The two worked in relative silence, the sound of heavy machinery drifting up from the worksite below. The lack of conversation was partially because of the stress of work, but another reason was that, at the end of the day, the two didn't have that much in common. On top of that, while the younger Sern was busy operating the bender, Alton would find his gaze wandering over to the other pair's progress.
When he realized there were only two teams assigned to assembling the rest of the floor's cages, Alton could feel his competitive nature stirring. A part of him, the part that had gotten his ankle broken in the Banzai Pipeline when he was young and stupid, was keeping track of how many colums each team was finishing. This time, however, he felt a little more comfortable monitoring the impromptu competition, as it meant a little more than pride.
Tirto was a good man, and a hard worker, but his age was clearly getting to him. In contrast, Sern was in perfect condition for this kind of work, with Alton only lagging slightly behind. The other team making more progress than them, something Austin seemed to be expecting if he wanted the floor completed today, would require superhuman effort on Elizabeth's part.
For a moment, Alton allowed himself to watch the… entity that was working with Tirto. She had taken over on the bender, her motions making her slightly inefficient style look effortless. For most people, that could be excused by them being fresh from just starting, but Alton knew Elizabeth's stamina was practically bottomless. If she got more columns done then Sern and he did, then he'd have proof that she wasn't human. It probably wouldn't be enough to convince others, but it meant… something.
Damnit, he didn't know what to do with that knowledge! The chance she was just a shipgirl trying to help out during mandatory leave was… overwhelming, but whenever he looked at the new girl, the story of a battle off the coast would invade into his mind. There had to be a way to tell the difference without her noticing, right? He needed to do more research on abyssals and shipgirls before he formed a concrete plan.
"Here you go." Sern reported, offering the end of a finished rebar length to him. Welcoming the distraction, Alton accepted the length, slotting it into place and tying it off. After ensuring it was level and signaling Sern to secure his own end, the younger man returned to the bender, threading the next length of rebar in, before stopping for a moment.
"So…" Sern began, his voice measured. "Alton?"
"Yeah?" Alton acknowledged.
"You, uh, worked with Elizabeth yesterday, right?" He asked, producing a tape measure and checking the length he'd fed into the bender.
"I did…" Alton allowed, not sure he liked where this was going. He'd welcome a bit of light conversation, but it would be to distract his thoughts away from Elizabeth, not focus them!
"What's, uh…" Sern stood, meeting Alton's eyes as he handed him another length of rebar. "What's she like?"
Alton paused, returning the young man's stare as his mind raced.
Well, that wasn't going anywhere good. Sern was going to have serious problems if his first date was an Abyssal or Shipgirl. Ignoring jokes about broken hips, an undercover shipgirl wouldn't be able to commit to any advances Sern made, and even if she did, she wouldn't be here for too long before… redeploying to Taiwan, Australia, Italy, or something, which wouldn't help them at all. That was assuming, of course, that Elizabeth wasn't an abyssal, a possibility that had borrowed into the back of his mind like an alien tick.
Somehow, Alton needed to discourage Sern. What could he do, though? The evidence he'd seen so far was more than enough for him, telling someone Elizabeth wasn't what she said she was because she 'worked too hard' wasn't going to convince many people, especially someone as cynical as Sern was.
"I don't know." He finally admitted. "I've only worked with her for a few hours."
He couldn't think of anything! Alton cursed himself, trying to find his way around this, but beyond finding definitive proof, he wasn't going to be able to save Sern a lot of heartbreak.
Or much worse, for everyone.
"Ah." Sern replied, the hopefulness in his voice dead. The two continued to work for a few moments. That was a pretty sour note to end things on, so as Sern rose with another prepared length of rebar, Alton spoke up.
"I, uh, wouldn't get my hopes up..." the Hawaiian cautioned.
"What do you mean?" Sern asked, but Alton predicted the question more than heard it. A comment she'd made during that lunch, three days ago, had just resurfaced in his mind, and a story was starting to form.
"Well, apparently, she lived on a private island, belonging to her Mother."
"Oh." Sern replied, his voice unsure. "What do you mean by that?"
"Well," Alton started. "Pacific property is really expensive, right?"
"I don't know." He replied, shrugging.
"I have first-hand experience of the Hawaiian real estate market. Take my word on this." That might not be true in other parts of the pacific, but The Marshalls' economic status with the US meant they couldn't have been far behind in prices. A question rose in the back of his mind, on the feasibility of buying real estate in Abyssal-occupied territory to sell once it's liberated, but that thought could wait. "It's very difficult to get the money to purchase your own island." He asserted, making a show of shrugging and accepting an unvoiced point. "Well, legitimately, that is."
"What," Sern asked, his tone still unsure, "like Epstien?"
That caught Alton off guard. Why had the Malasian ever cared to remember that name?
"Probably not that bad." He tempered. "I was thinking of a criminal family, or... cult, or something." Were abyssals a cult? Eh, that wasn't that important a question. Alton rose his end of the rebar to the cage, tying his side off, but instead of placing the level on the length, He met Sern's eyes. "Bottom line is this: getting too involved with her might attract attention from people we wouldn't want to."
Sern's eyes widened, and he nodded slowly.
"I see." he replied.
He probably didn't, but this likely was as far as Alton was going to get with him. Not everyone his age did their thinking with their other head, but Sern didn't seem like one of the exceptions.
Sighing, he placed the level on the rebar, focusing on the bubble as Sern straightened the rebar on his end.
"Up a little.""
He needed to get some proper proof, before Elizabeth had his coworker wrapped around her fingers.
Trinitite shifted uncomfortably, trying very hard not to notice the attention she was getting. The two humans immediately astern of her seemed to be keeping their distance, focused on their own conversation, but as she was on the ground with so many other human males, hardly moving, she was feeling more rangefinders on her then she'd ever be comfortable with.
She hoped what lay at the front of the line was going to be worth it. With the realization she didn't really know what you were supposed to eat during lunch, along with the realization that there were plenty of… suspicious options, Trinitite decided it might be best to stop using her own supplies, and do what most of the humans on the job site did already: Trading with the resupply fleets that arrived during the lunch break. That way, if she ate a food combination that was strange to them, they would have to suspect the resupply fleet, instead of her! It would cut into her humble stockpile of money, but she was planning on spending most of that on food at one time or another, anyways. It was a negligible cost to get rid of one of the weaknesses in her disguise.
The Wo-class took a deep, slow breath, allowing the smell from ahead of her to flow through her ventilation and permeate her spaces. Despite the normal sounds of the construction site, the strange scent was… fascinating. It was why she'd chosen the vehicle hailing from the 'Johnny's Bar-B-Que' Fleet over the one belonging to "Delhi Curry," which smelled suspiciously like the mistake she'd consumed on the Pacific Lilly.
The worker in front of her shuffled forwards, and Trinitite followed. She couldn't quite read their list of options yet, but judging by the meals carried by humans trickling back into the worksite, she had a lot to look forward to.
One of the many bread variants, sliced in half so a layer of shredded, juicy meat could be inserted into between the sections. A pool of the sauce gathered around it, like blood leaking from a freshly caught animal. Another human had procured slices of another meat, dark with another sauce that slathered every piece, faint, wispy steam drifting off the creature's fatty muscles. A third human left with a portion of another animal, covered in so many seasonings that it was only identifiable by the regular protrusions of precisely-cut bone. The rib's marrow was perfectly displayed for the abyssal to salivate over.
Despite the attention she was getting, Trinitite was starting to think this was one of her better ideas…
As her position in the line decreased, the smell grew in intensity. The Wo-class focused on the 'menu,' trying to interpret the list of unfamiliar terms, but it l quickly became apparent she wouldn't find much use from it. Sure, she could jam eighteen more terms into her research list, but there might be a better option…
"What can I get you?" The woman manning the vehicle's window asked, her voice calm despite how quickly she spoke.
"Yes..." Trinitite delayed, reviewing her 'battle plan.' "What is your best food?"
The question was based on another she often asked, when Trinitite wanted to kill time with ships of another fleet but didn't know what to talk about. Asking them about weapons systems was an inoffensive way to get them to talk, without sucking them into dangerous topics like each other's princesses. She had a different objective here, but the question should't clue in the fact that Trinitite had no idea what they were actually offering here, beyond meat covered in sauce.
"Well…" The human paused for a second, leaning forwards to look at the menu, before straightening back up. "You can't go wrong with the Brisket."
"It doesn't have…" Trinitite paused, searching for the next word. What was that sauce she'd really regretted drinking called, again? "...Pepper sauce, does it?"
"No, it's not spicy at all." The human reported, leaning back and presumably checking the supplies in the truck. "We could add some."
"No!" Trinitite objected, speaking louder than she'd thought she would. "Uh, please..."
"Got it," The human smirked, but the expression only lasted for a second. "What size?"
Trinitite checked the menu again. None of these were going to be enough for a carrier, but… "Uh, your largest."
The human nodded.
"Would you like to make it a combo?"
"Uh…" it didn't matter what that was. There were other humans behind her, and she was starting to take a little too much time here. "Sure?"
"Coleslaw, 'tato salad, or Beans?"
No… She'd answered incorrectly! Trinitite didn't have any other choice to pick one at random, but...
"Our Coleslaw is pretty nice." The human offered.
"Yeah. Uh, go with that." She replied, thankfulness apparent in her voice.
"Alright, what will you have to drink?"
"The, uh, regular." She replied, looking over the list of drinks. She recognized a lot of them from supplies she'd pilfered from the Fred Meyers Fleet, but hadn't tried any of them yet.
"So, Coca-cola?"
"Yes!" She accepted. Anything that got this over with!
"What size?"
Deep, the human hadn't asked this many questions to the worker in front of her, had she?
After a short wait and almost twenty dollars, Trinitite found herself scaling the scaffolding surrounding building two, several of those thinly-cut meat slices resting on a flimsy plate of… something. Trinitite wasn't sure how much she trusted the light material, but the rectangular sheet seemed to do well enough holding the meat, a plastic version of those tools used on the Pacific Lilly, and a container of a sliced plant slathered in a white sauce. In her other hand, a dark liquid sat in another container, ominous bubbles escaping from between chunks of ice that bobbed with each step she made. She was pretty excited about the food, but she wasn't looking forward to trying a drink that didn't even seem chemically stable.
Unlike on friday, Sern and Tirto had beaten Trinitite here, the two coworkers discussing something with Alton.
"I'm just saying," Alton's voice was the first she heard approaching the three. "...they aren't actors."
Tirto's reply was too faint to make out, the soft-spoken man difficult to hear from a distance.
"Hasn't she been in a lot of movies?" Sern asked. Trinitite quietly added 'movi' to her research list, but didn't announce her approach. There wasn't any point to interrupting their conversation, especially if she didn't understand what they were talking about.
"You're thinking of Missouri." Alton shook his head. "...and I haven't seen anything about her being back."
"I'm just not sure when the scheduling would work." Tirto commented. Now that Trinitite was close enough to hear him, she could see his choice of meal: A similar sauce-on-rice meal to that she'd had on the Pacific Lilly, but with a leafy green color, instead of the reddish-orange she'd had the displeasure of eating there. "They're fighting a war, after all."
"Eh, you can't fight a war all the time." Alton asserted as Trinitite found her seat. "People and machines break down after too much combat, and Iowa is both."
Iowa… Trinitite turned the name over in her head as she focused on her food. Was that the name of a ship? A high-profile admiral? As she speculated, Trinitite skewered one of the slices of meat with the plastic tool, watching how the viscous liquid dripped down to the rest of her meal.
"It's not like acting is an easy job, though," Sern argued, "even for something as lazy as an Adam Sandler comedy."
Trinitite raised the slice of brisket to her mouth before pausing. If this turned out to be spicy, what was her emergency plan? The drink could do anything, so maybe she should try to stop it with the coleslaw? It just looked like leaves, and the white sauce might not be that different from milk…
"Compared to war?" Alton asked. "Please, Sern, Tirto and I have seen combat. Elizabeth too, probably." The abyssal nodded, although she wasn't paying that much attention. She'd heard of acting, although Princesses used the term rarely enough that she never really figured it out. Maybe another topic for the research list? Anyways, this brisket had already made most of the journey to her mouth. It was time for an experimental nibble, at least.
The human from Java said something, but Trinitite was too wrapped up in the taste of the brisket to notice. The flavor was… deep. There weren't many other ways to explain it. It had a heaviness to it that Trinitite couldn't dismiss, lingering in her mouth as she quickly ate the rest of the brisket slice. The meat itself was interesting, naturally tougher than the fish she was used to, but prepared so that it would melt in her mouth, just like the meals she was so used to.
It was so new, and certainly didn't taste like the fish at Bikini, but the warm meat almost felt like home. The abyssal closed her eyes, allowing herself to be lost in the sensation. Now that she'd let it linger for a bit, she guessed it was a little spicy, but it had taken her a good amount of time to notice. Better take care of that before it became an issue…
"Sorry, I didn't mean anything like that," Sern backpedaled, Trinitite's attention returning to the conversation, "but if you were looking to destress, wouldn't you just want a vacation?"
Trinitite considered using the coleslaw to deal with the minor heat, but it was already dying down. Instead, perhaps a further experiment with the strange drink would be in order.
"I don't know." Tirto replied. Setting her tool down, Trinitite lifted the drink to her mouth and took a cautious sip. "I can't speak for her, but some people always have to be- Are you alright, Elizabeth?"
She hadn't really known what to expect, so when the fizzing drink entered her mouth, she found herself puckering in surprise. It didn't seem to be reacting with anything, thankfully, but the feeling of bubbles constantly tickling her tongue was… new. She nodded, to alleviate Tirto's concern, hoping she hadn't brought too much attention to herself. After experimentally swishing the sweet drink around, she swallowed, taking another experimental sip.
"...Never had that before, huh?" Alton asked. Trinitite nodded again, focusing on the taste of the… cola? Was that what the attendant had called it?
"Anyways..." Tirto chuckled, continuing. "Some people always have to be working on something, or they can't live with themselves. Maybe Iowa is one of those."
The conversation continued, Trinitite focusing quietly on her meal. She didn't fully understand the topic, but it didn't seem like she needed to. Besides, it meant the human's focus wasn't on her, and that was always good.
Not too much to say, here, besides dialogue taking a long time for me to write, as usual. I have a policy to ensure that updates do come out, forcing myself to write at least one sentence every day, but that snowballing into 300 words a day didn't happen until this week, really.
On the chapter itself? Thanks to Jessetheswift for betaing the first half of this chapter, although I didn't run the second by him. This'll be the last chapter for this workday, as I'm generally trying to speed up the fic now that a status quo has been established. There are some fics that can get bogged down in fluff, and I'm trying to avoid that. If I actually do is a judgment I'll leave to future readers.
I'm going to take another crack at that map project I started a while back, see if I can get an info post on that out before the next chapter. Haven't been replying to reviews here, which is pretty terrible. I'll try and do that soon, I promise!