Heart

It was just Pierrette and I now.

We were both in the ship orbiting over the moon. I had to help her in as she was in rough shape from hitting her head and slamming her body against the ship's hull. 

We only had one day left to make quota. 

"Thank you." I told Pierrette. She was sitting on the bottom-most bunk applying a cold pack over the nasty bump she had on her forehead.

She nodded and gave me a slight smile as she began to type something onto her keypad putting her icepack down. 

"Pierrette: We were dignified." 

Dignified; that word hung onto my vision even after the message decayed. 

I went over to the terminal and leaned against it, shifting my weight comfortably. Now that we were up here, I felt like I could ask her the questzions that've been burning holes in my mind.

"Hey... I've been meaning to ask. Out there, how do you know so much? Have you done this before?" I asked, carefully watching her to gauge her reaction. 

She didn't react much to me asking her the question, instead she let out a heavy sigh. The way she sighed was interesting, it sounded hollower than what a regular sigh would sound like. 

"Pierrette: Yes, I've done this before."

She looked up at me, her steely grey eyes were like a storm. There was a raw unfinished edge to them the way that they would slightly shake as she looked at me.

"Pierrette: This is my second contract; I was assigned to your group to help." 

"Pierrette: And before you question my methods, I didn't pick this. I was assigned, I had no choice or bargain in any of this and whoever I could've worked with." 

She was right on the money; I was going to rebuff her over her methods of 'helping'. With how she disappeared yesterday in the initial delve, I just thought she was a loner who wanted to do things her own way. 

"Why didn't they assign you to your old group? " I asked.

"Pierrette: They're all dead, I'm the only one left." 

"Ah, I'm sorry."

"Pierrette: It's fine, they we're idiots. The reason why I have this scar that you keep staring at is because of what they did." 

I felt my cheeks flush over getting caught. The way the scar mangled over the side of her face felt magnetic, my eyes kept drifting over its snaking grooves. 

"What did they do?" 

"Pierrette: Nothing, they did nothing; that's what caused this." 

She ran her finger over the scar as she closed her eyes- as if reliving the moment of it happening. 

"Pierrette: You haven't seen it, but I was attacked by this disgusting insect known as a snare flea." 

Snare. Flea. Hearing those words combined made my skin crawl.

"Pierrette: It's an ambush predator, it waits for unsuspecting fools to carelessly meander through the bowels of the facilities. I was one such fool then."

"Pierrette: It began constricting itself over my face, digging it's filthy body into my helmet."

"Pierrette: My crewmates, they left me. They saw the bug fall onto my helmet and ran away that very instant. I couldn't tell them anything as I couldn't see my keypad; I couldn't even curse or beg them for help." 

"Pierrette: By sheer luck, I had managed to run back to the entrance; the damned thing fell and died as soon as I exposed it to the moon's harsh elements." 

"How did you react to your crewmates once you got back to them?" 

"Pierrette: I didn't, they had disappeared on that moon; the ship was empty when I returned." 

I wonder how I would've felt if I had come back to the ship all alone. 

"I'm sorry."

"Pierrette: Don't be."

An awkward air fell between us as our conversation died down. 

"What's the plan now? We have a day left to make quota." I asked, slicing through the tenseness. 

"We must go to the next moon, what else is there to say?"

"Must? With half of our crew dead shouldn't we get in contact with the company?"

Pierrette scoffed, the way she did made it sound like a hiss. 

"Pierrette: Do you think they would care? The contract was clear if you remember reading it. We must fulfill quota, or else."

"Or else what? We're fired? Who cares, I'd rather be in debt than be dead."

"Pierrette: You would end up dead either way."

Reading that made my blood run cold.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Pierrette: It means, they will kill you. And I know for a fact."

"For a fact?"

"Yes, I've known many people who've signed up for this- and many of them don't come back. Entire crews would disappear, all swept under the rug under the pretense of 'relocation'." 

I tried wrapping my head around what she was telling me, but it just made me feel nauseous the harder I thought of it.

"Kill me? For failing? That's ridiculous, that's a violation of my human rights! Everyone on 12-Freedom will know about this!" 

"Pierrette: Do you think they care if one person reveals the morbid truth? Let me tell you what would happen."

Pierrette got up from her cot and stood before me.

"Pierrette: Their stock would dip, they would let go of maybe twenty or so interns, and then- within a handful of months or so, they would return to normal." 

"That's-"

Pierrette slapped my hands out of the air. 

"Pierrette: Think, George. What are we? Why are we out here collecting junk for them? What is our value? Have you already forgotten what I've told you?" 

Pierrette made her hand into a loose fist, and feigned sand slipping out of her palm. 

"We're dirt." I dejectedly admitted.

"Pierrette: Yes, that we are."

"Pierrette: Dirt can be replaced, there will always be the next fool to carry the shovel; ready to bury the one who came before them as long as it pays."

She was right.

There was only one thing left to do.

We must go to the final moon.