12

What's that... Noise?

Well *I'm* not.

We all know someone who's not living to see 2015.

You should not engage with the capitalist propaganda that is Christ-Mass.

You will have to wait until Christmas and see.

I made the eggnog, exactly to Guy's recipe, except that I added some surprise ingredients.

It's England. All of it's an island of whites.

(Ignoring him; to Del: ) Let's get you some pancakes with syrup, pisi. I'll treat you right.

I know when to open my mouth and when to keep it shut. Unlike you two.

Stop talking about MY date like that.

Oh, for me? Thanks Daisy.

Not bad, Guy.

'I can see your eyelids twitching. Get up.'

Okay, what bullshit did I miss this time.

'Hey, kid. You're blocking the microwave. Move.'

Ajla leans on the bar, leaving the free stool next to her for Daisy. She's looking for the humanoid-looking ones, the other expedition freaks who ask no questions and let anyone ride with them. If there's a way out, they'll know it.

'See anyone familiar?'

Thick plumes of sallybeet canes (alien cigars, Daisy worked out; they taste fruity, kind of sweet - she took one hit of one and gagged all night) clog the rafters, giving an added sheen of privacy and vice to the air. The place upstairs fronts as a bathhouse, so all the smoke comes as no surprise.

be hard for *you* but if you follow *my* lead, you'll be fine. Okay?'

'This isn't you,' Ajla said. 'Why are you panicking? That won't do anything. It just wastes energy. And anyway, you got lucky,' With a little smirk. 'You landed here with *me*.

'Don't call it space pool. That'll show you're an outsider. Keep your head down and don't make a noise. I know that'll

as soon as we can and don't look back. The bar' - Ajla called it that because she also didn't know its 'true' name, and locals rarely shout out the names of buildings they're inside of, least of all when drunk, the whole universe over - 'will have something. People who know how to get out of here.'

teleportation. The way I see it, we have two choices: The miracle won't come to us, so we'll have to find it. Or, we accept this, and we make it work. Either way, this shitty planet isn't the way forward. It's cold, drinking's illegal and it's *messing up my hair*. We should get off this planet

might not have been invented yet, no?' Ajla's tone is clear yet direct. She speaks the facts as she knows them, and little else. Her attempt to be friendly, to comfort Daisy.

'I remember the lights flickering, do you? When Joel . . . Zapped us. So *maybe* it needs a lot of power, too, like

she offers, taking the next chip right out of her hand and eating it with only the slightest grimace.

'Let's be practical. To get home, we'd need someone or some*thing* that has that similar weird *power* to Joel, right? *Or* some kind of . . . Time and space machine. As far as we know, those

Ajla scoffs, opening her mouth to say something unkind to Daisy, but halts herself. If Daisy's optimism is failing, it must be bad. Ajla, in fact, is less troubled; there's still just as much injustice and idiots for her to shake her head at here as there ever was back home. 'It's not a bad idea,'

( She sticks her hand in the bag and wipes the dust on her fingers off on Joel's jacket. )

Americans are so lazy.

That's what a . . . a . . . what's the word, aragaz, a . . . cooker, that's what that's for!

What is... Pot Noodle?

What is this? This isn't your best work, Orson.