Chapter 4: Moving On

An elderly and somewhat portly man bustled around the corner at an intersection in the passageway ahead of Laurence. The Horotech was surprised when he was only given a cursory grimace by the man who then proceeded to look past him to Mr. Wellington. In his hand he held an illuminated note panel, the other hand wiggled the stylus between his fingers. A gruff smile forced its way onto his lips as he stopped next to Laurence, but still seemed to give him no notice.

"Nigel." He spoke the Historian's name as if he stated a fact that indeed, his name was Nigel, and the elderly man was well aware of that. "Tell me Reynolds filled the list I gave him." He shook his head, which made his jowls jiggle and animated the well-trimmed mutton chop whiskers that were practically white with age. "We will not be leaving without the list being completed otherwise. I told her over and over."

Nigel put an amiable smile on his face as he held up a slender hand in a pacifying gesture. "Why ask me? I fulfilled my pre-flight task by bringing aboard the newest member of our crew of ill repute." His amused chuckle was a bit muted by the close quarters of the passageway, and he gestured towards Laurence as he joined him. "Meet Mr. Laurence Kane. Our new Horotech." His brows lifted expectantly. "Mr. Kane, Dr. Hennessey. Our ship's doctor."

Laurence extended his hand. His enthusiasm made him bolder. "How do you - "

He was interrupted by the doctor's harrumph. Dr. Hennessey neither shook his hand, nor gave him anything more than a brief scan before he looked back to Nigel. "Safe to assume that he is in the hold going over strappings that he knows damned well will stay put since he just set them himself not ten minutes ago for the fifth time."

"Of course." Nigel's smile was the definition of patience for the doctor's mannerisms.

Dr. Hennessey harrumphed again then turned his attention to Laurence, finally. He looked the little Horotech up and down then started towards the lift Laurence and Mr. Wellington had just exited. "Eat some spinach, young man. Get some iron into your system. You're simply pallid." The passing diagnosis was given in a grumbling undertone as the doctor went back to his note panel and tapped the glowing screen with the stylus.

Laurence was back to feeling as if he weren't going to make an impression other than bad on any of the crew. Mr. Wellington seemed to get on with everyone he came across so perhaps there was that, even though something about the man's behavior made Laurence uncomfortable to have him in close proximity. For instance, the Historian again placed his hand on Laurence's shoulder to get him moving. Must the man be so entirely tactile?

"Soon enough you'll be as jaded as the rest of us if only from exposure," Nigel said in a blithe tone. His amused smirk seemed a perpetual fixture upon his face. His hand didn't linger on Laurence's shoulder for long. When they reached the intersection he gestured down first one hall then the other. "Down there is medical and Dr. Hennessey's quarters. My own lay down that hall along with my modest library. Continuing down this direction are guest quarters, not that we expect to have many. We aren't exactly giving tours." His lips tightened into a more lopsided, amused cant. He continued straight on to where a set of metal stairs led up from the deck.

"Above will be the mess hall," Nigel made a face, "not a very appealing term, but when in Rome..."

The Historian's opinion of the term was proven inappropriate. After they climbed the switch back staircase the pair stepped into a dining hall suitable for nobility at the very least. Laurence stared in astonishment. He marveled at the cherry wood cabinets, polished granite surfaces, clean gas range and oven. Pots, pans, goblets of pewter and wood hung from pegs that descended from the ceiling or hung on the walls. One could assume that the plates and dinnerware were contained within the cabinets and drawers that all had shiny brass fixtures. The common table was made of the same cherry wood, as were the benches on either side. The heads of the table hosted chairs, but Laurence noted that instead of plush velvet padding the chairs were modest, polished wood and nothing else. He had assumed that the Captain would allow herself that level of luxury, or perhaps Naviwerks would since The William's Hunt had been decorated and designed by the corporation. Laurence surmised either such accommodations were reserved elsewhere for the captain of the ship, or Captain de Sade had no use for such fripperies.

"With the exception of evenings you attend to your own meals." Nigel moved through the mess hall toward the doorway on the other end of the long room without lingering. Laurence was forced to hurry to catch up with his guide. "Dr. Hennessey has a liking for preparing dinner, but he steadfastly refuses to cook any other meal. Can't understand why." Nigel made a quiet sound of amusement for that. "The Captain doesn't see the need to hire a cook full on, so I do hope you know how to at least boil water." It was obvious that there was some sort of inside joke there.

"No, that won't be a problem," assured Laurence as he caught up to Mr. Wellington's back just as the Historian began to climb a short flight of steps. "You see I'm an only child and my mother was quite ill most of my life before she passed, rest her soul. I was forced to learn to cook for myself at a young age."

Nigel glanced back at Mr. Kane with a brow lifted. "I see." He seemed to ponder the Horotech for a moment before his lips pulled into a nebulous smile. Then he turned to push open a hatch door. "My sympathies, Mr. Kane. For your mother." There was something tight, almost restrained about his tone of voice. Since he had been nothing but glib thus far the tone was notable. "I loved my own dearly." But before that could be commented on, Nigel moved into the passageway past the hatch. Laurence thought it a curious thing to say, but for once managed to pick up on the social nuances that meant Mr. Wellington didn't wish to discuss the topic.

The passageway they stepped into was much the same as the one beneath, although the lighting seemed a tad dimmer to Laurence's eyes. It was shorter, with a set of metal stairs that led upward on either end. The first was immediately to the left as they entered from the mess hall, the other on the far end just past an intersection. Perhaps the darkened lighting was meant to set the tone for the Horotech's next encounter, for there, at the base of the far staircase, stood the Captain herself.