The Eden Project Pt. 01 Ch. 08

Goodbye, lifeboat.

"I was surprised that Ronnie and Riley are an item."

"They aren't," said Hannah. "I explained that last night."

"Oh... yeah..." said Ellie, and this required that she grapple once more with the odd sexual dynamics of this... project.

Over the hum of the aircraft, Ellie could hear Riley in the flight deck chattering through checklists with air traffic control. Then the intercom kicked on.

"Lllllladies and ... ladiessss..." Riley was doing a vocal fry to imitate commercial airline pilots. "Forget that shit about Fyd Yeltsin being your captain, 'cuzzzzz on this aircraft, he ain't got shit on me. My name is Aurelia Martinez, yourrrrrr only authority on today's flight. Favors, tithes, and animal sacrifices WILL be accepted at the flight deck."

Ellie grinned; this girl was funny. She reminded her a little of Kathleen.

Kathleen, I'm sorry.

"Flight time today is approximately-exactlyyyy ONE hour fourty-four minutes... During which you are invited to enjoy our onboard refreshments innnnn the form of Hannah's mmmmmarvelous milkers."

Ellie shot Hannah a look, and Hannah grinned. She called over her shoulder, "FLY THE FUCKING PLANE, RILEY."

"Passengers are asked tooooo please respect the cabin announcements," Riley continued, not missing a beat (Ellie laughed), "Annnd fasten their seatbelts for departure. Today's cabin announcements have not been approved by the FAA, annnnnd snitches get stitchesssss."

Ellie fastened her seatbelt and lurched as the plane started moving. Hannah did the same, still smiling. "Riley's a ham."

"I can tell," said Ellie. "I like her."

"I'm tellin' ya," said Hannah, with a visit from her Texas drawl, "You're really gonna like these people."

Ellie offered a guarded smile. We'll see.

The plane arrived at the runway.

"Please keep all hands and feet inside the vehicle," said Riley over the intercom; "Failure to do so will result in a thorough ass-kicking for breaking my plane's windows."

Ellie laughed again. Hannah rolled her eyes. "She does this with every new recruit. The exact same routine."

"I do like it," said Ellie. "It makes me feel less... I don't know..."

"Like you're about to be probed by beings from another world?"

"...Honestly, yeah," said Ellie.

Hannah laughed. "We'll keep the probing limited to the blood test," she said, "if you're considering joining by the end of the tour. You okay with needles?"

Ellie shrugged. "As much as anyone else, I guess. I used to sell plasma in college."

When she was nineteen and unemployed, twice per week Ellie would read Stephen King books on a reclined chair whilst a centrifuge machine clicked and whirred next to her. It would pump blood out of her arm through a thick butterfly needle inserted painfully at her elbow. It would then separate Ellie's plasma and platelets from the thicker, redder part of her blood, and return the red blood cells to her arm in cycles of cold, thick injections.

This happened repeatedly for more than an hour while Ellie squeezed a stress ball, tasted pennies, and read Cujo. All of this in exchange for $50 gift cards as payment -- for her time, obviously. Buying and selling blood would be unethical.

Ellie would use the gift cards to buy groceries. Pete often told Ellie that if she'd just budget her money better, she wouldn't have to degrade herself in this way.

And so, Ellie was rather numb to the threat of needles and... well, jabs.

"Cleared for takeoff, November-zero-two-kilo," Ellie heard Riley's non-intercommed voice say from the flight deck, and she gazed out the window as the plane lined up on the runway.

The engines roared outside the fuselage. Ellie was pushed back in her seat as Riley walled the throttle, and was shortly watching Phoenix shrink beneath her. She popped her ears.