The Life of the World to Come (8 page)
Read The Life of the World to Come Online
Authors: Kage Baker
Tags: #Adult, #Science Fiction, #Adventure, #Fantasy, #C429, #Extratorrents, #Kat, #Travel
“I hate this bloody century,” quavered Rutherford.
“Oh, you don’t really,” Chatterji told him brightly. “Did
you see the way that fellow slunk out of here? Now, that’s what I call power. Face it: in what other era would the likes of us have the authority to shape history? Or tell a municipal official to go to the devil, for that matter. This is our time, chaps, and we’re making it count!”
you see the way that fellow slunk out of here? Now, that’s what I call power. Face it: in what other era would the likes of us have the authority to shape history? Or tell a municipal official to go to the devil, for that matter. This is our time, chaps, and we’re making it count!”
He picked up Rutherford’s tankard and handed it back to him, and lifted his own so the firelight shone on it. “Let’s drink that toast, shall we? To the New Man.”
“‘A father for the Superman,’” quoted Rutherford, smiling through his tears.
Ellsworth-Howard noticed belatedly what they were doing and grabbed up his tankard. Racking his brains for an impressive-sounding thing to say, he misremembered something from one of the few films he’d seen.
“To a new world of monsters and gods,” he said, and drank deep.
Smart Alec
For the first four years of his life, Alec Checkerfield wore a life vest.
This was so that if he accidentally went over the side of his parents’ yacht, he would be guaranteed a rescue. It was state of the art, as life vests went in the twenty-fourth century: not only would it have enabled him to bob along like a little cork in the wake of the
Foxy Lady
, it would have reassured him in a soothing voice, broadcast a frequency that repelled sharks, and sounded an immediate alarm on the paging devices worn by every one of the servants on board.
Foxy Lady
, it would have reassured him in a soothing voice, broadcast a frequency that repelled sharks, and sounded an immediate alarm on the paging devices worn by every one of the servants on board.
His parents themselves wore no pagers, which was just as well because if Mummy had noticed Alec was in the water she’d probably have simply waved her handkerchief after him until he was well over the horizon. Daddy would probably have made an effort to rescue Alec, if he weren’t too stoned to notice the emergency; but most of the time he was, which was why the servants had been appointed to save Alec, should the child ever fall overboard. They were all madly fond of Alec, anyway, because he was really a very good little boy, so they were sure to have done a great job, if the need for rescue at sea should ever have arisen.
It never did arise, however, because Alec was a rather well coordinated child too and generally did what he was told, such as obeying safety rules.
And he was a happy child, despite the fact that his mother never set her ice-blue eyes on him if she could help it and his father was as likely to trip over him as speak to him. It didn’t matter that they were terrible at being parents; they were also very rich, which meant they could pay other people to love Alec.
In a later time Alec would look back on the years aboard the
Foxy Lady
as the happiest in his life, and sometimes he’d come across the old group holo and wonder why it had all ended. The picture had been taken in Jamaica, by somebody standing on a mooring catwalk and shooting down on deck.
Foxy Lady
as the happiest in his life, and sometimes he’d come across the old group holo and wonder why it had all ended. The picture had been taken in Jamaica, by somebody standing on a mooring catwalk and shooting down on deck.
There he was, three years old, in his bright red life vest and sailor hat, smiling brightly up at the camera. Assembled around him were all the servants: fabulous Sarah, his Jamaican nurse, arrogantly naked except for blue bathing shorts; Lewin and Mrs. Lewin, the butler and cook; Reggie, Bob, and Cat, the deckhands; and Mr. Trefusis, the first mate. They formed a loving and protective wall between Alec and his mummy and daddy, or Roger and Cecelia, as they preferred to be called.
Roger and Cecelia were visible up on the quarterdeck: Cecelia ignoring them all from her deck chair, a cold presence in a sun hat and dark glasses, reading a novel. Roger was less visible, leaning slouched against the rail, one nerveless hand about to spill a rum highball all over his yachting shoes. He’d turned his face away to look at something just as the image had been recorded, so all you could see was a glimpse of aristocratic profile, blurred and enigmatic.
It hadn’t mattered. Alec had a wonderful life, full of adventures. Sarah would tell him stories about Sir Henry Morgan and all the pirates who used to roam the sea, living on their ships just like Alec did, and how they formed the Free Brotherhood of the Coast, whose secret way of recognizing each other at sea was for one pirate crew to call out, “Where d’ye hail from?” and instead of replying that they were from Kingston or Liverpool or Southampton, the crew of the other ship would cry,
From the sea!
And so they’d know they were pirates too. Alec liked that.
From the sea!
And so they’d know they were pirates too. Alec liked that.
And there was the fun of landing on a new island—what would it be like? Was there any chance there might still be pirates
lurking around? Alec had played on beaches where the sand was white, or yellow, or pink, or black, built castles on all of them and stuck his little pirate flags on their turrets.
Jolly Roger
, that was what the flag was called.
lurking around? Alec had played on beaches where the sand was white, or yellow, or pink, or black, built castles on all of them and stuck his little pirate flags on their turrets.
Jolly Roger
, that was what the flag was called.
Jolly Roger was also what the deckhands called Alec’s daddy when he seemed to be having more than usual difficulty walking or talking. This was generally after he’d been drinking the tall drinks Cat would shake up for him at the bar on the yacht. Sometimes Cat would put a fruit spear in the drinks, cherries and chunks of pineapple skewered on long wooden picks with the paper pirate flag at the top. Sometimes Daddy’s eyes would focus on Alec and he’d present him with the fruit spear and yell for more rum in his drink. Alec would sit under Daddy’s tall chair and eat the pineapple and cherries, making faces at the nasty stuff they’d been soaked in. Then he’d carry the Jolly Roger pick back to his cabin, where he had a whole hoard of them carefully saved for his sand castles.
It was a shame the rum had such an effect on Daddy, because going to get it was always fun. The
Foxy Lady
would drop anchor in some sapphire bay and Sarah would put on a halter top and shoes, and put shoes on Alec, and they’d go ashore together in the launch. As they’d come across the water Sarah might sing out, “
How many houses, baby?
” and Alec would look up at the town and count the houses in his head and he’d tell her how many there were, and she’d tousle his hair and tell him he was right again! And they’d laugh.
Foxy Lady
would drop anchor in some sapphire bay and Sarah would put on a halter top and shoes, and put shoes on Alec, and they’d go ashore together in the launch. As they’d come across the water Sarah might sing out, “
How many houses, baby?
” and Alec would look up at the town and count the houses in his head and he’d tell her how many there were, and she’d tousle his hair and tell him he was right again! And they’d laugh.
Then there’d be a long walk through some island town, past the gracious houses with window boxes full of pink flowers, where parrots flashed and screamed in the green gardens, back to the wappen-bappen places where the houses looked like they were about to fall down, and there would always be a doormouth with no sign and a dark cool room beyond, full of quiet black men sitting at tables, or brown men sitting at tables, or white men turned red from the sun. In one place there was a green and red parrot that knew Alec’s name. “Smart Alec,” it called him, to his delight and the amusement of the quiet men. In another place there was a big mermaid carved out of wood, with flowing hair and bubbies nearly as nice as Sarah’s. Everything smelled new and exciting.
Different as the details might be, the visit was always the
same: he and Sarah would go in, and the quiet men would greet Sarah with welcome and a certain deference, almost awe, as though she were a visiting queen. Invariably a man in an apron would come out, bringing a lemonade for Alec and a glass of white rum for Sarah, and sit at a table with them while his helpers loaded crates into a battered old vehicle. Alec seldom understood what was being said, because people talked differently on different islands; but whether they were in the Caribbean or Polynesia, Sarah always spoke to the quiet men in their own language, as perfectly as though she’d been born among them.
same: he and Sarah would go in, and the quiet men would greet Sarah with welcome and a certain deference, almost awe, as though she were a visiting queen. Invariably a man in an apron would come out, bringing a lemonade for Alec and a glass of white rum for Sarah, and sit at a table with them while his helpers loaded crates into a battered old vehicle. Alec seldom understood what was being said, because people talked differently on different islands; but whether they were in the Caribbean or Polynesia, Sarah always spoke to the quiet men in their own language, as perfectly as though she’d been born among them.
When Alec had finished his lemonade, they’d go out into the sunlight again and the man with the apron would give them a ride back into town with the crates. The crates were nearly always stenciled CROSSE & BLACKWELL’S PICKLED GHERKINS.
And nearly always, they’d spot a stern-looking black or brown or white man in a white uniform, pedaling along on a bicycle, and Sarah would hug Alec tight and cry out in a little silly voice: “Oh, nooo, it’s a policeman! Don’t tell him, Alec, don’t tell him our secret!” This always made Alec giggle, and she’d always go on: “Don’t tell him we’ve got
guns
! Don’t tell him we’ve got
explosives
! Don’t tell him we’ve got
ganja
! Don’t tell him we’ve got
coffee
!” She’d go on and on like this, as they’d bump along trailing dust clouds and squawking birds, and by the time they reached the harbor Alec would be weak with laughter.
guns
! Don’t tell him we’ve got
explosives
! Don’t tell him we’ve got
ganja
! Don’t tell him we’ve got
coffee
!” She’d go on and on like this, as they’d bump along trailing dust clouds and squawking birds, and by the time they reached the harbor Alec would be weak with laughter.
Once they were at the launch, however, she’d be all quiet efficiency, buckling Alec into his seat and then helping the man move the crates into the cargo bay. Sarah was immensely strong and could lift a crate on one hand, just using the other to balance. When all the crates were on board, the man would hold out a plaquette and Sarah would bring out Daddy’s identification disk and pay for the crates. Then they’d zoom back out to the
Foxy Lady
. They’d put out to sea, and the next day there would be rows of brown bottles under the bar again, and Cat would be busy shaking up the tall drinks, and Daddy would be sitting on the quarterdeck with a glass in his hand, staring vacantly away at the blue horizon.
Foxy Lady
. They’d put out to sea, and the next day there would be rows of brown bottles under the bar again, and Cat would be busy shaking up the tall drinks, and Daddy would be sitting on the quarterdeck with a glass in his hand, staring vacantly away at the blue horizon.
Not everybody thought that the trips to get the rum were such a good idea, however.
Alec was sitting in the saloon one day after just such a trip, quietly coloring. He had made a picture of a shark fighting with an anchor, because he knew how to draw anchors and he knew how to draw sharks, and that was all the logic the scene needed. The saloon was just aft of the galley. Because it was very warm that day the connecting door was open, and he could hear Lewin and Mrs. Lewin talking in disgusted tones.
“He only gets away with it because he’s a peer.”
“Peer or no, you’d think he’d stop it for the kid’s sake! He was such a great teacher, too, and what’s he given that all up for? And what would happen if we were ever boarded for inspection? They’d take the baby away in a minute, you know they would.”
Chop, chop, chop
, Mrs. Lewin was cutting up peppers as she talked.
Chop, chop, chop
, Mrs. Lewin was cutting up peppers as she talked.
“Don’t think so. J. I. S. would smooth it over, same as always. Between his lineage and Them, he can do whatever he bloody well pleases, even in London.”
“Yeh, well! Things was different before Alec came, weren’t they? And anyway it’s
wrong
, Malcolm, you know it is, it’s criminal, it’s dangerous, it’s unhealthy, and really the best thing we could do for him would be to tell a public health monitor about it.”
wrong
, Malcolm, you know it is, it’s criminal, it’s dangerous, it’s unhealthy, and really the best thing we could do for him would be to tell a public health monitor about it.”
“And where’d we be, then? The last thing J. I. S. wants is some hospital looking at—” Lewin started through the doorway and saw Alec in the saloon. He retreated and shut the door.
Alec sat frowning at his picture. He knew that Daddy’s drinking made people sad, but he’d never thought it was dangerous. On the other hand, he knew that rules must be obeyed, and dangerous things must be reported at once, like water below decks or smoke in any of the cabins.
He got up and trotted out of the saloon. There was Daddy on the aft deck, smiling dreamily at the sun above the yardarm.
“Hey, there, Alec,” he greeted the little boy. He had a sip of his drink and reached out to tousle Alec’s hair. “Look out there to starboard. Is that a pretty good island? Should we go there, maybe?”
Alec shivered with joy. Daddy almost never noticed him, and here he was asking Alec’s opinion about something.
“Yeah,” he cried. “Let’s go!”
But Daddy’s gaze had drifted away, out to the horizon, and he lifted his glass again. “Some green island we haven’t found yet,” he murmured, “farther on ’n farther on ’n farther on …”
Alec remembered what he had wanted to ask. He reached out and pushed at Daddy’s glass with his index finger.
“Is that crinimal?” he said. It was a moment before Daddy played that back and turned to gape at him.
“What?”
“Is that dangerous?” Alex said, and mimed perfectly the drinking-from-a-bottle gesture he had seen the servants make in reference to his father. “You have to obey the rules. If I see danger I’m supposed to tell.”
“Huh,” said Daddy, and he rubbed his scratchy chin. He hadn’t shaved in about a week. His eyes narrowed and he looked at Alec slyly.
“Tell me, Alec, ’m I hurting anybody?”
“No.”
“We ever had an accident on this ship? Anything happen ol’ Roger can’t handle?”
“No.”
“Then where’s the harm?” Daddy had another sip. “Tell me that. ’M a nice guy even when I’m stoned. A gentleman you know. Old school tie.”
Alec had no idea what that meant, but he pushed on:
“How come it’s crinimal?”
“Aha.” Daddy tilted his glass until the ice fell down against his lip. He crunched ice and continued, “Okay, Alec. Big fact of life. There’s a whole bunch of busybodies and scaredy-cats who make a whole bunch of rules and regs about things they don’t want anybody doing. See? So nobody gets to have any fun. Like, no booze. They made a law about no booze. And they’re all, ‘You can’t lie about in the sun because you get cancer,’ and they’re all, ‘You can’t swim in the ocean ’cos you might pee,’ and they’re all, ‘You can’t eat sweets because they make you fat,’ okay? Dumb stuff. And they make laws so you go to hospital if you do this little dumb stuff! Okay?
“That’s why we don’t live in London, kiddo. That’s why we live out here on the
Lady
, so no scaredy-cat’s gonna tell
us what to do. Okay? Now then. If you went running to the scaredy-cats to tell ‘em about the rum, you’d be an even worse thing than them. You’d be a telltale! And you gotta remember you’re a gentleman, and no gentleman is ever a telltale. See? ’Cos if you did tell about the rum, well, they’d come on board and they’d see me with my little harmless drinkies and they’d see your mummy with her books and they’d see Sarah with her lovely bare tits and then you know what they’d do? Daddy’d go to hospital and they’d take you away. Li’l Alec ain’t gonna be a telltale, is he? He’s my li’l gentleman, ain’t he?”
Lady
, so no scaredy-cat’s gonna tell
us what to do. Okay? Now then. If you went running to the scaredy-cats to tell ‘em about the rum, you’d be an even worse thing than them. You’d be a telltale! And you gotta remember you’re a gentleman, and no gentleman is ever a telltale. See? ’Cos if you did tell about the rum, well, they’d come on board and they’d see me with my little harmless drinkies and they’d see your mummy with her books and they’d see Sarah with her lovely bare tits and then you know what they’d do? Daddy’d go to hospital and they’d take you away. Li’l Alec ain’t gonna be a telltale, is he? He’s my li’l gentleman, ain’t he?”
“I don’t want ’em to take me away!” Alec wailed, tears in his eyes. Daddy dropped his glass, reaching clumsily to pull Alec up on his lap, and the glass broke, but he didn’t notice.
“’Course you don’t. ’Cos we’re free here on the
Foxy Lady
, and you’re a gentleman and you got a right to be free, free, free. Okay? You won’t tell on Daddy, not my li’l Alec. Gonna be an earl someday, when Daddy’s gone to Fiddler’s Green. So anyway. You just let old Jolly Roger go his ways and you never be a telltale, okay? And don’t pay them no mind with their dumb rules.”
Foxy Lady
, and you’re a gentleman and you got a right to be free, free, free. Okay? You won’t tell on Daddy, not my li’l Alec. Gonna be an earl someday, when Daddy’s gone to Fiddler’s Green. So anyway. You just let old Jolly Roger go his ways and you never be a telltale, okay? And don’t pay them no mind with their dumb rules.”
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