Re: dock: atticus and mal
Mal was still thinking about the ghosts in the facility - isolated, quiet, separate from the world they'd known, their loved ones all left behind and dead now too. "Have you ever seen the ghosts yourself? The dead pilot and the crew." It was a funny thing to entertain. If ghosts walked on a little lake island in Repose, where else did they walk? He smiled a little down into the puzzle when Atticus accused him of lying. "I'm a bastion of truth," he murmured, almost to himself; a quote, something remembered.
"Is it easy to get deliveries?" The island did seem far, even for the intrepid Amazon delivery service. "Oh," he said, "There's a story to go with everything. I expect you have a story about why you live on an island." He blinked black eyes into the gentle lap of the lake's little waves on the shore. "I like to fix things. I have a talent, and I haven't always used it ethically. I needed the money. I knew I could do a little good." He grasped the puzzle. "It felt like the right path forward."
After applying pressure the puzzle, a small piece came away. It was just as metallic and smooth as the rest, but as he held it in his hand, it pulled away toward the puzzle. "Ah. A magnet." He held it up. "Who's Janus? If he makes things like this, I'd like to meet him." He finally focused on Atticus properly again and caught that grin. He finally returned it properly, with something more than a half-moon smile this time. "I like to fix things," he said again.