Speaker 1: Follows the production of my R Radio. This episode contains
Speaker 1: depictions of drug use in mild violence a second oil.
Speaker 1: Most of my job comes down to first impressions, a
Speaker 1: little intimidation, the questions, the digging, the hand dirty ng
Speaker 1: that always comes later. When I arrived at Atlas, I
Speaker 1: arrived as a symbol for decorum's sake. I slipped a
Speaker 1: black wool cap over my cranial tattoos. I hid my
Speaker 1: neck with a scarf calm collected, evened out by the
Speaker 1: basilisk drug. I strolled out into the gladious cargo bay.
Speaker 1: Two land spoke security guards in gray and navy awaited
Speaker 1: me just inside the loading door. Their communits were strapped
Speaker 1: to their chests, police style you dex logos on their shoulders.
Speaker 1: One of them brandished a squid gun. The others scrolled
Speaker 1: the menu items on his communit's hollow display. He didn't
Speaker 1: even look up. Sigh, nove pan sure ambassador credentials. Do
Speaker 1: I need to ask you about firearms? Or did they
Speaker 1: do that? On the other end, I just have knives,
Speaker 1: a bunch of knives. An ambassador with knives. She's a
Speaker 1: company murk Jack's according to her name tag. I ignored
Speaker 1: her look of contempt and nodded at the blunt nosed
Speaker 1: weapon in her hands, or more specifically, at the tape
Speaker 1: masked sensor mounted on top of it. Nice squid gun. Yeah, well,
Speaker 1: welcome to the bottom. Squid guns are everywhere, and I
Speaker 1: wasn't surprised to see one on Atlas. They fire specially
Speaker 1: designed lumps of meta gel. When it hits, it wraps
Speaker 1: around you like a foe armed bolo, glues you right
Speaker 1: to the floor, the wall, or whatever hapless jerk showed
Speaker 1: up at the wrong protest scale the gel with the
Speaker 1: side of the gun and it melts off. It's the
Speaker 1: most popular compliance weapon on the market and non lethal,
Speaker 1: provided you don't fire it at someone's face. That's where
Speaker 1: the cranium recognition scanner comes in. Tape up the CRS
Speaker 1: and you're either a psycho or someone who wants the reputation.
Speaker 1: I wasn't entirely sure which category she fell into yet,
Speaker 1: but I suspected the ladder. I've seen what happens when
Speaker 1: a squid hits someone in the face, usually with enough
Speaker 1: force to blacken both eyes, maybe break the nose. It
Speaker 1: wraps itself around the head, even pours into the mouth.
Speaker 1: That's when the clawing starts. The basilisk took the sting
Speaker 1: out of the memory for me, but it still gave
Speaker 1: me pause. Director Hoffman says he can meet with you
Speaker 1: now or at that work, your choice. I think he
Speaker 1: also has some time tomorrow. I'm kind of on a schedule.
Speaker 1: Let's do it now this way, ambassador. As they led
Speaker 1: me out of the sub bay, we ventured down the
Speaker 1: first of many compact hallways through hatches that would auto
Speaker 1: seal in the event of a breach. They'd dissembled the
Speaker 1: station out of preconstructed modules like a space station, to
Speaker 1: ubes and wires trailed through the hallway, pinned neatly to
Speaker 1: the ceiling. They occasionally sneaked away into maintenance conduits, but
Speaker 1: mostly remained open and serviceable. It felt more like a
Speaker 1: trek through the bowels of some giant parasite ridden beheemoth
Speaker 1: than a human habitat. There were no viewing portholes, of course,
Speaker 1: With some three hundred atmospheres of pressure outside, the hull
Speaker 1: windows were an extravagance, so was space itself. The earliest
Speaker 1: deep sea explorers squeezed into beach ball sized steel capsules
Speaker 1: for a reason more leg room would have required thicker structure.
Speaker 1: Engineering has come a long way since the nineteen thirties,
Speaker 1: but industrial design, like evolution itself, is a miser. Keep
Speaker 1: it small, keep it cheap. The guards led me through
Speaker 1: cramped hallways, passed doorways to chambers and offices no bigger
Speaker 1: than bathrooms. Dolls, mobility aids would make life difficult. Here.
Speaker 1: We passed other uniformed U DEX employees, probably landsfolk. They
Speaker 1: walked almost hand in hand, conversed as closely as lovers
Speaker 1: in a park. Personal space was probably the first concept
Speaker 1: to die down here, so I was surprised when we
Speaker 1: emerged into a much larger module. As it opened up
Speaker 1: around us, the ceiling seemed vaulted, like the roof of
Speaker 1: some unfinished deep sea basilica. But I quickly realized the
Speaker 1: space consisted of several large convergent spherical chambers. Stalls and
Speaker 1: merch stands filled the space, all of it packed so
Speaker 1: tightly that members of the crowd frequently squeezed past and
Speaker 1: around each other like insects in a neon hive. They
Speaker 1: bought coffee from an automated food They stood in line
Speaker 1: to update their communits with the latest virus free dose
Speaker 1: of news and celebrity schadenfreude. They gobbled clam rolls from
Speaker 1: foil pouches and conversed in tight clusters around shared hollow displays.
Speaker 1: It was all the usual surface world crap, only stuffed
Speaker 1: into a tighter package, less air circulation. Amid the mingled
Speaker 1: aromas of beer, ramen and sweat, we moved through the swarm.
Speaker 1: I had to dial down my reflexes the first time
Speaker 1: someone squeezed past me, but I'm a professional. Out of
Speaker 1: the corner of my eye, I noted two recombined women
Speaker 1: in dark wetsuits. They were both bald except for tattoos
Speaker 1: of octopods and squid arms, dolphins, and spills of phytoplate.
Speaker 1: I noted the lines of neck frills above the high
Speaker 1: collars of their suits, the slight ridges that protruded from
Speaker 1: their skulls. The one on the left blink dat me
Speaker 1: with her secondary transparent eyelids. We passed by one of
Speaker 1: those franchise joints where you wear VR goggles in a
Speaker 1: massage chair and a cramped bar called the barrel ee.
Speaker 1: I was gazing at its weird neon fish sign when
Speaker 1: a bottle of pists exploded on the steel wall behind us.
Speaker 1: Hi free jack ass crap Jack's didn't waste any time.
Speaker 1: He fired up the squid. As the piste thrower shoved
Speaker 1: his way through the crowd, she missed. Of course. The
Speaker 1: projectile crashed through the side of a sausage stand and
Speaker 1: wrapped itself around a pair of hanging skillets. But I
Speaker 1: marked the guy. I gave into the urge, you know,
Speaker 1: first impressions. I left over the nearest kneeling bystander, then
Speaker 1: used the counter as a springboard. My landing brought down
Speaker 1: two other bystanders in the process, but I kept the
Speaker 1: guy in my sights. Another wet suited worker dodged me,
Speaker 1: and I followed the piss thrower into a narrow kebab
Speaker 1: shack thick with the aroma of grilled shrimp. I planted
Speaker 1: a knee to the square of the assailant's back and
Speaker 1: sent him sprawling, knocking three more customers into the flimsy
Speaker 1: prefab walls. At the joint. The piss thrower scrambled to
Speaker 1: his feet. He was recombined, but more to the point,
Speaker 1: he was clearly wasted. He eyed me drunkenly and reached
Speaker 1: into his wool lined jacket. I wouldn't, but he did.
Speaker 1: He drew a diver's knife. I don't think he'd thought
Speaker 1: any further than that. I can tell when someone's comfortable
Speaker 1: leveling a blade at another human being, and this guy
Speaker 1: didn't have it. He acted out of fear, casting about
Speaker 1: for his next move. I didn't give him the chance.
Speaker 1: I hit him with a basic jiu jitsun defense, a
Speaker 1: downward foe arm strike to his knife arm. Then I
Speaker 1: locked the limb, twisted it and spun him down. I
Speaker 1: cranked his wrists near the breaking point and pinned the
Speaker 1: side of his head to the gritted steel floor with
Speaker 1: my knee. Who were you aiming? Poor? He craned his
Speaker 1: neck to avoid looking at me, opened his mouth to speak,
Speaker 1: and that's when Jack's answered the question for me. The
Speaker 1: squid hit the piste thrower square in the belly, knocking
Speaker 1: the wind out of him and gluing him to the spot.
Speaker 1: I released the hold and grabbed the dive knife up
Speaker 1: off the floor. It's the tank for you, pal. You're
Speaker 1: lucky she got you before I did. I scanned the bystanders.
Speaker 1: Five of them crammed in behind us. Two of them
Speaker 1: flinched and looked away. Some sort of need another one down.
Speaker 1: Don't look at them before. You might want to cover
Speaker 1: that thing up. I checked my cap and realized it
Speaker 1: had slipped up during the scuffle. I pulled it back
Speaker 1: down into place. I don't want to antagonize the locals.
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Speaker 1: Do you suffer from bouts of depression, anxiety, panic acts
Speaker 1: and intrusive thoughts. If you're an active or former military
Speaker 1: service person in sound physical health, then you may be
Speaker 1: eligible to participate in a u EX funded study and
Speaker 1: treatment plan. Ask your doctor about a path. This take
Speaker 1: the first step toward building it better you and a
Speaker 1: safer world. What would Vale have made of that little encounter.
Speaker 1: It probably wasn't her idea of shared culture, but it
Speaker 1: certainly filled in some of the blanks for me. Maybe
Speaker 1: a recombined person was better off here than your average
Speaker 1: coastal region, but they still had to put up with
Speaker 1: the same sort of crap. Jack scanned and melted the squid,
Speaker 1: then left her partner to cuff the guy. The bystanders
Speaker 1: didn't quite disperse. I imagine it took more than a
Speaker 1: minor scuffle to clear out a public area in this place.
Speaker 1: But landsfolk and recombined alike averted their eyes from us.
Speaker 1: As we exited the kebab shack. They whispered no doubt
Speaker 1: about the woman with the elder signed tattoos. Jack's led on,
Speaker 1: not saying another word on the matter. We took a
Speaker 1: twisting side tunnel out of the bazaar and weaved our
Speaker 1: way through the bowels of Atlas once more squeezing past
Speaker 1: recombined divers suited for deep grid work landsfolk workers tending
Speaker 1: to internal matters. After all, we can't collapse our lungs
Speaker 1: and equalize pressure with the deep. Here we're the weirdos.
Speaker 1: We arrived at a sealed door labeled Atrium Hoffens and there,
Speaker 1: probably doing yoga or something. Oh and let me have
Speaker 1: Dave's knife. You know his name, Yeah, everyone knows Dave.
Speaker 1: She hit a switch and the circular door rolled off
Speaker 1: into the side of the wall, opening up on yet
Speaker 1: another of Atlas's surprises. I stepped inside onto a cobblestone
Speaker 1: path that snaked through a large circular garden. The domed
Speaker 1: ceiling overhead glowed with soft, pleasing light. The ferns and
Speaker 1: bushes glistened with beaded moisture. Moss grew thick on ornamental stones,
Speaker 1: and water trickled through a rocky stream. The occasional tree
Speaker 1: reached for artificial sky, but most of the vegetation stopped
Speaker 1: at waist height. It was clearly another large sphere, half
Speaker 1: filled with soil and transformed into a terrarium space. It
Speaker 1: was empty save the iron statue at its center. Jesus
Speaker 1: of Nazareth. A pane of water moved beneath the statue's
Speaker 1: feet and cascaded over the edges of the pedestal to
Speaker 1: create the effect. I heard a voice from the ground
Speaker 1: behind it. Yeah, I thought that was in twenty minutes.
Speaker 1: I'm in the middle of shavasana right now, ken Hoffman.
Speaker 1: He sat up and peeked over a hedge. I walked
Speaker 1: closer and saw the matt underneath him, a thermis in
Speaker 1: yoga block by his side. His face flashed a look
Speaker 1: of disappointment before shifting into the smiley, glad hand expression
Speaker 1: I expected. He rose to his feet, A tall man
Speaker 1: dressed in starched white pants and a matching kurta. He
Speaker 1: extended his hand. Ah Sin ken Hoffman, director of Operations
Speaker 1: here on Atlas. You caught me finishing up a little yoga.
Speaker 1: Great way to maintain a little right brain dominance. Plus,
Speaker 1: you gotta keep moving down here the place we'll get
Speaker 1: to you. Yeah, it's also cramp. Yeah, I know what
Speaker 1: it looks like. The boss seals himself up in a
Speaker 1: spacious garden while everyone else works. But no, this is
Speaker 1: a public space. Most of the time. Five occupant macs
Speaker 1: to maintain the chill. I just book it for a
Speaker 1: couple of hours most mornings. I can I get your
Speaker 1: water coffee. Someone just splashed piss on me, so I'm good.
Speaker 1: He stared off into space for a second, clearly listening
Speaker 1: to an inner ear feed from his communit. Then he
Speaker 1: met my eyes again. Oh I see, Well, you know
Speaker 1: people are gonna throw bottles of piss from time to time.
Speaker 1: You know that with your background, at least it was piss.
Speaker 1: Am I right? It seems Old Dave had an issue
Speaker 1: with your head of security, interim head of security, And yes,
Speaker 1: I'm well aware of the personnel issues involved, but really
Speaker 1: it's it's hardly indicative of the general vibe around here.
Speaker 1: The flare ups are always going to happen. You hope
Speaker 1: that they happen at least in manageably small doses. But
Speaker 1: let's have a seat and discuss what you're really here for.
Speaker 1: He led me to a pair of opposing benches by
Speaker 1: the Christ's statue and took one for himself. He pulled
Speaker 1: out a communit, activated a holographic display and scrolled through
Speaker 1: several files, as if he really had to check you
Speaker 1: were here about Peter Booklan, son of you dex Euro's
Speaker 1: Frederick Bookland. We filed a full report on that weeks ago.
Speaker 1: I don't think they were happy with that report. Well,
Speaker 1: obviously if they sent one of you down here, I
Speaker 1: didn't think they had any Epathis agents to spare. The
Speaker 1: Bookland name carries a lot of weight that it does. Plus,
Speaker 1: Peter is a bit of a firebrand. You've heard his
Speaker 1: talks deep seabiotics, hydrothermal energy could shake a lot of
Speaker 1: things up around here. Did you meet him? No, Look,
Speaker 1: it's all on the report. He arrived here in March
Speaker 1: on a v I P sub with the rest of
Speaker 1: the v I P s. We logged him, he disembarked,
Speaker 1: maybe he had a drinks all the sites, and then
Speaker 1: we have him boarding again an hour later. The manifest
Speaker 1: says he never reboarded v I P subsurd intentionally discreet.
Speaker 1: They don't have video footage, but we do. He swiped
Speaker 1: his fingers through the air and swiveled the holographic display
Speaker 1: around to show me alone. Jumpsuited guy with sandy blonde hair,
Speaker 1: scanned his communit and vanished through a docking porthole. Charismatic guy,
Speaker 1: right future, Look, we're not happy about it either I
Speaker 1: maintain a careful balance. The last thing I want is
Speaker 1: increased drama on Atlas. I'm already wrestling with a possible
Speaker 1: Mariners guild strike, tech problems and sporadic vent activity. I
Speaker 1: don't dispute the subs data, but if he's down here,
Speaker 1: we know you keep tabs on everyone, all personnel. The
Speaker 1: Tritons and Narret's too, well, that's a different matter. They
Speaker 1: have embassy status and I have ambassador credentials. When can
Speaker 1: I meet with them? I figured that's why they sent you.
Speaker 1: You really think that Triton stole the guy away, kidnapped
Speaker 1: him to hold one over you, Dex. The Triton's already
Speaker 1: have the upper hand if you hadn't noticed. They didn't
Speaker 1: want Bukelyn. They just wanted his genes, the same as
Speaker 1: the rest of the v I P passengers. It was
Speaker 1: all a part of the larger Triton genetics program. Their
Speaker 1: end of the deal with you, Dex. The deep opened
Speaker 1: up unreachable oil reserves, placated the environmentalists with vague hopes
Speaker 1: of deep thermal but in return, we agreed to the
Speaker 1: gene sharing program. We needed workers who could thrive in
Speaker 1: the deep, so we let the Triton's augment those workers,
Speaker 1: infusing them with the genetic changes they need, but they
Speaker 1: required something from our genes as well. They continually requested
Speaker 1: certain attributes, even particular individuals and bloodlines, often relatives of
Speaker 1: key you Dex brass, and they were not content with
Speaker 1: a tissue swab. There art required in person summons to
Speaker 1: the deep. Thus, the specially designed subs for their v
Speaker 1: I P passengers, each outfitted with every earthly luxury. Whatever
Speaker 1: it took to ensure these fortunate sons and daughters of
Speaker 1: the Second Oil Age fulfilled their end of the blood bargain.
Speaker 1: Or perhaps you think it was suicide, it wouldn't be
Speaker 1: without precedence. You're still left searching for a body. There
Speaker 1: are a lot of ways to lose a body. Subs
Speaker 1: aren't the only way in and out. Who speaks for
Speaker 1: the Triton's down here, Asia marsh one of the encapsulated
Speaker 1: old school interspecies communicator. She's perfectly sasonable, really, but I
Speaker 1: almost never meet with her directly. You know why, because
Speaker 1: she's always accompanied Mary. It's two of them. They venture
Speaker 1: out among the general populations sometimes, which keeps me up
Speaker 1: at night. Believe me, if you meet with Marsh and
Speaker 1: she will insist upon in person meeting for something like this,
Speaker 1: she's going to have them in tow. They will try
Speaker 1: to influence you. They're going to put all that precious
Speaker 1: a path is conditioning to the test. And if you
Speaker 1: start flashing a bunch of elder signed tattoos around you,
Speaker 1: don't think I can withstand. I don't know what you
Speaker 1: can do, but it takes a lot of work to
Speaker 1: keep things running around here. A lot of finesse, like
Speaker 1: taped CRS units. Is that finesse? Yeah, actually it is.
Speaker 1: You want to balanced cocktail, You've got to mix the
Speaker 1: bitter with the sweet, and that's what I like here.
Speaker 1: Balance caution, inhale exhale. Obviously, I'll arrange the meeting if
Speaker 1: you insist on it, but you've got to promise me
Speaker 1: you'll keep things level headed. I've already asked Marsh about
Speaker 1: Booklands whereabouts and she flat out told me they don't know. Again,
Speaker 1: it's all in the report. Who's lying you or her?
Speaker 1: I think we're done here. I transferred your lodging details
Speaker 1: to your calm via secure connection. Get some sleep, get
Speaker 1: cleaned up, talk to some locals, and if you still
Speaker 1: want your meeting with Asia Marsh. I can arrange it
Speaker 1: for tomorrow, but I'll sleep a lot easier if you
Speaker 1: give me that promise. No, seriously, I need to hear
Speaker 1: you say it. I promise good. He smiled, But I
Speaker 1: saw the worry in his eyes. It made sense. He
Speaker 1: didn't want to rock the boat or unbalanced his cocktail,
Speaker 1: whatever the metaphor. But it was too late. They'd sent
Speaker 1: me and I was going to get answers. The Christ's
Speaker 1: statue is a nice touch. Oh yeah, well he walked
Speaker 1: on water. Some of the recombined the Christians. Anyway, They
Speaker 1: say he walked under the water. Did you know that
Speaker 1: they depict the spear wound as a gill slit. I
Speaker 1: finally noticed the inscription on the base of the statue,
Speaker 1: the words blurred by tendrils of cascading water, A New Covenant.
Speaker 1: The second oil age was produced by Robert Lamb, Alex Williams,
Speaker 1: Lauren Vogelbaumb and Josh Stay. This episode featured on Joe
Speaker 1: Masters Is snov Pan, Robin Bloodworth is Kim Hoffman, Andy
Speaker 1: Reese as Jack's and Jonathan Strickland as Salty Squid. Supporting
Speaker 1: voice work by Jed Drummond, Nicholas Takoski, Gina Rikiki, Eden
Speaker 1: Brown and Bim Bolan intro, outro and supporting music created
Speaker 1: by the Weirding Module. Learn more at Module dot band
Speaker 1: camp dot com. From our podcasts, from my Heart Radio,
Speaker 1: visit the IRN radio app, Apple Podcasts, or whinever we
Speaker 1: listen to your favorite