Author's notes
I've been working on a set of stories centered in the early 2380s. The cadet in the story below is one of the main characters in said series. However, this story is set back when he was about to graduate Star Fleet Academy in 2360.
I whipped this story out yesterday just to test the waters again --I've not written a line on the main set of stories in at least 9 months. Of course, that means I did not check to make sure there *is* a Friday 13th in August or September of 2359. So, that little detail may be just straight up wrong.
I also did not name any of the other three speaking characters. Basically, I didn't have any reference material and didn't want to make a stupid mistake as to who was what, when. Besides, names were not particularly important. I could have kept Baskov's name out, too, and it would have been basically the same. They're all non-descript characters, anyways.
Also, I was a bit lazy about writing just "Admiral" when I'm referring to a "Rear Admiral". But I've read it over several times and it's not confusing, so I've left it.
Ok. With no further ado, the story:
CADET BASKOV'S FINAL INTERVIEW
"Cadet Baskov. The Rear Admiral will see you now," the receptionist told him.
"Much thanks," the cadet replied as he quickly extricated himself from the luxurious couch in the reception hall. A Star Fleet Academy cadet was not usually called into an Admiral's office on the second-to-last week of his senior year unless it was both urgent and bad. Sergei Sanovavich Baskov was nervous.
He opened the door and saw the Admiral standing at the window of her office. He entered the room, shut the door behind him, walked two paces in, then stood at attention. He spoke crisply but not loudly, "Senior Cadet Baskov reporting as ordered, sir."
The Admiral responded quickly and quietly but did not move to turn into the room, "Have a seat, cadet. This is an informal meeting."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Baskov replied automatically as he sat at the comfy chair before the Admiral's desk.
"I've been reviewing your academy records Mr. Baskov," she began without preamble, "and there are several anomalies I would like you to explain to me." She turned her body slowly into the room. She did not look at him but, instead, at a PADD in her left hand that Baskov assumed was his complete Star Fleet file. "It says here you were born in Tunguska, Siberia and that you have not returned home these past four years except for very short visits. May I ask why."
"Sir, the climate is awful."
"Even in summer?"
"Sir, yes sir. The mosquitoes can grow to the wingspan of a swallow and they swarm in the millions. Surviving Siberian Summer is as difficult as surviving Siberian Winter."
"How about Spring or Fall?"
"Sir, there is two week window every Spring and Fall where Siberia climate is comfortable for human habitation. It is unfortunate that each year those weeks fall on different, random calendar days."
The Admiral smiled, not completely suppressing a chuckle, "I appreciate a tall tale as much as anyone else, but this is a fact finding meeting and I'd appreciate it if you kept the humor to a minimum."
"Sir, Siberian climate is deadly. I know not to make jokes of it." Boskov kept his manner and tone grave to be certain the Admiral understood he was being serious. "Antarctic survival training is very useful but I recommend supplementation with both Winter and Summer trainings in Siberia. It is that bad."
"My apologies, cadet, I thought you were kidding. I'll have to look into Siberian survival training... Now. It says here you kept your Academy dormitory during your first summer vacation. Why."
"Sir, I wanted to spend time studying in Academy Library."
"And what was the subject you studied most while you were here that summer?"
"Sir, the Kobiashi Maru test."
"The No-Win scenario."
"Sir, yes sir."
"Why?"
"Sir... I do not know... It is..." he struggled for the right word as he blew out a breath, inflating his cheeks to round hemispheres as he made a loud hissing sound. "Compelling," he finished at last.
"Compelling. To lose?"
"Sir! No, sir!" he said with vehemence but not volume.
"What, then?"
Sergei slumped his shoulders and sat back in his chair. He blew out another breath as he collected his thoughts but this time his cheeks did not bulge, his lower lip pouched out and the sound was only that of rushing air. As he breathed back in, his eyes broke contact with hers and stared beyond the carpeted floor to his left. He closed his eyes and pinched the corners of his eyes to the bridge of his nose. This was going to be hard to describe.
"Captain Kirk was great man; great Captain. But he was wrong," he began, fingers still on his eyes, "No-Win scenarios are real. They exist." He pulled his hand from his face and looked the Admiral in the eyes. "And when you find yourself in No-Win scenario... You. Lose. Nothing changes that. Only question is how much you lose. Your friends? Life? Crew? Ship? Entire planet? ... Depends." He looked away, "Always it depends." He shook his head and look down at his open hands for a moment.
"Rear Admiral, sir, I am no longer ignorant pleeb." He looked up at the woman across the desk, "I know what this is, so let's stop dicking around." The Admiral's face became harsh but he did not allow himself to be interrupted, "I am obsessed with Kobiashi Maru. And you wish to know if I have failure complex."
"Do you?"
"No, sir. I do not."
"You were near the top of your class your first three semesters. Then you acted as bridge crew aboard a Kobiashi Maru test and your grades plummeted."
"Yes, sir."
"Your grades continued to suck for the beginning of your Sophomore year and then they picked up considerably, and you managed to just pass. What happened."
"Boothby set me right: no grades, no Academy, no test."
"So you did your work to stay in the Academy in order to continue participating in the Kobiashi Maru."
"Yes, sir."
"In your Sophomore year, how many times did you participate in the test as a crew member?"
"One hundred thirty-five times, sir."
The Admiral looked at Baskov in confusion, "It says here sixty-two times."
"Yes, sir. I participated sixty-two times before I was banned. I then bypassed ban by signing up as different students."
"That isn't possible," the Admiral stated in automatic disbelief.
"There is always work-around for security protocol. It is matter of applying inverse logic. This is Russian speciality."
The Admiral glared at the cadet, first in astonishment, then in disbelief, then with anger. "You will divulge the methods you used."
"Sir, when I apprenticed to simulator in third summer, I fixed all security holes I used to bypass ban under complete supervision of director. Those fixes are on record. As is commendation for fixes."
"Those commendations can be expunged now that I know why you knew how to fix them."
"Again, no ignorant Pleeb am I. Ninty percent of security holes are fixed by cadets who used those same holes. Removing commendations would be the shooting of own foot."
"You are this close to me placing an official insubordination report in your file, cadet. Don't push me."
"Such official report would have to admit reasons for interaction, which would be counter to purpose of meeting. Don't threaten me with actions you will not commit... I know I passed all exams. I know I have fulfilled all requirements for graduation. Now you must prove me mentally unfit or not. You and I both know it must be done quietly. So don't treat me like durak. Crazy? Maybe. Quite possibly. But, durak? Nyet!"
"Alright, cadet," she answered dangerously, "have it your way. Your ban was lifted in the second semester of your Junior year. How many hours did you log in the simulator afterwards."
"At least three hours, and sometimes five hours every week for two semesters. I lost count but full hours are on file... More than any other cadet in history since Spock. This much I know."
"Considerably more... And this is how you got your internship on the simulator your third summer."
"Yes."
"And how did this happen?"
"I applied."
"Anything else?"
"Application included code for correcting several errors."
"And that's how you got your internship?
"Yes."
"Do you know Administrator Linden is a homosexual?"
"Yes. And so? ... You imply something?"
"Was he your lover?"
"Private affairs are not your business."
"So you two had an affair."
"No. And it is not your business."
"Unless the affair effects your performance."
"You have reason to believe it did?"
"It would go a long way to explaining your obsession."
"No. It wouldn't. My obsession for Kobiashi Maru preceded meeting of Jacobi --Administrator Linden-- by two years... Jacobi has preference for what is called "pretty boys". I am not pretty boy. I am Russian bear. I have preference for girls. Affair with Jacobi is affair for love of work. He is obsessed with programming for realism like I am obsessed with Kobiashi Maru. We worked together well."
"You and Jacobi Linden were never lovers."
"No. Never...And that is the last I say on subject." The Admiral's gaze exuded poisonous danger and Baskov was careful not to show any defiance in his eyes. But he was just as careful to show stubborn determination.
When the Rear Admiral continued it was with a tacit understanding the subject of Jacobi Linden was not closed but merely delayed. "How many times have you taken the Kobiashi Maru while Captaining the simulator?"
"Officially, sixteen times. Unofficially, sixty-one times, including thirty-two times to debug simulation as intern."
"Did you ever beat the simulation."
"Yes. Four times. But never legitimately. All were exploitation errors in simulation... I should specify: Each win was exploitation of different error."
"And you fixed these errors?
"Not all no... Em... Fourth error I find as Senior Cadet, not as simulation intern. So, forth error was fixed by another... Hopefully."
"Ok. Then let's move on to your Senior year. With the exception of your first few semesters, your grades up to this point were never stellar, never above the ninety percentile. And then, at the end of the first semester, your grades improved to the best in your class. What happened?"
"Finally. We are getting to core of issue. Friday, thirteen, I take second official Kobiashi Maru. Previous summer I work on test every day for six weeks: I wake up, I make code changes, make simulated runs, do error correction, make notes on improvements. I go to bed and I dream the simulation. Every night. I dream No-Win scenario. Always different. Always improvements. I wake up at end, take notes and then sleep to dream again. And again. And Again. Every. Night.
"I told myself I tried to find the essence of No-Win scenario. To find how can it be recognized, so as to avoid it, or modify it, or change circumstances. But it was game. Silly game for ignorant boy. [Sigh] Sometimes I knew I dreamed, sometimes I did not. But it was game. Not real. No consequence.
"And then Friday night. The thirteenth. I dream Kobiashi Maru. But this time it was not game. It was real. I experience people I love die. Badly. I experience my ship, my responsibility, destroyed. Ripped apart in destructive blasts of energy. And I know it was all my blame. When I wake up, it is 01:30 hours. When I am able to sleep, I dream it again but in different way. This time, at end, I do not wake up but go strait into another No-Win dream. And another, and another, and another. And I dream, and I dream, and I lose, and I lose. And I lose. Twelve hours. I dreamed and I lost for twelve hours. And every loss was real to me. I did not know I was dreaming.
"When I wake up in afternoon, I know. These losses are what I train for. Not the victory. The losses. I must study and learn so as to make inevitable losses count. All of them. Every single one. It's not a child's game... of avoiding loss. But an adult's responsibility to fight, hard, to prevent loss so when loss happens, it has meaning.
"You say Kobiashi Maru is test of character. Eta safsyem huinya! Simply the worst self deluded bullshit!" He pretended to spit on the carpet in disgust. "Test demonstrates reality of starship living." He pounded on the table to emphasize his points, "If you can't get in simulator knowing you will lose, will watch your friends and crew, and ship die horrible death before your eyes, and know it will be your fault, but give your all anyways and always... If this you can not do, walk in and take command and responsibility feeling these things deep in soul...then you have no place on real starship, with real dangers, real deaths, real consequences. You. Have. No. Right... And Academy has no right putting such children on Starships. None."
The two stared at each other a moment before the Rear Admiral spoke harshly, "Is that all, mister?"
The cadet did not flinch. "Da," he said at last.
"That is not how you reply to a superior officer, cadet."
Baskov snapped to attention in his seat, "No, sir! Yes, sir. I have finished, sir. Thank you, sir."
"That's more like it. One last question and then you can go... Do you still dream No-Win scenarios?"
"Sir, I do sir. But I never allow myself not to be aware I dream."
"Do you still take notes on those dreams? For the purpose of improving the simulator?"
"Sir, yes sir. Administrator Linden still appreciates my input, sir."
"Very well, cadet. You will be told the state of your graduation at the same time as your classmates. I should not have to tell you to keep this meeting confidential."
"Yes, sir. I understand, sir."
"Dismissed, cadet."
Senior Cadet Baskov sharply stood at attention and saluted, holding the salute until it was reciprocated. He turned smartly and left the room. The Rear Admiral stared seriously through the door for a moment after it closed and then focused back on her PADD. She stroked the screen and it scrolled to one side to show a face. "You heard?" she asked it.
"Everything," answered the face on the screen. "What do you think?" it inquired.
"I'd say he passed the Kobiashi Maru test, don't you think?"
"Yes. And it's about time."
"Better late than never," the Rear Admiral retorted. "Do you think he's over his obsession?" she asked.
"With that past? Not likely. Not for a while now."
"I agree. He's too serious. I think he's on his way to a break down. It might get ugly."
"Ugly? No, I don't think so. He's Russian. He'll internalize it. If he breaks down... When he breaks down... He won't be taking anyone with him."
She looked into the screen with a serious expression, "The question still remains, do we let him graduate?"
"I think so, yes," replied the face, "Keeping him here isn't going to do him any good and might do him harm. We should let him go. Let him figure things out for himself."
"I suppose so... I'll write up my psych report and send it to you to look at."
"Ok. I'll do the same. We'll compare notes in the morning."
"Sounds like a plan. Thanks for the help."
I've been working on a set of stories centered in the early 2380s. The cadet in the story below is one of the main characters in said series. However, this story is set back when he was about to graduate Star Fleet Academy in 2360.
I whipped this story out yesterday just to test the waters again --I've not written a line on the main set of stories in at least 9 months. Of course, that means I did not check to make sure there *is* a Friday 13th in August or September of 2359. So, that little detail may be just straight up wrong.
I also did not name any of the other three speaking characters. Basically, I didn't have any reference material and didn't want to make a stupid mistake as to who was what, when. Besides, names were not particularly important. I could have kept Baskov's name out, too, and it would have been basically the same. They're all non-descript characters, anyways.
Also, I was a bit lazy about writing just "Admiral" when I'm referring to a "Rear Admiral". But I've read it over several times and it's not confusing, so I've left it.
Ok. With no further ado, the story:
CADET BASKOV'S FINAL INTERVIEW
"Cadet Baskov. The Rear Admiral will see you now," the receptionist told him.
"Much thanks," the cadet replied as he quickly extricated himself from the luxurious couch in the reception hall. A Star Fleet Academy cadet was not usually called into an Admiral's office on the second-to-last week of his senior year unless it was both urgent and bad. Sergei Sanovavich Baskov was nervous.
He opened the door and saw the Admiral standing at the window of her office. He entered the room, shut the door behind him, walked two paces in, then stood at attention. He spoke crisply but not loudly, "Senior Cadet Baskov reporting as ordered, sir."
The Admiral responded quickly and quietly but did not move to turn into the room, "Have a seat, cadet. This is an informal meeting."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Baskov replied automatically as he sat at the comfy chair before the Admiral's desk.
"I've been reviewing your academy records Mr. Baskov," she began without preamble, "and there are several anomalies I would like you to explain to me." She turned her body slowly into the room. She did not look at him but, instead, at a PADD in her left hand that Baskov assumed was his complete Star Fleet file. "It says here you were born in Tunguska, Siberia and that you have not returned home these past four years except for very short visits. May I ask why."
"Sir, the climate is awful."
"Even in summer?"
"Sir, yes sir. The mosquitoes can grow to the wingspan of a swallow and they swarm in the millions. Surviving Siberian Summer is as difficult as surviving Siberian Winter."
"How about Spring or Fall?"
"Sir, there is two week window every Spring and Fall where Siberia climate is comfortable for human habitation. It is unfortunate that each year those weeks fall on different, random calendar days."
The Admiral smiled, not completely suppressing a chuckle, "I appreciate a tall tale as much as anyone else, but this is a fact finding meeting and I'd appreciate it if you kept the humor to a minimum."
"Sir, Siberian climate is deadly. I know not to make jokes of it." Boskov kept his manner and tone grave to be certain the Admiral understood he was being serious. "Antarctic survival training is very useful but I recommend supplementation with both Winter and Summer trainings in Siberia. It is that bad."
"My apologies, cadet, I thought you were kidding. I'll have to look into Siberian survival training... Now. It says here you kept your Academy dormitory during your first summer vacation. Why."
"Sir, I wanted to spend time studying in Academy Library."
"And what was the subject you studied most while you were here that summer?"
"Sir, the Kobiashi Maru test."
"The No-Win scenario."
"Sir, yes sir."
"Why?"
"Sir... I do not know... It is..." he struggled for the right word as he blew out a breath, inflating his cheeks to round hemispheres as he made a loud hissing sound. "Compelling," he finished at last.
"Compelling. To lose?"
"Sir! No, sir!" he said with vehemence but not volume.
"What, then?"
Sergei slumped his shoulders and sat back in his chair. He blew out another breath as he collected his thoughts but this time his cheeks did not bulge, his lower lip pouched out and the sound was only that of rushing air. As he breathed back in, his eyes broke contact with hers and stared beyond the carpeted floor to his left. He closed his eyes and pinched the corners of his eyes to the bridge of his nose. This was going to be hard to describe.
"Captain Kirk was great man; great Captain. But he was wrong," he began, fingers still on his eyes, "No-Win scenarios are real. They exist." He pulled his hand from his face and looked the Admiral in the eyes. "And when you find yourself in No-Win scenario... You. Lose. Nothing changes that. Only question is how much you lose. Your friends? Life? Crew? Ship? Entire planet? ... Depends." He looked away, "Always it depends." He shook his head and look down at his open hands for a moment.
"Rear Admiral, sir, I am no longer ignorant pleeb." He looked up at the woman across the desk, "I know what this is, so let's stop dicking around." The Admiral's face became harsh but he did not allow himself to be interrupted, "I am obsessed with Kobiashi Maru. And you wish to know if I have failure complex."
"Do you?"
"No, sir. I do not."
"You were near the top of your class your first three semesters. Then you acted as bridge crew aboard a Kobiashi Maru test and your grades plummeted."
"Yes, sir."
"Your grades continued to suck for the beginning of your Sophomore year and then they picked up considerably, and you managed to just pass. What happened."
"Boothby set me right: no grades, no Academy, no test."
"So you did your work to stay in the Academy in order to continue participating in the Kobiashi Maru."
"Yes, sir."
"In your Sophomore year, how many times did you participate in the test as a crew member?"
"One hundred thirty-five times, sir."
The Admiral looked at Baskov in confusion, "It says here sixty-two times."
"Yes, sir. I participated sixty-two times before I was banned. I then bypassed ban by signing up as different students."
"That isn't possible," the Admiral stated in automatic disbelief.
"There is always work-around for security protocol. It is matter of applying inverse logic. This is Russian speciality."
The Admiral glared at the cadet, first in astonishment, then in disbelief, then with anger. "You will divulge the methods you used."
"Sir, when I apprenticed to simulator in third summer, I fixed all security holes I used to bypass ban under complete supervision of director. Those fixes are on record. As is commendation for fixes."
"Those commendations can be expunged now that I know why you knew how to fix them."
"Again, no ignorant Pleeb am I. Ninty percent of security holes are fixed by cadets who used those same holes. Removing commendations would be the shooting of own foot."
"You are this close to me placing an official insubordination report in your file, cadet. Don't push me."
"Such official report would have to admit reasons for interaction, which would be counter to purpose of meeting. Don't threaten me with actions you will not commit... I know I passed all exams. I know I have fulfilled all requirements for graduation. Now you must prove me mentally unfit or not. You and I both know it must be done quietly. So don't treat me like durak. Crazy? Maybe. Quite possibly. But, durak? Nyet!"
"Alright, cadet," she answered dangerously, "have it your way. Your ban was lifted in the second semester of your Junior year. How many hours did you log in the simulator afterwards."
"At least three hours, and sometimes five hours every week for two semesters. I lost count but full hours are on file... More than any other cadet in history since Spock. This much I know."
"Considerably more... And this is how you got your internship on the simulator your third summer."
"Yes."
"And how did this happen?"
"I applied."
"Anything else?"
"Application included code for correcting several errors."
"And that's how you got your internship?
"Yes."
"Do you know Administrator Linden is a homosexual?"
"Yes. And so? ... You imply something?"
"Was he your lover?"
"Private affairs are not your business."
"So you two had an affair."
"No. And it is not your business."
"Unless the affair effects your performance."
"You have reason to believe it did?"
"It would go a long way to explaining your obsession."
"No. It wouldn't. My obsession for Kobiashi Maru preceded meeting of Jacobi --Administrator Linden-- by two years... Jacobi has preference for what is called "pretty boys". I am not pretty boy. I am Russian bear. I have preference for girls. Affair with Jacobi is affair for love of work. He is obsessed with programming for realism like I am obsessed with Kobiashi Maru. We worked together well."
"You and Jacobi Linden were never lovers."
"No. Never...And that is the last I say on subject." The Admiral's gaze exuded poisonous danger and Baskov was careful not to show any defiance in his eyes. But he was just as careful to show stubborn determination.
When the Rear Admiral continued it was with a tacit understanding the subject of Jacobi Linden was not closed but merely delayed. "How many times have you taken the Kobiashi Maru while Captaining the simulator?"
"Officially, sixteen times. Unofficially, sixty-one times, including thirty-two times to debug simulation as intern."
"Did you ever beat the simulation."
"Yes. Four times. But never legitimately. All were exploitation errors in simulation... I should specify: Each win was exploitation of different error."
"And you fixed these errors?
"Not all no... Em... Fourth error I find as Senior Cadet, not as simulation intern. So, forth error was fixed by another... Hopefully."
"Ok. Then let's move on to your Senior year. With the exception of your first few semesters, your grades up to this point were never stellar, never above the ninety percentile. And then, at the end of the first semester, your grades improved to the best in your class. What happened?"
"Finally. We are getting to core of issue. Friday, thirteen, I take second official Kobiashi Maru. Previous summer I work on test every day for six weeks: I wake up, I make code changes, make simulated runs, do error correction, make notes on improvements. I go to bed and I dream the simulation. Every night. I dream No-Win scenario. Always different. Always improvements. I wake up at end, take notes and then sleep to dream again. And again. And Again. Every. Night.
"I told myself I tried to find the essence of No-Win scenario. To find how can it be recognized, so as to avoid it, or modify it, or change circumstances. But it was game. Silly game for ignorant boy. [Sigh] Sometimes I knew I dreamed, sometimes I did not. But it was game. Not real. No consequence.
"And then Friday night. The thirteenth. I dream Kobiashi Maru. But this time it was not game. It was real. I experience people I love die. Badly. I experience my ship, my responsibility, destroyed. Ripped apart in destructive blasts of energy. And I know it was all my blame. When I wake up, it is 01:30 hours. When I am able to sleep, I dream it again but in different way. This time, at end, I do not wake up but go strait into another No-Win dream. And another, and another, and another. And I dream, and I dream, and I lose, and I lose. And I lose. Twelve hours. I dreamed and I lost for twelve hours. And every loss was real to me. I did not know I was dreaming.
"When I wake up in afternoon, I know. These losses are what I train for. Not the victory. The losses. I must study and learn so as to make inevitable losses count. All of them. Every single one. It's not a child's game... of avoiding loss. But an adult's responsibility to fight, hard, to prevent loss so when loss happens, it has meaning.
"You say Kobiashi Maru is test of character. Eta safsyem huinya! Simply the worst self deluded bullshit!" He pretended to spit on the carpet in disgust. "Test demonstrates reality of starship living." He pounded on the table to emphasize his points, "If you can't get in simulator knowing you will lose, will watch your friends and crew, and ship die horrible death before your eyes, and know it will be your fault, but give your all anyways and always... If this you can not do, walk in and take command and responsibility feeling these things deep in soul...then you have no place on real starship, with real dangers, real deaths, real consequences. You. Have. No. Right... And Academy has no right putting such children on Starships. None."
The two stared at each other a moment before the Rear Admiral spoke harshly, "Is that all, mister?"
The cadet did not flinch. "Da," he said at last.
"That is not how you reply to a superior officer, cadet."
Baskov snapped to attention in his seat, "No, sir! Yes, sir. I have finished, sir. Thank you, sir."
"That's more like it. One last question and then you can go... Do you still dream No-Win scenarios?"
"Sir, I do sir. But I never allow myself not to be aware I dream."
"Do you still take notes on those dreams? For the purpose of improving the simulator?"
"Sir, yes sir. Administrator Linden still appreciates my input, sir."
"Very well, cadet. You will be told the state of your graduation at the same time as your classmates. I should not have to tell you to keep this meeting confidential."
"Yes, sir. I understand, sir."
"Dismissed, cadet."
Senior Cadet Baskov sharply stood at attention and saluted, holding the salute until it was reciprocated. He turned smartly and left the room. The Rear Admiral stared seriously through the door for a moment after it closed and then focused back on her PADD. She stroked the screen and it scrolled to one side to show a face. "You heard?" she asked it.
"Everything," answered the face on the screen. "What do you think?" it inquired.
"I'd say he passed the Kobiashi Maru test, don't you think?"
"Yes. And it's about time."
"Better late than never," the Rear Admiral retorted. "Do you think he's over his obsession?" she asked.
"With that past? Not likely. Not for a while now."
"I agree. He's too serious. I think he's on his way to a break down. It might get ugly."
"Ugly? No, I don't think so. He's Russian. He'll internalize it. If he breaks down... When he breaks down... He won't be taking anyone with him."
She looked into the screen with a serious expression, "The question still remains, do we let him graduate?"
"I think so, yes," replied the face, "Keeping him here isn't going to do him any good and might do him harm. We should let him go. Let him figure things out for himself."
"I suppose so... I'll write up my psych report and send it to you to look at."
"Ok. I'll do the same. We'll compare notes in the morning."
"Sounds like a plan. Thanks for the help."
