This is Chapter 32 of The Final Product, you may want to go back to Chapter 31 or start at the beginning.

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The story Jane teeped was full of dramatic images and high emotions. The crew of the Investigator (except of course for the Chinese) appeared heroic, sublime even. It became a triumph of humanity in the face of overwhelming odds. Their victory was in not giving up, even though there was no reason to hope. In the end she placed rather more blame on Trim than the Chinese, but by far the most memorable scene was when Franklin sat on the floor, surrounded by the dead bodies of his friends and so near despair, and slowly, painfully ate the leather of his boots to keep himself alive. Jane managed to capture in startling reality the taste of something redolent of feet, and the intensely chewy nature of eating it. The story was wildly popular, sweeping across the planet.

Welles knew when she had been beaten. The public outcry had only just begun, when Welles contacted Jane.

‘I can’t stand the thought of such a loving couple being separated any longer,’ she teeped. ‘Let me know where you are, and I’ll send a helicopter to pick you up and bring you to your husband.’

Jane was not used to attention in any large quantity, and Welles contacting her personally was even more unsettling to her. And so she did not consider the ease with which she had come to her victory, nor the grave import of the matter.

Jane did not find it strange that the other people on the helicopter were of a decidedly militaristic appearance. She did not question when they brought her to a prison, or when they asked her to empty her pockets.

Jane was led into a small room. There were no windows. The walls and ceiling were covered in what looked like tin foil. Jake finally began to suspect that something was amiss when she noticed that the floor was covered with tin foil as well.

She waited int eh tin foil room for a very long time; several hours at least. The door opened at last and Welles entered.

‘Well, there’s the cunt,’ said Welles. ‘How do you like our little teep-proof cage?’

‘I’m sorry?’ said Jane. ‘Where’s my husband?’

‘Look, honey, I don’t know what you think is going on here, but what I think is that you completely ruined my plans, and now I’m going to make you pay for it.’

In such a situation, you might imagine that Jane would have been terrified, but it seems her primary emotion was frustration. That teeping was the source of the trap in which she now found herself was a great injustice. When she turned to Welles, there was not a drop of blood in her face,¹ and Jane answered as if she were insane.²

‘I don’t know if it’s a marvel or a monster, but I can tell you that it isn’t natural, and I never wanted to teep.³ I didn’t even really want to see Franklin again. The only reason I did any of this was that I felt like such an awful piece of shit doing what I wanted while he was going through so much.’

Remembering her own choice between familial duty and ambition that had been the beginning of so much in her life, Welles had great compassion for Jane, who had not been able to make the same bold choice.⁴

And so she said, ‘Honey, I’ve had a change of heart. You may not believe this, but I’ve been in your shoes. I know how you feel. So, let’s just forget about all this. You’re free to go.’

‘I’d like to see my husband,’ said Jane.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’

Perhaps you think Welles was foolish in this. To let all her so carefully laid plans for a reserve free of all Alien influence be jeopardized by what amounted to mere sentimentality. Pay attention to the rest of the tale, for it may work out better than you expect.⁵

‘Very well,’ said Welles. And then she added, ‘But I will tell you this, the next time you have to choose between duty and ambition, stick with your dreams. Also: if you ever tell anyone about this, I’ll have you killed.’⁶

Chapter 33 tomorrow, same time, same place.

In al hir face nas a drope of blood. Geoffrey Chaucer, The Franklin’s Tale 1392 ↩
And she answerde, half as she were mad. Geoffrey Chaucer, The Franklin’s Tale 1392 ↩
She wende nevere have come in swich a trappe/ ‘Alas!’ quod she, ‘that evere this sholde happe!/ For wende I nevere by possibilitiee/ that swich a monstre or merveille might be!/ It is agains the process of nature!’ Geoffrey Chaucer, The Franklin’s Tale 1392 ↩
And in his herte hadde greet compassioun/ O fhire and of hir lamentacioun. Geoffrey Chaucer, The Franklin’s Tale 1392 ↩
Paraventure an keep of yow, ywys,/ Wold holden him a lewd man in this,/ That he wol putte his wife in jupartye../ Herkneth the tale er ye upon hire crye/ She may have bettre fortune than yow semeth;/ And when that ye han herd the tale demeth. Geoffrey Chaucer, The Franklin’s Tale 1392 ↩
And seide, ‘I yow forbede, up peine of deeth,/ That nevere, whil thee lasteth lif ne breeth,/ To no wight tel thow of this aventure. Geoffrey Chaucer, The Franklin’s Tale 1392 ↩

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Footnotes