Locked away "You went through his pockets?" I shook my head, wondering if I should have guessed that Kraulik would do that after he'd hinted I should. "Of course," he said. Was that a hint of pity on his face? "Chuckles was in a poor condition when he got knocked out by whatever happened downstairs. The most likely thing is that he wouldn't survive the night, and if I didn't check his pockets after we'd found all this strange stuff in his cabin, I would be an idiot. What if he's been found by now and his body thrown overboard? Where do we get a key from then?" "We break the door down," I said, frowning. "Who's going to stop us? Or complain?" "And what if what's behind that door doesn't need any more attention than it already has?" I opened my mouth, and then closed it again. This was a stupid argument that was getting us nowhere. I couldn't decide if I was annoyed that I'd not searched Chuckles myself or if I was annoyed that Kraulik had and was right to do so. I thought that through again. Perhaps I was annoyed that whatever way I looked at it, I was in the wrong. Kraulik was looking around the room. "Where's this locked door then?" I stood up and pulled on the curtain behind me, dragging it away from the door so he could see it. His eyes brightened and he pulled a key, still on a copper-coloured chain, from his pocket and went to the door. The key clicked and the door opened.
I'm not sure what I was expecting beyond it. Perhaps a secret room, but as I said already, you don't get such things on cruise ships. Maybe a radio set-up, or a computer so that there was actually some connection to the outside world. But instead there was a sign reading 'Employees Only' propped up against the wall, a small desk and a chair, an empty cash-box under the desk and some papers and two books on the desk. "Looks like Chuckles took that sign down to hide the door better," said Kraulik. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands, looking at it. "Huh, boring." "This is like an office," I said, trying not to let my disappointment show. I made my voice sound as neutral as I could. Kraulik still glanced at me, as though uncertain what he was hearing. "Employees only," he said, holding the sign in my face. "What were you expecting, a leather-club?" That made me laugh. "Well," I said. "Given that you get a lot of old people on cruise ships, that would be... fascinating. Let me leave it at that." Kraulik laughed as well as that idea. He walked to the desk, all of two steps. "Huh, this is Chuckles's handwriting," he said, pushing the papers around. Something plastic slipped free and clattered lightly on the floor. "Think he was using this as an office?" I picked up one of the books and looked at it. "Liber vivat Chthonis et submarinis" I said. "Latin, at least. I know a little... uh, the book of subterranean and submarine life, I think." I looked at the other one. It was written in what looked like the same language as the book Chuckles had been translating. "And this one's in that weird language again. Yeah, this is Chuckles's, definitely." "This is another deck plan," said Kraulik, pulling a piece of paper free. I bent and picked up the plastic: a white rectangle the size of a credit card. "Where the hell did he get these?" I peered over his shoulder. "That's the engine deck," I said. "Let's take it down there and see if we can find that secret engine you think is hidden there." Kraulik smiled. "Now there's an idea I can get behind!"
I don't know what I was expecting either, but this makes sense. Chuckles would want somewhere private where he could work without possibility of discovery or interruption. Whatever work he was doing, anyway.
2 comments:
Hmm, that's a useful prompt ;-)
Locked away
"You went through his pockets?" I shook my head, wondering if I should have guessed that Kraulik would do that after he'd hinted I should.
"Of course," he said. Was that a hint of pity on his face? "Chuckles was in a poor condition when he got knocked out by whatever happened downstairs. The most likely thing is that he wouldn't survive the night, and if I didn't check his pockets after we'd found all this strange stuff in his cabin, I would be an idiot. What if he's been found by now and his body thrown overboard? Where do we get a key from then?"
"We break the door down," I said, frowning. "Who's going to stop us? Or complain?"
"And what if what's behind that door doesn't need any more attention than it already has?"
I opened my mouth, and then closed it again. This was a stupid argument that was getting us nowhere. I couldn't decide if I was annoyed that I'd not searched Chuckles myself or if I was annoyed that Kraulik had and was right to do so. I thought that through again. Perhaps I was annoyed that whatever way I looked at it, I was in the wrong.
Kraulik was looking around the room. "Where's this locked door then?"
I stood up and pulled on the curtain behind me, dragging it away from the door so he could see it. His eyes brightened and he pulled a key, still on a copper-coloured chain, from his pocket and went to the door. The key clicked and the door opened.
I'm not sure what I was expecting beyond it. Perhaps a secret room, but as I said already, you don't get such things on cruise ships. Maybe a radio set-up, or a computer so that there was actually some connection to the outside world. But instead there was a sign reading 'Employees Only' propped up against the wall, a small desk and a chair, an empty cash-box under the desk and some papers and two books on the desk.
"Looks like Chuckles took that sign down to hide the door better," said Kraulik. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands, looking at it. "Huh, boring."
"This is like an office," I said, trying not to let my disappointment show. I made my voice sound as neutral as I could. Kraulik still glanced at me, as though uncertain what he was hearing.
"Employees only," he said, holding the sign in my face. "What were you expecting, a leather-club?"
That made me laugh. "Well," I said. "Given that you get a lot of old people on cruise ships, that would be... fascinating. Let me leave it at that."
Kraulik laughed as well as that idea. He walked to the desk, all of two steps. "Huh, this is Chuckles's handwriting," he said, pushing the papers around. Something plastic slipped free and clattered lightly on the floor. "Think he was using this as an office?"
I picked up one of the books and looked at it. "Liber vivat Chthonis et submarinis" I said. "Latin, at least. I know a little... uh, the book of subterranean and submarine life, I think." I looked at the other one. It was written in what looked like the same language as the book Chuckles had been translating. "And this one's in that weird language again. Yeah, this is Chuckles's, definitely."
"This is another deck plan," said Kraulik, pulling a piece of paper free. I bent and picked up the plastic: a white rectangle the size of a credit card. "Where the hell did he get these?"
I peered over his shoulder. "That's the engine deck," I said. "Let's take it down there and see if we can find that secret engine you think is hidden there."
Kraulik smiled. "Now there's an idea I can get behind!"
Greg - I try! Sometimes!
I don't know what I was expecting either, but this makes sense. Chuckles would want somewhere private where he could work without possibility of discovery or interruption. Whatever work he was doing, anyway.
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