Chapter Four, Part Three: Reed Boats for Wet EgyptiansMature

“Don’t bother,” says Victorian Coat even as he smushes his mouth harder against Jack’s then pulls away, “…the piano player sent me, the manipulative sod. I think I hate him, except that he’s pregnant, and I’m fairly certain he didn’t hate me.” He turns to the man at the piano- the oddball is still wearing his long creamy coat colored of camel… at least he was when he… “Two, no… three miracles in one night. I shall have to think further on’t. Good day, Wrong weather, Captain! Don’t bother following me- my memory doesn’t!” 

Just like that, the wet and angry dog becomes a boy again and fades away out of doors into the night, leaving Jack dizzy on a bar stool, wondering why and what, and how the hell. 

Then , his half-diverted bead on the piano player, Jack sticks a hand in his mouth to soothe the stung muscle as he scrambles from his seat toward the big black and white piano in the back. The sound of a supply door swinging clambers like reason up the backs of the legs of his ears, and he sighs as he reaches for the sheet of music sitting demure on the stand above the keys. 

But as he holds it up to the dim round lights in the ceiling, it’s only then he realizes. 

There was no music. But the bench is warm to the touch. –He- was here, playing… from memory. 

Jack looks down at the sheet of paper he’s retrieved. The edges feel smooth; there’s weight to the paper, too, like Old Earth vellum. 

It’s an ad for a job offer…


Rare Antiquities Museum

Applicants needed for Security Detail

The Indsø Tys in Fortescue Sector


The End

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