7. Lust versus Compatibility

 

One day before Ceoda Moore first meets with King Remipor 

After doing some selfish thinking, I felt kinda bad for hoping this restaurant would have less than five stars, but as I kept walking I finally saw what looks to be a possible five star restaurant. Picture a tree with the width of a mansion and the height of light house, it has multi coloured bulb lights hanging on the branches with a chimney sticking out in the middle, windows in the shape of circle bin lids, and a rustic sign on the tree with Kerra Marcie written in a downwards format, flashing in all sorts of bright colours. I opened the door on the tree, which was shaped like a lightning strike. The interior has booth seatings in a dark red padded cushion, rich brown mahogany floorboards and dark shaded brown brick walls. Oh, and the place was f*****g packed. I started walking towards the only available staff behind the bar. 

“Hi, I’m here to hand in my job application?” I said politely to the barmaid while eyeing and admiring the interior. The girl I handed the application to, just looked at my direction and started jogging away. After observing a whole family finishing their half started deserts, I decided that she was not coming back, so I slowly attempt to exit.

“Hold on,” moaned a women. I ignored it because the only woman in my life that shouts after me was my room mate. Plus, it was kinda cliche in terms of the timing. So I ignored it. Then I felt a hand tapping me weirdly on my elbow. I turned around to see a blonde haired girl with a well-designed face, which weirdly didn’t attract me at all.

“I’m Kerra Marcie, owner of this tree,” she said, while smiling formally. She looked way too young to be the owner but the tone of her voice made me think otherwise.

“I’m Quent,” I revealed. 

“If you don’t mind, we can put you in for an interview, right now?” suggested Kerra.

“Of course,” I replied softly, without actually wanting to. 

“Follow me.” Kerra wore a smile that either indicated she was laughing at me or she was genuinely happy with my overall vibe. I followed her to the back of the kitchen with those thoughts in my mind. She took us to the stock room. Sat down on a box, and gestured me to do the same. 

“I had an employee ask me last month, that if it’s okay for him to ask me something, and I fired him for it. Do you know what he did wrong?” 

“Being too formal?” I suggested, as I tried to cancel all sarcastic tones from my answer. 

“Close, he used a very common technique that consists of being polite on purpose. So that whatever he’s about to ask would potentially ease my reaction, due to his soft way of approachment.” I looked at her like she was crazy, and she instantly chipped in and said, “I work in a kitchen thats fast pace. I don’t have time to listen to anyone being nice. I need a blunt man who’s blunt on what he wants.” 

“I’ve got experience on bluntness,” I said, without thinking of the consequences of my reply. 

“I wouldn’t mind hiring you then, but only if you agree to some house rules.” 

I instinctively nodded her to continue. 

“You have to agree to work any hours asked of you, but of course you would be paid for overtime. You can’t be late, you must not be rude, and lastly you must wear whatever I tell you to. Okay?”

I nodded again, and started looking at my clothes, thinking if that last rule was pointed directly at my fashion sense.

“Okay good, job pays 21 an hour.” 

“Thanks for the job,” I said, while trying to express a pleased expression. Look, I just got a job without even bringing my CV. I wasn’t expecting to get this, which is why I found the courage to hand in the job application so easily. 

“Before we finish up, I need to know if your name is short for Quentin or your actual name, it’s for your name tag,” 

“My guardian says that if she named me Quentin, people would most likely nickname me Quent, so she thought it would be pointless to name me Quentin if the majority of people would just call me by a different name, but now people nickname me Q. So I guess her plan kind of backfired.”

Kerra looks sort of amused. “Quentin or Quent is a very old fashioned name, any meaning behind why you got named that?” I rolled up my left sleeve to reveal a birth mark on my elbow.

“I was named after my birth mark because it resembles the Quentin Star.”

“Well, I shall only call you Quent from now on, just to honour your guardians efforts. You’ll start right now. I’ll have someone explain the…” She jogged out on me after someone called for her.

Moments of boredom later, a male with medium long, curly black hair, about 6 foot tall came in and said, “Quent?”

I nodded slightly.

“Kerra told me to show you around, I’m Octlyn.” He said it subtlety without much expression. Though his left eye twitched amusement and his right eye marked curiously. Sometimes I think thrice before saying something, often this enables me to forget what I originally intended to say in the first place.

“You um, okay buddy?” asked Octlyn.

“Yeah,” I thought.

“Yo, Rude b*****d, you there?” asked Octlyn.

I kept my head unmoved and started to direct my eyes at him, “I am.” 

“You’ve to follow me mate,” he casually said. 

I nodded and he took me inside the main kitchen.

“This is where I work bud, that spectacle blonde over there is Stu or whatever the f**k you wanna call him.”

“Am not feeling creative today so I’ll just call him Stu for now,” Octlyn smiled at that.

“Oct-Lyn!” Someone shouted. I looked over to see a red haired female with the cutest walk and the most awkward looking expression I have seen today.

“What?” Octlyn puffed out.   

“Here, new orders from table six,” the red haired girl handed him the papers.

“Oh Hello,” the red haired girl laughed out.

I waved hello.

“I’m Rosita,” she said, smiling at my direction.

“I’m Quent,” I replied, while smiling at the floor. She crouched down and said, “I know the floors red, Quent, but it was me that was talking to you.” She giggled softly.

“You don’t leave much room for folks to reply back, do you?” asked Octlyn.

“And you don’t leave me with enough time to enjoy my own jokes.” She replied, then walked out the kitchen with a slight swaying movement on her lower buttocks.

“She’s a lesbian,” Stu teased. “I know this because Octlyn over there has tried asking her out once.” 

Smiling back was the only reply that seemed the easiest, so I smiled.

“This is your work station for now,” he pointed by the cutting boards.

“You're on Prep duty, Quent,” ordered Octlyn. 

“Okay,” I said.

“Oh wait, s**t,” said Octlyn.

“What is it?”

“We did all the prep this morning,” replied Octlyn.

“Oh.”  

“You could help me with the soup instead?” asked Octlyn. 

“Sure,” I said. He led me to the corner of the kitchen, where a five foot tall soup pot was stationed. 

“This is the soup pot, and the soup has already been cooked so all you need to do is stir it, just don't let it burn,” Octlyn instructed.

Then I was left alone, in the corner, with a big pot of Earthy soup, and every now and again Rosita the red head would ask for a bowl. I would pour some out for her, then transfer it to the kitchen counter were the waiters would retrieve it. Then I would walk back to the corner and continue stirring, this happened until the restaurant was closed. It’s the year 3015, so I’m a bit shocked that this high end restaurant doesn’t even have an automated soup stirrer. 

“Can everyone meet me at the office,” instructed the owner, Kerra Marcie. Everyone just sort of looked at me and started walking to her office. When I got there, it looked more like an apartment where people lived, it’s very cozy, lots of candles though. Candles can set calm vibes but there are way too many candles in here for any sort of calmness, too much to the point were you would think any sudden movement would cause the candles to tip over and set this whole damn tree on fire. 

“So the reason why I called everyone here, well not everyone, but everyone that will work in the same department as Quent, is because I want everyone to know everyone,” said Kerra. She does love the word everyone, or she could just be nervous? Being nervous usually involves a repetition of words, or maybe she just has a lack of creative vocabulary. Kerra sat all five of us in her private kitchen. I’m seated between Octlyn and Stutra, sitting across from us is red haired Rosita, and the girl that jogged away from me earlier at the bar. 

“First, everyone is going to introduce themselves,” again with the everyone’s, “and then I want us all to do an ice breaker challenge. Were we will state three things about ourselves, 1: Why do you work here. 2: Your interests outside work and 3: A wild card,” I can feel my hands moistened a bit, I can feel my eyelids twitching, and I can sense my stomach wobbling, these are obviously the symptoms of nervousness.  

“Why don’t we begin from the left, Octlyn you want to start us off,” suggested Kerra. 

He nodded. “My name is Octlyn.”

“And why do you work here?” Kerra asked.

“Logically, it would be for the pay check, though I haven’t received one lately, boss.”

“Tomorrow you will, and interests?”

“It’s pointless to tell you all because I rarely get the time to explore my interests, considering how our boss loves to keep us working overtime so much.” 

“And lastly, your wild card,” Kerra snapped out.

“I’ll rather show it to everyone because telling you all won’t do it justice.”

“Well, show us then,” teased Rosita.

“What I want to show is not showable right now.”  

“F*****g tease,” Rosita replied. 

“Okay, Quent, your next,” said Kerra cheerfully. 

Somehow Octlyn’s lack of seriousness made me feel less nervous. I feel as though Octlyn made himself out to be a joke so that other people, like myself, would feel less tense. Though his execution feels too forced.

“Names Quent, I work here because of my room mate, my interest is creators and my wild card is not yet invented.” I said it as fast as I could, everyone sort of seems taken back by my efforts of getting s**t done, that is until Kerra asked, “Can you tell us more?” 

F**k no I can’t tell you more, I just told you everything you asked for, but my instinct mannerism automatically made my mouth say, “What about?”

“Why do creators interest you so much?” Kerra asked politely.

“When I say that, I technically mean everyone because we’re all creators in a way.” 

“A tad pretentious, but I like it,” said the jogging girl.

I semi-smiled in reply. Wow, she’s not shy to voice her opinions. I guess her jogging away from me earlier had nothing to do with being nervous around me. 

“Okay, Stu, your turn,” said Kerra, while analysing the situation. I can tell this by her subtle eye movements. 

“Well, I’m Stu, thats my nickname but my real names Stutra. I work here because I need the money, and my interests are directed towards men. Realistically speaking, my wild card is pretty wild, but my common sense tells me that it won’t be wise to share it while my f*****g boss is in the room.”

“Rosita, the f*****g boss is telling you to go next,” said Kerra while sneering at Stu. 

“I’m Rosita, and I work here because my old granny of a sister, Kerra, asked me to. My interests points towards women and my wild card is breaking the law at least once a day, via the green pipe.” She winked at me and Octlyn. 

“That’s enough hippy banter, Rosita… Atalie, your turn,” said Kerra. I look across from me to study the jogging girls face, to which she is called Atalie. She has dark curly brown hair, the type that would get sampled for high-end hair extensions. Her face is simply refreshing to me. While I was thinking about her. Atalie spoke in a voice that indicated that she's confident, a bit shy, and a smudge of hidden humour in her tone. These are just rough estimates that I made up without actual mathematical proof. 

“Atalie is what people call me. I work here because my older sister, Kerra, needed us,” she looked at her other sister Rosita while saying that. “I’m officially interested in Quent and my wild card is also not yet invented.” 

She just semi quoted me, wow. 

“She’s f*****g blunt about what she wants,” Octlyn jested.

“I said I was interested in him, which is only natural to feel that way whenever we have a new co-worker. Plus, I didn’t say I was wet for him,” argued Atalie. I think my cheeks are blushing right now because I feel kinda sweaty around my outer face.

“Okay,” Kerra interrupted. “Todays shift ends now. Quent, work starts 3pm tomorrow.”  Surprisingly, this icebreaker thing that I thought would suck, ended up being one of the strongest reasons to why I replied, “I’ll be there.” As well as the girl sitting across from me, and this time she’s not jogging away. 

On my way out I got called into a room by none other than her, Atalie Marcie. She was alone sitting in the middle of the room and instantly pointed me to sit down.

"I hacked into Planet Broadcast last night, to watch Ceoda Moore’s five minute interview with Johniel Franklyn,” she suddenly confessed. 

"You can hack?" I should note that Earth has been an independent Planet ever since the departure of the 80%. Therefore has banned all Galactic TV networks from being viewed on Earth. This is meant for shielding outside influence. Earth's society has become cautious of the possibility on being seduced by the many luxuries of living in the future, and the only cost for that luxury is a decrease in health to our overall world. So it's much easier to shut out all social contacts from the Galaxy, but that doesn't mean that no one hasn’t heard of Ceoda Moore. 

"It was worth the risks. Ceoda f*****g Moore has made an announcement that will change humanity dramatically.” I never expected to see her this excited only after just meeting her. I just looked at Atalie and said the only thing she would expect.

"Can I watch it?"  

"I have it here on my solar phone,” she quickly said. I leaned in to watch. This is the first time I've seen any footage that's not filmed on Earth. So I watched it with full focus, no doubt she's watched it more than once. After we were done, I spoke up.

"Ceoda's idea of human evolution seems flawed, I feel like she's doing this mainly for herself." Atalie snorts at my opinion. 

"How?" she barked, not the reaction I'd hope.

"Geniuses are often lonely due to their rarity, and if you were smart enough to create something that enhances human lifespan. What result would you expect?"

"Well, Ceoda’s enabling people to live longer, and therefore gets the chance to study to become smarter without a time limit such as death.” 

"And when people do, then she won't feel as lonely."  

“She's still onto something.”

“I know,” I looked at Atalie with sorrow eyes, “but she’s creating a war that could last forever.”

“Because of immortality?” she urged out.

“Yes, everyone that uses Exporta will get the chance to study to become a genius. So my theory is that human brains withhold certain abilities, like learning something at an instant without much study. Our brains predicted what will happen if we were able to access the whole use of it." I paused. 

“Can you just explain it all in one go? Save me from asking why all the time,” she chuckled, her tone slightly playful. I smiled and continued. 

"If our brains don’t hold back on its full potential, and we gained our inner genius, then human kind would be fucked." 

"You and your mad theories," she said in a flirtatious tone, "but how so?"

"Imagine having a terrorist as a genius, or even a serial killer.”

"I get your point, but there’s good geniuses too.”

"Hence the never ending war, nobody can really out play each other because we’re all super smart. The brain knows this, so it withholds certain abilities, and if we study hard, it will act as a bypass. Thats why the more you study, the smarter you'll get. But note that not all brains have a defence system telling them of the destruction it will cause, thats why we have geniuses like Ceoda Moore.” She didn’t seem convinced.

“Religion has taught us that heaven and hell fight an endless war, the classic good versus evil. Why? Because they’re all immortalised, if they were mere mortals, the war would have ended by now.” I said.

"That's a grim way of thinking about it,” she retorted. 

"It's a natural way of living, that's why death exists. To stop s**t like that from happening. The Galaxy will always need new minds.” 

"Unfortunately we won't live long enough to check if your theory checks out, Exporta’s only exclusive to Planet Moore."

“For now,” I finished. Our rough disagreement felt weird, why did I just go on a mad rant?