Leaving Malta to escape the heat is definitely part of it. I think I want to leave Malta permanently though; it's been long enough there and I never much liked the place before I started living there. Learning more about it hasn't endeared it to me, sadly. Whether I stay in the UK or not is another matter; I have no trouble living in other places and I would have no problems with somewhere like Germany, and maybe staying long enough to acquire citizenship (if Malta offered that to me I'd reject it, for the record :) ).
Now, a late arrival, huh? Your third child is finally on the way? ;-)
A late arrival "We'll have to tell Rystin, too," said Fabian after the plates arrived. The conversation hadn't drifted far from the Halls of Sunset, but it still moved it back to a point that they both thought they'd passed. Dread paused from skewering lengths of pasta on the tines of his fork and thought for a few seconds. Then a few seconds more. "He's an elf," he said at last. He poked the fork in his mouth and pulled the pasta off. It was too tender to need to chew. "It might be better just to tell him some of this. Just that we've found someone who can help." "Well," said Fabian, who thought this was a bad idea, but Dread held a hand up to stop him. "There's going to be enough of an issue with getting Sebastian to help," he said. "If Rystin thinks we're coercing him, he might feel we're being... Imperialistic for want of a better word." "Well," said Fabian, determined to speak, but Dread's hand stopped him again. "And I definitely don't want him getting elvish sympathies and trying to release Sebastian from whatever agreement we reach because he feels that the wisp-elf thing is more important." "I see," said Fabian, whose arguments had now all been addressed. He poked a nicely-cooked summer vegetable angrily. "Do you really think he would?" "He wasn't happy with the exhibits in the Halls of Sunset," said Dread. "I mean, I kind of get where he's coming from, and there's a lot of Imperial history that's nothing to be proud of. But there's the other side too: some of those things would be destroyed or damaged beyond repair if they weren't there. They've been preserved, albeit for the wrong reasons." "The problem," said Fabian, who was now back on very familiar ground, "is that they're staying in the Halls of Sunset though. At least, in the eyes of the people who used to own them. If they were taken for preservation then they should be given back when the situation improves." "Do you believe that?" Dread's plate was nearly empty and he was looking at Fabian over his last forkful of pasta. Fabian shrugged. "Yes," he said. "But I would like proof that they'll be looked after properly if they're returned, and that can be hard to get and hard to provide. And I don't set the rules on what 'properly' looks like; that's down to diplomats and governments. So it gets political until it seems like we're arguing that such-and-such a museum doesn't have the right kind of burglar alarm." Dread laughed. "Which only the Empire can provide, but unfortunately the technology for it is forbidden to be sold or exported?" Fabian rolled his eyes. "I've seen that happen at least once," he said. "Maybe not that exactly, but close enough." The waiter approached their table with someone in tow, and Fabian's eyes widened as he realised that it was Rystin. "A late arrival," said Dread with a grin, "but a welcome one nevertheless!"
2 comments:
Leaving Malta to escape the heat is definitely part of it. I think I want to leave Malta permanently though; it's been long enough there and I never much liked the place before I started living there. Learning more about it hasn't endeared it to me, sadly. Whether I stay in the UK or not is another matter; I have no trouble living in other places and I would have no problems with somewhere like Germany, and maybe staying long enough to acquire citizenship (if Malta offered that to me I'd reject it, for the record :) ).
Now, a late arrival, huh? Your third child is finally on the way? ;-)
A late arrival
"We'll have to tell Rystin, too," said Fabian after the plates arrived. The conversation hadn't drifted far from the Halls of Sunset, but it still moved it back to a point that they both thought they'd passed. Dread paused from skewering lengths of pasta on the tines of his fork and thought for a few seconds. Then a few seconds more.
"He's an elf," he said at last. He poked the fork in his mouth and pulled the pasta off. It was too tender to need to chew. "It might be better just to tell him some of this. Just that we've found someone who can help."
"Well," said Fabian, who thought this was a bad idea, but Dread held a hand up to stop him.
"There's going to be enough of an issue with getting Sebastian to help," he said. "If Rystin thinks we're coercing him, he might feel we're being... Imperialistic for want of a better word."
"Well," said Fabian, determined to speak, but Dread's hand stopped him again.
"And I definitely don't want him getting elvish sympathies and trying to release Sebastian from whatever agreement we reach because he feels that the wisp-elf thing is more important."
"I see," said Fabian, whose arguments had now all been addressed. He poked a nicely-cooked summer vegetable angrily. "Do you really think he would?"
"He wasn't happy with the exhibits in the Halls of Sunset," said Dread. "I mean, I kind of get where he's coming from, and there's a lot of Imperial history that's nothing to be proud of. But there's the other side too: some of those things would be destroyed or damaged beyond repair if they weren't there. They've been preserved, albeit for the wrong reasons."
"The problem," said Fabian, who was now back on very familiar ground, "is that they're staying in the Halls of Sunset though. At least, in the eyes of the people who used to own them. If they were taken for preservation then they should be given back when the situation improves."
"Do you believe that?" Dread's plate was nearly empty and he was looking at Fabian over his last forkful of pasta.
Fabian shrugged. "Yes," he said. "But I would like proof that they'll be looked after properly if they're returned, and that can be hard to get and hard to provide. And I don't set the rules on what 'properly' looks like; that's down to diplomats and governments. So it gets political until it seems like we're arguing that such-and-such a museum doesn't have the right kind of burglar alarm."
Dread laughed. "Which only the Empire can provide, but unfortunately the technology for it is forbidden to be sold or exported?"
Fabian rolled his eyes. "I've seen that happen at least once," he said. "Maybe not that exactly, but close enough."
The waiter approached their table with someone in tow, and Fabian's eyes widened as he realised that it was Rystin.
"A late arrival," said Dread with a grin, "but a welcome one nevertheless!"
Greg - hey, Canada is always an option!
Also: oh. my. God. no.
I do so enjoy the dialogue when these two are left to themselves. Rystin, of course, is a welcome addition though.
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