"In Media Res"
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“No, the illudium modulator goes there.”
“I am a plank owner, Captain Frost,” Connie bit off tersely. “I’ve been with this ship ever since her keel was laid. In fact, I was there when…”
“A fact I couldn’t forget even if I wanted to,” said Gabriel, brusquely cutting her off, “because you bring it up so often. A fact that in your mind seems to trump the fact that I designed this ship.”
“I know you designed the class, but…”
“But no two ships of the same class are ever one hundred percent identical,” Gabriel interrupted. “And in other news, water is wet. Yes, I designed the Pellucidar-class. But I drew up specific plans especially for Challenger. She is… unique. Elite. Without equal.
“And I was also there when the keel was laid, but you probably don’t remember. It’s easy for a lowly lieutenant – even if he’s the ship’s designer – to be overlooked when it’s announced that the legendary Jaffral Fforde is coming out of retirement to take command of the ship in question.”
“Chottomatte… You were the crazy engineer who gamma-welded those coins to the keel, where the so-called mainmast spar would rest on it! What the Hell was that about, anyway?”
“The way you throw around ‘plank owner’, I thought you’d be a bit more knowledgeable about maritime traditions.” Gabriel’s tone was a bit more than subtly mocking. Connie folded her arms across her chest and pursed her lips.
“Enlighten me,” she said flatly.
“The practice has surprising parallels on several other worlds, but on Earth it’s thought the tradition started with the ancient Romans. When a sailing ship was being built, a few coins were placed on the keel as good luck talismans. If the ship should go down, they were payment to the Ferryman for passage of the sailors’ souls to the underworld. The coins were usually placed where I welded the ones to Challenger’s keel.”
“I’m surprised that someone like you puts any stock in such… such nonsense.”
“Someone like me?” Gabriel remarked drily, raising an eyebrow.
“An engineer, a ship designer, a… a grease monkey! Your work depends on facts, on technological, scientific, and mathematical certainties. Blessed Hell, Gabriel, your continued existence relies on them!”
“I have seen things, Connie, that defy all description, that by those certainties could not possibly exist, but do. I could make the argument that my existence, while dependent on them, is in defiance of those same certainties. How do you scientifically quantify the human soul?
“Don’t roll your eyes, Commander. I know quite well how you feel about that subject. Put simply, Connie, there is magic in this universe, whether you choose to see it or not.”
“Magic,” said Connie disapprovingly. Gabriel’s smile was warmly amused.
“Magic.”
Connie shook her head, chuckling. “You are impossible, Gabriel.”
“Nothing is impossible. Highly unlikely? Sure. Infinitely improbable? Occasionally. But never impossible.”
“Shut up and hand me that modulator, and let’s get these dynotherms connected. Sir.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
This came about as a dialogue exercise - slash - effort to stave off boredom... thought I'd share. For anyone following Challenger and her adventures, this takes place a bit after my Jan/Feb challenge entry, "So Long and Thanks for All the Fish."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
“No, the illudium modulator goes there.”
“I am a plank owner, Captain Frost,” Connie bit off tersely. “I’ve been with this ship ever since her keel was laid. In fact, I was there when…”
“A fact I couldn’t forget even if I wanted to,” said Gabriel, brusquely cutting her off, “because you bring it up so often. A fact that in your mind seems to trump the fact that I designed this ship.”
“I know you designed the class, but…”
“But no two ships of the same class are ever one hundred percent identical,” Gabriel interrupted. “And in other news, water is wet. Yes, I designed the Pellucidar-class. But I drew up specific plans especially for Challenger. She is… unique. Elite. Without equal.
“And I was also there when the keel was laid, but you probably don’t remember. It’s easy for a lowly lieutenant – even if he’s the ship’s designer – to be overlooked when it’s announced that the legendary Jaffral Fforde is coming out of retirement to take command of the ship in question.”
“Chottomatte… You were the crazy engineer who gamma-welded those coins to the keel, where the so-called mainmast spar would rest on it! What the Hell was that about, anyway?”
“The way you throw around ‘plank owner’, I thought you’d be a bit more knowledgeable about maritime traditions.” Gabriel’s tone was a bit more than subtly mocking. Connie folded her arms across her chest and pursed her lips.
“Enlighten me,” she said flatly.
“The practice has surprising parallels on several other worlds, but on Earth it’s thought the tradition started with the ancient Romans. When a sailing ship was being built, a few coins were placed on the keel as good luck talismans. If the ship should go down, they were payment to the Ferryman for passage of the sailors’ souls to the underworld. The coins were usually placed where I welded the ones to Challenger’s keel.”
“I’m surprised that someone like you puts any stock in such… such nonsense.”
“Someone like me?” Gabriel remarked drily, raising an eyebrow.
“An engineer, a ship designer, a… a grease monkey! Your work depends on facts, on technological, scientific, and mathematical certainties. Blessed Hell, Gabriel, your continued existence relies on them!”
“I have seen things, Connie, that defy all description, that by those certainties could not possibly exist, but do. I could make the argument that my existence, while dependent on them, is in defiance of those same certainties. How do you scientifically quantify the human soul?
“Don’t roll your eyes, Commander. I know quite well how you feel about that subject. Put simply, Connie, there is magic in this universe, whether you choose to see it or not.”
“Magic,” said Connie disapprovingly. Gabriel’s smile was warmly amused.
“Magic.”
Connie shook her head, chuckling. “You are impossible, Gabriel.”
“Nothing is impossible. Highly unlikely? Sure. Infinitely improbable? Occasionally. But never impossible.”
“Shut up and hand me that modulator, and let’s get these dynotherms connected. Sir.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
This came about as a dialogue exercise - slash - effort to stave off boredom... thought I'd share. For anyone following Challenger and her adventures, this takes place a bit after my Jan/Feb challenge entry, "So Long and Thanks for All the Fish."
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