Post by thomas on Nov 3, 2009 12:51:01 GMT -5
After cruising into Africa, Federation mechanics had initially refused to work on the Blue Destiny, in case it went off on them, and it took an officer coming down to the dock threatening court martial to get them back to work. They were not, however, pleased about it--there was no question in their minds that the machine was, on some level, fundamentally evil. Despite their extensive technical backgrounds, which taught them to value the empirical, the logical, the rational above all else, the Blue Destiny's outburst didn't square with the Enlightenment world view and so, like so many peoples before them, they fell back on an older, more intuitive approach.
To his credit, Thorvald Siggurdson never advanced beyond that older approach. He was prepared to offer his theory as to why the machine had gone out of control and to defend himself but, much to his surprise, his commanders simply commended him for being able to shut down the reactor before any of theirs got hurt too badly. It is probably for the best that Thorvald never got a chance to put forth his theory to his commanders, since his theory went something like this: The Blue Destiny is invested with at least one, possibly several, faeries. Or possibly elves. Thorvald hadn't decided yet.
In Orkney, whenever a tractor had turned over or a car failed to start or a fishing boat went down in a storm, the tendency was to blame the "Hidden People" as much as, say, an ancient transmission or gale force winds. Likewise, Thorvald had witnessed a certain odd reverence in Iceland for the huldufolk, which suggested to him a certain ubiquity of ambiguous semi-supernatural creatures. When he explained this to the mechanics, even they found it strange--they were willing to believe that the Federation had somehow programmed the Blue Destiny to be evil but the days of blaming technical failures on gremlins were long behind them.
The night after the attack, when Thorvald strode into the repair bay with a bag under his arm, a team of mechanics met him at the door.
"Thor, you might want to stay away from it for now until we figure out why it freaked out."
"No, no, lads, I've got it under control," Thorvald said, placing his hand on one of their shoulders and gently pressing them to the side. He marched up to the kneeling, silent mobile suit.
"Hi there!" he called out. The Blue Destiny did not respond.
"So, that was a hell of a fight this morning. What was that all about?" Silence.
"Aw, I understand something's wrong. You don't want to talk about it?"
No response. At this point, it became clear that Thorvald's conversation with the faerie(s) inside the Blue Destiny would be a monologue.
"Well, listen, I brought you something--" He took a bottle of scotch and a smoked herring out of the bag. "--I tell you, it was a hell of a time trying to find Talisker and herring in this neck of the woods but low and behold, lass, here we are! Now, er, how do I get this to you?"
The Blue Destiny didn't offer any suggestions.
"I could just leave it here and you could eat it at your leisure... But..." He squinted at the Blue Destiny's head. "Y'don't really have a mouth, do you? I know--I'll put it in the cockpit! How does that sound?"
The mobile suit was silent.
"Cockpit it is!"
Thorvald left the fish and whisky in the cockpit, having assured the Blue Destiny that he would return in an hour or two to talk. The mechanics again met him as he was about to leave.
"Thorvald, you can't believe this," they said.
"Lads, lads, listen--whenever I'd be riding about on me bike, and it'd start making a no good noise, what did I do? I get a fish or some mutton, put it on the seat, and have me a nap. When I woke up, the tuck'd be gone and me bike'd be fine."
"Animals probably ate the food!"
"Well, if they did, they fixed me bike too! I don't like to mess with what works, lads." With this, Thorvald strode out of the repair bay to get a drink for himself.
Two hours later and three scotches later, Thorvald climbed back into the cockpit, which now reeked of fish.
"Maybe you don't like fish? Are y'trying to keep your girlish figure?" asked Thorvald as he settled into the cockpit and begin to eat the herring and drink the whisky. "Well, lass, my opinion don't count for much but for what it do count for, y've got a bonnie, bonnie figure. Ye're a bonnie faery lass, you are--maybe you could come down out of my mobile suit and put some clothes on and I'll take ye out to tea. Would you like that? I clean up real well, you know. I look absolutely dashing in me dress uniform, or I did the one time I wore it. You look a bit young for me but I know ye faeries and elves are hundreds and thousands of years old so it evens out, don't it?"
There was still no response. Thorvald sighed.
"Now, listen, a fella' buys you dinner and a drink and the very least you can do it talk to him, right? I just want to know what's bothering you--and what's all this killing business? "Kill me"? Who are you? I dun' even know ye! I don't want to kill ye'! I want to get to know you!"
A chill went up Thorvald's spine when he said the words "kill me" but that was it.
"Lass, listen. You've got to meet me halfway here. I'm happy to talk and listen and we kin work somefing out but I need yer input! If we're going to open up a dialogue, then you need to talk to! I don't want to hurt you, lass. I want to help you. Really, I do. I'm a simple man. I don't have half the mind for deceit or lying. All's I can really do is say and do what I feel."
With this, Thorvald heaved another sigh and finished.
"Right, lass. The cockpit's starting to spin a wee bit so I'm gonna lie meself down. I'll be ready when you want to talk. And," he said as he left the cockpit. "My offer for the date still stands."
As the dejected Icelandic Scot climbed down the ladder from the cockpit, he could have sworn he heard a girlish giggle.
To his credit, Thorvald Siggurdson never advanced beyond that older approach. He was prepared to offer his theory as to why the machine had gone out of control and to defend himself but, much to his surprise, his commanders simply commended him for being able to shut down the reactor before any of theirs got hurt too badly. It is probably for the best that Thorvald never got a chance to put forth his theory to his commanders, since his theory went something like this: The Blue Destiny is invested with at least one, possibly several, faeries. Or possibly elves. Thorvald hadn't decided yet.
In Orkney, whenever a tractor had turned over or a car failed to start or a fishing boat went down in a storm, the tendency was to blame the "Hidden People" as much as, say, an ancient transmission or gale force winds. Likewise, Thorvald had witnessed a certain odd reverence in Iceland for the huldufolk, which suggested to him a certain ubiquity of ambiguous semi-supernatural creatures. When he explained this to the mechanics, even they found it strange--they were willing to believe that the Federation had somehow programmed the Blue Destiny to be evil but the days of blaming technical failures on gremlins were long behind them.
The night after the attack, when Thorvald strode into the repair bay with a bag under his arm, a team of mechanics met him at the door.
"Thor, you might want to stay away from it for now until we figure out why it freaked out."
"No, no, lads, I've got it under control," Thorvald said, placing his hand on one of their shoulders and gently pressing them to the side. He marched up to the kneeling, silent mobile suit.
"Hi there!" he called out. The Blue Destiny did not respond.
"So, that was a hell of a fight this morning. What was that all about?" Silence.
"Aw, I understand something's wrong. You don't want to talk about it?"
No response. At this point, it became clear that Thorvald's conversation with the faerie(s) inside the Blue Destiny would be a monologue.
"Well, listen, I brought you something--" He took a bottle of scotch and a smoked herring out of the bag. "--I tell you, it was a hell of a time trying to find Talisker and herring in this neck of the woods but low and behold, lass, here we are! Now, er, how do I get this to you?"
The Blue Destiny didn't offer any suggestions.
"I could just leave it here and you could eat it at your leisure... But..." He squinted at the Blue Destiny's head. "Y'don't really have a mouth, do you? I know--I'll put it in the cockpit! How does that sound?"
The mobile suit was silent.
"Cockpit it is!"
Thorvald left the fish and whisky in the cockpit, having assured the Blue Destiny that he would return in an hour or two to talk. The mechanics again met him as he was about to leave.
"Thorvald, you can't believe this," they said.
"Lads, lads, listen--whenever I'd be riding about on me bike, and it'd start making a no good noise, what did I do? I get a fish or some mutton, put it on the seat, and have me a nap. When I woke up, the tuck'd be gone and me bike'd be fine."
"Animals probably ate the food!"
"Well, if they did, they fixed me bike too! I don't like to mess with what works, lads." With this, Thorvald strode out of the repair bay to get a drink for himself.
Two hours later and three scotches later, Thorvald climbed back into the cockpit, which now reeked of fish.
"Maybe you don't like fish? Are y'trying to keep your girlish figure?" asked Thorvald as he settled into the cockpit and begin to eat the herring and drink the whisky. "Well, lass, my opinion don't count for much but for what it do count for, y've got a bonnie, bonnie figure. Ye're a bonnie faery lass, you are--maybe you could come down out of my mobile suit and put some clothes on and I'll take ye out to tea. Would you like that? I clean up real well, you know. I look absolutely dashing in me dress uniform, or I did the one time I wore it. You look a bit young for me but I know ye faeries and elves are hundreds and thousands of years old so it evens out, don't it?"
There was still no response. Thorvald sighed.
"Now, listen, a fella' buys you dinner and a drink and the very least you can do it talk to him, right? I just want to know what's bothering you--and what's all this killing business? "Kill me"? Who are you? I dun' even know ye! I don't want to kill ye'! I want to get to know you!"
A chill went up Thorvald's spine when he said the words "kill me" but that was it.
"Lass, listen. You've got to meet me halfway here. I'm happy to talk and listen and we kin work somefing out but I need yer input! If we're going to open up a dialogue, then you need to talk to! I don't want to hurt you, lass. I want to help you. Really, I do. I'm a simple man. I don't have half the mind for deceit or lying. All's I can really do is say and do what I feel."
With this, Thorvald heaved another sigh and finished.
"Right, lass. The cockpit's starting to spin a wee bit so I'm gonna lie meself down. I'll be ready when you want to talk. And," he said as he left the cockpit. "My offer for the date still stands."
As the dejected Icelandic Scot climbed down the ladder from the cockpit, he could have sworn he heard a girlish giggle.