Ach, Joseph. How much longer will you sit there staring into your coffee, my friend?
Gooseman got under your skin, didn't he?
His PTS changed you more than him.
But you'll never admit it.
As if I don't understand.
As if I'd risk losing my best gentech and the only base commander I've ever gotten along with, not to mention one of the most promising BDCs we have, because of a little fussing and extra water.
When I go over to your table, all I'll catch is a glimpse of wariness followed by the inscrutability of a damned good officer.
"Today it's water."
Max keeps his voice low.
I'd have missed it if the door weren't open and I weren't working at the console next to it. It isn't the first warning I've caught him giving. I'm sure it won't be the last, either.
"How do gills work?" a childish, curious voice asks behind me.
I don't look up when I answer. "Oxygen from the water diffuses into veins under thin skin."
I catch a glimpse of a blond shock as he whizzes out of my lab.
I shake my head about Max and Joseph.
I'm as bad as they.
Ach: [German], sigh of regret, pity.
PTS: first personal training session [see: Change!]