maskormenace | (backdated to pre-Pan plot -- also threadjack Miles in the comments!)

(backdated to pre-Pan plot -- also threadjack Miles in the comments!)

[There is a thin, angular man with dark neat hair and intensely focused hazel eyes on the screen. He clears his throat when the vid starts; he's had to swallow down his nerves and put on his calm political mask to speak. His accent is a gravelly, guttural sort of Russian, as if Russians went into space and were fast-forwarded a thousand years. Which they did.]

Hello. My name's Greg. I'm adding to your barrage of new arrivals. It's still very surreal to be here, if for no other reason than that I'm on pre-space travel Earth.

[He does look honestly bemused by that.]

I was wondering what the regulations are for obtaining jobs around here. They've assigned me one, but I was hoping for something... low key. Normal, menial work. [A quirk of his lips.] I have experience putting in lights, if that's relevant, and as a navigator.

I was also looking for confirmation that all of the, ah, abilities listed in our files are real. I'd prefer not to test something like this to find out.

Thank you.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Miles' breath stops. They could be twins if Miles were older or Hermann were younger. He straightens, self consciously, trying to hid the curve of his spine. And feels intensely grateful that his diminutive stature is not easily seen over the comms. Does he have a clone in truth? Is that what's going on here? How?

In the end, he just blurts out: ]

How tall are you?

[Blinks, because out of every question he could think of, height was hardly relevant. Hermann's brow pinches, then gives something of a shrug]

Roughly 180 centimeters or 71 inches... converts to 5 foot 11, by american measurement standards.

[ In other words, exactly the height Miles would have been - should have been without the soltoxin incident. His own father is six feet tall - 5'11" seems precisely right.

It's not fair. Miles fights down an irrational spike of anger, seeing a stranger with his face and what he assumes is an uncrippled body. Somewhat bitterly: ]

Ah. I suppose one of us ought to make full use of our genes.

[There's bitterness there Hermann doesn't fully grasp, because his genes are definitely flawed in actuality. Or rather, his nervous system is, but there are more pressing concerns]

If you'd like, my.. [He can't say it, not to Miles] Lab partner is a biologist, and he could determine the extent of those similarities.

[ Does Miles want to know? ... Should he want to know? How much cover can he really blow getting a genetic scan? It's not as though they have anyone to compare his DNA to.

It would be interesting, he decides. Hell, maybe he'll make a few allies like this. ]

... Why not?

[For Miles' sake, he hopes he doesn't share the same propensity for his disease. It's enough justification to offer at least, even if it won't mean much if he does.]

Good. Alright, then. [He feels better for having a plan of action] We will need to schedule that for another time, however. Dr. Geiszler and I will be absent all of next week, so we'll touch base upon our return and set up an appointment, if that would be suitable?

[ That will give him some time to recover mentally. And to back out if he and Gregor convene and decide otherwise. ]

Yes, that will be perfectly fine. Greg and I need to settle in anyway.

[He nods, relaxing a bit.]

Fair enough. I wish you well with settling in and finding more appropriate employment for your skill sets. I'll be in touch.

Thank you, Dr. Gottlieb. I appreciate this.

[ And he quietly turns his side of the communicator off. For once Gregor's going to end up being the more talkative of the two - Miles can scarcely bear to look at this mirror of himself. ]

[Miles may have turned off the comm, but if he turns it on, he'll have a message from a very excited Newt who is practically bouncing in his seat.]

--HOLY SHIT HERMANN. HOLY Fucking SHIT, I GO ON A COFFEE RUN AND YOU ACQUIRE A TWIN FROM ANOTHER DIMENSION--WHAT ARE THE ODDS, ok, not literally, I don't literally want you to tell me what the odds are but WHAT ARE THE ODDS. Of all the dumb faces, this place chooses to bring two of you!

[He runs a hand through his hair, not to smooth it, but in an excited, nervous, manic gesture.]

But yes! Hi! The name's Newton Geiszler--the Doctor Geiszler that Hermann, uh, Dr. Gottlieb mentioned--his biologist--but, uh, call me Newt!!

Only Hermann gets away with calling me Newton here.

[Breathless.] Wow.

He's--you're so ...young. (I swear to god, Hermann, he looks almost like you did when we met. Dude, this is fantastic. You'd have told me if you were a clone, right?) How did-- Do I--Not to parrot your buddy's question, but do I look familiar to you? Is there a Newt Geiszler equivalent in your world and have you met him?

This is bizarre. This is just, I mean, it's fantastic, but ...two Hermann.

You're late, Newton, and we may look alike, but that does not mean he is anything like me.

I am not late!! You started without me! You could have WAITED.

And yeah! No, I don't think he's like you. Hey. Hey! WHAT? I said he looked like when we met, I wasn't--stop the death glare.

[Calms down just a little, but he's still fairly miffed]

Just so long as you get it through your head that there are not in fact, two of me.

[He thinks you're being ridiculous, Hermann.] Herm, babe, don't worry. I've only got brainwaves for you.

Do not call me that. [But okay, he's reasonably reassured] Anyway, we'll see if we share any actual similarities when we return. There's no reason we should..

[Casually pats his knee.] Scared? Look, if you two are alike or aren't, it doesn't change who either of you are, does it? I mean, does it matter?

Of course not. [His tone is a little too sharp for that to be true. He glances down to his lap, then looks straight at Newton]

Does it?

[Oh god, that face. Hermann. Newt considers turning off the feed to give them some privacy because, wow, Hermann-insecurity is not a thing Hermann would want broadcast.]

As a biologist, Hermann, let me assure your mathematical brain that we humans are a lot more than just our DNA. FUNNY, I know! Things are more than just what they're coded to be.

video

mathemagier - 2016-01-03 07:03 (UTC) - Expand

video

driftsintobuffetline - 2016-01-03 07:15 (UTC) - Expand

video -> action

mathemagier - 2016-01-03 07:29 (UTC) - Expand

action

driftsintobuffetline - 2016-01-03 07:59 (UTC) - Expand

[ Really, Newt. Really. Fortunately by now Miles has had his outburst with Gregor and is much, much calmer on this topic, or this could have gone rather uglier. There's still a slight gap between receiving the message and Miles responding to it.

Talk about role reversal. The scientist who looks like Miles is the taciturn one, and the one that more closely resembles Gregor (albeit without anywhere near the same level of similarity) seems to have Miles' manic energy. Dear god. Is that what it's like dealing with him all the time? No wonder Ivan complains so much.

It's charming by the time Miles gets to the end of the message, so he manages to smile genuinely. ]

How are you so sure there aren't two Miles? Because that's what I see here. [ Joking, really. ]

... Regardless, it's good to make your acquaintance, Newt. Dr. Gottlieb had mentioned the possibility of coming up to run a few tests next week? See how similar we really are.

Ha ha, very funny. [ Still, he's dealt with clones. Monster clones, but still. He eyes Hermann suspiciously, then laughs. ]

The fact that you're willing to let me run a test on you at all basically tells me you two have little in common other than that face.

[ You do not even know. He grins just a bit. ]

Most likely. I assure you that I'm no scientist - though, I am used to seeing double. My progenitor just happens to not be here, unless Hermann here is secretly a time traveling Barrayaran Vor lord.

Not unless [stumbles a little over the name] Barrayaran Vor is secretly Bavaria. Or vice versa. Probably not the weirdest or most sci-fi thing between the four of us, to be honest, so what should I be on the lookout for if he's one of those? Tentacles? Please say tentacles. [No, really, please don't.]

If not a scientist, what are you, exactly? I'm late to the party and haven't combed through all the replies you've gotten, so you're gonna have to humor me if there's some redundancy in my questions. What do you and your pal do back home?

[ He can barely get a word in edgewise. It's exhilarating. It's terrifying. ]

No, no tentacles. Entirely human. Alien only in the most technical sense of the word.

[ Miles bows a little. ]

Admiral Miles Naismith, of the Dendarii Free Mercenary Fleet. And my companion is Greg Vorthys, a Barrayaran Vor lord currently on the run from his home planet.

Well, that's a relief.

[How very scifi indeed. Newt makes a little face at the bow, as if he thinks you're very hoity-toity for it, Miles.] Fancy. What exactly does the Mercenary Fleet do, beyond taking on illicit human cargo? And what's your fleet of? Spaceships? Or something actually cool and unique?

[ It's instinct, jeez. He at least grins rather widely all through it. ]

Spaceships, primarily. A wide variety thereof. We take on a number of contracts - precision rescues, war prevention, that kind of thing.