“Did Clairice or Garnet tell you?” I ask. I don’t restrain the bitterness.
Slate’s face warps into the most unusual expression. “Garnet. How did you know?”
“It’s one of them. Jade, amazingly, butts in less than you’d expect.”
“Yes. Well, she and HuanJen don’t seem to be in a butting-in mood as of late,” Slate comments.
“I noticed. So, Garnet spilled the beans?”
I fix Slate with my best guilt-inducing stare. The one I use on the beat when people need to think of me as a fatherly type and not a man packing heat.
“Yes.” Slate smiles wantly. “So, you’re going to try and see him? See … Fang or is it Xianfu?”
“Xianfu.”
My mind whirls back to the party at HuanJen’s place, a party before the vote. Fang Xianfu, Outrider, nice-looking guy from some oriental culture in a level 2 Earth. Charming as hell. I just met him for awhile, but … there’s something there.
Of course I knew there was something as my love life had been a good nothing for over a year. Except for Ricahrd - and Clairice and I figured he was less than nothing. So I knew something was there by contrast as it were.
I mean … well you just know.
“Yes, maybe.” I think I’m blushing. “I’m not sure why, but I want to try. I don’t think it’s desperation.”
“Good. I was going to ask,” Slate admits. Well, at least he has the guts to say it.
“No, actually, this is different.” I realize I’m still wearing the towel. “Hey, no offense, but I do have to get ready for work. And you, judging by the time, have to get some sleep.”
“Yeah.” Slate gives me a serious, brotherly hug. “Look, if you do need advice, I don’t know if I can be of help, but I can try.”
He means it, I can tell. I think he actually helped HuanJen get his heart together, believe it or not. Somehow, I don’t think he’s the right person for any aid for me, since Slate is straighter than a beam of light, but its nice to have the offer.
“We’ll see. And yes, I’ll keep you posted. If Garnet doesn’t first.”
March 16, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar
The Breakroom for my Station is one of those places that is supposed to be for relaxing. Of course, that theory kind of gets shot to hell since everyone goes there to relax, everyone needing relaxing is there, and thus there’s a crowd of people trying to relax but they can’t because there’s a crowd of people.
So we’ve got tables everywhich where, people cooking at the kitchenette, folks half in the usual Gendarme navy blue, and everyone trying to calm down while not getting on each other’s nerves. I’m glad I like these people, because it makes standing them easier.
Then there’s me, writing a letter, trying to ignore the noise, the smells, and the people milling around. Trying to drown out my world.
What do you say, really? I mean, I want to meet the guy. But I’m gonna stick this in his Guild maildrop, so I don’t know what mood he’ll be in when he sees it. Then of course, he’ll probably be with his partners, Verrigent and Donovan, so …
I’m being a moron.
Really, how dumb can I be, sitting here fretting? I left my earth for something more, I have friends, a job than means something, and a place where anyone can be themselves. I should be happy.
Except, well … I really want to write this letter.
It was easier on my own Earth sometime, I think. I mean I knew what bars to go to, who I was out to, and here it’s all so out in the damn open …
“OK,” I say, trying to sound out the words. “Xianfu …”
“Lorne?”
Thinning dark hair. Age indeterminate. Square face. Pattersyn.
It’s hard being a Gendarme in a town you don’t know, so when Pattersyn moved here from Piscion, I sort of ended up adopting him. I know what it’s like to be out of place. However, I sort of feel like his big brother, which is a bit of a pain because he’s older than me.
“Hello, what’s up?”
“Not much. May I?” Pattersyn sits down when I nod. “Nothing much, really. Just seeing how you are.”
“Sorry.” I put my notepad down. “Busy. Glad it’s all over.”
“Me too.” Pattersyn seems more relaxed than he did when he moved here. “I really walked into it moving during all the crap. What’s up?”
“Er …” I nearly blush again. “Writing a letter, to a friend. Trying to hook up with someone who’s an Outrider.”
“Oh, good luck, you know what the exploring business is like, I … should shut up?” Pattersyn notices my expression.
“Sorry, personal issues.” He means well, so I try to be civil. He really does.
“Oh, don’t let me bug you. You going to sign up for the extra time next week?”
“What?” Extra time? Great. Already.
“They’re going to ramp the shifts up starting next week,” Pattersyn confesses. “I think they’re announcing it tomorrow.”
“Oh. right.” My letter fades into the background. “Crap, I wonder if its true Helena Hixx is stepping down from the Traveller’s Guild.”
“That’s my guess.” Pattersyn doesn’t look thrilled. “Well, it was nice well it lasted. Er … Lorne?”
“Sorry. I think I’d better finish this letter before anything else changes …”
That’s me, trying to keep order - in my life and everywhere else.
March 19, 2000 AD Xaian Standard Calendar
He may be one of Xianfu’s partners, but I don’t like Verrigent, let me be honest about that.
The guy was a smuggler, and that may be Rancelman territory, but enough people sending dangerous stuff through the city or having turf battles makes it Gendarme territory. Maybe it’s the crap Dell and the Rancelmen are dealing with these days, but as reformed as Verrigent supposedly is, he still sets off my warning bells. I don’t even know how he fell in with our group.
Well, actually I do in general. Our little gang accumulates people - we’re the folks who work with people, ministers and lawmen and nurses and more. We just sort of pick people up, kind of like lint.
Either way, I’m not happy to see him on my date. Or, what was supposedly going to be my date. As soon as he opened the door of his hotel room, I could tell by his face I wouldn’t be happy. He had that “well, someone will be pissed look” and I was the only one around.
“Lorne?” He’s got this weird, cultured voice. It’s not what you expect coming out of a blue-skinned, batwinged man who’s nearly nude. OK, at least I don’t - I’ve only been here a few years, so I still have my biases.
“Xianfu’s not in, is he?” I really fail to sound polite.
“No,” Verrigent replies, sounding terribly tired. “Please, come on in, sit, I will fill you in.”
The guy sounds wiped out, and not just physically. I’d seem people come off of shift like that at the Station. It was he most human I’d seen Verrigent really - usually he seemed sort of full of himself. Or maybe it was that short time he dated Jade setting off some protective urges - don’t know.
Like I said, the guy really rubs me the wrong way.
“Sure.” I walk into the hotel room. Big place, probably expensive, probably paid for by the Guild. Then again, Verrigent’s got wings - he needs his space.
“Xianfu went to straighten some things out about housing, I’m afraid.” Verrigent gestures at a couch, while he sits on one of the beds. I take the offer and take a load off.
“Housing?” I try to figure things out. “I … oh, wait, you guys …”
I remember. A lot of people I know have had housing issues as of late. You sort of get aware of things.
“We used to live in Greenpole. Still do, technically. With the sewer problems and the political issues, it is less than pleasant. He’s trying to make alternate arrangements for himself, me, and Donovan as we have several jobs coming up.”
So what do I say now? The guy sounds like crap, my date’s ruined. Oh well - Gendarme Lorne Thompson
, maintaining civil order, on duty.
Damn it.
“Well, the political part is largely over, we just have to wait until the Council figures out how the Communicants will be run. I’m sure it’ll work out.”
It doesn’t sound convincing. Verrigent isn’t convinced.
“I doubt it. Everyone will want a piece, you know the Mercantile Alliance has its hands in everything, and the Messengers hate the Communicants even more than the Technologists. The University and the Travelers’ can be offended … have I covered it all?” He manages a weak smile.
“In general, yes.” I’ve got to give the guy credit, he knows his pointless Metrisian politics. The Communicants don’t have allies, just partners - folks have resented their Guild’s hold on television, radio, phone, and later the internet for years.
Verrigent continues, almost ignoring me. “It’s not over, and people still are not addressing important issues. Zoning. Well, sewer issues. Traffic. I’m very tired of Xai and Metris.”
That I didn’t expect. Sure the guy’s an Outrider, an explorer-of-other-Earths, but really. You think this place would be perfect for him - especially considering his unusual physiology. There’s no Earth of the Bat-men out there I’ve heard of.
“Well, I hope things work out.” I throw out the usual pat phrase, feeling like an idiot.
“We shall see. I am sorry.” Verrigent appears to think, his red eyes becoming a darker color. “I shall tell Xianfu you came by, anything …”
“Well …”
“Yes.” Verrigent seems to snap to attention. “We was very disappointed.”
Cool!
“Thanks.”
March 21, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar
And, as always, there’s the Nax. Sort of a beer-serving little Avalon for my friends and I.
I like order, really, and the Nax provides that. A nice friendly place to meet with the friends every week or so. Now that I have time, I hope to be in a better mood, and present longer.
If only some of my other friends were the same. There’s Slate and Garnet, a contrast in muscle and feminine curves as well as gray and red fur. There’s Clairice, still in her nurse’s uniform. However, two others are noticeably absent.
“Rake’s not here?” I asked as I sat down at our usual table in back.
“No, he’s busy, he and HuanJen.” Jade replied quiety. Jade doing anything quietly is a bit strange - hell she looks like a mess, even her black fur seems to have lost its shine.
Rake’s a regular with our group, a cheerful chunk of minister. I can’t remember the last time he didn’t show up. HuanJen not being here, I get. He’s always busy, and works an odd schedule, even with Jade’s help. But Rake …
Eh, I’m worrying too much. As if I don’t have enough to worry about.
“It does happen,” Clairice remarks, patting my on the arm. She knows. “Time to relax, big stuff.”
“I’m trying. I’ll start with a Spectal Margarita and work my way down. Or up. So, everyone, sorry I’m late, I had to drop off a letter. What’s going on?”
I get several looks. Oh, yes, these looks. I’m used to them.
“It’s fine.” I can tell my voice is cold an unfriendly.
“Well …” Garnet starts.
“No.” I cut her off. Slate gives me a rather surprisingly friendly look. He knows how I feel.
“Look, folks, before the inevitable questions …”
Everyone looks guilty. Good. As of late I’ve gotten tired of people intervening in my life. OK, yes, our little gang of ministers, medicos, technologists, and the like get paid to butt into people’s lives, but sometimes things are just too much.
I just want a life. I’m not a project, damn it.
“Yes, I’m trying to date Xianfu. Or something. Anything. Yes, its my first date in ages. Yes, I appreciate everyone’s help. No, I do not need any more. I am not a charity case.”
That was harsh. You know, I try not to overdo it when I’m angry - it’s the 6′7″ and owns-a-gun kind of thing. People take it badly when I’m upset.
“I’ve sent a letter off Xianfu. I think I’ve got some free time on the twenty-third. Are there any other questions?”
“Just the facts?” Jade asks with a hint of a smile.
“Yes. Now, things are fine. Totally fine.”
Well, more or less.
March 23rd, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar
“Crap!”
I try not to slam the phone down. I’m not going to get angry. I’m really not.
“Lorne?”
Clairice is standing at the entrance to the bedroom hallway, looking really concerned. I almost forgot she was here. It’s funny, I’ve gotten used to her easier than my last roommates. Then again, I knew her before we moved in together. I probably woke her.
“I … was busy trading hours at the Station and got mixed up. My date’s gone. I have to go in early, damn it.”
“Oh, Lorne …”
Clairice walks over and puts a hand on my shoulder. Damn, I feel really mushy and stupid. It’s got to be loneliness.
You know, everyone else seems to have someone or doesn’t worry. Even HuanJen had Jade. Rake’s a widower, but he had someone. You know, I really hate being alone. It’d be nice to have someone to really connect to.
Why can’t I at least be like Brandon, an unrepentant slut?
“Sorry, damn it, I’m being stupid. Maybe I should have let you and Garnet interfere more, eh?”
“No, you were right.” Clairice lays her head on my shoulder. “She and I got carried away. I think it’s … we’ve all been together a few years, we’re kinda tight. I’m sorry.”
“It’s OK. You meant well.” I shrug. “I’m tired.”
“We’re all tired, Lorne. Huan and Rake. Me. You and all the crap. The worst is over, but … it’s not all over. Maybe you should try later.”
“No.”
It hits me, it hits me like a punch to the stomach. I’m tired of order everywhere and my life isn’t. I just want things in their places, like … well like they should be naturally. The way things work out when I’m on beat, sort of by being there.
It’s my life, I might as well be there. I’m not. No wonder some of my friends kept sticking their noses in my business - my nose wasn’t there enough.
“I’m … going to try and engineer it on Saturday. He has a little time.”
Clairice gives me a look. “We’re you going to that service at the Temple?”
“Yeah,” I manage to smile. “No one will mess with that. Besides, I’m in a praying mood anyway …”
March 25, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar
The Temple of Thymis.
I’m not a religious guy - well, sort of. It’s hard to avoid it in Metris, its part of the culture, part of the way people communicate. It’s not so much how you divide people, but how you connect and relate. We’ve got gods and religions for all occasions and all comers.
Besides, I’m a Gendarme. The native Xaians have gods for us too. Even if you’re not a believer, the Temples and Shrines of Thymis, goddess of Justice, are a good place to touch base with what you do. Maybe I’m not that religious, but just as I help out at Rake’s church, I go to the services for Thymis.
Or, in this case, services for one of her servants.
I’m standing one of the small alcove-shrines in the temple, in front of a gun. Old style revolver, about thirty years old, set on a blood red-pillow under a glass case. Most visitors can’t see it, but there’s a wonderfully elaborate security system that protects it.
It gleams in the alcove lights, lethality in metal, humming with purpose. It’s not quite a gun. It’s The Gun. Slayer of the Three, final Arbiter.
Lankaiser’s pistol. Seven shots of justice.
The service is over, and I’m waiting, and I can’t stop looking at it. It skulks in its alcove during services, but sometimes afterward, you just have to look …
“Lorne?”
I snap back t
o reality, and turn around, and see Xianfu.
Damn, he is good-looking - sort of compact, short dark hair, oriental features, a bit like HuanJen if you retrofitted him with less height and more body. He’s got a jaunty look about him - hard to do as your usual Outrider survival suit is a practacal, pocket-laden affair.
And he looks happy to see me. Happy. Christ … er Thymis … oh, whatever. Thats a kind of look I haven’t seen in ages. He’s got eyes made out of the night sky.
“Hey.” I suddenly feel like I’m asking someone out on my first date. “Glad you could make it.”
“Strange place to meet, but it’s different.” Xianfu nods at the case. “Praying to the demigod of badasses?”
“Yeah,” I manage a laugh. “I’ve heard Lankaiser called that before. Well, he used to be human, so I figure if he’s out there, he’s still got a sense of humor.”
“Glad he didn’t come back?”
He’s serious. I manage a nod. “Yeah. You know the story, after he killed the Three and reunited the Gendarmes, he took his life. They keep his gun because … he may come back. And if he does, he’s going to need his gun.”
“The history of the Guildwar and the Redemption of the Gendarmes. Wow, you can show a guy a good time.” Xianfu has a little cute lopsided smile on his face.
“Sorry, thoughtful as of late.” I rub my forehead, and realize there’s a paint smear on it. The Three Drops markings you put on your forehead when you perform the Rememberance of the Redemption.
“Heh, forgot …” I begin, right as he presses a handkerchief into my hand.
“Clean yourself up. So, what’s the plans?”
I swab the handkerchief across my forehead, removing the paint daubs. The symbol of the infamous Three, gone in a swipe of cloth, and I’m back in the world again. The smaller, more personal world.
“How much time do you have? I mean I know this is last minute. I didn’t even know if you’d make it.” I don’t want to sound nervous. I really don’t.
Xianfu shrugs. “Well, one or two hours. About four or five if I decide to go on the next expedition tired.”
“Thanks.” I hand his handkerchief back. He smells different, kind of like a stone flowers have grown around. “I appreciate this.”
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