Just Another Late Night at Idealist HQ
Scientist fighting for synth rights in the future grapples with doubt
Content warning1
Onrimi Nil jolted awake when her forehead hit the nail she'd fixed to her desk to keep her from nodding off.
Rubbing her forehead, she blinked rapidly to dispel the haze that had settled over her thoughts… how long ago? The time display on her holopad beckoned but Onrimi resisted. She knew it was 'why are you still in the fucking office' o'clock even without looking.
One mental command to her implant delivered the adrenaline shock to the system she desperately needed. The forms on her digital desktop were due in two hours and wouldn't submit themselves. "Attention. Fluid intake and body movement suggested," the implant added for good measure.
Grumbling, Onrimi rolled her chair over to the water dispenser and drained the first glass in one go. Armed with the second, she got back to work.
She attacked the first form with a vengeance, vowing to get through the stack as quickly as possible. Briefly, her gaze lingered on the lonely icon in the right bottom corner of her workspace: a journal article on her lab's latest experiment with nanomaterials in vacuum. It had been sitting in that corner, unopened for… a timespan Onrimi didn't care to define any further than 'too long'. Her department would keep spearheading the cutting edge of synth science, empowering synthetic beings... without her. Now her job was shielding and protecting her colleagues so they could focus.
"I hope you knew this when you applied," Emma had said during the office handover, "but just in case: From today on, you’re not a scientist anymore. You're an executive."
Onrimi had waved a hand over the spacious desk. "Is that why you look so happy to be handing all this over to me?"
Emma had smiled. "So you know. Good."
Knowing hadn't stopped her from tragically underestimating the workload.
The next time Onrimi's forehead hit the nail, she pushed to her feet and started pacing around the desk. It was so large it actually took her ten steps to go all the way round. The rhythm was strangely hypnotising and floated her through the last few forms.
Her finger shook a little as she hit the submit button. Just sleep deprivation, she told herself.
After a mighty exhale, she pinged Emma. Submitted paperwork. Legal on standby, will forward immediately. Last chance to get cold feet is officially over. Then she also pinged Nio in legal, in case his alarm hadn't gone off. Better safe than sorry.
She counted to ten, barely breathing, but neither responded.
Suddenly too hyper to sleep, she opened her messages and tapped on a name she hadn't read in months. It's official. We're kicking CoGS in the balls & going independent. You in?
Regret came about two seconds after hitting Send. Onrimi flopped into her chair and laid her head on the desk, narrowly avoiding the nail.
Her holopad pinged with a reply. Groaning, she checked but it wasn't Emma or Nio as she'd hoped.
Be honest. Do you want a theoretical physicist or just confirmation that what you're doing is the right thing?
Onrimi winced. As always, her old colleague had hit the (proverbial, not literal) nail on the head. The latter, if you can spare it.
Again, the reply came almost instantly--one night owl to another. Looks to me like you're blazing a trail here. Even with that abandoned station--what a score, btw--, you're basically tearing down one organization and building a new one. You'll work longer and harder than ever before. Since you're an idealist, it'll be worth it though. For the likes of you, failure is not an option. If all you can see is success, it WILL be yours eventually. All you have to do is keep going.
How can you be so sure? Onrimi replied, hating herself for the doubts, the vulnerability. This wasn't like her. With anyone else, she would've left it and gone to bed.
As a theoretician, I know how the universe works. Trust me and go to bed, Nil.
You were always too modest, Sungull. Thx.
She went to bed. Ashe was right: The fight for synth rights and the bureaucratic nightmare that was independence from the fucking Galactic Confederation could wait until tomorrow.
Swearing