Pasha, an Avatar story.

[archaic]

Part 114

Spoiler: Simulating three.

"What 'orbital platform' mean?"
"Err, well, it's a platform, in orbit."
"Saa!"
"OK, OK, it's a big structure in space, that floats around a planet ..... "
"Or moon."
" ..... yeah, or moon. It's bigger than a satellite, it's basically like a space station, but without the pressurized sections for people to, err, hang out in."
"Usually, but sometimes they can have habitable modules."
"True. Why d'you ask?"
"Candice, Stan, Rachael and, they talking about putting orbital platform at Eywa Eveng, ìì, Pandora. Take many things on ayesvi, leave on orbital platform, many times, when have everything they need, take fra'u down to surface. They dig hole in ground, very very big, build re-fine-er-eeee, make high temp-er-at-ure super-con-duck-tive cen-taur-ile Pandorite?"
"Err, OK?"
"They send very, very many people with guns, they smash everything, they kill everything, they kill everyone, they kill the Omaticaya, all."
"Are you sure?"
"They dig very big hole in ground, build re-fine-er-eeee, kill many trees, many animals. Na'vi fight to protect will. I seen, Na'vi cannot fight you with guns, they all dead very soon."
Chris and Francis looked at each other. Historically, humans had a track record of how to deal with indigenous people who were inconveniently placed. It wasn't always genocide, sometimes they'd been rounded up as slaves. More recently, they had been given money and told to go away. Generally, too little money. And, almost always, they were told to go away with a very thinly veiled threat that if they didn't, there could be an unfortunate accident involving them, fire arms, and associates who had absolutely no actual intention of actually shooting anyone, honest.
The Na'vi had no access to legal representation, no news teams, no social networks, no grass roots activists, nothing. What they did have, was a problem headed their way. A very real and truly galactic scale humdinger.
"How long before we are extinct?" tears rolled down Pasha's cheeks as she spoke.
"I don't know. I, err, I ..... just ..... Don't know." Chis was in no better shape.
"Well, there's one glimmer of hope." Francis sounded wretched.
"And what's that?"
"It's most likely gonna take 'em at least ten years to put all that lot together, minimum, maybe longer."
"Not helping."
"Will humanity still be capable of throwin' ISV's around, in ten years time?"
"Oh great, so the one possible whiff of light in the tsunami, is that civilisation might come to an end, before we get a chance to murder our way though the whole entire Na'vi species?"
"Yeah, pretty much. I mean, look, we're a very long way up a certain creek, without so much as a teaspoon, much less an actual paddle, as such." Francis, sounding just as wretched.
"Well, I can't argue with ya' there, mate."
"If, and it's a mahoosive 'if', but if they did make a go of it, it'd be a very small scale operation, that's for bleedin' sure."
"Maybe."
"Oh, and you know dead guy?"
"Which one?"
"The one what worked in Xenobiology?"
"Err .....  "
"Geof."
"Yeah, that's 'im. Oh, were you close?"
"Kehe."
"You know, we had this conversation the other night, Francis?"
"Hmm? Oh yeah, we did 'n' all. So, anyway, that bloke he went off with, Can't remember his name, but anywho, I looked him up ..... "
"Clever, if you can't remember his name."
"I looked 'im up when I could remember it! Yeah, so, he's a particle engineer."
"Meaning?"
"And he's got form, Geof was the floaty rock expert on the team ..... "
"Tawskxe, he do other things too. Did, he did other things too. Tooed?"
"Nah, 'too's correct."
" ..... I'll bet they're going to make it, here on earth, or maybe some place out of sight, like on the moon, or something."
"If they're gonna make it on Earth, or at least somewhere in our solar system, why go to the trouble and expense of buggering around on Pan', on Eywa Eveng?"
"Not to mention the inconvenience."
"It's alright, I wasn't going to mention it."
"Oh god, I know why, I bet I can guess exactly why."
"Go on?"
" 'Oh, it cost millions to go to P' to Eywa eveng, err, mine it, refine it and bring it all the way back here, so that's why it cost millions to buy it.' Mean time, they've got some plant somewhere chuckin' out tonnes and tonnes of the stuff."
"And if a few mercenaries, I mean 'Technical Consultants' should happen to end up dead, while annihilatin' the locals, well, that's all good for keeping the price inflated?"
"You know it."
"Christ, that's probably the most depressin'ly cynical thing I think I've ever heard. And that's saying something."
"Smells about right though, dunnit?"
"Yeah, it does that."
"Pasha, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but there is nothing good that's come out mankind's goin' to Pandora, and I don't see that changing any time soon."
"If ever. Now I'd just like to point out that you're wrong, and explain why you're way off."
Francis gave Chris a surprised look.
"I'm all ears."
"Yeah, you see, I'd like to, but I don't think I can. Much as I'd like to tell you you're wrong ..... " Chris sagged " ..... I don't think you are. Bang on the money, is more like it. Mankind, we're not the good guys, are we?"
"Scum of the Earth Chris, scum of the Earth."
"This is cheerful."
"Music?" Pasha suggested.
"Good idea." Chris, pressing play on Pasha's play list.
"Foot spa?"
"Srane. Please."
"What setting?"
"Mune."
"Myoon?"
"Myoon, it means two, niNa'vi."
"I know how many myoon is! I was just double checking that was the setting she wanted."
"Might help if you went and got it."
"Blah, blah, blah." Francis, mildly irritated.
Francis left to go and retrieve it from it's hiding place, on to of his locker, under a spare coat. He returned to find Pasha and Chris humming.
"So, would you like to try setting three?" Chris inquired.
"Sran."
They both hummed louder.
"I knew it, you've both finally lost the plot, your marbles, and touch with anything even vaguely resembling sanity."
"You were like ages! So we started without you."
The kettle boiled and clicked off.
"So, Mark's work here is complete. Bonkers, the pair of you."
"Yah just jealous."
"Yeah, no. Trust me, that ain't it."

[Toliman]

Read right now, txantsan

[archaic]

Irayo!    



Part 115

Spoiler: Smart?

"What 'ayesvi'?"
"Well, err, jeez, that's, a err, that's a big'un."
"You not know?"
"Of course we know, it's explaining it, that's, well, it's ..... "
"Oh, I know."
" ..... this ought to be good." Francis, cynically.
"This glove ..... " Chris pulled a glove out of a pocket, placed it on the table.
"Pretty sure ISV's are bigger than that."
" ..... this glove."
"What that glove?"
"Yeah, this glove."
"That glove."
Chris threw the other glove at Francis. In a never to be repeated fluke shot, it landed on his shoulder.
"Nice shot."
"I was aimin' for your big fat gob, it's a big enough target."
"Apparently not. Given that you missed by a mile."
"Let's say I'm Earth."
"I'm Earth."
"Francis, hows the foot spa coming on?"
"You want an up to the moment sit rep?"
"I do."
"Want the short answer, or the long answer?"
"Uh, I think i'll take the long answer." Chris, trying to catch Francis off guard.
"Nothing."
"That's the long answer."
"It is."
"So, then what's the short answer?"
"Nada."
"Whatever. Now where was I?"
" 'This glove' ?"
"Yeah, so ..... Err, pre identified item of apparel."
Pasha looked confused.
"What 'e means is 'This glove'. "
"Thank you mister González."
"Gonçalves."
"Whatever." Chris sighed, gestured very specifically to he glove that lay before him on the table, he produced a match stick, seemingly from nowhere, and placed it on the glove "Shuttle. Now, if I represent the Earth ..... "
"Ego's about the right size."
Chris's aim was better this time, and the glove hit Francis full in the face.
"Yeah, so, that really doesn't weigh zip."
"I could bung some rocks in it next time, if yah like."
"Err, nah' I'll take the glove, as nature intended, un-rocked."
"Bricks it is, then."
"Fine."
"So, the shuttle takes people, and whatever else, from the Earth, to the, ah, ..... Please mister, can I have my ISV back, please?"
Francis threw it back, it hit the table short and slid along, ending up not far from where it had started.
" ..... ISV. The ISV ..... "
"Inter steller vehicle."
" ..... travels to Eywa Eveng, carrying a shuttle with it."
Chris placed the match back on the glove, and slid them to Francis.
"When it arrives here, in orbit here, around 'me', or 'Pandora', as some damn fools have been known to call it, shuttle then takes people and whatever else down to my belly, or 'the surface', as some would have you call it."
"So yeah, that's pretty much it. ISV, Inter Steler Vehicle, kinda like a big assed boat that takes stuff from Earth orbit to, err, Eywa Eveng orbit."
"Boat?"
"Err, thing that floats in water, people can ride in them, take stuff around rivers and lakes, and ..... the sea I guess."
"Lu uran."
"Oo-rahn."
"Close enough. Ìì ISV more like Ikran than boat."
"Ikran?"
"Animal, flying, take rider out hunting, or to place far away, when not want to walk or ride fa'li."
"Fa'li?"
"Sran. Oh, ìì, pa'li like horse, except not like horse, one pa'li, many fa'li. Three or more pa'li lu fa'li."
"Shouldn't it be ayfa'li?"
"Ayfa'li good, fa'li good sì, ìì, also."
"So they're gearing up for, what? An invasion?"
" 'Make big hole in ground and build refinery'."
"What re-fine-er-eeee?"
"Yeah, that takes stuff with impurities, and removes the impurities. If they're digging a big hole and building a refinery, we're looking at some kind of ..... mining installation?"
"What the he'' would be worth going to that much trouble?"
"Something you can't find in our own solar system?"
"High-temp-er-at-ure-super-con-duck-tive-cen-taur-ile-pandorite?"
Chris and Francis exchanged glances, neither had any idea what that was. Francis typed into his search box 'high timperature superconductive centaurile pandorite'
"Nothin'."
"Nothing?"
"Nope, not a thing, zilch, zip, nada, bupkis. Oh, hang on, I can't spell 'temperature'."
"And?"
"Yeah, still nada."
"Well, that was informative."
"Oh, hang on, is that the floaty rock stuff, the flying mountains are made out of?"
"Because?"
"Because?"
"Err, please would you expand on the reasoning you used to attain that determination?"
"Does mister smart ass know there was this documentary about Pandora, dropped like a month or two before Christmas?"
"Yeah, I watched it."
"Remember the flying mountains bit?"
"Yeah, they said that Pan, that Eywa Eveng has lower gravity and insanely high magnetic field strength in some places, but the still couldn't work out how the stayed up, even if the were made of purest of pure semiconductive materials, which ought to be impossible?"
"Superconductive?"
"Oh, yeah, right, superconductive material. Look ..... whatever."
"What is them mountains are kept up with some kinda super amazingly super-superconducting superconducter?"
"Well, that'd be super."
"Yeah, but there's nuthin' like that on Earth, or in our solar system, it'd worth minin' it, refinin' it, and shipin' it back. Probably. Maybe."
"Maybe. but if it's floaty, why d'you need to dig a big old hole in the ground?"
"I don't bleedin' know! You're meant to be the smart one round 'ere, you tell me!"
"Err .....well ..... err ..... icebergs, I guess?"
"Icebergs?"
"Icebergs."
"Ice ..... bergs?"
"Icebergs, like ice cubes, only bigger, used to be a hazard to shipping and stuff."
"I know what icebergs are!  What I wanna know, is how iceberg fit into goin' four 'n' 'alf lightyears to Eywa Eveng and then puttin' in a stuffin' great open cast coal mine, to di up stuff that's lighter that air, and floats!"
"Superconductors ain't lighter than air, that ain't how they work."
"What ..... ever, but still!"
"Icebergs?"
"Yeah, how d'they fit in?"
"OK, so icebergs are big ol' hunks of ice that used to float around in the sea ..... "
"Posing a hazard to shippin'."
"And bridges, and buoys, and anything else out there."
"Yeah, so?"
"They weren't stable, as ice melted off the top by the sun, they'd become unstable, and could roll round unexpectedly, because, err, well, they weren't stable."
"And floating mountains are the same."
"How should I know? Nut yeah, if you start with a big old mountain that bein' held up by a load of floaty super conductive stuff, and you strip all that out, then what's to stop it from comin' crashing down, potentially killing anyone inside doing the mining, not to mention on the ground bellow it. OR it might roll round, and what was the floor becomes the wall, or the ceilin'!"
"And what is now the floor was the wall."
"Or the ceiling, or the hole you dug you're way in through."
"And out you drop, nasty! Hadn't thought of that."
"Maybe they did, so they're diggin' it up from places with a weaker magnetic field."
"Well, I guess that's mart."
"Which is probly the flaw in the logic, PGRDA and smart."
"Two thing you don't often see in the same sentence."
"Nah. Incompetence, negligence, laxity, overspending, byzantine bureaucracy, bribery, corruption, fraud, embezzlement, nepotism, yes! Smart ..... not so much."
"You can say that, err, I mean, 'I whole heartedly agree with that statement.' "
"Coward."
"Meh."

[Toliman]

Kea tìkin ulte txantsan, next good part

[archaic]

Part 116

Spoiler: Biscuitslessnessees.

"Well, this is depressing!"
"Mmm."
"Tea?"
"Mmm. Nice idea. Any bickies left?"
"Nah, greedy lot scoffed most of 'em and only left us with two!"
"Which we had with our first cupper of the night."
"Which they failed to mention during the hand over."
"Great. Did I mention depressing already?"
"No, that was me."
"Oh yeah, my turn then. So, this is depressing!"
"You can say that again."
"So, this is depressing!"
"Why not call the cab company and get them to bring you a packet of biscuits?"
"So Pash, what do you know about cabs?"
"Tony 'n' Raul ran out of biscuits, they get cab to get some. Raul say 'it's a very expensive way to buy 'em'. What that mean?"
"Ok, so, yeah, it is a very expensive way to buy biscuits, or anything else, come to that."
"You need to explain money. Good luck with that!"
"Cheers Francis." Chris said, slightly bitterly, he was not looking forward to explaining money, he sighed deeply "So, OK,  we have something called money. You earn it doing one thing, and you spend it, you exchange it for, well, practically anything!"
"Bit vague, technically true, but just ..... well, a bit vague."
"Ììììììììì."
"OK, we come to work here, in the museum, and the museum gives us money for doing our work. These are called wages ..... "
"I earn a wage, Chris earns a wage, we all earn wages. They can be called a salary too sometimes."
" ..... yeah, lets stick to wages, for now. I earn a wage, which is the money I can spend on what ever I want ..... "
"In theory."
" ..... I want to live in an apartment, so I pay the owner of the apartment some money, and I can live in the apartment he owns. This money is called rent. I also want to use electricity to power all my things, the lights, my fridge, cooker, microwave ..... "
"Kettle."
" ..... kettle, computer, viewscreen charger. So I have to pay money for the electricity I use. I also want to use water, to drink, to wash with, making food ..... And I have to pay for the water I use."
"The money for a place to live is 'rent'. The money or electricity and water, that's 'bills'."
"And so is insurance, but that's something for another night. Err, where was I?"
"Paying rent, and bills, then wondering how the hell you'll make the rest of the money last the rest of the month, especially after you pay to commute."
"Ììììììì. Huh?"
"To get to where I work I need to use a train, well, a series of trains. The first part is a regular train, then I change trains and use a train that goes underground, in tunnels, I change a couple more times, and I get out not far from here, and walk the rest of the way."
"My commute to work, works out as the first hour and twenty minutes of work. After that I'm actually being payed so I can pay for rent, bills, groceries and anything else I still feel rich enough to afford."
"Yeah, hour 'n' twen'y minutes, sounds about right."
"What happen if you not have money?"
"Then you can't pay for stuff, no food, no electricity, no water, no roof over your head."
"No tea."
"Good god! I didn't wanna traumatize her!" Francis whispered hoarsely to Chris in a very conspiratorial manner.
"You go hunt?"
"Err, no. Nothing out there to hunt, and even if there was, they made it illegal, back when, err, before, when there was still stuff out there, they tried to protect it."
"Made a bleedin' fine job of that." Francis, sarcastically, but with a sizeable hint of regret too.
"Yeah. Mind you, no shortage or rats out there." Chris, miserably.
"Yay ..... woo." Francis, equally miserably.
"I need a biscuit."
"Cab fare?"
"Hmmph ..... Go halves?"
"Hmmmmmmmmmmmmwhat the hell, go on then."
"You've got your viewscreen in your hand."
"You've git yours in your pocket."
Chris looked pleadingly at Francis.
"You look like an over fed dog, trying to screw one more mouthful out of some unsuspecting kid's last forkful of dinner."
"You were that kid, weren't you?"
Francis gave Chris a mean stare.
"Hi, can I get a cab to pick up a packet, actually make that two packets of milk chocolate Hobnobs, and a packet of Jaffa Cakes, for delivery to the side door of the New British Museum, please? .... Francis Gonçalves ..... " Francis sighed meaningfull " ..... Francis Rodwell Gonçalves ..... Uh-huh ..... Half an hour? Sure! ..... We'll have the card ready ..... No, I can imagine ..... Just hit the door bell. No, thank you! Oh, right, well see you soon. Bye for now!" Francis hung up.
"I never knew you had a middle name."
"Yeah." Francis sounded wretched, he knew where this was going.
"Rodwell."
"Rodwell was the name of a company who unblocked drains and sewers round our way. Mom 'n' Dad swore blind they'd never heard of 'em when they named me. Which I genuinely believed. Until I had a long chat with one of the  neighbours, when we sold the house after they died. He lived four houses along, been there years 'n' years."
"I can see a punchline approaching."
"Nah, this is a true story. Truly. He used to work for Rodwell, had a van, all sign written up with the company name and everything, used to park it on his driveway. Mom 'n' Dad used to go past that bleedin' van every soddin' day till I must've been about two, then he gets a new job, with a promotion. No more company van. Which is why I never remembered it from when I was a kid. Thank you very much parents, named me after the people what unblock the bleeding sewers! So generally, I won't use it. Not if I can help it, anyway. So, as you can imagine, my life was hell at school! Not a lot of happy memories." Francis was not happy to be raking over this somewhat sore subject.
"At least you're not bitter about it."
"Not helpin'."
"Well, how d'ya fancy a biscuit, to banish those blues."
"Sounds good."
"Soz, no bickies, not for half an hour. Or so."
"So, we're biscuitsless."
"Yep."
"Houston, we have a problem, we have encountered a biscuits situation."
"Houston, this is NBM Base, we have biscuitslessness."
"We are biscuitslessnessees."
"Indeed we are."
"Hmm, I'm not wholly sure biscuitslessnessee is in the dictionary, mind."
"Be reasonable, you can't expect 'em to have every single flippin' word in the dictionary. The book'd be hooj, verging on mahoosive!"
"Or a nice pocket sized app, and an online data base, that can be as hoojly mahoosive as you like."
"I s'pose."
"biscuitslessnessee, noun, person, party or entity, in a state of biscuitslessness."
"Biscuitslessness, word meaning a situation featurin' a state of lacking in biscuits. See also Chronic Biscuit Deficiency Syndrome."
"There might be a few stale crumbs left."
"All right, Chronic Biscuit Deficiency Spectrum Disorder."
"What you writing there, Pash?"
"I try write down everything you say."
"Clever, good practice."
"Ìììì, you use words I not know how to spell."
Francis peered in the sketch pad's direction, Pasha spun it round, and slid it toward him.
"Yeah, so, that's not how you spell 'biskit', for a start."
"You too busy arguing, you not teaching me."
"She does have a point."
"So, why isn't 'isn't' in the dictionary."
"It's contractual."
"Still not teaching."
"OK, so biscuit it spelled 'B' 'i' 's' 'c' 'u' 'i' t' ."
"Ìììììì ..... OK ..... look funny."
"So, English ain't 'phonetic', you can't just see a word written down and necessarily know how to pronounce it."
"And you can't hear a word and just know how to spell it."
"No, true."
Pasha looked confused.
"Yeah, welcome to the world of spelling, this is where you find that English is a complete and total utter mess!"
"Yeah, English is reckoned to be one of the hardest languages to learn. Because, while there are rules, and fiendishly difficult brain scramblingly complicated rules, most of 'em have exceptions."
"Pretty sure every rule has exceptions! English has been hooverin' up words from other languages since before it even came into being as such. English isn't so much a language, as a train wreck of other languages mashed together. Viking, French, Saxon, several original British tribal languages and dialects ..... "
"Some Latin, a bit of Greek, with a dirt great pile of random words from India, Africa, the Americas, right across Europe, the Middle East. Everywhere, basically!"
"Yeah, and those words obey the rules of their own language, not ours, so when they arrive, they just add 'em to the 'Exceptions' pile."
"Exceptions mountain, more like it."
"Mmm, true."
"Some of those words have been 'Anglicized' ..... "
"What Anglicized mean?"
"To take somethin' that's not English, and make it more like what it would be, if it was English. So if it's a word, you modify the spelling, maybe the pronunciation. Go to far, and you have a new word all together."
"Yeah, so the French word Café has a thingy-bob on the 'e' ..... "
"Accent?"
"So zee French word 'Café' it 'as zee singy-bob on zee 'e' ..... " Francis, in a comedy French accent.
"Funny. So, the 'Thingy-bob' on the 'e' is a mark above it, to let you know it's not pronounced in the regular way. And because of the way English works, it would be pronounced 'Caff', but it's a 'loan word' from French and it obeys the French rules, so it's Café. But, you do hear people pronounce it Caff, and you do see it written without the accent on the 'e' ..... "
"Which is nuts, really, coz' then it should be pronounced Cafe, to rhyme with safe and waif and ..... Err."
"..... chafe, and strafe, and .... some others."
"Which neither of us can think of."
"Mmm. Yeah, so, Cafe, you do hear some people call it a cafe, regardless of how its spelled, but then you also hear people call it a caff, regardless of how it's spelled, as well."
"And then you get ambitious Caff owners  ..... "
"Café owners."
Francis gave Chris mean a look.
"Caff owners, who try and get creative with spellin's 'n' all."
"Yeah, like swapping the 'c' for a 'k'.
"Or a 'q'."
"Really?"
"Yeah, there's a Qäph round the corner from me, 'q' 'a' with a bleedin' umlaut 'p' 'h'. Food's alright, trouble is, they really embraced the whole misspelling thing."
"Sounds like fun." Chris sounded doubtful.
"Yeah, they've had complaints. So, now the menu is available in original misspellin's, and also in mostly correct spellings, with just a couple of actually accidental mistakes, bunged in for good measure."
"Nice. Err, so where were we?"
"Busy being an biscuitlessnessee. Or two."
"Oh, that."
"Mmm."
"Right, err ..... Any other words you want to know how to spell, Pash?"
"Ìììì, srane!"

Edit:- too much italic, fixed.

[Toliman]

Txantsan, good writing!

[archaic]

Irayo.      

[Toliman]

Kea tìkin

[archaic]

Part 117

Spoiler: A whole new inaccurate conspiracy theory.

"Mornin' Francis."
"Mornin' Dino."
"How we doin'?"
"Well I'm stood outside freezin' my unmentionables off!"
"It is a bit on the cool side."
"Mmm."
"Pasha asleep?"
"Yup."
"Tea?"
"Crhis was making it when I left him."
"Biscuits?"
"Yeah, and I wanted to mention that, when we took over from Mark 'n' Kyle last night, there was a cuppa waiting for us." Francis, slightly annoyed.
"I'm not seeing a problem?"
"Oh, it gets better! A bickie was parked by each mug."
"Considerate."
"That's we we thought."
"But?"
"Yeah, but, what they never told us, was that that was it. They were the last two in stock ..... "
"Less considerate."
" ..... so we had to get a cabbie to grab us some more."
"Expensive."
"Yeah." Francis, with some emphasis.
"Could've given you a heads up, before you got in."
"Yeah! I go past several shops that would've sold me some. Would've been somewhat cheaper!"
"At least you survived, to tell the tale.
"Bank balance took a hit!"
"You didn't go halves?"
"We both took a hit."
"Any left?"
"Most of a packet of chocky Hobnobs, plus we both now have a packet tucked away in case of disasters."
"Yeah, me 'n' Paul've both got a packet stashed, just in case."
"Wish I'd thought of that before last night."
"Hindsight, eh."
"Mmm."
"Speaking of Paul."
"Mornin' Dino, morning Francis."
"Paul."
"Morning."
"Did someone say tea?"
"Chris's got in on the go. Probly drinkable by now."

"Morning."
"Morning."
"Morning."
"Morning."
"Tea."
"Cheers."
"Cheers."
"Hobnob?"
"Cheers."
"Cheers."
"Heard about the biscuit situation last night, anything else we need to know?"
"As far as the museum goes, same as yesterday, and last week, and the month before."
"Exciting."
"Pasha has news."
"Oh? Who's the father?"
"Not that kind of news. Honestly Paul!"
"Sorry. So, what gives?"
"Santa, but only if you're good."
"Which rules out Paul, right away."
"Thank you Dino! Find out who your friends are round 'ere."
"You want know, or not?"
"Yeah, sorry Pash. Please, do tell."
"They going to put mining town on Eywa Eveng."
Paul and Dino laughed.
"You're not serious! You are serious."
"Sran."
"How?"
"They have meeting to work out how. Very secret. No one must know. Candice, Stan and one, I not remember her name. More meeting next week."
"Rachael something, err, Sandford?"
"Sandwell."
"That's it, Sandwell, Rachael Sandwell."
"Lot effort to keep secret things they say."
"Yeah, that worked out well."
"Mmm."
"Mmm."
"Didn' it jus'!"
"They not know I know English. So safe to talk in front."
"And you didn't tell them?"
"Kehe. Why I say?"
"Good point, well, thank you for, err, well, um, thanks."
"We speculated further last night, we think they're going to open a mine that's colossally loss making, in order to increase the sticker price, and sell a whole lot more they're gonna be manufacturing here."
"Here?"
"Here. Well, somewhere round the solar system.
"Hell, who knows, maybe they've got someplace here on Earth they can create it."
"Someplace out of sight, forgotten about, with a sizable power supply, and where you can sneak it in with the stuff they bring back from Pan', err ..... "
"Eywa Eveng?"
"Eywa Eveng."
"You have someplace in mind?"
"No, but I know where I'd look."
"Yeah?"
"I'd wanna ask a question, the PGRDA bought that old NASA place, New Mexico, I think. Would there, by any chance, just so happen to be, a long forgotten nuclear bunker complex under neath it?"
"And it just so happens I can answer that question for you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah! No. There ain't."
"You sound very sure of that."
"Yeah, well I know a man who wanted to put a big old facility under there. Wan'ed to do some muon research where it wouldn't be affected by background radiation. NASA thought it was a good idea, so they did a complete, high res geo survey."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, apparently, it's not suitable. Not for that kinda complex. Apparently, the USAF drilled a load of bore holes, back in the nineteen fifties, came to the same conclusion back then."
"That's disappointing."
"Mmm."
"So how'd you know this person?"
"So, his daughter is my mom."
"Sounds plausible."
"I'm not so sure, are you sure you didn't come out of a novelty vending machine?"
"Screw you!"
"O'course, it doesn't mean they can't still manufacture it elsewhere."
"Nah, that's true."
"So, I think we just created our first conspiracy theory."
"YAY!"
"WOOHOO!"
"WHAT HE SAID!"
"GENTLEMEN, oh, and, err, and Pasha, obvs, err. Yeah, to conspiracies, may god bless them ..... "
"Eywa."
" ..... Eywa?"
"Eywa."
"Eywa, err. May Eywa bless them ..... "
"An' all who sail in 'em."
"HOORAY!"
"YAY WOO!"
"WHAT HE SAID!"
"I believe it's traditional at this point to crack open a bottle of champagne."
"Mmm. Shame we ain't got none."
"We could crack open a packet of Jaffa Cakes?"
"Thank you Francis." Chris, with a hint or bitterness.
"Jaffa Cakes? S'good enough for me."
"You ever worry we've all hung around with Mark, for like way too long?"
"I think resigned to it, rather than worrying. But, maybe?"

[Toliman]

Txantsan, good writing again!

[archaic]

Delayed due to writer's block, my apologies

Part 118

Spoiler: Hybrid psyonics.

"So, Candice, what did you 'n' Stan and who ever that was, talk about."
"Well, Warren, it's need to know."
"As your manager, I feel I need to be in the loupe on this."
"You are assuming they wanted my input, as a member of this department?"
"Well, yeah."
"And has it occurred to you, they might want something else?"
"They came here, during working hours."
"And included no other member of the team. A team made up of individuals with unrivaled expertise in multiple fields of Pandoran research?"
"I feel it's something I need to know."
"The meeting was here because we have an sound damped area."
"A what?"
"It's not fully acoustically isolated, but it's better than most areas I know of, and which would be both practical, and potentially available to hold a meeting inside."
"I see." Warren, in his best steely manager voice.
Candice sniggered.
"Yeah, that so doesn't work on me." Candice didn't care, she had no need to, she was independently wealthy, very wealthy, and she was very good friends with people right at the very top of the PGRDA tree.
"You were using this department's resources, without consulting me."
"OK, lets look at this, shall we? People way way above you in this organization, sent other people, who are also way above you, to have a meeting with me, here. And ..... what, exactly? You think I should be held accountable? I would absolutely love to hear you explain the logic behind that position."
"You think you're so cleaver, don't you?"
"So, I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer."
"We both have work to do, I suggest we both get on with it."
"Well, I have work to do, you have cat videos to watch. Good chat, by the way, we must do this more often."
Warren muttered something darkly under his breath, as Candice strode purposefully out of his office with a smile.

"Good Morning, I'm looking for a Dr Forsen? Err,  Candice Forsen?"
"And you are?"
"Ah, yes, my name is Dr. Cordell Lovecraft." 
"Can I ask what this is about?
"I'm only authorized to discuss that with her."
"Well, you found me."
"Ah! Err, well, err, I understand you've already had discussions with Stan and Rachael?"
"There has been communication."
"I understand there is somewhere we can talk? And, and, err ..... "
"Not be overheard?"
" ..... Erm, well, yeah."
"One moment."
Candice walked over to Warren's door, it was open, many managers like to say their door is always open, but warren's actually was. The door had been hung before the carpet had been laid. It was top quality, was thick and luxurious, it was thick. Unfortunately, it was a little too thick, and meant closing the door was all but impossible. Assuming anyone did wrestle it closed, there would then be the not inconsiderable job of opening it again. Before the end of his second day, Warren had decided to pretty much leave the door permanently open. Warren was still unsure if Candice's gift of a 'My door is always open' sign, was heartfelt and generous, or just her poking fun at him. He hung it on the door none the less. He insisted he believed it was the former, but in truth, he knew Candice too well for that.
"Mr boss sir please, begging your pardon and everything."
"Well this is new."
"So, we'll be using the sound damping chamber, I do hope you don't mind."
"I see, and if I do mind?"
"You can hurl as many insults in my direction as you like with complete impunity."
"Err ..... "
"It means there won't be any repercussions."
" ..... I know what impunity means!"
"Oh! Well, fair enough then! Shall I assume that you have no objections?"
"You know what happens when we assume?"
"Well, as a scientist, what happens is that I fully lay out those assumptions before hand. If any of them are at variance with the encountered, my donkey is covered."
"Err ..... "
"You do know you said 'Err' already?"
Warren gave Candice a nasty look.
"Fine. Use the Damn thing, see if I care." Warren, with considerable annoyance.
"It's OK Warren, we're already aware that you don't." Candice, sounding more friendly than she usually did when talking to Warren.
Warren gave Candice another nasty look, she looked at him and vaguely wondered what he might look like if he smiled. Thinking about it, she couldn't recall him ever smiling, at least not when he was in the same room as her.
"OK Dr Lovecraft, if you'll follow me?"
Candice activated the lock down, doors swung closed, the window shutter closed, there were clunks and hisses, and the outside sounds were gone.
"It's safe to talk."
"What about that thing?"
"The Pandoran Specimen Humanoid doesn't talk. It does vocalize, but we have yet to observe anything that even hints at any potential for actual speech. We're hoping to recruit someone to do a more thorough investigation of it's vocalizations, Mostly for the sake of rigorous completeness."
"You ..... "
"I know who you are, I am aware of the Dark Dreamer project."
" ..... that simplifies things."
"Yeah, not so much. I have, shall we say, the gravest of misgivings vis-à-vis the ethics of the work?"
"Is this about the twins?"
"Tip of a spectacularly ugly iceberg, but yeah, among other things, the twins." Candice, in her steeliest tone of voice,.
"They came to me, well, the surviving twin did, her sister had stroke, was stone cold dead, when I first encountered her. She was hooked up to life support machines, but she was gone! Would you know what what I meant if I said brain stem death?"
"I would. I still have the gravest of ethical concerns, however."
"Look, they were, that is to say that, well, I, err, well ..... "
"Yes?"
Cordell sighed deeply.
"One was a mortician, family business, the other escaped the family business, got as far as M E."
"Hmm."
"Dead bodies weren't didn't carry the same I don't know, the, err ..... "
"Morbidity? Eww factor? Frankenstein connotations?"
"Look, I'm not some Frankensteinesk mad scientist trying to raise the dead here!"
"As I understand it, you are trying to project the consciousness of one living being into the lifeless body of another."
"If I can project the consciousness, from one to another. And if I clone a complete new body or someone with, say, locked in syndrome, it could allow them to lead a near normal life. Don't you think that's a worthwhile goal?"
"You are aware a severed spinal cord can be repaired?"
"At very considerable cost!"
"Not in countries where there's a state provided health system, which is free, or at least free at the point of need?"
"Some patients are less appropriate for that procedure, and then there's the long term therapy to get them fully back to somewhere near normality."
"As opposed to cloning a new body for them, inducing brain stem death within that clone, not to mention the use of the psyonic linking equipment, or indeed the on going medium to long term care of the paralyzed body?"
"They'd be able to care for themselves."
"Would they?"
"OK, so, I think we need to get back on track here."
"Which is what, exactly?"
"Pandora is hostile."
"It is."
"We are not evolved for that environment."
"So?"
"They are."
Cordell pointed to Pasha.
"If  you;'re about to suggest we train them to do the work on Pandora, forget it!"
"You have created hybrid organisms, part Earth based, part Pandora based?"
"Plants, yeah. And not without an extremely significant amount of work, I have to say."
"But it worked."
"It appeasers to have, study is ongoing, no firm conclusions are at a stage where they could be published."
"I want to create hybrids, send them down to the surface to do the work, if anything happened, they're expendable. And if we did find a way to communicate with the natives, we could look at training them to do the heavy lifting of the project, construction, labour, that kinda thing."
"Well, I have to say, I am genuinely impressed!"
"You are?"
"Yeah, this is by some margin the most crackpot idea I've had pitched to me, period! And that's quite something, I really didn't expect anyone to out crackpot the last pitch, but this sure takes the cake, and the prize for most bonkers I have encountered in, well, certainly my adult life."
"Well, could I at least obtain a sample of it's DNA, and maybe a copy of the hybrid plant write up?
Candice closed her eyes, and massaged her eyelids in a way that implied she might be nursing a headache.
"Fine! I still think it's nuttier than squirrel stool, but there you go. Apparently there's a lot of it going around lately."

[Toliman]

Txantsan, good writing

Delayed due to writer's block, my apologies

No need to apologize

[archaic]

I always aim to post on Mondays and Thursdays.

Part 119

Spoiler: Blue prints.

"What 'psionic' mean?"
"Err ..... "
"What?"
"Psionic."
"Not a clue."
"Nah, beats me, err, in connection with what?"
"Ìììììì, Psionic linking, theory and practice. Man gave Candice a puk he made, it called that."
"Err ..... "
"Hang on, psionic linking, here we go ..... 'Psionics, noun, portmanteau of Psychic [phenomena] and Electronics, hypothetical technology, using electronic apparatus to impart, augment or in other ways aid the psychic ability(s) of an individual(s), or group(s)' Hmm, hypothetical."
"What 'hypothetical' mean?"
"Err, well, it means it's only an idea, no one has actually made it."
Pasha looked doubtful.
"I am here at the museum, I drink tea while I'm here, usually out of this mug. Hypothetically I could have a mug of tea to drink, but I don't have any tea, the mug is empty, bereft of tea, my thirst unquenched. I have no tea, only an aching sadness in my soul, and ..... "
"OK, OK, I'll make the damn tea!"
"Well, I made the last one, so it is your turn."
"Fine, fine, fine."
"Apparently it's fine."
"Sran, I got that."
"Mmm, so, I know how to make the tea, I know where everything is to make tea, I know we have everything needed to make the tea, I could make it, but ..... "
"Yeah, but I'm making the blessed tea, OK?"
" ..... yeah, it's absolutely fine. Hypothetically, I could make the tea, but Francis is making it instead, after I only dropped a couple dozen hints, which is a lot less than average."
"Blah, blah blah!"
"Hypothetically, he could have made it earlier, but he didn't."
"Yeah, screw you, you know what? Why don't you just shut up and just explain what 'hypothetical' means?"
"I was, but somebody interrupted me."
"So hypothetical mean something that could be, but doesn't be, ìììììì, isn't."
"Exactly."
"Think understand."
"Right, where were we?"
"Psionic linking, theory and practice, a book by some guy given to miss money bags by the author."
"OK, yeah, so, yeah, psionic linking, not real, but possibly could be?"
"Guy name Dr. Cordell Lovecraft."
"Hmm, lets 'ave a look ..... Francis consulted his pocket viewscreen " .....Dr. Cordell Lovecraft ..... Hmm ..... Wow, he's definitely gonna be on Santa's naughty list!"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah! Unethical experimentation on animals, death row prison inmates, and twins. Denied working on reanimating the dead. Insisted therapeutic treatment for locked in syndrome, yada, yada, yada. Oh wow, I think Santa needs to start a whole new very extra specially naughty list, just for this guy!"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, he's been a really bad boy! And his doctorate ain't in medicine!"
"No?"
"Nah, say's 'ere electronic engineering!"
"So what does mister dodgy, with his shonky doctorate, want with our resident billionairhead, I mean heiress, yeah heiress. Funding?"
"Kehe, oe."
"You?"
"Sran, he want me."
"Err, any idea why?"
"Ììììììì ..... Srane?"
"Yeah?"
"Go on."
"They spend long time, much work, make plants that part plant from Earth, part plant from Eywa Eveng, make .... ìììì, errrrrr ..... hybrids?"
"OK?"
"They want use me to make hybrids."
"Your DNA?"
"Not understand."
"Oh jeez, DNA, OK, so ...... blueprints, what are blueprints? Why are blueprints blue?" Chris, working over the inevitable conversation.
Yeah, why are blueprints blue?"
"Well, if they were pink, they'd be called pink prints."
"You've no idea."
"Nope, none, err ..... OK, when humans make things, we figure out exactly how to make it. For example, this table. Someone decided what it should look like generally. Then someone worked exactly what it would need to make that. They did a load of design work on a computer, and the computer filled in all the details, such as materials requirement, cutting list, costings, generated files for the manufacture, and packaging."
Pasha looked blankly at Chris, he might as well have been talking an alien language.
"Nah, I reckon you need to stick with blueprints, they're drawings. And that's something we can all get our heads round."

[Toliman]

Read right now, txantsan

[archaic]

Part 120

Spoiler: No illusions.

"Mornin' Francis."
"Mornin' Dino."
"How we doin'?"
"Well I'm stood outside freezin' my unmentionables off, and gettin' a distinct sense of Déjà vu."
"Déjà vu? What is it?"
"It's where you get a feeling that you've been somewhere, or done something before."
"I see." Dino, giving Francis a slightly despairing look "Pasha asleep?"
"Yup."
"Tea?"
"Chris was making it when I left him."
"Biscuits?"
"Yeah, so, Déjà vu? Not goin' away much." Francis, slightly annoyed.
"Well, I hope you won't hate me, but I'm dying for a cuppa. So, I'm not hanging about out here today, so I'll leave you to freeze, no offense."
"None taken."

Dino found Chris by the door to Maintenance's shop.
"Morning Chris." Dino whispered
"Morning Dino." Chris whispered back, handing Dino a cup of tea.
"Cheers."
"You're welcome."
"So, Pasha?"
"Still fast asleep. Hence the whispering?"
"What's the latest?"
"Reading's getting better, writing is good, spelling is a hernia."
"Yeah, that was always gonna be a b****."
"Mmm. Oh, and apparently some guy wants Pasha's DNA, to make hybrid Na'vi human hybrids."
"You said hybrid already."
"Whatever. Yeah, so ..... I say Na'vi DNA ..... What do the Na'vi have as geneticy stuff anywho?"
"Search me."
"Aparently Xenobiology had functioning Pandoran slash Earth hybrid plants, up and growing, before they moved in, but apparently Candice is not sure Na'vi 'n' human hybrids would even work."
"So ..... Ethics?"
"I wouldn't worry about the ethics. No one else seems to these days."
"Least of all the PGRDA."
"Ed Zachary."
"Who-ever."
"Had to explain DNA to Pasha. That was fun." Chris didn't make sound like it was fun.
"I'll bet!"
"Mmm, I dunno, something like three hours of going round in circles, trying to explain DNA and comparing it to blueprints, and then having to explain what blueprints were, and then paper design, and CAD, and ..... you get the idea."
"Sounds like fun."
"Mmm, maybe closer to four hours, thinking about it."
"Oh."
"Yeah, the Na'vi really don't go in for design, or working drawings, they just make things free-form, using whatever they've got to hand. With just an over all idea of what they want. And the more times they make a something, the better they get next time. Assuming what they have to make it with is any good."
Dino looked a Chris confused.
"Yeah, I know, but, apparently, that's how they do things on Eywa Eveng."
"Well, I guess ..... How hard can it be to make a bow and arrow? Two sticks, string an' a pointy bit."
"I expect once you've done it a few times, it's as easy as falling off a log, but first time, 's probably trickier."
"How hard can it be?"
"How d'you attach the pointy bit on the arrow?"
"Glue."
"Where d'you get the glue from?"
"Easy, you just ..... Yeah, I see your point."
Dino sired his tea quietly, a far away look on his face, it gradually slid into a confused frown.
"I've been thinking."
"Well, it was either that or you're having a stroke."
Dino gave Chris a reproachful glance.
"Pasha."
"What about her?"
Dino sighed, it was a while before he continued.
"Don't get to close ..... That's all I'm saying."
"You're worried that, as, well, basically, a lab rat, ultimately science sees her as disposable, at least as person, that she'll be dissected, and bits and pieces will be shipped out for the rest of the scientific community to peer at down microscopes? And that I'll be negatively impacted by her death?"
"Yeah, that's about it, actually."
"Yeah, me too, me too."
"How long d'you reckon?"
"Well, on the one hand, I can't think of any particular reason why it couldn't be today, on the other hand they might wanna study her behavior, they might wait ill she dies of natural causes. Before they butcher the body."
"How long would that be?"
"Christ knows, I mean Earth is pretty different to Eywa Eveng. Stronger gravity, different atmosphere, different levels of light and radiation, food's pretty limited, water's distilled H2O. Look, humans have to get all kinds of vitamins and minerals or we get stuff like scurvy and rickets. I have no idea what important things in her food she ain't getting, much less what problems that's gonna cause down the road, or even how far down the road that might be. I don't know how long they live on back home, but I'm pretty sure she's not likely to live that long here."
"Well, on the plus side, there's less predators. So that's gotta be good, hasn't it?"
"I get the feeling they're pretty clued up, on how not to end up as someone else's lunch."
"How long do they live in the wild? Err, that came out wrong, I mean, err ..... "
"What's their life expectancy on Eywa Eveng?"
"Yeah."
"Not a clue."
"Eighty to ninety years, maybe little longer. But not know if your years same as our years."
"How much did you hear?"
"I know I could be, ììììì, what word? 'Vivisection' Yes I get killed and cut up, bits sent all everywhere. Candice say NO, must study alive, learn things you not learn from looking at little dead bits. I hear her, they come, they argue, ayshouting. They go away, I still here. But how long, I not know. Earth will kill Pasha, that I can see, but I not know when ..... or how."

[Toliman]

Txantsan, good writing!

[archaic]

I've hit writer's block pretty hard, so I apologize that it's so short.


Part 121

Spoiler: Getting comfy.

"Look, I'm sorry they did this, I'm sorry about, well ..... everything."
"Not your fault, you not there, you not do this ..... " Pasha held up her stump " ..... you not kill family, friends. Not all these things and more. It not you."
"We did those things, humans. I guess we're not the good guys of the galaxy."
"Kehe, those did this, they dead, killed flying away from Eywa Eveng."
"Hull breach, on the shuttle during the assent to orbit. I know."
"You not there, you not do the things. The bad things. You here, Earth. And you help me now, to get out of ..... ìììììì hutch, vivarium, Pandoran habitat chamber. I find way to get out, you make better, I learn from you English, Poker, writing and. And other things. Being here, I you with, better than stuck in vivarium. This, I sleep better floor than. What call this?"
"Err, it's a bench."
"Bensh good, soft, not hard like floor. Sleep good on bensh."
"It's comfortable."
"Ìììì ..... "
"Comfortable."
"Kxmfteybl?"
"Sran."
"You said 'sran'."
"I did, err, did I get that right?"
"You did."
"Is it OK to say 'sran'?"
"Yes, it OK, kehe, better than OK."
"Comfortable, feels nice, good to sit on. Comfortable can mean shoes, that fit well and feel nice to wear, or clothes, they can be comfortable to wear. Cutlery, knives, forks, spoons, they can be comfortable to hold, and I guess to use too."
"OK."
"And then there's the trains, the old ones were not comfortable, the seats were about a hundred years old, probably hadn't been cleaned in the last twenty, looked like it anyways. They banged over the points, every joint in the rail, where the water tight doors go when you go under the Thames. and any temporary repairs. Nasty, old, worn out, substandard, pieces of ..... " Chris had got carried away, but he halted abruptly, he looked Pasha in the eye. "Yeah, so they were pretty crummy, as it goes. The new ones are much better, seats are way more comfy, the suspension irons out the bumps so much better, and over all way, way more comfortable. And cleaner too."
"Kxmfi?"
"Oh, yeah, it means the same as Comfortable, err, Comfy is just short for it. Comfortable, that is. Err ....."
"Kxmfi mean same as kxmfteybl."
"Yeah, err, srane. When you're thinking, you say 'ìììììì'."
"Sran, and you say 'errrrrrrrr'."
"Yeah, or sometimes 'ermmmmmm' or 'ummmmmm', 'uhhhhh' and ..... err ..... ìììììì, and I'm probably forgetting some."
"Ayhuman, very complicated. 'Ìnglìsì, it very complicated ..... err ..... English, English complicated, very."
"Ayhuman? Oh, humans?"
"Ììììrrrrrrr, yes, humans, ke ayhuman."

[Toliman]

Still very good work Good luck with next writing!

[archaic]

Part 122

Spoiler: A cushion for Pasha.

"Paul, Dino, sleep well?"
"Well, not as long as I'd like but, yeah."
"I slept like the dead."
"How was the coffin?"
"Expensive."
"The eulogy, nice 'n' all?"
"Yeah, Mark, it was. Real glad all the mourners went down the pub for the wake, too." Dino, remarkably dead pan.
"I see we're starting with insanity, I assume we can expect more of the same this evening?"
"Depends what the nursing staff allow us to get away with, Chris."
"I reckon we got a good thing going, we should stick to what we know, and do best."
"OK then." Chris, with a deep sigh.
"Come on, you knew what to expect."
"Yeah, Pasha'll wipe the floor with the lot of us, and remind us of who the smart ones really are!"
"Mmm, you reckon they're all like her, or did we accidentally grab an extra smart genius one?"
"Or did we accidentally grab an extra stupid, uncommonly dumb one? At least by their standards, at any rate."
"Never thought of that."
"Evening people."
"Evening Pasha." came a slightly chaotic chorus of replies.
"I think I am about normal for the Na'vi."
"Huh?"
"I not very extra smart genius, I not extra stupid dumb one."
"So, if mankind ever manages to set up a permanent base on Pan, err, Eywa Eveng, maybe we shouldn't play poker with the locals?"
"Should play poker with Na'vi, definitely for sure."
"We'd loose!"
"Badly!"
"Sran, fì'u."
"Pizza ordered for ten fifteen."
"Yay!"
"Woo!"
"What he said."
"Insert appropriate response here!"
" 'Insert appropriate response here'?"
"Well,  'Yay' and 'Woo' were already taken, and a certain person beet me to my usual go-to 'What he said', so .... you know."
"What ..... ever."
"Yeah, more nutsier."
"OK, so, texas hold 'em anyone?"
"Horse?"
"Get out!"
"And take your unwelcome equestrianism with ya'!"
"Alright, alright, it was just a thought, that's all!"
"I wonder what the horse would've thought?"
"Do horses actually think, as such, like what we does?"
"Who knows?"
"Who cares?"
"Yeah, but ..... "
"If most our customers can get through life without ever stringing a whole complete thought together, I reckon horses probably manage the same."
"So that's a 'no' then?"
"Yep."
"OK then."
"Dealer?"
"No, it's purely for personal use!" Mark, sounding suspiciously defensive, in a tongue in cheek way.
"I mean who's gonna deal the cards!"
"Well, you're holding 'em!"
"Fine! I'll deal, Mark, small blind ..... "
"Who say's I'm small blind?"
"You're sat next to the bleedin' dealer, that makes you Small ..... Blind."
"What makes you think I'm sittin' 'ere?"
"Err, possibly the fact that you're sitting, there."
"Yeah, but I might wanna switch places."
"Anyone wanna switch places with Mark?"
"No."
"Nah."
"Uh-uh."
"Nope."
"Hell no!"
"Kehe."
"Mark, you're small blind, deal with it."
"But if I'm dealing ..... " Mark began, but he stopped as he was pelted with cushions.
Mark lowered his arms from protecting his head, slowly, in case anyone still had a cushion to throw, it looked like he was safe.
"I see everyone's got a cushion except Pasha, poor ..... " Mark began.
"Pash, brought you a cushion." Chris interrupted.
"Irayo ma Chris."
"Nìprrte', ma Pasha."
"So, everyone threw their cushion at me, except ..... "
Pasha's cushion hit Mark full in the face, at least it was the cushion thrown most gently.
"Oh I see how it is now."
"Yeah, quit winging, or you get a cushion in the face."
"Well padded gratuitously violent brutality."
"Ever heard of anyone gettin' beaten to death soft comfy cushion?"
"No."
"So, tonight may be a first, then."
"Are you gonna put your half stake in, or what Mark?"
"What are the bids?"
"One match stick small blind, two match sticks large blind, and all subsequent bets." Dino, patiently.
"But what if I wanna ..... "
"NO! Just, leave it simple, it's bad enough being beaten every week by a space alien from a stone age culture ..... "
"Ìì, Candice say's we're technically pre-stone age, we don't use stone tools."
"Do you use stone tools?"
"Yeah."
"I thought so."
"Just they not collect any, when took me."
"So, that's naught out of several hundred to Xenobiology, and the Pandoran studies lot."
"Science pukes, what d'you expect?"
"Well, you'd've thought they'd've got something by now, s'been well over a month now!"
"Don't rush 'em."
"Yeah, but mean time, we've taught Pasha how to play poker, really well ..... "
"A little too well, if you ask me."
" ..... That's only cause we're such excellent teachers, obvs. And we're teaching 'er English, and readin' 'n' writin'! What 'ave they spent the last month 'n' a bit doin'? Poking a few rocks, and playin' with hybrid plants."
Pasha knew it was actually a bit more than that, but she didn't feel like defending them.
"Don't forget the meetin's, very important is your meetin's"
"I'll see your two matchsticks, and I'll raise you my entire bank account!"
"So that's zip then."
"Precisely."
"I'll see your two match sticks, your entire bank account, and I'll raise it by twice as much!"
"Ten times as much!
"One thousand times as much!!!"
"Not only all money I have, but all money I ever have!" Pasha wasn't going to be out done.
"I'll see your two match sticks." Chris, rolling his eyes "This is gonna be a long night!"

[Toliman]

Txantsan, excellent work again