#miys

Nervously, I ran my fingers through my hair as I made my way to the Council Chamber.  A part of me was hesitant about taking on a new assistant, no matter how necessary I knew it was.  Conor and Maverick’s speculation the night before had helped me none whatsoever. Names had been tossed around, along with opinions if either had any knowledge of the person in question. This one was rude, but that one was a toady… Around and around.  They had gotten me worked into an anxious mess by the time they started naming people who weren’t even being considered.  I could barely sleep the night before, and now looked like a not-so-fresh zombie staggering quickly to my office.

When I finally got there, it was something of a reassurance that Simon looked almost as bad.  Since leaving the Council and dumping his position on me, he had practically isolated himself from everyone on the ship.  For the past three months, however, he had been filling in and helping me.  It was more social interaction than he was used to, and the signs showed clearly on his face.

“You said my new assistant has been decided?” I asked as I walked over to the food console. “Did you eat recently?”

“Yes, and no but I’m fine,” he groaned as he leaned back and stretched his back.

I rolled my eyes hard enough that I hoped he could feel it, even though I was standing off to the side. “Bullshit. You better tell me if you like sweet or savory for breakfast, or you get whatever I pick.” I looked over my shoulder to see his face.

He yawned hugely before shrugging. “Just give me one of whatever you’re going to eat. I don’t care either way.”

“Biscuits and sausage gravy, it is.”

Once we were both settled with our food, I tried again. “So, you specifically asked me to come in today because the Council decided on my new assistant.”

Mouth full, he nodded before swallowing. “Yep. And before I tell you who it is, remember – I had no say in this, whatsoever. You vetted the list, and that constituted ‘our’ vote.  Xiomara’s approval was her vote, so this was decided by Eino, Pranav, Grey, and Huynh essentially.  It took forever, by the way, to reach a unanimous decision. Seventeen applicants? What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that there were nearly a hundred before Xiomara, Derek, Tyche, and I went through them.” I gave him a pointed look as I finished of my breakfast and took a long sip of tea.

“Fine, fine,” he waved off and paused briefly. “Before I tell you who it is, we need to discuss training and integration.  You can’t just toss someone in to the deep end with something like this, Sophia.”

“I’m not an idiot, I know that.  The plan is to have them shadow Tyche so they can get familiar with the routines, specifically mine, and gradually take over from there.”

“That won’t work,” he told me bluntly, before looking sheepish and trying a different approach. “There may be a… personality conflict?” Looking away, he scratched the back of his hand.

Simon was hiding something.

I pushed a little harder, eyes narrowed. “She already agreed to do it, for all the candidates.”

“All of them?”

“Well, yeah. She was there when I went through the files.  Tyche manages work assignments, so she needed to have a head’s up of where to allocate more people. Especially considering some of the applicants – several were in essential functions.”

He tilted his head for a moment. “Yeah, some were shot down just because of that,” he conceded with a sigh. “It wasn’t that the Council had a problem with the applicant, more so with the best candidates for replacing them in their current roles.” He raised both hands in front of his face to fend of my coming protest. “Don’t get me wrong, Tyche chose the absolute best replacements for them, it’s not her fault that the options she had available were garbage. The Council is working on planning some vocational training to fix that, give us a better selection to fill those positions in the future.  It was practically a miracle that I was available to fill in for you the past few months.”

I nodded. “That’s a good idea.  Tyche wasn’t too happy with the people she had to select from, honestly.” That was a gross understatement.  She had been fuming when it came to some of the positions she tried to find candidates to fill.  There had been three applicants we had to reject, just because they were indispensable where they were, unfortunately.  The only thing that mollified my conscience was the fact that everyone on board worked to fill time, gain skills, and pull our weight.  None of us were paid, so becoming my assistant wasn’t exactly a promotion. It was just a different way to keep busy and help out.

Simon flicked a few files to my data pad. “These candidates were eliminated almost immediately. Two of them have a tendency to gossip, which means the Council wouldn’t be able to work on any projects without word getting out to the Ark. Things get twisted and turned around entirely too easily, so either person would be a damage control nightmare.” I just nodded in understanding. Derek had pointed out the gossiping tendencies, too, but hadn’t thought it was a large enough concern to eliminate anyone.

With a deep breath, my co-Councillor continued. “The rest in that group were eliminated due to either personal or personality conflicts with the rest of the Councillors or their administrators.”  Glancing through the files, I was surprised at just how many there were – how did seven different people piss off the Council that badly?  Definitely curious, I told myself.

“The last eight were all people in essential positions,” he admitted. I noticed he paused, yet again. It was unusual to say the least – Simon never grasped at his words. “Like I said before, we had to exclude a few of those, just because there was no good way to back fill their current roles. Not the way I would want this decided, but here is the winner.”

I flicked away my datapad without looking at the file. “Simon.  Is something wrong?”

A pause. Ah-ha! There it was. “With the new administrator? Not at all, why?” He blinked at me innocently.

“I don’t mean that, I mean with you. You keep pausing before you say something, and it isn’t like you. It makes me feel like you are hiding something, and you know I don’t like that. I thought you were working on that.” I was pleading, and I knew it. But at the same time, I couldn’t take any more intrigue and secrets right now.

His fact showed clearly the conflict going on inside, before he finally slashed a hand in front of him as though cutting someone off. It was not a gesture he made, and was made even stranger by the fact that I hadn’t said anything in several minutes. With both hands, he gave his face a brisk rub before looking at me guiltily. “I know that, in the past, I was really bad about not watching what I said, and it upset or offended a lot of people. There were several situations I handled incredibly poorly, including when you first woke up. So I… may?... have been running everything I was going to say by Miys and having them advise me on more diplomatic ways to say it.” He covered his face again, this time in embarrassment.

“Simon.” I equal parts touched and horrified: touched that he was trying to hard, but horrified that he felt the need to do this, even as we approached a year after his resignation from the Council. “How long has this been going on?”

“Only since I started filling in for you on the Council,” he admitted. “I isolated myself – well, pretty much all the time, to be honest. After, you know?” He waved ambiguously, but I knew he was referring to the night he explained I would be replacing him. “And that didn’t really help in the end. The entire reason I was so rude to everyone is because I spent a year with no one but Miys, and they had no concept of Terran manners at the time. To a degree, I had to be blunt with them to accomplish anything, until there were more Terrans on the Ark. And even then, you know quite a bit of our cultural niceties aren’t exactly universal.”

I thought that over for a bit. “So, you convinced Noah to be your ad-hoc speech writer and feed you appropriate manners for certain situations?”

“Maybe? Yes.  That’s pretty much what I did.  And it’s been working, honestly!” He laughed, but it sounded a little bitter. “It’s a hard pill to swallow, knowing that someone so alien to what we know is better at being human than I am.”

“For what it’s worth, Noah is a living computer and not exactly Superman,” I advised, trying to be comforting. When Simon looked confused, I explained. “I used to study comic books. You know who Superman is, right?” He nodded, so I continued. “Believe it or not, he was a really divisive character.  Sure, he was a hero, he was good, so on, so forth. Superhero stuff, in the beginning. But he was so perfect – handsome and strong, bulletproof, x-ray or heat vision, flight, and an absolute moral compass. Sounds great, right? Except for one detail, a tiny detail and yet a huge detail at the same time: this pinnacle of humanity wasn’t human.  He wasn’t even one of our gods.  He was a flat-out alien, from another planet. Sound familiar?” Simon glanced up before nodding with embarrassment. “You’re not alone, not by a long shot. Even comic book writers who were on the cusp of being the next big name would refuse to write for Superman, even if it meant stalling their career for a while.”

“I don’t hate Miys,” Simon objected.

“Oh, I know you don’t.  But it’s very normal, very human to feel how you’re feeling about needing him to tell you what to say.” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk. “Noah isn’t Superman.  They are brilliant, and have access to so much data at once that they have an advantage in this.  Add to that, Noah is sentient, not an actual computer, so they pass the Turing test every time without breaking a sweat.  But have you tried just, doing it on your own?  Pay attention to how people react, apologize if you upset them, and adjust your approach? You know, like every human ever has had to do?” I quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, dude.”

Simon glanced up at the ceiling again. “Hey, Miys.  I know you heard all that.”

“Correct,” came the flat buzz. Noah sounded a bit miffed.

“I’m sorry, dude. I’ve probably been bleeding resentment all over you for months, and you never even said anything. That’s horrible of me. You’ve been a super good friend, but I think Sophia may have a point on this one.”

A humming whine. “Simon, Wisdom is accurate in her explanation. Beyond works of entertainment, Terrans have shown the same reaction to deities in the past. There is significant historical precedent, so I was prepared for the possibility of this.  Also, I believe she is correct in regard to re-learning how to socialize with your people. Psychological studies indicate – “

“Thanks, Noah,” I interrupted.  This sounded like something they could ramble about for a while. Whether they admitted it or not, Noah did get excited about Terran psychology. “And thank you, for helping Simon for so long.  I know it couldn’t have been easy, on either of you.  You’re a good friend.”

“A pleasure, Wisdom,” they buzzed happily before turning off the communication system.

“So, try it the hard way?” I asked Simon, smiling gently.

He slid low in his chair, covering his face again. “If I have to, yes.  I can’t say I’ll do a great job, but I promise to try.” He peeked through his fingers. “Just… keep Tyche away from me for a bit? Until I get better at this?  I really don’t want her yelling at me again.”

I chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Now, let’s see who she’s going to be training.” One issue resolved, I flicked my datapad back in front of me. My eyebrows rose when I saw who my new administrator was, though I was only mildly surprised. “And this person somehow has no personal conflicts with the Council? None?”

He shook his head with a grin, relieved the topic was changed. “Being a pest doesn’t mean they can’t work with him. And honestly, it worked in his favor here. If nothing else, he showed dedication and determination.  Actually, the only person the Council was concerned he would have a conflict with is your sister.”

“And she included a letter of recommendation, if I remember right,” I muttered softly.  Clearing my throat, I spoke up a bit. “Believe it or not, she actually advocated for him when the file passed inspection.  So did Xiomara.”

“Better find those books, Sophia,” Simon leaned back and shook his head. “I think you have some crow to eat.  Hope you didn’t burn them yet.”

I stood on a platform in front of a large number of my fellow humans. The lights were dimmed, for the sake of my nerves, but I could still see several of the front rows thanks to the light from the video screens behind me. I felt like a mega-millionaire with a groundbreaking statement.

There was no form of microphone, no podium, not even a glass of water for my comfort. Everyone would still hear me, however, thanks to the Miys linking the translators.

I don’t know how long I stood in silence, trying to shake the nerves I expertly concealed. My feet were planted, my fingers woven in front my hips, shoulders back, and chin up. I appeared to be taking in the crowd. I was used to preparing any presentations. I was used to having a visual to gesture to or explain factually.

Here, I had nothing but my own history.

“Okay, Tyche. Deep breath. You know how to tell an engaging story. You can do this.” I thought to myself.

I rolled my shoulders in preparation and finally spoke.

“Thank you all for joining me. This hall has been reserved for those brave enough to share their stories of what they experienced after the End began. This is why we are here now. Many of you have met already, but for those of you who haven’t, please allow me to introduce myself.

My name is Tyche. I like dark clothes, fluffy cats, coffee, and swearing.”

A few in the audience chuckled.

“I am a very serious person when needed. When I don’t have to be so serious, I am aloof to those who don’t know me and social to those who do. A bit like a cat, I suppose.

“You may be able to hear an odd French accent when I speak. On Earth, I was born in the United States of America but worked very hard to move to Paris. I spent years learning the language before I ever boarded a plane, and my accent shifted a bit towards French from that alone. I spent several years in France, honing my pronunciation in order to better communicate with those whom I worked with. I worked in executive administration for a very large financial institution after bustin’ my ass to get a middle-level administration job working with my sister.

“A few years after I moved to Paris and began buying my flat, I was approached by a smaller company. The pay wasn’t as good and they weren’t globally known, but I had apparently chatted with a family member of the owner one day and my occupation came up. I had been recommended to help keep this company from going under after a fiasco left them with no one to run the accounts.

“I was reluctant to leave my comfortable job until I could at least straighten out this smaller company’s bookkeeping. I’ll be honest, it was a mess.

“I had drafted my letter of resignation a few nights before the Launch. I was preparing to hand it in; I just had to convince myself I would be happier this way. Everyone was buzzing about who would be leaving Earth and if we would ever see them again, so on and so forth. I knew the CEO of my financial institution was leaving, but I didn’t feel bad about it. It was a corporation, after all, run by a board of directors.  Still, I kept my poor sister up late one night as she talked me into doing what would make me happiest, even if it meant leaving the company we both worked for.

“The night came and everyone was watching the synchronized streaming of the Launch. Twelve ships. Twelve launch sites around the globe. Faster than light travel! And, of course, only the rich could afford to go.

“We saw it. We all saw it. Well, most of us. It was declared an international holiday, wasn’t it? So many of us sat around on our devices, streaming this brand-new technology being launched with paying customers, civilians, on board. It was momentous! It was historical!

“But then when the ships launched… Well, they blew up. There just isn’t any other way to describe it. The ships had been sabotaged to explode in the atmosphere at the same moment. The feeds cut right after we saw the start of the explosions and if you were outside or near a window? You probably saw the light race across the sky, rippling the air as it went. Then everything went dark.”

I paused for a moment. I could hear murmurs which I assumed were people telling their neighbors where they were when it happened.

Struggling to continue, I cleared my throat again. My vision was being overwhelmed by the past. My brain had thrown me into a visual flashback. I forced myself to narrate what I was seeing, telling my story as my brain recalled it.

I had taken my wine glass and tablet out to the balcony of my small Parisian flat. I was four levels from the ground and could see the lights of the city from where I lived. Even the Eiffel Tower could be seen here, as it twinkled in the distance. The view was everything I had worked so hard to achieve.

I was overwhelmed at that moment with the feeling I was finally, truly home. Drinking wine on my Parisian balcony at 4am was what I truly wanted. Having a fantastic job on top of that, allowing me to be relatively stress free? Absolute freedom, aside from the sound of my mother snoring in the other bedroom.  Headphones on, I listened with minor interest until the countdown began. I could hear several of my neighbors counting down as if it was the New Year, making me laugh in delight.

« Dix ! Neuf ! Huit ! Sept ! Six ! Cinq ! Quatre ! Trois ! Deux ! Un ! »

The buildings and streets erupted with cheering as the ships set off from their launchpads, ready to embark on a journey like no other. I had mixed feelings about it. Fantastic new technology is amazing, but the richest of the rich being the only civilians? I was thrilled about this new age of space travel and tried to focus on that, pressing the negative feelings to the back of my mind.

I was pondering what discoveries would be made along their journey and how long we would have to wait to find out when suddenly the crowds fell silent. The screen of my tablet was shaky for a moment before the livestream simply ended.

Something was wrong. What was that color? It only last for half a moment before the stream ended, but it looked like…. I had seen this before. It was a fireball. But there was an odd color to it. Orange and red and white, but there was something else.

Before I could put any more thought into it, a light rippled across the sky, warping any clouds in its path. It was like a shockwave of light. It was unreal and worse than that, unknown. I gazed out in the direction it went and saw everything flicker, then go black.

The City of Lights was dark.

It all happened so quickly. I’m placing my glass on my balcony table with my tablet, sitting down a few minutes before launch, and then watching everything go dark. Less than ten minutes.

A few fearful screams could be heard, but we knew sunrise was soon. There was already panic, however, as more and more people shouted to their neighbors and even strangers that their phones and flashlights weren’t working. Cars wouldn’t start, the metro rail wouldn’t move, and we saw no airplanes flash overhead. We waited for emergency vehicles. Police and firefighters. “Where are they?” we kept asking each other. No sirens, no lights, no sign of help.

As the day went on, we realized more and more things wouldn’t work. It didn’t take long for us to reach the conclusion that anything that had been powered by electricity, even batteries, was useless. Looting began around midday, taking advantage of the lack of police vehicles and security systems. It didn’t matter what the store was, it was at risk. Electronics were especially popular, as people assumed the power would be restored at some point.

We marched on the government buildings. We demanded answers! What the hell happened? When will it be fixed? Tell us!

Our officials were as baffled as we were. No one had answers, because the people who would have the answers couldn’t communicate or travel with ease to let the officials know.

“You have to wait. We have to go to our scientists. We have to go to them to find out why,”

Tension rose higher and higher. Insulin pumps had failed in the flash. Pacemakers failed as well, and families were outraged that there was no help. At any moment, people would die.

The horror struck many who had not considered how much we rely on technology to keep us alive.

“What about hospitals!” Many started shouting to no one in particular.

I remember leaving the scene, in a state of shock from the realizations, and returning to my flat. “France riots at the drop of a hat. I’m not French. I don’t want to get caught in the crossfire.” I told my cat as I stuffed a few clothes and some bread and water in a bag. I knew how cliché it was, but I also knew I wanted to pack light. I grabbed my duffel bag to shove more supplies into. Candles, matches, a book, a few knives… “Maybe more food.” A few more bottles of water and a wrapped cut of cheese really weighed it down, but I couldn’t skip nourishment. I was leaving Paris, on foot, not sure how long it would take me to get anywhere in this country. My mother refused to leave. “I’m sixty-four,” she declared like it was some great revelation. “I refuse to let some idiots run me out of my home.”

Technically, the flat was mine, in my name only, but I knew that tone and wasn’t about to try to argue.  She wanted to stay, she could stay.  I was taking Mac and getting the hell out of there. I wrapped in a thick coat and two scarves, put on my good boots, and then clipped the walking harness around the cat before remembering my passport. Just in case.

The click of the door behind me was heartbreaking. Was I ever going to come back? Would life restore itself in a few days? My feeling in my gut said no. It said the flash was catastrophic. It said to not get my hopes up.

“At least there’s still enough Arkansas in me to be able to navigate with the sun and stars,” I told my upset feline companion. He just squawked at me plaintively.

I headed south, toward the country. I’d go south for as long as I could.

I lost count of how many days it had been by the time I reached a small village in smelling-distance of the salty ocean. There had been no power anywhere. I had been able to stop here and there, begging people for a bit of food, just enough to make it another day. Everyone was scared of strangers. That wasn’t the French way, but this new reality made everyone paranoid. We’ve all seen those films.

The last town name I could remember is Millau. I ended up somewhere past that. A kind woman named Sandrine said she saw the flash and had been worried criminals would come.

“I’m too exhausted to hurt anyone who isn’t trying to hurt me,” I told her. I had seen very few people along my trek, but none of them seemed to think the lady with the leashed cat was worth bothering.

Sandrine offered me shelter and food from the gardens that were popular there. Aside from the candles and oil lanterns everywhere, it was hard to imagine that life here ever had electricity. It was peaceful and still very organized. The adults would speak in hushed voices. Theorizing what had happened, but no one could agree on one answer.

I stayed there for several months, never finding out what the source of the seemingly-permanent blackout was. Things were going well. This small village was rustic enough to function with little issue the entire time I was there.

Suddenly, it all came to an end. We had seen smoke off in the distance for a few days, but when we woke one morning, it was to the sound of screaming and panicking. The fire had spread overnight thanks to rough winds. It was engulfing the village.

I never want to see that again. So many people couldn’t escape. Many had been asleep when the fire took them. The sight of it was too horrific. Sandrine told me to take one of her horses and go. She would be close behind. Since I never unpacked all of my things, I grabbed my bags and rushed toward the horse pen. I was shaking as I dressed one of the horses, but managed to get everything cinched up. I ran for another saddle and bit when her house collapsed. A tree nearby, weakened by drought, had caught fire and fallen. Sandrine was inside.

I hate feeling helpless. I fought so much in my lifetime to that point so that I would be stronger, more capable, but in that moment, I knew I was helpless against a burning home. And I was terrified beyond screaming. In panicked silence, I mounted the horse and took off to the east.

This repeated for years. Find some people to huddle down with, something would destroy our home, we’d all take off in different directions for safety. Lather, rinse, repeat. The longer it went on, the more hopeless we felt. Many gave up. Many stopped caring. Many begged “why,” even though we had no way of truly knowing what caused all of this.

Sure, we saw the ships explode, very briefly, before everything went down. Around many fires we would discuss what this meant on the global scale. Nuclear reactors, medical necessities, agriculture… How long could we keep going, when everything we knew before was so tech-heavy?

After a handful of years, I quit trying to make allies. I was tired of seeing them die. I went off on my own to try to live like a hermit. I wanted isolation. I knew I could find it if I went back to one of the destroyed villages in the mountains. I knew I could stay there for a while, since I had learned how to scavenge for food and make minimal supplies last.

What I didn’t know is that I would get too comfortable in my solitude. I didn’t know that when approached by some fool stronger than myself, I would panic. He was bigger than I am, and the look in his eyes was one of true insanity. He rushed at me. All I could do was try to lose him in the woods I spent years casually learning, leaping over fallen trees and ducking under low-hung branches. This man…this man somehow kept up with me. He cornered me at a cliff, one that looked as if it overhung a flooded quarry.

I’m small. I’m perceived to be female. And I was alone with this terrifying man who’s lost his mind. I was not going to risk finding out what he wanted. Maybe to kill and eat me. Maybe worse. I wasn’t going to find out.

So, I flung myself, arms spread like wings, over the edge of the cliff, expecting death.

Instead, I woke up on this ship. I woke up with a few injuries from the chase, severe malnutrition, and a ringing in my ears.

Simon was there, and though we got off to a very rough start, he helped me by explaining the Ark and the Miys. He did have to sedate me a couple times, as violent as I was trying to be. He helped me get settled onto the ship and understand what the Miys were here. Simon was the first human I met here. And while he is, erm, awkward, I will say it was nice to see someone who hadn’t been through what we had.

A few people clapped, sensing that I had wrapped up my story. I snapped back into reality and wondered how long I had monologued, a bit embarrassed. I took another deep breath. Time to truly wrap myself up.

“Thank you for being here and being patient enough to listen to me go on. I hadn’t put much thought into how much I would share, to be honest. We all went through a lot. That’s why we share. Through our experiences, we can feel more comfortable with those around us. Hopefully, sharing my story will help show that I am an entire person, not just someone who tells you where to go and what to do. Again, thank you.” I found my way off the stage area as I tried not to cry. There were reasons I put this off for so long, and my caretaker was about to find out first hand what I am like when I break down. I needed to find him.

Conor quickly became a regular to join me and Tyche at least once a week for dinner.  We would coax ever more delicious dishes out of the console (Tyche insisted on calling it a ‘replicator’ just to see the face I made), and Conor would entertain us with his enthusiasm and stories from aeroponics.  Stories about interactions with the Miys were frequently included, from all three of us; mercifully, the Miys refrained from overtly butting in to our weekly ‘family’ dinners.  I strongly suspected that they were still running commentary in my sister’s head, however, because she would sometimes give a delayed smirk to a story someone shared.

Any concerns my sister had that some sort of romantic or hormonal attachment would develop between myself and Conor vanished a month to the day after she first met him. That particular night, I was surprised by someone paging for entry into my quarters just as our regular trio had decided on what to eat.  Surprise became confusion when I saw who it was: while Arantxa had been unfailingly polite upon our initial meeting, her quick exit had left the impression that she was simply having mercy upon someone who just arrived on the ship.  I granted her access, nevertheless, and she breezed past me with a nod as soon as the door opened.  Catching sight of Tyche, who had stopped by for a chat, she paused before turning to me.

“I knew you looked somewhat familiar,” she started before shaking her head with a disapproving noise. “Although, knowing this now, I am not entirely sure why Tyche could not have been asked to do this.”

“Do what?” I asked, utterly perplexed.  A glance at my sister showed she was also confused.

“You two know each other?” Tyche asked.

“Somewhat,” I answered. “When I went to the mess for the first time, she introduced me to Conor.”

“Ah,” my sister caught on. “Well, Arantxa and I work together, sort of.  She must be here for your official task assignment and orientation.” Tyche arched a brow, fearless of the inevitable grumbling from overhead. “Attaché?” The last was clearly directed at Arantxa, who gave a curt nod before turning to me.

“Indeed, I am to be your assistant, Sophia,” Arantxa directed at me.

My eyebrows flew upward like birds taking flight. “Excuse me? Why do I need an assitant?”

Arantxa opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Tyche’s hand on her shoulder. “Each member of the Council has an attaché for day-to-day things.” She waved a hand off to the side before continuing. “Until – well, now I guess – Arantxa has been filling in as needed. You know, when people are sick or whatever. Apparently, she is being assigned as your designated assistant.  You’re actually pretty lucky, mon soeur; she’s very good at what she does, and won’t hesitate to tell someone to ‘fuck off’ if needed.”

The subject of this statement scowled. “I would never use such vulgarity, Tyche.”

“Exactly,” my sister announced triumphantly. “Whereas I would. Which would upset Soph, so it’s probably a good idea that I am not her assistant.  Besides, we look too much alike.  Can you imagine how many people will see just a photoscan of her face and assume I am her? Too many, no thank you.”

“Wait,” Conor sputtered with his usual aplomb. “You’re on the Council, Sophie?”

Arantxa tipped her head to one side, then another, utterly oblivious to the gob-smacked Irishman before apparently conceding my sister’s point.  Before the conversation could continue, I waved my hands to get their attention.

“Whoa,” I huffed. “Leadership council. Explain, please.”

“You didn’t know!?” came the next articulate blurt.

After a glance, Tyche and Arantxa apparently decided that my new assistant should field this question. “The Miys advised you would be expected to help lead, yes?” Once I nodded, Arantxa continued. “This means you are part of the Leadership Council. You are not solitary leader of anyone, as we collectively decided as soon as we were able to that a single leader would not be sufficient. All governmental models with one leader inevitably failed prior to the institution of the Global Parliament.  You will simply be a voice for the people you represent.”

Oh bloody hell, I’m being made a politician. Nuggets, I thought viciously.

“Aww, you’ll be good at that, Sophie! Yer a great listener, and ya really pay attention, I can tell.”

Instead of staring at the women who dropped a bombshell on me, I pivoted my head and arched an eyebrow of utter confusion at Conor, not wanting to risk a one-syllable grunt of inquiry.  He clarified “You always get me red wine without asking, even though you and yer sister hate it.  When Sam and Derek stop by, you tell Derek where Mac is and wait for him to interact with you first after that. But yer always excited when you talk to Sam, even if you were just draggin’ ass before you open the door.  And you take everythin’ Sam tells you as serious as the blessed Pope.  I never know half what he’s tellin’ you, but you always seem to understand. And – “

Tyche held her hand up to stop him finally. “Thank you, Conor. Soph, he has a point, ineloquent as it is.  Listening to people and trying to address their concerns is just what you do.  You mirror exceptionally well, and are assertive or passive depending on the situation.  You’ll do really well.”

“I get what you’re saying, but Tyche! You and the Miys both told me I would help lead. Not that I would be an actual leader.  I thought I would… I dunno, teach, review proposed policies, or something.  Being on a ‘leadership council’ was never mentioned.”

Another glance between the administrators, then suddenly both women shouted in unison. “SI-MON!”

Instead of the accused in question, the voice of the Miys filled the room. “Simon is currently occupied, but I am en route as Noah to collect him.” I couldn’t prevent the small smile that snuck onto my face at the Miys’ concession to refer to my preferred avatar as Noah, which it had capitulated on when I promised to only call that particular body by that name.

“Who the feck is Noah?” Conor screwed up his face in confusion.

“Somehow, Soph can tell the Miys’ bodies apart.  No clue how. She’s never had trouble with twins, either.”

A shrug from my sister was joined by a head-tilt from Arantxa.  “You truly do pay attention, Conor was not exaggerating.”  

Interestingly, the Irishman blushed furiously and rubbed his neck with one hand before clearing his throat.  “While we wait, Arantxa, we were about to eat.  Would you like to join us? At least have a drink.”  Oh lord, he has a crush on her!

Shaking her head, she attempted to decline the offer. “I do not drink while I am on duty – “

Tyche made a gesture of dismissal, unperturbed by him just inviting a guest to my quarters without asking; I suspected she came to the same conclusion I did. “You arrived while we are off duty for family dinner, and you’ve been invited.  I know full well it is outside of your scheduled shift: Beta commenced an hour and a half ago.  Red wine, right?  We’re having crawfish etouffee tonight.”

Arantxa relented just as Conor returned with her wine, having jumped up the second Tyche mentioned a preference for red wine.  “I have never had this dish,” she conceded before taking a seat. “However, I am reluctant to interrupt your…. ‘family’ dinner, as you called it.”

Sitting up as straight as I could, I clasped my hands before me, leaning forward slightly. “Arantxa, I don’t know how much you know about mine and my sister’s culture, but it is incredibly rude to decline a non-romantic invitation to dinner, provided it is not an open ended and standing invitation, which this is currently not.” With that said, I relaxed and took a sip of my sauvignon blanc and shrugged. “Besides, yelling at people is always better when you have a full stomach to fuel you. Etouffee is quite spicy, I think you’ll like it.  You said you are Basque, correct?”

This began an informal ‘get to know you’ conversation – my favorite way to learn about employees – and I kept careful eye on Conor to see that he was absorbing everything like a sponge, his usual verbosity noticeably gone.  My guess had been correct: she was delighted by the etouffee.  I learned that Arantxa was previously an adjunct to the Spanish Ambassador to the World Parliament, hence her habitually formal demeanor. She spoke several dialects of Spanish, in addition to French and her native Euskara – which explained the comment about her language dying.

All in all, it took nearly an hour for Noah and Simon to reach my quarters, by which point tempers had cooled considerably.  When the signal at the door chimed, Arantxa indicated that I remain seated (“To establish from the outset that it is you and Tyche in charge”) while she greeted the new arrivals, apparently relaxed and carrying her glass of cabernet. With her usual calm, she greeted the Miys politely, and then Simon.

At which point, without batting an eyelash, she took a sip of her wine and promptly tossed the rest in his face.  While the three of us still at the table were fighting to suppress cheers and laughter, she merely tsked and shook her head. “Such a shame. I was quite enjoying that,” was all she had to say as she left Simon shouting and sputtering in the entryway.

As she took her seat again, with a refill courtesy of Conor, Simon broke out of his shock long enough to barge up to the table. “What was that for?!” he cried.  “Sophia, please tell me this is not about when you first arrived.  That was months ago!”

Carefully composing my face, I gestured for him to come around the table so I could see him.  As he moved to stand uncomfortably next to my sister, Tyche mouthed “power move” in approval.

“No, Simon,” I assured him. “This is not about what you did nearly four months ago.”  He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “This is more about what you did not do.  Apparently, when it was decided that, instead of just teaching, I was going to be on the thrice-damned Leadership Council, you were the one tasked with providing me this information. Which I never received, by the way.”

Simon paled slightly before smacking his face with both hands. “Aww, nuts. I knew I was forgetting something.” Before anyone at the table could respond, Simon held up both hands in a pleading gesture. “I am very, truly sorry. I really am. I just.” He puffed out a sigh. “I got so used to being the only Terran on the ship, and used to the Miys remembering everything for me, that I have really gotten bad at keeping everything straight.  That’s actually why your assignment was changed to be on the Council, Sophia.”

Alarmingly, all three of my dinner companions looked shocked at this information.  Sensing my confusion, Noah placed a hand on my shoulder. “Tyche mentioned before that she suspected that Simon arrived on the ship very early on. This is truer than you could have anticipated: we expected to greet humanity as you joined the intergalactic community.  Instead, your entire world was plunged into darkness.  We did not have the resources at the time to collect survivors; instead, we brought Simon on board and returned to our homeworld to prepare a rescue mission.”

“Even then I had to stay in the airlock the entire trip,” the subject of this explanation muttered. “Anyway, they took me home, brought me back on the Ark. Sophia, the position you are being assigned to on the Leadership Council is the one I currently am holding.  I’m stepping down.”

“Wait, you’re on the Leadership Council?” I could not keep the disbelief out of my voice.

Along with him, Arantxa, Tyche, and Conor also nodded to confirm this. Simon waved a hand at his chest, indicating himself. “I wasn’t always like this, you know. But a year subjective time, alone, with a telepathic hive mind tends to mess with your social skills.”

“Simon – “ I started, a hint of mourning in my voice.

He cut me off before I could continue, “Finding out that my year was actually a decade was even worse.  Seeing what happened to my home while I was gone is something I haven’t had time to recover from. I’ve just kept on keeping-on.  But your sister really made me think about the mistakes I’ve made.  It hasn’t been just you, I’ve made entirely too many mistakes recently.  I know I’m a laughingstock, I’m not an idiot, despite how I’ve behaved.  On top of that, how am I supposed to lead people who have been through something I can’t even imagine and really? Don’t want to imagine, honestly.”

Clearing his throat, Conor broke the ensuing silence. “What are you going to do now, mate?”

“Review the data the Miys have collected so far on the condition of the colonists.  I may not want to try to imagine what has happened, but I can’t be of any use unless I know at least what impacts it had on everyone, both physically and psychologically.” Before Tyche or I could object, he held up a hand, similar to the gesture I used to interrupt my sister earlier. “Not you two, and not Derek or Sam.  Not anyone I personally greeted when they arrived on board. Overall statistical information, and case files on anyone I don’t know personally, with names redacted.  I’m not going to invade your privacy, ladies.”

Mollified, Tyche let out a sigh. “Okay.  I guess we can’t really yell at you when you recognized what you did even before we did that you were falling down on the job.  You already took action to correct it, by standing down from the Council and making Soph your replacement – even if you did screw that up, too.”

Simon nodded in thanks. “With that, I will leave you to your evening.”  Before he could go, Arantxa cleared her throat and gave him an expectant look. “OH! Right. Sorry.  Almost muffed that, too.”  He reached under his collar and lifted what appeared to be a pendant from around his neck before handing it to her.

“Thank you,” she said smoothly.  “I’ll take it from here.”