Kaiju Preservation Society(88)

Then we went back to work. Aparna to the bio lab, Kahurangi to the chem lab, Niamh to physics, and Satie to—well, in the short term, to doing not a whole lot, because getting a whole helicopter back to Kaiju Earth was an actual project, but then, back to flying.

I went back to lifting things.

MacDonald had offered me Tom’s job on a temporary basis, with an eye toward making it permanent. I passed. I didn’t feel right slipping into his place, and also, I had already forced Val to do a two-person job by herself for several weeks. And anyway, I liked my job. Lifting things was surprisingly good for my brain.

So I kept doing it, without undue drama, for the rest of the tour.

Which, frankly, felt odd. After such a dramatic start to our tour, everything else after we came back to Tanaka Base felt like an anticlimax. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop,” Niamh said, and we all agreed with them.

But the shoe stayed up. Until the day, in March, when we stood in aloha shirts, drinks in hand, to welcome Blue Team back to Tanaka Base, and for them to see us off.

As was custom, I left a welcoming gift for whichever member of Blue Team was taking over my room, and a note.

Dear whomever:

If it’s your first time here, welcome. If it’s more than your first time here, welcome back. When I arrived six months and forever ago, I was given a gift of a plant. I am giving you the same gift. It’s larger than when I got it, and has been repotted. You may need to repot it again before you gift it onward.

This plant was given to me by someone who was leaving this world behind for good. She said that it was time for her to go back to the real world. I understand what she meant—this world is so strange!—but I think it’s just as real as the other one. This plant is real. The people here are real. The bonds and friendships we make here are real, too. It’s unreal how real this world is and can be.

This plant is yours, but I will be back. And when I come back, I hope I get to meet you, and have a meal with you, and sing karaoke with you, and talk about plants, and perhaps become friends. I can’t wait to meet you.

Until then—be kind to our plant.

Jamie Gray

Aparna, Kahurangi, Niamh, and I said goodbye at BMI, which was not quite as deserted as it had been when we left. Vaccines had started to roll out and people, maybe too optimistically, had started to travel again. Aparna was heading to Los Angeles and to family there. Kahurangi was heading to New Zealand and Niamh to Ireland, where both faced a couple of weeks of isolation before seeing friends and family.

“I’m looking forward to that,” Niamh had said. “Two weeks of sleeping, eating room service, and screaming at the news.” We all hugged and promised to stay in contact through the KPS Gold Team Discord channel.

The last KPS person I saw before I headed off was Brynn MacDonald, who waved to me and told me to keep a lookout for a new assistant for her. “We can’t replace Tom,” she said. “But I still need someone to do that job.” I promised I would.

Then I was back home, in my terrible East Village apartment, which actually wasn’t as terrible as I remembered it, with Brent and Laertes.

“We missed you,” Brent said.

“I liked the quiet,” Laertes yelled, from the other room, where he was playing a video game.

“Have you even moved from that room since I’ve been gone?” I yelled back.

“It’s called quarantine, Jamie, maybe you should look into it.”

“He has left the room,” Brent assured me.

“I poop occasionally,” Laertes said.

“I’ve missed this,” I said, sincerely.

Brent grinned. “Well, good,” he said. “We’ve ordered Thai, and it’ll be here soon. And in the meantime, I can catch you up on the last six months.”

“Do I really want to know?” I asked.

Brent moved his hand in a seesaw fashion.

There was a knock on the door.

“That was quick,” Brent said, and started to get up.

I motioned him back down. “I’ll get it,” I said. “I have money for a cash tip.”

“Lord our poverty over us, moneybags,” Laertes yelled.

“I love you, too,” I said, put my mask back on, and went to answer the door.

“Pad thai, tom kha gai soup, and oh my god it’s Jamie Gray,” said the delivery person at the door.

I looked more closely. “Qanisha Williams?” I said.

“Oh my god, Jamie,” Qanisha said. She set down the food and reached out a hand to me, then remembered that it was still infectious times and drew back. “I’m so sorry. Last March. When you were fired. I didn’t tell you. I should have warned you. But I didn’t. I was afraid. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right,” I said. “I know what happened. About what Rob Sanders did. That one-dollar bet he made you take.”

“He made me pay him that dollar, too,” Qanisha said. “Can you believe it?”

“I can,” I assured her.

“Did you hear? About Rob?”

“I did.”

“They think he was eaten by wolves,” Qanisha said. “How weird is that?”

“It could have been weirder,” I suggested.

“I don’t know how.”

“How are you doing anyway, Qanisha?” I asked.