by Andrew Gates
“Ooh, I see,” Beth replied. She nodded her head. “That feeling can be tough. Well I guess it’s good for you that there are lots of guys here.”
“It’s not about the quantity of men. There were lots of men on that deep-space outpost. It’s the quality of men,” Stein explained.
“How long have you been thinking about this?”
“It’s been on my mind for a while,” Stein replied. “It’s frustrating. Look at it from my point of view – I’ve finally found the perfect job for me with everything I want: adventure, excitement, the chance to pilot a fighter. On paper, everything should be great! But there’s just something missing. I can’t help but feel unfulfilled, like I need that special-someone in my life.”
“Have you been going on dates?”
“Here and there,” Stein answered, “but none of them ever pan out.”
“How about with women?”
“Don’t start with me there,” Stein snapped. “I’m not into that.”
“Sorry! Noted.” Beth raised her hands, defensively.
“Look, I know you mean well, but I don’t know what you can offer that I haven’t already tried. I feel like I’ve tried everything to find the right guy,” Stein replied.
“Have you tried EvilDoers?”
“Uh… no. What is EvilDoers?” Stein asked.
A grin formed across Beth’s face, as if she were itching to share the news.
“It’s the newest thing. Everyone in the World Ender Base has been using it.”
“Everyone?”
“Yeah, even I’ve been using it.”
“How does it work?” Stein asked, genuinely interested.
“I’ll show you.” Beth turned to the monitor and waved her hand before it. “Activate EvilDoers,” she said.
The screen displayed the image of a heart with crossbones through it and the text EvilDoers across the center. The words sign in and create new profile were displayed beneath the logo.
“Are we really doing this?”
“We are,” Beth answered. “Create new profile.”
The image on screen changed after the microphone picked up the command. It now listed a series of questions.
“This part is for you,” Beth said, turning to face Stein.
Stein gulped. She could not believe she was really about to do this.
“Name: Stein Warrington,” she started. “Location: World Ender Base. Occupation: Fighter pilot. Age: 28. Looking for: Men. Height: Why the hell does it ask for my height?”
“Lots of guys are into that kind of thing.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, just tell them your height,” Beth said, urging her on.
“But I don’t understand why they need that. Can I just skip it?”
“Yeah, but you might miss some matches if you leave it out.”
“Fine. I’m willing to take that risk,” Stein said. “Next question.”
The screen changed to a display an algebra equation. Stein carefully read the equation aloud.
“2 = 3X(1+X) – 4X,” she said. “Now that’s just ridiculous. Why is a dating program asking me a math question?”
“I guess it’s to see if you’re smart.”
“Well that’s stupid!”
“Just solve the problem!” Beth said, urging her on.
Stein sighed. She would put up with this nonsense, for now.
“Let’s see, first I need to simplify the equation, which brings it to 2 = 3X^2 – X,” Stein said aloud as she thought through it.
“Come on, Stein. Get on with it already!” pleaded Beth.
“I’m doing this as fast as I can! Ssh,” Stein replied. She looked at the screen again for a few moments, this time studying it in silence. “−3X – 2 = 0,” she finally said, “or… X = 1.”
The screen changed again before her eyes, displaying yet another question. This time the words Sickness Level filled the screen.
“What’s this?” Stein asked.
“It’s your sickness level. You have to give it a score.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Just say ‘one’. Guys like one. That means you’re healthy.”
“I am healthy!”
“Then you aren’t lying if you say one!” Beth said, urging her on.
“One,” Stein said.
The screen changed again, this time displaying the text Evilness Level.
“Eight,” Stein said, not wasting a second.
“What?” Beth added, turning to face her. A look of astonishment filled her face. “Why did you say eight?”
“I don’t know. Is that bad?”
“You should have said ten!” Beth said.
The screen displayed yet another question. Stein studied it.
“Okay, this is the last one. Don’t screw this up,” Beth explained.
“This is the last question?” Stein clarified.
“Yeah. You only get one chance. Then the program will start to place you with matches.”
“Well this question doesn’t make any sense,” Stein said, motioning to the monitor.
“Just answer it!”
“Which planet?” Stein read aloud. “But Beth, I don’t even know what that means.”
“Just say something.”
“Uh… my planet,” Stein answered, not entirely sure what she was saying.
Gathering results… read the text on screen. Generating matches…
A sea of faces suddenly appeared on screen. Dozens of men stared back at her, some smiling and happy, others somber and rugged.
Stein sighed and quickly devoured the rest of the wine in her glass. This was going to be a long night.
Part Three: The Resistance
If you are receiving this message, you are one of the few we can trust. The following information is for your eyes and your eyes alone.
We are the Resistance Alliance, the only thing standing in the way of the Totalus Empire. Founded in 2540 by a brave band of renegades and led by the exiled former politician, Queen Dzerma, the Resistance has worked tirelessly for the last 22 years to destabilize and destroy the Empire’s regime.
If you are reading this, you possess a unique skillset that we desire. We have need for someone like you within our ranks. And if stopping the monstrous Emperor Totalus is not enough to convince you, we also offer competitive pay and a fast-paced work environment with some of the most compelling minds in the galaxy. You’ll get to work with high-profile celebrities like Resistance Commander Swarf or former R&B singer turned soldier Miles Henderson.
If interested, there is no application process necessary. Our human resources team has already screened you and determined that you are a qualified candidate.
The fate of the galaxy rests in your hands. We need you. Make the right choice.
Questions? Our point-of-contact in HR, Nancy Brooks, is standing by 24/7 to answer your calls!
***
Nancy,
Thank you for reaching out to me regarding joining the Resistance Alliance. The message I received from your office seemed pretty generic. I assume you would be bringing me on as a fighter pilot?
I am definitely interested in joining the ranks of the Resistance. This is a deeply personal issue for me. My husband was shot by a Totalus Killtrooper squad on Frostbyte several years ago. Though their aim was disastrous, and my husband survived without so much as a scratch, I will still never forgive them for their heinous actions. I seek revenge to this day.
It would be wonderful if I could arrange a meeting with you in a covert location of your choosing. I have a few questions about the organization as well as the position I’d be brought on for. Let me know about timing and scheduling (I will be heading out on a trip at the end of the month, so the sooner, the better) and I’ll get back to you!
Thanks again for the opportunity. I won’t let you down.
- Helga Dodson
***
The Resistance pilot dropped her cards to the table, snickering wi
th a grin as big as her winnings were about to be. The others pulled back in frustration, some throwing their own cards down in disgust.
“Royal flush,” she proudly declared as she displayed her hand.
“Dammit, Helga!” Reggie replied. The smoke from his cigarette filled the room. “How come you always have the good hand?”
“Yeah, do I detect a cheater?” Elyse added, leaning in.
Helga placed both hands to the air, innocently. She was no cheater and they knew it. Elyse was merely teasing her.
“What can I say? I just have luck on my side,” Helga retorted. “Alright guys, pay up!”
Helga pulled out her system’s reader and watched as the others all transferred their units to her account. It made her grin to see the numbers go up.
The screen provided a strong source of light in the otherwise dim room. Helga took a moment to look around as the numbers continued to climb.
Here they were in the cold underbelly of the Resistance Alliance’s hidden Jorbulon IX base. Well, more specifically, the backroom in the basement of that base. The damp cement walls smelled like piss, though the smoke from Reggie’s cigarette helped mask the scent. Rats and spiders scurried here and there, providing the cardplayers with a bit of entertainment whenever they ran by.
Stomp! Jordan’s foot suddenly came down hard.
“Did you get a rat?” Elyse asked, leaning forward over the table to get a better look.
“A cockroach,” he answered, lifting his boot.
“Hey Helga, don’t tease us. Those numbers still can’t be rising,” Reggie said, snickering.
Helga checked her system’s reader again. Sure enough, he was right. All the units had been transferred to her account.
“It’s all there,” she confirmed. Helga stood up from the table and bowed to them. “Thank you all for the game… and for the winnings. Now I do believe it’s time for me to-”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Gabriel interrupted, waving to her. Helga stopped mid-sentence to let him speak. “How’s about you keep this game going, huh? Give us one last chance to win our money back.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Helga said, shaking her head. She placed her system’s reader into her uniform pocket. “You know what they say about quitting while you’re ahead.”
“Yeah, but that only applies to you. We’re all behind,” Gabriel replied, motioning to the others around the table. “Wouldn’t be fair to us if you quit now, would it?”
“I don’t know,” Helga said. “I do have all this money. So I think that means I can do whatever I want.”
“Come on, he’s right. It’ll be fun! Join us for another round!” Reggie added, motioning to her empty seat.
“Helga, Helga, Helga!” Elyse began to chant.
Soon they all joined in, chanting her name in unison.
Helga sighed. She could not believe she was about to do this. She stepped forward and pulled out the chair. Applause erupted as she sat back down.
“One more round. That’s it,” she clarified.
“Sure, sure,” Elyse replied in a tone of sarcasm.
Jordan took a few moments to shuffle the deck, then dealt the cards. Once everyone had their hand, Helga took a peak. She could not believe what she had.
“Player left of the dealer starts. That’s you, Helga,” Jordan said.
“I bet five.”
“Starting small, huh? Is this some psychological tactic? Come on, Helga. We all know you’re good for more,” Elyse said in her normal enthusiastic voice. “I’ll raise you. Let’s bring it to 25. We’ll have ourselves a real game.”
“I’ll call it,” Reggie said, emotionlessly.
“I’ll raise by five,” Gabriel added in a confident tone.
“I’ll call it too,” added Jordan. “There is now 115 on the table.”
“I’ll match that,” Helga stated. Her words were blunt.
“Match it? What do you mean? You mean call it?” Reggie asked.
“No. I mean I’m betting 115,” she clarified.
“What the hell?” Elyse asked in a tone of disbelief. “You can’t be serious. There’s just no way. You’re bluffing! What are the odds you have a good hand again? I don’t buy it.”
“So what are you going to do?” Jordan asked.
“I’m going to call it,” Elyse said, confidently.
“I also don’t buy it, but if I’m wrong, I can’t afford to stay in this game, not with 345 on the table. I fold,” Reggie said, placing his cards down onto the table.
“I’ll call it,” Gabriel said, leaning back in his chair.
“I fold too,” added Jordan. “We’re on the last round. There’s three of you left and 460 on the table.”
“I’ll raise it to 140,” Helga said, staring straight at Elyse.
“I’ll raise it to 150,” Elyse retorted, not taking her eyes away from Helga for even a second.
“You two are fucking insane,” Gabriel said, dropping his cards to the table. “I fold.”
“Alright ladies, time to show your hands,” Jordan ordered. There was almost a tremble to his voice, as if he were nervous.
Helga revealed her cards. She spread them out across the table for all to see.
“Full house,” she declared. “Three aces and two tens.”
“Good Lord, Helga. How do you always get the good hand?” Reggie exclaimed.
Elyse let out a deep sigh. She shook her head, then revealed her own cards.
“Full house,” she said. “Three kings and two fours.” There was a tone of defeat in her voice.
“Ooh! Such a close match!” Gabriel shouted, so excited that he practically fell from his chair.
“Calm down, Gabe,” Jordan said, motioning to him. “You shouldn’t be celebrating. Now you owe Helga even more money.”
Helga smirked. She knew they were not going to like what she was about to say next.
“Alright guys, it’s time to pay up. You wanted this last round. You got it.” She stood up from the chair and waved them off.
“I can’t believe she did it again,” Reggie muttered under his breath. He seemed genuinely flabbergasted.
Whooh, whooh, whooh! A siren suddenly blared, causing everyone to look up to the doorway. Reggie and Elyse promptly stood up from their chairs.
“What is it?” Gabriel asked.
“Ssh, just listen!” Jordan replied.
“Good afternoon and greetings to all Resistance Alliance Jorbulon IX base soldiers,” a calm female voice said over the loudspeakers. The sirens stopped blaring so that everyone could hear the message. “The Resistance is committed to making our community a better place. Please wait for an important announcement.”
Everyone in the room stood still and listened as muffled jazz music filled the air. Helga found herself impatiently tapping her feet. She always hated the music they played to fill the time. It reminded her of a waiting room in the doctor’s office. Finally, after a few moments, the music was replaced by a new voice.
“Base personnel, this is Queen Dzerma. Report to the mission room immediately. Repeat, all personnel, report to the mission room immediately.”
“Dzerma is making the announcement herself. What do you think that could mean?” Reggie wondered.
“I don’t know,” Helga replied. “Let’s get up there and find out!”
It was not a long walk to get to the other side of the base. Resistance Alliance resources were thin, which was abundantly apparent in the construction of their facilities. Space was tight and everything was within a close walking distance.
By the time Helga and the others arrived in the mission room, most of the personnel were already there, sitting in rows of folding chairs. A podium and a monitor stood at the front of the seats, though most people chose to sit in the back.
Queen Dzerma emerged from a doorway behind the podium, garbed in her long white dress and elaborate headpiece designed to look like a porcupine with its needles fully extended. The young queen took her place behind t
he podium and cleared her throat.
“Now, now, let’s have some people move up front. There are plenty of seats up here,” Dzerma said, motioning to the front rows.
Helga had not yet taken a seat. She did not want to sit in the front row either, but Dzerma had called them out on sitting in the back. It would look foolish to sit anywhere else.
Helga grunted and found a seat in the front row, expecting her friends to follow her there. But when she arrived and looked around, she was the only one in the row. She quickly turned around and studied the room. Her friends had all taken seats in the back.
“Some friends,” she sarcastically muttered under her breath as she turned back around to face the podium.
Dzerma cleared her throat again and clapped her hands, activating the nearby monitor. It glowed with the image of a bright yellow pyramid on screen.
“Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I know you are probably wondering why we have gathered you here so suddenly,” the queen began. She paused for a moment. “We have just received perhaps the most valuable intel in the history of our alliance. The World Ender Base, the greatest weapon of the Totalus Empire, has a weakness.”
Gasps and mumbles filled the room. Even Helga could not help but jolt in surprise when hearing the words. If what Dzerma said was true, this could finally be the chance the Resistance Alliance needed to deal a damaging blow to the Empire.
“Calm down, calm down,” Dzerma said, motioning to those in the room. The voices slowly quieted around her. “We have just received intel that the World Ender Base has a vulnerable thermal exhaust port located at the tip of the structure.”
A red arrow pointed to the top of the yellow pyramid on the screen.
“A simple rocket launch directly into this vulnerable exhaust port is enough to trigger a chain reaction that will lead to the entire base’s demise. The firepower of one fighter is enough to deliver the blow on its own, though the shot will have to be precise. The exhaust port is exactly half-a-square-meter in size.”
“Excuse me, Queen Dzerma,” a voice interrupted. Helga turned to face the speaker, a seasoned pilot named Parce. “Assuming this information is accurate, that’s a small target. To hit a half-a-meter exhaust port would require incredible precision. Nobody could hit a shot like that.”