Metal Eyes and Metal Ears

[FOOTSTEPS. CALMING LYRE MUSIC PLAYS IN THE BACKGROUND]

[DOOR UNLOCKS]

TALESPINNER:

Hello? It’s me again. I, uh, brought you some food. Didn’t know whether you had any dietary preferences, so I just got you some fruit for now.

[PLATE CLINKS]

TALESPINNER:

Oh? You’re allergic? My mistake; won’t let it happen again. [BEAT] So, did you like the uh, the… tale… I told you? Y-you did? I mean—that’s good, I suppose. You probably don’t hear others that much in here. Don’t know if anyone else’s visited you.

TALESPINNER:

Oh——you want to hear more? I——well! This is a surprise! I’d say this isn’t the only time I’ve heard anyone actually ask me for a story, but… it is. You’re the first. …You know, I’m actually not sure if I should now. People tend to get… upset when I tell them things. Don’t really want to tempt fate and lose you too. [BEAT] Sorry, I’m babbling again, aren’t I? Just not used to the company, I guess. Now, where were we…?

[THE TALESPINNER CLEARS HER THROAT]

Sing, o Muses, of the story of the determined Argonaut Atalanta, whose former captive and current teammate has become a newfound source of tension; all while the clock ticks ever closer to her fate. Muses great, grant me the ability to sing to you the hymn of the man with Metal Eyes and Metal Ears.

[LYRE MUSIC ENDS]

ECHO:

User Medea, are you sure you want to proceed with this action? Among your possessions I can identify: nightshade, arsenic, goat milk, axylimine, and——

MEDEA:

Look, I know what I’m doing, okay? You don’t need to worry about it. It’s not a big deal.

ATALANTA:

You have axylimine?! Where did you even get that- what are you doing?

MEDEA:

Pharmaka.

ATALANTA:

Fine. What type of “pharmaka”, then?!

MEDEA:

[BOTTLES CLINK] Look. I don’t need to tell you every little thing I do. I’m your co-pilot now, not your prisoner.

ATALANTA:

Now hold on, when did we decide on co-pilot? Echo and I are co-pilots. We like, fly the ship.

MEDEA:

Like a week ago? Literally the first day I was on board, I distinctly remember you calling me your “co-captain”.

ATALANTA:

That’s different. Plus, you revoked your co-captain privilege when you nearly crashed the damn thing in Thessaly!

MEDEA:

O-okay, look, we really needed to get out of there, and— it wasn’t that bad.

ATALANTA:

I felt my kidneys in my ribcage!!

MEDEA:

Okay, that sounds like a you problem. And it’s not my fault you let me fly the ship without even giving me the manuals.

ATALANTA:

It’s not about whether or not you can—

ECHO:

You are now entering the Thracian System. Prepare to disembark.

MEDEA:

I’ll be in my room.

[THE DOOR OPENS, ATALANTA GROANS IN FRUSTRATION]

ATALANTA (NARRATION):

It’s been like this every day since she… stopped being mad about getting kidnapped? Crikey, I don’t even know. If I can barely keep my cool a few days into a partnership, how much longer could it possibly last? And I really do need this to last. My whole bloody world depends on it. [SIGH] Until a few days ago, I was the last remaining crew member aboard the Argo. And it’s… it’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone other than Echo for more than a day or two. [LAUGHS] Y’know something? I think it’s starting to show a little.

ECHO:

User Atalanta.

ATALANTA:

I’m… fine, Echo. Really, I am. I just… don’t understand how to get through to her sometimes.

ECHO:

Inter-crew fighting is not productive for maintaining healthy interpersonal relationships. It is recommended that you cease this course of action.

ATALANTA:

I’m trying, okay? We just keep… rubbing up against each other. Constantly. I want her on my side, but if she leaves…

ECHO:

It is my job to do whatever you require of me. If you have a request, you may say so.

ATALANTA:

Thanks, but you’re not the one who refuses to help out.

[BEAT. THEN A DING]

ECHO:

User Atalanta, it is time for you to take your pain medication.

ATALANTA:

And what if I did already?

ECHO:

As a crew member aboard the Argo, your health and safety are always a priority. It is time for you to take your pain medication.

ATALANTA:

Yeah, yeah, I’ll take it now.

[CABINET OPENS. ATALANTA FILLS A GLASS WITH WATER]

ATALANTA:

We’ll need to stop off for some more soon, my supply’s running low.

ECHO:

Reminder: “pick up medication” has been set.

ATALANTA:

Thanks, Echo. Love you.

ECHO:

Thank you, user Atalanta.

ATALANTA (NARRATOR):

You know, when Medea first joined us, I was rapt. I just had to prove to her that her choice had been the right one. She’d figure that out by mid-morning on day one. We’d have some brekky, do some plotting, and when we’d go to bed at the end of the day we’d be thick as FLCC-y thieves! …I learned pretty quickly that wasn’t going to work out.

[DOOR OPENS]

ATALANTA:

Come on, now, love! First full day on board! Up and at ‘em!

MEDEA:

[GROANS, GROGGILY] Is there an emergency?

ATALANTA:

Well, no, but——

MEDEA:

[YAWN] Good. Then tell ECHO not to wake me up this early again——or, if you want to make it easier on her, not at all. I’m going back to bed.

ATALANTA:

No you’re not! Uh, here, I made you breakfast.

MEDEA:

…Oh.

[CRUNCH AS MEDEA BITES INTO A SLICE OF TOAST]

MEDEA:

[MOUTH FULL] I think it’s burnt.

ATALANTA:

Whaaaat. No, it’s not.

MEDEA:

Yes, it is.

ATALANTA:

Is not.

MEDEA:

Yes, it- just look at it, what do you call this?

ATALANTA:

That’s not burnt! It’s just… well-done.

MEDEA:

I can’t believe you.

ECHO:

User Atalanta. Now searching the term: “how to make toast”.

ATALANTA:

Oh, everyone’s a critic now! Fine, let’s see you make breakfast, if I’m doing such a bad job of it.

MEDEA:

You know what? Fine. I will.

[DOOR OPENS]

MEDEA:

Now let’s see, where’s the… [PAUSE] Atalanta.

ATALANTA:

…Yes?

MEDEA:

Did you. Try to make toast. By toasting this piece of bread directly on the stove.

ATALANTA:

Well, you like crunchy food, right?

MEDEA:

Not burnt, no.

ATALANTA:

It’s not- Okay! Fine, just- take mine then! Right! So anyways. Down to business. I’ve been thinking about how best to come up with a plan. Let’s start with what we know.

MEDEA:

That’s why you woke me up? Atalanta, I’m not going to talk shop with you at- What time even is it?

ECHO:

It is 07:00 hours Galaxy Standard Time, 21:00 hours Crete Standard Time, 13:00 hours Trojan—

MEDEA:

That’s enough, Echo!

ATALANTA:

Medea—

MEDEA:

What? Done nattering at me?

ATALANTA:

You know, we are a team. If you could maybe help me suss this out a little, that’d be really appreciated.

MEDEA:

Alright, then. Let’s hear the plan.

[ATALANTA STAMMERS]

MEDEA:

Well? I’m waiting.

ATALANTA:

Uh… I found you.

MEDEA:

…And?

ATALANTA:

Well, I was kinda hoping you could help me with step two.

MEDEA:

[SCOFFS] …So you kidnap me, a known murderer, on the infinitesimal chance that I’d both be willing and know how to help you.

ATALANTA:

I mean, to be fair, I knew you wouldn’t kill me.

MEDEA:

No, you didn’t.

ATALANTA:

Look, hear me out, okay? The thing is, we’re chasing a ghost. Obviously the Fleece isn’t just something you can walk into a store and find, and it’s not inaccessibility that’s the issue. If it were in a bank vault, or museum, or… I don’t know, some multitrillionaire’s private collection, we could deal with that.

MEDEA:

I know that already.

ATALANTA:

I recruited you-

MEDEA:

Kidnapped me.

ATALANTA:

—because you were the most likely person to have any kind of information on its location.

MEDEA:

…so you kidnapped me because you don’t know anything. Not for my skills, or my pharmaka, or a reason that might have made some kind of sense?!

ATALANTA:

I didn’t know Jason, not like you did. I figured—

MEDEA:

You know, just because I spent a summer in love with him doesn’t mean I’m an expert on all things Jason.

ATALANTA:

But you were his ex-wife! Surely you would’ve known something-

MEDEA:

We married on a whim, Atalanta! And a stupid whim at that! I wasn’t his confidante, just his throwaway wife until he got back to the mainland.

ATALANTA:

Look, you at least know more than I do about him, I need all the info I can—

[ECHO PLAYS A RECORDING OF DIALOGUE FROM THE LAST EPISODE]

MEDEA (RECORDING):

I want to stay here. I want to help you.

ATALANTA:

HAH!

[ECHO plays recording of dialogue from last episode]

ATALANTA (RECORDING):

Well, come on, then! We’ve got a lot to talk about if we’re gonna try to track this down, eh, co-captain?

[BEAT]

ATALANTA:

…This is a stupid argument.

MEDEA:

…Yeah.

ATALANTA (NARRATOR):

Obviously, it was. Even now, every time we argue it always seems to be about something irrelevant. Whether we should take this route or that. If she should press charges for a kidnapping when we both know she won’t. Who left the nucleo-toaster on. To tell you the truth, I still don’t know whether to be disappointed we can’t get on without cracking it at each other, or be glad it’s not about something actually important.

MEDEA:

You know, Jason mentioned that he’d hidden the Fleece somewhere, before he… before I killed him.

ATALANTA:

He did?

MEDEA:

Yeah.

ATALANTA:

Alright! [CLAPS HER HANDS] Well! That’s something at least! Now we can make a plan.

MEDEA:

Well, I don’t know about that.

ATALANTA:

Why? What do you mean?

MEDEA:

I mean, it’s not any new information. Just that he’d put it somewhere. It’d be different if he told me where he hid it, or who he told— if he even told anyone at all, which is unlikely enough.

ATALANTA:

So what, we just… don’t follow up on this lead?

MEDEA:

I’m not saying that.

ATALANTA:

Well, then, what are you saying?

MEDEA:

I mean, it’s just not much of a lead, is it? Not like it gives us much to go off of. For all we know he could’ve hidden it anywhere.

ATALANTA:

Okay, well, what else do we have? Hylas? Have you heard anything from him since the quest?

MEDEA:

We never really talked.

ATALANTA:

Mm, okay then. What about Admetus?

MEDEA:

Last I saw him, he pushed me into a wall and called me a witch. Hard pass. Who else is there?

ATALANTA:

Well, let’s see. If I’m remembering right, there was Argus, Deucalion, Phrontis…

[SHE CONTINUES LISTING NAMES AS IT FADES OUT]

ATALANTA (NARRATOR):

The rest of our research went… well. Disastrously, to be honest. It seemed like almost all the ex-Argonauts had either died, been seriously injured, or just up and vanished into thin air. Almost worse, neither of us could remember any great number of them——or at least I couldn’t. If Medea contributed any names, neither Echo nor I heard her. And Echo can hear a drachma drop onto a carpet while the vacuum’s running.

ATALANTA:

Crikey, my brain’s all fried from thinking too hard. Let’s take a break for lunch and come back later.

MEDEA:

Wait, seriously?

ATALANTA:

Feel free to go put on your thinking tracky daks, love. I know that’s what I’ll be doing.

[DOOR OPENS]

MEDEA:

[THROUGH THE DOOR] Wait, what are tracky-dacks?

ECHO:

[ALSO THROUGH THE DOOR] MoiraiSearch says: sweatpants.

ATALANTA (NARRATOR):

[FRUSTRATED NOISE] Look. I’d been trying to be nice, for all the good that’d been doing me. But I just… couldn’t handle the constant back and forth, after a while. It was all a gal could do to eat, take her pills, and lie down for a spell before plunging right back into the thick of it.

MEDEA:

What took you so long?

ATALANTA:

I’d really rather not, if you don’t mind. Back to names?

MEDEA:

…Fine. You’re the captain.

ATALANTA (NARRATOR):

By then, we’d been reduced to just… naming every sorry soul who might know even one lousy ounce of information. We weren’t even limiting ourselves to Argonauts anymore. The stress made my back flare up in pain even more than it already was, and lucky me, my meds still hadn’t kicked in. I wasn’t gonna show it in front of Medea, not when she was being difficult like that, but I could feel each passing second bringing me closer to Colchis’s gallows.

ATALANTA:

Look, I know we said Herakles Hercules already——

ECHO:

Would you like me to play a clip from the hit entertainment series, Twelve Labors with Herakles Hercules?

ATALANTA:

Er, thanks but no thanks. I was thinking, what about his hairdresser?

MEDEA:

He has a new one now. Olympus-Corp paid. Pass.

ATALANTA:

His grocer?

MEDEA:

Why would Jason know his grocer?

ATALANTA:

They worked with Demeter.

MEDEA:

Oh.

ATALANTA:

Look, I’ve been doing all the heavy lifting here, Medea! The least you could do is try to give a name! Just one! For pete’s sake, you were his wife; I figured you’d be better at this!

ATALANTA (NARRATOR):

There are some lines you know you shouldn’t cross, right up ‘til the moment they’re behind your feet. Medea’s cheeks flushed with anger, eyes burning into me. She hadn’t made much eye contact with me before, and she certainly didn’t do it for long, but even after she turned her glare back to the floor, I could still feel the rage emanating from her. For the first time I could see Medea the witch. Medea the traitor, the slayer of heroes. It was… I’d never been through anything like it.

MEDEA:

Fine. Let me just think of everyone I’ve ever heard Jason mention then. My aunt. His barber. Bloody Phineas’s sorry dentist. Like half the Olympians. Need I go on?

ATALANTA:

Wait–I–hold on a sec. You said Phineas?

MEDEA:

Uh, yeah?

ATALANTA:

Bloody hell, of course! Why didn’t I think of that sooner? That bloke knows everything!

MEDEA:

…Wait, Phineas? I thought he was–

ATALANTA:

Echo, set course for the Thracian system!

ECHO:

Of course, User Atalanta. Charted course will take approximately: forty-eight Gaia rotations.

MEDEA:

Glad I could help. Now, if you’ll allow me, I’m going back to bed. Don’t wake me up for anything less than Scylla.

ATALANTA:

Will do!

[THE MOON OF SALMYDESSUS]

ATALANTA (NARRATOR):

Thrace’s sun is small, but we’re close enough to it once we land that it hangs low and large in the sky. Its blood-red glow stands out, especially against the green stretching out as far as I can see. Moss is everywhere- hanging from the trees, and almost completely covering the small landing strip we were able to find. Mist hangs in the air, like it’s always on the edge of raining. Animals flit in and out of my peripheral vision. There’s more life here than I’ve seen in, well, a long time.

ECHO:

You have landed on the moon of Salmydessus, in the Thracian System.

ATALANTA:

Thanks, Echo. See ya later.

[THE ARGO’S MAIN DOOR OPENS. FOREST SOUNDS, ANIMAL CALLS AND BIRDSONG, WATER RUNNING]

MEDEA:

Wow… this is… this is Gaian moss! And those are― wow. Oh my god, how are those even growing here? Imagine all the things I could make with this…

ATALANTA:

This place used to be a resort… while back, before Phineas got dropped here. Well then. What’re we waiting for? Let’s get a move on.

ATALANTA (NARRATOR):

As we keep moving, I lose patience with the whole rainforest thing pretty quickly. The thick mud keeps sticking to my boots. Even my second-favorite pants aren’t immune, no matter how much I hike them up. Tomorrow I’m going to regret not saving this trip for a drier day, but it’s not like I’m gonna complain to my travelling companion about it.

MEDEA:

It’s really… wet… here.

ATALANTA:

No kidding.

MEDEA:

If I had known, I would have asked to borrow some of your “traykie docks.”

ATALANTA:

These are cargo pants, not sweatpants.

MEDEA:

Ah. Um, how much further?

ATALANTA:

Echo said it might be a while. We chose the closest place we could touch down; rainforests don’t make for great landing areas.

MEDEA:

Oh. Great.

ATALANTA (NARRATOR):

After at least a mile of walking, two showers, and what feels like a year of Medea’s grumbling, we finally spy a lonely house nestled in between some trees. It’s really nice-looking, like it used to be some condo or something, before this place got eaten by the forest. Just like everything else, it’s all covered in moss- on the roof, over the windows- there’s even some snaking out from the chimney. The closer we get to it, the emptier it seems. It’s… kinda sad, actually.

ATALANTA:

Hello? Anyone home? [KNOCKING]

[SILENCE, THEN THE DOOR CREAKS]

MEDEA:

The door’s… open.

ATALANTA:

Er, I don’t suppose he’d mind if we just entered, would he?

MEDEA:

Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve barged into someone’s home without asking permission.

[FOOTSTEPS]

ATALANTA:

I mean–I guess, but–hold on, wait up!

[ATALANTA’S FOOTSTEPS FOLLOW]

MEDEA:

[FAR AWAY] Hey, anyone in here? Phineas? Hello?

[A LOUD CRASH]

[ATALANTA RUNS UP TO HER]

ATALANTA:

Medea! Are you okay?

MEDEA:

I’m–I’m fine. That wasn’t me.

PHINEAS:

[FURTHER INSIDE] Who’s there? Show yourselves!

MEDEA:

Hang on, is that…

ATALANTA:

Phineas! Is that you?

PHINEAS:

And how do you know my name? You’re not with Olympus Corp, are you?

MEDEA:

God no.

ATALANTA:

No! We’re here for–we’re Argonauts!

[BEAT]

PHINEAS:

Argonauts, you say?

ATALANTA:

Yeah. We’re uh, here for information. Can we… come in? …More than we already have?

PHINEAS:

Well, if it’s just information you want, I suppose you can come on in.

ATALANTA:

Alright. Uh, let’s go, Medea.

MEDEA:

Don’t have to tell me twice.

[FOOTSTEPS]

ATALANTA (NARRATOR):

We find Phineas sitting at a round table, boots slung up by the silverware, thumbing through a deck of cards and snacking on a bar of something I can’t recognise. The furniture’s old; the wood petrified from age. Looking at him now, it’s hard not to imagine that he’s as old as this whole forest.

Seeing as how my life depends on what he knows, I try not to feel too bad about disrupting him. Doesn’t look like he’s having any kind of fun, anyhow.

ATALANTA:

Er, Mister Phineas, sir? Hi.

PHINEAS:

[WITH A MOUTHFUL OF FOOD] So. Care to let me know who exactly you are? I didn’t place an order for company, you know.

ATALANTA:

Well, uh, like I said, we’re Argonauts. My name’s Atalanta, and this is—

MEDEA:

I can introduce myself, thanks. Medea.

PHINEAS:

Huh. Coulda sworn I’d heard that name before.

MEDEA:

No, you haven’t.

PHINEAS:

Whatever you say, kid. So. What brings you to my humble abode?

ATALANTA:

…We hoped you’d enjoy the company?

PHINEAS:

Assuming I don’t and would rather you get a move on?

ATALANTA:

Right. I’ll, uh… I’ll get to the point then. Do you know anything about the Fleece?

PHINEAS:

I don’t know if you can tell, but I don’t have the greatest taste in wool products.

MEDEA:

You know what she means. The Freelance Care Compendium.

PHINEAS:

Hmm. The F.L.C.C. I know the basics, sure. But I have to wonder what a pair of healthy-looking kids like you are doing looking for the finest medicinal recipe book in the universe?

ATALANTA:

Listen, love, you don’t need to know all our business. Not unless you know where the FLCC is, at least.

PHINEAS:

Hold on, you’re searching for— oh, stars no. I am not getting myself mixed up in Olympian business again, you hear me?! Especially not after last time. I told myself I’d never do that again, and I’ll be damned if I abandon that promise for the first person to say “please”!

ATALANTA:

What do you mean “last time”?

PHINEAS:

Nope! Not talking about it. Wouldn’t if you paid me. Ix-nay on the ympian-talk-olay.

ATALANTA:

So, you’re not gonna help us then.

PHINEAS:

Look, I’m sorry, kid, but I don’t get involved anymore. ‘Specially when it has to do with the medical business.

MEDEA:

And why’s that?

PHINEAS:

Ain’t telling you. Bad history and all.

ATALANTA:

What kind of bad history?

PHINEAS:

The kind I hate thinking about. Now, I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.

MEDEA:

Alright, alright. Let’s go, Atalanta.

[MEDEA STARTS TO LEAVE]

ATALANTA:

Okay, hold on. [SHE SLAMS HER FIST ON THE TABLE, FOOTSTEPS STOP] Look, man. We’re more than a little desperate here.

MEDEA:

Uh, speak for yourself.

ATALANTA:

Fine. I’m desperate, okay? You really don’t know how much I need this. I can’t tell you why, but I’ve been searching for months. I even all but kidnapped a witch for nothing.

MEDEA:

I told you, it’s pharmaka.

ATALANTA:

And in all this time, you’ve been the closest thing to a lead I’ve been able to track down. So if you’re not going to help us, at least give me a good reason why.

[SILENCE]

PHINEAS:

Fine! Since you’re so riled up about it. I can tell you why. And then you can leave. [SIGH, BEAT] See, when I was younger, I had a fling with a man with the voice of a muse.

MEDEA:

Okay, definitely didn’t ask.

PHINEAS:

But then, you see, he was more than a mere man. And it was… a bit more than a fling.

ATALANTA:

[BEAT, THEN REALIZATION] Apollo.

[BANJO MUSIC STARTS]

PHINEAS:

Bingo.

MEDEA:

But you’re so old, and Apollo…?

PHINEAS:

Oh, honey, he’s far older than I am. And the secrets he told me about his fellow Olympians! Listen. You’re a Pharmakist. If you ever get a chance to study that ambrosia of theirs, lemme know. Anyway, for our anniversary, he thought it’d be sweet to give me a gift. And you know how Apollo is with gifts. He said it was a way to know things others didn’t exactly make… public. Nothing’s really secret in a world filled with metal eyes and ears, after all. They’re called ORACLE chips, and they’re damn powerful gifts.

ATALANTA:

Sounds like it.

PHINEAS:

I… used that chip in ways that weren’t exactly to his liking— and definitely weren’t endorsed by the big bosses— so he pulled a takesie-backsies. Well. He tried to, at least. Turns out it’s pretty hard to take out a metal chip that’s already started to take root in somebody’s head without killing the poor bastard outright.

MEDEA:

[SHUDDERS] Gross.

PHINEAS:

And even worse for his perfect little PR story, by that time, the tabloids were already too invested in our relationship for him to make his little “problem” disappear quietly, so he banished me here. Called it a resort getaway. Like this “resort” has been used in the past century. [SNORTS] ‘Course, he didn’t let me get away scot-free. I can’t see through cameras, not anymore, and the bastard sent some of death’s assassins after me for a bit.

MEDEA:

Death’s assassins?

ATALANTA:

Harpies— Hades’ cronies. Those mean-looking dieselship girls who hang out on some moon off god-knows-where. They… take commissions.

PHINEAS:

Luckily, I shook ‘em off well enough, and the Argonauts took care of the rest. I took an Olympian’s good graces for granted. Even if it was the right thing to do, it was still the worst mistake I ever made. Don’t you dare do the same thing I did. You can’t stand against them without losing everything, and I mean everything.

ATALANTA:

No need to worry about me, mate. Won’t be falling in love with any Olympian sheilas anytime soon, thank you very much.

MEDEA:

[LAUGHS, TEASING] Can’t think of any that would have you.

ATALANTA:

Hey, that’s— Look, Phineas, can you help us or not?

PHINEAS:

Sorry kid, no dice. It’s like I said. Can’t get involved in Olympian business again.

ATALANTA:

Really? Just because Apollo didn’t like that you were using that chip he gave you to hand out Olympian secrets?

MEDEA:

Atalanta. It’s not worth it, let’s just go back to the Argo. He’s not going to help us.

ATALANTA (NARRATOR):

Medea puts her hand on my wrist, and that’s about the only thing stopping me from squaring up with Phineas then and there. Honestly, the nerve of him! It’s one thing to stay away from the Olympians yourself, I can understand that, but when you’re actively preventing us from making any progress on our quest by deliberately withholding information? And besides, he owes us! Or, he owes the Argonauts at least, for saving him that one time! The least he can do is give us just this one bit of info— hell, Apollo doesn’t need to know! Nobody needs to know! So I just can’t wrap my head around WHY YOU-

MEDEA:

Atalanta! Calm down!

ATALANTA:

What— Medea? Was I… Did I say that out loud?

PHINEAS:

Yes. It was very honest of you.

ATALANTA:

I- Stars. Sorry, I’m just… this is a real big deal to me.

PHINEAS:

Hmm. …Fine.

ATALANTA:

“Fine” what?

PHINEAS:

Fine. I can help you. Maybe.

ATALANTA:

Hang on, really? You’ll really help us?

MEDEA:

What’s with the change of heart?

PHINEAS:

Because I’m not helping you unless I get at least a little something out of it. If you wanna know what I know, get me outta this dump. It’s a pretty planet, sure, but it hasn’t had any nightlife in ages. You’re new here; there’s no way you don’t have some fancy schmancy ship and credentials. I’m just asking you to take ‘em for a spin.

MEDEA:

Fancy wouldn’t be the word I would use…

ATALANTA:

And I don’t suppose you’d want to give us any more relevant info before then?

PHINEAS:

No can do.

ATALANTA:

Wonderful. In that case we’d be happy to help.

MEDEA:

Oh. Great.

PHINEAS:

Perfect! I’ll go pack if you two go rustle up some disguises for me.

ATALANTA:

Hold up. Disguises? Why do we need to disguise you?

PHINEAS:

Apollo… mighta landed me on the never-fly-again list.

MEDEA:

Oh. Well I’m sure this will go wonderfully.

[ARRIVED ON THE AIRPORT OF SALMYDESSUS. THERE ARE PEOPLE TALKING IN THE DISTANCE AND ANNOUNCEMENTS OVER THE INTERCOM.]

STSA AGENT:

So, here we have… I’m sorry, what did you say your names were?

ATALANTA:

I’m Atalanta, this is… Myrce…

MEDEA (MYRCE):

Yes. Hello.

ATALANTA:

And, of course, my cousin… Pop…sic…les.

PHINEAS (POPSICLES):

[BAD, FAKEY ACCENT] Ah, yes. ‘Tis I. Popsicles. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.

ATALANTA (NARRATOR):

As the agent from the Space Travel Safety Association examines the fake beard Phineas had decided to wear over his real beard, I regret not insisting on preparing more thoroughly for this before we’d left. Our passports are cobbled together out of construction paper and glue. Our disguises are mostly leaves from Phineas’s roof. And the less said about our cover story, the better.

STSA AGENT:

…and how exactly do you spell that?

MEDEA:

M-Y-R-C—

STSA AGENT:

I meant your partner, Ms. Myrce.

ATALANTA:

Uuuuuuuuhhhh…

PHINEAS (POPSICLES):

P-U-P-S-Y-C-L-E-E-E-Z.

ATALANTA:

He’s kidding! Right, Pops?

PHINEAS (POPSICLES):

Nope.

STSA AGENT:

Right. And you’re arriving on Salmydessus because…?

MEDEA:

And why do we need to tell you?

ATALANTA:

[FRANTICALLY] Phin— Pops here said he needed a vacation from his vacation, so, um. Here we are. We’re off to, um… Sparta.

STSA AGENT:

Really? Sparta? For a vacation.

ATALANTA:

[NERVOUS] Yeah! He likes the… beaches? [TO MEDEA] Do they have beaches on Sparta?

MEDEA:

How would I know? I’ve never been there.

STSA AGENT:

Interesting. Okay, you three, come with me. I’m going to run a more thorough security check.

MEDEA:

Yeah, I really should have seen this coming.

[MUTTERING] Alright, Atalanta. What’s the plan?

ATALANTA (NARRATOR):

What’s the plan? We have no plan. And here we are, about to get arrested, no doubt. Which is great! Fantastic! I’m sure Colchis will forgive me when they find out I’ve been locked up with two known criminals!

MEDEA:

Atalanta?

ATALANTA:

I’m… I’m thinking. Give me a moment.

MEDEA:

We don’t have a moment. If you’re going to think of something, do it quick. If that guard recognises us, we’re done for.

ATALANTA:

You think I don’t know that?

PHINEAS:

Hate to butt in, but the lady’s right, Atalanta. We’re running out of time, and I am not going back to that moon.

ATALANTA:

I… Just give me a moment, I…

STSA AGENT:

May I see your passes?

PHINEAS:

Well!

ATALANTA (NARRATION):

Phineas steps forward. There’s something different about the way he carries himself now, in this moment. He looks… younger. Like he’s a different version of himself.

PHINEAS (POPSICLES):

Excuse me, Mx., would you come here a moment?

STSA AGENT:

Oh, uh… sure.

ATALANTA (NARRATOR):

He leans over to the guard and whispers something into their ear. I try to make out the words and beside me, I can see Medea doing the same–but neither of us really get the opportunity to eavesdrop. After a few seconds, the guard jumps away like they’ve been hit with an electric shock.

STSA AGENT:

Oh! Okay! Alright, uh, just— just go ahead, sir! You too, Ms., ah, just, uh, right ahead!

PHINEAS:

Phew. That was a close one.

ATALANTA:

You–What was that? What did you say to them?

PHINEAS:

Oh, nothing special. Just mentioned a couple of things they’d rather… keep private.

MEDEA:

I’m sorry, what?

PHINEAS:

[SIGHS] When Apollo tried to rip me off like the bastard he is, he didn’t completely ruin the chip. Just cause I can’t see through cameras anymore doesn’t mean the world’s secrets are safe from prying ears.

ATALANTA:

So, basically, you blackmailed them?

PHINEAS:

It worked, didn’t it?

ATALANTA:

I… suppose it did.

PHINEAS:

See, kid? Nothing wrong with a little morally ambiguous blackmail every once in a while. You should try it sometime.

MEDEA:

But- wait. You’re still using the ORACLE chip? Even when it’s half destroyed?

PHINEAS:

Yeah. So?

MEDEA:

You— you know what that will do to you, right? That chip’s connected to your nervous system, if you use it in that state, it could seriously damage your—

PHINEAS:

Woah, woah, woah. Listen to me, kid. I’m fine, see? Still kicking. And I’m on Salmydessus now! So, in my eyes, it was worth it. Don’t you worry about it, that’s my job, alright?

MEDEA:

You— Well. Alright.

PHINEAS:

…I mean, If you want to make it up to me, there is one thing you could do.

ATALANTA:

And what’s that?

PHINEAS:

The Argo. It’s been years since I could spend quality time with the old girl. Think you could let an old man say one last goodbye to her?

ATALANTA:

Yeah. Yeah, of course.

ATALANTA (NARRATION):

And with that, we’re headed back. I’ve barely seen Salmydessus itself, but… Phineas looks much happier than before, standing on the surface of his home after years. And that’s a far better picture than any kind of sightseeing.

[INSIDE THE ARGO.]

ATALANTA:

So. That information about the Fleece?

PHINEAS:

Right. Now listen carefully, because I’m only gonna say this once. The information you seek can be found in the hands of they who crossed the lord of Erberus and made it out alive.

ATALANTA:

I’m sorry?

MEDEA:

No more riddles. I’ve had enough to last two bloody lifetimes.

PHINEAS:

Only two? I have enough for more lifetimes than you’d ever believe.

ATALANTA:

That’s it? You can’t be any more specific?

PHINEAS:

Look, I just got off of that stars-forsaken moon. I am not doing anything to get on Apollo’s radar ever again!

MEDEA:

So basically, you can, but you won’t. [WET FABRIC RUSTLES] Ugh, where can I get this skirt laundered again? It’s all muddy and moss-covered now.

ATALANTA:

Top floor across from artefact storage.

MEDEA:

Thanks.

[FOOTSTEPS AS SHE LEAVES]

PHINEAS:

How old is this ship even? This leather feels more worn and discarded than I am.

ATALANTA:

Very. Hey, Phineas, I— I just wanted to say- I want to thank you real quick.

PHINEAS:

What?

ATALANTA:

For— uh, for helping us with the FLCC. It means a lot.

[ATALANTA’S THEME STARTS]

PHINEAS:

Yeah, yeah. What makes you so interested in it anyway?

ATALANTA:

I’ve… got my reasons.

PHINEAS:

Reasons? What possible reasons could you have? Got a girl you wanna impress? Someone sick you need to heal? There’re plenty of probable reasons for a kid like you to go looking for that old thing. Come on. I’m not all unhelpful–when I want to be. I’ve seen a thing or two in my years. Maybe I know something else. Maybe not.

ATALANTA:

Do you? Know something else, I mean?

PHINEAS:

Well, now! I’d certainly be happy to tell you, but first I’m gonna need you to be a little forthcoming in return. Ease an old man’s curiosity. What’s your deal with the FLCC?

ATALANTA:

I… don’t think I can tell you that.

PHINEAS:

Oh? And just what’ve I done to merit this mistreatment?

ATALANTA:

Er, legally. I meant— I’m in pretty hot water with some dangerous folks who I do not want madder at me than they already are.

PHINEAS:

I see. Care to name a few names?

ATALANTA:

Not really, no.

PHINEAS:

Fair enough. You know, some people find I’m quite a discerning confidante. Man of my word.

ATALANTA:

You just blackmailed someone four minutes ago!

PHINEAS:

They were gonna turn me in! You’re helping me. There’s a difference.

ATALANTA:

I guess so.

MEDEA:

[YELLING FROM FAR AWAY] Hey Atalanta? Why is there a huge bloody vat of Spam in the cabinet marked “detergent”?!

ATALANTA:

Stars, I forgot to warn her about that! And the Stymphalian in the washer! And–

PHINEAS:

Okay, okay, you go deal with that. I’m going to wash the moss out of my beard.

ATALANTA:

Thanks! [GETTING FARTHER AWAY, FOOTSTEPS] Just don’t use the handle on the right! It makes boiling oil come out instead of water.

PHINEAS:

I… Stars, of all the ships.

ATALANTA (NARRATOR):

And with one last, “See you on the other side of the Acheron, chumps,” Phineas takes his leave. Off to get a fresh start. It’s… a relief, knowing that I— that we helped him. But as we begin to reboard the Argo, Medea’s posture stiffens. Her arm shoots forward in order to hold me back. She’s not very strong, but the shock of it makes me step back a little. Something’s off.

ATALANTA:

Uhh, Medea? You good over there?

MEDEA:

Shush!

ATALANTA:

What?

MEDEA:

Hush, Atalanta!

ATALANTA:

Medea, I don’t–

[MEDEA SLAPS HER HAND OVER ATALANTA’S MOUTH]

ATALANTA (NARRATOR):

Her hand flies to cover my mouth. For a moment, I’m frozen, hyper-aware of how close we are. Then I figure out why.

[CLANGING NOISES]

ECHO:

Warning. Unidentified presence detected in the Storage Room.

MEDEA:

Shut up!

ATALANTA:

[FROM BEHIND HER HAND] What in the— ooooooh. Shush.

MEDEA:

Yeah, shush!

[MORE CLUNKING AND SLAMMING NOISES]

MEDEA:

You told Echo to lock up, right?

ATALANTA:

Obviously.

MEDEA:

And you still have the keys?

ATALANTA:

I haven’t misplaced them for hours now! [KEYS JINGLING] No, yeah, they’re here.

MEDEA:

C’mon. Echo said they were in the storage room, right? This way.

ATALANTA (NARRATION):

My heart is pounding almost out of my chest by the time we get to the door to the storage room. Medea and I look at each other.

MEDEA:

Alright. On three. One. Two. Three!

[DOOR OPENS]

ATALANTA:

Who’s there? Show yourself, you- you… oh.

ATALANTA (NARRATION):

Sitting in the middle of the storage room is a young… person. They’re wearing the most eye-searingly ugly parka I’ve ever bloody seen. Their hair is long and wiry, with an undercut that— no. I look closer, and I can see— those are actual wires. Medea glares at them, and they sheepishly lower the lid of the box they were trying to fit into.

???:

Uh… if I told you I wasn’t actually here, would you believe me?

TALESPINNER:

Khora Podcast is created and produced by Trenchcoat & Co. Productions.

This episode of Khora Podcast, Metal Eyes and Metal Ears, featured Kit MacNeil as Medea, Mq Quinlan as Atalanta, Kat Hawthorne as ECHO, Rey Vargas as Phineas, Sats D. Stefano as the Space TSA Agent, Hayan Lee as the Talespinner, and Clary Cheung as [STATIC HISSES]. Khora’s music and sound design is done by the Khora Team. This episode was written by Jules Violet, Rey Bailey, and the Khora Crew. To find out more about all the wonderful people whose work goes into making this show possible, check out the shownotes below.

Do you want to support Khora? Tell your friends about us, or post about us on social media with #khorapodcast, that’s hashtag k-h-o-r-a-podcast. This podcast was made with no budget and lots of love by a group of friends, and so your support truly means a lot to us. you can find us on Twitter, Tumblr, and Instagram @khorapodcast. Thank you for listening, and we’ll see you for the next verse of our epic!