The Man from Pons

Gallus blinked and shook his head. "You're the one that climbed up that entire mountain?" Donald nodded. "Yessir, waste of time and oxygen as far as the media is concerned." Gallus shrugged. "Sometimes hard things are worth doing." Gallus paused for a moment, stirring his drink. "When you reached the top, what did you feel?" Donald squinted at him. "I feel things all the time buddy, be more specific." Gallus sighed in annoyance. "Did you feel.... alive? Did you feel exhilarated? Like your actions meant something?"

Donald hummed thoughtfully. "Sounds like you're projecting new friend. Are you not feeling very alive lately?" Gallus groaned. "You didn't answer the question." Donald set his drink down purposefully. "I'll answer yours when you answer mine." "Alright," Gallus said. "I've been feeling pretty down about the world lately. Everything just seems like its decaying around me. All you heard on the Q-Cast is Bardian Raids and resource cuts. I feel like the boat of civilization is sinking and we're all stuck on board."

Donald nodded. "You're describing what it feels like to be part of a decaying empire. Which you are, by the way." "Maybe," Gallus murmured. "But what difference does it make at this point?" Donald shrugged. "Some of us just get off on rearranging the deck chairs as the boat goes down." Gallus rubbed his chin, the alcohol starting to test his motor skills. "Is that why you climbed Pons?" Gallus asked. Donald shook his head. "Nope, I climbed Pons because I wanted to. I didn't do it to spite the world, I did it in spite of the world."

Gallus sighed. "Are we speaking in riddles now?" "Maybe." Donald replied. "So what brings you here? It is a Wednesday, after all." Gallus cringed, reluctant to reveal what exactly his job was. As friendly as this guy seemed, people had a tendency to get a little angry when they found out you were cutting off the air supply. "Reluctant, huh? Let me guess, you're a government official currently reaching lethal levels of self-loathing." He laughed his own joke, but then noticed Gallus' uncomfortable look.

"Oh shit, you actually are." He mumbled. "I don't really mind, I'll drink with anyone, but I wouldn't be too vocal about that kind of job if you want to keep romping around this part of town." Gallus sighed. "I was trying not to tell you." He moaned. Donald laughed loudly once again. "Well Gallus, stay away from poker, or even politics actually. Your face gives away quite a bit."

Gallus sighed and downed the rest of his drink. It tasted like poison, and he had to grip the bar for support as it burned a hole through his stomach lining. After the drink settled, he belched, and lowered his head into his arms. "Fuck, I might as well just come clean." He moaned.

"I work in resource allocation. Water and oxygen. I work in oxygen. They announced another huge ass air cut today, and I've been racking my brains trying to figure out how to stop it, or how to mitigate the suffering it's going to cause. But I realized something. I can't do shit. No one can. The second you try and stop the fucking rot they laugh you right out of the goddamn building. I want to make things better. That's why I signed the fuck up. But I can't do a thing. Only thing I can do right is drink."

With that, Gallus went to take another sip of his Cruiser, only to find the glass empty. He stared at it, drunkenly wondering when he had finished the entire beverage. Before he could get too caught up though, Donald silently reached across the bar and pulled the empty cup away. When Gallus raised his hand for another, Donald gently lowered his arm. "I think one Cruiser is all we need for tonight buddy."

"Do you know why they're making more cuts?" Donald asked. He tone had suddenly become gentler, and even in his intoxicated state, Gallus could tell he was fishing for information. Gallus also knew that he probably shouldn't divulge anything, but he was past the point of caring much about the decorum of his position. "Don't know exactly. Something about the army needing the spare energy for fucking ships or something."

Donald frowned. "I thought we did most of our shipbuilding and mineral collection further out in the solar system." Gallus shrugged. "That's what I thought too. But you aren't stupid, you know the state the outer system is in." "Yeah, I do." Donald said, taking a hefty sip of his own drink. "Still," Donald, continued. "Do you actually believe what they're saying?"

Gallus raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" "I mean," Donald said. "Do you believe the story they're telling you. Do you believe the cuts are because of the military?" Gallus groaned. "I don't actually know where the power and air are going, but it doesn't change shit. At the end of the day, I still have less to work with." Donald swirled his drink cautiously, eyeing down his new compatriot. "You have access to the resource allocation systems, I bet you could find out."

"That sounds like a good way to get fired." Donald nodded. "True, it does. But you don't look like you're in love with the gig anyway." Gallus coughed. "I'm not. But I have a fiancée, and a house, and..." Donald shook his head. "Living the Martian colonial dream, for sure. But how much good will those things do you if you can't sleep at night." "I don't know." Gallus said, "But I enjoy having a place to sleep, and I'd like to keep it."

Donald raised his hands in resignation. "I get it, I get it. I'm asking some random guy I've never met to snoop on his employer. It was a moonshot; not that any of our moons are worth shooting for. He rummaged into his jacket and pulled out a small scrap of paper and began scribbling on it. "Here's my contact information. I'd send it over the Q-Net but there's too many prying eyes on the quantum sphere. If you have a change of heart, let me know."

Gallus nodded, his mind swimming now from the spirits and the strange conversation he had just had. He clumsily grabbed the paper from Donald and jammed it into his jacket pocket. Donald stood up, fixing his own jacket. He fumbled with it a bit; the adventurer was not immune to the effects of alcohol either. "Well, I think that's it for me tonight, and hopefully, for you too. Maybe I'll see you around here again." Gallus gave a non-committal grunt, and Donald laughed, patting him on the back as he left.

Gallus sat for a moment in agony, as the world spun around him. After a moment, he managed to get up from his seat and stumble to the front door. He mumbled into the device on his wrist to call a pod. It was late now, and there was no wait time for a transportation pod. He fell into the cold and cramped little pod, and more or less moaned the word. "Home." Fortunately for Gallus, hundreds of years of transportation AI was able to understand him.

The pod moved with a sickening start, and Gallus was carried off into the night.