Sime~Gen Roleplaying on IRC: Snake River Dam Scenario
Episode #17: Selyn Belt (7/17/00)
Beni clings to the back of his assigned object of torture...er, transportation, hoping that they will arrive soon, and that the periodic booms he hears really are from the construction site, and not another thunderstorm.
Arat does what he has been doing for the past two days: huddling on his horse and refusing to speak a word to anybody.
Beni is now actually looking forward to their arrival, as he is under the misapprehension that it will be possible to stay clean and dry there.
Mr. Birch notes with relief familiar landmarks; they are almost back to the Construction site!
Arat is covered head to toe in mud (like everybody else in their party), still somewhat wet from the last downpour, filled to his eyebrows with antiallergens to combat some particularly pernicious wildflowers, and actually past his due date for transfer.
Mr. Birch forgets he is wet, tired and hungry in his eagerness to get back to business.
Arat is not enjoying zlinning Beni's sore bum either, particularly as he is at his most sensitive and the part in question is too sore to be completely shielded.
Mr. Birch twitches in his saddle in his impatience.
Arat's career is not flashing before his eyes, however; he ran out of reels about 3 days ago.
Mr. Birch has not been impressed by the fortitude of his Tecton associates.
Mr. Birch thought Simes were supposed to be tougher than Gens, and as for the Donors, they are utter wimps.
Arat's only bright thought is that at least there is no dust, and therefore no struggling breathe... aside from his perpetually running nose, that is.
Beni has been doing quite a bit of whimpering, despite efforts to keep it to himself.
Mr. Birch thinks that this Arat fellow has made a lot of big promises; it remains to be seen if he will follow through.
Beni finds that a certain amount of vocalization helps him to keep the worst of his discomfort out of his nager.
Beni at least has been telling himself this, quite frequently.
Mr. Birch would be more than happy to dump the whole selyn crisis mess in the Controller's lap; he never should have had to bother about it in the first place.
Arat is most likely at this point to follow through with: 1) a quick but deep transfer with Nick, 2) a hot bath, and 3) 48 hours of sleep in a clean bed, not necessarily in that order.
Emmet rides his mount stoically.
Sayward is beginning to see progress in the construction at last. She never expected to have to deal with half the mess she has had to. At least the blasting has started and things are moving forward. She waits to be joined by Cris as she checks her schedules one final time.
Beni spots a break in the endless forest ahead, and tries not to hope too hard.
Beni nudges his horse closer to Arat.
Dezrin, as the individual of Arat's bodyguard assigned to attend him personally, rides nearby although not within Arat's considerable personal space. He learned about Arat's personal space shortly after their association began. It makes certain things difficult (like security) but would appear to be a necessary evil.
Beni: Arat, is that....
Arat stares morosely at his horse's ears.
Beni reaches out to touch Arat's arm, hoping to break through his preoccupation.
Beni: Arat, is that the settlement ahead?
Beni: ~~ pathetic hope in spite of himself ~~
Arat: It would appear to be.
Cris spots Sayward and dashes up the path towards her.
Arat can't zlin the one nager he is most interested in zlinning at this time, however.
Cris slides to a stop, waving a letter.
Arat had actually already zlinned ahead, and is only making a show of doing so now to relieve certain... pressures.... brought about by Beni's high field touch.
Cris: News from across the lake!
Sayward should be making her rounds but not without Cris to translate. She learned the hard way that near disaster is only a word away.
Nick had bribed a gang of children to keep watch for the delayed arrivals.
Sayward: Really? What now?
Cris: They've finished that job in Salmonton.
Sayward is grinning widely.
Cris: Team will be back on tomorrow's boat.
Nick happens to be taking a break to eat, however, and so Arat's party is actually out of the trees before he is able to throw on his slicker and boots and run--all right, slog--to meet it.
Sayward: Glad to hear it. We really will need them here shortly.
Nick's outer wear is spattered with the ubiquitous mud, but he is highfield, and that's what really counts, isn't it?
Cris smiles in unison with Sayward.
Dezrin notices a mud covered Gen galumphing toward his client.
Cris: I'm glad they're getting back here in one piece.
Sayward: Yeah. I got more than a little nervous when half the town turned out on the second day.
Dezrin and the other security types look alert.
Nick has not, of course, noticed anything but Arat.
Nick: Arat! You're here at last!
Cris's attention is caught by the zlin of Nick's immense nager moving across the fields.
Nick: ~~ greeting/eagerness/pleasure ~~
Arat halts his horse.
Cris zlins an even more powerful selyn source over the rise, rather like the sun coming up from the horizon at daybreak.
Nick: What kept you? We've been expecting you for the past three days!
Cris: [distracted] Oh, my!
Sayward has see Cris get that look before.
Sayward: What?!
Arat: There were some technical difficulties.
Cris: I think Controller Arat has arrived.
Arat gives it the most charitable description he can come up with.
Sayward: Really?
Arat dismounts with considerably less spring and grace and more mud-slicked muscle-stiffened awkwardness than the average Sime would probably want to be seen dismounting a horse with.
Cris: There, up the hill!
Mr. Birch dismounts from his horse.
Nick reaches out to steady Arat.
Nick: Well, you got here, and in time.
Sayward rather happy about that. She has been dealing with the selyn shortage and she has absolutely no idea about what it all is really about.
Nick looks beyond Arat to Beni.
Arat's free hand grasps Nick's arm. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, it is not possible to muddy Nick's arm any further.
Sayward looks at Cris with an evil grin.
Sayward: Wanna go see him?
Mr. Birch nods a distant greeting to Nick. He wonders why the Gen claimed there was a crisis when the Controller says there isn't.
Nick: Beni, Snake's waiting for you over at the infirmary. Better hurry; she's not in a great mood just now.
Cris: Oh, yes, we better go right away.
Sayward's curiosity is eating her alive. What exactly does a Controller look like as opposed to any other Sime?
Cris: He's a real VIP.
Cris: Come on.
Sayward: Fine by me. Just let me get my rain gear.
Beni groans, and falls from his horse in a classic illustration of the difference between even the worst Sime rider and his Gen counterpart.
Arat gropes in his pockets, hoping to find the last of the clean handkerchiefs.
Mr. Birch looks around the construction site in disgust, noting the ankle-deep mud.
Arat scarcely notices Beni's flop into the mud, having heard, watched and zlinned the same thing several times already.
Mr. Birch was expecting this, of course, after the thunderstorms that washed out the trail through the mountains.
Nick notes Arat's groping, wipes his hands on a scarf that is a bit cleaner than the slicker, and reaches inside the slicker for a clean handkerchief.
Mr. Birch hopes Sayward hasn't let the project fall behind schedule.
Nick: Is this what you're looking for?
Arat: Thank you.
Arat accepts the handkerchief and blows his nose for the 3000th time since arriving at the train station. He is not a happy camper. Literally.
Emmet slowly dismounts, holding his nager stiff so no pain disturbs the ambient.
Nick has, of course, been carrying extras around for quite a while, it being more difficult to persuade Snake to actually use them, even when necessary.
Arat: Nick, this is Sosu Emmet, assigned to Jeniard.
Arat wonders why Jeniard is not here to meet him.
Sayward follows a very excited Cris out of the tent and into the mud. It's slow slogging but she can see the party coming into view now. She hurries to keep up.
Beni picks himself out of the mud and tries to wipe the worst of it off himself.
Emmet bows to Nick.
Nick: Pleased to meet you, Emmet.
Emmet: It is an honor, Sosu Nick.
Sayward finally catches up to Cris just as she stops behind Nick.
Arat: What is the state of our lodgings? [to Nick]
Arat is thinking about that transfer, bath and bed now.
Nick is more interested in Arat's need than his traveling companions, just now.
Emmet looks around at the stinking mud pile and the mosquitoes. Yes, it's the way he remembers it.
Cris nods to Sayward, motioning her to her side.
Dezrin nods to his partners to go scout the area.
Dezrin then turns back to keep an eye on Arat.
Cris can zlin that the Controller would probably not have the patience for diplomatic introductions right now.
Sayward: [whispering to Cris] Is that the Controller?
Nick: They turned out to be somewhat smaller than represented.
Cris: Yes, that's Controller Arat.
Nick: And a bit more... rustic.
Cris: Better stand back from him right now; he's not in a good mood.
Nick: ~~ apology ~~
Dezrin and his buddies are all masters of unobtrusiveness, intimidation, hand to hand combat, marksmanship, and all the other things that people who have lots of money ask for in a personal body guard.
Sayward: Oh.
Arat: Smaller?
Arat does not think that is a problem.
Arat looks at Sayward and Cris.
Mr. Birch spots Sayward and strides towards her.
Sayward can't figure out what all the hubbub is about. He looks like any other Sime to her.
Nick: There's only one leak in the roof, though, and I've put you in the other side of the barracks.
Arat: Leak in the roof?
Arat can't believe what he thought he heard.
Nick: Yes, but that's only a problem when it rains.
Mr. Birch: Sayward! Good to see you!
Arat: It's been raining for five... [breaks off as Mr. Birch greets Sayward]
Nick: And even then, if you empty the bucket every once in a while, the floor stays dry.
Emmet looks around and wonders why his channel isn't here to meet him. He is overdue.
Sayward: Good to see you too. You folks look like somethin' nasty got hold of you.
Emmet hopes nothing has happened.
Arat is kind of wondering the same thing. He had expected Jeniard to be here waiting on him hand and foot.
Nick: I know it's not what you're used to, but there is a shower, and even hot water, if you can find dry wood for the heater.
Sayward walks over to Mr. Birch, remembering to stay away from the Controller.
Arat blinks at Nick in dismay.
Emmet worries that he will be blamed if there is a problem, although there is nothing that he could have done about the thunderstorm or the trail or the grizzly bear.
Nick: Don't worry, I made sure there was a supply brought in. It won't take more than an hour to heat you enough water for a shower.
Mr. Birch: Well, Sayward, looks like we got a little weather here.
Nick: ~~ reassuring ~~
Arat stares at Nick for a moment longer, and then looks down suddenly and flicks a mosquito away from his left inner lateral sheath.
Arat has found that mosquito repellent makes him overwhelmingly dizzy, while the actual bites swell up ferociously.
Arat: Where is Jeniard?
Sayward: We got a lot of weather here. We've spent almost as much time redigging the footing as digging them.
Nick looks sober.
Emmet: Yes, where is he?
Sayward: So far the schedule hasn't suffered much but any more weather and we will start to feel it.
Emmet: I've got to find him right away!
Nick: They were blasting this morning, and some idiots didn't pay attention to the order to stay clear. Or didn't understand it; they're in no condition to explain.
Nick: He's looking after the survivors. I expect he'll be very glad to see you.
Arat looks rather relieved at the explanation.
Sayward: Why don't you join me in my tent, Marty? I've got some good stiff stuff to drink and you can take a load off.
Sayward thinks Birch could probably use a belt right about now.
Emmet's distress would be apparent to Farris perceptions.
Emmet: [stiffly] Would you direct me to him, please?
Mr. Birch: That sounds good, Sayward!
Arat: Yes, arrange for a guide for Emmet, please.
Arat certainly doesn't expect Nick to show Emmet there himself, not now.
Mr. Birch: I'd like a report on your progress!
Nick points down something that would be a dirt road, if it didn't consist entirely of soupy mud in foot-deep ruts.
Cris: Oh, Sosu Emmet, I'd be happy to show you the way.
Sayward: Got it all waiting for you.
Cris: Follow me, please.
Sayward turns to see Cris taking one of the new arrivals off somewhere.
Cris: My name is Cris Boysee, Diplomatic Corps attache.
Sayward: Come on Marty. Let's get to it.
Cris guides Emmet down the dirt road to the field hospital.
Emmet follows as quickly as he can on his stiffening legs.
Mr. Birch surveys the travellers.
Mr. Birch: Sosu Nick, Controller Arat, I'll touch base with you all later.
Mr. Birch follows Sayward.
Arat sees that nobody has any immediate use for him, and turns to Nick.
Arat: I trust it is clean?
Arat means, their lodgings.
Arat is sure that Jeniard will have had time to see to that, at least.
Nick, as it turns out, has quite a bit of use for Arat, just now.
Nick: It was yesterday. And with the excitement, I don't think there will be too much mud tracked back in.
Nick: At least the walls are stone, which muffles the ambient. Snake hasn't complained, anyway.
Arat also happens to know that Snake has been known to place her laterals in a wound infected by spilled fish guts too, so that doesn't mean a whole lot.
Nick is aware that Snake has 1) lower standards than Arat when it comes to accommodations and 2) been a prisoner for quite some time, making freedom of any sort alluring.
Nick does, however, genuinely want Arat to be as comfortable as possible.
Arat: Very well.
Arat is prepared to believe the awful sensation of despair he's feeling right now is a figment of his extreme state of need, at least until he has seen the place himself.
Nick himself has found the Dam site more comfortable than Capitol, at least psychologically.
Arat punctuates his sentence with the 3001st nose-blowing (only the 2nd one for that hanky, though).
Nick: At least the air is cleaner, inside.
Nick waits until the formidable proboscis has been temporarily cleared, then starts leading the way.
Arat: Wait.
Arat turns to where his baggage has been deposited into the mud by the owners of the now absent equines.
Arat has developed a keen instinct for his Farris medications not being left anywhere, in the last few days.
Arat would also like a clean change of uniform, not that such a thing is likely to be available in his packs, not after the time when the river... but I digress.
Arat would rather not carry his luggage himself, but he doesn't want to fight about it with Nick either. He just wants his transfer, a cold shower, and a horizontal surface that is not under the leak in the roof.
Arat picks up the muddy baggage and the large and carefully bundled container of extra Farris medicines, and follows Nick through the wallow.
Nick traverses the trampled areas outside the main compound, used for staging supplies to the construction area itself, and diverts their path towards a barbed wire fence that bocks off a group of exceedingly ugly, hastily built structures.
Nick: We'll just take the shortcut through here; you can see the infirmary later.
Arat: Through there?
Arat once again can't believe his ears.
Arat is one of those people who feels that if an area requires barbed wire, it is probably not the sort of area he should be in.
Nick: Yes. Our lodgings are about a quarter mile beyond.
Arat swallows his (rather severe) misgivings and augments slightly more to catch up with his receding selyn source.
Arat has possibly never been more miserable in his life, except maybe in his First Year.
Arat frees up a tentacle to rub a particularly spectacular specimen of a mosquito bite on his right forearm.
Nick: The woman who owns it was a bit upset when they built the housing village so close to her, but it does make it more convenient for us.
Arat is, for some reason, not finding this very convenient.
Arat doesn't like the zlin of most of the people they have been passing, and the smell... well....
Nick reaches a heavy gate and unlocks it, having to shove with both hands to make it swing open against the mud.
Nick thinks that the place is relatively civilized, compared with how it was when he arrived.
Arat notices that Nick becomes covered liberally with new mud in the process.
Nick doesn't let the appearance of civilization prevent him from relocking the gate, as soon as they are through it.
Arat thinks it is a sign of just how far his own life has degraded, that he is trying to calculate what sort of resistance to selyn flow the mud will have when they take their transfer.
Nick puts the key away, shakes a bit of mud off of himself, and reaches for one of Arat's bags.
Nick: Here, I can take one of those, now.
Arat hands it to him, then shifts the others about to achieve balance again.
Arat looks thoroughly bedraggled and miserable.
Arat is now thinking in terms of transfer, then a cold shower and falling asleep while still vertical in the shower.
Nick looks just as bedraggled, but is disgustingly cheerful, anyway.
Nick has rather enjoyed this assignment so far, and is prepared to enjoy it even more, now that his second channel is also around.
Nick waves to a few acquaintances among the workers they are passing.
Arat has been feeling more and more like he is in hell, or maybe prison. He doesn't remember prison very well, except that it was cold, damp, none too clean, and reminded him of hell.
Nick does not stop to chat, however.
Arat squelches along in Nick's wake.
Arat might have refused to have anything to do with any of this if he had been feeling higher energy.
Nick eventually reaches the gate on the other side, which is much smaller, but also secured by a formidable padlock.
Nick hands Arat back his bag, in lieu of dropping it in the mud.
Nick: Here, hold onto this for a moment while I find the key.
Arat takes it back with a sound suspiciously like a sigh.
Nick finds the key, carefully wipes the mud off of it with his scarf, and carefully inserts it into the lock.
Nick: This one can be a bit temperamental....
Arat flicks at several different mosquitoes that seem to descend upon him from all directions.
Arat runs out of tentacles and feels several pinpricks in strategically difficult areas.
Nick reaches out to wipe a mosquito away from a particularly strategic spot.
Arat's knees go weak as Nick inadvertently, or maybe perfectly intentionally, massages one of his ronaplin glands.
Nick then takes the bag back, and points down a slightly less muddy path to a squat building huddling under the trees.
Nick: There it is. Home sweet home.
Arat not-quite-staggers after Nick, then comes to a sudden halt as he sees the building.
Arat: That!
Arat's need battles with a sudden, and sadly not so unusual anymore, urge to turn and leave very quickly.
Nick: Yes. You won't find better housing this side of Palisades.
Arat: It's... completely unacceptable.
Mr. Birch slogs through the mud with Sayward following after him.
Nick urges Arat forward again, eager to get him inside and get a transfer into him.
Nick: It's the best available.
Nick: And the view from the back windows is spectacular.
Arat is more or less dragged by Nick toward the building. It is difficult for a Sime in his condition to resist a determined Gen.
Mr. Birch has assimilated Sayward's report on the Construction progress, and it has re-invigorated him.
Nick had noticed that, once the rain washed them clean.
Sayward slogs on after Birch. She has been slogging through this same mud in varying depths for days now, or is it weeks? Seems more like years.
Nick: And best of all, it's private.
Mr. Birch's burst of new energy has also been inflamed by the rather high proof liquor his Construction Manager keeps in her private stock.
Arat can't see how private it could be, with anywhere from 2,000 to 4,000 unemployed rabble running through the woods.
Mr. Birch's forebrain is whirling with ideas and calculations.
Mr. Birch knows, however, that everything hinges on the selyn supply and he wants some answers, now.
Sayward is wondering if this a good time. She remembers very clearly Cris' warning to stay away from the Controller.
Mr. Birch reaches the heavy gate.
Nick is not kidding: compared to a tent, it's quite private and luxurious.
Mr. Birch: Hey, you got the key for this thing, Sayward?
Arat wonders if it would be possible to arrange for transfer in the cold shower.
Sayward isn't sure why she should stay away from the Controller but has learned over the weeks that they have been working together to take Cris' warning seriously and ask for explanations later.
Sayward: Sure.
Nick picks up the pace, as some of the accumulated mud falls off on the less-trampled pathway.
Sayward reaches into her pocket and pulls out a leather thong with several keys on it.
Sayward: This one I think.
Sayward is rather surprised to have picked the right one first try. She leans hard on the gate and opens it for Birch.
Mr. Birch strides through the gate and heads for building set aside as Tecton quarters.
Sayward follows after relocking the gate.
Mr. Birch splashes through puddles and mud holes as he proceeds, casually slapping at mosquitos which are sampling his high-proof blood.
Nick leads the way up a short flight of steps carved (somewhat) from logs to a porch, and pauses to make use of the boot-cleaner.
Sayward watches Birch swatting the bugs that seem to be trying to eat everybody alive. The funny thing is that they don't seem to have much interest in her.
Arat stands there looking rather dazed.
Nick finishes cleaning his boots, and steps back.
Nick: Come on, Arat. Clean your boots, and we'll go inside.
Nick: ~~ promise ~~
Arat obeys.
Mr. Birch approaches the squat building.
Nick opens the door to their haven, such as it is.
Mr. Birch catches sight of the Controller and his Donor mounting the stairs.
Sayward see some of the squatters have taken jobs around the Tecton compound. She waves to a few that she has met before.
Nick finds it quite acceptable, having lived in far worse.
Mr. Birch: Oh, Controller Arat!
Mr. Birch: And Sosu Nick!
Nick turns in disbelief that anyone would interrupt an impending transfer.
Sayward nods to Nick and watches the Controller.
Mr. Birch: Might I have a word with you, before you turn in?
Arat sets down his bags on the porch, and turns to face Mr. Birch.
Arat assumes it must be of vital importance, or they wouldn't be interrupted.
Nick: Mr. Birch, Arat has had a rather trying journey, and he really should....
Arat: Certainly.
Nick sees that Arat is determined to observe the diplomatic proprieties, and sighs at the delay.
Mr. Birch: Well, this is the first time I've been able to speak to both of you together.
Nick moves closer to Arat, wrapping him in nager.
Mr. Birch: And what I want to know is, is the so-called selyn crisis solved now?
Arat blinks in surprise. He has only been off of his mule for 15 minutes, or thereabouts, and they are already expecting miracles.
Arat is used to being asked for miracles, of course, but not usually any that defy the laws of physics.
Arat: [not counting Dr. Roosle's peculiar requests, but again, I digress]
Arat: I have not yet had a chance to begin collecting the required data.
Arat: However, I can assure you that I will assess the situation as soon as is practical.
Mr. Birch notes Arat's look of surprise. He himself was surprised at the vastly different situation reports he received from Arat and from Nick, and had expected that by now they would have had time to compare information, just as he has with Sayward.
Mr. Birch: Because we have Simes who are not meeting their schedules because we can't allow them augmentation.
Nick was, alas, busy conveying information of a more personal, and much less welcome, sort.
Arat might ordinarily have pumped Nick for information during their brief quarter-mile walk, except that the weeks on the train and additional week of roughing it on horseback and open stars camping has really taken it out of him.
Sayward steps forward. And realizes something about Arat. He must be in need. He has that same half dazed look that Cris gets.
Arat: I understand your concerns.
Mr. Birch: And you said you brought enough selyn with you to cover the shortfall--if I understood that correctly.
Arat: For the short term, yes.
Nick places a possessive hand on Arat's mosquito-munched arm.
Mr. Birch: Sayward, explain what's happening with the workers.
Sayward is not an expert on Simes, but living in close quarters with Cris has taught her a couple things.
Sayward: It comes down to this. The Gens are doing most of the heavy work because the Simes just can't without augmenting. Many of the Simes have refused to do any of the heavy work for fear of coming up short.
Sayward: Without the selyn to support the augmentation we will be seriously behind shortly.
Sayward nods. That is it in a nutshell.
Arat nods.
Arat: I understand your concerns, [says again]
Arat: I can move up my schedule to distribute the selyn I brought.
Arat means, he can round up the 3rds and 2nds and offload as much as possible to them for redistribution to renSimes.
Nick: In the mean time, if you would give Arat a day or two to examine the situation, he could give you a more considered answer at that time.
Nick is well aware that Arat collapses for a day or more after transfer, and given his current stress level, expects that it will be more.
Mr. Birch: I would like to get these people working at the project pace right away--tomorrow, if possible.
Arat: I will require precise numbers as to how many personnel you have on line, as well as the number of extra renSimes in the area that we are responsible for,
Arat: It will take some time to gather that information.
Mr. Birch: Just to be able to assure these Simes that the selyn will in fact be available will be enough to move some to action.
Arat can't trust any of the numbers he has heard from anybody, as none of them even come close to matching.
Mr. Birch: Well, as to that, I myself am confused, as the figures you quoted me were very different than those estimated by your associate Nick here.
Mr. Birch: For my part, my concern is with the workers on my payroll, not these other rabble.
Arat unconsciously rubs his forearms.
Arat: Of course.
Mr. Birch: So now that there is a Controller in charge here, I will leave the selyn management to you, as you requested.
Mr. Birch: But I require that augmentation for my staff.
Arat: I will do everything in my power to bring about a swift resolution to both the documentation problem and any discovered shortage in selyn.
Sayward think's that if what Cris has been trying not to tell her is true they may be in a lot more trouble than they are now.
Mr. Birch: So can I tell my workers to start working, or do they have to wait some more?
Arat: I apologize, but there will be a brief delay while I get my affairs in order. I have only just arrived. I expect to have estimates for you within three days, and reliable counts as well as a redrawn selyn schedule within the week.
Sayward looks at the Controller and thinks he looks awfully frail. But then so do all the other Simes except for Starlin and Cris.
Mr. Birch: Three days.
Mr. Birch: ~~high proof impatience~~
Mr. Birch: Very well.
Mr. Birch: Thank you, Controller Arat.
Mr. Birch, even drunk, remembers his manners.
Arat zlins Mr. Birch and wonders if he works with that blood alcohol level all the time, or if this is a special occasion.
Arat automatically zlins his liver too, to find out.
Mr. Birch's liver does not show excessive wear.
Arat: You are welcome. [after a brief pause]
Arat: And now, if you will excuse me, I must confer with Nick.
Sayward grabs her friend as he wobbles a bit.
Sayward: One more thing.
Arat looks at Sayward.
Sayward: Controller, if we are short with the estimates that you make, how long will it take to get more selyn up here?
Arat: I had prescheduled arrivals of new shipments on a weekly basis from now on. Any delays in an increase would be limited mainly by the communications time and then the lag until the next arrival. That could be as little as four weeks, to as long as eight weeks.
Arat: Of course, with appropriate scheduling the impact of the delay can be considerably lessened.
Mr. Birch: When you have re-evaluated the situation, if you find you still require out-Territory donors, remember that Salmonton has donated a houseboat for your use.
Arat: Very well.
Arat is all for out-Territory donations, he just doesn't think the construction company should have been told they had to provide them.
Mr. Birch: Blast and damn! You wouldn't believe how many favors I had to call in to arrange that.
Sayward decides to keep her concerns to herself for the moment.
Arat: There is no reason those donations cannot go on as planned.
Nick: And now, if that is all, Arat really should....
Nick sees that nobody is paying any attention to him, and sighs.
Sayward thinks that weeks of delays will make a bad situation impossible. She looks at Mr. Birch thinking that if he were less pickled he would probably have caught that.
Mr. Birch: Yeah, but I have to admit it irks me to have been put to all that trouble if it wasn't necessary.
Mr. Birch: May be for the best though.
Nick: No donation is ever "unnecessary", Mr. Birch.
Mr. Birch: Well, we don't have any donations yet, Sosu Nick.
Mr. Birch: Just the City of Salmonton's agreement not to shoot Channels in interterritorial waters.
Sayward smiles at the memory of that negotiation. It is a rather sour smile.
Arat: A noble accomplishment, and I will endeavour to bring it to fruition.
Arat is sure that Snake, if nobody else, would be willing to risk being shot to experience the joys of indoctrinating virgin Gens into the halls of donordom.
Mr. Birch: Anyway....
Sayward: Why don't we let the Controller get settled in. We can hash this mess out later.
Mr. Birch's alcohol-fueled enthusiasm is beginning to burn down.
Mr. Birch: Very well.
Mr. Birch turns away.
Nick thinks that's the most sensible suggestion of the whole conversation.
Arat blinks as Mr. Birch turns away as suddenly as he arrived.
Mr. Birch: [mutters under his breath] Three days!
Sayward thinks no, four weeks.
Sayward: [calls over her shoulder] See you later, Nick.
Mr. Birch stumbles a bit heading down the steps.
Nick is more used to Birch, and simply nods to Sayward.
Arat notes the other person, who he has never been introduced to, fails to acknowledge him in leaving also.
Nick then returns to the important business of getting Arat inside, clean, and most important, full of selyn.
Arat frowns to himself, zlinning after them, then turns to the baggage on the porch.
Sayward helps a now teetering Martin Birch out of the Tecton compound.
Mr. Birch has to admit that Sayward can hold her liquor better than he can. It's a trait he admires in his Construction Managers.
Nick unlocks the door and reaches for a bag.
Nick: Come on, Arat. It's time for transfer, and rest.
Nick changes from ~~ support ~~ to ~~ temptation ~~
Dezrin and his buddies, who had gone in and thoroughly checked the place out, open the door and clear the way.