FERN:

Okay, for starters, can you tell me more about your dog and how you got here?

CHERYL:

Salami's a little brown thing, curly hair, floppy ears, I'm pretty sure he was born specifically to make my life more annoying.

He was puking everywhere even more than he usually likes to puke everywhere and the kids wouldn't stop pretending to cry about it, so I shifted by after work. The doc just said to wait here while he "took a look at my son" and I'm like "it's a dog, idiot" and he's like "well of course it is! That's what I said!" and I haven't seen him since. I guess I could have used a little "me time" but they could at least give me an update now and then.

FERN:

The "Doc"...which doctor do you mean? Can you, uh, describe him for me?

CHERYL:

The little orange squeaky toy freak. That sound right to you?

FERN:

It does, yes. I guess he's my "boss" right now, or one of them at least.

CHERYL:

I get the feeling you're still figuring this stuff out, so if it means anything, I got no way of knowing how you actually heard me describe him. We could see him the same way or completely different and your perception filter interpreted the words to fit your version of it. Pretty sure whatever sphere he's in he still looks stupid though.

FERN:

Oh, yeah, I've heard that sort of thing.

CHERYL:

Yeah, I mean, most of the time it doesn't matter, obviously, but you never know if your private perception of something might be missing a few details that change its whole context, especially to a greenhorn, no offense. Just saying, you shouldn't not never trust nothing completely.

FERN:

That's...a lot of negatives.

CHERYL:

Well, you perceived it was, anyway.

FERN:

Someone was telling me I need to get stronger. Do you know anything about, uh, fighting monsters?

CHERYL:

Ugh, waste of time. I just zone-swap and let something else handle it.

Hospital's supposed to cover that, though, specially for its own employees. You ain't been to the lab?

FERN:

The lab??

I think I have...it's been a while. Nobody was there that I saw. Do you know what they're supposed to do??

CHERYL:

Something or other about microbiota. Never looked into it. Like I said, I don't do fights if I can help it.

If they weren't just out to lunch they probably got offed. Heard through the grapevine there's been some "disappearances" around the place.

FERN:

Really. What else have you heard?

CHERYL:

Besides that our neck of the grey range is one big teratoid, that nobody's allowed in or out of the hospital, and that the definitions of loosely related zones are deteriorating, no, nothing special. Business as usual for an interzonal threat.

FERN:

Business as usual, huh...

Any, um, general advice you can give us "greenhorns?"

CHERYL:

Sure thing.

Remember something somewhere is always watching you, or listening, or fazzing, or reading, or something. Nothing's actually private.

Anything you consider a door or a hole to anywhere else can be a pretty powerful and dangerous thing under the right circumstances.

Despite what they say, time does exist, at least for you and I, and anything that subjectively exists is as real as anything else.

Don't let a rippleslick get fresh.

There's a lot more to even you than you can necessarily perceive at any given layer.

If you're ever back in the grey zone, don't eat grapes anymore.

That's all I got.

FERN:

I see. Thanks, I think.

I guess I'd better be getting back to work, I'll look for your dog. What was his name again? Um...Bologna? Or was it Salami?

CHERYL:

Pepperoni.

FERN:

...Right, right. I'll, er, look for "Pepperoni" best I can.

CHERYL:

Watch your back out there.