outer_divide | 001 [video]

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001 [video]

[Armand found his clothes and the communicator and his way as far as the base of the ramp exiting the ship. The utter unfamiliarity of the landscape hit him hard, and he didn't make it much further yet. So he fiddles with the device until his fingers find the combination he wants, though he has no idea why he knows it.

The tip of his nose is already red from the cold. He speaks with a noticeable French accent, and his voice is pleasant and cheerful, at least for the moment.]

I'm game if someone wants to tell me the trick. This is hardly England, nor France either. And it wasn't this cold last I knew.

[A pause, as he looks around yet again. He's not wearing a jacket over his shirt and waistcoat. Apparently he didn't have one with him when he was spirited from there to here.]

I'd go back inside, but it doesn't seem hospitable in there. I can see a city, but it looks a fair way off to walk. Is that where I should go?

Has anyone seen or heard of Sir Percy Blakeney or Marguerite St.--I mean Lady Blakeney? If you have, could you tell them I've been found though I don't know how I was lost this time? It's not my fault, anyway. I'm Armand. St. Just, that is. Margot's my sister.

The short of it is that I'm cold, and if I should just go back inside for a bit, I will, but I'm hoping to hear of a better alternative.

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Maybe someone else knows. [He is infernally curious at the best of times.]

I trust you, then. And go as quickly as you like. [He just isn't sure how to go with a flying person/machine.]

It's quite possible. I imagine Dr Banner might have at least a better idea than I do.

I...haven't been in the pod rooms for a while. [He sounds a bit guilty about that.]

[He nods, and then folds back down to his alt mode, popping open his cockpit.] I will be careful. I've flown others of your kind here.

[Armand ventures close enough to see how the cockpit opens up, and carefully climbs in.]

Talking isn't too distracting is it? I've heard so many names tonight I don't know if can keep track of them all.

Not at all. And please, it is a lot to take in at once, especially just waking up. I'd be glad to help.

[He lowers the canopy slowly: it's at least warm in there from his idling systems.]

The flight won't be long, if you're ready?

[Armand looks for something to grip, and ends up just reaching between his legs to hold onto the front edge of the seat.]

I'm ready now, Monsieur Wing.

Bon voyage!

[Wing makes a quiet sound of assent and then revs his engines, lifting as gently as possible off the ground.]

I'd love to hear about your world. It's all so new to me, your Earths.

[Armand is trying to look out at the landscape at the same time. He's probably a little bit too excited about the whole thing.]

I grew up in Paris, a beautiful city. Very old, and with probably one of the largest populations in the world. My sister was an actress at the Comedie Francaise. Have you heard about theatre?

[Wing doesn't mind. He remembers how excited Tolansky was to fly. He gives a slight bank, just for a little fun.]

It sounds lovely. I remember old cities. There's something about them, that whole weight of great people who have lived before you.

[At least to him.]

Theater, oh yes. [He gives that sigh of happy memories.] And you? What did you do?

[A gasp, but a happy one.]

This city looks old, but a different kind of old.

I mostly tried to stay out of trouble. I was going to go to university, but my sister got married, and I've been rather busy since then.

It is old, I think. It's survived the war they had here. We have a hospital here. And many of us stay in the Flop. It...it doesn't sound like much, but there's company, at least.

[He does a lazy spiral over the city.]

I hope it was a good kind of busy?

[Armand is still hanging on tight, but his mouth falls open at the sight. He never dreamed of seeing anything like this.]

There was a war here? [It does look like the Old City is in pretty bad shape, but he never thought of that. Just age.]

I think it was. My brother-in-law kept me busy.

There was. They live in the domes now. Apparently we were to be weapons in their war. But they forgot about us.

[He begins moving in to land, near the Flop.]

I hope you can continue your work here. [He has no idea what work it was, but if it made him happy...]

[Continuing his work isn't likely, but he'll find something.]

People live in there? Strange.

You're a person of sorts, aren't you? How could you be a weapon?

[Wing has no idea what Armand did. He's just trying to be conversational.]

It isn't much, but it's safe, at least.

My kind has fought a war for millions of years. But I don't want to be a weapon, in my war, nor this one.

[Helping the Scarlet Pimpernel rescue French aristos from the guillotine, and oh, getting caught so someone can blackmail his sister into betraying her husband. Probably not so much call for that here.]

I wasn't criticizing your city. I meant that dome. It looks like a mountain, not a place to live.

I wouldn't want to be a weapon either.

[Wing would hope not!!!]

Ah. The dome is where they live--the Authorities. The ones who fought in their war. And it seems they can't survive for long outside of it.

[He releases the canopy latch, settling in to land.] They still view us as dangerous. It's another reason we try to stay together.

The Authorities. [Armand repeated it a few more times in his mind as well. That sounded ominous, so the news that they can't survive outside very long was a little bit cheering.

As soon as they were down, Armand scrambled out. He felt very strange being inside the one he was talking to, even if they'd taken the shape of a flying machine.]

We, as in the robot people like you, or we, as in the people who came from the . . . ship?

It would be less distressing if they did not attempt to kill us.

[Wing doesn't care for the name and all it implies, either, but it's accurate. All of it, even to their high-handed authoritarianism.]

[He waits till the human exited, before standing up into his robot mode. ]

Those of us who came from the ship. My kind is the largest target, but they hate all of us.

How many are there of your kind, specifically? [Because once you got over the scariness of it, tall metal people who could fly were interesting. He has so many questions.]

[Oh. This question.]

J-just me, now. There was another, a friend of mine, but he's....he's gone.

[A small frown. Sympathy.]

I am so sorry to hear that. Are you lonelier for it?

Yes. Very much.

[A sigh.] I thought we were happy--he was happy. I was wrong. Somehow.

[He forces a smile.] But I have other friends here. [Not the same, but he's trying to convince himself.]

[That sounded like he simply left. And that confused Armand, but he knew better than to poke further at an emotional wound.]

I'm sorry to have brought it up. I was only curious.

I'm sure since you're so generous that you have many other friends.

Oh, please don't apologize. And he may wake up again, some day.

[He doesn't sound like he believes that, though.]

I have a few. There are many kind people among us.

I hope, for your sake, he does.

[He wants to pat him on the arm, but isn't sure how that goes for metal people.]

I am glad to hear people here are kind. You say many? Are there any bad apples in the lot?

001 [video]

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