Kent Clark (
videointhenoise) wrote in
openmisc2024-12-13 07:37 pm
Kent/Feldspar
"Just once more," they had said when Ellie's team petitioned for it. She was busy with Palmer, falling in love with science while he fell in love with God, and Kent was left to pick up the pieces. He wanted another damn go at it. The Machine had a pricetag in the billions; it was begging to be used again.
But they wouldn't let Ellie go. They wouldn't let just anyone go. They wanted someone who knew how it worked, who had been there from the beginning, but someone who isn't completely taken in by Ellie's words.
That leads them to a dozen people and they end up with Kent. He's blind, but that's not what decides it. They claim that he wouldn't hallucinate the way Ellie did. That he has a unique perspective.
And, he's already proven himself steady and loyal.
He experiences it all the way that Ellie does, but something goes wrong on the other end. Maybe another terrorist attack. Maybe not. All he knows is that he's in the sphere and then, suddenly, he's floating, unable to find his footing until a great crash and he slams into the bottom of the machine.
He groans, pulling his helmet on with a grunt and a wince.
"Fuck this," he mutters, finding the edge of the sphere with his hands. There was a door there somewhere. He just - has to find it.
But they wouldn't let Ellie go. They wouldn't let just anyone go. They wanted someone who knew how it worked, who had been there from the beginning, but someone who isn't completely taken in by Ellie's words.
That leads them to a dozen people and they end up with Kent. He's blind, but that's not what decides it. They claim that he wouldn't hallucinate the way Ellie did. That he has a unique perspective.
And, he's already proven himself steady and loyal.
He experiences it all the way that Ellie does, but something goes wrong on the other end. Maybe another terrorist attack. Maybe not. All he knows is that he's in the sphere and then, suddenly, he's floating, unable to find his footing until a great crash and he slams into the bottom of the machine.
He groans, pulling his helmet on with a grunt and a wince.
"Fuck this," he mutters, finding the edge of the sphere with his hands. There was a door there somewhere. He just - has to find it.
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They bring him to the table so they can peer down over it. The technology from these dead aliens is sleek and impressive - definitely different from the stuff from the Nomai. “Huh. Definitely the ship’s navigation, but it’s on some kind of autopilot.”
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They do lean in to peer a little closer to the screen, though they don’t put their hands anywhere near it.
It’d be nice to try and take this thing out for a spin though.
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Smaller ships. Maybe they shouldn’t be so excited by the prospect, they’ve only just been reunited with their loved ones after all, but they can’t help themselves. This is how they’re programmed.
They smile softly and lean against Kent’s tall frame. “We should get back.”
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He loves them for it.
"We should. Lead the way." He slides an arm around them.
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“Hey dad, Felds. Everything okay?”
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"We went exploring," Kent says, reaching out to take their hand and draw them into an embrace.
"This place is huge."
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"The physics of it is really amazing," Kent agrees. "And we have plenty of time to fill it out."
He wraps them up. "How is everyone out there?'
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“Yeah, yeah. You’ll have to tell me all about the outside world when you come back, baby.”
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"I'll wake you up when I come back," he promises.
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“Have fun,” they smile, still warm from the kiss. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
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And Lapis returns Kent to Feldspar smelling of smoke.
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The bed dips and they smell smoke and feel warmth in the space beside them. Kent’s returned.
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He kisses their forehead and closes his eyes, falling asleep properly for the first time in a long time.
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When they wake they feel more energized than they had in days. They get up and look for some tins for breakfast, eager for some protein that wasn’t of the many-legged variety.
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He had hoped that they would, but he's never sure. Not when they've had so many awful things happen to them.
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“Slept pretty good,” they say, bringing a tin over to the bed and sitting back down with it in hand. “Smoked fish?”
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