Page 15 of Fathom

I set the books down on one of the benches, slipped off Eun's black jacket, and hung it up on one of the hooks.

Then I lifted the other bench and carried it to the sink. I climbed up, rolled up my sleeves, and began to wash the dishes. I'd washed dishes when I first moved to Paris, too, as it was the first job I could find that would accept my poor French. I got better at speaking there and eventually moved on to jobs that matched my skill set, but it was the dishwashing job that had saved me.

It was something familiar to grab onto, and I needed to do the work just as much as the lizard needed someone to help with the rush.

The lizard said something to me.

“Food,” I replied in the language of the workbooks, which sat rough in the back of my throat. “Thank you, food.”

As much as I appreciated being taken care of, it felt good to do something to balance things out. I firmly believed that every being deserved food and safety without ever having to give back, especially in a world of food abundance brought about by technological advancement. But even so, I didn't know how this place operated, so it was important to make sure that I earned my keep where I could. Being useful made me feel safer in this madhouse of a situation.

The lizard said something else I didn't understand and continued cooking.

I worked my way through the dishes, drying them with a towel and stacking them on one side of the sink. I couldn't speak, but I could work. The lizard grabbed several from the clean pile before I had finished the rest, loading them up with soup or other food before taking them out to the patrons. When Eun returned, pushing open the beaded curtain as his eyes darted around the space, he smiled when he spotted me, the tension in his shoulders easing as his glowing tail swayed, reaching out towards me.

"Thank you, Leija," he said, his voice rumbling softly as he came over to the sink and took the dish I'd just finished washing, using the towel to dry it. We worked side by side until they were all gone, and Eun went back to working the front of the house, gathering orders, taking food out, and bussing. I returned to my books, sitting on the floor near the coats, staying out of the way of both Eun and the lizard's work without having to be out in the noise of the evening rush.

I focused on the work.

The sink didn't pile up again while Eun was there working as both a server and a dishwasher. When he went to wash them, I joined him, drying as he scrubbed. Finally, there were no more dishes and no more patrons, and my mind was swirling with vocabulary I couldn't hold onto, and Eun was saying something to me. I dried off my hands and climbed down off the bench. He took it from me before I could lift it, putting it back over by the hooks and my pile of books. He took off his uniform and hung it up on the hooks, and the lizard came out of a back room.

He handed Eun an envelope, and then handed one to me as well.

I opened it to see several pieces of colorful paper with symbols on it.

Was it money?

Good.

I wasn't so self-effacing that I considered meals an even trade for the labor I'd done. There was no such thing as unskilled labor, not in the way that the predatory robber class liked to put it. Each and every job in the world required time and effort, and with that time and effort came skill in the specific task. If the business required the labor to function, that labor was worthy of equal recompense. Billionaires became billionaires by slapping labels of unskilled or unworthy on those whose labor they preyed upon. They made even more by changing the laws or getting into politics, where they could gobble down the money that the masses had accumulated for the sole purpose of paying for social structures designed to aid everyone.

Even though I couldn't ask for it or negotiate, the fact that the lizard paid me in more than just food without me asking was a good sign.

It was also a good sign that the first few pages of the book included polite words, woven into various scenes between characters. There was a picture of a smaller, fluffy-looking creature moving to the side to let one of the large mud elephant aliens walk by on a sidewalk, with the larger elephant saying words of appreciation. I hadn't noticed them doing that outside, but it was an indicator that the educational books here attempted to teach some form of kindness and socially polite appreciation in their material.

“Thank you,” I said in their language.

The lizard picked up the stack of books and put them in a bag before handing the entire thing to Eun. I grabbed my borrowed coat and followed Eun out the door onto the street, and we began to walk. My body ached. We went a different way than before, down a street with a bunch of food vendors. Eunstopped at one, using some of the money from his envelope to buy two succulent-looking sticks of something.

He handed it to me, and it smelled amazing.

I bit into the warm, sticky treat and tasted sweet, savory, and something I didn’t have a word for, but it was delicious. I only made it halfway through before I was full. When I offered the rest to Eun, he took it without hesitation, sharp teeth slicing through the gooey center in a single, efficient bite. So far, none of the food had caused me any stomach trouble. I knew that was lucky, but I didn't have much of a choice at this point but to try things and hope they worked out. If something bothered me, I wouldn't eat it again and stick to the things that worked. Hopefully, nothing would kill me or give me parasites, but I didn't have much of a choice at the moment but to eat what I was given.

We walked side by side as he pointed out things around us, naming them aloud. I repeated them, clumsy at first, then steadier. Not everything had a clear meaning, so I associated them in my mind with names from my own world. The round red fruits were apples. The floating vehicles were just cars.

By the time we reached the apartment building, my legs ached with every step.

But Eun didn’t enter the door code.

Instead, he pointed at me, then the keypad, repeating the motion until I understood. I pulled the crumpled piece of paper from my pocket and keyed in the numbers. The pad gave an angry beep. I flinched, frustration welling in me. My mind was exhausted from a day spent working for an unknown number of hours; I was messing up. Eun only murmured something and pointed to a small, round button at the bottom.

Another similarity to Earth gave me something to cling to. Finicky keypads that required an enter button to function.

I tried again. This time, I pressed the button after the code. A softer tone chimed, followed by a click. Success. Eun pulled the door open, and we climbed the stairs together.

By the time we reached the apartment, I was dead on my feet, which hurt in a normal way, instead of a sliced-to-ribbons way.

I used the bathroom, pausing in front of the mirror and wishing for simple things, like a hairbrush. Or a toothbrush. I’d figure that out tomorrow.