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pinkgothic:
When she next saw Mateo Kasun, he was moving between rows of snake plants. He looked at least a little rested, radiating a regular tiredness, rather than the kind that came with delerium and mental dishevelment.
They were all accustomed to the thin light of the sun here, but any people coming in more recently usually remarked that a Martian day felt like twelve odd hours of twilight. Some of the plants needed artificial light to help them thrive, the energy for the powerful lamps gathered from solar farms just outside the base, but the snake plants were happy with the illumination, and good producers of oxygen, to boot.
Mateo sat down between the plants, gently wiping accumulated particles off the imperceptibly breathing leaves.
Nymphetamine:
Leila was already hard at work, pruning one of the plants for optimal growth. The flower buds had to go, as they wanted the plants to concentrate their energy on leaf production. The more greenery, the more photosynthesis, which would in turn help more oxygen be released. It was a hard job, as all these plants seemed to want to do was reproduce, even though their only polinators were really the people themselves. The snake plants were her favourite, though, as they seemed to be the least problematic. Humming to herself, she had hardly noticed that she had almost intercepted Mr. Kasun, nearly running him over. Removing her headphones she began to stammer out apologies and then she realized who it was. “Oh. It's you.” As if the favour of taking in his cat had somehow allowed her some leeway when nearly stepping on him. “Sorry about that, wasn't paying as much attention as I should.” Some sort of dance music could be heard loudly playing from her headphones, which she hastily turned off with a mute buttom. “Did you get some sleep at least?”
pinkgothic:
Practically all physical work that needed doing on Mars could also be done by robots, but given what a heavensent it was to leave their handful square metres of living space and physically move, the Martian community hadn't bothered to instruct their little helpers that way. In no small part, paranoia was part of the reason - leaving everything tended to by automation might mean missing a slow degradation somewhere that was a catastrophe waiting to happen.
Mateo smiled up at her - a tired, but nonetheless sincere smile - and nodded. “Yes, thanks so much for taking Haffy, I slept like a log. Still feel a bit run over, but–” He gestured to the snake plants. “–able to make myself useful outside of textbooks and theories. I hope she's not been too much of a handful.” He dropped his gaze to the music player, smiling lightly, a non-verbal acknowledgement of the music. “Did you get the phosphorus drain in section five under control?”
Phosphorus was how they'd first met - Mateo was responsible for replenishing it if they ran out and it was a crucial element to keeping the soil fertile - and it kept cropping up. About a week ago, they'd tried to puzzle out together why the soil in section five seemed to be losing phosphorous at a faster rate than the other sections, theorising a bacterial imbalance in the soil. They'd settled on scavenging some soil from a different section and mixing it in to see if it might help stabilise the corner they were trying the intervention on, but Mateo wasn't equipped to check the status.
Nymphetamine:
“She's remarkably well behaved for a cat,” Leila said in reply, sounding mildly surprised by that, as if she had anticipated the cat's care being more ornerous or stressful than it actually had been. “She keeps to herself. I'd like to pet her, but she's basically a queen…” And queens didn't allow strange servants to pet them. Smiling at that lopsidedly, she was dreading the question about the phosphor drain in the soil in section five. “Not yet, it's still giving us some trouble. We've been checking our containment and the injection system… but still no luck locating what it might be, unfortunately. Everything keeps coming up green, no pun intended.”
pinkgothic:
Mateo chuckled. “Haffy'll probably get affectionate right around the time that the spell wears off,” he offered. He didn't know when the spell wore off, obviously, but he had seemed optimistic it wouldn't take the week. No doubt the rule was true regardless how long it took, in the same way that back on Earth, it always rained whenever one forgot one's umbrella, independent of the weather report.
“About the phosphorus, do you need any more yet?” he asked, squinting up a little. “Any difference between the mixed patch and the others? Maybe we can just chuck out the whole line of soil and replace it fully?”
Nymphetamine:
“That's cats for you,” she said with a soft laugh. Cats would always pretend they wanted nothing to do with you when you were trying to get their affection, and then once you gave up on trying, they came around. As the conversation turned back to their work-related discussion, she frowned. “It might just be better to start over… At least we can check the units themselves when they're empty and see if there is contaminents or something of the sort…” Leila didn't sound entirely convinced about that, but she was willing to give it a shot if it meant solving their problem.
pinkgothic:
Mateo pressed his lips into a thin line, glancing aside for a moment, working on the problem in his head. He wasn't a botanist and rather less likely to spontaneously happen upon a resolution to the mystery than Leila, but it was hard to stay away from a mystery. “The lab have anything to say about the soil samples?” he asked, but it was in a tone that acknowledged she would've told him about it if there had been a finding.
Nymphetamine:
Glancing towards him with a bland expression, she then shook her head. “Nothing conclusive. They're running new samples to determine whether or not the first results are repeated.” Not the norm, but then why else was section five causing them such problems? Leila sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Is it possible there's a breach in the containment? But I guess that also results in emptying it of soil and looking at it. Think we could get authorization to empty it? Maybe start with fresh soil.” Terran or Martian soil, not sure which they were dealing with off hand.
pinkgothic:
“I honestly know less about the regulatory hoops of botany than you do,” Mateo reminded her. “So if you don't know if the soil can be tossed and replaced, I guess we'll have to ask.” He grinned up at her, tiredness crinkling his amusement. “I can tell you much more about the legal tripwires of sorcery - especially all of the ones we're violating while Sandrine isn't looking.”
Nymphetamine:
The Martian soil in section five not behaving like the Martian soil in sections six through eight. Whether that was because section five was the first to use Martian soil, or their methodology had changed, she didn't know. Ferreting out the answer was something of an obsession now. Though her ears perked up when he mentioned sorcery. “That sounds very interesting… maybe more interesting than the phosphor troubles in section five.” Said in earnesty, as she defintiely had a curiosity about what the sorcerers were always up to… and how much of it was on the up and up with the law.
pinkgothic:
The interest seemed to embarrass him somewhat, as though he'd caught himself derailing something sacred. “The sorcery or the tripwires?” Mateo joked weakly and rhetorically. “They're not really that interesting. For example, we're supposed to phone home and ask about new spells we try, as though anyone back on Earth can honestly assess the risk.
“Sandrine ignores it unless it causes issues, for generous definitions of 'issues' that don't even include my little accident.” He shrugged lightly. “Arthur Biker would probably get an aneurysm, though.”
Arthur Biker was their regulatory liaison. No one back on Earth was an expert in the legal trappings of sorcery, but Arthur was slowly transforming into one, and took great joy in drawing boundaries. Sandrine - everyone's boss, the site lead - did not formally have the right to overrule regulation, but most people on the base treated the situation as though she could.
Nymphetamine:
“Little bit of column A, little bit of column B?” She sounded sheepish, as if she perhaps picked up on his embarrassment and was genuinely apologetic that she had put him in that position. Still, he explained it succinctly, and she nodded along as if she understood what he was talking about. The names she recognized, of course, and the hierarchy of it all. “I see. Sounds like a lot of red tape… even if it might be the teensiest bit necessary?” Leila didn't seem convinced of that herself.
pinkgothic:
“My honest opinion?” Mateo said, making it sound like a question, but didn't stop to wait for an answer. “I think Earth's scared that if they're lenient on us we'll notice we don't need them.” His own statement visibly surprised him - his face turned into an awkward apology a moment later.
Nymphetamine:
It wasn't quite a laugh, just a little huff of acknowledgement, somewhat amused by the notion, but not at all disagreeing with him. A little mischievous grin stretched her lips as she glanced sidelong at Mateo. “You know… You're probably right about that.” No need to elaborate from either of them. She would've been happy to pretend he hadn't made the comment at all, if that was his desire.
pinkgothic:
It looked as though the statement reminded Mateo just how tired he was. A weak little smile papered over the scene. Downcast eyes suggested at least a small measure of guilt. For a moment, it looked as though the crinkled expression was going to give way to an uncomfortable silence, but then Mateo said: “Chat to you after your shift?” It wasn't quite 'chat to you about this after your shift', but it had the potential.
Nymphetamine:
Leila watched the emotions permeate a little on his face. The forced smile that seemed faded, the lowered gaze. She felt her own spoonful of guilt at having caused him some distress, as that hadn't been her intention at all. When he broke the silence before it had become awkward, with this offering to chat, she smiled and nodded. “Sure thing. I should get back to work, maybe just restart section 5 altogether, after clearing it with the boss.” She spoke of whomever was heading up the botany projects altogether, since she would need clearance to adress her problem in such a definitive way.
pinkgothic:
With a light nod and friendly gesture, Mateo concurred, going back to wiping particles off the broad leaves, leaving Leila to clear the section five situation with her boss.
It proved to be an easy clearance; Leila's boss trusted her to do the right thing, giving a blanket permission. It was less easy to actually decide whether to do it. The other botanists were unsure, and it would probably take a few days for them to collectively decide whether to repot everything in the section, even as they prepared for the logistics of the possibility.
When the shift ended, Mateo wasn't where she'd left him. It was unsurprising and inconvenient - they should probably have thought about deciding where to meet up, but there were a few standard Schelling points. The mess hall was the first and she found him there despite the bustle.
After grabbing their food trays, they wandered back into greenhouse, parked themselves in section nine, a more expansive area that felt almost like a park were it not as crowded as it was, and ate mashed potatoes, vegetables and a creamy sauce in remarkable solitude. Usually there were about one to three pairs of people here; today it was just them.
“Did you manage to get clearance from your boss?” Mateo asked, recalling the earlier conversation, carefully avoiding to blunder right into politics with someone who might not want that conversation.
Nymphetamine:
Thankfully, there wasn't a lot of rigamarole to getting the clearance she needed to redo the soil in section five. Her boss signed off on it as soon as she asked for it, and that was the end of that. Her colleagues were not too sure about the necessity of it, so they debated and talked amongst themselves until their shift was over. At that point, she was ready to wash her hands of section five altogether, and set about looking for Mateo. When he was no where to be found in the greenhouse, she ended up in the mess hall to acquire some food for the evening? and eventually located the object of her search. Joining him back in the greenhouse, she dug in with gusto into her food, though politely swallowed before she was to reply to Mateo at all. Looking at him, she offered him a small smile and nodded. “Yeah, there wasn't even that much of a fuss about it. Just the normal, 'If you think it's necessary, Leila' and that was it.” To which she was grateful, all things considered, because she hadn't wanted to get into a lengthy discussion about it. The unexplored topics with Mateo were the ones she was interested in, specifically sorcery, but the young man seemed somewhat reluctant to discuss it, and she wasn't sure how to bring it up without discomfitting him.
pinkgothic:
“So, how does that work? You just get a verbal confirmation?” he asked, mildly surprised. “Or some signed authorisation?” Maybe it wasn't too surprising that he'd be curious, given what he'd alluded to with sorcery. It sounded like they couldn't do much without getting a literal sign-off first.
Nymphetamine:
“Verbal confirmation, this time, anyway. I suppose that if there were anything more, such as redistributing the plants to other sections, or what have you, we might have needed something written. Boss was okay with just starting over, so we could see if there were any breaches in the containment.” Leila shrugged at this, not sure what his interests in such things were, but curious nonetheless. “It's not so bad. We at least have the autonomy to do what's needed most of the time.”
pinkgothic:
Mateo's eyebrows crept up and stayed there for many seconds, but he didn't verbally comment until after they had dropped back down and he'd had a few more bites of his food. “I suppose there's less concern about consequences,” he mused. “If I want to do spellcasting right, Sandrine needs to sign a little permit slip.
“Sometimes they're blanket permits, like certain alchemical spells that we need to use every other month, but most things aren't. Sandrine's allowed us to play with low-tier spells on our own time as long as nothing happens, but everything else goes through checks and balances.” The difference sounded like an interesting intellectual exercise for him, not like a grievance.
Nymphetamine:
”'As long as nothing happens'?” She repeated the phrase given the way that he had put it. It sounded like a good deal of autonomy, to a certain extent, though where that delineation was, Leila wasn't sure. Still, it was interesting, and she was glad that he had brought up the subject of sorcery first. “What constitutes as a low-tier spell?” she wondered aloud. She had no basis or frame of reference for spells and sorcery itself, so she was very curious about what he meant.
pinkgothic:
“Any spell that uses only three runes or less,” Mateo commented. “It's roughly correlated to how hard it hits, the number of runes, I mean. There are some exceptions, but as a rule, the more runes, the more you have the potential for massive consequences. I don't know the runes for it, but there's a high-tier spell you can use to make all calcium in a two-mile radius just disappear.” A pause. “Not that anyone's likely to use that one, it'll kill the caster just the same as anyone else in the two-mile radius. That's a historic one, so in theory the rune combo's sitting in a museum somewhere.”
Nymphetamine:
Leila blinked in surprise, deliberate for a moment. “That's uh… that sure is a helluva spell. Why would someone want to use that?” she could only wonder some more about sorcery and how it worked. It certainly seemed strange to her. “That seems rather unpractical if it kills the caster as well…” Trailing off for a moment, she considered what that would be like. Would bones just snap and break? Two miles was a massive amount of distance when it was talking about removing a key element to life. “Is there no way to protect the caster in that case?”
pinkgothic:
“Ah,” Mateo said, seeming rather more awake now that the subject was sorcery than he had been earlier. “So, one thing you need to understand is that the caster is not in any way privileged with sorcery. They provide the raw materials, but from the mechanics of what happens - to the degree we understand it at all - you're just part of physical reality like everything else.
“To be exempt, you'd have to remove yourself from physical reality somehow. I'm not willing to rule it out - sorcery lets you do various other things that ought to be impossible, after all - but it seems like a high bar to clear. My guess is back in ur-sorcery times some poor schmuck tried the combo, it worked, and his legacy is now a cautionary tale to us all.” He sounded amused.
Nymphetamine:
She pondered on that in silence, really chewing on the subject as she ate. That seemed so terrible, to be a part of the results of a terrible spell like that. “A cautionary tale for everyone, it would seem.” Leila was a polite companion, eating with her mouth closed, not trying to ask any questions while she was still munching down. As she swallowed, she considered what else he said. “Imagine the destruction of someone who *could* remove themselves from reality to cast a terrible spell like that… they'd be nigh unstoppable.”
pinkgothic:
Mateo shrugged mildly, although he was smiling. “The sorcery itself is still potentially deadly. The more runes you need to cast, the more likely you are to bleed to death casting it. Being able to study high-tier spells would be great, and I'd love access to that knowledge, but I wouldn't want to cast them myself, unless my life depended on it.”