The Journey of Rick Heiden - Chapters 19 and 20
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This novel contains 50 CHAPTERS, and every post will have 2 chapters each.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A minute later, we slowed as we drew near a giant wall of black emptiness on the water. It appeared as if we sat on the precipice of a black hole that had opened just for us. We had met the ship, but we couldn't see it. We motored to the far side of it where several crew members helped us board the vessel in silence with militaristic precision.
As we walked with a hand on the shoulder of the person before us, we could see nothing, except a faint outline of ourselves and one another against a stark depth of blackness like none I had ever experienced. After a few yards, the captain led us through a door to a cramped room, and once inside with the door closed, we stood in abject darkness. Dupre opened the door before him, which led to the inside of the ship. Light poured through the opening to a hallway. Crew personnel escorted us to a lounge where they offered us salty biscuits to settle our stomachs. The captain seemed fine, and of our group, only Cadmar had sea legs. I glanced at David. He ate the crackers too, showing pallid skin and half-lidded eyes.
"Why isn't Cadmar ill?" I asked.
"He's a limnologist and often on the water," he said, "but Magnar said he was on the rowing team in college."
"I see. Well, at least this ship's more stable," I said.
"Wait until we get moving before you say that."
A crewman gave us little bags, just in case, but Pearce needed it most. I felt terrible for him; he suffered more than any of us. Out of the dinghy, we began to get better. Had the nanos worked to maintain even our constitutional equilibrium? If so, I wanted to embrace them one by one to thank them. I could cope with many things, but bouts of nausea were not one of them.
Dupre returned to the lounge, where we sat in various positions allowing ourselves to return to normality. He and his crew dressed in all black. Captain Dupre, a man in his early thirties, looked handsome, with suave, 1930s hair and a clean-cut appearance. All the other crew members wore a tightly fitted, black wool skullcap with the rim warn so that it more resembled a modern bycoket of Robin Hood fame, minus the comical pointy crown, of course.
"Bienvenue a bord Le Vide Noir (Welcome aboard The Black Void), I am Captain Rocke Dupre. We shall get underway in a moment, but I wanted to make sure you were alright. A rough sea is unsettling for those unaccustomed."
A voice sounded over the intercom, "Nous sommes prets a partir, Capitaine (We're ready to go, Captain)."
"Proceder (Proceed), he replied. Then he said to us, "I bid you to, please, hold on." The sofa had a curved metal bar along the back to steady us.
I found the absence of engine noise disconcerting. At first, we felt little forward momentum, but as it increased, we could feel ourselves rise as one does in a lift.
"This feels strange," said Aiden.
"What kind of ship is this?" Cadmar asked.
"The Black Void is not a ship," said the captain. "Among other things, it is a hydrofoil. We will be off the coast of France in less than an hour."
"This craft must be new," I said to the captain.
He sat down. "It is a year old," he said. "When we reach France, the second in command will relieve me, as I will join you on your journey to Japan."
"Why you?" David asked.
"I will assist with transportation," he said, "and I am aware of your situation. When the guard from the British laboratory secreted away what they were obtaining from Cadmar, he brought it to me in London as its courier to France."
"'Obtaining'," Pearce said under his breath, "that's one way to put it."
"You used it, didn't you?" David said.
"Oui, I did," said the captain, "and in less than a week, it cured me of the cancer of the pancreas. I'm sorry how they treated you, Cadmar. They went about it all wrong, but please forgive me if I am conflicted. I wrestle with it, but I only desired to live."
"I understand," said Cadmar. "There's nothing to forgive. I would have done the same."
"I appreciate that," he said.
"So, what happens when we get to France?" Maggie asked.
"We can get closer to the coast in France, so don't worry about that, but we reverse the procedure. When we get to the beach, a van awaits us in a nearby car park. Only Monsieur Le Gal knows where we go from there."
Julien picked up from that point, "We drive three hours to the south of Paris to a hotel waiting for us in Melun. I will receive further instructions there from the home office."
We skimmed across the channel far faster than I anticipated. We readied ourselves to disembark about the time we had gotten over our seasickness. They brought The Black Void only a hundred yards from the beach. We exited through the lightlock, analogous to an airlock in many respects. A crew member used an unusual light for us to see in the dark, not that it helped much. The designers had covered the surface of the vessel in a substance made to reflect no light of any kind, and its design rendered it undetectable by radar or any other means. I found the experience of walking on the hull frightening. We couldn't see what we walked on. The eye had no references on which to focus except our shoes. As we climbed into our little boat, I looked back. The details we could detect by touch, and the door we exited through had vanished into a mass of black whose appearance lay indistinguishable from any other part of itself. As before, it had transformed into a black void in the water, and as we motored away from it, the blackness vanished into the darkness surrounding it.
When we had boarded the boat on the beach in England, I managed to stay dry. On this occasion, despite that we had reached land, the movement of the waves had rocked the boat as I moved to the front; I lost my balance and fell into the freezing Channel water where a wave washed over me. David moved to help me, but I stopped him; I saw no sense in wetting us both. My hydrophobic clothes and boots would remain dry, but water leaked beneath them, and my feet stood in two boot-shaped buckets of seawater.
Everyone waited for me on the beach, and upon joining the others, Captain Dupre said to us, "On behalf of the good people of this nation, I welcome you to France."
Everyone seemed enlivened by our successful departure from England. We picked up our things, and I slogged behind the group up the hill to the parking lot. David had kept me company, laughing as my feet squished with every step.
A different kind of passenger van awaited us. While stowing our bags into the back, I retrieved the hand towel I took from Maggie's flat. Everyone else had settled into the van. They watched me in the glow of the interior light from the fully open side door. I took off my jacket and unbuttoned my shirt.
"Rick, what are you doing?" Maggie asked.
"As contradictory as it may sound," I said, "my clothes feel quite dry, but I have soaked my skin beneath them, and seawater has filled these boots. I need to dry off and dump the boots. I will hurry, I promise."
"We are in no rush," said Dupre from behind the wheel.
Before I met David, I would have considered it improper to stand about naked before all my friends, including my best female friend. By that point, I found it liberating. Knowing my past, David, Maggie, and Aiden performed a golf clap, followed by everyone else, as if I'd sank a hole-in-one the instant my pants came down, and of course, Maggie couldn't let her surprise at my size go without comment. Its lack of shrinkage surprised even me. The cold water and the chilly air swirling about me hadn't shrunk it much, dangling nearly three-quarters the way to my knees. I just looked at them all, smirked, and made a mocking bow. I wanted to dry myself to minimize the salt left on my skin, and I did the best I could with what little towel I had.
"You should hurry," said David.
"Nearly done." I shook the water off my clothes and stuffed the towel into my boots to get the residual water out. I handed my clothes to David, who sat on the forwardmost bench seat, and I hopped in. I would put my pants back on when my skin felt warm and dry. I closed the door behind me, and we drove off.
"Captain Dupre, could you turn up the heat for a bit, please?" I asked.
"I set the heater to maximum earlier. You will have to let the heat build in the cabin. Oh, and everyone, please, call me Rocke."
"Very well," I said. "How did you end up with the unusual name of Rocke?"
"Rocke is not uncommon in France," he said. "It was my father's middle name."
"What's your middle name? If you don't mind my asking."
"My middle name is unusual. My full name is Rocke Lancier Dupre."
"C'est beau. Vos parents ont eu du bon gout en euphonie (That is beautiful. Your parents had good taste in euphony)," I said.
"Merci (Thank you)."
I inverted my pants to check the insides, and I noticed a fine powdery grit of recrystallizing salt in between the fibers. Unlike my boots, the hydrophobic treatment applied mostly to the outside of the garment. I would have to rinse them in fresh water to remove the salt. I concluded I could take care of that in the hotel shower. Until then, I couldn't wear them again for long without chafing.
"I'm glad my bag didn't fall into the water with me," I told David.
"Your skin feels dry now, why don't you take my jacket?"
"Thank you, but no, my skin has as much salt as these clothes. I wouldn't want it inside your jacket." I leaned against David, who wrapped his arms around me.
I noted a lot of darkness on that road, and a few towns off in the distance, for quite some time. The traffic started getting dense, even at almost 10 p.m., and I knew we were getting close to Paris.
I enjoyed the unique experience of riding through France wearing nothing but David's arms to keep me warm. Unfortunately, the salt made my skin feel dry and uncomfortable, and I longed for a shower.
Once we passed the Charles De Gaulle airport, we changed roads heading south. It took forty-five minutes before our arrival forced me to don my salty pants and slip into my shirt, which I refused to button. David carried my bag for me while I barefooted into the hotel, holding my coat and boots.
From the outside, I expected nothing much of the hotel, but the inside appeared far more respectable. The prudish balding man behind the check-in desk gave me the impression that I had snuck from the back seat of my boyfriend's car, leaving the seam of my nylons an utter scandal. As Julien checked us in, the man gave me a scathing glance.
Julien received and divvied up the keys to six rooms, all on the fifth floor. David and I had one, Maggie and Aiden had one, but everyone else got a private room. Cadmar held the case with the drone, and Aiden kept its remote. We all carried up our bags and packs.
The proprietors decorated the hotel in a modern style; they chose tan and beige with a black carpet. It seemed decent for a three-star hotel. It imbued a sense of well-maintained, potential cleanliness.
David and I ended up with a corner room, number 506. When the door shut behind us, David hadn't proceeded with his habit of taking me into his arms. Instead, we both stood at the door, staring into the room, scrutinizing the hell out of it. The decent-sized room contained a queen size bed, table with chairs, windows on two of the walls, and they had decorated it on the cheap side of the spectrum.
David turned to me. "Are you alright with this room?"
"I'm not sure," I said, "I have one reservation so far."
David looked down. "The black carpet...it's repulsive, isn't it?"
I looked at him and smiled. "You do know me, don't you?"
"I understand why they used it," he said. "You can't determine its level of filth by sight alone, but that makes it off-putting. An establishment of this kind calls for some form of hard-surface."
I glanced at David. "The ultimate test." I dropped my things and walked to the bed. I tousled the bedding --ensuring not to get any of it on the floor. We then proceeded to inspect the mattress for any sign of that bane of hoteliers everywhere: the bedbug. We found nothing, but it was better to remake a bed than get bitten.
Once having inspected the bathroom, we stood before the sink and mirror with David's arms around me. "I will accept this room if you will."
"I do," I said, and a series of hugs and kisses went on for some time. We had to find time for one another. I missed having my arms around David, the feel of his muscular back beneath my hands. He felt dense and for as odd as it may sound, tangible. For years, I experienced a sense of the intangibility of human intimacy for myself. I had learned to keep potential suitors at arm's length because, without exception, it ended in sorrow. So, rather than let someone hurt me, I kept them out of reach and didn't allow my feelings of loneliness to drive my actions. I understood that with David, I didn't have to do that. David's patient determination told me I didn't have to want him and make him want me. He wanted me of his own volition. I regretted none of my decision to let him in.
Later, I took my clothes into the shower and rinsed them off, inside and out, including my boots. I washed our socks in the sink and hung everything up to dry. David liked to talk as I showered; I believe he enjoyed the captive audience.
"What do you think of Monsieur Dupre?" he asked, feigning an exaggerated French accent.
"He's a competent man," I said. "He seemed polite and thoughtful. Why? You're not thinking of inviting him to come with us to Jiyu, are you? I'm not sure how many more people the penthouse can hold."
"It's too early for that sort of decision."
"Oh? It took less than an hour, and you wanted to bring Aiden with us."
"Aiden is special," said David. "I knew he would do well with us. The reason I ask about Rocke is due to the connection that he will now have with Cadmar. Cadmar will have a connection to others, of course, the same as Pearce, but that only works across the first generation. It gets blended out after that."
"Yes, I surmised as much," I said. "What's the problem?"
"Most people of the first generation will never meet Cadmar or Pearce," David said, "so their connection will never manifest itself. Instead, it will lie dormant, but Rocke has met Cadmar."
I turned off the shower. "Oh, I see," I said. "That's interesting. I guess we'll have to see how things go. I doubt Cadmar will show any interest, though; he has Tamika."
"Well...I just thought I would point that out. How does your skin feel?"
"Clean and salt-free," I said. "My clothes better be ready to wear in the morning; I think I scandalized the hotel desk clerk earlier. I don't care to repeat that during checkout."
A sudden knock came upon our door, and someone slipped a note beneath it. David picked it up and read it aloud. "It's from Julien."
[I have received the details of our next stop. We must leave early to reach our destination before dark. The hotel will accommodate our departure time and have breakfast ready for us by 4:00 a.m.]
"Four o'clock doesn't give us much time for sleeping," I said.
"Or anything else," said David with a smirk.
"We could always sleep on the way tomorrow."
I pushed him onto the bed. He had already removed his clothes, so I had easy access to what I wanted. I loved the enhancements he had gotten. His rapidly growing erection dripped precum, and it came in quite handy just then. I straddled him, and with a few lubricating attempts, I sank onto his shaft with ease. I felt full and enjoyed every moment of David's cock inside me.
After a few hours of playtime, we had fallen asleep, but at 2:00 a.m., from our door came a persistent light tapping. David, exhausted and comatose, hadn't heard it. I got up to check, and I saw Cadmar through the peephole. He wore only his pants and carried the case with the drone inside.
I opened the door and whispered to him. "Is something wrong?"
"David's asleep." Cadmar then smiled at me and glanced down at my cock. "Worn him out, have you?"
I almost laughed, but instead, I decided to own it. "Yes, I did. So, what's up?"
He gave me a mild look of surprise but pressed on. "It's Julien," he said, "he's not in his room. I looked around for him, and I think I saw him with someone in a room on the sixth floor."
"Fascinating. Is he still there?"
"Yes."
I paused to think for a moment. "Is he with a woman?"
"Yes, I think so," he said, "but I couldn't see them clearly at that angle.
I nodded. "You can relax. It's most likely Julien's wife. He's about to leave on a long trip, and he would want to see her."
"I'm sorry," Cadmar said. "I thought it looked suspicious since we just got here."
"That's alright. Did you have trouble sleeping?"
He smiled. "I'm next door to Aiden and Maggie."
"We'll be eating breakfast at 4:00 a.m. Surely, they're not still..."
I should have known better the instant I said it. Cadmar just looked at me with raised eyebrows and widened eyes, tipping his head in feigned disbelief.
"Still? You're kidding," I whispered.
"I don't know what enhancement gave him that kind of energy, but I want it."
I laughed in silence. "David needs to sleep," I said. "We could talk in your room."
"Would you mind? I figured I could sleep in the van. I get bored while riding."
I quietly put my pants on and wrote David a note with the little pad and pen that came with the room. I told him I had left with Cadmar, that I would explain later, and I would see him at 3:45 a.m. I gazed upon David before I closed the door. He was sleeping so soundly. I couldn't help but smile to myself.
"You love David, don't you?" Cadmar asked as we walked down the hallway.
"Yes, I do. I imagine you miss Tamika a lot. Have you ever stayed away from her this long?"
He shook his head and slipped his key into the lock. Cadmar's slightly smaller room had just one double window, but it had the same dining set. We sat at the table, and Cadmar turned a chair around and sat backward upon it. The silence told me Aiden and Maggie had finally fallen asleep.
"Tamika thinks I'm dead, doesn't she?"
"I'm sorry, but yes," I said.
"Did you meet her?" he asked, smiling. "What did you think?"
Usually, people who ask that sort of question want to hear something positive, and while I could have accommodated him, it seemed odd to ask me. I shrugged. "What's my opinion worth?"
"It's true, I barely know you," he said. "We could remedy that if we could Share with one another. I see you are wearing the Trust ring."
"Oh, I'm sorry," I said. "This ring is yours. I've meant to give it to you." I licked my knuckle, preparing to remove it.
"No, don't take it off," he said. "I'm not worthy of it. It's all my fault. If I thought to look both ways before crossing the street, this mess wouldn't have happened. Such a stupid mistake for me to make."
As I looked at him just then, I felt sorry for him. "So, who taught you to be your own worst critic? Was it your father? I can hear it now. `Why can't you be more like your brother, Magnar?'."
His face held a look of complete astonishment and suspicion. "Tamika didn't tell you that. How did you know that? I've never told anyone that, but Tamika."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I don't mean to upset you. That's a frequent problem on Earth, so I just guessed. I use abductive reasoning a lot. David calls me an intuitive empath, and maybe I am, I don't know."
"I've never heard of abductive reasoning."
"It's where you take a set of data and infer the most likely explanation for it. People use it all the time. David thinks, and perhaps I do, that I'm taking all the data I have, including the subtle bits that I get from my observations and through my intuition. I know some people laugh at intuition. To me, it's just a rapid comparison of likely facts based on previous experience with other people that turned out to be true. I pay close attention to facial expressions, intonation, word usage, body language, emotional contextual associations, and probably a whole host of things I can't think of off the top of my head. However, one thing David believes about me is true. I have a great deal of empathy. I do feel how others are feeling, or at least as close as I can come to it, and when you blamed yourself, I felt that. I've seen that so often. David does the same thing. So, when is the compassion you show for others ever okay to direct toward yourselves?"
"I guess I've learned to hold myself to a higher standard," said Cadmar.
"No, I think you're mistaken. No doubt, you do that, but you are exhibiting something else. You're doing the very same thing I had done most of my life. You've heard the criticisms so often that you do it for them when they're not even around. You are living up to the expectations of someone else. I've learned you can't be yourself and them too. Would you like to hear something that Amare told me?"
His eyes perked up. "You've spoken with Amare?"
"Oh, yes. Amare and I have a bit of a rapport going on. David told me, and I don't know how true this is, that I've spoken to Amare more than most of the members of the Trust. Anyway, he said the inability to forgive oneself for perceived failure is damaging to the individual. It makes them expect unrealistic and unreasonable things of themselves, and that is no way to live a good life. Does that sound like someone familiar to you?"
"How does David put up with you?" he asked, and then smiled.
I laughed quite hard. "Oh, honesty's such a wonderful thing. David can't stand it when I 'read' him. He always gives me a funny look. I promise I'm not like that most of the time. But face it, you wanted to get to know me, and this is a chunk of who I am."
"I've never met anyone like you," he said, "I see what would make David so attached to you."
"Thank you for that, I appreciate it," I said. "So, tell me about yourself. Do you know how old you are? How long have you been part of the Trust?"
"On Jiyu, age doesn't mean anything after we consider someone adult. Some people monitor their birthday clock for a while, but they give up one day. Whether I'm a hundred and fifty-six or ten thousand years old, I will look the same. Our experiences set us apart, and tonight you have given me a glimpse into myself that I had yet to see. Thank you, I won't forget what you told me." He tapped his head. "Some things are good to remember." He smiled. "I joined the Trust a hundred jears ago."
"So, how did you meet Tamika?" I asked.
"I've known Tamika most of my life," he said. "Not closely as a kid, but I worshiped her from afar from the age of thirteen. Tamika is far older than me. In many ways, I felt drawn to her." He closed his eyes to share a vision from his enhanced memory only he could see. "She was strong like our midsummer gales. She moved, graceful and fluid, like the play of the wind on a field of rye, and she was more beautiful and dangerous than a lightning storm. And, surprisingly, she never had a mate. Men tried to take up with her, but she could always best them in swordplay. She and her sword have a special connection, and she devoted her life to learning to wield it. She measured herself and her suitors by it. If they didn't measure up, she discarded them.
"I knew what I had to do, so I went about improving myself from the age of thirteen in as many ways as I could think, to make myself worthy of her. I got a sword and practiced for hours a day, and I studied and learned as much about things that interested her as I could, and I discovered I liked those things too. I did that for jears, and then one day at twenty-five, I presented myself to her with my intentions. She accepted, and as I expected, I had to fight her. She whipped me rather quickly, but I lasted longer than most of them had, and she agreed to another match in a jear. I felt elated because that rarely happened. So, I worked hard, and when the time came to fight her, she beat me again, but I lasted longer than the first time, and we made the same arrangement. Losing didn't deter me in the least, and I worked harder than ever. So, the next jear came around, we fought, and I still did not win; she is that good. But she said that we should end it and move on with our separate lives, and I said no. I told her I would fight her, jear after jear for the rest of my life if I had to because I loved her that much. And you know what she did? She came up to me, kissed me, and said, `I know. I have watched you for jears, and how could I possibly say no to anyone so determined.' We were mated soon after, and we've been happy together."
"That is some story," I said, staring at him with admiration, and a new insight into this man. I couldn't help but like him. "Is all that true?"
He nodded. "Every word of it."
"You are a phenomenon," I said. "I thought before I met you how lucky you were to have Tamika, but it didn't involve luck, did it?"
"Not a bit." He shook his head.
"I like you," I said, "you're interesting, and who knew you were such a romantic?"
He laughed. "Now that I know you better," he said. "I can tell you have pretty sound judgment, and I like you too. So, what do you think of Tamika?"
I smiled. "I think Tamika is unlike any woman I've ever met, and I can imagine she is as you described her. I will do my best to make sure you get back to her. I want to see the two of you together."
He smiled. "I appreciate that."
"Okay, tell me," I said, "I must know. What can you see with those amazing eyes? I already know they can see bones and through walls. What else can they do?"
"They have several modes. I can see across a wide spectrum. I can see in the dark. There's a lot of things."
"In the dark? I bet you had an unusual experience with Rocke's vessel. Could you see it?"
Cadmar shook his head. "Even in night vision, there was nothing to see."
"Fascinating. So, why did they interest you so much you were willing to give up your eyes?"
"In the default mode, they function no differently than my original eyes. I can see everything you do, but in one mode, I can see sound waves. It seemed like such an astonishing thing to me. I wanted to see more. I knew I had to have them, and I don't regret it."
We talked for a while, and I enjoyed Cadmar's company, but when 3:45 a.m. arrived, I wanted to get back to David. I wouldn't forget that night despite not having slept much. I left Cadmar to get ready for breakfast, and his room door closed behind me with an echoing snap.
The hotel clocks weren't synchronized, and the alarm in our room sounded two minutes before my arrival. When I got back to room 506, David lay uncovered on his back with my note on his chest. He smiled when he saw me and placed his hands behind his head.
"Is it important that I know?" he asked, referring to the note.
I walked to the bed, straddled him, and kissed him. "You know something I love about you."
"My birthday suit? I wore it just for you." He pretended to brush lint off his shoulder and adjust an invisible necktie.
"Of all your suits, it is my favorite, I admit," I said. "It's the most attractive and best fitting of the suits you own, but I was thinking about how much I love you because you trust me."
He smiled a little, and with his finger, he traced the line of my lips. He cupped my cheek in his hand, and with little effort, bent upward to kiss me. "I love that I haven't misplaced my trust in you." He moved the note and pulled me down to him, and I placed my head on his chest. I could hear the rhythm of his heartbeat.
"I could lay like this all day," he said, stroking my hair, "but we should get ready. I wouldn't want them to wait for us."
I wrapped my arms beneath him and squeezed. I kissed him on his furry chest and got up. "No, it isn't important for you to know," I said, "but I'll tell you anyway." And I did. The incident intrigued him, but he agreed that Julien merely spent the time with his wife.
Swapping places at the sink to brush our teeth, he asked, "So, what did you learn about Cadmar?"
"I like him, such a terrible loss to Jiyu if he had died."
"That's high praise," said David, continuing to dress. "Cadmar must have made an impression on you."
"How well do you know Cadmar?" I asked.
"Not well. I know Magnar more; I thought of him as a second father to me growing up. Cadmar had mated Tamika long ago, and he seemed more settled. Magnar remained single. You know Magnar, he's very brusque and tends to insinuate himself into the lives of the people he likes. Why? Do you think I should?"
"Absolutely," I said. "I think he may surprise you. Cadmar has `unplumbed depths,' I believe, is the phrase. He's night and day compared to Magnar. Don't get me wrong, I like Magnar too, but Cadmar is worth knowing."
At 4:02, we entered the breakfast area, and the staff had laid a ton of food onto the bar. For a French three-star hotel, it amazed me at how much they had. I commented about it and discovered that Julien had them bring in more food than they usually carry. He had seen us eat. They had some meats, but lots of eggs, cheeses, fruits, nuts, and cereals, along with several gallons of purified water, and a few bottles of wine that remained untouched.
"Good morning, Maggie, Aiden, Cadmar, Julien, Pearce, and Rocke," I said. "I swear if our group keeps growing, I'll need my memory enhanced."
"You could always just call us 'people'," Pearce said. "I promise not to take offense over the impersonalization."
Pearce continued to improve, and that pleased me. He looked relatively healthy.
"So, Aiden," said David, blithely unaware, "how did you sleep last night?"
"No comment," he said, causing Maggie to giggle.
This exchange had Cadmar nearly choking on his food.
"Rocke," said David, "how do you feel this morning?"
"I feel marvelous," he said.
For a man who recently had cancer, his remarkable recovery, no doubt, had him living on quite a high.
Our bags sat off to the side, but Cadmar took his responsibility to protect the drone seriously. He carried it with him no matter what he was doing. Several of us helped him get food so that he wouldn't have to let it go. We treated it like he had the most precious thing ever. In a sense, he held Jiyu in his hands for us, and we would protect it.
My curiosity about Julien's late-night liaison with the suspected wife got to me, so I put my hypothesis to the test when I sat next to him to eat. "How's your wife?" I asked him.
He struck a curious expression. "My wife is well. You knew she met me here. How did you know that?"
I leaned in to whisper out of the earshot of everyone else. "From Cadmar. He wasn't sleeping because of you-know-who next door." I gestured with my head toward Maggie and Aiden. Julien burst out laughing.
"What's so funny?" I said, laughing.
He leaned into me and whispered, "Cadmar stayed on one side of them, and I on the other. My wife arrived a bit late, but when she heard them, she asked me to move us to another room. She said she didn't want us to feel like we had to compete. So, I moved us to another floor."
I admit it was amusing. "Where is she now? I wanted to meet her."
"I'm sorry you'll miss her," he said. "She felt exhausted after the drive and having stayed up much of the night. I said my goodbye before I left this morning."
"Will she accept your absence for a while?" I asked.
"Not really, I could not give her a definitive day I would return."
"I'm sorry, Julien," I said.
He shrugged. "It is as it is."
After everyone finished eating and made the obligatory skip-to-the-loo, we left by 5:15. Julien deliberately excluded the destination to this leg of our journey from the note. He received the rest of the details early that morning. He relayed the message as we sat in the van.
"Before I give you more details," he said. "You should know that the Home Office says they have made the best, most direct route they could. Once again, they apologize for the impossibility of an aircraft, but we have six cabins on a magnificent ship."
"For how far," Cadmar asked.
"From the Riva dei Sette Martiri in Venice --just down the promenade from San Marco Square-- through the Suez Canal, and on to Yokohama."
"Julien," David said with disappointment in his voice, "I'm sorry, but did you forget what happened on our last boat. Unless you make it a hydrofoil, I don't think we can suffer that length of time."
"I had 'mal de mer' (seasickness) also," he said. "I will tell them why we cannot accept that. In the meantime, we continue to Venice, and we wait. We have reservations at a hotel there more befitting a dignitary."
"If we never take a ship," said Cadmar, "that limits us to aircraft, ground transportation, and walking. And we can't take an aircraft without difficulty."
"Well, we can't walk or drive to Japan," Aiden said. "At some point, we take a boat or an aircraft. We may as well take this boat and make the best of it."
"Julien, please let them know that we appreciate the assistance they give us," David said, "and that we wouldn't dismiss their efforts without reason. Even if all but one of us felt fine on a larger ship, we could not expect that person to ride in misery for the sake of everyone else. That would be wrong."
It took a few minutes, but Julien received a text tone. "I have their reply: `[We will try other means, but we urge you to take the ship, even if everyone dosed themselves with seasick pills for the duration. It remains a complication to circumvent security, and we have this route cleared all the way through. Captain Okamoto knows your situation and your needs. He is willing to transport you, no questions asked, for what he refers to as a small, precious gift],' end of text."
"What `small precious gift' does the captain want?" I asked.
"I will ask," said Julien, typing the text as he spoke.
"I think I can guess," said David.
The return text had toned. "The captain wants the treatment he's heard so much about."
David took a deep breath and palmed his face.
"How long would it take to get to Japan by boat?" Aiden asked.
"I will ask," Julien said, texting.
"What are you thinking?" I asked David.
"At one point, I would have said 'no' to his request," he said, "but it will spread everywhere eventually, so saying 'no' now only serves to harm us."
"Right," I said, "and we could get medication for seasickness."
The return text toned. "The route is almost direct," said Julien, "with only one stop for fuel and provisions. The captain was taking a passenger to Palermo and will arrive in Venice Monday morning fueled, provisioned, and ready to go. The journey will take 18 days." Julien leaned toward us. "David, it could take longer some other way."
David nodded to Julien. "Aiden's right," David said to me. "We must take the boat and make the best of it," David said. He turned sideways in his seat and spoke to everyone. "Okay, here's the situation, 18 days on a Japanese ship, potentially popping seasick pills, eating who knows what, but getting to Japan, or we wait for something faster that may take much longer to acquire...if ever," David added for emphasis. "Anyone who doesn't want us to take the ship, speak now, and present your case." No one said anything.
"There better be a lot of pills," Pearce said.
"Please, tell them we'll take the ship," David said to Julien.
"Indeed," said Julien, nodding, "I will have them overnight a case of the pills to our hotel in Venice."
In reply, the decision pleased them. We could expect the pills the next afternoon, and that the Torekka Maru would leave in three days, on Monday at 8:00 a.m. The ship could have exceeded our expectations, and although I had visited it many times, I certainly could think of worse things than spending the weekend in Venice.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Having settled on a plan, a general sigh of relief had overcome us all. Many of us had stayed awake most of the night, so it didn't take long before we fell asleep. David bunched our jackets behind him against the side of the van, and I leaned against David with his arms around me. That had become my favorite way to sleep regardless of the location or circumstance, and I know he enjoyed it.
At eleven o'clock, we stopped for lunch in Geneva, Switzerland. We wouldn't stay long, so we chose a bistro at random. It proved itself suitable and filling, even with their predictable cuisine, not that David, Cadmar, or Aiden would notice. The menu had no photos, and since they wouldn't know a fondant from a fondue, I made recommendations for them.
As for the location, I wanted one on the lake if for no other reason than to remind us of home. I knew the gesture would not have gone unappreciated by Pearce and Cadmar. I wanted to keep our spirits up, and the boredom of an 18-day journey aboard the ship might have drained us all.
"How much longer before we get there?" Maggie asked Julien as we climbed back into the van.
"According to the internet, about six hours," he said.
"How do you feel, Rocke?" Cadmar asked, standing there with the drone case in his hands. "If you need to stop halfway to stand up for a few minutes, that's fine with us. Don't think you must drive straight through."
"Thank you for asking, but I feel fine," he said, "I slept well last night, and it's a pleasure to have stamina again. The cancer made me ill for some time before the treatment cured me." Rocke paused for a moment and reached up to grip Cadmar's shoulders, staring him in the eyes. "Anything that any of you need from me, I am here for you. You want me to drive all over the world or swim the length of the Grand Canal; whatever you want, I will do it."
Cadmar stared at him for a moment, but there was no doubt of Rock's sincerity. Cadmar hugged him, thanking him for being there.
David took my hand and pulled me into the van. "And, what about you?" he asked. "Have you slept enough, or will we get back to it?"
"If we sleep all day, we won't sleep tonight," I said. "Would you mind if we stayed up all night?"
He smiled knowingly.
I shook my head. "I should have known better than to ask."
Rocke stopped at the halfway point for a bathroom break at an Autogrill rest stop on the autostrada. Back on the road, however, the last three hours flew by. We woke up just before arriving at our parking destination in Mestre. From there, we would ride ten minutes by train to reach Venice.
We grabbed our bags and crossed the street to the station, where Julien used the kiosk to avoid the lines for our tickets. We validated them and boarded the next train to the island. Among our group, only Rocke, Julien, and I had a previous visit to Venice. I looked forward to showing David around. As the train entered the causeway over the water, we could see some of Murano in the distance.
"I've seen photos of San Marco Square," said Cadmar, "but apart from that, what makes Venice so special besides the water?"
"Its beauty," I said, "its artistic style, the fact that it took a great amount of human ingenuity to build it. Only one Venice exists; people have often tried to imitate it, but no imitation could do it justice."
I had never visited Venice with someone I loved. So, I had never experienced its so-called 'romantic' side. I wondered how different an experience I might have.
The train pulled into the station, and we hopped off. Visitors packed the train station, and they would do so often throughout the weekend, providing the train workers hadn't gone on strike.
The newcomers in our group found the architecture and the ambiance of Venice impressive. Although for myself, having seen Jiyu, I couldn't say the same. The beauty of Venice didn't compare to One City for me.
The Italians called the Venetian equivalent to a bus, a vaporetto. The good-sized boat could pack about 230 passengers, so by no means could one describe it as dinky. We picked up our three-day vaporetto tickets, courtesy of our benefactors, and went to board one. It would take us from the train station through the entire length of the Grand Canal to San Marco Square, but as we reached the turnstile, Pearce balked on us. He refused to get on.
"You don't understand," he said. "The likelihood that the choppy water last night caused the rest of you became motion sick is rather good. On a casual boat ride and calm water, you may not have that difficulty. I have always had motion sickness problems, and they can't seem to fix that back home. Got a pill? I'll happily take it, and if you give me half an hour, I will join you with pleasure. If not, I insist on walking."
Having experienced it recently, we could hardly blame him. "I have visited Venice frequently," I said, "so I know the way, and we've ridden in the van for hours. Walking might do us some good."
"I could use a walk," Cadmar said.
"It wouldn't bother me to walk," said Maggie. "It's not that far, right?"
"Nothing is that far in Venice," I said.
"Any objections?" David asked.
"Would anyone mind if I took the boat and got us checked in?" asked Julien. "I still have our passports from yesterday."
"Oui, me as well," said Rocke. "I've seen Venice. It's beautiful, but I've driven all day, and I'm a bit tired."
"No, please," I said. "Do what you feel is best for you. I can get us there, not a problem. Oh, one last thing, though. May I know the name of the hotel?"
"The Hotel Didoni," said Julien with a simple smile.
I gasped. "You're kidding! We're staying there?" I could not believe it. I knew the Hotel Didoni as arguably the most luxurious hotel in Venice and one where I had only seen the lobby. I refused to waste what little money I had to stay there. During my past visits, I would have just enough money to afford a tiny room for one night at the back of that hotel, with a view of a wall to the building next door. At that point, I would return home, having spent an entire week's hotel budget. Julien and Rocke told us they would see us soon and departed for the dock.
"What's the Hotel Didoni?" David asked.
"I've ruined enough what Julien meant as a surprise," I said. "So, I will say no more, other than to tell you that this hotel room will not require a strip-search."
I led our group across the Scalzi bridge, following the trail of pedestrian traffic, feeling grateful to arrive in Venice on the cusp of November; autumn had far fewer tourists to contend with than summer.
We scarcely noticed the light, brisk breeze among the narrow paths between the buildings. The sun had dropped in the sky, and night would soon fall. I loved Venice at night with its beautifully lit buildings and fewer people on the streets.
The builders of Venice made its walking areas a chaotic series of pathways on a level of complexity that the underground of Facility3 could never imitate. One could find oneself "lost" in Venice, despite how easy the signage made reaching one of the main points of reference: the train station, the Rialto, or San Marco Square. I enjoyed the privilege of "losing my way" in Venice every time I visited. As we trekked to the hotel, I remarked on the signage, in case my less adventurous companions became disoriented while exploring the historical city for themselves that weekend.
I gave them a bit of a tour on the main path. They enjoyed the tidbits of information I had provided, especially the juicy bits from my own experience.
Photographs of San Marco Square could never do it justice. One had to experience and hold the square within the entirety of one's vision. It remained as magnificent as I had remembered, even at dusk, as we saw it then. Napoleon called it Europe's drawing-room, and I could see why, at least for the era.
"The book in our library showed a huge flock of birds here," said Cadmar. "Where did they go?"
"The ones that remain have settled down to roost for the night," I said, "but the number of pigeons has plummeted since it became illegal to feed them. Their acidic droppings were damaging the buildings and the artwork."
"Aww," said Cadmar.
"Pigeons are disgusting birds," Maggie said, "many cities consider them pests."
Aiden leaned into Cadmar. "They're little more than flying rodents." Aiden teased, slapping his hand on Cadmar's back. "Sorry, if that disappoints you, buddy."
"I want to see this hotel," said David. "Where do we go?"
I led them around the corner of the Doge's Palace and out to the wide promenade, known as Riva degli Schiavoni, and a broader view of the lagoon.
We found the Hotel Didoni just down the walkway past the Bridge of Sighs. When we entered the building, the sight before us was breathtaking.
"Merde," Maggie whispered.
"I feel underdressed," said David.
"Wow," said Aiden. "Would you call this hotel a dump, David?"
"I should think not," he said.
The owner had given the building a meticulous restoration, and then sumptuously decorated it with revitalized and well-cared-for, period-appropriate furnishings. It had marble columns and archways, inlaid marble flooring, gorgeous textured marble walls, balconies, and carpeted marble staircases reaching the heights of the building. Anyone who thought that marble rooms sound cold and bland had not witnessed the warmth and beauty before us. As the epitome of 14th Century grandeur, the former Venetian palazzo continued to thrive as the wonderfully resplendent Hotel Didoni. Its beauty compared to those on Jiyu, but One City had no Venetian-styled buildings.
"Does anyone see Julien or Rocke?" Cadmar asked.
When we wandered farther into the lobby, Pearce saw them first. They awaited our arrival in the seating area near the front desk. Julien returned our passports and handed us our room keys. When the others got theirs, they departed to settle in. Among our group, only Julien, David, and I remained in the lobby.
When it finally came to David and me, Julien jingled the key in front of my face to entice me. "I know you will enjoy this room," he said with a smile.
"They keep this hotel constantly booked up, Julien," I said. "How did they manage it?"
"I don't know, but they did," he said. "Come on; you know you want it."
I took the key. "Thank you, Julien." I glanced at the key tag and gasped. "Julien, this says `La Suite del Doge.' You gave us the Doge's Suite."
"And...," he said.
Speechless, I suddenly felt a profusion of emotions wash over me.
"What's the matter?" David asked.
"I don't know what to say."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because he knows you both will stay three nights in the most elegant suite in all of Venice," said Julien, trying to look anywhere but at me, "S'il vous plait, laissez avant que le regard sur votre visage me fasse pleurer (Please, leave before the look on your face makes me cry)."
The hotel had a lift, but David and I wanted to see the view from the grand staircase, so we walked up. Our companions' rooms ended up scattered about the hotel on different floors, but we climbed the stairs to the top.
The Doge's Suite had frescoes on the ceiling. The columns and archways, softened by luxurious draperies highlighted the sitting, dining, and bedrooms with its period-appropriate, gilded furniture. I had dreamt of having a bathroom like the one we enjoyed that weekend. The view of the lagoon from our balcony looked magnificent with the island of San Giorgio Maggiore off in the distance. Any description I could provide would poorly convey the beauty of the suite, but its beauty did not cause me to have the tears welling my eyes that day. I had an unfulfilled longing to experience a moment like that with someone I loved, and I would remember that occasion with David for the rest of my life.
David helped me remove my jacket and slid off his own. He held me so close to him, and I could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Before he could kiss me, I kissed him with as much passion and intensity as I felt at that moment. I started pulling at his shirt tucked into his pants, and he did the same with mine. We had just finished unbuttoning one another's shirt when a knock came upon the door. Cadmar and Aiden had forced us to stop.
"This better be good," David said to me of our intruders.
David opened the door, and they immediately noticed our partial state of undress, as well as the vexed expression on David's face.
"Yes?" David asked in as pleasant a tone as he could muster just then.
"Julien told us- Oh...we are so sorry," said Cadmar, "this can wait," He held a palm outward toward us, while his other hand gripped the handle of the drone case.
"No. No. We're on hold," David said, "just make it quick." He gestured them inside and closed the door behind them.
"Right," said Aiden. "We wanted to get your input on a plan to protect the drone. Cadmar walking about the city with the drone case would seem conspicuous."
"We felt the safest place for the drone was flying cloaked over the city," Cadmar added, "which would also give us the use of Iris."
With a hand on the doorknob, David spoke rapidly to hurry things along. "Sounds great. The plan has my vote. Keep your connection to Iris on and let Pearce know." David snatched open the door, but they just stood there. "Do you have something else?"
"One tiny unrelated detail," Aiden said, glancing at Cadmar.
"You have all the money," said Cadmar.
"Oh!" David rushed to and dug into his bag, removing some bills. "Sorry about that, here's twelve hundred euros. Two hundred apiece ought to get you started. Try not to spend it all in one place. Make sure to give Julien and Rocke two hundred apiece as well. Tell them dinner is on us." Then I think he winked at them as he ushered them out the door because they suddenly had a funny smile on their faces as the door closed.
With them gone, he turned and picked me up over his shoulder, carrying me off to the bedroom. Things were going well and getting heated when another knock sounded on the door in the living room.
"These people are conspiring, I swear," he said.
I laughed. The persistent knock sounded again.
"We didn't use the `Do Not Disturb' sign," I said.
He gestured that he would fix that problem and hopped up. He donned the white robe that we saw in the bathroom earlier and answered the door. I couldn't hear what they said, but a minute of talking occurred, then the door snap shut, and I heard clicking sounds.
"There! The door has the sign, and I locked the door, so no more interruptions."
"What did they want?" I asked.
"Oh, just a hotel employee with an envelope for me. I left it on the coffee table. It can wait, whatever it is." Slipping out of the robe, he left it at the foot of the bed and climbed to my side.
He kissed me then pulled me by my legs to stand me up facing the side of the bed. I could feel the heat from his cock lying against my butt cheek. He slammed my upper body onto the bed. He wet my hole with his saliva and precum, and with a rapid shove, he rammed his cock balls-deep into my ass.
"Oh!"
He leaned over and whispered, to me grinding his pelvis into my ass. "Tight. Of all your playground equipment, do you enjoy this most? Do you enjoy this bigger cock in that little hole of yours? I had it made especially for you, you know that, don't you?"
"Yes." I arched my back giving him greater access. "I love your cock."
"What do you love most about it?"
"It's attached to you," I said.
He kissed me and wrapped his arms under my shoulders and pulled me onto him. I could feel him throb deep within me as he ran his hands down the front of my torso. He grabbed my hips and began to fuck me. The head of his cock rubbing my prostate with every stroke. I did my best not to cum, but it only took fifteen minutes, and I came. He didn't stop, he kept fucking like it never happened.
Half an hour later he stopped and stood me up. He cock-walked me to the window with the magnificent view in the front room. He fucked me standing there kissing my neck as I looked out the window for a while.
"I'm going to breed you," he said.
He thrust a few more times and bred me as a good mate should. He cock-walked me again to the sofa at the end of the bed. He fucked me while I kneeled upon it. I held onto it to keep my balance. He eventually moved me onto the bed, on my stomach. He could fuck in that position for quite a long time. He thrust into me for an hour before he told me he would breed me again. When he did, he laid on top of me, his cock buried in my ass. I would have loved to stay that way until morning, but the exertion had us exhausted and starving.
A few hours later, we ordered food and charged it to our room. It seemed like the thing to do when one stays in the best suite of a hotel. We chatted while we had our 'sarde in saor' and 'risotto al fruitti di mare'. I had ordered the two fish dishes, but David didn't know whether he would enjoy them. His semi-vegetarianism had mostly happened due to the vegan cuisine on Jiyu, not by choice. On Earth, he still ate eggs and cheese, but he refused to eat mammals. Occasionally, he ate chicken when he saw no other decent protein sources on the menu, but always avoided fish for some reason. I thought perhaps David found the endless variety of seafood dishes daunting. He enjoyed the sour sardine dish, but he couldn't make himself eat the seafood risotto. They throw everything into it from shrimp and tuna to mussels and squid, even I found it overwhelming. In case it proved impossible to stomach, I also ordered a couple of authentic Italian pizzas with every vegetable they offered. David loved it, but then who wouldn't enjoy a tasty pizza with their favorite toppings.
"How could you live on Earth for ten years and not once have pizza?"
"The restaurant at the hotel didn't serve pizza," he said.
"Well, if I had known, I would have gotten you one while we were dating."
"We must bring this dish to Jiyu," he said between bites.
"I foresee one problem with that. Jiyu has no mammals from which to make cheese."
David thought for a moment. "Well, there's always-"
"Don't say it! I'm not endorsing a pizza made with human cheese. That's just gross."
My comment had him in a laughing fit for a good minute. When he finally calmed down, he told me, "I thought we could simply engineer some cheese in a lab."
"Oh, that's an appetizing improvement, I must say. Well, it's half-past nine. What shall we do after we eat?"
"I don't know," he said, "you guide me. What do people do at night in Venice?"
"They mostly indulge in sex, sleeping, eating, strolling, drinking, or gambling."
"For now," he said, "you have me sated on the sex. After the pizza, however, I could use some strolling."
While I cleaned up in the bathroom, our plans took an odd and unexpected detour.
"Rick, we need to talk," said David from the other room.
"Haven't changed your mind on the human cheese, have you?"
"Ah no," he said, "you and I remain firmly locked in agreement on that. It's this message brought to the room earlier."
I joined him on the sofa at the foot of the bed. He handed me the note. It read:
[David,
You don't know me, but you should. I have information you will want. Please, meet me in the ghetto on the bench in front of the memorial at 3:00 a.m. tonight. Please, bring Rick; I would very much like to meet you both. I mean you no harm, despite the late hour and setting.
Sincerely,
E. M.]
"Fascinating," I said. "Would you consider going?"
"I would like you to think on this note," he said, "do that thing you do, and you let me know if we should go because I honestly couldn't say. I'll go along with whatever you think. I trust you."
"Okay, I'll do my best." He kissed me and left for the shower.
I took a deep breath and began inspecting the note for any clue that it might give me. I first noticed that it had a faint, unusual odor, like herbs or spice, and maybe fruit. It smelled familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. The letter and the envelope matched, as they came from the same ivory linen stationery. I used a lamp to scrutinize it. The light revealed a watermark in the upper third of the sheet, the name of a hotel there in Venice: The Albergo del Ghetto.
I studied the writing itself. The cleanliness of the print appeared as though someone had computer-generated it, but too many telltale signs revealed it as handwriting. The series of meticulously crafted non-cursive letters had all the capitalized and lower-case letters precisely the same height, respectively. And they had printed them as a rigid horizontal line --on unlined paper no less. This person wrote a great deal on unlined paper, a scholar perhaps. As a left-hander myself, I couldn't write without leaving smudges. No smudges on this page told me they wrote with their right hand. The letters themselves also revealed that the author hadn't written it with a felt tip or ballpoint pen. Their edges had a distinctive clarity, and the instrument used characterized each letter with thick horizontal strokes and thin vertical strokes, causing me to surmise the author had written it with a kind of fountain pen. People still used fountain pens, but as an unusual item in the 21st century, I counted the clue as significant.
The author wanted to meet us in the ghetto and appeared to stay in a hotel there. The location seemed meaningful, or at least I got that impression from the missive. It led me to surmise that they most likely had Jewish origins. They worded the letter with a cordial familiarity, yet with a sense of urgency, and they used the magic word twice: please.
I might have seen the late hour of the meeting as a red flag if we stayed in virtually any other city, but I had visited Venice many times. I knew the rarity of violent crime in Venice, even throughout the night. One could walk about the city at 3:00 a.m. with nothing untoward happening to you.
I did wonder, though, why they would do it on Shabbat. I understood that Jews couldn't work on the Sabbath. It seemed uncharacteristic, or perhaps Jews made exceptions.
I knew little about Jewish people. However, I always felt more respect for them than other groups. Many open-minded Jews accepted gay people, and to me, they had earned a level of respect that many others had not. Also, I respected that they still struggled in many ways, and I knew what that felt like as a persecuted gay man.
David sat next to me, wearing one of the white robes. "What do you think?"
"Do you want to know the 'how' or just the 'what'?" I knew the answer; I think he didn't want to demystify what he referred to as that 'thing' I do. For some strange reason I had yet to discover, he enjoyed the quaint notion that somehow, I had an almost unworldly talent that he couldn't comprehend.
"I only want to know the 'what'," he said.
"Yes, we should go, and I know how to get there."
"You don't think it's a trap?"
"No, it's not a trap," I said, and then decided to go out on a limb and give him it all. "We will meet a Jewish man, definitely a scholar, and I think, a man of some distinction, and possibly a Rabbi."
"You're kidding," he said.
"I'm serious. We probably should leave at about 2:30 a.m., no make that 2:15. So, what shall we do in the meantime?"
We took a long four-and-a-half-hour nap. The bed felt warm and cozy, and I held David in our slumber. I slept off and on during that time. As I laid there embracing David, I delighted in the closeness of the skin-on-skin contact humans crave so much. I could think of nowhere else in the universe I wanted to be except right there. David could make my senses heighten, the smell of his hair, the sensation of his skin against mine, and the solid feel of his muscled torso against my chest. When I laid with David, I knew heaven existed.
I thought to set the alarm before we slept, and I had fallen asleep somewhere before 2:10 am. Whoever made our abominable bedside clock either did so for the hearing impaired or the sadistic so-and-so designed it to cause a nervous condition. The aptly named "alarm" sounded so suddenly with powerful blasts, destroying the serenity of our silent room, it gave us both a nasty shock. We jumped from the bed as if someone had attacked us, and it took several minutes to calm ourselves once I had stopped the din.
Many hotels lock their doors at some point in the night for security. As we descended the grand staircase, I wondered if exiting the building at 2:15 in the morning would cause difficulty. However, the door of the Hotel Didoni remained unlocked at all hours, and they continually occupied the front desk.
We stepped out into the starlit night. The vapor of our breath shone in the glow from the glass door and lingered with no wind to carry it away. I glanced left, then right. With the promenade empty, we had met soothing tranquility that couldn't exist during the day. We heard only water lapping stone walls, an occasional gondola bumping a dock and the patter of our boots on the stone blocks. We approached the usually bustling San Marco Square to find the place deserted, its beauty highlighted by the contrast from the floodlights.
David held my hand as we rushed through the square. We slowed once we reached the labyrinth of deeply shadowed alleyways, the darkness broken by the occasional streetlight or lit display window. I expected to see, or hear on the way, at least some indication of life in Venice besides ourselves. But we sensed nothing, not the tinkling of glasses in a distant bar, or even one of the numerous Venetian cats on its nightly mouse hunt. David and I were on Earth, strolling hand in hand, unimpeded by judging eyes, painful words, or the violence of fanatical hatred. It was a surreal experience for me like Venice existed that night solely for us.
"I'm just walking," he whispered. "I trust you would tell me if I headed the wrong way."
"You're doing fine." Our whispers carried through the silence bouncing off the stone surrounding us with a light echo.
I could tell David felt pensive and unsure about the meeting, but he trusted me; I honestly hadn't seen a problem.
"I would relax him," I thought to myself.
On the other side of the Rialto Bridge, near a church, the city had its fish market. It had quite a few dark places there, easy to hide in. I dragged David to one of those, and I kissed him.
"What are we doing?"
"Taking advantage of the late hour and the extra 15 minutes I gave us to get there." I unbuttoned his pants and pulled out my favorite piece of playground equipment. It hadn't taken long for him to get an erection again. I sucked his cock in the quiet calm of the columned shelter, almost spitting distance from the Grand Canal. He put his hands on my head and let me service him in the ancient city of Venice in the early hours of the morning. I tried not to wet his trousers and give him a clean blowjob. The head filled the front of my mouth, and unlike before he had it enlarged two inches, it could fit down into my throat. I repeatedly tapped my lips onto the base, using the back of my tongue to please him. We only had time for a few minutes of pleasure, but it meant the world to me, and I know he enjoyed it. He came into my mouth as quietly as he could manage, and I swallowed his cum as the most delicious thing I had ever tasted. I cleaned him up and tucked his dick into his pants. I stood up and kissed him while I buttoned his fly.
"I love you," he said.
"I want to give you every reason to." I grabbed his hand and got us back on the path.
When we finally crossed the Scalzi bridge, we turned to the right, and David spoke. "The ghetto's a name that doesn't sound promising," he whispered. "What is this place? It's not where the toughs live, is it?"
"This Ghetto is the first ghetto. Centuries ago, the Catholics allowed the Jews to live nowhere else in Venice before Napoleon came. It's an island that has three bridges to the rest of Venice that had gates used to keep them all in at night after curfew."
He gasped. "That's terrible."
"When Napoleon conquered Venice, he removed the gates, lifted the curfew, and told them they could live wherever they wanted. Overall, he treated the Jews in Europe as equals to everyone else."
"What did the gentile community think of that?"
"His emancipation of the Jews in Europe angered a lot of Christians."
"Of course, it did," he whispered. "Have we much farther to go?"
"Not much farther, we have to take the long route. I get lost when I go any route but the one that I know. The iron bridge is just ahead."
Venice had only one city square, San Marco's Square. Many others existed in the city that one might refer to as a square, but those smaller, cobblestone-covered "squares," once consisted of empty spaces with dirt and no cobblestone. In Venice, they referred to them as a "campo", which meant "field". The ghetto consisted of a large campo surrounded by buildings that demarcated the edge of the island.
When we arrived at the black iron bridge, a blown bulb left it in shadow, and we couldn't see much. We tread across to the campo, and to the far right, near the memorial, lit by a nearby streetlamp, sat a figure. As we approached, it rose from the bench and walked directly beneath the streetlight attached to the wall. We could then see one another's faces. The man put his hand beneath David's chin, tipping it back to illuminate it further.
"Yes," the man said, "yes, you look so like your father." He snatched his hand away. "I'm sorry, please forgive me. I haven't even introduced myself. I am Rabbi Eamon Mayer, and your parents were two of my best friends. Of course, you don't have to believe me, and I wouldn't blame you if you didn't, but it's true."
I introduced us appropriately, and we shook his hand. The Rabbi had an accent from the New York region of the Jewish community. Despite the shadows, he seemed maybe sixty-five years old, wore a dark coat and a kippah.
"I have a lot to tell you," he said, "but I have sat here for the last ten minutes with all my body heat draining into that half-frozen bench. May we please go back to my warm hotel room? It's nearby and has a comfortable seating area to talk."
David, who hadn't spoken a word, looked at me. I just shrugged.
"I have some nice hot English tea and two cups with your names on them. How does that sound?"
The Rabbi had merely attempted to entice us most blatantly. I laughed, but David didn't. I hadn't realized how stressed he would feel meeting someone connected to his birth parents. He rarely mentioned them, and he looked as if he didn't know what to do with himself.
"David," I said, putting my hand on his shoulder --he jerked his head in my direction-- "Take a deep breath and relax. It's okay." Then to the Rabbi, "some tea sounds lovely, thank you."
We followed the Rabbi to the Albergo del Ghetto, and in only a few minutes, we sat inside his room on the couch while he made tea.
"We have questions," I said.
"Oh, I know! I knew you would. Let me take a guess, and I'll do so by providing the answers outright. I'll start with the most obvious. Three o'clock in the morning, because I flew in from New York this afternoon when I learned you were coming to Venice, and unfortunately, I have both jet lag and insomnia if you can wrap your mind around that one." He smiled at us. "Also, I have heard the recording of you two that a friend brought to me. So, I know my minor six-hour jet lag is nothing compared to having your days shortened from twenty-nine and a half hours to twenty-four. Couple that with everything happening in your lives right now, and your sleeping pattern must be all over the place. Am I right?"
"It's true, we're sleeping when we can," I said, "and the portal lag is terrible."
"Portal lag." He laughed, shaking his head. "Okay, carrying on here."
"On Shabbat?" I asked.
"Ah, yes, today is Shabbat, but that's between G-d and me, however, and not you, so don't worry about that."
"You knew my parents?" David finally spoke, getting to the heart of his curiosity.
The Rabbi's face dropped the smile. "Hmm, past tense. That saddens me. I figured they were dead, but it's never good to have confirmation of the passing of friends. Yes, I knew your parents. When did they die?"
"Not long after they arrived on Jiyu," David said. "They arrived too old, horribly out of condition, and too ill to make the transition. That happened sometimes. We would have told them of the dangers. I can't imagine why they took the chance."
"Your parents loved you. They wanted you to have a better life than you would have here," the Rabbi said. "If I remember correctly, sixteen years have passed for me, but far more for you. I'm sorry." He gave us our tea and sat in the chair opposite us. "I must assume they took care of you, did the people there treat you well?"
"Yes, they did. I have only a few vague memories of my birth parents. How did you know them?"
He went to his suitcase to retrieve several photos and handed them to David. "We grew up together in New York. That's me to the left there with your parents. I don't know if you ever saw what they looked like."
"Yes, I still have the things they brought with them to Jiyu. They had a photo album," David said. He looked at me. "This is them. They didn't have a photo of him older, but I saw this young man in several of the photos in the album." David found a closer photograph of the young man and held it up to compare the face with that of the Rabbi. "What do you think, Rick?"
Though the photo was black and white, the eyes, nose, and lips had the unmistakable appearance of the Rabbi as a young man.
"I had known them from our time in Hebrew school. They ended up falling in love later, and they got married. Your mother had a job opportunity, so they moved to London, where they had you. One day they invited me to their home there. They said they were going away to a place called Jiyu. I didn't believe them at the time. So, they said that one of them would return in a year with evidence to prove it to me, but they never returned. They just vanished with you. Someone notified the police of their disappearance, but they left a note at their home with an emphatic declaration of their safety. They wrote that they left of their own accord and that they would eventually return one day. With no evidence of foul play, the police dropped it."
"What information did you say we would want to know?" I asked.
"Ah, yes," he said. "As a Rabbi, I have lots of friends. I know and hear things. I have Jewish friends in the American government that thankfully have more loyalty to the likes of David and me as Jews than to the people they work for. They know that I knew your parents, and they asked me to come. I had a lot of ambivalence about it, but they gave me an audio file, and when I saw your face in a still from a video, I recognized your father in you. I listened to the audio of a conversation you two had with a woman named Maggie on the flight over, so I know about the time- What did you call it? The differential. When I saw you sixteen years ago, you wore diapers, and now you're what, forty? I can't deny it, though; you are your father's son. You look so like him. I had to meet you in person. They told me where to find you, and they gave me a message to give to you. They're following you. The Americans know where you're going."
I glanced at David. "Did they know who is following us?" I asked the Rabbi.
"Unfortunately, no, but they told me that the American government planned to work with the British, and eventually take control of the portal near London. Now that they know you believe one exists in Japan, they sent someone to follow you and stop you before you can exit this world. They want you to have no option but to return to London if you want to go home."
"Why don't they want to control both portals?" David asked.
"They didn't say."
"They may have seen the portal in Japan as a liability," I said. "It's too close to China and North Korea.
"Did they say how they would stop us?" David asked.
"No," said the Rabbi. "I suspect they didn't know anything else, but keep in mind the Americans have troops on military installations in Japan right now."
"That's true," I said to David. "It's probably a hornet's nest of activity. It's frightening, what they may have waiting for us."
We didn't know what to do. Assimilating the latest information would take our ever-growing suspicions and increase them several orders of magnitude. We left at about half-past four. We thanked the Rabbi for the help, and David hugged him before we left.