Déjà Vu
She took a deep breath and said to her boss, "So, this is your, um, Brain Tumbler."
Sasha took a quiet drag from his cigarette as his new assistant lumbered around his Brain Tumbler. Sighing out the smoke, he said, "Yes, it is."
Sheegor pursed her lips. She hobbled around it again, taking in its rather large form. The metallic purple exterior had a fine layer of dust coating it. Green, leathery pumps were connected to it, an addition which made her scratch her head. She knew modern Brain Tumblers didn't need extra pumps. It was also much longer than she expected, its' structure extending into the ceiling and making an occasional shudder as if it would collapse to the floor in a heap of nuts and bolts.
"If you don't mind me asking, what year was this made?" Sheegor wondered, placing her mittened hand on the cool metal.
Shifting over to the control panel, he pressed a few buttons and replied, "1998."
"O-oh, is that so?" she crooned, wariness seeping into her voice. She glanced over her shoulder. "I, um, well, doesn't this camp-?"
"If you're asking why I have such a cheap Brain Tumbler-" He looked back at her, the iridescent lights above them reflecting off the rims of his glasses, "-I bought it because HQ insisted the camp didn't need one." He scoffed and shook his head. "Insisting the camp didn't need one, the Heads was certainly wrong on that. How was I supposed to do my research if I didn't have a Brain Tumbler?"
She fidgeted in place and wrung her hands together. "But why wouldn't the Psychonauts give you one?"
He took another long, slow drag. Holding it, he narrowed his eyes at the Brain Tumbler. He breathed out the smoke, and it swirled around his head, almost forming a light gray halo.
"The budget they give to the camps is rather small. We're given basic facilities while the rest is up to the counselors to provide." He flicked a few switches behind him, the Brain Tumbler whirring to life and making Sheegor step back. Fiddling with his cigarette as if he was twirling a pen, he said, "The Lesser Head is very irritating when it comes to funding. If she had her way at the budget meeting last month, then she wouldn't have spent a dime on the camps."
Sheegor fiddled with the fabric of her shapeless dress. She hadn't expected the Psychonauts to be so stingy with their money. She thought they would have given the counselors anything they needed in order to help the cadets control their powers and learn new techniques.
But as Sasha rubbed his temples, he reminded her of what happened to Thorney Towers. There hadn't been any attempt to salvage the asylum or help the inmates by the government. As soon as it was reported that her father killed himself, they gave the evacuation order and flooded Shaky Claim, paying the inmates to leave with their illnesses ignored. Instead of providing any real assistance, they drowned the problem, her father's legacy now resting at the bottom of Lake Oblongata.
A chill raced down her hunched spine. She felt goosebumps prick her arms as cruel conclusions settled in her mind. The government hadn't helped the inmates, and it seemed like the Psychonauts focused on other priorities. If they weren't willing to help the children, would the past repeat itself?
"But what HQ refuses to give us, we give to ourselves," Sasha said, dragging Sheegor out of her contemplation. He crossed over to her and patted the Brain Tumbler, leaving a handprint in the dust when he drew back. "While this one is the cheaper model, it helped Raz realize the truth about Oleander's scheme." He furrowed his brow at the dust gathering between his fingers and wiped his glove on his jacket. Levitating the cigarette by his head, he grinned down at her. "Ford said that we endeavor to build strong minds here. Even if we aren't up to standard with the latest Brain Tumbler because of the budget, I intend to continue working with the cadets in my own way. Whether they choose to take me up on it, though, that's all up to them."
Sheegor straightened as best as she could, her eyes widening. "D-do you really-do you really think so?"
"Yes, of course." He levitated the cigarette over to a glass ashtray in a messy corner of his lab. "By the way, I'll need to know what I can do to make you comfortable as my assistant. Tell me any accomodations you need, and I'll provide them."
She returned his smile, any traces of worry gone from her expression. She wondered if he could sense her joy as she ambled closer to him. Bobbing her head up and down, she exclaimed, "Oh, thank you, Mr. Nein! I really, really appreciate all of this!"
"There's no need to be formal. You can call me Sasha," he replied, patting her shoulder, and as ideas swirled in her head to improve Whispering Rock, Sheegor felt like she could finally put the past behind her.
