Who: Mansi and Lester Where: Mansi's bunk When: Right after her fight with Eli What: There was tea. And there was Lester kind of, sort of sticking up for Eli.
The echoes of the yelling had long since died down, but in its place was an unsettling silence. People kept to their rooms. They spoke in low voices. In the past, Lester had had many occasions to see the inside of a funeral pallor, and right now he felt a strong resemblance to the ship. While there was little he could do about the root cause of it all, there was one thing he could do. Deftly balancing the tea tray under one arm, Lester knocked softly, so as not to wake Mansi if she had gone to sleep early.
"Qù nǐ nǎinaide!" Mansi's voice was like shards of glass.
"I brought you tea."
The door opened. "Lester, I'm sorry." The knuckles gripping the door as it opened looked raw, and so did her face. Mansi was not a pretty sight.
"It's ok. You like green tea, right?" He held up the tray, with its pot and two cups.
"I ain't averse to it." She slid the door open a little wider to accomodate him. Absently she flattened her hair down. "I take it you heard the yellin'."
"Just volume, not the words." He set the tray down on the night table and poured a cup. He held it out to her.
Mansi took it. Her hand trembled a little, a residual symptom of the anger. "Xie xie."
"No thanks required." Lester waited for her to drink down her cup, and then refilled it.
Mansi gestured to the stool. "Meager furniture, but never did find need to have more."
"Don't apologize." Lester put the pot of tea aside and sat. "Space travel has always been a spartan lifestyle. To those who take it serious, at least."
Mansi nodded and looked down into her cup.
"How are you holding up?"
Mansi shoots him a look, "Take a wild guess."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." He lapsed into silence.
Mansi sighed, "No. I'm sorry. It's just..." She searched for the word, "Frustrating. It's frustrating to not know what's happening. It's frustrating to not know how we got here." She began to warm up, "And finally, it's frustrating to know that someone may have a gorram idea of what's happenin' and won't tell." She glared in the general direction of Eli's door.
"You think Eli knows something more than he's letting on?"
Mansi hesitated. "Yeah." Another pause. She thought about showing Lester the letter, and it wasn't like Eli had warned her against it. Finally she said, "He knows where to find Tanaka."
Lester leaned over and poured himself a cup of tea. His voice was carefully measured. "How?"
Again, the hesitation. Mansi looked Lester over carefully, before producing the letter. "Wouldn't say how he got it."
Lester read it over once, twice, and then again. He handed it back. "Maybe he's lying."
"Eli doesn't," she said simply.
"Are you sure about that?"
"Can't remember the last time he lied, an' I've known him for a long time now." A beat. "I'm sure."
"Fair enough." Lester sipped his tea. "Then let's think. Who could Eli have gotten this tip from?"
"All he said was 'church.'" Mansi rolled the cup in her hands.
"No. I mean, that's a hand-written note."
"I can see. And no, I don't know. I didn't know anybody knew Eli on Kamchatka." Mansi downed the cold drink in her cup.
"Because, best as I can tell, he didn't know anyone there," Lester continued. "Maybe a better question would be how he got this note when we came straight back and took off immediately."
Mansi bit her lip. "A passenger?" she asked doubtfully. Even as she said it, she felt it was the wrong answer.
"Maybe. It would have to be someone that knew Tanaka and wanted him dead."
"I have a feelin' that narrows it down none." "And someone that would know where he was."
Mansi was quiet, thinking. "Tanaka wouldn't give his location to just anyone, so it'd have to be someone he trusted."
Lester set his tea cup aside. "Maybe we're askin' the wrong question."
"Shenme?"
"Does it really matter who it came from, so long as the information's legit?"
"Don't the two points have direct connection?"
"Are you worried that the information is wrong or angry that Eli won't tell you where he got it?"
Mansi looked at him, startled, before finally admitting, "Both."
Lester poured himself another cup of tea.
Mansi held out her cup. "It's a valid question. Why won't he tell me?"
Lester refilled her cup. "Maybe it's not as important as you think it is. Part of leardership is not having to share all the information."
"I'm his first mate," she said simply.
"And?"
Mansi stared at him, "And this is my niece we're talking about." She deliberately ignored the real significance of his question. As far as she was concerned, her answer was enough.
Lester finished his tea and set down his cup. "I should probably get going. I'll come pick up the tray in the morning." He stood.
What is it with people and leaving in the middle of a conversation? She didn't have the will or the strength to argue with him anymore, however. "You can take it now." Her tone was short.
"You should finish the pot. It's good for you. Good night." He slipped through the door and shut it behind him.
Mansi stared at the door, speechless. Finally, muttering a few choice obscenities under her breath, she slid open the door and made her way back to the exercise room. She needed to hit something. Badly.
Who: Mansi and Lester
1 comment:
The echoes of the yelling had long since died down, but in its place was an unsettling silence. People kept to their rooms. They spoke in low voices. In the past, Lester had had many occasions to see the inside of a funeral pallor, and right now he felt a strong resemblance to the ship. While there was little he could do about the root cause of it all, there was one thing he could do.
Deftly balancing the tea tray under one arm, Lester knocked softly, so as not to wake Mansi if she had gone to sleep early.
"Qù nǐ nǎinaide!" Mansi's voice was like shards of glass.
"I brought you tea."
The door opened. "Lester, I'm sorry." The knuckles gripping the door as it opened looked raw, and so did her face. Mansi was not a pretty sight.
"It's ok. You like green tea, right?" He held up the tray, with its pot and two cups.
"I ain't averse to it." She slid the door open a little wider to accomodate him. Absently she flattened her hair down. "I take it you heard the yellin'."
"Just volume, not the words." He set the tray down on the night table and poured a cup. He held it out to her.
Mansi took it. Her hand trembled a little, a residual symptom of the anger. "Xie xie."
"No thanks required." Lester waited for her to drink down her cup, and then refilled it.
Mansi gestured to the stool. "Meager furniture, but never did find need to have more."
"Don't apologize." Lester put the pot of tea aside and sat. "Space travel has always been a spartan lifestyle. To those who take it serious, at least."
Mansi nodded and looked down into her cup.
"How are you holding up?"
Mansi shoots him a look, "Take a wild guess."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." He lapsed into silence.
Mansi sighed, "No. I'm sorry. It's just..." She searched for the word, "Frustrating. It's frustrating to not know what's happening. It's frustrating to not know how we got here." She began to warm up, "And finally, it's frustrating to know that someone may have a gorram idea of what's happenin' and won't tell." She glared in the general direction of Eli's door.
"You think Eli knows something more than he's letting on?"
Mansi hesitated. "Yeah." Another pause. She thought about showing Lester the letter, and it wasn't like Eli had warned her against it. Finally she said, "He knows where to find Tanaka."
Lester leaned over and poured himself a cup of tea. His voice was carefully measured. "How?"
Again, the hesitation. Mansi looked Lester over carefully, before producing the letter. "Wouldn't say how he got it."
Lester read it over once, twice, and then again. He handed it back. "Maybe he's lying."
"Eli doesn't," she said simply.
"Are you sure about that?"
"Can't remember the last time he lied, an' I've known him for a long time now." A beat. "I'm sure."
"Fair enough." Lester sipped his tea. "Then let's think. Who could Eli have gotten this tip from?"
"All he said was 'church.'" Mansi rolled the cup in her hands.
"No. I mean, that's a hand-written note."
"I can see. And no, I don't know. I didn't know anybody knew Eli on Kamchatka." Mansi downed the cold drink in her cup.
"Because, best as I can tell, he didn't know anyone there," Lester continued. "Maybe a better question would be how he got this note when we came straight back and took off immediately."
Mansi bit her lip. "A passenger?" she asked doubtfully. Even as she said it, she felt it was the wrong answer.
"Maybe. It would have to be someone that knew Tanaka and wanted him dead."
"I have a feelin' that narrows it down none."
"And someone that would know where he was."
Mansi was quiet, thinking. "Tanaka wouldn't give his location to just anyone, so it'd have to be someone he trusted."
Lester set his tea cup aside. "Maybe we're askin' the wrong question."
"Shenme?"
"Does it really matter who it came from, so long as the information's legit?"
"Don't the two points have direct connection?"
"Are you worried that the information is wrong or angry that Eli won't tell you where he got it?"
Mansi looked at him, startled, before finally admitting, "Both."
Lester poured himself another cup of tea.
Mansi held out her cup. "It's a valid question. Why won't he tell me?"
Lester refilled her cup. "Maybe it's not as important as you think it is. Part of leardership is not having to share all the information."
"I'm his first mate," she said simply.
"And?"
Mansi stared at him, "And this is my niece we're talking about." She deliberately ignored the real significance of his question. As far as she was concerned, her answer was enough.
Lester finished his tea and set down his cup. "I should probably get going. I'll come pick up the tray in the morning." He stood.
What is it with people and leaving in the middle of a conversation? She didn't have the will or the strength to argue with him anymore, however. "You can take it now." Her tone was short.
"You should finish the pot. It's good for you. Good night." He slipped through the door and shut it behind him.
Mansi stared at the door, speechless. Finally, muttering a few choice obscenities under her breath, she slid open the door and made her way back to the exercise room. She needed to hit something. Badly.
Post a Comment