I fingered my shirt. “And, uhhhh, do we keep the shirts and hats?”
Tom smiled. “You can if you want. But they usually go back into the storeroom. The musical instruments are community property, too. We usually sign them out. We’re big on the community sharing here. Which reminds me, you said you brought books and movies on hard drives. You should let our IT people know, they’ll add them to the community Plex server.”
“Okay.”
“You have licenses for all that stuff, right?”
“Er.”
“That’s a joke. The treaty we work under creates a special carve-out for us in terms of copyright.”
“Really.”
“Yeah, apparently, they thought if we were being sent to an alternate Earth ruled by one-hundred-fifty-meter-tall creatures who could step on us at any moment, we should be able to borrow each other’s ebooks and watch Stranger Things.”
“Seems fair.”
“Helps keep us sane, anyway. More than just ukuleles.” Someone called Tom’s name; he looked around, saw the person, and waved.
“You don’t have to babysit me,” I said to him. “If you have people to say goodbye to, go do that.”
“All right, thanks,” he said. “Also, in a little bit, Brynn MacDonald is probably going to collect you and your friends to help get you situated. Then tomorrow she’s going to start you on your actual orientation. You know, starting on your actual job.”
“I lift things,” I confirmed.
“You will indeed lift things,” Tom agreed. “But there’s going to be more to it than that.”
“Dun dun dunnnnnnn,” I said, mimicking dramatic music.
Tom laughed and left, and I turned and watched two groups of friends, one arriving and one departing, try to catch up on three months’ worth of life in a couple of all-too-short hours.
* * *
“Let me start by informing you that I’m a little drunk right now, so I’m going to keep this very short,” Brynn MacDonald said. She was holding a glass of something, presumably alcoholic.
We newbies, whom she had gathered on Tanaka Base’s main thoroughfare, waited politely. Some of us may also have been a little drunk; the Red Team goodbye party had been a little more intense than we expected.
“First, welcome, I’m Brynn, but you knew that. I know who each of you are because I have your files, but I’m also, you recall, a little drunk right now, so I’m not going to pretend to remember which of you is which. I will have it down tomorrow, I promise. And speaking of tomorrow”—she pointed to a modest wooden structure, a bit down the path—“I’ll see all of you in the administration building at nine a.m., after breakfast, to start your orientation. I’ll try to make it quick so you can get to your work as quickly as possible. I know you’re all scientists”—she stopped and looked at me—“except you, you’re our new grunt.”
I grunted.
“Anyway you all have jobs, and you’re all smart, so we’ll rush you through it. As for tonight…” She pointed down the other way. “You’ve all been assigned the same barracks suite, which is that way, don’t worry, your last names are on the door, keys inside, along with a fresh set of jumpsuits, you’ll be fine, you’re smart, you’ll figure it out, but if you can’t just ask literally anyone, they’ll help you, because we’re not assholes here. Well, some of us are, but even they will help you. If they don’t we’ll feed them to the tiny bloodsucking insects. You saw those earlier today. Hey, did you see the frogs?”
We nodded. We had seen the frogs, which lived in little decorative ponds peppered around the base. Aside from being the closest things to pets that there were at Tanaka Base, they also served the purpose of eating any flying insects that managed to get inside the netting. The insects would sense the water, go in for a drink, and then frogs would get them. Natural insecticide. Also cute. Aparna, our biologist, wondered if they were from here or if they were imported from our Earth, but it was a party, so that question remained unanswered for now, and Aparna may also have now been slightly drunker than the rest of us and not in a state of mind to receive an answer.
“We love the frogs,” MacDonald said. “I know you know where the community center’s at, because it is literally right there”—she pointed to the building right by the walkway to the airfield—“and you should come back tonight after you get yourself situated because it’s a Gold Team tradition to watch movies together the first night. Tonight we’re watching—wait for it—Godzilla, and then Pacific Rim. Because, you know”—we waved, to signal the world. “And that’s the original, uncut Japanese version of Godzilla, not the bullshit American recut with Aaron Burr.”