World We Live In
"Tell me a story about your childhood," Seri asked suddenly.
"Why?"
"If you insist on going through such pain for my sake, then I wish to know who is defending me."
"There's not much to tell," Fate said. "I grew up here in Andema, got decent grades in school, got a certification from college to fabricate burgers, and did that ever since. Pay is decent, and it gives me something to entertain myself with."
"You're a horrible storyteller," laughed Seri. "Even I can do better than that."
"Then please, my lady, show the world your superiority," Fate replied with a grin. He wished he could do a flamboyant bow to sell the act, but his wrists and torso were still as restrained as ever.
"I will. Time to show you that the Vedavo Family excels at all things!" Seri said jokingly.
Her eyes wandered around the Flowing Steel room as she tried to think of a story.
"Let's see… Oh, I know. You see the scar on my left shoulder?" she asked.
Fate's eyes went to that area, finding scar tissue in the shape of a five-pointed star. "I do. That's a rather unique scar. How'd you get it?"
"I was around five years old," Seri started. "And my cousin of the same age was over for the day. As we were playing in the garden, his stomach rumbled.
"'I'm hungry,' he said. I told him that our chefs made wonderful food and delicious sweets just for the two of us when it was announced that he would be coming over.
"We left the garden and dashed through the house, screaming and laughing as kids do as we dodged around maids sweeping the floor and butlers carrying food to arrive at the kitchen.
"Now, I was under very strict rules to never enter the kitchen, especially when the cooks were inside. In my arrogance and ignorance, I broke that rule at the first opportunity, ushering my cousin inside as we started asking for sweets from the head chef.
"The man was so engrossed in his work that he didn't hear me until after I kicked him in the ankles to get his attention. Rude, but effective. I was hungry, and wasn't used to being ignored.
"Well, the kick startled him. Little did I know, he was making star-shaped cookies, my favorite shape at the time. You know the nice cookie cutters that both cut and cook the cookie?"
"I do. They have a safety feature, don't they? They turn off whenever they aren't held."
"The chef loved using older, more familiar models," Seri explained. "So when I kicked him, he jumped in fright and the cookie cutter slipped from his fingers.
"It landed where this scar is here, burning through my shirt and cooking my skin. After a stern scolding from my father and an apology to the chef, they fetched a doctor and healed my wound.
"Since they did so after the talking-to, the doctor was unable to heal it perfectly, leaving the mark you see now. 'A good way to remember to listen to your parents,' my father called it. After that, I did so with great zeal."
"Impressive storytelling," Fate said. "I'd applaud if my wrists weren't bound."
The heating device increased the temperature to the sound of a TICK, the timer reading twenty-five minutes. Human skin started to suffer first-degree burns at around 118 degrees. He had another hour or so before that point, but it would only get worse from there.
"What about you?" Seri asked. "I heard him mention a scar on your back."
"Oh, that. Construction accident."
"I thought you said you fabricated burgers?"
"I do. But back in my college years, I had a side gig helping to tear down buildings and put up new ones. Tripped on a piece of rubble and fell right in front of the X-Molisher."
"I'm familiar with the model. It was recalled for safety, wasn't it?"
"For good reason," Fate snorted. "Those things fired off at random times, even when they weren't plugged in. The company I worked for was contracted to test the prototype of the damn things, and one of those erratic activations tore into my back.
"Fractured my spine, flayed my skin, cracked my ribs. The only thing it didn't do was make it out of the other side. Which, you know, if it can't make it through my piddly human flesh, how the hell is it going to cut through Flowing Steel and stone?"
"Anyway, I didn't have insurance back then and my parents were piss-poor. The construction company only sprang for the cheapest solution they could, so they didn't even get an Embodiment to patch me up. It was all nanotech and biogel.
"So now I have a scar on my back that aches when it rains and reminds me not to work for construction anymore."
"Why even agree to test these machines, if they're so dangerous?" Seri asked.
"Money," Fate said simply. "That's always what it's about, isn't it? The injury happened because they wanted money, the scar stayed because they wanted to save money, and I was working there for money.
"Money makes the world go 'round, even if it means stepping on the little guy."
"What's the name of this company? It sounds like they should be investigated."
Fate chuckled. "I signed a non-disclosure agreement, and got paid a decent amount. If I make it out of here, saying their name will take me out of the fire and right back into the frying pan."
TICK.
"They won't care that you and I have our lives at risk, all they'll see is that I'm costing them money. Personally, I feel like I've been in debt long enough. I'm not ready to jump back in just yet."
Seri listened attentively, adeptly hiding the worry gnawing at her brain as she noticed Fate start to sweat from the heat.
"Money is evil, but a necessary one," she lamented, trying to distract Fate. "Many people are unwilling to work out of the goodness of their hearts. Money provides an incentive for them to do what they would otherwise shun or even scorn."
"Everything always feels like a necessary evil at some point, doesn't it?" Fate asked wryly. "But that's the world we live in."