Episode 118. Part 2
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Landis is gregarious and shaking hands with everyone and Mir is every inch the Companion. The relationship vibe between the man and the woman is one born of long and congenial association, but it’s immediately obvious to Christian that Landis is keeping Mir on a very tight leash, preventing her from mingling and others from getting too close to her. And Christian also sees that Mir knows what Landis is doing and though not she’s entirely happy with the arrangement, she is going along with it. On the surface and to the untrained eye, there is nothing to see but the happily affianced couple, glittering and privileged, no worries or cares. To someone like Christian, it only deepens his suspicions that Mir is indeed being coerced.
De Proust has noticed the couple as well and Christian realizes that she’s going for them, snaring them for her entourage. If he wants to talk to Mir, he’s going to have to insinuate himself into de Proust’s circle more directly.
Time to switch gears.
Christian makes a witty yet bawdy comment geared to attract attention. He turns to the woman next to him and lets his gaze linger a flattering instant on her cleavage, displayed winningly in a tasteful designer gown, then compliments her on the porcelain quality of her skin…and inquires if it is just as lovely all the way down?
The people immediately around him react just as he predicts they will: mock embarrassment and of sufficient volume that they attract de Proust’s eye. Christian turns on the charm and waits for de Proust to notice him, the shiny lure, and bite. He’s pretty shiny, the charm turned up to ten gajillion watts, and it’s not long before de Proust snares him for her entourage. De Proust’s escort catches the cue he’s no longer needed and pulls a fade. Christian graciously leaves the woman he’s currently with and moves closer to de Proust.
As he approaches, he hears Kurran Morse mention to the entourage that he has several scaled maquettes of his current work and de Proust pounces on the possibility of acquiring one. Morse refuses, saying that even those cannot leave his possession and de Proust conceals her disappointment. Christian can see that Morse truly dislikes this sort of social gathering and is taking out his ill humor on his hostess. All the better for Christian to charm the woman on.
De Proust: I don’t recognize you.
Christian: I happened to be wandering by. I couldn’t help but notice the bar is set a little higher here than everywhere else.
De Proust is instantly hooked and Christian starts reeling her in. De Proust isn’t Guild-trained, but she’s got considerable skill of her own and Christian finds himself enjoying the social dance they’re engaged in. He responds to her subtle signal that should he wish to, he could easily supplant her male escort for the evening. Which plays perfectly with Christian’s plans.
He bows. He kisses her hand. She smiles.
Christian tells her his name and offers his arm. She takes it and nods. They walk and the entourage walks with them, including Mir and Landis.
Christian continues the thread of their conversation.
Christian: (flattering) Of course, your beauty and your grace precede you.
De Proust: (calling him on it) But surely, in person I must be far more beautiful and graceful.
Christian: (ceding the point, smiling) Of course.
Meanwhile, the rest of the crew have regrouped at the Gift and changed into some nicer duds to attend a less rarefied party beyond de Proust’s perimeter. Most of the partygoers invite themselves by bringing their own bottles of booze—the surefire way of being included in the festivities. Rick’s celebrity is all he needs and he easily gets Nika, Rina and Arden inside with him. There’s food to be had—real grilled steak, all the trimmings and sides, cocktail foods and drinks. It’s culinary heaven after eating shipboard fare for so long, and we grab plates of the good stuff and mingle.
Arden eats and walks the crowd, amiably wandering around and covertly listening to everything around him, gleaning what information he can. Nika eats and mingles as well, enjoying the party and the respite from life-and-death situations. Rick has attracted a female admirer of his show and she attaches himself to him in her fannish zeal, telling him about his show in detail that’s a touch unnerving in its quantity and accuracy. Rick smiles and deals, this situation being nothing new. Rina’s enjoying the first really fresh food in weeks, and some good vodka someone’s brought to the party, when she notices someone watching her. It’s a grizzled male figure, someone who doesn’t exactly match the profile of the general crowd and he’s giving her the eye.
Her twitchy dials up a notch and she covertly examines him as she continues eating.
He’s not old, exactly, but a trifle unkempt with several days’ stubble on his face. He’s wearing a leather bomber jacket with an Alliance Navy patch on one side and another patch bearing the hawk’s claw and arrow of the Lex Talionis.
Time to go.
He hasn’t approached her yet, but stands there as if he’s trying to place her face.
Right the hell now.
Rina gets up and takes a final swig of the vodka as it passes her, thanks the passer and takes off on a circuitous path back to the ship. It’s a risk—if he follows her all the way he’ll know which ship is hers. But this isn’t something she can call the law on, not with her background. If she can, she’ll give him the slip once she finds a good spot in the crowd. She checks if the older man is following. He’s on her tail. Rina engages her earcomm and pings Nika, Arden and Rick.
Rina: I’ve picked up an eye. I’m going back to the ship.
Arden responds first.
Arden: An eye?
Rina: (low) Someone’s got an eye on me. He’s creeping me out. I’m going back to the ship.
Rina checks her six again, sees the man’s gone and picks up her pace…and stumbles into someone in the torch-lit murk. It’s the man, right there in living color and there’s nothing for it now but to confront him. Her hand twitches for her gun and she remembers too late she’d left it aboard the Gift. She has her knife, out of sight and out of reach under her pants leg in her left boot. Rina steps back and mumbles an apology—sorry, didn’t see you—and moves around him.
He calls out to her.
Man: ’Scuse me, ma’am. You look familiar to me. Where do you hail from?
Should she play the drunken innocent or just keep going? People are turning and starting to look. No escaping this now.
Drunken innocent it is.
Rina: I’m sorry? …Too much vodka…uhn….
She takes a few steps slantwise, tipsy-like, and puts more distance between them.
Man: I know….I know I’ve seen you. It’s been a long time, I think, though. Maybe we were in the War together. Were you in the War?
Rina: (still moving) Everybody was in the War. Excuse me…I’m not feeling very well…good night.
Man: Yeah…and you have one’a those Meadow accents, too.
It’s true. Her damned accent comes out under stress and right now she’s stressed right off the charts. It’s time to shut the fuck up and get the hell outa there. Rina gives the man her back and starts making tracks through the crowd, trying to put bodies between her and her stalker.
The man follows her.
Man: What did you do in the War? What was the name of that ship you were on? The Janus, was it?
He knows too much, about the War, about Janus. She’s got to put a lid on this. Now. Rina whirls around, pitches her voice to carry and plays girl-stalked-by-creepy-guy.
Rina: I don’t know you. Leave me alone. Before I start screaming for the cops. (undertone) Dirty old man….
And she picks up her pace out of there.
Man: (gestures to the parked ships) You’re on that Kuiper Class?
He knows which ship she’s on. She’s humped. Rina keeps going anyway and hails Rick, Nika and Arden on the hand comm.
Rina: (thickly) I need your help. Come and get me. There’s some … creepy man trying to pick me up…
Rick: On our way.
As Rick signs off, Rina spins around and thrusts a finger at the man, drunken bravado in every line of her. She hopes it’s convincing enough to hide her fear.
Rina: My friends are going be here any minute and they are gonna kick your ass! Leave me alone!... Oh, god, I think I’m going be sick…
She doubles over, putting her hand closer to her left boot and her knife, and keeps moving back. The crowd parts to let her pass, but no one intervenes. She’s not entirely sure if she’s grateful or furious for it. All she knows is desperation and fear.
Man: You’re not from Beaumonde are you?
And Rina refrains from answering—she knows he’s testing her for a reaction, and resolves if he wants anything more out of her, he’ll have to beat it out of her. She straightens and looks him in the eye.
Rina: Maybe I should start screaming now.
Apparently he’s come to the same conclusion, for he nods at her in farewell.
Man: Enjoy your time here.
He leaves through the crowd. Rick arrives a few seconds later, followed by Nika and Arden. Rina rejoins her friends and in a low voice starts describing the man harassing her, down to the patches on his jacket.
Arden wants to know what the patches mean. Rick asks Rina if she’d like him to escort her to the ship and she accepts. Rick hands over his alligators to Nika and Arden, trying to keep this as low profile as possible. Nika and Arden turn away, discussing the merits of reptiles versus more conventional pets. Nothing to see here, folks, move along, thank you. When Rina and Rick get back to the ship, they do a walk-through to make sure no one’s tampered with the Gift while they’ve been gone. They find nothing amiss.
There being nothing left to do here, Rick announces he’s going back to the party. He asks Rina if she wants to go with him or if she’ll be all right alone? Rina sends him on his way and stays aboard. She locks up all the windows and doors, turns on every light in the house, and grabs her gun. And thinks. How much did she give away? How much did she conceal? How the hell did the Lex Talionis find her?
Meanwhile, back at de Proust’s party, Madame continues her social rounds. She keeps Christian with her without paying much attention to him the while, and Christian is completely content to play ornamental boy-toy: it makes achieving his next objective easier. So he accompanies her from one knot of people to the next, making his hostess look good and using the opportunity to get closer to Landis and Mir.
Eventually, Landis and Mir are encompassed in her orbit and de Proust greets them with a gentle chide.
De Proust: Kelsey, Kelsey… Off the market, but were you really ever on the market? The lovely Sirtis has possessed your heart since the moment you met.
Landis: Ah, yes. She had me at the first glance. But I thought this would be less expensive than engaging her services on a long term contract.
Christian suppresses a wince at the man’s crude remark. Landis is a complete and utter ass. Just what does Sirtis see in him? Sirtis maintains a serene smile that betrays nothing.
De Proust and Landis exchange small talk for a moment more before she asks him about his Philosopher’s Stone. Landis leans in close and admits if he were to tell her, he’d be banned from the Alchemist’s Guild.
Landis: I cannot share the details with you, but we’ve managed to make a comfortable life for ourselves. (to Sirtis) Haven’t we, dear?
Sirtis: (right on cue) Well, yes. We’ve quite a lovely little ranch, with everything imaginable to make me comfortable.
Sirtis greets Christian warmly with a look of recognition, but doesn’t call him out. They exchange pleasantries and Christian inserts himself skillfully into the larger conversation by saying he’s interested in learning more about Landis’ project. The other man is only too happy to hype his product without giving away any details and de Proust hangs on every word. Not that she’s too terribly interested, Christian can see, but social aspirations urge her to maintain that illusion. Landis would be a powerful asset to her ambitions. Landis appreciates her attention and when his is more attached to her than on Christian or his fiancée, Christian steps aside and questions Sirtis a little more closely on her situation.
Her situation is not unpleasant, she says, and Landis is not an unpleasant fellow. When he made up his mind to marry her, he refused to take no for answer and so far has treated her well. And the ranch is a charming place to live. She has her horse with her, though she rarely gets a chance to ride. Christian mentions one of his friends grew up on a ranch and speaks of it often.
Christian: Your accent…you’re not local.
Sirtis: (taken aback, but recovering well) Well, no. I’m originally from Osiris.
Christian: Well. You see, this might be a little crass to say at a party, but I do represent a small passenger ship and if you do want to bring your family out here for the wedding, I’m sure I can arrange a discount for you in celebration of your nuptials.
Sirtis: That’s very kind of you, but we’ve decided to elope. We’ve turned to a simpler life than the one we had back in the Core. This is probably the biggest event of the year.
Christian: That’s too bad. You’re the kind of woman who deserves a grand wedding.
Sirtis: That’s very kind of you, but Kelsey provides me with everything I could possibly need.
Sirtis glances at Kelsey, sees he’s still holding court with de Proust and her hangers-on, and turns back to Christian. She lays a gentle hand on his arm and says in a quiet voice for his ears alone.
Sirtis: It was a terrible business, what happened to you. Sometimes, the fates are not kind to us.
Christian: (agreeing) No.
Landis looks over and sees Sirtis and Christian, and immediately closes in. He gracefully takes her in hand and apologizes for ignoring her. He eyes Christian politely and inquires his name. Edge? Edge. Oh, yes. Very good. Pleased to meet you. Christian thanks him and smoothly tells Landis that he is part of an independent-minded crew who are interested in investing in the future of the area.
That’s the hook and ever on the lookout for investors, Landis bites. They exchange contact information and Landis excuses himself, declaring it’s late and tomorrow is a busy day, etc. He gathers up Sirtis and they bow out for home.
That’s it. Landis is interested. We’re in.
Christian watches them leave and then feels someone’s gaze on his back. He turns and sees de Proust’s disproving eye.
De Proust: I believe she’s taken, Mr. Edge.
Christian: No, I apologize. It’s just that she reminds me very much of a friend I had growing up. I was wondering if there was a relation. I do apologize. However, I imagine you too would want to be the first to see the artwork, or that the artist arranges a special showing for such a distinguished person such as yourself.
De Proust: (archly) I may be over 60, but it’s not quite my bedtime yet.
The men in the immediate area politely chuckle at her humor and at a gesture from de Proust, the musicians quicken their tempo from background music to a vigorous waltz. The people respond and they swirl out onto the designated dance floor. His mission accomplished, Christian spends his considerable charm on de Proust for the remainder of the evening, giving her exactly what she wants—the perfect escort for the perfect party.
He doesn’t come home to the Gift at party’s end, but spends the night in de Proust’s luxury suite on her chartered ship. During the pillow talk that ensues, de Proust asks if Christian is a Companion. He truthfully replies he’s not. She finds his answer hard to believe, since his …skill set is clearly far above the norm. Christian manages to distract her from further inquiry and the subject doesn’t come up again. Breakfast the following morning is lavish and they part company with the understanding there are no ties between them…just the way they both like it.
On his way out after breakfast, however, de Proust’s steward stops him and asks if there is anything he needs. Christian declines politely. The steward persists—does he have a contact number? Getting the clue, Christian gives it to the man and assures him that de Proust’s company is reward enough for the time spent, but if the lady wishes to see him again, he would be discreet. The steward bids him farewell and lets Christian pass.
Interesting.
Arden comes away from the evening with the impression that the people attending the gala tonight are for the most part there to see and be seen, to meet friends and have fun. The scuttlebutt on the artist, Kurran Morse, is mostly harmless. Some speculate the man is a little crazy, others don’t care one way or the other. There is some talk about Landis as well. Most think the Philosopher’s Stone is basically a factory process by which industrial scrap is dumped in at one end and gold and platinum spit out the other end. Garbage in, treasure out. Despite the value of such a process, the man doesn’t have a ton of investors yet. His chosen location has hampered him here.
As for what people are saying about Landis and Sirtis…. The word is that he’s never been seen at important events without her on his arm. He hasn’t had any other woman or girlfriends during his public career. Sirtis herself is much respected as a Companion, yet it’s an undeniable fact that once she’s married, she’ll command less prestige as Landis’ wife as opposed to Landis’ Companion. Such is the way of the Verse.
Some claim the reason Landis remains constant to Sirtis is not romantic love or fidelity, but suspicion and paranoia—with Sirtis and his long-standing relationship with her, Landis can be sure she isn’t out to steal his industrial secrets, including the Philosopher’s Stone process.
Also, it’s not clear why, given all his resources and contacts, Landis quit the Core a year ago for Beylix. Despite the wealth of raw material Beylix has to work with, there are distinct difficulties in starting up an industrial business from scratch on the Rim. Too much requires shipping out from the Core for it to be profitable enough to warrant the move.
Word is, Landis is a control freak about the Philosopher’s Stone process and has gone to great lengths to keep it secret. In fact, Landis has bought a parcel the size of Texas from United Reclamation, with a factory and junkyard on it. The airspace surrounding the factory grounds is a designated No-Fly Zone, and is even blanked out on the satellite mapping systems. No one can remotely see in or out of the factory.
He has workers living on the factory property but it’s unclear how many people are working for him, because they don’t leave the factory grounds to spend their pay on goods and necessities. Everything they need is shipped in from the outside, increasing operational security.
What the Philosopher’s Stone process is and how it works is a complete mystery.
When Rick returns to the party he’d left, he finds the fan is still waiting for him despite his long absence. Nika and Arden kept her company the while, and when Rick arrives the fan picks up where they left off. It’s pretty clear that wherever Rick ends up, she’s determined to follow. She’d grown up on a Salisbury ranch and had made her way to Beaumonde to make her fortune, and it was while she was there that she found out about the gallery opening and jumped aboard a ship going to Beylix, working for her passage—all just to go. And then when she arrives she finds that Rick is actually attending unannounced?
Dude, she is so there.
Rick is appreciative of her enthusiasm and devotion, shows her a good time and at the end of the evening lets her decide what she wants to do next.
He asks, she tells, and he brings her back to the Gift.
Alone on the ship, Rina’s finding the shadows are darker and deeper…and getting full. She greets Nika and Arden and Rick with a shotgun in their faces upon their return. She manages not to shoot them, but it’s a close thing. She also gives Rick’s date a hard look. Rick has to tell her that this is Karen, Karen’s cool, she’s with him, she’s staying the night. Nika takes Rina by the arm and drags her from the airlock. Arden assists. Rick reclaims his alligators and takes them and Karen back to his container, there to spend the rest of the night unchallenged by twitchy engineers.
Nika takes the shotgun away from Rina, sits the other woman down in a chair at the lounge table and demands to know what else she’s packing. Rina grimly slaps her knife and her gun on the table and sits back, sullen and scared.
Nika: Just what the [many Chinese invectives here] are you doing? Greetin’ us like that?
Arden: I just want to know what happened. Last I heard you had an eye on you.
Rina sits tongue-tied and her answer, when it comes, drags all the way up from her toes.
Rina: I… ran into someone.
Nika: You don’t normally freak out quite so hard about getting’ hit on.
Arden: (to Nika) Is that what this is about?
Nika: Near as I can figure.
Arden and Nika both look back at Rina.
Rina: (at a complete loss) He….he—[whispered Russian expletive]
Arden: Start over with ‘who’?
Rina: (getting a grip) He wasn’t trying to pick me up. He was—
Arden: He succeeded?
Nika: She’s gonna hit ya for that one.
Arden: She should.
Nika pounds the table in frustration.
Nika: (pissed off) Spit it out, woman!
Surprise makes Rina jump and it loosens her tongue.
Rina: They’re after me.
Nika: Excuse me?
Arden: You want me to leave the room?
Rina: (freezing up again) They’re…he’s….
She puts her hands to her face and tries to pull it together.
Nika: Spit. Start spewing or I’m gonna come over that table and spank you.
Rina: (dropping her hands) You…
Arden: I could guess and you can tell me if I’m warm or cold.
Nika: Do we have to play charades? Spit!
Rina stares at her crewmates and knows there’s nowhere left to run. For any of them. She sighs, her insides sinking, and begins ticking off the points on her fingers.
Rina: You have bounty hunters. You have commandoes. You have the Lex Talionis.
Arden: What was the last one?
Nika: (still pissed) Okay. Losing temper….
Rina: (raising her hands) All right, all right…Um…you know how… (shakes head, tries again) The Lex Talionis are after me. They….They’re Browncoat hunters. They…They’re very extreme.
Nika: For what?
Rina: I don’t know for sure, but I can guess. I think…I didn’t ask the man why he wanted to …I…It could be—
Nika: I get there’s a man who’s a problem. Is this about the ship?
Rina: It could be. It…it…
Rina’s shaking, from fear and the strain of confessing, of giving up her last inch.
Nika: So you’re freaking out because… he wanted to talk to ya?
Rina: No. No, I—
Arden: Did he recognize you?
Rina: I don’t know if he did or not. I didn’t recognize him, but I did recognize the patch on his jacket. He is one of the Lex Talionis and he is after me and …and I don’t know exactly why because…I…
Nika: Okay. I know. Hang on. (a beat) Did he act like he knew you?
Rina: He was fishing.
Nika: Okay. Could it just be that you’ve got one of those faces that—
Rina: No. No, no, no, he asked me…No. He said I reminded him of someone. He asked me if .. if I was…[her accent’s back, now]…I’d had a little too much vodka to drink and he…he asked me if I was from Meadow and I brushed him off… and-and he…And then he asked me if I was from Beaumonde and what ship I was on and if I was…If I was in the War…and…
Arden: (gently) Those all sound like lines guys use to pick up girls.
Rina: And there was—No.
Nika: I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, okay? Did he make an issue of it or did you just completely freak out and lose it?
Rina just looks at Nika, knowing she can never make the other woman understand, and starts getting angry. God, why do her crewmates have to be so gorram frikkin’ dense ?
Nika: You don’t know. Okay. Go to bed.
Arden: Take some aspirin. Drink some water. Lots of water.
Nika: Just go to bed.
Rina snatches her weapons back and gets the hell out of that chair, slams into her room and locks her door with a clack!
Arden: (yelling to be heard) Drink some water.
Rina: (yelling through her door) Got some in my room.
Arden and Nika hear the screech and thump of a chair being braced against Rina’s cabin door. Arden looks at Nika, who shrugs.
Arden: Is there something that this ship needs to be aware of?
Nika: I don’t know.
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