|
Post by elizar on Nov 19, 2008 16:58:18 GMT -5
"But to be compared to WW2 line-of-fire situation is not as good for PR." Aron said.
"Any others that have gotten that kind of treatment?" Babel asked.
|
|
|
Post by Evangeline on Nov 19, 2008 18:38:15 GMT -5
"Which is why we brought better stuff." Clyde said. "The next shipment by sea might get us a floating drydock. I heard of a good deal on one that Zoe's family was looking at."
"Occasionally, but not nearly so bad." Zoe said. "And things have improved since the 50's. We're considerably more integrated into the rest of society."
|
|
|
Post by elizar on Nov 19, 2008 18:54:54 GMT -5
"I've heard about them, but never really looked them up seriously." Aron said. "Did we even have one of those here?"
"Anything been done like that to users?" Babel asked.
((I finally worked out Babel's parents. Father's a mega-user, mother normal, whole user family linebred like horses but enough to avoid the complications of inbreeding. Icelanders actually have a nice experience with this. The Founder was an Icelandic Elf (translation error there, according to folklore they are Sidhe). The mix between him and a human mother was born in 997.))
|
|
|
Post by Evangeline on Nov 19, 2008 19:20:33 GMT -5
<<< Interesting >>>
"I think you did." Clyde answered. "Though none operational now. You get one of those, it's like a floating marine clinic."
"I think it was because some people suspected our line might produce users, and were afraid." Zoe adjusted the brim of her gaucho-style hat to better shade her eyes. The hat was one of her few manifestations of sartorial flambouyance, along with the bombachas and tall guacho boots under her duster. The hat and duster were real items, the others came and went with Zoe's shape changes. "Like I said, aircraft had a more marginal status back then. They feared that we might be tempted to settle some scores."
|
|
|
Post by elizar on Nov 19, 2008 19:32:21 GMT -5
((Strange when I write new things down, in most cases makes me want to scrap the whole thing.))
"Alright." Aron climbed down and stretched. "I'm hungry."
"If they figure out what I can do, do you think they may try to do the same?" Babel leaned on the railing and sighed.
|
|
|
Post by Evangeline on Nov 19, 2008 20:02:30 GMT -5
"There will always be a few people who have that attitude." Zoe said. "But the better number, once they have some education, will live and let live. But that education is a very delicate matter. It's a topic of endless debate in my family. They would like to improve the relationship between users and the public, but they don't want to go over the line into social engineering, which is just as bad."
"The staff from Urqhart's galley are bringing food over for everybody." Tom announced.
|
|
|
Post by elizar on Nov 19, 2008 20:10:38 GMT -5
Babel was silent for a moment as leaning on the railing but looking at nothing.
"This 'user' thing, it's inherited, right?" She finally asked.
"But we better not dine here." Aron said as he looked at the unconsciousness Rachel. Surgery room was a surgery room, and not used for anything else. Even though there was pretty much no way for humans to infect her with diseases, the taboo was still there. Surgery room was a surgery room.
|
|
|
Post by Evangeline on Nov 19, 2008 20:18:13 GMT -5
"Next tent over, a little walk down the pier." Tom motioned with his arm. "Also a place to wash up."
"It can run in families, and sometimes it just pops up." Zoe said. "But generally not everyone in the family is a user, and sometimes it skips generations."
|
|
|
Post by elizar on Nov 19, 2008 20:22:50 GMT -5
Aron chuckled. "I guess we need to do that." He said. "Hands, food, and then finally a shower."
"So there is a chance my parents weren't like me." Babel said.
|
|
|
Post by Evangeline on Nov 19, 2008 20:43:17 GMT -5
"Perhaps not, but perhaps there was someone else down the family tree who might have had abilities." Zoe leaned over the rail, peering at the screens around the drydock. "People are coming out. They must've finished work for now." She took a set of binoculars out of her inside pocket to study the medical team and workers as they went over to the outside wash stations and a catering area set up by Urqhart's crew. For Zoe, one of the more annoying tradeoffs of human shape was losing her distance vision. "Everyone looks hopeful, so we can guess it went pretty well."
It wasn't so much a "tent" as a rapidly erected awning over a catering station, but the food was hot and plentiful, serving spaghetti with buffalo meatballs and garlic bread to the hungry crowd who passed through the hand-wash stations. Toilets and shower stations had been set up further back. Clyde rinsed off and took his own specialized supplements, then took a break as he watched the humans eat; he found it somewhat amusing. Folding chairs and tables were set up just beyond the kitchen, beneath the awning and its windscreens. Tom waited for Aron, making way for the nurses as they joined the line. These (mostly) women had never expected to find themselves working alongside hard-handed dockyard workers, but they had also worked their tails off.
|
|
|
Post by elizar on Nov 19, 2008 20:59:17 GMT -5
Aron washed his hands throughout and carefully, then got himself a rich lunch.
"Poor gal that has to stay behind and watch the vitals." Aron said as he sat down with Tom.
"I don't detect much at the moment." Babel said. She had been forcing herself to run dry just to be on the good side of the authority. It was like a thirst for water after running the marathon. Just right by her was a rich source, but she was forbidden to tap into it. She had made it without problems before she had met Zoe, now she knew how it was to have more.
|
|
|
Post by Evangeline on Nov 19, 2008 21:09:45 GMT -5
"We'll get a relief for her in an hour." Tom nodded. "And some of the onboard folks will still be there."
"We can go down and ask." Zoe said, "After lunch. I think they're serving much the same thing over here."
|
|
|
Post by elizar on Nov 19, 2008 21:24:21 GMT -5
"Yeah, but it is always better to have someone professional overseeing it." Aron said as tackling on his beef. He raised a glass with pitiful light beer. "For Rachel's recovery."
"Yeah." Babel walked towards the mess hall.
|
|
|
Post by Evangeline on Nov 19, 2008 21:50:40 GMT -5
"Here, here." Tom also raised his stein.
"Certainly smells good." Zoe noted that she hadn't had a thing since early morning.
<<< Time jump now? >>>
|
|
|
Post by elizar on Nov 19, 2008 22:07:56 GMT -5
((Jumping))
Aron was checking over Rachel. Her wound was healing nicely, and it seemed that it would continue to do so. The stitches had been made of thread that would dissolve by its own so it meant that there was no need to remove them. Of course, there would be scarring, but it would still be marginal. Aron knew that here, any boat with such a gaping hole in them would have been scrapped, or the patchjob so aggressive but yet very successful.
"I hope you learned a lesson from this." Aron said to Rachel as running his hand over the seams, rubbing some medicine oil over them.
Marisa sniffed the air to track down one person in particular. The one she was hunting at the moment was not Jeffrey, but Bree. Marisa and Jeffrey had been talking about sealing the deal, or so to speak, but there were few complications. Neither wanted in particular to leave the humanverse, Marisa would receive much flak for marrying someone who simply knocked her up, so she figured that speaking to someone else would be good for her.
It had taken some time, but Stefán Freyr Markússon was finally in Auckland. It had taken some time for the rumors of the living fleet to reach Misturflói, and then even longer time to get the stories about how they had gotten a teenage Icer from the middleeast and were now rehabilitating her. He knew that there would be a long shot that she would remember her granted name, but there was a chance that she could be transferred to Misturflói to learn about her true heritage.
Before he would go to the docking offices, where he figured he could talk to someone that was either in charge of the fleet or knew the one who was in charge, he went for the pub. He did stand out pretty well from the rest of the people even though he did dress similarly. He was simply a stranger in the town. He wondered if some get of Lukku-Láki frá Suðurbýli, a painted palomino stud was in town. It would be interesting to see how they would be, LL had been one of the better stallions that had come with the initial wave of refugees.
|
|