gemstones.

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Davit opened the cupboard under the shelf. Hundreds of even smaller Pashi-dolls lay organized in baskets. He took a basket and held it out to Max.

"Go on, pick one, heh."

Max was intrigued. "Do you have any from Flow?", he asked.

"Yeah," Davit said, returning the basket and dropping to his knees, rummaging through the cupboard. He pulled out a slightly larger gray figurine with yellow stripes. "Here, a Flow Schedule Master."

Max accepted it. The figure’s proportions were exaggerated, with an enlarged head and simple rounded hands, but it was clearly identifiable. He smiled briefly, then expressed worry.

"I cannot take this home, can I?", he asked.

"Oh yes you can," Davit laughed. "Pashi-dolls are transferable."

"How?", Max asked.

"Come, I will show you," Davit said, leading Max to the adjacent room. "Sorry about the mess," he said, laughing. The floor of one end of the chamber was covered in sawdust and curled wood chips, with tools and partially finished objects scattered over a workbench. The smell he had picked up earlier was noticeably stronger here, and Max could see its source: Rows of bottles and vials containing various oils, pigments, and lacquers. The other side of the room held a mysterious octagonal low table with a glowing purple dome in the center. More baskets containing small, undesirable Pashi-dolls lay strewn around it.

"Here, put it in here," Davit said while shoving a basket out of the way with his feet. The table started glowing with colored symbols and the purple dome opened, revealing an orifice. Max placed the figure inside, and the dome closed, resuming its purple pulsing.

Davit placed his hands on one end of the table and invited Max to do the same.

To Max’s surprise, the table requested all kinds of permissions. Max approved, and an interface appeared in his mind. He felt welcomed into the Pashi-doll community and was given an account. Then he received a notification of the pending transfer. Max understood. The Pashi-dolls were not just physical objects, they each contained a unique cryptographic token that bound them to a specific person. Max accepted, and watched how the physical Pashi-doll locked in the table was destroyed and became a virtual object associated with his account. The Pashi-doll platform would recreate its physical form on Messier 39, already scheduling a job at the local factory. Even for the most elaborate figurines, the production cost was negligible.

Max observed Davit through the augmented reality interface and saw he was of high status in the community, having many notable accomplishments. Davit smiled awkwardly in embarrassment, then pulled away from the table.

Despite acknowledging that the figurine was meaningless, Max felt happy. He browsed the virtual catalog that listed all the figurines. While many were unknown to him, he could make out some other service department representatives. He imagined collecting all the Flow figurines, and thought about what he wanted next. A Compliance Enforcer, he finally decided on, although the process of obtaining one would take many years…

Davit’s laugh pulled Max out of his daydreaming, causing him to release the table. The augmented reality overlay disappeared from his mind. "Looks like you found your hobby," Davit smirked.

"It is very compelling, I must admit," Max replied. "Yet, it is also very distracting. It might hinder me in my duties."

"Life is not all about duty, mate," Davit said. "All sunshine makes a desert."

"What of your faith," Max asked.

"Heh, what of it?", Davit shrugged. "Sure, I recite the customary prayers out of habit, but…" He thought for a moment. "Here," he said, leading Max back to the doorway, showing the intricately painted symbols. "These are texts from the scriptures of my faith."

"It must have been a lot of work to render them in such detail," Max observed.

"Yeah. You know why I have them on my doorposts?"

"Because your God commands it?", Max ventured.

"No…" Davit said with a wry smile. "It is because my parents had these exact same decorations in their house. I liked my parents. And their house."

"If not for faith, then why do you work at all?"

"Because I really like my job. I used to be a computer scientist, before the Providers came. All this advanced technology, it is really interesting. Now people’s minds are pretty much the same as all the software I used to optimize. Just more complex."

"I see," Max said.

"You know, the baseline human brain is actually quite terrible at adapting to new circumstances. Most humans just want to perpetuate the exact same conditions in which they grew up and thrived. They repeat the same behavior. Keep pursuing the first thing that latches on to their mind and react quite badly to change afterward. Like this," he said while running his fingers across the doorpost. "I just wanted it to look like mommy’s home. No faith or creativity, just banality, mate."

Max was silent, as he reflected on his own condition. Was he really all that different? After all, he was still clinging to his former life as a Flow contractor.

A notification appeared in his mind. Ervin had returned to the estate. Max thanked Davit for his time and the figurine, and made efforts to leave.