| Phase 3 The door opened and I glanced that way to see who it was. � Fei!� I ran over and hugged him. � You made it back! Are you okay?� He nodded. I noticed Sig�s slightly horrified face out of the corner of my eye. I turned to him. � What the matter, Sig?� � I�m never going to be able to tell you two apart!� � Sure you will. I�m the short, feminine one.� � That�s not what I mean! I can tell you apart now, but if you were to dress the same and fix your hair the same and approach me separately I�d just call you both Kris!� � Are you saying I sound like a girl?� Fei asked indignantly. � No, but I have a habit of listening with half an ear. I hear the words, but not the tone or volume. My aim is that I don�t want to mix you up and offend one of you.� He looked at me helplessly. � This is going to be like the time you dyed your hair blond and traded places with Bartholomew for a week, isn�t it?� I smiled, taking an unholy amount of glee in the fact that it still brought him such turmoil after so long a time. � Well this time it won�t be on purpose. But I don�t think you�ll mix us up. You know how I always mess around with stuff up here when I talk to you.� This was really bothering him. � . . . I hope you�re right.� The door opened behind me. � Cool! Fei has a midget twin!� I whipped around to meet with the blond�s evil grin. � Bart!� I lunged for him and closed my arms around his neck. � Hi, babe.� He held me at arm�s length and looked me over. � You look spectacular.� I pretended to sniffle and heard Sig groan and knew he was rolling his eyes at what he knew I was going to say. � Sig said I was heavy.� Bart played along and cooed. � Oh, what does he know?� Then he surprised me by picking me up as you would a child and settling me so I was straddling his right hip. � See? You aren�t heavy.� I giggled. He had changed a lot since I'd been gone, but his personality hadn�t altered one little bit. I hugged him from the side. � I knew you�d tell me the truth.� Sig groaned again. � Oh brother . . .� � Hey,� Bart put in, offended. � I�m not a liar.� � If it�ll get you out of trouble you are!� Bart snorted. � That was when I was a kid.� He looked at me. � Kris, I hate to do this to you---� � No you don�t,� Sig muttered. � ---but you owe me fifty G,� Bart continued, as if Sig hadn�t even spoken. � Yeah, I know.� He set me down and I dug around in my pocket. � Here.� � You know, Kris, I bet---� Sig turned. � No more betting. Luckily, Young Master, you won. But when you lose it turns into a knockout match. I don�t feel like breaking up another one of those . . .� � At least we didn�t use the Gears.� � Yes. You�d be dead, I�m sure.� � What, you think I couldn�t�ve handled it?� � No. I think Kris would�ve been so much more experienced that she would probably have KO�d you before you could blink or fumble for the correct controls to attack. She knows more than you in that area, Young Master.� Franz turned, glanced at Bart and Sig, then, realizing that getting their attention was now next to impossible, motioned me over. � Oh, so now I�m �inexperienced� with my own Gear, is that it?� Bart asked hotly as I jumped the railing and landed by Franz�s station. � What�s up?� I inquired, placing my left hand on the back of his chair and my right on the edge of the consol as I leaned over the panel to check the instruments. � You were then,� Sig answered calmly. � Picked up Aveh on radar, sir,� Franz reported. � What about now?� Bart challenged. � All right. Thank you.� I stood and walked around the lower bridge, giving out orders. Fei decided to join me as I began. � Maintain steady course, keep at least ninety-nine kelts between us.� � I still think you�d be dead because of fire-power and experience.� � Will they ever stop?� my brother asked. I shrugged. � Yeah. More likely than not, Bart will back down to something logical Sig told him that he can�t respond to. Or, I could do this.� I watched the two argue a moment. � Hey! If either of you care, we�re approaching Aveh!� They stopped and stared at me. � Oh?� � Yeah, so I suggest getting with the program and paying attention.� Both started giving orders at the same time. � Look, I have it all under control, guys. Sig, go get some rest. Bart, can you handle the ship?� � Of course!� � Good. Go get some more rest.� � But---� they protested together. � Quiet,� I ordered. � Sig, you�ve been up too long. You need some sleep. Bart, you should know by now that you can�t lie to me. You need a few more hours of calm recovery. I can handle the ship�s command until then.� Bart wasn�t going down without a fight. � What about Fei?� � What about him?� He leaned over the railing. � He should be resting also.� I crossed my arms. � Fei is not involved in the ship�s control. He can rest where he likes as long as he doesn�t fight.� � Then why can�t I rest here?� � Because you�ll attempt to take command or contradict my every order, like you are now, and end up all worked up.� � Whoa, whoa. Put this conversation in reverse. You are ordering me to get some rest?� Bart asked incredulously. � Yes. I�m declaring both you and Sig unfit for duty for the next two hours.� � What?!� he turned on Sig. � Can she do that?!� Sig nodded tiredly. � She can, if another crew member of high rank agrees, which I do.� Bart growled. � Not fair.� � Bart,� I sighed. � It�s only two hours. Go to your room and relax. Then you can come back and have the ship again. Don�t worry, I won�t dent her.� � Oh . . . fine!� Bart stormed out. Sig looked at me. � I will be in my room, probably sleeping, if you need me.� � All right, Sig. Stop procrastinating.� He went to the door, then spun around. � Not a dent?� � Promise. Now go.� Sig left and I was in complete control of the Yggdrasil for two hours. I spent most of the time describing the layout of the ship to Fei and answering his questions. � Do you know what happened to Bart and Sigurd?� � What do you mean?� � Their eyes. What�s up with that?� � Oh, that.� I snorted and rolled my eyes. � When Bart was a kid, he wanted to be a real pirate and all pirates had a patch over one eye so he decided to mimic that. He tried to get Maison and Sig to do it. Maison just wouldn�t and Sig did because Bart asked nicely and he thought it was a cute idea.� I shook my head. � But don�t worry. They still have both eyes and they switch eyes every week to keep one from getting lazy.� � Isn�t Bart old enough to not care anymore?� I shrugged. � He started it when he was eight; probably just grew into it. And Sig probably forgot about it, knowing him. I don�t think it�s occurred to him that he doesn�t have to do it anymore. It�s just too ingrained in his daily routine.� � Is he absent-minded or something?� � Who, Sig? Nah. He�s just one of those people that automatically multi-tasks if something happens. You can talk to him while he�s writing the checks and he�ll carry on an actual conversation with you. I guess it does make him absent-minded in a way, but it�s not a bad absent-mindedness . . . like he�d forget people�s names or forget to sleep.� Fei nodded once. � And how do you know all this again?� I shrugged once more. � I lived here for four years. Those were some of the best days of my life. One of the few places that I can call home; where I know I�ll always be welcome.� I glanced at my watch. � Fifteen after . . . Hm . . . I thought Bart would be jumping at the chance to be back here.� � Think something happened to him?� I sighed. � Fei, let me tell you something. Bart can get into trouble anytime, anywhere. Even if it�s his own ship. He could�ve been down in the Gear bay and fallen off the repair shelf or tripped down the stairs in the gunroom. With Bart, it�s whatever your imagination can come up with.� � He�s that bad?� � Worse. But then again, he may�ve taken my advice for once and be sleeping peacefully in his room. One can�t tell with him.� I got off the rail. � Jerico, you�re in command for now.� � Understood, sir.� I headed off the bridge and got in the elevator. � Kris? I�m kinda tired.� � You need a room?� � No, I have one. I just don�t know where it is. It�s a miracle I got to the bridge when I woke up.� � Do you remember the hall and door number?� � Yeah. Sixth hall and the room�s forty-two.� � Oh. Then you�re on the third floor.� I showed him his room and made sure he was settled and knew how to get back to the bridge. Leaving, I went down another floor and tip-toed into the second room. The occupant�s boots were beside the bed and the clothes were neatly folded and piled next to the boots. An eyepatch laid on top of the clothes. I went around to the far side of the bed and knelt down. He was fast asleep, as I�d hoped. I could tell earlier by the way he was carrying himself that he was exhausted but didn�t want anyone to know. I pushed the hair out of his face to keep it from tickling his nose and waking him and watched him sleep for a while. A lot of people don�t like being watched (including myself) and most of them prefer to not watch other people for that reason. I, however, enjoy people-watching. I can sit and watch someone sleep for hours. It�s how I can read others so well. And it also helps me bond with some of the people I watch. Don�t ask how; it just does. I realized I�d fallen into my watching trance again when I refocused and noticed that his nose was wrinkling in a vain attempt to make the hair that had fallen in his face go away. I moved it for him and tucked it behind his ear, then very softly outlined his face with the tip of my finger. He always let me do that when I was little, even if he was working. He�d just stop and close his eyes and let me trace his features and draw invisible pictures on his cheeks. And when he was sure I was done he�d go right back to work as if he�d never stopped. I smiled at the memories, then remembered my main objective and got up. I kissed his forehead, pulled the sheet and comforter up over his shoulder and left, going to the next room down and entering that. This room�s occupant had just dropped his boots on the floor and let his jacket and eyepatch fall with them. Typical. I had to go to the far side of his bed too and kneel down to see his face. He was snuggled deep into the comforter, his face nearly obscured by the fluffy coverlet. I pressed my fingers into the blanket to reveal his face and smiled again, glad that he�d listened to me and realized I was right. I knew he�d be angry if I didn�t wake him, so I decided to try once and if he didn�t wake up, then I couldn�t be held responsible for his weariness. � Bart,� I whispered. � The two hours are up.� He stretched downward like a cat and opened his eyes slowly. � Huh?� was the response. � The two hours are up,� I repeated in the same whisper, knowing how sensitive he was to loud noise after he�d just awakened. � You look tired still. Want me to keep going for another few hours?� I could see that he wanted to take me up on the offer, but responsibility put its foot down hard and he sat up. � No, I�ll get up. Thanks anyway.� � Bart,� I protested, knowing he�d get upset but unable to help it, � if you�re tired, sleep. I�ve only been awake three hours. I�ll be fine for a long while to come. Just tell me.� He shook his head. � No, it�s okay.� He�s not fighting? He really is tired. � Bart, please . . .� He looked at me wearily--� Have fun.�--and flopped back down on his bed. I stroked his forehead until I knew he was asleep, then returned to the bridge. <--Phase 2 Phase 4--> |