The ship arranged by Opal Hardwind on Lucas' behalf stands ready to go out with the evening tide. The captain is waiting and the sailors are on deck, as if for an inspection by the royals who will be travelling with them. All is shipshape and prepared to go.
[Who arrives? What gear do you have? Do you bring any servants or people with you?]
After verifying the identity of the ship, Solange, accompanied by a man with blond hair cut in a short military style, walks up the gangplank and onto the deck.
Solange has donned for the occasion a black pea coat, white shirt tied loosely at the throat, green dungarees (perhaps to the raised eyebrows of the crew who are not used to seeing women in pants), and black boots. The man wears a cableknit grey sweater, denim jeans, and brown boots. Both have backpacks slung over one shoulder, two rolled maps sticking out of the top of Solange's,
The man gazes around the dock curiously, taking it all in. He's about a head taller than Solange, medium build, grey eyes a few shades lighter than his sweater, and a strong profile.
Familiar with the docks since she was a child, having accompanied Gerard here on numerous occasions, Solange instead focuses her attention on the ship and crew. She would expect them both to be top-of-the-line, as she doubts Lucas would settle for anything less, but regardless runs a practiced eye over the accommodations as she looks for her trunk that was supposed to be delivered earlier in the afternoon. [The trunk is about two-and-a-half feet high and wide by four feet long and has a combination lock. Inside are clothes for both her and the man, assorted toiletries, books to read, two swords and a number of throwing knives, a well-stocked medical kit, and several bottles of fine, aged whisky.]
The sound of pipes while she is inspecting the cabins suggests that someone else is boarding. It is Lucas, and his first action is to survey the sailors who have been drawn up as if for inspection.
Lucas is dressed in dark blue - an understated sailor rig. Beneath the slightly blouson topmost layer can be glimpsed a tee-shirt with blue and white stripes. The trouser are a little flared - not quite outrageous bell-bottoms. He is, as ever, elegantly impeccable, but the outfit is also practical.
As he pauses for a few moments for a more prolonged introduction to the Captain and whichever senior officers the Captain wishes to bring to his attention, the porters that Lucas has hired begin to bring his gear aboard. Several trunks worth of gear, it appears; Lucas has travelled from Paris to Indochina in days of yore and from Bombay to London. He intends to be no less well equipped on this trip.
His trunks also contain clothes - rather more than Solange and her companion together have brought; books; paper; oilskins for protecting goods; shaving gear; waders; galoshes; a lifebelt; a cork lifejackaet; a supply of good coffee and a spirit stove of ingenious design; several crates of wine; an assortment of fresh fruit - including limes; several bottles of rum; the equipment for playing deck quoits; sevaral folding chairs (including one deck chair and a lounger); shades and parasols; several boxes of biscuits - including Bath Olivers; a medical kit; a collection of herbal and essential oil preparations that can be used for medicine, for culinary preparations, for repelling a variety of insects and for aromatherapy of various kinds; several rapiers; a tenor saxophone; some rope; a picnic hamper; a hurricane lamp and a supply of oil; a cocktail shaker; a tool kit; a sketch book and a box of water colours; a guide to astronomy and several telescopes, together with a set of rather fine mathematical instruments; and a rather startled looking parrot in a gilded cage.
Lucas is extremely affable with the Captain and such of the crew as he chances to meet; these people will be responsible for his creature comforts for some little time - and Lucas regards anyone entrusted with that sacred chore as worthy of due attention.
Lilly is the last to board. There is no fanfare. No sound of pipes. In fact, the only sounds at all come from the young boy that has accompanied her. He carries a small trunk filled with the basic necessities, clothes, toiletries, a few basic tools, the items she needs to keep her weapons in perfect condition, a good knife, a water skin, her katana. Everything, with the exception of a pair of thick towels, is practical.
Like Solange, she also wears pants. Her outfit is decidedly more militaristic however. Black boots, black trousers, black shirt. Only a bit of red trim on the collar of the shirt breaks the monotony. Everything is designed for ease of movement and long wear. At her hip she wears her blade.
For the moment, Lilly maintains a very business like demeanor. Once a cabin has been assigned, and her things are stowed away, she will seek out Lucas.
The ship is well accoutered and the crew seems to know what they are doing. A junior officer tells each of the royals that the ship is prepared to sail upon the evening tide and that they should ask any sailor for anything they need.
[Anything else you do before settling in for a sea voyage of a few days? Feel free to talk to each other or the crew.]
After verifying her trunk was delivered, handing off the maps detailing where the wreck was found to someone important, and stowing their backpacks in their cabins, Solange confirms with the junior officer how much time there is between now and the evening tide.
"Should be just after dark, Ma'am..." [That's about as precise as timekeeping gets in Amber.]
Lilly is busy talking to Lucas and Solange will have more than enough time in the upcoming days to get to know the ship they're on, so she suggests to Kyril that they do some sightseeing on the docks before leaving. She'll play tour guide, pointing out interesting things to him and relating stories of her own trips to the docks with her father when she was younger.
They'll show back up just in time to depart.
Whoever comes to call upon Lucas will find him engaged in arranging his cabin. Well, to be more accurate, in overseeing the arrangement of his cabin. Lucas has two of the more aesthetically pleasing of the ship's company arranging his cabin in order to give it that indefinable air of grace and elegance that any environment Lucas claims as a temporary chez moi always has. If Lucas were to find himself confined in a dungeon, one feels, even the turnkeys would be impressed by the pictureque arrangement of the mouldy straw he would manage.
Having the rather more salubrious appointments of a rather nice cabin to work with, Lucas has contrived to create a living space that is neat, surprisingly comfortable and undeniably stylish. A painting of Solace, Phillippe in her arms and Hope holding her skirts, is displayed on the wall, and Lucas is correcting its exact placement. When any cousin walks in, Lucas smiles and dismisses the sailors.
Lilly's expression as she takes in her surroundings is a cross between horrified and amused. She can not imagine being that materialistic. Not as long as her sanity is in tact. But Lucas... Well she can not imagine Lucas being any other way. Still she liked him. And not just despite it, but because of it.
"Coffee?" he says, indicating the spirit stove and the attendant pot. "You know ... I really cannot believe I forgot the cleft sticks. We shall have to contrive something with spars, I believe."
Lilly is not entirely sure what he is talking about but decides it is best not to ask. "Coffee would be fine," she answers. "But don't go out of your way. I usually drink it black."
"My own choice," says Lucas. "And so much more practical when undertaking a sea voyage, don't you think? Of course, I have known ships that keep cows. but never a wholly successful endeavour, one feels. A few chickens, on the other hand .. "
She smiles as she thinks about a hold full of cows. Definitely impractical. It is amazing Lucas is not all for the idea.
He passes the cup of strong black coffee to Lilly. A wave of an elegant hand suggests she should help herself to sugar if she desires.
By black, Lilly means black. She savors it full force.
And then Lucas' dark eyes are regarding her with quizzical amusement over the rim of his own coffee cup.
"And so," he says, "to what do I owe this delightful visit? I trust all is well with your accommodation?"
She takes a sip of her coffee before answering. "It's fine, of course. More then I need really. I have not come to you complain, if that's what you are worried about," she teases.
"No," her tone becomes more serious. "I just thought perhaps we should talk. Maybe now would be a good time to share the itinerary?" Curiosity really is one of her major weaknesses.
"Ah," says Lucas. "The exact details of that are in Solanges's hands. She was doing all the preparatory navigation work while I was acting as the supercargo." He looks around with simple pleasure. "And I must say, I do not feel my endeavours were in vain.
"Our eventual destination will, of course, be Xanadu. But our passage will explore the rather more scenic route. In particular, we were thinking of seeing if we could find any trace of a rather mysterious disappearance that occurred during the Regency. Various people - including some noble families - left Amber claiming to be fleeing visions of an apocalyptic future. Solange and I thought we might see if we could find any trace of them."
Lilly nods, "Interesting. One moment," she places her coffee on a nearby table. Then she does something most unexpected, she stands and removes her sword belt. Carefully she places it on the floor beside her chair. Once done, she allows herself to relax and sit comfortably. The coffee is retrieved and she takes another sip before continuing, "Sorry. Now then...
"Do you have a plan for finding them or our we relying on luck and pattern?"
Lucas has watched her actions - at first startled, then almost shocked - and finally deeply appreciative.
"The plans," he says, "will to some extent depend on what Solange has found, and which charts she has brought ...our journey will almost undoubtedly take us through Shad ... "
He breaks off, and his eyes move from the sword at her feet to Lilly, sitting so serene and relaxed before him.
"You honour me," he says softly.
Lilly blushes. "I trust you," she answers quietly. There might be more to say but she allows herself a demure smile.
"Thank you," he says - although there is perhaps something troubled in the faint creases around the corners of his eyes.
She shifts in her seat. "So, as you were saying... Solange has charts and will be taking the lead. Sounds good. Anything else I should know?"
"Nothing that occurs to me at the moment," he says. "Is there anything else you want to ask me?"
Lilly smiles, "Nothing that occurs to me at the moment.
"Nothing of importance anyway. I trust we will lots of time to talk during this voyage. No point in saying everything right now, is there?" She stills for a moment, studying him. After a moment, she appears satisfied.
"Perhaps I should be off. There is lots of ship to explore. I like to know my surroundings. If you have need of me, just send word."
"A more than generous offer," says Lucas. "And may I return it in kind? If you should have need of me for any reason - perhaps to bestow that certain je ne sais quoi on the fittings you find in your cabin - just send word ... preferably by means of that rather dashing young and more than able seaman with the pouting underlip."
Lilly has no idea what to make of that so she simply chooses to ignore it for the most part. "I'll see what I can do."
Lucas smiles.
In a moment, she very deftly retrieves her sword, stands and fastens the belt about her waist once more. Once all is well, she turns to Lucas and smiles gently. "Thank you," Lilly says in a near whisper before heading for the door.
"I trust we'll supply you with the ... ah ... experience you desire, Lilly," Lucas says with equal softness as she leaves the room.
[Solange and Kyril] arrive back at the ship right before it's ready to depart. Solange seeks out the captain in order to introduce herself to him, and to introduce him to his new ship's doctor. She keeps an eye out for Lucas, wanting to talk to him after business with the captain is concluded.
Lucas is on the deck.
He has changed, Solange can see - at least in his dress - which is a little more dashing than he wore earlier. He is wearing rather tight fitting dark blue jeans, rolled up his legs a little, rope-soled sandals, and a boat necked navy and white narrow striped tee-shirt, with a navy kerchief noted around his throat at a perfectly exquisite angle.
(OOC - the style reference here would be Stewart Grainger playing a pirate in a 1950s Gainsborough movie)
He is is conversation with a group of sailors. He appears to be showing them how to tie knots - an innocent occupation, one would think, if a trifle otiose where the sailors are concerned. But they seem to be interested in the quick and deft movements of his hands, and as he jerks two ends of rope at one point, a roar of slightly ribald laughter goes up.
Solange approaches the group of sailors and politely waits until Lucas notices her. She raises her eyebrows at him and jerks in a direction off to the right with her chin, asking to talk to him alone.
Lucas notices, and acknowledges her signal with a small nod. He brings his discussion with the sailors to a cheerful end, handing a rather strange (and possibly libidinous) rope formation over to a suddenly-bashful sailor, and then moves to join Solange on the secluded portion of the deck she has chosen.
"So sweet of you to have brought leavening for our dough," he says, with a glance in Kyril's direction.
Solange follows his glance, then looks back at him. A small smile graces her lips.
"Someone who hasn't yet heard all my anecdotes at the dinner table must, of course, be an advantage. Fresh meat - always a treat on a long sea voyage. Although I am just a touch hurt that the company of moi solus was not felt to be enough."
Lucas doesn't look hurt, though. He looks amused.
"Ah, Lucas, you will always have that special place in my heart." Her smile widens. "I'd have thought that the obstacle course involved in trying to seduce a cousin who can kill you in no less than a hundred separate ways--and that's just with her hands--would be distraction enough for you."
"Challenges," murmurs Lucas. "Ah ... challenges."
"My companion is...a very old friend. Be nice to him--he's our ship's doctor and you may end up needing his services."
Lucas' hand half lifts, involuntarily, towards his multilated ear. Frowning a fraction, he lowers it again, and contents himself with a tight nod.
Solange shifts her weight, and with it shifts the topic of conversation.
"I had some problems finding out the location of the wreck. It will be known by Uncle Random at least that we're looking for it." She shrugs. "I'm not the most experienced person at deception and deceit. Unfortunately, it's too easy to read my face."
"But what a charming one it is to read too," says Lucas, moving effortlessly into charm mode. "A lyric by Yeats, I would say. Have you ever read Yeats?"
She raises an eyebrow at him.
"One of the advantages of wandering Shadow is that anyone with half a memory can very easily pose as a poet of note, simply by a judicious preocess of sampling, coupled with a moderate amount of bluff ... "
Then he gives another little frown. "A shame," he says. "About the information leaking out. It would have been good to keep our destination a little more masked. But ... c'est la vie."
He attends once more as she continues.
"Regardless, here we are, setting sail for parts unknown. Once we get to the location of the wreck, what do you propose then? A spiral course outwards, looking for any signs of the Paresh?"
"That," he says, "will depend in part on the location of the wreck. What do the charts tell you?"
To someone who can read naval maps, it tells of a location several weeks sail to the north where a shipwreck was found. The author evidently thought it is in near-shadow along a natural shadow-path, because the notes are very explicit about where to follow the coast and at what distance at sea.
Solange relays the information to Lucas. "Or, rather than the spiral course outwards, we could try to follow the shadow-path, if there is one... Thoughts?"
Lucas nods slowly. "A lot depends on what we find when we get there. Logically, any survivors of a shipwreck will have gone ashore and built themselves those rather fetching bamboo stockades while they hunted wild pig ... wild pig seems a staple of all the best desert islands, don't you know? So I would think any spiral, crossing Shdow or not, should start with a landward sweep ... If, of course, the land is not inimically hostle.
"One comforting thing - the wreck was discovered, by those who returned to tell the tale ... which suggests that we would not have to be in the uncomfortable position of following the path of the Paresh exactly in order to learn what became of them."
Solange nods in return. "Sounds reasonable. You're right, we'll just have to wait and see.
"So, what have you told Lilly?" Solange asks.
Lucas admires the shine on his fingernails - surely the result of hours of buffing.
"I gave her version lite - I may have been a little economical with la verite. But, sweet cos, I felt it to be a topic that might be more amiably introduced after dinner as she and you trip to the little girls' room together - ah, we must call them 'the heads' now, must we not? - while your amoureau and I are left to eye each other over the port. Hmmm. Brandy, perhaps. A good soft port may not take well to the alarums and excursions of a lively voyage. Or do you suppose a gentleman is expected to drink - quelle horreur - rum?"
"That works for me," Solange replies, referring to Lilly and ignoring his musings about drink. "By the way, we're not lovers. We're old friends, as I said, in the process of reacquainting ourselves." Color rises faintly on her cheeks, perhaps not noticeable in the fading light of early evening.
Lucas smiles. "And one more vulgar than myself might wonder why you feel the need to specify that to me."
Solange frowns. "It was your use of the term 'amoureau.'"
Lucas' eyebrows lift fractionally. "Amoureau? Forgive me, but I would define that as an old sweetheart, who one is no longer enamored with, but who one now loves as a very good friend."
He pauses to remove a scrap of lint from his sleeve.
"Perhaps you misheard me, sweet cos. One would hate to think it was ... something of a sensitive issue with you."
His dark eyes lift to look at her, amused.
Her color is definitely high now--no mistaking it. "Sensitive issue? Of course not. Why would it be?" she says flatly. "Really, Lucas, you can be so tactless sometimes."
She turns to leave, her expression clouded, and occupies herself with looking out over the railing at a position as far from both Lucas and Kyril as she can manage.
The ship is, at last, ready and the tide is right. The captain nods and sailors move to his commands. It is clearly a skilled crew, but perhaps they haven't sailed together. Not many ships have sailed recently.
The purser, however provides excellent table service and knows exactly what vintages of wine are available and, when he learns the trio's tastes in coffee and other delicacies, does not forget.
[OOC: a few weeks at sea--what do you each do? What would you like to play out?]
Solange would like to:
...talk with Lilly re: their plans to find the Paresh
...offer to help Lilly through her first attempts at shadowshifting
spar with whoever is willing and work on her swordplay (it's a bit rusty)
...talk with Kyril and cover the topics of Gerard's legs, the Sundering and Patternfall War, her extended family (filling him in on names, relationships, and offspring), and what he's been up to in the intervening years
...develop a more pragmatic response to the inevitable questions and comments about Kyril
I'm happy to either run through threads or summarize--whatever is most convenient for everyone.
Lucas enters wholeheartedly and agreeably into the life of the ship. (OOC - I think, when Lucas and Solange were played by Other People, they made a trade voyage together? So Solange will have seen Lucas in action before). He listens with interest to the tales of the sailors, asking gently probing questions about the area of coast they are headed for, but in such a friendly fashion that the sailors should (considering Lucas' talents) be willing to talk to him. In the evenings, he is the most charming acquisition to the wardroom with (when the ladies are not present) just the right degree of saltiness in his own stories.
He also sets himself out to cultivate Kyril, telling him tales of Amber that are not really that far-fetched - but sufficiently mind-boggling that they might have Kyril tentatively checking details with Solange. Other tales (such as accounts of the delights of the Red Mill) Kyril might forbear to mention.
Lucas will spar with Solange, nothing too challening, but good exercise.
[Based on plans discussed previously, I think we've summarized sparring. I'd like to see at least one kyril/Solange "on the boat" discussion, but it can be run in parallel. [Karen, please start it.]]
[We'll tie off Lilly in this thread, then go to "Land Ho!"]
Lilly slowly emerges from the below decks, carrying a long wrapped bundle. Oddly, she has changed from the pants she was wearing to a long robe. She speaks to her cousins without preamble and seems to be somewhat distracted. "I have been called home by my father for a family emergency. He suggested that I tell you rather than merely leaving a note." It seems to both Solange and Lucas that she must be in trump contact with Benedict right now.
"I'm sorry," Solange says soberly. "If there's anything we can do to help, please let us know. Our thoughts will go with you."
Lucas nods his agreement.
"Travel safely, Lilly," he says, almost as a benediction - and he is referring to more than the simple trump, it seems.
"My thanks," she says to Solange and Lucas. "I am ready," she says to someone else. She reaches forward and disappears in a rainbow flash of light.
It had been an interesting evening spent in the captain's cabin, enjoying their first meal on the water. The food was better than the rations she remembered having when shipping out with Jerod, the purser was attentive, the captain and his first mate were gruffly charming, Kyril was quiet but smiled a lot, and Lucas regailed the table with many entertaining stories.
Solange nodded a thanks to the purser as he refilled her wine glass, then sat back and watched the masculine interactions around her. Unless Lucas or the captain had a companion stashed away somewhere, with Lilly gone she was the only woman on board. Her cousin Paige would relish this. She would be witty and charming and have the sailors somersaulting over themselves for a glimpse of her smile. Solange just felt oddly exposed, as if under a bright scrutinizing light. Her new-found feminism from shadows where gender roles were more egalitarian warred mightily with Aunt Felicity's more demure upbringing. In the end, Aunt Felicity won--for this evening, at least. Solange listened more than she talked, laughed where socially appropriate, and carefully sipped her port.
The stories lasted until very late--Lucas seemed to have a never-ending supply--but at last the captain stood and said something about getting back to steering the ship. Amid polite laughter, Solange took the opportunity to excuse herself as well and retreat to her cabin. It was a simple pleasure to slide the pocket door shut behind her and finally be alone.
She sinks down to the floor and sits with her back up against the cabin wall, arms hugging her knees. Someone lit an oil lamp in her cabin earlier, and although brighter than a candle, it still doesn't quite penetrate the deep shadows in all the odd corners of the room. Had this been a ship from Pacifica, or Hope, or any number of other places she'd visited in her travels, bright electric lights would have burned away any darkness, exposing all the dirt and dust, the cracks and rust...the insecurities...
The weird mental jump from electric lights illuminating a room to exposing her uncertainties catches her by surprise. Not wanting to dwell on the near angst of the situation--it was only the first night of the voyage!--she instead reorders her thoughts and starts a mental checklist of things to do. First, ask Lucas if he brought that book from the Paresh and if so, if she could borrow it to read thoroughly. Second, stop letting Lucas's comments get under her skin. Their relationship has on occassion the overtones of the wolf befriending the sheep, and it's no great feat to determine which animal best represents her. The least she can do is not blatantly hand herself over on a platter to him, all lamb chops and mint jelly. Third, talk to Kyril about...everything. Too much there to think about and it starts her feeling all oddly exposed again.
Needing a more effective distraction than working on her checklist, Solange jumps up and starts to unpack. Clothes, toiletries, books...and on the bottom of the chest, Kyril's medical kit. She'd missed that when she passed over to him his other belongings earlier in the evening. Solange pulls the kit out and gazes at the cover, the Pacifican medical emblem bringing back a rush of memories of Kyril and Lauderville. This unpacking exercise was also not proving to be the effective distraction she was seeking.
Ah, well. Sighing, she concludes that sometimes it's better to just go with the current rather than fight it. She'll take the kit over to Kyril now and see if he's still awake and let things go from there where they will. Perhaps he'll be in a mood to talk. If he's asleep, she'll just give it to him in the morning.
Kit held out in front of her, Solange pauses in the open doorway of the room assigned to Kyril that doubles as both the infirmary and the ship's doctor's cabin. Kyril is inside, his back to her, inspecting in the light of an oil lamp the label and contents of a bottle he'd pulled out of the ship's medical cabinet. "Catgut? This isn't _real_ catgut, is it?" he mutters, his tone making it very clear what he thinks about that.
Solange watches, amused, knowing that he's used to a higher tech. "Yes, I'm sure it is," she answers for him, entering and placing the medical kit onto one of the infirmary cots. "Did you find the eye of newt, too? It degrades in sunlight so it's probably toward the back."
He looks over the bottle at her. "Your homeland could use a revolution or two. I just don't get it. It's not like they aren't smart. The ship's medical logs talk about not using some treatments in some lands as if they don't work. I understand different people not knowing things, but they can't stop medicine from being medicine, can they?"
Solange sits down on the cot next to the medical kit. "Different shadows, so different physical laws apply, which extends to some medicine working in one shadow but not the next...or even freakier, some medicine affecting you differently from one shadow to the next."
He looks skeptical.
"Case in point: since forever, there had not been guns in Amber of any sort. Bring a perfectly good gun to Amber and it just stopped working--the gunpowder turned inert. Then a few years ago my Uncle Corwin accidently discovered that an inert jeweler's rouge from one shadow turned combustible in Amber. At long last, for good or ill, Amber had guns."
He looks downright disbelieving.
"As for the catgut, I'm sure it's actually some animal's intestines because natural substances don't break down in Amber like man-made ones do. Notice the clothes you're wearing? All natural fibers, and your boots are real leather. Your clothes from Lauderville, had you continued to wear them, would have just frayed away into nothing after a period of time." She cocks an eyebrow at him and smiles.
Kyril looks at his boots.
"I've been wondering where they went. Um, that's even more unbelievable than the whole knights and Kings and Unicorns thing, you know?" He waves his arm around the small room, in a way that makes Solange think he's somehow gotten used to being on ships in the intervening years.
Regardless of how used to small rooms he appears to be, she leans back a little when he starts waving his arms around.
"And yet, I'm supposed to have had one of the finest, most useless educations in Science that Lauderville ever concocted for a medical student. Can you demonstrate this effect?"
She raises her eyebrows. "Which effect...? You've experienced the shifting from one shadow to another already...remember the men chasing us?"
"Yes, of course," he says impatiently. "People, knowledge, stuff. I've seen that twice now, yeah. But laws of nature are laws of nature. You can't just go changing things. I mean you can, but not those kinds of things. And that's not even based on a law of nature. It's not possible for man-made things to be different than natural things like you said. Things don't know how to decay, it just happens. It's entropy. Can't change that."
He seems pretty sure of himself. Almost aggressive about it.
Solange gazes at him for a half a moment as she chews thoughtfully on her bottom lip, trying to put herself in his shoes, trying to understand what it's like for him to have his concepts of the workings of the universe turned upside down and right-side-out.
Proceed to explain. But proceed carefully.
"Kyril, open up your medical kit." She picks it up and holds it out to him. "Pull out something that runs on batteries and try to turn it on."
He looks like he's going to say something, and then closes his mouth and pulls out a small electronic device. It's half the size of a cigarette case, and a fetching black color. He switches it on, then taps it. He puts it aside and pulls out a small pen-light. It doesn't light. He pulls out another device and stops. "Um, OK. So the batteries are dead. That can happen."
"Batteries go out on all those devices at the same time? No. Electrical things don't work in Amber," Solange says matter-of-factly. "Amber is a different world than Pacifica. Kyril, I'm not just talking about a different planet in the same universe so that all the laws of physics are the same. I'm talking about a different universe, too."
His jaw is pretty firmly set. "That just doesn't make any sense, Solly. You can't change the laws of nature. Maybe there's something that drains the power when you move from place to place, or maybe there's something here that dampens electrical fields. I don't know. What I do know is that it is explainable. All of it. I may not be able to explain it, but there's got to be laws you can discover."
Solange spreads her hands, conceding the possibility. "And speaking of discovering things, electricity _does_ work in Xanadu, so you can have fun discovering which of your medical gizmos will work there." She pauses.
For a moment, Kyril looks like he may argue the point, but doesn't.
"That is, assuming you decide to stay. I know the town there is not much to look at yet, but in a few years you won't even recognize it. And it occurs to me that they'll need medical facilities with all the new people that will be settling in. You could start your own hospital, if you wanted. Pretty much anything you wanted to do."
She rubs absently at a spot on her palm as she talks, testing the waters, and when she's finished glances up at Kyril to gauge his reaction.
His eyes flash. "Is that what you think I want? Is that all you think I want?"
She spreads her hands again. "I thought you wanted to practice medicine. That's what you wanted to do back in Lauderville, when we were in school. What's wrong, Kyril?"
"I've been practicing medicine every day since I graduated, and some before that. That's not going to change, it's who I am. What's wrong? I'm not sure. I'm a doctor because I like to help people and it's how I use who am to do it. Half the people on this ship aren't convinced you and your cousin are human. I'm not sure what I'm getting into. And I'm not sure what I want. I'm not good at not knowing enough to set an objective and achieve it. All my options sound good. I can set up Dr. Kyril General, I can live in palatial luxury with servants to peel grapes for me, or I can run like hell. I don't know, and it's getting to me."
She knows what she wants. She wants him to stay here with her, but she's afraid to voice it. Solange looks down at her lap.
He pushes his chair back, but doesn't rise. "Do you know that I tried to talk your father out of smoking? He said he was immortal and that he didn't have to worry about cancers. Given what I hear about his injuries, he may be right."
Her expression turns serious as she looks up. "What do you mean?"
"Most people who don't die of something die because of a slow accumulation of defects and tiny failures that add up over time, and which slow or stop the body's ability to resolve issues that, if they came up at age 20, would be nothing, not to speak of age 10, 5, or 1. This is what I didn't understand about your gunshot wound. Your body acts like a newborn's, but with the size of an adult. What you can't absorb, you can just fix. I don't think you people die in bed."
Solange thinks back briefly on the causes of death of the relatives she knows about. Nope...he's right. All violent deaths. She smiles at him.
He waves his arm around. "We added maybe 20-30 years to the average lifespan in Pacifica in two centuries of increasingly modern medicine and it nearly broke our social structures. Or maybe it did.
"It'll take me a while to be a good doctor to people who aren't what I know of as human."
She pauses. "So you decided not to run away?"
He looks into her eyes, not saying anything. He lets the silence grow between them, almost daring her to break it.
Solange's insides flutter under his gaze. She smiles, remembering the last time she felt that particular sensation. Some things never change. Hopefully other things won't change, either.
She sighs deeply and stands. "Well, I for one hope you stay. Read as much into that as you like. I'm going to bed." Solange leans over and kisses him lightly on the forehead. She pauses then, suddenly very aware of his proximity, his heat against her face, her own face flushing...
He reaches out and puts his hands on her arms. "You. You ran away. I'm not a runner." And he just holds her, loosely, looking up at her.
Solange sinks to her knees in front of him, then sits back on her heels. She looks up. "Yes, I ran away," she admits quietly. "I was afraid. Kyril, I'd fallen in love with you. A lot. And I knew you'd grow old and one day you'd die. And I knew that would hurt, worse than when Matthew or Mama died, worse than seeing Father in a wheelchair, that would hurt and I would have to spend the long years of the rest of my life without you. I didn't want to do that. I didn't want to love you so much and then lose you. I was afraid and I ran."
His hand slides up her shoulder to her hair and he strokes it. "If you had to do it over again, would you?" His voice is quieter, matching hers.
"No." She pauses, reconsidering her answer, then shakes her head. "No. Not then. I deeply regret the pain I caused you, but I needed to grow up." Solange catches the hand stroking her hair and kisses his palm softly. "Now, however...ask me about now."
His eyebrows lift slightly. His eyes are very large in the dim light of the cabin. "OK. Tell me about now."
"I choose the bright, sweet hurt of loving you rather than the hollow ache of lonliness and regret. I'm not afraid anymore." She smiles at him and tears overflow down her cheeks. "Please tell me you feel the same way."
Kyril is very close. He leans in and his hand moves from her hair to her chin, which he lifts up slightly.
He closes his eyes when he kisses her.
She returns the kiss with another smile, softly, then reaches up to touch his lips with her fingers. "All right," she says, rather breathless, "My next question to you...do I go back to my cabin? Or do I close the door?"
His lips close lightly on her fingers; it's just noticeably there. "I'm not inclined to have you go anywhere. What if your cousin had me walk the plank in a fit of jealous rage?" He reaches out for the door, stretching for it, but not quite able to close it without sitting back.
Solange grabs a handful of the front of his sweater and pulls him back toward her. "Come back here. Forget about the door." She kisses him again, more forcefully this time, then pulls back a space. Her expression is pensive. "I'm curious about how you managed to find your way to Xanadu. You can't shift shadow...and there are no shadowpaths from Oceania to Xanadu that I'm aware of...so...how? You just started walking in Oceania and found yourself in Xanadu? Nothing weird or untoward happened?" She traces the line of his jaw with her finger.
He shrugs and she can feel his chest moving under his sweater. He's bulked up since med school, but not too much. "I dunno. Until I met your cousin, I thought I was lost in Oceania. From what I gathered before I was assaulted, the people of Xanadu just expect people to walk in from elsewhere. Other than the assault part, they were very friendly and helpful, and expected us to move in and start working." His arms slide around her waist. "Why are we talking, again?"
She smiles and wipes the tears away where they overflowed down her cheeks. "I've really no idea. I'll go close the door."
Last modified: 11 January 2006