Game Theory 1.08

Synopsis:

This isn't panic, this is culture shock.

Story:

***

Someone is coming up from belowdecks. Footfalls on the steps inside the low door, then the door itself is pushed open. A man, tall and elegant, somehow even in that position, extricates himself from the cabin up into the cockpit. No, not a man, I correct myself. An elf, like me. Only, not like me. He has long fine white hair tucked in under a fur he’s wrapped around his shoulders, and a beautiful perfect face. It has the look about it of immeasurable age, and yet it is the face of a young man. His eyes are dark, and I realise suddenly they have no whites, but a too-large-seeming pupil and an iris of striking blue filling the entire visible eyeball.

He stares back at me, and I can see suddenly he’s afraid.

“Taniel,” he says softly.

I nod. “Kerilas,” I answer. It has to be.

He nods, but his eyes don’t leave me. “Paul,” he says, even more quietly, as if the sky might hear him.

“James,” I answer.

“What the hell is going on?” He’s just able to keep calm. I can see the struggle in his face. He’s on the edge of panic.

“I don’t know,” I whisper back. “I’ve been here for hours,” I point out, remembering that he will have only just woken up. “I thought I was dreaming but I’m not!” Now I’m saying it aloud, and hearing my own voice, at once familiar and completely different. It makes it all so much more real. Hearing the way my voice is shaking.

“It’s not a dream,” he echoes.

I think he’s really on the verge of panic. So I say, “Sit down. Don’t stand in the cockpit unless you’re doing something.”

He obeys, sitting across from me. He’s glad, it seems to me, that someone’s taking charge, even in such a small way as this. My advantage of a few hours is I can be calmer. He’s trying so hard not to panic.

“I was just suddenly here,” I say. “I thought I was dreaming, but it’s not stopping. It feels so real. Everything. Everything feels completely real. And… I know what I’m doing. I mean, I’ve been holding course all night.”

“Where to?”

In answer I look forward. He follows my gaze. The cliffs are high and jagged here; there’s no-where immediately evident where we can put in. “There, I guess. Wherever that is. The next island in the chain.” I remember from Ken’s description: We’re on the end of a chain of small volcanic islands called the Cat’s Tail that lead, if we follow them South-South-West for a few more days, into the heart of the Jeodin archipelago. “The point is, I knew how,” I say urgently. “I’ve never sailed a boat in my life, but I know how to do it.”

“How can this be happening?” he wants to know.

“I don’t know,” I say quickly. “I mean, I was awake, and I didn’t see anything… I don’t know, any kind of transition. No wavy lines or anything.”

He can chuckle at that. “Here, you must be cold,” he says suddenly, standing and removing the fur from his shoulders. I realise that I have been feeling cold. It crept up on me with the dawn, while I was lulled by the sea’s voice and the falcon’s company. He sits again, next to me, and wraps the fur around me, and I’m glad to let him do it, and ironically it’s now that I start shivering, and he keeps his arm around me. I can’t believe how safe that makes me feel. “You feeling better?”

I nod. I can hardly tell him that I feel wonderful.

“God, it must have been awful, being on your own all night. Why didn’t you wake someone?”

“I…” I’m a little lost for words. “I don’t know,” I admit after a while. “I didn’t know if anyone else… You know.”

“Yeah.”

“And I really thought it had to be a dream, for ages. I thought…” I run out of words again. It’s interesting, I think, that he’s immediately so protective of me, and how easily I let myself snuggle in the crook of his arm. It was as if that little exchange of body-language went on without either of us really thinking about it. Now I am thinking about it I get self-conscious, of course, and move to sit more upright.

Not without a little regret. It’s funny, I think, that he’d never have made these little gestures before… before I was in this female form.

“Yeah, sorry Paulie, I’m not sure what I was thinking there,” James says.

“It… It’s okay. Look, you’re going to get cold now.” It would be another hour or two before the sun had any real warmth in it, I reckon.

“Nah, I’m okay. Anyway, I’ll go and get another one if I get too cold. There’s loads of these furs down below.”

I nod, accepting it. “God, this is so weird.”

“‘Don’t panic,’” he says. “‘Don’t panic.’” He’s quoting Arthur Dent, of course.

“‘This isn’t panic, this is culture shock,’” I quote back. “‘You wait ’til I’ve settled in and got my bearings a bit. Then I’ll start panicking!’”

It makes him laugh a little anyway. Something familiar, something shared. And it does help.

“You know, I have to say, you look quite pretty like that,” James says.

“Er…” I can’t help smiling. “Thanks. Oh, and so do you. I mean, handsome I guess.”

It’s his turn to smile a little shyly. “No, what I mean is… you’re a girl.”

“I, uh, I noticed,” I say, noncommittally.

“So, um, are you okay? I mean, I think if that happened to me I’d go crazy, I reckon.”

“Early days,” I say. “Right now I’m thinking more about the fact I’m not entirely human, you know? And neither are you.”

“Oh, God, yeah,” he says, almost absently raising a hand to his ear, exploring how it comes to a tip. I remember doing the same myself earlier. I think the points of his ears are more prominent though. “God…”

“So, what colour eyes have I got?” I ask suddenly, to distract him.

“Green,” he tells me.

“Of course they are.”

“They’ve got this funny… It’s like they’re too big? The pupil and iris is so big you can’t see the whites at all.”

“Yeah, you’re the same,” I say.

“Yeah? Wow. That’s so weird.

“Yeah, I know. Good night vision,” I add, remembering how bright the stars had seemed, and the bioluminescence of the sea.

“What c–”

“Blue,” I say. “A bit darker than yours are normally.”

“Yours are kind of chibi I have to say,” he adds. “Big and pretty and…” He trails off, suddenly shy.

I chuckle. “All ready for my big scene with the tentacled sea monster?”

“Oh, don’t,” he says, and falls silent.

“Yeah,” I say quietly. “Maybe that isn’t funny.” I start shivering again. He’s shivering too, I see. “Look, I’m not being funny or anything, but can you hold me again, like before?”

“Er, yeah, sure.”

“It… I think it helped a bit,” I say. He turned a bit and I lean against him again. Then I sit up and pass him some of the fur. “Look, it’s big enough. Wrap it round both of us.”

He obeys, and I snuggle in against his side under the fur. I was being selfish, but I suddenly see how it helps him too. It’s easier for him if he can feel he has someone to protect. It gives him something to do, someone to be strong for. His forearm rests across my belly. It feels indescribable, to feel so protected. I have a little flashback suddenly. I’m snuggling like this against my father, and it’s his arm lying passively but strong and protective over my tummy, and falling asleep like that, lulled by the rocking of the ship.

Notes:

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This story is 1435 words long.