Off Center (The Lament)

by Power, P. S.

"I'll get with Will in the morning, or later tonight. Right now..." It was getting a little late, but not so much she couldn't do more work on the chests she was making. If the glue was set enough, she could put the hinges on them. Then she could do the last sanding and treat them with linseed oil. She would have preferred a fine lacquer, a good and hard one with a bit of shine to it, but they had the oil, and it was free.

  At this rate, they'd have the boxes ready in two days or so. It would be a lot harder to make the instruments, but she'd be able to cobble something together that would work. If she had more time, or better materials, she could do a lot more. That would have to wait though. The Lament was only her home for a few more weeks after all.

  "Oh! Right, you were going to give me tips?" She said it without thinking, but Mara looked at her strangely for a while, and then she and Claire laughed.

  "Wait, you were serious? Well..." What came next was about fifteen minutes of talk that made Clark go red faced and Claire look devilish. Mara did too, but that was so normal for her that no one noticed.

  There were some decent ideas, and everyone, including Clark, agreed that she shouldn't do anything she wasn't comfortable with. She understood that, after a fashion, but it was her choice to do anything at all, so she couldn't see the problem with it really.

  The one thing that was different with her plan was that Doctor Millis came to dinner with the rest of them, instead of having it brought to him. He didn't sit with Pran and Roy, which would have been odd. His place was with Bard Benjamin and the Captain, who had Paul to her right. Even the Second Mate was with the regular crew. The place was full that night, since only a few people were on duty at all. Zeke wasn't there, but Roy explained that, with a bit of a smile.

  "The new hand gets to muck the stalls. It isn't hard on the ship, but it has to be done daily. I promised to save him some food." There was a bit of humor to his words, but Pran just wondered how that was done. Mucking. She didn't ask however, since it wasn't exactly a good dinner conversation. She was about to ask for the salt to be passed when the Doctor cleared his throat a little and rather casually raised his voice a bit.

  It was sort of like what Mara had done earlier, except that he was clearly doing it so that she could hear him. Or that was what she thought was going on.

  "Our guest, Mr. Butcher, should be able to stand trial in a few days. At least if he recovers at the current rate. He seems greatly recovered, and ready to prove himself innocent of the first charges."

  Pran nearly snorted at the mistake.

  The Doctor shouldn't have mentioned that there were any charges past the ones involving the child. Not levied at Will at least. There would still be those against the men that had beaten him, since that had happened no matter what else was going on. It was against the law to beat a prisoner. If they attacked while in custody, the guards were supposed to control them without use of force, if they could. If not, they had a duty to control the person with the least amount of damage possible. Even Guardians would have been up on charges if they'd beaten a man without special dispensation.

  There were a lot of rules like that really. If the Guardians had to use something on duty, even to get their job of the moment done or save a life, they were required to pay for it, out of their own pocket. Every time. It wasn't a cost savings measure on the part of the organization, but a control put in place to prevent them from abusing their power. It worked pretty well, as far as Pran had seen.

  At least Clark and Mara were both really honest like that. They'd go hungry rather than take someone's food, for instance.

  Pran raised her hand a bit, trying to catch the old man's attention. He looked at her, but seemed concerned, which was out of place.

  "Oh, hey... Will asked the other day if someone would take care of some things for him? After the trial he's planning on leaving directly. Are you doing that for him, or should I?" She made it sound innocent and no one seemed to think all that much of it or anything. The Doctor blinked.

  "Ah... I don't know."

  She grinned and slapped Roy on the arm.

  "Well, I can see to that in the morning, if he still wants it done. Of course that means I get the goods he's asking for if he's found guilty. Not that I have any use for a meat wagon and some horses. He should get some food too. I need to sneak into town for it, or they won't sell to me." She picked up her piece of brown bread and took a bite with crust in it, as if she couldn't care any less about the idea, except for the fact that she could obviously make a few coin off of it. That part was potentially enough to get her to do it.

  Captain Mina looked over at her and waved.

  "We don't have space for that, so if you can't sell it, you'll need to leave it all. Maybe trade for something we have space for? I'm loading up on that apple jack the headman's girl makes, myself. You might see if Mr. Butcher is willing to let you agent his meat." That got a laugh from the room, because they were obviously all ten years old.

  Pran wrinkled her nose.

  "I... do not think I'll put it that way. I can see to that, if he wants. They want it for the winter, but won't trade with him directly, even after the trial, I bet. Maybe I can get a percentage or something? You know, trade for him and get ten percent of the goods from it? Or... That might be too much."

  She didn't want to abuse the man's current situation after all. Or at least wouldn't if she didn't know he was one of the people that was going around stealing other people's lives.

  That whole thing was the real problem. As far as she was concerned at least. They weren't just other people, or even just trying to take over. They stole the inner selves of people, killing them, she thought, and taking everything away from them, taking a second helping of life, by depriving another person.

  Mara waved at her with a fork that had three tines on it and a wooden handle.

  "They have extra on dried apples too, and some pears that didn't look half bad. You can eat it, if nothing else."

  Then, as if on a signal, everyone went back to eating.

  Roy shook his head a bit forlornly.

  "That's a good deal. If it works I mean. Do you think he'll go for it? He thinks he's going to be found innocent, right? If he really is, you won't get much. That agenting thing is the way to go that way. You'll get paid then, no matter what." Food was, she thought, one of Roy's favorite things, so he started eating decently fast after that, trying to time himself, so that he wouldn't be finished before the Captain. That was rude, she thought, even if she had no clue why.

  No one left before the Captain did, not even Judge Claire or the Guardians.

  Next to her Roy looked across the room, and pitched his voice low.

  "So... Are we still, I mean, tonight?" He was trying to sound relaxed about it, but also giving her a way out? That was really sweet of him.

  "That's the plan. About eight-thirty? That way we can get to bed early, after." She didn't realize that anyone else would be listening, but Bill, the Second Mate chortled, and nudged the man next to him, who was dressed like a regular ship's hand. Like Roy, except without the bit of braid on his shoulder. Blinking it occurred to her that Roy was actually apprenticing to be an officer, not just a person that did regular work. That it had never occurred to her before... That made sense when she thought about it. He was always down in engineering, working each day. She had no clue what he did. For some reason she'd always figured that he was washing the decks and taking direction from someone else.

  "Hey, sounds like Roy is getting lucky tonight, eh, eh?" There was a bit of gentle laughter then, but most of the people just ate, even though Paul looked up from his plate and glared at Bill a bit. He didn't speak though.

  Pran fixed the Second Mate with a raised brow and a small vulpine smile. It should make her look both sexy and a bit predatory at the same time. She'd practiced it at school.

  "Actually, I'm the one getting lucky." Then she stopped, as the man waved his hand and sighed.

  "Sorry, not my business. Not my business at all."<
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  Paul cleared his throat and spoke up, "I hear we might be needed to handle medicines going into Hilden? We're the closest ship. If the call comes in we'll have to go, so everyone should stay ready. Given the sound of it that will happen in the middle of the night. It means a mountain landing, so, weather depending, we might have to send people in on foot." That got a groan, but no one did more than mutter about hating mountain work.

  Roy explained it to her, letting his leg bump hers under the table. She pushed back a bit, since she was the one that was suggesting they do things.

  "In the hills and high mountain regions there are updrafts and strange air currents. We can't land there directly, and Hilden is about halfway up a decently large hunk of stone. If we have to go in on an emergency run like that, it will mean going to get the medicine, then heading back at full speed and trying to take it in on foot. At least if there's snow, which is what this all means, I bet. If they weren't close to snowed in, then they'd just send someone in a wagon to the bottom of the hill for us. They might anyway." He took what seemed to be the last bite of his food, and then sat, waiting patiently.

  Captain Mina sometimes would just sit for a while and talk to people. Make certain they had everything they needed and felt like she cared. Today she stood almost immediately and moved toward the door, turning to call out to Paul.

  "What's the progress on those new foot lockers? Do you have that in motion at all yet?" She didn't glance at Pran at all, which seemed a little odd.

  Paul did, so she answered, even if it wasn't really addressed to her.

  "They should be ready tomorrow. About one or so? It would be best if the oil was allowed to soak in longer, but if it gets wiped down about once a month for the first year with it, that will work too."

  That didn't change Mina's thoughts at all, it seemed so she just barked at Paul a little.

  "Check'em. I'll be monitoring the radio until third shift starts. Bill, you're on relief for that, so get some sleep."

  That got him to stand and stretch a bit.

  "Off to slumber land then. So you think the call will come in? For the meds?"

  Captain Mina looked at him and nodded. She didn't say anything else and left quickly, as if it might happen at any moment. Roy stood up then too. He looked troubled now that the Captain was gone.

  "Not good. If we get a call like that, then it means that things are pretty bad there. Some kind of fever outbreak or something. I wonder if Doc Millis knows more about it? They'll keep him in the loop, for something like this." He wasn't trying to speak to the room, but the man himself heard his name and turned, still eating.

  "It sounds like an air-born fever, spread by droplets in the air. A lot of coughing and sneezing. My guess is Tigris Fever, but until I see actual samples, I won't know. I don't think I'll be able to make it in, if it requires a vigorous person to manage it. We'll have to send someone else in that case." If it was coming from a younger man she would have suspected they were trying to be lazy.

  From this man it just seemed prudent. Also like it wouldn't work. Hopefully this little town knew more than they had been told, or they were probably going to all die. How could they know what medicine to bring, if they didn't know the illness? She nearly asked, when the Doctor sighed.

  Loudly.

  "We'll need to take in a whole medical pack. It will have treatments for the most common problems that fit the symptoms, as long as none have been missed. Probably even then, unless this is something new. In that case, well, then we deal with it." He seemed ready to ramble on then, and most of the ship's hands tried not to look pained at the idea of a lecture, but Judge Claire stopped him with a gentle look that indicated she had a question.

  It was really well done. Pran tried to memorize how she did it, because it might come up later. Brushing at the fuzz on her head absently, she nearly missed what was said.

  "If you cannot manage the climb, how will you do your job? Won't the people that go need you?"

  The man nodded.

  "A real problem. If I were younger, I'd simply plan to go myself. They have communications gear though, don't they? A radio? Perhaps if we use that, I might act from the ship, and be able to help that way?" He sounded pensive.

  It made sense to her, but Clark glared at the man and stood up, making the table in front of him shake a tiny bit. People noticed and turned in their seats.

  "That's not a topic for an open room, Doctor." Then he left, grumpily.

  Pran didn't think that anyone would be all that amazed by the radio. She'd spoken over it herself, and had to figure that everyone sort of knew about it, if only second hand. Most of the hands didn't linger on the bridge. There was that inconvenient Captain there for one thing. Most of them seemed to hide during the day, as far as she could tell. Then, in port, what else was there to do? On the ship they cleaned, but that would take about four hours, because it was always being done. Then it was time to sit around and kill time. Pran hadn't had a problem with that yet, but she could see how some might.

  Paul waved to her, "boxes?"

  "Sure. Let me dump my plate. Later, Roy." She smiled at him, which got a wave in return.

  It didn't take too long to get everything into place, because almost everyone was just sitting and talking about Clark and how weird he was. The officers all left about then, and while Pran strictly didn't have to, and Mara stayed, since Claire did, most of the people she cared about left. Including Doc Millis.

  When she'd started to actually think of him as a friend, she wasn't really certain. Before it came out that he was a creepy killer. Then, a lot of people had killed others, hadn't they? Did it mean they were all evil? Forever?

  What about just stabbing someone that needed it? Or shooting them to protect someone else? She smiled, knowing that most people would probably think she were evil if they really knew about her. Doctor Millis didn't blame her though, did he? Not in any way that showed. Was that enough to befriend him? He was nice to her, with the exception of that truth juice he'd given her. Even that was understandable. He just wanted to know she was really on his side.

  It was hard to keep everything in her head. He was on the wrong side. That was the ultimate problem, and she had to stick with her other friends, since no matter what she did, she'd never be one of the Downloads. If they put one in her, she'd be gone. Forever.

  That picked her side for her, didn't it? She had to back the real people against the machine driven ghosts of the past, because she wanted to live. That was what she did best, wasn't it? Survive?

  Paul didn't speak to her when they left, until they were well away from the mess hall, toward the back of the second floor, where the woodworking room was. Then he shook his head.

  "Radios are controlled technology. Most people don't really need them at home, so they don't get them, but to prevent people lusting after them, we aren't supposed to spread the word in that regard. Jealous people make bad and selfish choices."

  Pran nodded, as if she actually understood the idea. In a way she did. It would be amazing if a Bard could play in one place and be heard in another, wouldn't it? Rather than have an audience of twelve, she might have, twenty or even fifty listeners. That would be something, wouldn't it?

  "In here. The sooner we get them out of the way, the better. This isn't a huge place. I need to get the first oil on them, and then let it soak for the night. Here, let me do that." She started working, as the man examined the boxes carefully, as if he were looking at artwork, rather than hastily made boxes with crude carvings on the top. They weren't bad, but too simple to count as art. As soon as he was done looking at the first one, Pran moved it and started the oil work.

  "These are good. Solid, and prettier than the others we have. Quick too. I think Mina will be pleased. Except that people are going to argue over who gets to use these, looking so nice. Can you do repairs too? Or, will you? I have some things. Chairs, the shelves in the Captain's office, that kind of thing? If you get the time, I mean?"

  P
ran thought about it and finally nodded. She wasn't going to stint the Captain. Not if she could help it. Paul either. They might well both end up being important to her future, in one way or another. She kept working, and ran over her plans with the man, since she would have, if she were really doing it.

  "So, after this I should see if Will actually wants me to set up that wagon and gear for him, for after the trial." She pushed an oily corner of the gray rag into a crevasse on the top of the chest as Paul grunted.

  "I heard he's one of those techno-cultist. We won't let him go, if that's true."

  "Sure, but he doesn't know we know yet. I feel a bit bad, setting this up like it's real, but if I don't, then he might work out that things aren't going to go his way. I sort of have to do it." There was a dark undertone to her words that made her seem a little miserable. It was all fake, but it worked well enough that Paul patted her shoulder.

  "Don't worry about it. Maybe we're wrong and it's different than we think? Besides, who better to gain from this? At least with you it isn't someone that hates him. That would be the case of the village folk move in and loot his things after the trial. That happens, especially with those that don't have a lot of family around to protect them."

  "Yeah." She rubbed at the light colored wood, which didn't darken a lot even with the linseed on it. It didn't smell that great, but it wasn't awful either, just not a pretty scent. Paul patted her again, so she kept working. There was going to be plenty of time for her to sit around moping, she guessed. Later, in Morseburg.

  She still had the work on the new footlockers done before seven, so went to see if Will was actually awake. He was, and also being entertained by Bard Benjamin. He was playing softly, using decently complex fingerings. He let the string twang a tiny bit whenever he was supposed to push his left pinky down all the way, but that was just his style.

  His lazy, lazy style.

  The bearded man in the bed smiled at her, his face looking more pleasant than she'd seen it before.

  "This Bard mentioned that you've agreed to set that travel gear up for me? I thank you. I'll give you anything that doesn't fit in the wagon outright. I won't need it. I'm done with this place, as soon as I can clear my name and travel. The kind Doctor mentioned that I should be able to, tomorrow. The trial won't be for a day or two though?"