Dream of Venice

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We made our road trip via the Autostrade, stopping overnight in Roma, then continuing with brief stops for meals, and oil and water for Valentine's ALFA, through the Impero-allied Republic of San Marino, and to the port of Rimini on the Adriatic coast, where we were met by the Zephyr.

I would have liked to stay longer in Roma. There was much to see between the ancient, Renaissance, and modern structures, and the churches of the Holy See. Yet our mission came first, and we had already been tempted from our path once by Hedone's desire for site-seeing.

Every day the world grew larger. Once Queensfort. Then the Atlantic, the neighborhoods of London, The Mediterranean, Eivissa, Sardìgna, Napoli, and Roma. Everywhere people with similar struggles. There were public schools for children of all ages-- it kept them out of competition for factory jobs and ensured the governments were involved in their upbringing. There were jobs for all adults but for those few with exemptions due to extremes of age or infirmity or need to care for the youngest children-- many positions were assigned rather than chosen, and of those many in so-called unskilled tasks which offered no betterment.  We had peace between many nations-- speaking out against current policy no brought the label of 'Enemy of the Peace', and there were yet nations unaffiliated with The Fashionista.

Fashion in clothing, in our speech, and media was not generated by the witty or original, but manufactured within the hive of the Creatrix. I could see the tog cogs of Roma-- once nearly capitol of the world, now one capitol of fashion --buzzing about on their motorized bicycles, baskets full of sewing kits and portfolio.

All Castes were subservient to the peace. It would have been easy to say the aristocrats were-- again or still --in the wrong, but it was becoming more evident to me now that the titled were also like players on a stage under others' direction. They complied with Code as well as I had as a dobby, only for them it came with even less voice in what they wore and who they loved.

The morning review in Roma suggested, in very carefully worded articles, that many minds speculated on what their bachelor Imperatore Humbert V may decide, now some unfortunate business in Belgium had brought an end to previous marriage plans.

"His mother, the Dowager Queen Elena is in Alex," Murphy had told me, reading over my shoulder.

"In Alexandria? In Egypt? Like a hostage?"

"What? Of course not! She retired there after the king died in the war. She is a frequent companion of the Malik's own consort, who is originally from Roma."

"But, it is possible the Malik has influence in the Impero?" I asked.

"And vice versa. That's part of how politics work."

It was still all rather complicated to me. I did not see how we might ever hope to reach the Fashionista herself.  I thought about it more often, especially when there was idle time in cab or ship. What would the future bring? What could I possibly do to help?

The Zephyr carried us from Rimini to Venizia-- Venèxia, in the local Vèneto. Aboard the large steam-powered yacht, Valentine introduced us to his crew by their various noms de guerre: Apollo, the ships physician; Hermes, the communications officer; and Hyacinth, their engineer.

It was difficult to concentrate on lessons, but I figured I was learning just by seeing new places and people. I made sketches in the book Alpha had left with me, when the movement of a vehicle was not too much. And Murphy regularly staged surprise attacks against me so that I had to draw weapons on him to defend myself.

We stopped short of real damage, of course. We never cut each other, and I never fully squeezed a trigger, but the exertion was real enough. It was a good thing, as I was beginning to feel like even I might have sought another, equally physical,  means to work-out the frustrations of waiting for the next task or rendezvous. 

In early morning, the Zephyr docked along the Lido, one of the sandbar islands sheltering the Laguna Veneta from the deeper water of the Adriatic. Here there was based a resort area with hotels, beaches for private or public bathing, and some more illicit establishments. Using the story that Valentine was a Cypriot civilian captain of a pleasure yacht for hire and Murphy was a wealthy Egyptian diplomat, we got our permissions to dock from the local authorities. There was a cursory examination of the Zephyr, but Hyacinth and Hermes had hidden the more military equipment in well concealed smuggling compartments.

We were soon checked into a popular hotel, and putting up a show of actually seeming tourists. I accompanied Murphy to a nearby Mercantile Office, where we arranged to send wirefaxes to contacts in Eivissa; Paphos, Cyprus; Alexandria; and Cairo. Murphy showed me how the handwritten notes were in a kind of vague code, written as if to friends, family members, or business associates to allow the recipients know we had arrived in Venèxia. Murphy prepared one more note, addressed to our local contact, Miranda, asking for a meeting at the hotel.

We gave the documents to the clerk, with the routing numbers written on the reverse, so that the content of the document was unseen when scanning. The numbers were clacked into the machine, and original documents returned. Murphy requested the documents be stamped, and the clerk stamped the reverse with red ink impression of the day's date.

We returned to the hotel, where Sina had used the time we were out to have a bath in privacy. The three of us descended to the common drawing room. Hedone was seated there amid potted plants in a navy bloomer suit scandalously similar to an old bathing costume, while Valentine read the latest review.

I felt as if there were eyes on me.


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Shout out to boyxboy1 for having featured The Iron Man as one of its Five Reads of the Week. And my welcome and thanks to any new readers.

This chapter is not the most action packed (the media is, complete free advertising for one of those Assassin games, which had pretty music), but I can just imagine the red line on the map. There's maybe a few hints or hooks set-up here for potential future subplots, though. And super-mysterious ending~

The Iron Man was as high as 174 in the Science-Fiction rankings during this week! 





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