Kyle Halcyon, only scion of Ulysses and Lydia Halcyon, boarded Starry Night at the Port of Stars, the last place on the continent before land gave way to ocean. While the gangway had been relatively steady, the ship itself was already being tossed by the early evening storm hovering just offshore.
"Good evening, Mr. Halcyon," Mrs. Riley said as Kyle stepped onto the rolling deck. She was a small woman of slender build, her brown hair cropped closely around the ears and her small silver-rimmed glasses balanced carefully on the top of her nose, which was just a little too large to be proportional to the rest of her face. Hazel eyes peered intently through the lenses.
"Ms. Riley?" Halcyon said as he tentatively held out his hand. She took it firmly in hers and gripped so hard his fingertips began to throb. A sealed-lip smile rolled across her mouth.
"Thera Riley, at your service," she said. "If you'll follow me, I'll take you straight to your cabin. The pilot is eager to get underway as quickly as possible. Starbuck!" A hatchway popped open from the deck, and a burley man in black climbed onto the deck. "Starbuck, take the gentleman's bags to the V.I.P. cabin."
"Yes'm," Starback said in a deep, phlegmatic voice. He effortlessly picked up both of Halcyon's leather bags and carried them through an open doorway.
"Doesn't waste any time, does he?" Halcyon said with a smile. "I like that in hired help." Ms. Riley extended a hand towards the doorway and bowed her head deferentially. He nodded his head and stepped into the corridor. Before following, Ms. Riley turned her head slowly and nodded carefully at two of the ship's crewmembers, members who had seemed to fade in from the rapidly approaching darkness. They returned the nod and began casting off lines and attachments, beginning with the gangway. The Starry Night was on its way to sea.
****
The V.I.P. cabin was as large as a small apartment. The room was painted in soft golden colors on all the walls, and the crown molding was gilt with gold leaf. The furniture, from the desks to the chairs to the couch to the wardrobes, was all framed with oak stained a deep brown. The crème-colored carpet sank deep and plush under the feet of Halcyon, and from the way his bags sat upon the mattress of the king-sized bed, he knew his sleep that night would be, at the very least, heavenly. Through the open door of the bathroom, he could just make out the Jacuzzi.
In the entire room, however, his favorite part was the exquisitely polished mirrored-ceiling. Looking up and smiling at himself, his mind wandered over any number of memories.
"I wonder," he said, "if women like Ms. Riley really are as opposite as they say they are after hours." He laughed heartily and then resumed unpacking his bags. As he was placing his socks in the top drawer, a soft chime rang once and then twice. At first confused, he suddenly realized it was a doorbell, and laughing to himself he went to answer it.
"Good evening, Mr. Halcyon," a man dressed in chef's outfit said. "I'm from the kitchen. I'm here to take your order for tonight's late supper."
"Really?" Halcyon said as he took the menu the chef was offering. "That's very considerate, Mr...."
"Hardtack, sir," the chef said with a wide smile. "Everyone calls me Hardtack."
"Doesn't sound like a compliment to me," Halcyon said with a certain degree of skepticism.
"Merely a term of affection, sir," the cook said as he continued smiling, unblinking. "Anything on the menu, sir, from lobster to grits is available, but if I may make a recommendation, the Chilean Sea Bass is particularly fine today." Halcyon grinned and handed the menu back.
"Sea bass it is!" Halcyon spoke in a voice too loud for the size of the room. "With it, I'll have steamed broccoli, and please keep in mind that I like my vegetables particularly soft. I'll also have the Soba noodles and lemon tartar sauce. I'm also quite fond of cornbread, so make sure to have several healthy portions available. For dessert, I'll have the Boston Cream Pie."
"Very eclectic selections, if I may say so, sir," Hardtack smiled as he wrote notes for himself on Starry Night stationery.
"Merely taking advantage of the apparently large number of things you've mastered."
"Thank you sir, and for your beverage, may I suggest..." Halcyon held up his hand.
"No wines. I've never been good at matching, and even when others do, I still can't tell the difference. I'll have iced tea and Godet and milk."
"Very good, sir," Hardtack said. "Dinner will be at 9PM in the Great Cabin. Mr. Starbuck will come for you then. I hope that you have a wonderful voyage, sir. From now on, my souse chef Christof will come for your orders. I just like to personally greet the passengers on the first night."
"Thank you, Hardtack." The vibration of the engines picked up noticeably, and a crystal glass in the bathroom began rattling. "What's that?"
"Nothing sir," Hardtack said. "That just means we've cleared the harbor, and the pilot's picking up speed. Good evening, sir." Hardtack bowed deferentially and then headed up the corridor. Halcyon closed the door and continued his unpacking.
"Luxury," he said with satisfaction as he placed expensive clothes and lurid sex toys onto the bed. "Now this is what a man like me deserves." Halcyon laughed smugly, and his thoughts turned to the lithe creature who'd greeted him when he boarded.
****
The room was dark, extremely dark, save for two sources of light. The first was the soft green glow of the digital displays on the stereo system. The second was a small blue nightlight near the door. Otherwise, the older gentleman was in the shadows.
"Wait a minute, baby," the song playing on the CD player said, "Stay with me awhile/Said you'd give me light/But you never told me about your fire." The man sat unblinking in his black suit and tie, watching the second marks tick by on the stereo, his hands digging harder and harder into the cushions of his chair. As certain words were said in the song, he would nearly tear up, and his bottom lip would quiver momentarily. But then, burying his hands in the cushion even farther, he would pull back his composure.
"Said Sara, you're the poet in my heart," the song continued. "Never change, and never stop." There was a knock on the door, and for several seconds the man's expression remained frozen. The knock came again, more urgently, and blinking finally, the man reached for a remote control and turned down the volume.
"Come in," he said in a hoarse voice. Ms. Riley opened the door, and as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she spotted his figure.
"Mr. Faites," she said softly. "Mr. Faites, I..." Her eyes began tearing up, and she turned quickly so that the old man would not see.
"There's nothing to be said, Ms. Riley," he muttered in a stronger yet still gravelly voice. "You have news?" Ms. Riley nodded.
"Hardtack says supper will be ready in five minutes," she said, fighting silently to regain her composure and walking further into the darkness of the cabin. "He did want me to double-check with you about your order since there is still time to fix it if the steward got it wrong. You wanted your steak rare?"
"Rare indeed," Faites said. "A cold center."
"I'm sorry," Ms. Riley said as she clasped her hands together and lowered her eyes. "It's just so unusual for you. Your steaks are usually cinders." Moving his hand slowly, Faites touched a button on his chair and turned up the lighting. Then, he locked his eyes on Riley, who raised her head and locked eyes with him.
"I have a taste for blood, Ms. Riley," he said deeply and darkly. Nodding silently and looking as if a ghost had walked across her grave, she turned and headed out the door.
"I'll see you at dinner," she said pulling the door closed behind her. Returning his attention to the stereo, he turned up the volume again.
"Drowning, in the sea of love/Where everyone would love to drown..."
****
The dining room of the ship, referred to as the Great Cabin, was small but luxurious with a well-polished mahogany table. The china, from a distance, appeared to be a simple bone white, but upon closer inspection a pale blue image of the constellation Orion could be seen shining in the middle of the plate. The silverware was equally understated, though as he picked a fork up in his hand, Halcyon noted that it was so perfectly balanced that he could easily keep it level on top of his pointer finger. He could just make out his reflection in the silver of the utensil.
Five other people sat at the table with him. Ms. Riley, still in the same outfit she had worn when she greeted him, sat directly across the table from Halcyon. Sitting next to her was a tallish gentleman. The top of his head was bald and shiny, but the hair on the side of his head was pure white, shockingly white. Even though he was certainly an older man, Halcyon suspected that the gentleman's hair had been that color for a long time indeed. The gentleman stared back at Halcyon through the lenses of his white-rimmed glasses. At the very end of the table, however, was a man to whom everyone else in the room deferred and seemed to regard with a certain level of awe.
As stewards moved quickly and deliberately through the Great Cabin, the man stood. He wasn't very tall, but he threw off an impressive aura. He was dressed in a black suit with a shirt so white that it seemed to shimmer in the lighting of the cabin. His blood-red tie threw everything else into even sharper relief. He was an older man, and his face was lined with fine-wrinkles like the first cracks in a plaster wall. A thin film of gray hair covered his oval-shaped head and frayed out slightly behind his somewhat large ears. But it was the eyes that truly bored into Halcyon. Black eyes. Deep black eyes. Eyes so black that it was virtually impossible to see the difference between the irises and the pupils.
"Good evening, gentlemen," Faites said to Halcyon and the older man. A steward placed two folders before the imposing man, and his thick fingers tapped upon their covers. Other stewards began placing food and beverages upon the table. "Welcome, my friends, to Orion Fantasy Cruises. I am your humble servant and the operator of this firm, Rudolpho Faites. Please, enjoy yourselves and the meals that Hardtack has prepared to your specifications."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Halcyon responded as he began sipping at his drink.
"Indeed, it is good to meet you at last, Mr. Faites," the balding man said. Halcyon, though he was not sure, thought he detected a hint of foreign accent in the man's voice though he couldn't quite place it. Faites opened the first folder.
"Mr. Halcyon," Faites said as he ran his finger over the information in the folder. He reached into his pocket and took out a pair of reading glasses. "Ah, you must have been surprised indeed when you received the letter from us. It says that this adventure has been given you as a gift."
"Yes," Halcyon replied, "imagine my surprise when I opened the letter from some company called Orion Fantasy Cruises. I nearly didn't come, you know, having never heard of this...venture...before. It's very difficult finding out anything about you."
"It is, isn't it?" Faites said deeply. "Have you recovered from your accident?" Halcyon, who had been smiling, suddenly blanched considerably.
"A-accident?" Halcyon asked. Ms. Riley eagerly swallowed an entire glass of water.
"Your broken leg," Faites said. "I trust it is healing well." Halcyon shifted his position in his seat.
"It is," he said. "How...how did you know I'd broken my leg?" Faites smiled widely. Halcyon wasn't sure he liked seeing the old man smile.
"I'm not clairvoyant," Faites said. "I saw you when you first arrived, coming up the gangway. Your limp...some time ago I too suffered a broken leg." He returned his gaze to the folder. "I became all too well acquainted with the characteristics and inconveniences of limping." Wiping his forehead with a napkin, Halcyon felt himself relaxing, and his face appeared to recover some of its color.
"Damn silly of me," Halcyon laughed. "The shower is skid proof, yet I still managed to slip on the soap. Imagine the embarrassment." He laughed louder even as he frantically knotted a napkin under the table.
Faites smiled slightly. "It must have been horrendous, lying there, helpless, waiting for rescue." Halcyon shifted in his seat again and drank a large gulp of his drink. "Well, everything appears to be in order. Your requests are very clearly spelled out, down to the last detail."
"I'm eager to see if the stories are true," Halcyon replied. "I mean, in all honesty, this whole thing sounds…” Faites laughed deeply as he held up his hand.
"Oh, it is true," Faites said. "About that, you will have no doubts soon." He touched the other folder. "And Mr. Engel. I trust you had a good journey to Point of Stars."
"It was a long and arduous voyage," the white-haired man said. Again, Halcyon caught a hint of a foreign accent, particularly in Engel's pronunciation of ard-oo-us.
"Ah well," Faites said. "Yes, everything appears to be in order with you too." Halcyon began digging in to his meal. "Gentlemen, what awaits you is beyond your powers of imagination or comprehension. On board my ship, this Starry Night, anything is possible. Anything you could wish for is at the end of your very fortunate fingertips. Anything you desire is a mere push of a button or opening of a door away. Based upon your requests, I have arranged this trip to satisfy the very fantasies you've requested, and in the morning a world of wonder will be made available to you. When you return to your rooms this evening, you will find on your pillows a platinum key. When you wake tomorrow, go to the room number, which you'll find on the key, and open the door."
"And then?" Halcyon asked just before taking a large bite of fish.
"And then," Faites replied as he locked eyes with the young man, never altering his gaze even as he sat down, never blinking, "you'll know the truth of Hamlet, my friend. There are more things in heaven and earth than were dreamt of in your philosophy."
****
That night, the ship tossed upon heavy seas as it plowed headlong into a lengthy storm. Lightning crackled outside the windows, lighting Halcyon's cabin and casting shadows like phantoms. Halcyon lay awake, half under the covers, a half-burned cigarette between the pointer and index fingers on his left hand.
While the storm was certainly causing the Starry Night to lurch and sway, it was not the heavy motion of the boat that kept him awake. Rather, it was the persistent pain in his left leg. Even now, some time after it was broken, the leg set about proving the adage that old wounds make great barometers. And the pain served to remind Halcyon of recent events as well, events he just assumed that he put behind him.
Reaching onto the nightstand, he grabbed the key that he had found on his pillow when he returned, stuffed and satiated, from dinner with the charming Ms. Riley, the intense Mr. Faites, and the enigmatic Mr. Engel. It was an ordinary key in all respects, down to the ornately decorated but still relatively cheap plastic tag attached to it. However, having grown up around his father's business, he knew that it was indeed made of platinum. Solid platinum.
"Room 10," Halcyon said to himself, taking three puffs in quick succession from his cigarette. He was tempted to get dressed and go to the room now, but he suspected that it wouldn't do him any good yet. Whether it was because the fantasy wouldn't work before morning or because (more likely) the ship's crew hadn't had time yet to create realistic illusions he wasn't sure. What he did know was that he wouldn't believe the Starry Night's reputation until he saw it--experienced it--himself.
The lightning flashed, and the thunder cracked almost immediately. A shooting pain shot up through Halcyon's leg, and he winced and smoked more of the cigarette. His doctor had assured him that all would be well with the leg soon, and Halcyon clung to that belief even as he stifled the butt and snuggled up under the silk sheets of the bed.
****
Breakfast had been uneventful. The food, according to Halcyon's preference, had been plain indeed, just two scrambled eggs and grits. He never was hungry in the morning, preferring instead to feast heavily at lunch and dinner. His eyes, however, had feasted upon Ms. Riley, who had dined alone with him that morning. They exchanged few words, but he knew that she had seen him looking at her.
Ms. Riley seemed stuffy, unattainable, yet Halcyon knew that a tigress had to be lurking underneath her business suit.
He remembered the way she smirked at his every word as he clutched the key to Room 10 in his right hand, and he wondered, almost nervously, if everything would turn out to be true. Would his fantasy, as he requested it, truly come to life? I wonder if I can add Ms. Riley to it after it starts, he thought to himself as he passed Room 8 and then Room 9. He stopped momentarily to rub his leg, which was aching again.
Finally, he stood before Room 10. The door was nearly identical to all of the others on the hall, a tasteful if unimpressive mahogany colored wood. The only difference was the lock, which was a deep copper color compared to light gold of all the others. Reaching forward, he inserted the key into the lock and paused, breathing deeply as, despite himself, his heart began beating rapidly. If this is all a fucking bluff, he thought as he gave the key a twist. The lock clicked. After taking three quick breaths, he pushed on the door and walked into...
****
...a secluded grotto just off of a main room where a raucous party was in full swing. Men and women in full evening wear danced close together on the floor while on the margins prodigious quantities of alcohol flowed freely. Turning to his left, moving his gaze from the room to the grotto itself, his eyes were greeted by sights wondrous to behold. Women of all shapes, from those who could have passed for supermodels to those who would have appeared at home on darkened street corners of large metropolitan areas, swam and played in the steaming waters of a blue pool. One, who wore nothing but a slender silver thong, sat beneath the waterfall that provided a fresh supply for the pool. Droplets ran in mini-rivers from her erect nipples and down her shapely sides until they plopped slowly onto the tile of the poolside, almost as if they were reluctant to leave her. Halcyon let his eyes drink her in, all except the face, something he rarely paid attention to.
Other women around the pool found other ways to entertain themselves, some alone and some together. Some simply lazed slowly in the water, gazing seductively at Halcyon and beckoning for him to enter.
"May I help you with your clothes, Kyle?" a petite blond said as she approached from behind. Halcyon turned and was greeted by the extremely shapely and extremely naked woman, who then wrapped her arms around his waist and began kissing him passionately. After almost a minute of this, Halcyon backed up and licked his lips.
"Hold that thought, baby," Halcyon sneered. "Let me get a drink first." The blond pouted and slowly ran her hands over her body.
"But Kyle," she pleaded, "I need your attention. I crave you. I'll just die if I have to wait to be with you!" He smiled. Damn, Halcyon thought, it's perfect. Completely perfect!
"I got nothing but time, darlin'," he said condescendingly. "I promise I'll be right back. You waited this long for the best, so you can take it just a little longer." The blond pouted and pleaded more, but Halcyon ignored her as well as the pleas of other women around the pool, holding up a reassuring hand to all yet specifically acknowledging none. Reaching the edge of the grotto, he bounded up the stairs and entered the main room.
As he walked to the bar, making his way through the undulating dancers, he was suddenly struck by something else. "My leg's better," he said out loud though no one could have heard him over the music. "Man, they even fixed that!" Laughing, he pushed through the last barricade of bodies and reached the bar.
"Well, good evening sir," the bartender said pleasantly even though he had to shout over the music. "Have I ever told you, sir, what a simple pleasure it is to be in your employ, particularly on these nights?"
"It is a pleasure, isn't it Baines," Halcyon said as the name of the bartender suddenly popped into his head. "You're very fortunate that you found me. Now..." The bartender held up his hand and pulled a large white drink from beneath the bar.
"Don't worry, sir. It's all ready for you. Godet and milk, warmed to exactly 100 degrees." Halcyon smiled and picked up the drink. Sipping at the thick white mixture, he smacked his lips and then took bigger gulps.
"Why Baines," he said in the same tone that one would use to praise a child. "Very good, Baines. Very good indeed! And here," he said as he pulled out a thick wad of hundred dollar bills secured in a solid platinum money clip, "is your reward." He threw five hundreds on the bar, and Baines very lovingly picked them and cradled them like tiny paper children.
"A treasure of a lifetime, sir," Baines beamed, his pudgy face blushing slightly.
"Have more of these," Halcyon said, pointing at the glass, "sent over to the grotto at the top of every hour. If I'm otherwise indisposed, just leave them on the side of the pool." Baines' eyes gleamed.
"You got it, sir," the bartender said. Halcyon turned and looked back at the dance floor. From the way many of the couples were dancing, he wondered if the grotto was only place depravity was taking place. This is my kind of party, he thought as he downed the rest of his drink in four large gulps. He threw the glass into a nearby fire and watched it shatter in the flames. Finally, his belly warm from the alcohol, he moved back into the mass of the crowd. Even as he walked, he began loosening his tie, pulling the knot far away from his neck.
Just as he was about to leave the dancers, however, one of them bumped into him. When Halcyon saw who it was, his eyes lit up, and he grinned a Cheshire cat grin.
"Well, well, well," he said as he looked her over. "What do we have here?" He took her hand and led her to the edge of the room, pulling her close, kissing her deeply.
Ms. Riley, dressed in a loosely fitting white dress, returned the kiss, taking her silver glasses off and throwing them into yet another fire. Her hazel eyes were rimmed with black mascara, and a deep red rouge laid on a little too thickly adorned her cheeks. She looked at Halcyon as if he was the only man alive, the only man she'd ever need or want.
"Oh, Kyle," she whispered. "I've waited, so patiently, so long for a real man like you to...come...along. I've needed you to sweep me away, to release the woman within. Will you, Kyle? Will you give me that pleasure?" She was nearly weeping with delight as Kyle pulled her close again and let his hands wander where they would.
"I know of a room, nearby," he whispered in her ear. "Not the grotto, but another room. Where we can be alone for a while. Would you like that, Ms. Riley?" Her eyes sparkled, and her knees went weak.
"Call me Thera," she moaned. "Oh god, please call me Thera." Halcyon grabbed her hand and pulled her towards a hallway hidden behind several tall plants.
"I'll think about it," he sneered as they walked in the relative darkness and came to a jet-black door. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a large ivory key and inserted it into the lock. The door opened with a simple push, and the two entered slowly.
The room was octagonal and featured predominantly black and white. A white, round bed sat in the middle of the room, the silk and satin sheets carefully and immaculately turned down. Black cabinets stood against the white walls. Some of the cabinets bore clear glass fronts, revealing the contents within. One had a large television and DVD player. Another contained an extremely expensive stereo system which was wired to speakers mounted on top of each cabinet. Another contained a substantial collection of all types of alcohol along with appropriate glasses. Yet another contained a refrigerator and microwave. The remaining three cabinets, however, had solid black doors, and each door was locked. Halcyon reached into his pocket and felt the key for the cabinets. His Cheshire cat grin widened.
Ms. Riley pulled herself close to him and again passionately and deeply kissed his mouth. Suddenly, with his right hand, he grabbed her arm and pushed her away from him violently. She stumbled but managed to keep her feet.
"This is my room," Halcyon hissed. "My room. My rules. Is that understood?" Riley, her cheeks flushing, nodded.
"Yes, Kyle," she said softly.
"Yes, what?" Halcyon hissed even more coldly.
"Yes, sir," Riley cooed. Halcyon smiled malevolently, lust burning in his eyes.
"Good girl," he said, taking off his coat. "Now, wench, on your knees!" Positively beaming, Ms. Riley lowered herself to her knees, never taking her eyes off Halcyon. He circled back as he finished taking off his tie. He pushed on the black door, which slowly began to close.
"Now," he said as he began wrapping the tie around his hands, "let's see what you're made of, shall we?" As he approached her, lifting the tie to the level of her neck, the door slammed shut.
****
The sun was beginning to set when Halcyon stepped out onto the deck of the Starry Night. He was tired, very tired, but extremely pleased by his adventure in Room 10, and stared out onto the gleaming ocean waters wondering why no one had told him of Mr. Faites' extraordinary talents before. He rubbed his chest which, along with the rest of his body, was sore from the afternoon's activities.
As he stared at the ocean, Mr. Engel approached from another hatchway, his solid white hair blowing in the sea breeze. "Well," he said genially. "It sparkles like diamonds, does it not?" Halcyon looked over at the old man, thought momentarily about saying nothing at all, and finally decided that it would do not harm to talk.
"Like diamonds," Halcyon agreed. "Or better yet, sapphires. The water is sapphire blue."
"I must disagree, young man," Engel said, hints of a foreign accent again surfacing. "Like diamonds is the better simile." He looked at the young man through the lenses of his white-rimmed glasses. "Diamonds are infinitely more precious."
Halcyon smiled and looked at the white-haired man. "Have a thing for diamonds?" he asked. Engel smiled slightly and looked back at the water,
"Yes, diamonds," Engel replied. "I have a...thing...for diamonds." Engel breathed deeply the salty air. "Have you any idea what diamonds are worth, Mr. Halcyon?" The young man laughed slightly to himself, wondering whether to indulge the fool or just walk back to his cabin. Halcyon was intimately aware of the cost of diamonds. His father, Ulysses, owned ten jewelry stores and obsessed over the cost of precious gems, spouting off figures nearly all of the time. Halcyon had relished the thought of going on this trip if for no other reason than to get a break from his father's invectives aimed at DeBeers.
"I'm afraid I don't," Halcyon lied. Engel shook his head.
"Neither do I," he replied. "Not in today's market. I'd very much like to know."
"There's always the Internet," the young man said, rapidly tiring of the whole conversation. Engel seemed somewhat puzzled by the statement, but then he simply smiled and turned to look at Halcyon again.
"Learning new technology," Engel said, "is not easy for me. I have a learning disorder. I'll not bother you with the name; however, reading is very difficult for me. And my writing..."
"Bad, huh?" Halcyon said, tsk tsking the old man. "What a shame. How did you ever let Mr. Faites know what you wanted in your fantasy?" Engel absorbed the comment and smiled a closed-lip smile.
"Patience is a virtue, young man," Engel said as he stepped away from the railing and prepared to leave. He tapped a hand on Halcyon's shoulder. "It is not always a virtue of the young, however. Good evening, Mr. Halcyon." Engel walked off and entered a hatchway back to the inside of the ship. Halcyon looked back at the water and laughed.
"What an old nut!" he said through the laughter. "What a complete idiot!" He laughed for nearly two minutes before finally turning and reentering the ship. He needed to go to his cabin, to rest and recover before going to dinner and, more importantly, before planning out what he would do next in Room 10.
****
The kitchen of the Starry Night, while relatively small, was well organized, and everything from the largest mixer to the smallest marrow spoon was placed according to Hardtack's preferences. He breezed easily from one station to the next, prepping one item then checking on the progress of another then starting another, all in a blur of hyper efficiency. Souse chefs would occasionally pop in from a small preparation room adjoining the main kitchen, but for the most part they stayed out unless specifically requested to enter by the master chef.
The only thing that seemed conspicuously out of place was a small table near a porthole in the back of the kitchen. Rudolpho Faites sat at the table, pen quickly flowing in ornate script over crème-colored heavy bond paper. As Hardtack would move behind him to reach a utensil or dish, Faites would shift his weight slightly to provide more room.
"I tell you, Mr. Faites," Hardtack said with a mixture of pity and irritation. "I don't see how you can get any work done here, especially when you've got that great office upstairs." The pressure cooker began hissing steam, and Hardtack moved quickly to deal with it.
"Ms. Riley says I've been spending too much time up there of late," Faites said even as he continued to write. "There may be something to that." He paused and looked up, his eyes taking on a distant, vacant look. "She may be...." His left hand reached up and clutched a diamond ring which hung from a simple gold chain draped around his neck. Hardtack paused, his face taking on a sad, grim look.
"Can I get you anything, sir?" he asked, barely above a whisper but still audible even in the noise of the kitchen.
"No," Faites said absently. Closing his eyes and reopening them slowly, he pulled himself back from the place where he had gone. "No, thank you, Hardtack. I apologize. I must be in your way here."
"Not at all, Mr. Faites," Hardtack said as he resumed his frantic pace.
"Give me time," Faites said, forcing a smile. "All will be well soon. I promise. Indeed," he paused, his eyes again becoming distant, "I swear it will."
****
Dinner was once again an opulent affair, and Halcyon's menu selection turned out to be as eclectic as ever. Blowfish sashimi, with just enough of the liver attached to produce a pleasant tingle in his lips. This was followed by a course of sweet and sour chicken--minus the sweet and sour sauce, minced meat pie, baked Alaska, and the ever present iced tea and Godet and milk.
"So, Mr. Halcyon," Faites asked between sips of his extremely dry Merlot, "was it everything that you hoped it would be?" Halcyon smiled mischievously.
"Oh yeah," he said, his mouth half-full of pie. "I've got to admit it, now. I thought, frankly, that you were full of shit if you'll excuse the language. But, everything's true isn't it." His gaze, nearly malevolent, shifted to Ms. Riley, who was eating a second bowl of mixed greens salad and vinaigrette dressing. She merely continued eating, barely even acknowledging Halcyon's presence. "It was perfect, Ms. Riley. Absolutely perfect." Ms. Riley smiled lightly and resumed ignoring him.
"Well," Faites said, his voice shifting to a much lower register, "I'm pleased to hear that the experience has been all you'd dreamed so far. And just think, sir. You've several more days at sea to explore it."
"And I intend to, Mr. Faites." Again, he shifted his gaze to Ms. Riley. "I truly intend to." Faites finished his glass, and a steward seemingly materialized out of the background, carefully decanting more into the crystal glass.
"And is everything to your satisfaction, Mr. Engel?" The old man sat before his nearly finished meal of sausages and cheese. He smiled lightly and wiped his mouth with one of the white cloth napkins.
"Everything is satisfactory," he said.
"Is that all you're going to say, Engel?" Halcyon asked with a laugh. "Doesn't really tell us much, does it."
"Everyone's fantasy is confidential unless the client chooses to reveal it," Faites interjected. "If satisfactory is all he wishes to say, that is his choice."
"Young man," Engel said to Halcyon. "You're trying to provoke me into some sort of harsh response. I'm far too old to be drawn into such conflicts. If you truly paid attention, you could learn a great deal through observation. There are stories to be told in everything if you are simply bright enough to connect the threads. I have a strong suspicion that you will never learn this, however." Faites shot an icy look at Engel as Halcyon looked down to find the last morsel of pie. "I believe I will say goodnight now," Engel said, standing up and leaving the Great Cabin.
"Touchy, touchy," Halcyon said as he began digging his spoon into the baked Alaska.
"What was your line of work again?" Ms. Riley asked Halcyon. His eyes gleamed. "It was something to do with jewelry, wasn't it?" Halcyon laughed.
"Something like that," he said. "My father owns several jewelry stores which are scattered over a three state area. Some time ago he decided that he was getting too old to check on the operations personally, so he hired me to do it for him. You could say I'm a traveling human relations man."
"You must be quite successful," Ms. Riley said before sipping at her water. "You radiate charm and tact."
"In buckets and spades," he replied.
"And what did you do before going into...human relations?" Halcyon sat back and swirled his iced tea in its glass.
"A little bit of everything," he said. "You could say I was something of a late bloomer. But then, there was no real pressing need to find employment. My father isn't what you'd call filthy rich." He swallowed a large gulp of tea. "His hands are pretty dirty though." Halcyon smiled widely.
"Well, I must bid you all a good evening," Ms. Riley said as she stood up. "Mr. Faites, I'll have those reports ready for you in the morning."
"Thank you, Ms. Riley," Faites said. Halcyon quickly downed the rest of his tea.
"Sorry to run like this," he said, quickly getting up from his chair. "Long day today. And I'm planning on an even longer one tomorrow. Better get some sleep."
"Quite," Faites muttered. "Good evening to you, then." He slowly swallowed the rest of his glass of wine, and he watched carefully, unblinkingly with his eyes as Halcyon left the Great Cabin.
Moving quickly, the young man caught up to Ms. Riley, who was getting ready to climb the stairs to the next floor.
"So," he said, saddling up next to her, "may I walk you to your room?"
Ms. Riley smirked and shook her head. "I'd rather you didn't, sir," she said blankly. Halcyon continued his pace.
"I insist," he said. "We haven't talked much. It bothers me when I've had so little conversation with someone so..." He paused. "Efficient." She rolled her eyes and pushed her glasses further up onto her nose.
"I'm sure that's the word you were fishing for," she said sarcastically.
"A live wire, I see," Halcyon said, implying as much as he could through those words. "Now we're getting somewhere." The two of them stopped before a cabin with 'Thera Riley' printed on its small gold nameplate. She turned to look at him squarely in the face, her hands clasped behind her back.
"You put me into your fantasy, didn't you?" she asked though her tone implied that she already knew the answer. "What is it with people like you? You see a plain Jane and assume that something...something...must be lurking inside, something to please whatever craving it is you may be having."
"The thought had crossed my mind, now that you mention it," Halcyon murmured condescendingly as he moved closer to her. Ms. Riley stood her ground and showed no sign that her personal space was being violated. Instead, she smiled wickedly.
"So what was it? A night of wild passion on the beach?" She moved closer to him. "Me, hanging by my wrists from ropes while you...had your way? Or maybe I was your slave to be commanded, to do whatever your bidding may have been?" Halcyon laughed quietly.
"Care to join me tomorrow to find out?"
"To be frank, Mr. Halcyon," she said, moving close enough to him to be kissed, "no, I would not. You're not the first to seize upon me like this. And, it is unfortunately an occupational hazard, you will not be the last. You see something, something you think you cannot have, and you must have it." She turned around and unlocked her door.
"It's a pity," Halcyon said. "I think it could be fun. See, I know you, Thera. I've seen into you, and I know what you are." Riley slowed faded into the darkness of her cabin.
"Not really, Mr. Halcyon," she said as the door was closing. "It is the same with all of you." She caught the door with her right hand just before it closed. "You see only what you have projected onto me. But still, now or later, it will haunt you. Everything you think you know about me is nowhere near the truth. It is a truth you will never know." The door closed, and the lock immediately latched.
"Feisty little bitch, aren't you," Halcyon said to himself, his Cheshire Cat grin returning. Well, he thought, we'll see tomorrow just how much I can project onto you. And I'll draw you in yet, pretty thing. I'll draw you in yet.
****
The next morning, Halcyon slept in and skipped breakfast. Feeling extremely well rested and full of energy, he put on a blue jumpsuit, grabbed the key to Room 10, and headed down the hall. It was 12PM according to the clock.
As he strutted down the corridor, he passed personnel who
were busy cleaning the rooms and replenishing supplies. He noted with some degree of envy that they
were even checking the rooms which were currently unoccupied. I must ask him where he hires his
servants, he thought. These
people know how to do the job properly.
Not like those damned unionized people Daddy hires.
Finally, he reached Room 10. With a look of great joy on his face, he inserted the key, and giggling to himself, he walked quickly...
****
...into the museyroom. Hibberdijibbers and hackysack handsaws buzzring in circles.
"Waiter!" Halcyon ejaculated in puzzleymint, "What in the Helen's gone on?"
The room was a shifting dreamy mirage of a party, and people drifted in and out seemingly when they pleased.
Halcyon, happy Halcyon, Halcyon days again. "Welcomen side and yurself worm by the fry," he of the great handle-bar mustachios proclaimed. Unbeknowingly to his own fragile psyche, our own H.C.E. crisscrossed the threshold like the brushing bride.
"H.C.E.!" the party yelled. Halcyon, happy Halcyon, repeated redundantly once again his skillful inquiry.
"What in Helen's gone on here! Whymeye speaken gibberish?" Whereupon a cad with a pipe slid up and offered disown words by way of explicanation.
"Oz about to tell you," the cad said, solemnly goosing the nearest wait rest. She sherked with the light and drunken swich liquor with the buoys by the Captain Morgan. "Yessir, oz about to say! This fan to see, wonderful to behead! Howard you ever think of such as this? Hum?"
Halcyon grabbed his temples, trying to make the world he'd stepped into come into focus. However, every time he tried to speak or even think carefully, the same things happened to his words.
"Whose Partee? Jamie here?" Halcyon queried without rest pounce. The cad lid his pipe and smoked rings around the room, a smoke pocket full of poses.
"Y H.C.E.," the cad said as he googled the eyes of the young lemming across the carpeted pond. "It's really fun to be with ol' H.C.E.!"
"Now cuttin dat clout!" H.C.E. yodeled. "Travelled wide to get too far, un me never called H.C.E." He looked up angerly and shrieved his fist. "My questions never fellow the marrow and straits! Peking clearly, to peak cleverly, my fortune my fortune to sprechen clear as the morn dew!"
Halcyon hung his head in his hands, trying to make
sense out of his situation.
"Alright," he bespoke the cad, "Iman finding door and leafing to another page. Then, gettin in, begin again." Here he opened wide the door. Museyroom and nothing more.
"Flock!" he screamed.
"H.C.E.!" the party yelled.
"Now cuddit ought!" Halcyon whaled! Moby the dick spewed him in salt and sea. "Whymeye H.C.E.? Hug? Sommey ex-plane deux me! Sommey!" The crowd parted, mucking way for the grandee of the room.
"Mayor Seedotes," the cad explain as he nippled into the closet with the closest of the female of opposite engender.
"Doseydotes," the metro golden major zed 2 awl by way of acknowledge-e-ments. "Yer H.C.E. Yessir, the grated and puffered H.C.E." Hymn shouted the weight ooh lad oarway, troweling Halcyon into the transom.
"Wad H.C.E.!? Wad H.C.E!?" Halcyon screeched owl-like in desecration. The mayor kicked him through the doorway.
"Here Comes Embicile!" he sendentary before turning and going back...
The room faded like a nightmare through the open door, leaving Halcyon with an injured psyche and a throbbing rear-end.
****
Halcyon staggered out onto the deck, his eyes wide and his head throbbing. He was twice as tired as he had been the day before, but he'd spent hardly any time in Room 10. Pulling his thoughts together, he prepared to go find Mr. Faites to complain. At that moment, however, he noticed two things. One, it was night. Two, Mr. Faites was on the deck as well, his gaze directed towards the ocean.
“Mr. Faites,” Halcyon said as he staggered towards him, “I demand a fucking explanation for what just happened to me!” Faites was staring forlornly out onto the black ocean. Few lights were on, and while it was obvious that the seas were rolling, the stars still painted a brilliant backdrop. Faites’ eyes, however, were staring down into the murky depths.
“Mr. Faites, I believe I am entitled!” He tugged on Faites’ sleeve, and the old man finally turned to look at him.
“Good evening, Mr. Halcyon, my young friend,” he said softly but firmly. “We missed you at dinner this evening. You were speaking of an explanation. For what do I owe this explanation? Yesterday, you were glowing about the fantasy and the conquests you’d engaged in.”
“Yesterday isn’t the issue!” Halcyon hissed. “The issue is the madhouse I just entered and from which I was kicked out at boot point!” Faites furrowed his brow and turned to face the young man. "And the issue is also how come so much time passed. I wasn't in that damn room more than a few minutes, and yet it's gone from frickin' noon to frickin' half passed stupid!"
“Madhouse? There was no madhouse listed in your request. Believe me, I would know. I’ve had them requested a number of times.” Halcyon balled his hands into fists and strongly considered knocking the old man overboard into the surf. Faites' impertinence, power or no power, was severely grating on his nerves.
“How do you explain then,” Halcyon continued as he walked up to the railing, “me walking into a ‘museyroom,’ everyone talking gibberish. Including me, Faites, and I was trying like hell not to!” He beat his hands on the railing. “And they kept calling me H.C.E. Over and over again. And as the Mayor was kicking me out of the ‘party,’ he finally revealed that everyone thought I was an embicile! Er, imbecile.”
“Museyroom?” Faites said with a hint of recognition. “H.C.E.? Well, then there’s your explanation. The mindset of the patron can affect the outcome of the fantasy.” He turned once again to the water.
“Now, just a damn minute!” Halcyon yelled. “Just what are you saying? That I’m a nut? Because if you are…”
“No, no, no,” Faites said reassuringly. “I’m only saying that when you read Finnegans Wake it must have left quite an impression upon you.” He sniffed at the night air. “The impression, inadvertently I’m sure, came bleeding out into the fantasy. I’ll do what I can to keep it from happening again, but…”
“What the fuck is Finnegans Wake?” Halcyon asked disdainfully. “I’ve never even heard of it.”
“Work of a genius,” Faites said, “or of a madman. Take your pick. Personally, I preferred Joyce’s Ulysses to Mr. Earwicker’s night dream, but…”
“Joyce fucking who!?” Halcyon yelled.
“James Joyce!” Faites yelled back, clearly annoyed. “I’m surprised you don’t remember the author.”
“How could I,” Halcyon replied, “when I’ve never read a word of him? I skipped those damn useless bleeding heart liberal crap arts classes when I did go to college! Why would I read a damn book when I didn’t have to?” Faites turned to face Halcyon square on.
“How very interesting,” he said. “No wonder it came bleeding through. The book bothered you so much that you’ve blocked out the knowledge of it. Perhaps, when we get back, you should look into…”
“I tell you I’ve never read it! But, you have. Maybe you influenced this disaster!” Faites recoiled as if having been hit by a hot iron.
“I assure you, sir,” Faites said sternly, “that I have no control over your fantasies other than to ensure your safety and to ensure that you are getting what you want. Even if I wished to influence your desires and the way the fantasy plays out, I couldn’t. This power,” Faites said as he stared up to the sky, “be it a blessing or a curse, cannot be used for me. I am compelled, for lack of a better word, to exercise this talent in the service of others. Certainly, I can charge for my services, but…”
“Bullshit!” Halcyon said. “Try that one again! I know you just snapped your fingers and all of this appeared out of nothing.”
“If only,” Faites said. “This is the accumulation of a lifetime’s work. A very long lifetime. No, I may not use my singular talents for personal purposes. It must be carried out in the service of others. I’ve had swindlers on board, extortionists, arsonists…” He paused. “Killers,” he said deeply. “And what could I do? Nothing. Let them have their fantasies, no matter how simple or complicated, no matter how innocent or demented, and send them on their merry way. All of my clients receive the same treatment. I have no choice. I have read Joyce, Mr. Halcyon, but I could no more impose that book on your fantasy than I could The Divine Comedy or The Song of Roland or the Bhagavad-Gita or any of the hundreds of thousands of other works I’ve examined over…over the years.”
"Then why the hell did this just happen? Where did all the time go?" Halcyon yelled. "What does your power tell you about that, Faites?"
"Again," Faites said, "I tell you that you must have read the book, or at least part of it, even only in passing. It made an impression on you, and for whatever reason it came through tonight. I'm sorry, but that is the only possible explanation." He turned towards the ship. "As for the time, that's simple as well. What happens in the fantasy world is not necessarily in sync with what is happening out here. Trust me, sir, you won't walk into a fantasy and pop out fifty years past your natural, but several hours can conceivably slip away in mere minutes."
"Right," Halcyon said, "I'm going by the kitchen and get that damn cook to whip something up for me, and after I've rested, I'm going back again."
"Noooo," Faites said, shaking his head. "I wouldn't recommend doing that. You've had a trying experience tonight, and that makes it all the more likely that things will go wrong for if you jump right back in. Take the night to sort yourself out. Go back to your cabin." Faites began speaking reassuringly. "Rest, young man. I'll have the stewards bring some food to your room. In the morning, you can try again, and things will be better." Halcyon looked at him skeptically and then breathed deeply.
"Okay," he sai