Stanford Pines

[Ford gives an unhelpful shrug.]

Not unless I knew the kind of magic he was using. Setting up a barrier would require very different positioning than a spell to raise the dead, for instance. If only there were a way to tell what sort of spell he was trying to cast.

--ah! Wait a minute, of course there is!

[Ford grins and pulls a small scanner out of his pocket. It looks like the Ghostbusters props department got hold of a handheld barcode scanner.]

This can detect all kinds of energy, including most forms of magic. If Bill was doing a spell and there's any residue left in the area, this device will detect it.

From:

[ Jon looks at that monitor for a moment, frowning as he considers the possible ramifications.]

Will... that is, I may set that off, to be honest. Should I let you go out and do your readings on your own?

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[Ah.

He's been paired again.

Ford has a lot of very conflicted feelings about this.

But, when he gets the message, it's only after a little deliberation that he sends a reply -- On my way. -- and takes the stairs to level 4.

There's also a moment of hesitation outside her door. Then he steels himself and knocks, a rap that's not fast enough to be businesslike but not slow enough to sound resigned.

Here he goes again.]

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No, no, that won't be necessary. This device can distinguish a phenomenon's universe of origin. Unless he's doing magic from your world -- which is unlikely, if your theory about convergent evolution is correct -- it should be able to tell the difference between whatever magic Bill was working and any you're giving off.

From:

[She knows he's there even before he knocks, but she doesn't think anything of the hesitation or the relative speed of the knock. Instead, she goes to her door to open it and let him in.]

Thanks for coming so quickly. Come on in.

[She steps aside; the apartment is relatively large, and seems larger on account of the sparse furnishings. There's a very nice, modern kitchen that's gone mostly untouched, a proper dining table with nothing on it, and a living room with a very nice sectional couch, a few plush chairs, a large bright pink dog bed, and high-end TV with a game system and Blu-ray player. A laptop, tablet, and scattered notes cover the coffee table. A hallway leads off to the side. A life-sized pelican statue with obvious cracks in it stands guard near the door. The art on the walls is minimalist and generic, like something out of a classy hotel room. Large curtained windows opposite the television look out into space. She grabs two bottles of water from the fridge and brings them over to the living room; coffee seems like a bad idea after what she's read.]

I wanted to let you know that I read your file. And I'm wondering two things. [To start, anyway.] First, if there's anything that you think I should know, whether you think it's in the file or not; and second, if there's anything that you would like to know about me, in return.

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[ He takes a moment to look at the tea he's just put out, and frowns.]

...do you think we ought to take those readings right now, or should we finish up here?

[ Look, he's rather driven, but, he had gone to the trouble.]

From:

[Ford's mind is made up in a split second. He reaches into his coat and pulls out a thermos. He uncaps it, dumps the contents of the teapot inside, and closes it up.]

You can drink it on the way.

[He pushes the thermos into Jon's hands, gets to his feet, and heads for the door.]

That magic residue won't hang around in the air forever! Come on, there's not a moment to lose!

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[Ford sticks his hands in his pants pockets, tucking his coat behind his arms. He looks serious and thoughtful for a moment, then looks back up at Laura.]

Did the file cover my time on the Barge, or just up to my death?

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Just what happened prior to your arrival here. [She sits on the couch and makes a gesture of invitation.]

From:

[Ford sits down, on the other part if the sectional but not far from her. It's so he can face her more easily. He leans a hand on one knee and rests his forearm over the other. He looks tired.

He has to decide how he's going to deal with this.]

You should know that I...

[Ford hesitates, pulling himself together, then goes on.]

...I don't want to kill Bill Cipher.

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[The statement is a direct contradiction to the motivation behind the majority of the actual crimes outlined in the file. She sits back a bit, studying his posture, how it relates to his words, and decides that she believes him.]

What made you change your mind?

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[He looks up at Laura, and his expression is odd -- is that sadness? Resignation? Or just exhaustion?]

Don't get me wrong. Bill still poses a grave danger to the multiverse, and if he were to ever break free with all of his powers back, the results would be catastrophic. There are three versions of him alive that I'm aware of, and if I had either of the other two in my sights, I'd pull the trigger without hesitation.

But the one on this ship is different.

I've seen him change more in the last twelve months than I thought would happen in a literal billion years. On a Barge that was properly run, with a competent Admiral and tighter security, I think he'd stand a real chance at graduation.

You know. Eventually.

The point is, I don't want to destroy that. He might be the only Bill out there who does.

From:

[Something flickers across her face, too; something a little like confusion, but mostly like sympathy.]

He's still a menace. [But Ford may be right. She's been here longer than that, and when she really thinks about it, even she can admit there are some differences. Small. And subtle. But differences, all the same.] I didn't like him to begin with, and I like him even less after knowing what he did to you. I don't ... agree with the people who think he's harmless. Or misunderstood.

But I also don't agree with killing when there are other options, so I'm glad to hear that.

As for running the Barge, I think that's something that we need to take into our own hands. The Admiral isn't competent, but we've seen -- Steve Rogers's demotion is proof of what happens when we try to cut off the operation of the Barge at the head. A mutiny won't work. I believe our best shot at a competently run barge is to put a vote of no confidence in the Admiral and run what we can as we see fit, starting with the things that are easier to change at a ground level: like the gardens. Like setting up regular patrols on an irregular schedule. And being aware of the skills and knowledge bases of as many passengers as possible -- not just for our own safety but also so that we can fill in the gaps. We're practically already running day to day operations ourselves.

[She is dimly aware that she's getting fired up about this, but she doubts Ford will judge her for that. She does, however, rein it in a little bit.] And ... I digress. We were talking about what's happened in the past year.

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[ He actually just watches the tea go into the thermos before frowning a little and following after. He does make sure to lock the door on the way out.]

I would be very interested to know how long you think the, er, residue might maintain.

From:

[Ford gives a quiet laugh -- not a mean one, he's not laughing at her, but:]

I like your initiative. But there'll be plenty of time to talk about that later.

[He's glad to hear she takes Bill seriously, that she doesn't like him, isn't buddy-buddy movie nights with him, that she recognizes him for the danger he is. It gives Ford one less thing to worry about -- that Bill might try to manipulate his warden.]

For now...let's see. Are there any points you need clarified?

From:

It's not a clarification, exactly, but ... I'd like to hear more about your family, if there's anything you want to share. The file gives me a few facts, but not much else. And -- present day. Or at least the last that you remember. [She's not as interested in a deep dive into his past; she wants to focus on the good things, and getting back to his own dimension seemed like a significant enough success that it's something to explore a little more, even if it didn't last that long.]

From:

Eh. Who knows. But it sure isn't going to get any stronger!

Now, where exactly did you have this conversation?

From:

[In the space of a moment or two, the smile drops away from Ford's face. Weight settles back into Ford's posture, and his eyes fall. There's an attempt at bringing the smile back, at casual levity, but the underlying sadness is impossible to miss.]

You could have met them in the Bargeyard, if you wanted. I ran into Stan, Dipper, and Mabel, who had come ashore from another ship! I believed them to be from a splintered timeline very close to my own, one in which Stan died in the Arctic Ocean instead of me. I wish I'd been able to spend more time with them without being shut up in a building we had to convert into a safe house!

[He sighs, fondly -- but also soberly. Their absence is painful, and time hasn't made it easier.]

I miss them terribly.

Dipper and Mabel had just turned thirteen when Stan and I left. Mabel is a remarkable girl. She has one of the most magnetic personalities I've ever seen, and the fastest stitch-rate-per-minute this side of Purrcury 5. She's always making something. Very artistic. Incredibly creative use of stickers, things I wouldn't have thought of in a million years. She'd have an entire menagerie, if she could, but for now, she's got a pet pig by the name of Waddles that she's rarely seen without.

Dipper is her twin brother, and I admit, it took me a little longer to warm up to him. Mabel won me over immediately with her fearless, off-beat charm, but when I first met Dipper, he was a nervous, sweaty, stammering mess! Kind of like me the first time I spoke to Tesla. I thought he'd been scribbling over my journals with inane pre-teen drivel, so I didn't give his additions to them a second thought. But when I discovered he shared my interest in Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons, well -- we connected quickly after that. So much so that before the summer ended, I asked him to stay in Gravity Falls and become my apprentice! At first I thought he was convinced, but in the end, he decided to go back to California with his sister. I find I can't argue with the wisdom of his choice. He has a more level head on his shoulders than I ever did, and I'm sure I--

[There's a hitch in Ford's narrative there.]

...I'm sure I'll see him again.

[You know, eventually. Once he stops being dead and all. There's, you know, a difference between "I'll sail back next summer" and "I don't know if I'm going to be able to change myself in the right ways enough to come back to Earth before I disappear for good."]

From:

[It strikes her a little too hard, and a little too late, that Ford didn't actually choose to come aboard voluntarily. He didn't get to say goodbye, and he doesn't have the luxury of being able to go back whenever he wants. None of the inmates do. Laura's face falls, and she regrets -- just a little bit -- that she asked in this way, but she really doesn't know how else she could have done so. She files away the names, the facts, the way that Ford's expressions change, even if subtly, as he speaks.]

I'm sorry.

They sound ... [Something. Something. What are words?]

I had only known my sister for a few months when I came here originally. That didn't mean that I didn't miss and worry about her every single day that I was here. Must be something about thirteen-year-olds, right? [She offers a laugh, but there's not that much humor in it.]

You reconnected with Stan, too?

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Oh, yes. Not immediately, and not...easily, but -- yes, I did.

[That same sense of sad trying-to-make-the-best-of-it fondness is all over Ford's face and voice right now. But talking about Stan hurts worst, and Ford skirts the topic a little, even without meaning to.]

There's so much I wish I had known then, so many things I would have done differently. I don't think there's any point in my life where I wouldn't be tempted to create a paradox that would rip apart the very fabric of reality in order to keep myself from making a terrible mistake. ...ah, well. Probably wouldn't have listened, anyway. Even to myself!

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[And Laura doesn't push. The 'yes' is good enough for her.]

You know, I know someone that happened to. Several someones, actually. A whole team, plucked out of their own time and brought to the future -- my present -- so that they could see what their future selves had done to the world that they lived in, and make different choices when they went back. Their presence in my time caused a paradox that meant that not only could they never return, but some of those ... alternate choices ... resulted in reality fraying at the edges a little bit. There were demons.

They also did not listen to themselves. I ... don't think that anyone does. It's easy to think that your own present self is the real one, and the only one to be trusted with the choices that you have to make for yourself. I'm sure if I went back to my own past and told myself not to do some of the things that I did, I wouldn't listen to myself either. And it's ...

[A pause, as she considers.]

I used to be an assassin. And, briefly, a prostitute. In both cases, I didn't know ... that there were other options. I would have called my future self a liar.

From:

[ Jon follows after him before trotting forward to sit beside him.]

Down in the spa of all places. I'll show you.

From:

Ah. That would explain the music. And why I didn't recognize it. Haven't been down there much.

[He resents it, not entirely rationally, for, in his mind, replacing the library. Even now that the library is back, Ford has some sour feelings about it.]

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[ To be fair, if Jon was aware of that change, he would have been similarly upset. One of those rooms was useful, after all. So far, he's largely been unimpressed with the spa.]

I did a full circuit of the ship upon my arrival. I thought it... prudent.

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