I know it ain't tomorrow yet, but I gotta get this down:
I'm readin' 3 chapters deep into my book, & already thinkin' that before the last page, it's gonna end up being "the butler" that did it...& I get a knock at the door...
IT'S THE WOMAN FROM THE SH*TLAND BAR!! :yahoo:
I play all suave, & cool, & invite her inside. (to be honest, what I accually said sounded something alot like, "Abougha schnefa?")
Anyway, she shot me a sly smile that burned right through my stomach as she said, "No...I only came by because I was supposed to give you this yesterday."
She handed me a blank envelope sealed old-school, with a bio-hazzard symbol stamped into the black wax.
I stare at the seal for a sec before I even realize she's already a good 30 feet down the hall.
"If I was supposed to get this yesterday," I called out to her, "then why am I gettin' it just now?"
She replied w/o lookin' back: "Because you were too dense at the time to figure out a simple clue that would lead you back down to Lower Islay."
...Dense? Simple? Now, that's just plain mean spirited of her...how cool is that? :ylove:
I went & took an extra day off work & stuck around my room on Islay contemplatin' the letter I got.
let's face it...after girlie-girl walked off & I read what she gave me, I woulda been worth a whole bunch 'o nothin' today in the cockpit anyhow.
I figure my way ain't the best way to explain what I wrote to myself, so I figure I'll just transcribe what I got here:
I'm not the only one to be happy to see you've made it this far, but, I AM the only one w/ all his chips on the table.
However, In the spirit of plausible deniability, I can't say much.
I'll be willing to bet that by now you think there are a number of people on station that would sooner knife you than tell you the time, Yeah?
Well, you don't have that kind of time to waste. So far, I understand that you don't know me from squat, but, you HAVE to trust me. I'm almost positive that I'm not completely self-destructive.
Anyhow, even though your thinking ....probably thinking, anyway, that your surrounded by wild-eyed, tree-hugging freaks... just get over that.
You have bigger fish to fry.
Gaia is alot more than just one planet...Gaia(the Planet) is just one aspect of the whole of the universe.
& as far as you & I are concerned, that should go w/o saying from now on.
The Gaians on Skye & Islay are real 'salt of the land' types, & I ask that you drop your shallow snap-judgements, and, for the time being at least, take their 'salt of the land' mindframe w/ a GRAIN of salt.
The Gaians, In general come off as fanatical to the public, because a good number of them are young, idealistic, & fairly short-tempered, Therefore, they tend to be preoccupied w/ immediate gratification. (They basically only want Gaia protected & safe) We stoke that idealistic optimisim while at the same time, doing our best to help them learn that Gaia doesn't experience time the way Humans & Non-Humans do.
The wheels of the Universe turn VERY slowly, & unfortunately, it's been difficult to help the younger Gaians understand that we won't win our war for Gaia(the Whole) during our personal lifetimes... It tends to bring them down.
Our faction is small, but, our foothold in Bretonia is secure, & one day, Bretonia AND the rest will be forced to realize that they just simply can't exist without us....Period.
Gaia is Nature, & The Gaians are a Force of Nature.
I'm sure by now, you've heard of The Green Front, yeah? Well, in the attempt to help expand Gaian influence, the GF recruited a few of us to help them out. So, understand that they are the ones you & I answer to.
I'll skip most everything for security reasons, but I'll tell you all I can:
The paint is still wet at the the offices of our Division at the GF, but, we are prepairing to take our role as, (for lack of a better term) 'Stewards of the Universe' Therefore, the VAST majority of our work will be done in the field throughout the sector. After all, Gaia needs to be protected EVERYWHERE.
First, we have our Gaian Blood cells, & they are our Rank-&-File pilots. They will patrol the whole of Sirius as leukocytes travel the bloodstream protecting it's host from disease.
Nuggets will be trained on the Gaian bases, & if they pass muster, they will recieve a cover-story transfer, & instead join The Gaian Gaurd in the Lewis system & continue their training there. Once fully trained, they become part of Gaia's immune system.
Next, we have our Gaian Clotters. Those in that Division will show everyone in Sirius why Gaia Does Not Bleed.
There are a couple other Divisions I have to skip for now, but, the top dogs are The Plague Dogs.
Again, Gaia is Nature, & The Plague Dogs are the Beasts of Nature.
Since She is the whole of everything, to kill ANYTHING is taking a portion of life away from Gaia, & we walk a very sharp razor.
...She is a perfect machine, & will ALWAYS achieve balance.
I fell off that razor, & You are what landed.
I gotta go.
There y'all have it.............I'm just speechless. Not only does the cat have my tongue, but it went 'an buried it in the litterbox... so i'm off to the Green Hell w/ a pillow, & blanket, & a pocket full of cash, & I'm just gonna spend money till I wake up under the table in the mornin'.
I woke up in the late-mid-early mornin' with one blast furnace of a hangover, so I've been gettin' ready to fly skyways slower than a slug.
I gotta get busy, so, i'll be right as rain in about an hour.
Ya know what though?...maybe this Gaia thing has an itchin' to evolve or somethin' I don't know... It's just as likely these Green Front fellas might be lookin' ta play politics & 'get Sirius'... "ya have ta TRUST me." he says...I..said......whatever... y'all know what I mean.
I wasn't born yesterday, & I think I'll just go about my business 'till I get a REASON ta trust me.
I just ain't been worth a bushel of rotten potatoes today.
I went sluggin' around Islay all dispondant & the like, & when I finally made my way spaceward, my previous evenin's tactical inebreation gave me a good talkin' to...
It started the moment I lifted off the pad & out the door: I was feelin' ten times every G-force my thruster was givin' me, & I had to go & cover one eye just so I could aim my vision well enough to set me a waypoint.
When I finally gumped my way through that, I got me ten types of vertigo just lookin' at the space-stuff flyin' past my window, & it took every ounce of my bein' to keep all the vomit-chunks at the back of my throat & off my console.
The matress I sleep on in the corner of my ship has been gettin' a might thin since I'm spendin' more money than i'm makin'...So I managed to cold-sweat my way to Harris & buy me a Rheinland Humpback.
I made it back to my front yard with a fair number of engine parts, but, it hurt ta look at the paltry profit pile I got for it all.
Hell, for the short spell w/ the GOOD memories, I was a freighter captian with a crew & everything...makin' credits hand over fist.
...Well, I didn't say it per 'se in my letter to myself, but, ...IF I get my meanin'...The times really are a-changin'
Ah well, no matter what you do for a livin' there's always a sunrise at some point.
I got alot to talk to talk about today, but, I got all manner of distractions buzzin' my tower.
this mornin' I ran into a couple of BSG fellas, & they let me know real neighborly-like ta get off my petuit, & fix my rep issues. Much obliged, I headed back ta Edinburgh for a clean pair 'o ....socks.
Not even 10 minutes later, someone who knew me was 2-steppin' her way into my piece of sky outside of Islay.
Now, I ain't quick to judge...or trust...but, I looked out my windshield, & had a little bit of what the book-smart call an epiphany.
I can't rightly explain, but I thought it was the best idea I ever heard when she invited me ta dock & walk the deckplates w/ 'er.
She kept my pace as we were walkin'...past the bar...past the equipment shop... just roamin' really. (remember now y'all, I like to mosey) Anyhow, she was sayin' her name is 'Ebloa Kentigearna' & she just couldn't let a sleeping dog lie.
She continued tellin' me snippits about some others, & that they've all been takin' turns shadowin' me from time to time ever since I rented a room on back on Denver.
Apperently I owe an hombre named Dengue Connor & a pit-woofie called Hannah Lassa a fair share of coin for loosin' some sorta bet.
By the time we made it full circle back to the bar, I went & learned that my name is Marburg McEwan, & I'm basically (for lack of words,) 'hiding in plain sight' for a spell fer some reason.
She was real selective about what she was tellin' me.
I'm perfectly fine w/ that fer now though, cause I don't need my routine ruckused up all at once...In these recent hazy weeks of mine, I HAVE at least learnt of myself that I HATE chaos sumthin' awful.
Up to now, I've come to reckon that both life & death fell outta the ugly tree together, hittin' every single branch on the way down... way, way back at the startin' gate of the universe...But, at least they got a perfect order to 'em. (I went & noticed that on a lazy day when I was tossin' rocks into a lake on Denver, watchin' how perfectly spherical the ripples were.)
I'll tell more 'bout my day shortly...for now, I gotta go pay my station dues for the week.
I know I said i'd get back ta ya'll shortly, but, I went & had myself another epiphany: We all go lookin' for Oz, & Shangra-La, & the like, but just wind up everywhere else....outta the fryin' pan, & into Hell.
I went & had a good day so far, but I should mention yesterday first.
After my visit with Ms. Ebola Kentigearna, she pointed the way to Hegoland, so I could square up with them ALG Fellas. They were just as acomodatin' as they could be, & now my transponder is chirpin' out a Gaian tune fer the listening enjoyment of anyone in earshot 'o me.:)
Some of the Gaian's 'round here though, are still lookin' my way a might shifty.
Well, I figure they still got every right to still get a little cock-eyed my way, so, I've been spendin' the day doin' my best to putting their skittishness 'o me in the trash.
I started out by shooting down some Bret' Police weapon platforms, & pulled all the Lawmen into my hold after I smacked 'em around fer a spell. After all, I didn't want them fellers ta snuff it in the middle 'o nowhere.
I got me a fair number of sheckels fer the cops, & started ta wonder what happens to them boys that get sold. I'd hate to think they just become property...That ain't right for nobody. Those Lawmen dart around like gnats...gettin' in yer ears, up yer nose & whatnot. BUT, I'm an Outlaw, not a Criminal, & every single one of those boys get a salute from me fer a good rumble.
Too bad they just happen to be on the other side of the line I'm toein' now... Oh well.
As for those Spa & Cruise Dandys...There ain't no two ways about it: they simply rub me the wrong way, & I'm starting to get all offended just knowin' they breathe air.
Problem is, I don't wanna risk possably allowin' that waitress that I'm sweet on ta come to any harm...
A couple 'o folks gave me a call from Leeds, and, since I saw no harm in it, I went to go say howdy.
The first feller was named 'Vas Deferens' & I got so tickeled thinkin' to myself about the kind 'o ribbing he must've had to go through everytime they called his name during roll back in grade school. (Mr. & Mrs. Deferens have themselves a none-too-sly sense of humor.):)
The other Dude was a quiet Outcast named Skib, & he seemed the type that prefers ta talk in gun-speak than words. (& I respect that eight ways from Sunday) ...Even though I do belive that my new Gaian Kin would rather I was feuding with him, I just didn't see the point. He was mindin' his manners & I was mindin' mine...PLUS, I really liked his boat.
During our visit, Vas & I had a friendly-fire exchange ta check shield stress, up until Skib was itching to trek on ta bloodier pastures that is. So, at that point, we parted company & I went back to Islay to do some chores. (I have the habit of bein' abit messy 'round my cabin, so there is always something or other in there that needs tending to.)
While I was doin' my chores, I kept thinkin' of that darlin' from the Sh*tland that once stood in the very doorway I was clearin' a path to... so I made my way to the Green Hell hopin' to find someone that would recolect ever seein' a pretty blonde roamin' these here hallways.
The gentleman that yanked on my fishin' line was the guy that runs the equipment shop here on station. He was explaining while puttin' another drink into himself: "Uhh, YEAH! I SCHUURELY remember that one!...Totally unforgetable! Shannon...Something...no, SHARON Something...ummmm.....WAIT!!! NO, it was without a doubt.. uh, Rhiannon......Something."
"You sure about all that now?" I asked, all skeptical.
"YES!!" he replied ta me indignatly. "....at least I'm almost positve that it's a garanteed maybe." he shrugged finally.
I paid the barkeep for the merchant's next three rounds, & made my way to the Islay Landlord.
She refused to give me her last name because of policy, but, I DID learn that 'Rhiannon Something' did in fact have a standing lease here.
I was ALSO able ta finagle outta the landlord's lease w/ her, that Little Ms. Something does indeed work on the Sh*tland, AND that TODAY happened to be one of her days off.
The Universe is smilin' large at me today...So, I'm gonna go grab my duster, head fer the rowboat...& pick a fight.
