Episode 22 - A Familiar Face, at the Wrong Time

The Vault had been quiet.

Too quiet.

Which, for any other room in the station, would be a blessing. But when it came to the Vault—a place known to hum, rattle, whisper, and occasionally wheeze in binary—stillness felt… unnatural.

Olivia brought Bernard a warm mug of Reel Grease & Honey, his preferred calming blend, and hovered near the Vault entrance.

“You haven’t said anything weird about it in three days,” she said. “That’s not like you.”

Bernard, half-melded with the wall and vibrating at a soft hum, slowly emerged.

“I don’t like it,” he admitted. “It’s pretending to be dormant. Which means it’s thinking.”

He blinked. All eyes. Slowly.

“And I don’t like when it thinks.”

They were about to begin diagnostics—something involving tuning forks and a silver stopwatch older than Earth—when the front door creaked.

Not slammed. Not burst open. Just… opened.

Olivia peeked around the corner.

And there he was.

Dr. Torpor.

Grinning. Eyes bright. Suit crisp. The unmistakable energy of a man with a purpose he’s already forgotten.

“Hello, lovely building!” he called. “Olivia! Bernard! Charles! Station!”

He waved broadly at nothing.

Olivia blinked. “It’s… Wednesday.”

“Yes, yes!” he beamed. “Happy Wednesday!”

She stepped out from the Vault hallway. “Dr. Torpor. You’re not supposed to be here until Friday night.”

He paused.

Looked around.

Then laughed. “Oh dear. I’ve tri-cycled across the threshold again, haven’t I?”

Bernard groaned from behind her.

“Not again,” he muttered. “The last time he did this, we aired Bride of the Lizard King three times in a row, backward.”

Dr. Torpor marched up to the front desk and carefully set a battered film reel on the counter.

“I found something,” he said, very seriously. “Something… revelatory.”

Olivia eyed the reel. It was unlabeled. Humming softly.

“Where did you find it?”

“Oh,” he said vaguely, “somewhere between the Crawlspace of Lost Ideas and the Static Keep. Lovely vacation spot.”

Bernard floated up beside her. Stared at the reel.

Then recoiled slightly.

“…That’s not ours.”

Dr. Torpor beamed.

“I know! Isn’t it exciting?”

The Vault rumbled behind them.

Just once. But enough.

Miss LaDonna’s voice echoed faintly down the hallway.

“Careful what you bring inside, doctor.”

Olivia looked between the reel, Bernard, and Dr. Torpor—who was now trying to pet the lobby fern and asking if it was a new intern.

She sighed.

And smiled.

Then turned to Bernard.

“Should we lock this up, screen it, or burn it?”

Bernard’s glow pulsed nervously.

“Yes.”