God Knows I'm Good!

"...but that was twenty years ago and now I feel like I'm over it, you know, even though I could technically do it now?"

"I understand," said Stella.

"So instead, I was like, all right, Isla, time to turn a new leaf, so I went for social work, but it wasn't exactly social work until later on if you know what I mean? At the beginning I just wanted to help if you know what I mean? But the thing is that as I traveled the world I realized that instead of helping I was just polluting the atmosphere like I know that it's not as bad as it used to be but it's not helpful is what I'm saying so then I moved to the Moon, and something just clicked, if you get me. Something just clicked."

"I understand," pressured Stella (into him shutting up).

"There's something so good about helping others turn a new leaf, too, especially when I've been where they've been, but the thing is that a lot of people don't seem to want to be helped, which sucks, but it is what it is and there's nothing we can do about it. For a while I also thought of starting a band, but then I realized it'd be something like the cycle of abuse, or... wait, that's not the term, but you get what I mean. Why hurt yourself for no reason? That's why I left Jupiter, but... yeah."

"Yeah," begged Stella. "I understand. Please. I get it."

"Sometimes I miss it, though. Mostly the music. I feel like I can't listen to it anymore without wanting to be on the other side again, if you know what I mean? Once you're on the stage for long enough you can't not be. I haven't gone to a concert in decades. I don't think I could. Like I said, why hurt yourself for no reason? When I see my band touring I just think, good for you, you know. Good for you. Nobody knows who I am here and that's good for me. But yeah. Did that answer your question?"

"No," replied Stella. "WAIT—"

"If you were to ask me what I'd like to do that—"

"Stop."

"—I hadn't done before but... sure."

Any longer and her processors would've really started to whir. Not only had he not answered her question, but he'd turned her thoughts into letter soup.

"Thing is," Isla continued, "These days you can be whatever you want if you truly want it. It didn't use to be this way even a century ago, but now it is. It's just that even if everyone is born the same in theory, in practice, it's always different. We can get rid of systemic inequality all we want, but we'll never get rid of suffering, or hatred, or even greed, so can we get rid of it, really, or can we just treat it? By the way, it's getting late, so I'm ordering takeout. It's a shame you can't eat, cuz I have a friend that... huh? What? EIGHTY minute wait time?"

Stella rebooted a few secondary processors. Her head still hurt.

"Fifty minute wait time? Seventy...? Huh? HUH? Oh, come on, are they still trying to make delivery drones a thing? They will never be a thing. You know how easy it is to steal things from them? Oh, come on."

"I wonder... could I get a job as a delivery drone?"

"Nope," said Isla. "Minimum requirement is half a decade of experience."

Of course.

"...and the nearest taco restaurant is TEN kilometers away?"

It did seem silly. Drones had been a thing back during the war, but Stella tended to shoot them on sight. They were lucky enough to lack conscience, which was exactly why they couldn't tell a customer from a thief. An android or a person could, however. Since Stella was silly, she'd developed a nonsensical aversion towards Isla (and his verbal torture had certainly not helped), but it was true that his digestive system presented signs of hunger, so she told him, "The neighbors have peach pie."

"Yeah, I know, but you said they weren't home."

"One of them is. I could threaten him into opening the door."

"Please don't," said Isla.

What was it with humans and not wanting to eat? For a while, Stella had considered purchasing groceries in case of emergencies like these (especially with how often they seemed to occur), but now they'd be a reminder of her latest goodbye, and as Isla had mentioned, 'why hurt yourself for no reason'?

...but Isla was hungry. Stella paced across the living room, to the door, to the couch without cushions, to the kitchen divider.

"You could open a taco restaurant," Isla yapped. "They're easy to make, they're cheap, and they're very tasty. Huge back in my hometown. I wrote an album dedicated to them."

"How many decades of experience would I need for that?"

"None. It's your own business, so."

This wouldn't do. She'd just used sarcasm. Stella tugged at her ear, but it was no use. The damage had been done. "I hate sarcasm," she said, to him and to herself.

"Oh, no, no, I wasn't being sarcastic. I mean, who's going to tell you how to run your own business, if you get me? Ah! Wait, that should answer your question. I kind of wished I'd open a taco place sometime. Why not open one? I'll even help you out."

"I'm afraid of tacos."

"...oh, that's too bad. I'm sorry. Won't bring the topic back up again. Why are you afraid of tacos?"

Stella needed a scratching post. Maybe the couch.

"I'm starving, God! This is why I usually cook my own food! The thing is..."

Oh, right. She could turn off external audio receptors. How could she forget? Stella did just that. Isla Gray also needed urgent psychological help. She should've known. A quick glance at Rebecca's house using infrared sensors revealed that, no, she wasn't home yet. No food. Asking a stranger probably wouldn't do.

Stella sat on the floor.

Turning her ears back on, she asked Isla, "Do peach pie restaurants exist?"

"—and then when lightning struck my dog I... uh... maybe? Somewhere? Perhaps?"

It seemed very logical to Stella that if t*co restaurants existed, the same should apply to peach pies. If she could open her very own place, she could hire herself and have a job. 

It seemed too easy, though. Like Shigure had said, who would take care of the logistics?

...on second thought, maybe that was why jobs required people with experience.

...on third thought, she could just hire someone. "I think I'll open a peach pie restaurant," she said.

"Dope."

"What?"

"Ah. Sorry. Slang. It's a big thing in Jupiter right now. You know how sometimes scavengers find things that get really popular again? But, anyway, back to topic. I think it's dope. The only problem would be getting majority approval from the neighborhood 'cuz a business like that can get noisy, but like... you're right at the entrance anyway. Should be fine."

"Can restaurants sell more than one thing?" Asked Stella. "Peach pies and coffee?"

"Yeah, I don't see why not. Most coffee shops sell pastry as well. And popcorn, here, for some reason."

It sounded too good to be true. Too easy. Or could it be Shigure's cynicism rubbing off on her? Not that she'd ever see him again. It didn't matter. He could come back if he heard about the coffee, but if he didn't, it didn't matter. Really. Three days were three minutes and three years. More hellos would come soon. "Can I give anyone a job?"

"If you can afford it, ye—God DAMN it, two hours for a God DAMN empanada? What is happening to the world?" Angry tap tap tap.

"Could I give Shigure a job? Fuyukawa Shigurebob. I'm sorry. No Bob."

Tap tap tap tap.

"Isla Gray?"

Tap! Tap!!!

Stella tossed a cushion at him. He fell off the couch. "Miscalculated," Stella apologized, though she wasn't sure how exactly. How mass... oh, right. Different celestial bodies, different weight...

The very first thing Isla did upon landing was to grab his phone. Without bothering to stand up, he kept tapping. "Sorry, Stella, this is bigger than either of us. Get. Rid. Of. Delivery. Drones. Sent! Enjoy your four-star review. Can't be nice forever. Oh, yeah, you can give him a job. The hard thing will be to get them to loosen the leash on him."

"Them?"

"Yeah, you know."

"I don't know. Who is 'them'?"

"The government. Judicial system. Post-crime investigators. Thing is, if he didn't keep breaking the rules, he would've been free years ago." Isla spoke while he tapped. "But you lose nothing by asking. Would you like to ask?"

"Yes!"

Suddenly, the tapping ceased. "Aight, great. Let me see if his number is on his file... it is. Calling him right now."