"Yes, that's quite the explanation," Deslock said. "What the hell. What the hell. And what is this? Are we kidnapping people now? Really? That wasn't something I was anticipating, you know, when I set up this whole Expedition thing. Not exactly in the plan, as it were. The posters said 'Gold, Glory, Adventure,' not 'We will fucking kidnap people right of their own godsdamn boat.'"
He leveled a finger at the bedraggled captain. "And who the hell are you, anyway?"
The smuggler was a large man, with some odd mannerisms. He had a fine captain's hat on his head, but his clothes were of the cheapest, coarsest cloth imaginable. He smelled, too, a faintly nauseating sweetness on the edge of detection. He smelled like death and flowers and had a face like a skull.
"Who the hell are you?" he asked, which may not have been the most intelligent of questions to lead off with.
"Supposedly, I'm the guy in charge of the people who just kidnapped you," Deslock said, "Though I never thought I'd say those words."
"You're more of zhi Arrianas' men?" the captain said. "Well, fuck you then."
"I am Tyrone fucking Deslock," said Deslock. "I'm supposed to be on my way to the Unknown Continent, but now I'm stuck here dealing with you people, and we're being attacked by fucking birds, and half my crew is missing, and you will tell me what is going on here because this is not the kind of day where I put up with bullshit like this."
The captain looked at the explorer blankly for a moment, then spat at his feet.
"To hell with it," said Deslock, turning his back. "Do whatever you like with your bloody captive, Rhee. I wash my hands of this sorry mess."
The creek was fast and smooth, flowing from a source somewhere beneath the tower on the hill. The water was perfectly clear, so you could see every rounded pebble beneath it. Doctor Nexaddo had run across it while traversing the island earlier, and now he led the way back to it, somewhat reluctantly.
"I still say you should have stayed at the longboat," he told Keil, who ignored him for the moment.
They were moving the empty barrels by means of a sledge, dragged by the Doctor's tiger. Later, when they were filled with water, they might all have to get behind them and push: but for now the poor, disgruntled cat was enough.
He leveled a finger at the bedraggled captain. "And who the hell are you, anyway?"
The smuggler was a large man, with some odd mannerisms. He had a fine captain's hat on his head, but his clothes were of the cheapest, coarsest cloth imaginable. He smelled, too, a faintly nauseating sweetness on the edge of detection. He smelled like death and flowers and had a face like a skull.
"Who the hell are you?" he asked, which may not have been the most intelligent of questions to lead off with.
"Supposedly, I'm the guy in charge of the people who just kidnapped you," Deslock said, "Though I never thought I'd say those words."
"You're more of zhi Arrianas' men?" the captain said. "Well, fuck you then."
"I am Tyrone fucking Deslock," said Deslock. "I'm supposed to be on my way to the Unknown Continent, but now I'm stuck here dealing with you people, and we're being attacked by fucking birds, and half my crew is missing, and you will tell me what is going on here because this is not the kind of day where I put up with bullshit like this."
The captain looked at the explorer blankly for a moment, then spat at his feet.
"To hell with it," said Deslock, turning his back. "Do whatever you like with your bloody captive, Rhee. I wash my hands of this sorry mess."
____________________________
The creek was fast and smooth, flowing from a source somewhere beneath the tower on the hill. The water was perfectly clear, so you could see every rounded pebble beneath it. Doctor Nexaddo had run across it while traversing the island earlier, and now he led the way back to it, somewhat reluctantly.
"I still say you should have stayed at the longboat," he told Keil, who ignored him for the moment.
They were moving the empty barrels by means of a sledge, dragged by the Doctor's tiger. Later, when they were filled with water, they might all have to get behind them and push: but for now the poor, disgruntled cat was enough.
