Paul Kater - Bactine

Another young man, merely a rather grown up kid, walked up to him, as if waiting for this cue. “Sir? Are you looking for help?” He had a sign on the lapel of his coat, stating that his name was Mr. Benjin and he was an employee of the Airlift Enterprise.

“Yes, I am. I need someone to bring my luggage to this address…” Daniel fumbled a piece of paper from his pocket, checked that it was the right one and handed it to the boy.

“I can arrange that, sir, no problem, sir.” Mr. Benjin lifted a small wooden box with a round brass plaque on it. The plaque was severely scratched.

Daniel stared at the box, then at the boy, not making the connection for several long seconds. “Oh, crap,” it escaped from him. Well done, Daniel. Two minutes on the face of this planet and you already kick protocol in the balls, he told himself. He fumbled with the ring he was now wearing, aimed and tapped the ring’s green stone against the brass plaque. It would deduct a number of credits from some shady bank account he should have here.

“Thank you sir,” the boy said. “Is there anything else of your wishing?”

Daniel felt uncomfortable with all this sir stuff. He found another paper. “Yes. I need transportation to Seigner Waldo Skinsh ko Talush.” He hoped he pronounced the name correctly, which was doubtful given the puzzled expression of Mr. Benjin. “He is the president of the Ship Owner Society?”

The boy’s face lit up. “Of course, sir.” To Daniel it almost sounded like ‘learn to pronounce our language, idiot.’ The young man, dressed in a shrunken version of the suits Daniel saw all around, asked him to follow.

Mr. Benjin guided Daniel over one of the many pathways that were cutting through the meticulously maintained lawn that lay around the Embarcado Circle. At the end of the path was a funny looking building, a mix of a tent and a waiting room. Inside were benches with cushions, tables with refreshments and a friendly young lady who was delighted to assist Daniel.

“Welcome to our planet, Seigner, and to the town of Skarak,” she said. “I see you need some assistance to find your way in our town. Let me help you with this.” She led Daniel outside again, after offering him some tea which he gladly accepted.

After drinking his tea, he followed her to one of the carriages that were waiting outside the tent. The young woman, who had introduced herself as Miss Ridding, explained that Daniel only had to sit down in an available carriage (“preferably one that is at the front, for easier departure, sir”) and tell the carriage where he wanted to go.

“If you have a hydger, you can simply bring up the location and hold it in front of this copper plate,” Miss Ridding said.

“A what?” Daniel did not remember reading or hearing about something called a hydger.

“You will probably get one soon, sir, do not worry. If you have no hydger, you just touch the copper plate and state the number that makes for the location where you want to go.” Miss Ridding pointed at the row of numbers on Daniel’s paper, beneath the name of the president of the Ship Owners Society. “Also hold your ring in front of the plate, to identify yourself. If the fare is pre-arranged no credit will be subtracted. Will you be well with this, sir, or would you require someone to escort you?”

“I will give this a try, Miss Ridding. Thank you. Is there a fail-safe system, or an emergency call in this carriage, in case things go wrong?”

Miss Ridding smiled at the ignorance of this tall man and his somewhat crumpled appearance. “What could possibly go wrong, Seigner? If you feel uncomfortable during the voyage, just touch the copper plate and tell the carriage to take you home. It will then bring you back here.”

“Thank you. Miss Ridding. You are very kind.”

“It is my work to assist people, sir. Have a pleasant stay.” Miss Ridding smiled and nodded, then stepped back. She waited until Daniel had climbed into the carriage, touched the plate, recited the numbers and the carriage pulled away.

Daniel watched out the windows left and right as the carriage took him through the streets. Most of what he saw matched the things he had seen in the videos and pictures. He marvelled at the buildings and statues and gardens, grinned about the people who were walking around.

The carriage came to a halt in front of a building that had the shape of a boat. The carriage door opened, as a sign that the tour had ended. Daniel stepped out and walked up to the gate. It was closed. And remained closed. Behind him the carriage drove off. “And now…” Daniel wondered. He noticed a scratched brass plaque. On a hunch he held his ring against it. The gate swung open, allowing him access to the short greystone path that led up to the door of the building. “Swell. I’m really getting the hang of this.” At the door to the building he looked for another brass plate. In vain. “So…”

The door opened. A man in a black suit, wearing a frivolous crème coloured shirt and a deep red tie, said: “May I help you?”

Daniel introduced himself. He needed the paper with the name again and carefully added ‘president of the Ship Owners Society’ again.

“Oh, absolutely, sir. We are awaiting you. My name is Varning. Would you please follow…”

Mr. Varning led Daniel up some majestic stairs and into a corridor that had a carpet thick enough to lose something in. There were paintings on the walls left and right, and lights burnt in small chandeliers everywhere. They stopped at a door, Varning knocked and proceeded inside without waiting.

“Seigner Skinsh ko Talush, sir Daniel Zacharias.”

Daniel noticed that he was not a Seigner here, merely a sir. Not something he hated.

From behind a large dark desk that looked like it was made of wood of course, a lean man with grey hair and piercing blue eyes stepped to Daniel, extending a hand. “Welcome, Mr. Zacharias. How was your voyage? I am pleased that you came here speedily. Would you care for some tea perhaps, or another refreshment? Varning, some tea for Mr. Zacharias please.”

“Certainly, Seigner,” Mr. Varning smiled and with a correct bow he left the room.

Seigner Skinsh ko Talush offered Daniel a seat and detailed the problems that the Society was facing concerning the increased number of pirate attacks on their ships. “It has become a real problem, Mr. Zacharias,” Waldo Skinsh ko Talush said. “That is why we have asked for support from outside. Our people are past their wits and we see no way to stop the pirates. There has been a lottery to decide on who’s ship you will be sailing first. The lucky person is the honourable Seigner Clelem Dandra ko Galem. You will meet him shortly, and he will inform you of the specific details. Do you have any questions so far, sir?”

Daniel asked about weaponry and defence systems that were allowed aboard the ships, but the answer to that was rather vague. This did not appear to be Seigner Skinsh’s forte.

There was a knock on the door and Mr. Varning entered, announcing the arrival of Seigner Clelem Dandra ko Galem. Behind him was a man of average height, blond-grey hair and blue eyes, but unlike those of the president of the Society. His clothing was immaculate, almost too perfect to be real.

After formal introductions, Clelem said: “Mr. Zacharias, you will be sailing on my ship, the Pricosine. My serving man, Mr. Slindris, will show you where it is once you have settled in. Until that time I will see to it that the skipper, Mr. Ulaman Xhylor, will be notified of your arrival. The Pricosine is in harbour at the moment, so that is a convenient coincidence.”

Clelem struck Daniel as a nice man. Very strict and formal, but he had an open and honest appearance. “Thank you, Seigner,” Daniel said, “I hope I will be able to do some good for your ship.”