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The last fight had gotten so loud people on the Shatterdome floor were complaining about noise. Things had been thrown, chalkboards had been defaced, and both Newton and Gottlieb were spattered in specimen jar fluids, that vomit-colored preservative that stank of ammonia and sunbaked roadkill. Stacker had sat them six feet apart, glaring from one to the other. They refused to look at each other.
"I cannot even begin to explain how many other things I could be doing right now," he said. “I have a stack of folders on my desk that’s over four feet high. The expense report I have to read through and sign off on could kill a man if I dropped it from the proper height."
Gottlieb glanced up at the Marshall in discomfort, fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt. Newt was a picture of bravado, slouching in his chair, though Stacker made him flinch visibly just by looking at him.
"So, bearing that in mind," he said, walking through the wide space between them and turning on his heel. “Explain, gentlemen, why I am here. Playing mediator. To you."
Ten seconds ticked by in tense silence. It broke with a soft gutteral sound, and suddenly Gottlieb was exploding.
"That, that kaiju-grubbing, uncivilized bastard has taken things too far!" he hissed, pointing at Newt accusingly. “He mocks my theories, he flings his samples everywhere - kaiju blood isacidic and carcinogenic! But does he care? No! He threw louse guts all over my chalkboard!"
"Oh, I’m sorry about your chalkboard, HERMANN," Newt said, throwing his arms up to the heavens in appeal. “I was aiming for the back of your head!"
"Why?" Stacker said. Newt slouched deeper into the chair.
"Because he called me a stupid drooling moron that loves kaiju too much."
"My exact words were ‘uneducated slobbering lout that ought to marry kaiju if he loves them so much’," Gottlieb muttered. Newt huffed, gesturing helplessly to Stacker.
"I can’t work with this guy anymore. He’s a calculator-monkey. No vision. No love!"
"I tend not to love monstrosities with carcinogenic bodily fluids!"
"Carcinogenic, carcinogenic, y’know Hermann no one is impressed by how many big words you know-"
“QUIET!"
The scientists jolted, looking up at the Marshall. He pinched the bridge of his nose as though staving off a migraine - or a nosebleed - and sighed deeply.
"We have bigger things on our plates than petty arguments and temper tantrums," he said, schooling his voice to calm. “For example: I have to deal with Chuck Hansen. Do you realize, beyond any expense report or spat of namecalling, what that does to my nerves?"
Stacker picked up a discarded lump of kaiju entrails, gingerly putting the glob of flesh into a kidney pan.
"You’re both the finest scientific minds I have," he continued, wiping his hands clean with his handkerchief. “You’re the only ones I have. And I need you to pull together and get over your incredible egos for at least five minutes. Because the next step from mediating is me throwing you both out into the middle of the ocean to use as bait, right over the Breach. Find at least one thing you like about each other. Right now."
His expression was so deadly serious, neither man was sure he wasn’t joking. Gottlieb coughed awkwardly.
"Newton, you…have…a very. Er. Enthusiastic…way of dissecting specimens."
"Uh. Th..thanks. And the way you arrange your chalk by length so that they…uh, go from lowest to highest. That’s…really orderly. Good job, Hermann."
Stacker nodded slightly, stepping over a pile of books and the remains of a skin louse.
"Excellent. Keep up the camaraderie. And clean up this mess."
The tension eased slightly as the Marshall left the room, and Newt gave Gottlieb a sidelong glance.
"Sorry I threw the louse, man. Dick move."
"Quite. But…bygones, yes?"
"Y…yeah. Bygones."