“Why are you scrambling with that vent?” the speaker asked curiously.
“Checking if there isn’t any bugging in there. I feel watched and listened at every step.” A small cloud of water vapour floated up from the advisor’s crouched form.
The speaker looked about their private room sceptically. “Inside the Mothership? Why would anyone do that? Fleet Command listens to us at will anyway.”
The advisor screwed the vent lock back in place and exhaled another puff of vapour. “Fleet Command I can trust. But I feel there’s some leftist on the ship.”
The speaker leaned on the arm of his armchair and ran a quick, nervous hand across its smooth surface. “Leftist?” He asked, baffled.
“Are you even following the news? We’ve got magical ships on our tails. Bloody magical ships! Someone must’ve sold them the design. I don’t believe these bird half-wits came up with something like that.” The advisor stood up, letting out another puff of water vapour from his electric cigar.
“But these are magical ships... could you stop smoking and look me in the eye for once?” The speaker’s gaze became stern for a second. The situation weighed him down far more than he let on.
The advisor took the cigar from his lips and stuffed it in his pocket. Immediately after he produced a box of pills and took one, crushing it with his teeth quickly.
The speaker continued. “Why, thank you. You see, these are magical ships. We couldn’t have constructed these ourselves. Who would be qualified to design such a ship, impossible to steer with our own mind, without us knowing about it? They must’ve designed it themselves.”
“Even you don’t sound convinced.” The advisor’s hand reached into his pocket, but stopped abruptly. “Once again, I don’t believe they could do that without any external help.”
“What about that idea of there being some forgotten remnants of our race?”
The advisor chuckled. “Don’t be ridiculous. No one believes it and I’m not going to lean that way. Especially not if there’s another, far more plausible explanation.”
The speaker shook his head and looked down in surrender. “Fleet Command has all the rooms under watch. I’m sure she’d notice something.”
The advisor chuckled once again. “With almost our whole personnel having access to most of our data? I highly doubt that. It could be a pilot, one of our engineers, one of us even.” He scratched his chin, his gaze on the speaker intensified. “Did you do it?”
The speaker shook his head and looked him in the eye. “How could I doom so many of ours to a certain death? How?!” His gaze pierced through the advisor. “Why do you accuse me? Perhaps you’re the leftist!”
The advisor didn’t even flinch. “One can never be too careful.”
The speaker sighed. “No one’s stopping you.” He turned toward the enormous window that overlooked the planet. Although the only thing visible was the blue ocean and a layer of clouds rimming it, he knew there was a war going on, one that could decide the fate of their whole mission.
“Ambassador unit’s advisor, report! Ambassador unit’s advisor, acquire your headset!”
The advisor’s and speaker’s eyes met for a brief moment, pupils dilated in shock.
“But we...” started the speaker.
“We’re a unit, yes. I’ve no idea what they want from me. Let’s both hope it’s for some short briefing.”
The speaker stood still. He merely followed the advisor with his eyes as the latter grabbed his headset and walked out the door. His eyes lingered for a moment on the spot his friend had been a moment ago. He tried his best to piece the puzzle, to make whatever sense at all, but the result terrified him.