“Will we be going to the double-X?” Hugo asked. That was the only site which was above the Singing Road. Eli paused. The entire room was still. Beefcake had even stopped leaning towards Splint and was now staring at him. Eli was almost certain that if he said that they were going to the Double-X, the crew would kill him on the spot. His next sentence would mean the difference between wrapping up the presentation, and Dedschik’s steel foot going through his skull. 

“That’s why I have the telescope and the mounting. You don’t have to physically be somewhere to see what’s so interesting about it... Besides, it’s only an airplane wreck. And there’s no shortage of those.” Eli said to Hugo’s relief. But some of the tension remained.

“What are you going to do?” Beefcake asked the question of the hour.

“This is a research expedition. Research.” Eli said. It was worth a shot.

“What kind of research?” Hugo was leaning forward again.

“He needs us for the blood-sacrifice.” Beefcake quipped.

“Goddamn it, Beefcake— I was going to make that joke!” Cone said. A few people chuckled, and the good feeling held for a whole five seconds before they realized that Eli hadn’t said anything, or even defended that there wouldn’t be blood-sacrifice. Once again, he could feel Dedschik’s boot on his neck while Beefcake and… probably Hugo held him down. 

“I’m going to do exactly what I’ve done for all 14 expeditions that I’ve led…” Eli said, calmly, but enthusiastic. What good was this job if he didn’t enjoy it?

“I’m going to investigate nearby points of interest, conduct interviews with witnesses and locals, and do my best to create a factual record of any phenomena that we encounter.” He said, smiling at the end.

“While doing my best not to risk the health and safety of my crew.” He added. 

“Have you ever lost any of your crew to a ‘phenomena?” Varly asked. Eli would have bet one of his scotch bottles that Varly didn’t know what that word meant. 

“I had two people go overboard during a storm on the Delta, we lost a woman to a rockslide around the Catskills, and six folks accidentally poisoned themselves after drinking from a bad spring.” Those could have been avoided; he couldn’t say the same for most of the deaths. 

“Have you ever done an expedition like this?” Asked D.Q. 

“Like ‘this?’ There’s a lot of different answers to that. Have I ever led an expedition in this region? Not quite. Most of my work is in the East, but I’ve come out to the Belt a few times before. This is the furthest North I’ve ever been. Have I ever had a team this large? Technically, no. I piggybacked on a convoy of ruin-strippers as they were heading towards a new site, and there were over seventy of them. Normally, my group is only five strong. And this is the first time I’ve worked on any kind of frost-ship… let’s see… Am I doing anything special with this expedition that I wouldn’t normally do?... I would say that I’m not usually this formal with the crew, doing introductions and everything… Then again, each assignment is different. So…” What did the crew need to hear from this? Eli took a deep breath.

“I am well aware that many of you are nervous about our destination… The Singing Road… You have a good reason to be scared. As did all of the other crews that I have worked with over the years. My expeditions go to places that are shrouded in mystery and bad omens. But to answer Varly’s earlier question— No, I have never lost a crew-member to a ‘phenomena’. The same way that…” Now he found himself staring at the vent in the back of the meeting-room.

“You know why Pontius isn’t with us right now? Because he’s our pilot— he’s trained in how to operate a vessel like this, and we all trust him to do so. We’re putting our lives in that guy’s sweaty hands.”

“And we’re doing the same with your soft ones.” Hugo answered.

“Basically. Because you know I’m a professional. Pontius pilots, Warra makes sure we don’t get lost, Cone organizes shipping, D.Q. puts holes in things, Beefcake… makes jokes, and I research ‘phenomena’. So please trust me when I tell you that I’m damn good at it, and that if you do as I say, and help me do my research, we’ll all be home and dry on the Rusted Horizon before we know it. Deal?”

Hugo, the one who had proven to be the one who needed the most convincing, leaned back and crossed his legs. He was an old and well seasoned man, and the other four crew-members would follow his lead.

“You got a deal, Formers.” He said. Was saying the name of Eli’s order supposed to be a slight or something?

D.Q. and Cone shrugged, he knew that they had been onboard since he had first talked with them. Meanwhile, Warra was staring at him from the back of the pipe as if she knew every lie that he had told during that speech. He was honestly proud of doing an oration like that. And he was also confident that Pontius would do whatever Cone said, so he wasn’t a concern. 

Things were still going very well. Why should he be surprised about this? He had been planning this mission for several months now. Even though most of that time had gone to independent research, he had still been meticulous with the recruitments. This was a good group: diverse but universally suspicious of what had brought them together. And they seemed to get along well enough, except for the guide. He could have done a better job on restraining his own gallows humor, and maybe being less condescending. Then again, he still had to act like a Formers, even if it meant being a dick. He didn’t want to keep chatting around with everyone else like he was one of them. Sure, he’d make good on his promise for warm tea, and let them spin around in those chairs some more. Then he’d shoo them off and start re-reading some materials. But he was satisfied; these people would hold together until things got really intense.