hallelujahpilot | OoM: meeting Dr Grace Augustine

Entry tags:

OoM: meeting Dr Grace Augustine

Thanks to her long relationship with Dr Frieda Watson, Trudy is quite familiar with the geology lab and its residents; the BioLab, not so much. Given she’s early (Chacon, we're placing you on the science work, McKnight had told her last night, and then had pointedly not answered when she asked, this is because I made the quip about the margaritas, isn't it?), she’s taking the time to look around. One wall of the lab, near the front where she is standing, is made up almost entirely of observation windows. Beyond these windows are large terrariums holding some Pandoran flora and fauna. Trudy peers into the closest chamber, filled with fern-like plants. Much to her disappointment, she is unable to see if there is anything else in there – be nice to actually take a look at Pandoran biota without it trying to kill her.

The next chamber is an aquarium filled with murky water. The window is huge, but she can’t see anything in the gloom. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see the distinctive figure of Dr Grace Augustine, and straightens, turning to face her. With a shocking suddenness a dark shape, much bigger than Trudy, materializes out of the murk and slams against the glass.

Trudy whips around, taking a step back as she does so. Despite her lightening reflexes, her hand doesn’t go for the hand-gun in her thigh-holster – she’s inside, and you don’t shoot things up inside. She’s fast enough to see the huge jaws of some kind of armoured fish snapping shut, clacking razor-sharp teeth against the glass.

Trudy makes a bit of a face at the fish. “Now, that wasn’t very nice of you.”

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Then understand one thing. None of your superiors know jack shit about this moon. At the rate they're going, they're going to destroy anything of any value before we even have the chance to understand what it is. I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen; and I don't care if you land on a goddamn gold mine of unobtanium, if you get in the way of the work I do here, I will snap that pretty little nose right off your face and feed it to my Dinicthys."

Grace is dead serious.

"Capiche?"

Easily, "Define 'get in the way' for me, ma'am."

Grace has that "I'll use small words so you'll be sure to understand" look about her before she answers.

"Fuck my shit up."

Funnily enough, Trudy's own expression is clearly 'your mission parameters are lacking'.

"Understood, ma'am, I will take this under consideration."

"Have you ever interacted with the Na'vi, Chacon? Or seen an Avatar?"

At last! A sensible question. Trudy manages to contain her happiness at this new event.

"No and yes."

Her lips curl, and there's something not entirely nice lurking behind that smile.

She takes a long drag off her cigarette, exhaling pointedly.

"Do you have any idea the kind of work we do here?"

"My father is an anthropologist, ma'am. I can hazard as guess as to the broad strokes. For the details, I was hoping you'd be able to enlighten me."

Edited 2010-03-25 05:58 (UTC)

There are two things she honestly hadn't been expecting to hear. One, that there's an actual thinking scientist in Trudy's family -- which earns one arched eyebrow -- and two, that she's actually requested enlightening.

Cue the second eyebrow.

"You were, were you?" she says with a crooked grin.

Trudy gets another once-over. Grace flicks ash off the end of her smoke, and brings it back to her lips.

"Well then," she exhales. "Guess we better get started."

"That's why I'm here."

Well, one of the reasons - the Avatar program is not the only group who need flying out (although as a group, it is multi-disciplinary), which means that Trudy really should go to the other departments at some stage. But it seemed like a nice, fairly neutral thing to say.

(not to mention that she is genuinely curious)

Edited 2010-03-28 01:51 (UTC)

"Well, come on then," she says, turning on her heel and heading for the door. "I don't have all day, and I'm certainly not going to lead your ass around by the hand."

There's a proud, defiant streak in this one.

Grace likes that.

(It makes things a hell of a lot more fun.)

Diplomatically, Trudy remains silent as she follows at Grace's heels - her protest of yeah, I got work, too muffled with the ease of practiced restraint.

"How many Avatars are there?"

"Sixteen," Grace calls, without turning around.

She pushes through the door to the bio-lab, as if she owns the place -- because, well, she does.

"Each Avatar is linked to its own genetically compatible driver, by use of a whole body remote neural interface, when in use. When not, Avatar bodies remain in a static sleep state."

They pass several ceiling-height acrylic tanks, along with the typical instrumentation and ceiling-to-floor computer terminals of most laboratories.

"The process of fusing human DNA with Na'Vi NVTranscriptase is a very dangerous, expensive, and difficult process. So every one of these bodies is absolutely indispensable, you got it?"

"Excluding the cost of shipping and actually maintaining and running...Twenty billion dollars per Avatar, if I remember correctly."

Which frankly, Trudy finds obscene, but no one asked her.

"But I'll take as good a care of the Avatars as I do my human cargo."

...okay, that might have been mildly calculated to annoy the good doctor, but Trudy's easy-going, not a saint.

Edited 2010-03-29 07:08 (UTC)

"How old are you? Fifteen?"

This time, Grace does glance over her shoulder, narrowing her wizened eyes at Trudy.

"You been flying a long time, marine?"

"Twenty-nine and six months, ma'am." Sometimes, it's better to answer. Sometimes, it's not. And sometimes you just answer because you can't be bothered wondering if the damn question is rhetorical or not.

"And I've been flying since I was fourteen."

"You still counting age in half years?"

Grace turns back around again, muttering something around her cigarette that sounds distinctly like "half-grown pup" interspersed with a fair amount of obscenities.

There are a number of rooms that adjoin to the bio-lab, whether by door or observation window. As they walk, a few Avatars can be seen, both activated and recumbent.

"These Avatars are the most precious cargo you are ever going to transport, and not just because of the multi-million dollar price tag. They're our only shot at diplomatic negotiations with the Na'Vi, and the keystone of my work here."

"And how would you describe your work?" Trudy asks, so diplomatic her teeth hurt.

She stops moving.

Trudy earns herself another suspicious look.

"Are you asking about the science, or the morality?"

There is a long silence, pregnant of all the things Trudy is biting her tongue on. Eventually, she says,

"I am asking how you would describe your work. How you answer it is up to you."

She exhales, walking to the nearest desk to stub out her cigarette in an empty plate.

"Crucial."

She crosses her arms over her chest.

"I figure you've heard the stories. Grace Augustine: living legend, wrote the book on Pandora xenobotany. Hell, she even prefers plants to people.

"So I'm not stupid. Selfridge and Quaritch have their plans for the program, I know that much. But that cargo of yours you plan on treating just as well as your 'human passengers'?"

Her voice changes on the last two words, a dare burning dark in her eyes.

"They're not just some science project grown in a petri dish. They're my only means of connecting to the Na'Vi. The cultural exchange, the education my school is responsible for, is incalculable. Their connection to this planet is beyond anything we're remotely familiar with. We're curing the common cold back on Earth because the biosphere here has managed to create antiviruses for every single virus in the human body."

There's a distinct thrill in every iota of Grace's being as she speaks.

"My work here is to show Earth that we're not the only 'people' out here."

The pilot just watches, listens, keeps her mouth shut.

Then she shrugs, smiles a bit.

"People's people, Doc. It doesn't matter to me what colour or species. So, if you want to prove that the Na'vi'-" normally, the humans call them Pandorans, or the locals, or other, nastier things, but to Trudy, they are what they call themselves, "-are people...Well, the bosses ain't told me what their hypothetical plans are."

Take that as you will, Doctor Grace Augustine.

"Is that right?"

Grace is smiling, and if we're not mistaken, it might actually pass for genuine.

"So, you're just out here to fly, marine?"

With perfect honesty, "Yes, ma'am."

Grace points at her, and her smile turns more crooked.

"That's the first thing we're going to change. Come with me. It's time you meet the real Pandora."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

OoM: meeting Dr Grace Augustine

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject