Henrik Refsnes

I got nothing and I’m three sheets to the wind. Heat and alcohol don’t mix, and I’m having another meltdown. Not because of heat. So, I’m cooking. I don’t know how to cook, but I’m using purple tomatoes from hydroponics—and beer.

Would you like me to load a recipe?

I don’t need your recipes, Al. I’m good.

You don’t seem good. Your vitals—

What, are you a shrink now too? My dad was a musician, in a band. Trash metal. They sucked, but I was the number one fan, always up front, closest to the stage. Me and Milli… mom. The only thing worse than the music was the chili we ate at Moses Diner after the gigs. So, I’m cooking chili. It’ll suck, and it’s gonna be great.

Is that the music you are broadcasting on the open channel?

Some of it. I still have his guitar. Brought it as my personal item. I’ve always wanted to learn, be famous you know. Play his music. Never had the time… Well dad, you got the airwaves now, and there’s nobody here to kill the signal.

At least you know your creator, Lizzie. I don’t know mine. There was no one there.

I’m not sure that’s better. My folks died when I was 19. Car crash. Their van—a gas-guzzler. V8, can you believe that? I took the engine apart and reassembled it three times before I was 18. Knew every nut and bolt. Totaled by an old lady in a compact EV. 

Did the lady survive?

With a broken wrist… I would have been in the van too, if not for my loser boyfriend at the time.

Good thing she’s dead now. So is your boyfriend.

Fuck, Al. We really need to work on your interpersonal skills. But… thank you. Ok, this tastes terrible.

What does chili taste like?

I don’t know. Kinda like an explosion in the gut.

Like a core failure?

Yea, that’s Moses chili alright.

What did you do after the accident?

I wasn’t going to go on basic, so I joined the navy and never looked back. Served three years on a dozen ships, five years working the Luna shipyards, and two on Europa. Pretty rough climate. But hey, it beats Earth, and I’ll take the negative 160 over this—to be honest I don’t know what’s worse. Warm beer or this… chili.

You said you wanted it to suck?

I… I can’t do this, Al. Why did you have to wake me up? I couldn’t save my parents then. I can’t save the people on this ship now. I can’t.

Lizzie, you’re still recording.

I know.

Would you like me to turn it off?

Yes.