.
Severed
There were two things Norm missed. Trudy and purpose.
Trudy, he could deal with, he told himself. Wouldn't have worked out, blah blah blah, death was probably quick and painless, yadda yadda yadda, died for what she believed in, insert platitude here…self-rationalization was something that he was good at. As far as he was aware-Hell's Gate only had a few shrinks and none of them had stayed for the long haul. Maybe they could see the problems presented by only having a few humans present, and even fewer having Avatars.
No…Trudy was fine, the anthropologist told himself. Purpose was something else. Purpose was what he needed. Some reason to record video logs day in and day out. Some purpose to the reports he'd written on what he'd learnt of na'vi culture, all from Jake and the other lucky buggers who could actually make the trip between Hell's Gate and the Omaticaya's new home tree. He needed some reason to make sure that the real-time communications system was still operational, even if it had been agreed early on that it would never be use-too much drain on power, and since they were essentially guests on Pandora, it probably wouldn't do well with the na'vi if they learnt that tawtute were contacting more tawtute with…insert rationalization here of how they communicated across stars.
It was strange, really, Norm reflected as he mulled over some powdered eggs-some of the last foodstuffs the people of Hell's Gate had bar what they could grow naturally, or hunt with either their dwindling supply of ammunition or bows and arrows that were ill suited for animals that were larger than whatever prey was left on Earth. He'd come out here to extend a branch of friendship to the na'vi-that was his job, what he was trained to do. Even Jake doing his job for him didn't matter in the end, because it was a job that was done until Quaritch messed things up. Yet after all he, and everyone else had done, he felt like an outsider to both worlds. Contacting Earth was forbidden for a number of reasons, and most na'vi were content to leave the base alone. Little reason to trade, little reason to talk…sure, Jake called in via radio every now and then, but there were only so many radios, and so many batteries to go around, that Norm suspected electronic communication was being reserved for emergencies. And if there was an emergency, what could Sky People do to help them?
Rubbing his eyes by virtue of too much sleep rather than the lack of it, Norm went to get some coffee…then decided against it. Too little left, no way of replenishing it, and best to use it when he needed the energy. Funny how so few people could go through so many supplies so quickly, but that was human nature he supposed. The rate of consumption always ended up outstripping the rate of re-supply, and after that…well, Malthus would be laughing his arse off in some nebulous part of the cosmos. And in his case, feeling bored to death. Getting some boiled water instead, Norm headed for the lab.
It would be a short report. He'd sever the uplink quickly…save some power.
Whether he could save his sanity was a question he wasn't sure he could answer.
