Augustine Kir’s adolescent thesis, naturally, could not take into account creatures who did have hundreds of years to indulge.

Across the remainder of summer and partway into fall of her first year in Central, Roha’s life follows the track set by the Life Fountain Foundation. Day-long adjustment lessons at their community center twice a week, optional social events on weekends, and at least three days to do as they please, although check-in calls are made every evening to ensure the new citizen makes it home without incident.

Frequent tardiness aside, Roha is doing well. Reports say she is not overly motivated, but not resistant to lessons either. Nearly all of her free time is spent in her assigned home, sleeping.

Life Fountains are known for their lengthy sleeping patterns - as creatures with enormous overall lifespans, a full day or up to a week of sleep is not unusual - but most show an equally great affinity for food. The Foundation is often able to use catering options to keep newcomers active and social. While Roha can eat as much as the rest of them if meals are placed in front of her, she has much less interest in rising to chase down food when she can otherwise stay in bed.

Lis, one of Augustine Kir’s assistants, tells me that Kir believed Roha’s house, one in a grid of square, beige single-storeys units, too droll of a location for filming, and too far away from his apartment. The only other location where they could catch Roha, then, was the Foundation building in the city. She glosses over the fact that the AK Undercovers team had more than once followed Roha back to her home. Anyhow, I am told, that was the day it was supposed to be over for Roha, in terms of the space she occupied in Augustine’s life. He’d sleep with her, rate her, and gently toss her back into her daily routine.

The footage from that day makes it to the channel in pieces. This rankles Kir’s ever-impatient fanbase. Okay, we’ve got some nice tits and exposed leg, but where’s the review? Where’s the action? It’s a curious anomaly for the channel, and would be the first of many. But when I peruse the full video, drawn from a backup harddrive, I can see why Kir made the cuts that he did.

—

The sky is dark when filming begins. It is Lis behind the camera, watching Augustine loiter by the door of the Life Fountain Foundation building, a smallish concrete office block just outside the Central Hospital campus. He is dressed in a loose gray tee and sporting his usual, tousled stylings. It’s miles from the look he presented at the banquet, which might be why Roha walks out of the building and breezes right past him.

Hey! Hey, I know you, he prompts. He leans in close. She is mystified, but not daunted, and stops to face him. We met in the garden. By the museum, at the Life Fountain event.

Oh. Yes, the inspector.

The footage is a rehash of their first encounter, sans the undressing. He attempts to make small talk, interspersed with flattery. Again she resists effortlessly, but makes no attempt to leave. She is actually smiling, a blank and lethargic expression that seems to be directed over Augustine’s shoulder.

Like a predator, Lis tells me in the interview.

It appears more likely that she will doze off. Augustine Kir winds down his offensive, perplexed. It is then that Roha asks, are you okay?

What?

You’re sweating. You look unwell. It’s another warm day, isn’t it. Do you need to take something off? She reaches a hand forward and hesitates. Ah, but no buttons…

It takes him (and me) a moment to realize what she’s saying - she is echoing his advice from the night they met, only he’s the one flushed. His efforts to shift this immovable object have just been thrown back at him. He bursts into laughter.

Mr Kir?

You really are something, babe. Give me a moment. He wipes tears from his eyes.

There is something oddly uncanny about the scene. Augustine Kir has an actor’s laugh - modified perfectly for time, place and person. He has lit up many a girl’s faces, and sent others away blue-cheeked with rage and melancholy. But here, the laughter is genuine, and uncomfortably, confusingly disarming. He appears oddly vulnerable, even more so with Roha just watching, uncomprehendingly over his head, as he doubles up. Unable to stand the farce, assistant Lis braces the camera and moves in.

Augy, she says, what’s so funny?

This girl is a treat, Lis. Augustine does not falter at her appearance. He actually seems to regain composure. They’ll love her.

Then let’s go! Should we start with drinks? Lis’s tone is saccharine.

Sure. If you can, of course. Augustine turns to Roha with a look of deep consideration. Don’t worry about cash. Only thing I’m worried about - that old man, Cadmus - is he gonna, you know, pitch a fit? Get mad? I don’t know what you are and aren’t allowed to do. Wouldn’t want to get you in trouble…

For drinking.

Or going out, yeah.

I have time. Roha looks upward in thought. You mean, alcohol.

Yes. This answer comes from behind the camera. Lis is growing impatient.

Cadmus did give a caution. Roha pauses. The smile has not wavered for a moment. I must warn you that I may drink far more than you can.

That’s what I like to hear. Augustine is back to his standard leering. Though Roha has phrased it oddly, this is the sort of challenge he likes from the girls. I’ll be expecting you to follow through with that threat, you know.

Lis hurries to move things along. If we catch the bus to town now, we can make it to the party they’re having at the Market tonight. It’s wild. Everyone will be there. They’ll love to meet you-

For the first time, Roha withdraws. Everyone? Oh, no, I’m not fond of the noise. It’s a challenge, but I must not put others at risk. She appears to have her words confused. I must not risk myself.

You know what, I’m not a fan of that place either. Kir puts a hand on his shoulder. Nothing wrong with liking things small and intimate. My place is close by. Not much of a stash there, but I do have wine.

Lis sputters for a few moments, proposing different places, different people. Finally, she concedes, says she’ll come back to the apartment and help with the usual - meaning film the sex scenes. But Kir, one arm looped around his new prize, scoops the camera from her hands, and she is forcibly dismissed.

‘I didn’t want him to be alone with her,’ Lis tells me from her home in the suburbs. She blushes furiously. ‘I could just sense something was wrong...’

‘Jealous bitch,’ Vira snickers.

—

Nearly three hours later, at 8:20pm, two of the bedroom cameras are switched on. Augustine Kir inspects them close-up, his face red and eyes bloodshot. He takes a few woozy steps back, and almost trips on nothing. He is clearly drunk out of his mind.

She was right, he says. She really can pack it in.

There is a mess of bottles decorating the sideboard - they’ve used up his whole stash, we are later told. Roha sits on the bed with the same, neutral smile she came in with. Both of them are still fully clothed. Kir staggers his way over to the bed and collapses on top of her. The move is not quite successful as her first inclination is to put him down on the pillows. Augustine musters the strength to pull her down with him.

Fabric shuffles, bed springs squeak, and there are some breathy vocalizations. Augustine’s sopping shirt is thrown to the wayside and his hand gathers up her voluminous skirt. Then suddenly, with a gargle, he rolls off the bed.

Augustine makes a dash from the room - presumably for the toilet. Roha waits patiently in the half-lit room, chest rising and falling. Her pale hair fans out like a halo and with the skirt settling back over the covers, she is still fully dressed.

Some guttural grunts and retching can be heard from the hall.

At 9:45, Augustine Kir swaggers back into the room, having made some attempt to clean himself up. His face is a bit less red, a bit more green. He once again falls onto his hapless target and the kissing and groping begins anew. But the intensity is gone. He pauses, leans in close, then pauses again.

Then he sits up, facing the camera with a tired frown. She’s fucking asleep.

He shoots a hateful glare at her prone form, a fist balling the bedsheets. For a terrible moment he might be considering punishing her for this insolence. But his stomach steps in and he makes another run for the bathroom.

At 9:51, a loud crack is heard from off-camera followed by an unearthly moan.

At 10:02, Augustine Kir drags himself into the bedroom, stumbling about on all fours, bleeding profusely. Across his face there is an enormous red streak, blood streaming from a wound on his forehead. Blood also appears to be spilling from his mouth, bubbling as he claws his way toward the bed, attempting to pull himself upright. He succeeds, but only for a moment.

Thud. Bottles are sent clattering. The camera stands are knocked to the ground, and the remainder of the footage is dark. But his voice can be heard, a tiny, pitiful wail.

Roha… babe… Roha, please. I fell.

If Roha does wake up, she does not say anything. There is the sound of fabric and a few soggy gasps that peter off into silence.

—

6:25 am. Augustine Kir uprights the cameras. Damn, this thing’s still on.

Harsh sunlight can be seen in the slit between the curtains. Kir sets the camera down and gazes into it, as if asking it for answers. Though a bit bleary, his face is as freshly washed and smooth as a baby’s.

Have a hell of a headache, but maybe less than I deserve. How much did I drink? I don’t know what happened last night. I woke up covered in blood, and –

The gravity of what he’s said dawns on him and he hurtles onto the bed, struggling to untangle Roha’s hair, dress, limbs from the bloodstained covers. He throws the red wad of blankets to the floor. Then his hands move all over her; face, neck, arms and stomach. He pulls at her clothes, checking underneath, but sex seems to be the last thing on his mind in this moment. Roha flops in his arms, lifeless as a ragdoll. He has reason to be terrified.

One hand half-cupping her face and his head pressed against her chest, he finally finds what he’s looking for. A pulse, breath. The relief turns him to jelly and he flops over on his back, next to her.

He ponders quietly for a few minutes, then pulls himself back up and detaches the camera from its metal post. Roha is now center stage, in what one might call an appropriate state of undress for AK Undercovers. He clears his throat and makes a grab for normalcy, his old sense of control.

Well, we did it, folks. The goddess is down. A beauty, isn’t she? Well, it’s time to take what’s ours.

He attempts to salvage the video by beginning his ‘review process’ anew. But all erotic atmosphere has evaporated with the night. Most of the following ten minutes is spent trying to coax her awake, shaking her clothes, whispering and wheedling. In these moments of nervous futility, he appears almost childlike.

Finally, he gives up, and comes to sit at the foot of the bed, facing the camera. He folds his hands and says nothing.

It isn’t the goddess who looks vanquished. At the center of the bed behind him, cocooned in hair and skirts Roha snores without a care in the world.

Kir smiles and mutters, seemingly to himself.

You know the crazy thing? I actually feel pretty good.

He combs a hand through his copper hair, dislodging a shower of neon-blue residue.

—

‘It was so obvious. The idiot drank too much trying to outdo her,’ Vira sighs when I tell her about the footage. ‘Yeah, he made us watch the whole thing. He was so proud, for who knows what reason.’

Investigators theorize that a heavily intoxicated Kir passed out over his bathroom sink and knocked his head on the counter - hard. The following impact with the floor made him bite his tongue which filled his mouth with blood. He made it back to the room and lost consciousness.

If Roha awoke anytime during the night, she did not make a sound, but there was little doubt she had something to do with Kir’s seemingly inexplicable recovery. Remnants of Roha’s aura falling from his scalp in the morning make for damning evidence, on film no less. Life Fountain aura had long been known to have beneficial - if occasionally uncontrollable - effects for human health. Miracle healing was never out of the question - it is actually what Life Fountains first became known for. Seal up skin, knit bone, and slowly patch up a bruised brain. Today, we know that’s all possible. Recent studies also show that careful exposure to aura are an effective remedy for hangovers.

They can’t cure everything, of course. And not all Life Fountains possess the careful application to safely do what is known to be possible. So Kir was extremely lucky. He had much to be grateful for.

He soon caught on. Although, not immediately.

—

Some kind of fungus. Look, it’s growing back.

It is some hours later - long enough for the memory card of the camera to be swapped out and for Kir to become bored enough to clean the room. But Roha is still deep in dreamland. Having resigned himself to letting her sleep, Augustine amuses himself by digging up a larger mound of the blue, glowing substance. He says the stuff appeared in her hair, on her skin. The ball he has now is about the size of a grape, and it sits on his hand, its light flickering faintly. He waggles his tongue suggestively.

What do you think? Give it a taste?

Roha is certainly not about the protest, so he does just that. The globule caves slightly, then deflates, disintegrating into a blueish-grey dust. Augustine coughs and fans the air in front of him.

Ugh! Remind me not to do that again.

This mostly-innocuous video is the only segment recorded over the course of those two days which makes it onto the channel. Viewers are disgruntled. There is no review, no thrusting and grunting and squealing and no blurred-face full-frontal nudity. As one commenter says, I bet you didn’t even fuck her.

The commenter is right, of course. The video attempts to be ambiguous, but Kir’s attitude speaks volumes. He’s defensive. He’s acting foolish. He’s trying to be cute. But, his fans reason, he’s keeping her around. She hasn’t fulfilled her purpose. The best is yet to come.

Kir keeps most of the footage of their first night together under wraps - after all, they didn’t really spend it together in a way that fits the channel. It’s also, frankly, horrifying to see him slide into the bedroom covered in blood, seemingly ignored as he weeps for help. Definitely not on-brand.

And we cannot discount the fact that the snoozing, moon-faced creature on his bed had already come to mean something different to him. Something that eclipsed his channel and would soon dwarf every other aspect in his life. Having devoted his entire adulthood to putting every part of himself on show, perhaps Augustine Kir had finally found something he didn’t want to share.