Top Posts Tagged with #prof lea

1/3

I've long since become accustomed to arriving early, and leaving late. The hallways devoid of staff or students during the hours of dusk and dawn. Not that I don't ever stray from the confines of the Astrophysics and Earth Sciences floor now and again, I just don't do it often. When I do, it's always either the library or the cafeteria, that is unless it's Prof Lea dragging me someplace else by the collar of my coat against my will. She hasn't done that lately... Her usual pestering has abruptly ended with an air malice I'm only now beginning to pick up on during our conversations. She's mad at me. That much I can tell, what for I can confidently pin upon a folly I assumed to be resolved. I was incorrect. Months back, during the usual discussions of budgets, I'd brought up that, despite Djävulen having a single, lone biologist, for about three years now, the budget for Dr. Dex's department was more or less the same as it was before he was the one and only. I did not expect my remark to result in a fallout as drastic as Dr. Dex losing their funding. Well... Maybe I was hoping for it, but I certainly wasn't expecting anything to actually be done about it. Though, what proved much more unexpected was the swift retaliation from someone as meek and shy as Dr. Dex, can't say I've ever seen him engage in any discussions as lengthy with people as he does with his parrot, Kip, that’s to say he’s a worse loner than myself. I underestimated that man, didn't think he had what it takes to scrap with bureaucracy like that.

Regardless, the result was scathing cuts to the astronomy department's public programs, I know how much Prof Lea enjoys those, and as much as I'm not a people person I understand the importance of bridging the gap between academics and the public, these very programs foster support for us and, with any hope, maybe future academics for our fields. Honestly, at first I was pissed, the audacity to not only contest his reduced budget, but to target the astronomy department's budget in the process; He could have gone for the arts, everyone dog-piles the arts when arguing over who gets the short end of the stick, though the fact he didn't, does owe him some respect, and I must admit I am impressed he was able to score a better budget all by himself. That being said, I am getting rather sick of feeling as though I'm treading across broken glass whenever I talk to Prof Lea. It's too late to do anything about the budget, it's long since been finalized and I'd already tried apologizing to her, but it did next to nothing to quell the ire festering beneath her mask of steel. I'm out of options, which is what compels me to deviate away from my usual routine, and stray elsewhere other than the library or the cafeteria. Half an hour before noon I pause my work, leaving the Astrophysics and Earth Sciences floor, and heading down to the ground floor for Biology and Chemistry Sciences. The stairwell is dim, constructed with stone that’s bumpy to the touch, sleek wooden handrails line the walls lining either side, every step made makes an dull soft echo. Knowing Prof Lea, she's probably still upset with me because there's still some leftover bad blood between our departments. She's a social butterfly, so I guess it makes sense why she would be mad at me for disturbing the harmony, though I don't see why I should be looking to make an apology to Dr. Dex when I was only making a suggestion at the time, but I suppose it's worth a shot, if that's what it takes to settle the score for Prof Lea, so be it. I pass by some other academics, likely chemists, on my way in, I don't know them, though they probably know me, I'm renowned within the campus, just not for the same reason as I’m renowned in astronomy, I'm painfully aware of how unpopular I am among the other academics. I scan the posters lining the walls, they're a lot better off than the ones on my floor, not so many windows here, so they're not subject to decades of bleaching by the sun. Some of the posters on the Astrophysics and Earth Sciences floor predate The Hysteria, which may be why no one's bothered to take them down replace them with new ones, when superstition still has stakes in everyone, including myself as much as I dislike admitting it. The subject of the posters shift from chemistry, to biology, the display cases showing off specimens as ordinary as skeletal remains, to exotic insects. Something sticks out, commanding my attention, I stop in my tracks and stare. A poster, newer than the rest with how it’s yet to have it’s context lost to being buried beneath layers more of posters pinned to the bulletin board, it's subject spurns a furrow from my brow upon reading further beyond the big bold letters. 'CHIMERAS' 'The most ethical source of STEM cells!' I scoff, the words 'chimera' and 'ethical' or it's derivatives do not belong in the same sentence, this poster is advocating for a liability to be celebrated, saved even.

My focus is broken by the creak and click of a door opening, I know who it is without turning away from the bulletin board, the telltale sound of a fussy parrot the dead giveaway it's Dr. Dex.

Turning my focus down the hall, I see him leaving the biology lab, his parrot, Kip, perched upon his shoulder, sporting a worn navy blue harness, the leash of which, remains around Dr. Dex's wrist as he returns his lanyard to it's place around his neck and Kip, without missing a beat, begins trying to play with the lanyard, which Dr. Dex mostly ignores, save for the occasional brush of his hand, when the bird's beak gets a little too close to his ID card, otherwise, his hands remain buried in his pockets as he walks. Dr. Dex is a man of many quirks, standing at around five foot eight, his hair is often unkempt, thick black and coiled, his facial hair looks as though it's grown not for the look, but out of laziness, like shaving distracts too much from whatever he'd rather be doing in the moment. I've never not see him wearing goggles, could be he becomes accustomed and forgets they're there at all, the rest of his wardrobe is just as eclectic. A long coat, the kind you'd expect to see on a private investigator, though without the sleeves, and with many more pockets. Underneath he wears a camo print sweater and baggy pants with as many pockets as the coat, finally old rubber boots, black but even then the muck and dust covering them remains visible. His expression looks forlorn, it always does beneath his thick coiled locks, like me he's cursed with a default expression that almost always gives the wrong impression. Though he's the luckier bastard than I, their face evokes pity, mine evokes malice. His eyes are downcast, yet to notice me standing in his path, till my shadow falls over him, and finally, he halts, turning his eyes up to glance. Looking long enough to see who it is, maybe glean what I'm feeling, before looking away again. I doubt he gleaned anything. I break the silence. "Dr. Dex, can we talk?"

His eyes flick back to mine, his expression as uniform as a sedimentary stone, not so surprising considering he's autistic, though I see an eyebrow quirk behind his eyes, even when his face remains unmoving. His voice, as expected, monotone, mumbling. "I was actually just heading to the cafeteria to grab lunch..." I put on my best effort to be amicable. "Really? So you don't mind if I join you?" Dr. Dex walks past me, glancing to Kip who eyes me warily from his shoulder as I follow closely behind. "I dunno... Kip doesn't really like it when people interrupt our 'me time'..." I glance at the bird, my brow furrowing now noticing how intensely it's eyes are laser focused upon me, Dr. Dex continues. "But maybe he'll make an exception since... Well..." He pauses by the doors leading out of the Van-Houtte Sciences Building, gesturing to me with a vague vertical wave of his hand before speaking again. "You're um... You're tall." Without another word, he pushes past the doors. Following after him, into the hallway of the adjoining building, I speak, quirking eyebrow. "What's my height got to do with your bird's tolerance?" He glances at Kip, then up to me, quickly glancing away when his eyes meet mine, his fingers sheepishly scratching his facial hair as he mumbles. "He likes tall people..." I expect clarification, instead I get confrontation, he suddenly stops, his brows furrowing in a rare show of emotion. "Hold on, what was it you wanted to discuss, Dr. Bao?" Now I'm the one feeling sheepish, I do my best to keep it under wraps. "Not so much discuss... I wanted to apologize." He looks confused now, sharing a look with Kip as if the bird could make some comment on the matter. "For what?" "The budget cuts." Dr. Dex sighs, a deep, heavy sigh, shoulders slumping to such a sharp angle, Kip's wings twitch at their sides as they adjust their grip, claws flexing into the fabric of Dr. Dex's coat. Dr. Dex strides past me, the same monotone mumbling, though now with an undertone of annoyance. "I don't want to discuss the matter." I rush to save this conversation, siding up to him. "It's not a discussion, it's an apology." "I don't want an apology." I feel irritation budding, but quickly quell it. "Then what DO you want?" "I want you to leave us alone." I furrow my brow. "Us...?" Dr. Dex flashes me a look of annoyance, before pointing to Kip, who regards me with a look of vitriol I didn't know macaws were capable of. I look away, that bird has a worse reputation than me, I'd rather not risk upsetting it. My eyes wander elsewhere, to the glass panes lining the hallway, the sky displaying an odd mix of sun and clouds, rays filtering from gaps in the cumulonimbus. I pry my eyes away from the window, and focus my attention back to Dr. Dex. "Okay, look, how about I treat you, and you hear me out?" I watch his face, looking for any sign he's swayed, he pauses, his hand coming to rest near his chin, fingers idly carding through his facial hair, his eyes fixated somewhere down the hall where we came from, but by how they're glazed over in thought, he's not looking at anything. Kip, now with a portion of Dr. Dex’s lanyard in his mouth, glances from Dr. Dex, to me, before fussing. Dr. Dex doesn't break his gaze, his hand going from his chin to Kip, the parrot nuzzling his head into Dr. Dex’s palm with that raspy groan macaws tend to make, albeit much more subdued and softer as they roll their shoulders beneath the harness, their eyes fluttering closed as Dr. Dex's fingers stroke the red patch just above their beak on the otherwise green plumage of the bird. Dr. Dex begins slowly. "You'll treat me...?" "Whatever you want from the cafeteria, it's on me." Dr. Dex, without looking, redirects Kip from trying to pry the buttons off his sleeve, the bird's beak clamping down upon his finger, he doesn't even flinch when he speaks again. "Anything I want...?" "Yes." There's a moment of hesitation, before Dr. Dex speaks again, with a short nod. "Very well..."

★★★

I never should have underestimated this man, or his infernal parrot. I look from the total price displayed on the screen to Dr. Dex several times, his poorly hidden smirk putting pressure on my already thinned patience. The cafeteria isn't too crowded, nonetheless this is not a good place to lose my cool and tell Dr. Dex how much I hate him and hope his spaz of a parrot bites off all his fingers in a fit of avian rage. Dr. Dex looks from me, to the payment terminal, in that brief eye contact I can see the evil beneath that expectant look of his. I look from him to the terminal, rereading the number several times, in disbelief as I scan the items on the table. Dr. Dex's tone carries a hint of mischief. "Dr. Bao...?" I take a deep, sharp breath, clenching my jaw so I don't clench my hand as I fish my card from my pocket, lest Dr. Dex notice and know he's gotten a rise out of me, though his parrot seems to have noticed, I can feel it's eyes on me as much as I can hear it still playing with Dr. Dex's lanyard, making the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

The resounding beep from the payment terminal is like a bell tolling, signalling the loss of seventeen Swiss Francs. Just as I am about to help Dr. Dex in carrying some of the items, he removes the leash from around his wrist and holds it out to me. "Here, you can carry Kip." I don't move, simply staring, my eyes following the length of the leash from Dr. Dex's hand, to where it remains affixed to Kip's harness, locking eyes with the winged demon. I glance back to the items still on the checkout table, then to the bird. "Dr. Dex, it's fine, really, you don't have to..." I trail off, he's already manoeuvring the macaw to his wrist, stretching his arm as far as he can reach to my shoulder for the bird to climb on. I fight to keep the discomfort out of my expression as much as I do the tremble in my hand taking the leash from Dr. Dex, trying to avoid moving my left shoulder too much, lest I jostle the bird and invoke it's ire, as I grab whatever is leftover that Dr. Dex couldn't carry himself.

I avoid eye contact with Kip as I follow Dr. Dex. I expect him to find an empty table, of which there are many, instead he opts to prolong this hostage situation I’ve become a victim of.

Without a word he turns to leave the cafeteria, I hadn't even noticed, rather my foremost concern was scanning the place for somewhere to sit down so I could pawn the parrot back onto Dr. Dex, it was only when Kip screeched in my ear did I notice Dr. Dex was no longer standing next to me, but by the doors we came in from, waiting expectantly. From where I stand several feet away, flinching from Kip's outburst, the regular blank slate face of Dr. Dex is like Mercury against the backdrop of the Sun. As uniform as his features are, they’re reduced to a mere spot upon the vision, greatly out-shined by the smirk behind his eyes. Kip continues to fuss till I break out of my stupor and stride over with a barely suppressed glare. Dr. Dex opens the door for me. "He only screamed once, he must really like you." I snap with a suppressed tone. "Shut up."

★★★

Like myself, Dr. Dex has a reclusive streak, rather than sitting out in the open, he opts to head back to the Van-Houtte Science Building and take me to his office to talk.

I sigh, mildly hoping I get shanked and fed to whatever amoeba cultures he has growing to put an end to this miserable day. Wouldn't that be a way to go...

Dr. Dex stops before a heavy set of doors, I look around for a label, a nameplate, finding none, the odd detail sticks out like seeing an unmarked van, especially when this side of the wing for Biology and Chemistry Sciences is so eerily quiet, desolate at this time of day...

Dr. Dex presses his ID to the electronic lock, and, holding the door open for me, I tentatively step inside and stop, turning back to him.

"This isn't an office..." What began as an idle musing begins to run wild inside my mind. As much as reality and logic conflicts, I can’t quell this budding suspicion. He returns his lanyard to his neck. "Correct." "It's a lab." My pulse spikes hearing the door’s lock click back into place. There’s no malice in his stride, nor his tone, when he walks past me, nonetheless, I step out of his way. "Very observant Dr. Bao."

I roll my eyes as he sets his stuff down on a counter by a tray holding a kettle and several assorted mugs, against the wall are several small jars of what I assume to be various blends of coffee or tea. "Ahaha, how witty of you. Now, can you please take your parrot back?"

Dr. Dex, in middle of filling the kettle with water, glances at me. "I can try."

I raise an eyebrow. "Try?" Dr. Dex doesn't answer, instead, he briefly disappears behind the half wall that the counters are set against, and returns with something in his hands, something wriggling. He holds it in one hand, and raises his wrist to my shoulder with the other, Kip looks from his hand, to his wrist, before biting his fingers with a hiss. He doesn't even flinch, simply pocketing the grub and returning to the sink, still filling the kettle without a word. I'm processing my current predicament when Dr. Dex's voice pulls me out of my spiral. "You want some coffee, or tea? I also have tea..." I hate how easy it is to be bribed. "Coffee is fine." With Kip still stubbornly on my shoulder, I take a look around the lab... It could best be described as rectangular, split into four sections based which side of the two half walls they're on. From where I stand, I'm roughly in the middle of the entryway, to my right, clutter, filing cabinets, boxes of what I assume to be lab equipment, though I can't tell what's unopened from what's been put away; to my left, lockers line the half wall, all pristine save for one decorated with stickers of birds and insects, Dr. Dex's nameplate tacked on at a crooked angle. Where Dex is, is what I assume to be the actual work space of the lab, sinks line the counters which run along the half wall, another counter cutting through the middle, and a final row of counters lining the wall on the right, this one with cabinets, though as I tentatively stalk closer, to take a closer look around the lab, what jumps out to me is that they're all empty. Dr. Dex plugs in the kettle, setting it to boil, before he slinks past me and behind the half-wall which makes the entryway, I take this as an opportunity to follow him, and get a look at the other side of the lab. On the other side of the half-wall, is the 'office' Dr. Dex was referring to. If this desk were an animal, this one would be a malnourished horse, thin and sickly with scattered paperwork plaguing it's surface; a chair that, upon glancing over my shoulder for confirmation, looks to be borrowed from the workspace portion of the lab, with a blanket draped over the backrest.

A lamp to the left side of the desk looks as though it was picked up from a curb, and to the right, a filing cabinet that looks like it was raided by the intelligence services. The wall next to, a bulletin board with string lighting positioned above, a stark contrast to the picture of stress so vividly painted across the scene with Dr. Dex hunched over his laptop, looking through his emails, or so I assume. The bulletin board itself broadcasts a different tune to the rest of the cluttered surrounding scenery, with several photos and trinkets tacked on.

A couple key-chains and photos, the odd newspaper or magazine clipping, some origami; butterflies, cranes, paper flowers. A sticky note sporting some scribbling I recognize to be in Prof Lea's style stands out to me, unsurprisingly, it's a doodle of a horse. Below the bulletin board is more boxes, smaller, not as many, and not with the same subject matter as the ones by the door. Books and binders haphazardly stacked within, what holds the most significance however, is Dr. Dex’s degree, framed, but tucked away amongst the contents of the boxes. As far as I can recall, Dr. Dex has been here for over five years, yet he has never bothered to mount his degree...? Without warning Kip alights off my shoulder, their leash still around my wrist they snag with a squawk and tumble to the floor in a heap of feathers, once more, fussing in loud raspy cries as they flail and fumble with their leash.

At once, Dr. Dex is at their side, with the composure of a seasoned father, he removes Kip from their harness, muttering some gentle comforting words, too quiet for me to hear. I simply stand there, awkwardly holding a now empty leash, till Dr. Dex is done soothing his feathered toddler, the bird perched on his wrist as he takes the leash from me without a word and sets it on his desk. He returns to his laptop for a moment more, before the whine of the kettle breaks the silence. Shutting his laptop, he sets Kip down on the backrest of his chair to tend to the kettle, the parrot eyeing me from it's perch as I look to the far side of this side of the lab.

Against the half-wall dividing the workspace, are a number of assorted enclosures and aquariums. Most notably, one sizable enough, decorated with worn wooden toys, to safely assume it belongs to Kip. The wall opposite is something to note however... With the lab divided by two half-walls, it’s easy to miss that out of the four full walls that make up the full rectangular room, one is not like the other...

On this side of the lab, the length of the wall begins like the rest, till it reaches where the half-wall across from it, the one dividing the entryway and Dr. Dex’s office, ends. There, the solid material is interrupted by panes of glass, which stretches well beyond where the next half-wall begins, the one which divides the workspace from the enclosures.

Where the glass ends, and the solid material resumes, across from Kip’s cage, is a door, one which looks heavy, but not as imposing as the ones leading into the lab. The door which leads into the conservatory just beyond the glass wall.

I always knew Djävulen had a conservatory, it's kinda hard to miss, but I'd never seen the inside of it, in all my years working here.

Not that it's easy to see what's on the other side of the glass, as several shelves and racks of plants are pushed up against the wall, and peering past them proves futile, as more vegetation persists beyond the panes. I'd heard as many rumours of what the interior is like, as much as I'd heard rumours of it's demolition. Though those rumours were floating around years before Dr. Dex found himself to be the sole flagship species of his field. I'd never really been in any of the biology labs before now, but now that I'm here, I can see where people got the idea that the conservatory was going to be demolished... This lab looks as though it was in the middle of renovations, before Dr. Dex moved in, how depressing…

Dr. Dex speaks up. "You want anything in your coffee?" I pry my eyes away from the glass. "No thanks." "Ah, you like it black and bitter, like your soul, I see." I blink, taken aback by the jab, this biologist has bite. I'm still yet to recover when he hands me the mug, holding his own, the telltale herbal scent of tea wafting from it as he leans back against the counter sipping from it. There's a lapse of silence, before I realize he's waiting for me to break it. I clear my throat. "I wanted to apologize." Dr. Dex doesn't say anything, I continue. "I'm sorry for bringing up your budget back in January." He simply stares at his cup. "You don't sound sorry." Because I'm not, not really, but that's besides the point, I have to make this work, somehow. "Well, what can I do to make it up to you?" Dr. Dex glances from one end of the room, to the next, somewhere in the lab, Kip is playing with their toys, the sound of a bell ringing and wooden blocks clattering echoing in the empty space. "Nothing. I have everything I need."

I follow his eyes with a skeptical look. "Really?"

He catches onto the doubt in my tone, his brow twitching. "Well, mostly everything..." He continues, a snide smirk in his tone. "I have your budget, for starters..."

I bristle, my tone biting, the words leaving my lips before I’d even let myself think. "Albeit a bloated budget."

Dr. Dex glares, setting his mug down. "Dr. Bao, with all due respect, what do you need your budget for when you're sucking off the ASO for funding?"

I take a breath. "They pay us in pennies, Professor Lea, Dr. Ken and I are lucky we're tenured, the other astronomers meanwhile are shit out of luck. Furthermore, the ASO is just about the only damn organization still kicking nowadays that will fund and hire astronomers!"

Dr. Dex folds their arms. "My point still stands."

"How?"

Dr. Dex stands up straight now, his voice rising in a shocking deviation from his usual monotone cadence. "Because I'M not tenured asshole!"

I flinch, never have I heard him raise his voice like that. "You're... You’re not...?"

"No!"

Well now I feel bad, not that I say so, which I swiftly come to regret, as Dr. Dex continues his tirade.

"Ask me how many experiments I've run in this lab! Go on, ask!"

I glance around, stepping back. "Eight...?"

"None! Ask me how many papers I've published since I graduated, FIVE years ago!"

I flinch, I don't say a word.

"That's right, zero! Hell, this lab isn't even fit to function! You think you’re allowed to bring food or animals like Kip into labs like this willy-nilly?!"

"No...?"

"No! Of course not! Which you would know, if you worked in a lab!"

I blink, my brow furrowing. "What gives if I don't? Astronomy is just as valid as biology!"

Dr. Dex sneers. "Suuure it is, but that doesn’t give you the right to walk all over other fields.”

I scoff. “Not my fault biology isn’t as interesting as astronomy, paleontology or chemistry.”

Dr. Dex, with a growl in his tone, fists clenched at his sides. “Careful Icarus, otherwise you'll end up like the Superconducting Super Collider."

I’m shocked he knows of such a thing from so far back, much less the context to make it an applicable remark, but two can play it that game. I point a finger at him. "That's a completely different field than mine, and if you wanna bring up follies and scandals, may I remind of Dr. Hwang Woo-suk? "Funny, I would be insulted by that..." Dr. Dex gestures around him. "Had I any students!!" "What's stopping you from getting any?!" Dr. Dex, shaking with rage rubs his thumb against his fingers in an aggressive gesture. “Money! Money, Dr. Bao!" I sigh heavily, pinching the bridge of my nose, trying to come up with some retort to salvage this conversation. Dr. Dex returns to his tea, taking a long sip, also sighing. His tone sounds much more subdued and solemn. "I need this, Dr. Bao, I'm sorry but I'll tell you the same thing I said to Lea... I need my own public programs to foster interest for biology, and potential biologists in the area."

I blink. "Wait, hold on, Lea discussed the matter with you?" He takes another sip, nodding. "Mm hm. Months back." He continues. "She even agreed to help me with the setup, since, well..." He shrugs. "I'm sorta shy and it's my first time doing this sorta thing..." "If this was resolved months ago, the hell is she so mad at me over...?

Dr. Dex raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" I shake my head. "I thought Lea was mad at me over the budget cuts." Dr. Dex stares at me for an uncomfortably long time. For someone who rarely makes eye contact, it’s unnerving to suddenly find myself locking eyes with him, knowing he’s really looking at me, trying to read me.

At last his eyes flick down, fixating on his tea instead of me, his tone subdued. "That's... not what she's mad over..." I expected outrage, not this, I feel my stomach churn. “Then what is it? What did I do?”

Dr. Dex flashes me a sour look, before glancing away again. “I knew you were never sorry, but I didn't suspect you had a motive for trying to come off as sorry." I furrow my brow, this conversation spinning wildly out of my control. "What do you mean?" Dr. Dex regards me with a strong side eye. "This apology was never for me."

Before I can refute, he continues, notable disgust in his tone. "Just what kind of person raised you...?" I almost laugh, almost. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you..." Dr. Dex cocks his head. "Huh?" I brush him off, setting my mug down. "It's nothing. Look, I admit I wasn’t exactly transparent in my intentions, I may have... Misread the situation.” Dr. Dex hums, his eyes fixated on no specific point once more, turning some thought or more in his mind before he speaks. “I suppose I can’t fault you too much, it would be hypocritical to judge another autistic person on their short-comings.” “Dr. Dex, I’m not autistic.”

Dr. Dex blinks, cocking their head. “You’re not?” I shake my head, they continue. “So... You’re just a jackass?”

I huff, my shoulders slumping. “Yeah, sure, but believe me when I say I’m genuinely trying to bury the hatchet by apologizing to you." Dr. Dex glances up at me. “But it’s not my hatchet, is it, Dr. Bao?”

Bitter defeat leaks into my tone, the odds are not looking too good. “No... It’s not...”

There’s a long pause before Dr. Dex speaks again. "How badly do you want this hatchet buried...?"

I look at him, really look, trying to find any trace of some trick or malice up his sleeve. "I already treated you, what more do you want?" Dr. Dex speaks in a snooty wistful manner. "Well, I've already put my- Your budget forward for public programs, but that didn't leave me with as much as I'd hoped." "If you're about to black-mail me, I will have your buried six feet under in Dunkeltaler." Dr. Dex, unbothered. "The woods in general, or that site of yours?" "Site. It's private property, cops would need a warrant to search it." Dr. Dex, still not even the slightest intimidated. "Don't you have someone posted there?"

"What, Dr. Kel? He doesn't have to know... That or I have him help me." Dr. Dex, finishing his tea, begins to rinse his glass out in the sink. "How familiar are you with aqua-scapes?" "Pretty familiar, why? Do you have a preference where I dump your body?" "I'm not blackmailing you Dr. Bao, I'm not even sure what I would even use against you." I fold my arms. "I can think of a few things..." At Dr. Dex's silence I glance back to him, catching the bemused look beneath the surface before he looks away. "You're weird." I scoff. "That's rich, coming from you. Anyways, what do you need me for with aqua-scaping?" Dr. Dex looks me up and down, shaking his head. "I'm not so sure it's a good idea to ask for your help." "Why not?" Dr. Dex, blunt. "You're old." The murder plot resumes within my head, as I answer. "I'm not that old." Dr. Dex's eyebrows twitch. "Are you not in your sixties?" I don't answer, I just stare, fumbling for some retort to counter him, finally, I find one. "You heard me out, now, let me hear you out, Dr. Dex." Dr. Dex shrugs. "Suppose it's only fair... Fine, I was going to ask you to help me with some... Renovations for the conservatory. He gestures to the boxes by the entryway. "I've been meaning to install these new filters, but doing that requires some heavy lifting." I jab. "And you're too short and twig armed to do it by yourself?" Dex mutters. "Yes..." I sneer. "And too out of budget to hire someone to do it for you...?" Dr. Dex doesn't look at me, his tone carries a hint of bite. "Yes..."

★★★

When I left the Astrophysics and Earth sciences floor, it was under the impression that it wouldn’t take me more than an hour to apologize.

This whole endeavour to make amends has turned into something far grander in scale then I ever could have anticipated. The setting sun painting long shadows across the confines of the conservatory, where I toil away under the sweltering humid air, elbows deep in muck and grime. The aqua-scaping of the conservatory is much more complex than I would have assumed, I was going in thinking it'd be a simple pond, but I was very wrong. There is a pond, yes, but there's a small river or brook that feeds into it, and from that brook, set against the far corner, is a small stony waterfall. Replacing the filter for the pond proved easy, and though there was some piping that needed to be replaced here and there, that was also easy enough. It's the waterfall that’s the bane of my existence, giving me the most grief as I carefully pick apart the stones and gut the piping to reach the filter nestled somewhere within. The whole conservatory is as breathtaking as it is frustrating, the ambient temperature proving to be a taxing condition to work under, sweat covering my body as much as the muck is coating my clothing. Dr. Dex was able to provide the original blueprints of the conservatory, which made it all the more easier to actually find the damn filter, as for reaching it, that nearly proved fatal when at one point, I nearly cut myself as I was pulling the filter free from the cavity it was nestled within. Perhaps I should have asked for gloves when I agreed to do this...

Nonetheless, when it's all said and done; filter replaced, waterfall's stones stacked back in place, I sink to the ground with a heavy sigh, exhausted.

Though my rest is short lived when I overhear Dr. Dex struggling with something, looking over my shoulder, I spot him struggling with a valve nearby the waterfall. I watch him strain to turn it for maybe a moment longer than I should have, before slowly rising to my feet and shambling up behind him, I place my hands on the valve and without much effort on my part, turn it. What begins as a trickle from the waterfall, soon turns into the steady progressive sound of rushing water, hissing and bubbling, overtaking the dull hum of ventilation I’d so grown accustomed to in the hours it took to complete this task. Dr. Dex skips over to the edge of the brook, kneeling down to peer at the cascading water as it flows over stones and withering vegetation to the pond at the other end of the conservatory. He smiles, I'd never seen him do that before, neat. "Yippee! Now I can put my fish back where they belong!" I try to brush myself off to no avail, I'm gunna need a shower when I get home. I mutter with a sigh. "Yeah, that's nice, glad to help..." Without warning, I'm hugged, I tense, almost striking Dr. Dex, I barely bite back the instinct in time before I acted upon it. Dr. Dex remaining blissfully oblivious to the fire he’s playing with as he speaks. "Thank you." I relax, if only slightly, my blood still roaring at his insolence. "I'm covered in mud." He pulls away. "Yes." I raise an eyebrow, gesturing to him. "Now you are as well." Dr. Dex shrugs. "I've been covered in far worse." I raise both eyebrows now. "I don't doubt that you have, Dr. Dex..." Leaving the conservatory, the air feels a lot easier to breath when it's not saturated with moisture and heat, Dr. Dex grabs a soda he'd gotten earlier, and tosses it to me, I fumble, nearly dropping it, my hands soaked and slippery with algae and mud. He cracks open his own with a smirk. "You look like shit." I shoot him a glare, he continues, raising his soda. "Cheers." I begrudgingly tap my bottle against his with a huff. "Cheers."

★★★

The sweet aftertaste of the soda still lingers, long into midnight as I ascend the stairway to the rooftop of the Van-Houtte Sciences Building to setup and send the drone to Dunkeltaler.

It’s been a long day, though I suppose it wasn’t entirely fruitless, I guess I’m on good terms with Dr. Dex now, though I now know that’s not why Professor Lea was so cross with me in the first place.

Next to the rooftop observatory is the shed where the drone is housed, also where I keep the MREs stashed. Like the observatory, the drone shed lacks an electronic lock, instead using padlocks and keys, the keys themselves have no copies. Unlike the key for the observatory, which hangs within easy access in the astronomy wing of the Astrophysics and Earth Sciences floor, the key for the drone shed is always either on me, or in my office.

The door to the shed shutters open with a harsh squeal which trails off into a groaning whine, throwing the tarp off the drone, I toss in the usual items, data tapes, zip drives, etc and throw in an MRE, before circling round behind the drone to push it outside, and send it off to the site.

I squint as the wind made from it’s propellers kicks up dirt and dust, the dull hum nigh deafening as it lifts off, into the sky, and away from the campus.

I smooth down my hair as I watch it melt into the night, it’s red lights, beacons against the blackness, becoming progressively smaller and fainter before disappearing altogether. Lining the roof is thick sturdy granite railing, a foot off the ground are foot wide gaps, unless someone is small enough or holds enough upper body strength to clamber over, the railing doesn’t make it easy to jump.

Not that I would recommend it, personally, as below are bushes that line the perimeter of much of the Van-Houtte Science Building, they’d break the fall as much as the fall would break a few limbs.

Nonetheless I find myself leaning over the edge, looking out over the city of Laufrende, the idle white noise of the nighttime city-scape, quiet as it is, overlayed with soft winds blowing from far up here and closer below, the campus alive despite the dark, crickets chirping, a rabbit, barely visible, nestled by a hedge, moths dancing in the lamplight which bathes the campus in a warm orange glow.

Looking to the sky now, hands gripping the edge of the granite, I lean back, eyes locking onto the zenith first, then star hopping as I identify each constellation and celestial body I see, some imaginary roll call which is soon interrupted by an orange glow, not from below, but above.

My heart flutters, I fixate and watch it streak across the sky, it looks like reverse fireworks, rather than shooting up, it’s hurtling down, noiselessly shattering apart into several sparkling fragments as it nears the ground, disappearing into the darkness of the far treeline or mountain, I can’t quite tell under the lens of the night.

Despite the terms I’m still on with Prof Lea, I quickly fish my phone from my pocket and shoot her a text.

It’s worth looking into, with any hope we may be able to locate where the meteor landed and retrieve it.

★★★

The soreness of today persists, if anything it worsens when I finally arrive home, my body feeling heavy, in more ways than one. Something moves out of the corner of my eye as I'm kicking off my shoes and removing my coat, something dark, staring at me. It's not alone, something brushes against my feet, nearly making me trip before I find the light switch and flip it on. Rabbits. I only got them last year, Spider and Socket, and I already hate them both. Spider, all black, like something charred and ruined, she prefers to stay under my bed, or with whatever corner is closest to me, always staring. Socket, white with brown spots, she's so damn clingy it drives crazy, every day she's pawing at my legs for my attention on some mild matter, be it to brush her fur or fix the ribbon she insists on wearing. Ah, and to make matters worse, they're both big enough to open doors. Of the three in my apartment, bedroom, bathroom, entry/exit, all are handles instead of knobs. It wasn't always like that, before I got them. I didn't want them, not like I had a choice, despite turning down the cats and dogs, there was nobody else, nearby or left to care. I hate how their beady eyes fixate upon me, how they refuse to eat until I do, how they won't leave me alone with myself, no matter what I do or say to them. They know of my malice, it doesn't concern them and it irritates me endlessly. They think I live for them? Because of them? Wrong. I remain a dead man walking because I've still got a routine, they are only reminders that I'm rotting from the inside. I can only hope I outlive them, though that's with knowing I won't outlive them for long... The world won't let me move on, the longer I remain within stage one, the more I begin to feel numbed to my own anguish without ever listening to the source of it. I don't think I'll make it through August, let alone September, not without a miracle... Not when my body feels so heavy…

★★★

Long winds, erode evening shadows, the sun never set, was ever there to begin with.

The surface glows red, a permeating haze asserts a stranglehold over me, eyes watering, like I stand upon Venus, but I know it’s Earth from the Joshua trees, black against the backdrop of the aggressively orange glow, suspended, paused before impact, surrounded by fragments sparkling, like I look through the eyes of the saurians themselves before they saw the coming apocalypse added another layer of rock to the Earth’s already fragmented history.

Something else crunches underfoot, snow from fallen rings turning to ash blowing past me, smoke so thick it’s like waking up to a blackout.

Only a mirror stands out, obsidian glass against something rattling like beads and bones. It’s no mirror, it’s my own eyes, looking back at me from beyond the window within the cage.

I dreamed I was a bird once, but now it’s not the same, instead I bear eighty one scales upon my back, blackened by wear and tear like the heat shield of a spacecraft. Devilish horns and a tail to compliment, teeth and tongue twisting what I say of myself to something else entirely, all to escape what’s slowly killing me from the weight of my heart, to the back of my mind.

It’s a beautiful feeling. The only bliss I get is when I surrender myself to this. What seeps from my still twitching body, into tender shadows woven to another endometrium, carving the Earth into gentler terrain, the light braced at the edge of a final, infinite dream.

The wire cries, shrill and piercing, so much so it shakes the foundation it’s built upon.

The console displays a star with a name I’d rather not read, but one I would believe to be the best fit for one such as this, a Wolf-Rayet star, of resplendent luminescence, it’s image so spectacular I can only stare and feel that weight draining from my body, till it slams back into me with such force I bleed when the wire screams again from it’s place within the console.

With trembling hands I lift it from it’s pedestal at the cost of losing my autonomy, unable to breath, but still able to lift it to my ear and listen…

“Hans…?”

I recoil, ripping the line from it’s socket set within the console, and whipping it to the window which shatters, the outside crumbling away. The outside the view from the rooftops, was always nothing, like someone had painted it upon the panes, but it was nothing more than dirt.

What’s revealed when shattered is the same stars I always see, indifferent to me.

The console howls, and without my input, it plays the song from the star of resplendent luminescence.

From the frequency, to the tone and even the pitch, it becomes something beyond the realm of man-made, yet I know better than to think such sound would be made naturally, it’s origins belong to bleak bittersweet memories, evoking choked sobs out my heaving chest, taking thorns from skin, carving myself into a bitter spray painting the console in my wake... Gasping awake.

For a minute I just lay on my side, staring at the far wall of my room, shrouded in darkness, yet some unseen framed face still stands out, an icon which continues to haunt me in the waking world worse than it does dreaming.

Something moves beside me, climbing over me till a furry muzzle breaks my line of sight, I growl, shoving Socket away with a huff and rolling over, letting my arm drop over the edge of the bed, my fingers brushing against the carpeted floor.

I pay no mind to Socket as she settles on my back, my mind wandering elsewhere beyond what concerns the rodents I so disdainfully tolerate, reaching further down, beneath the bed, nudging Spider aside, I trace my fingertips over cool plastic and cold metal, still there with all it’s contents within...

Something heavier than Socket settles over me...

★★★

I can’t bring myself to go back to sleep, I’ve long grown sick of lying awake at night staring at the ceiling, watching the shadows shift in real time with the rise and fall of the sun.

I check the time from my phone, too early to head into work, at some point Professor Lea did text me back. I read it without actually retaining any of the information, it took a few tries before it stuck, and even still I feel like I’m only half awake, trying to remember if I ever actually ate anything after showering, or if I went straight to bed.

I check the sink, no dishes, which is the first sign I didn’t. Plucking a box of cereal from the top of the fridge and dropping a couple grains onto the floor, the lacklustre reaction from the rabbits beyond a couple twitches of the ears and the near constant wiggle of their noses outright confirms what I suspected..

With a sigh, I retrieve a bowl from a cupboard and pour my own portion, failing to check the fridge for milk till the cereal was already out of the box.

I stare at the empty space where a carton of milk would be, longer than necessary, wondering where I went wrong, before one of the rabbits softly bites me, I nudge them aside with my foot, scanning the contents of my fridge, my nose wrinkling now that I notice a pungent scent wafting out of it, my fingers flexing on the handle of the door, before diving in, sifting through what little contents there are to find the source and dispose of it.

The culprit proves to be an ironic one, what remains of the last meal I put real effort into. I turf it before I can think more about what that means for me, and return to my staring contest with the interior of the fridge.

A few eggs remain in their carton, though I’m not sure if they’re still safe to eat, that and I don’t feel like going through the effort of actually checking let alone cooking them.

Shutting the door I take the bowl from where I left it on the counter, and slump down at the small table only a few paces away, idly nibbling at the cereal as I stare at the seat across from me, empty.

It only takes a few minutes before I hear the rabbits crunching away at the cereal I left on the floor for them. Resting my head in my hand, I glance at them from where I sit, Socket already brushing against my foot, pawing my leg. With a long sigh I push my chair back and scoop her up into my lap to fix her ribbon. I’ve lost count at this point, I don’t remember putting it on her, because I did it while I was intoxicated, but even sober I never expected her to latch onto something so trivial.

I card my fingers through her fur, maybe I shouldn’t judge her so harshly, maybe she sees her ribbons the same way I do my neck-ties, if it’s about status that would explain a few things for Socket, though I could just be imposing my own human bias upon these lower lifeforms, for all I know, it’s just a routine, and nothing more.

Speaking of routine, they’re long overdue for a walk. I may not like them, but I’m not sick enough to neglect their needs. Or so I’d like to think...

★★★

It’s not often you see something other than dogs getting walked, but not unheard of, hell I’d seen parrots on leashes before yesterday.

When I received Socket and Spider, I was informed they would need to be walked, which is reasonable considering their size. Beneath the shroud of night only broken by the odd street light, it’s easy to mistaken them for small dogs, though, unlike dogs, I don’t have to pick up after them, seeing as they simply use a litter-box.

I guess it’s not so bad, I turned down my other options and ended up with them, they’re sorta the best of both worlds; big enough to be capable like a dog, clean as a cat, easy to feed seeing as they’ll eat anything that’s green.

Deep down I know their love for me is preformative, simply operating off the training they were brought up under, a brutal fact that becomes duller the more I sink it into my chest till I come to terms with reality, though a stubborn sliver remains beyond my grasp, slipping away just when I think I’ve gotten a grip, and suddenly I’m spiralling all over again, either suffocating or desperately grasping at the thorn bush at the surface in hopes I’ll, somehow, be able to breath again, by bleeding all over myself.

It’s not too chilly tonight, and with all this extra time, I take a longer route walking Socket and Spider, every hop jingles their harnesses, resonating in a softer echo within the still night as I guide them onto the bridge which crosses the canal that cuts through the city, hushed whispers of water lapping against stonework, the odd hum of something nestled within the reeds which hiss with the caress of the breeze below us.

I stop and stare, over the bridge, out across the water, which moves lazily beneath an otherwise still surface, save for some ripples now and again where something stirs the water, delicate silver stars reflecting upon it’s surface as much as the louder golden glow of the city does.

Next to me, metal on metal jingles as Socket sits up to clean her face, and Spider still stares. For something so unremarkable to offer some quiet to the restless mind... At first I find it irritating, I’ve seen this view and many others like before, I’ve seen better ones even, but something about this one brings a selective serenity.

Then it sinks in what stands out so much, it’s not the view, it’s the moment, something far harder to replicate, far more fleeting, for as soon as I realize it, it’s swiftly overtaken again by my default mindset.

I tear my eyes away with a bitter sigh, turning around to head home, rabbits in tow.

★★★

Written in collaboration with Feral Changeling

Part two

Part three

Return to root

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