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291 lines
8.7 KiB
Text
291 lines
8.7 KiB
Text
.LP
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.ce
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.ps 16
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.B
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THE CARRIER
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.R
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.ps 8
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.CW
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tags: 1993, chipotle_pope_bags, gravely_cuss, pennis_mold, piro, plinth_mold, tab2, wetbeard
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.R
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"This logo is all wrong," complained Pennis Mold. "You've got to
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include the inverted commas, like this." Pennis made a few marks on
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the leaf and held up his doctored version of the logo. "Is that so
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hard?"
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"It just seems like a bunch of artsy-fartsy
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.I
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crap,
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.R
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to me," said
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Chipotle. "It's a stroke book. Why does it have to be high concept?"
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Pennis waved the new logo around, gesturing with authority, which
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finally triggered Chipoltle to relent.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Okay, all right, I'll give it another pass."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Each day at the company was a repeat of this same pattern. Pennis
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would issue instructions and then there would be friction. By the end
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of his fifth year at
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MASSIVE FICTIONS\f(CW™\fR,
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Pennis was all but ready to
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hang it up. Then, more problems emerged. A general strike had been
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called, partway into his latest project, which had resulted in Pennis'
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line being reduced to a handful of stroke books and a live streaming
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video site that was only accessible from within the Bohemian Grove.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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The publishing business had proven more difficult than he had
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anticipated.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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And Pennis didn't even like stroke books.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Years ago.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Pornstations on," chirped the instructor.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Gravely and Chipoltle slapped the sides of their pornstations,
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whispering behind the buzzing of the blue lights. Their instructor
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adjusted the smallpox heart on her cheek and immediately launched into
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her morning monologue. At this, Chipoltle activated his stresspants.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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A fact that did not pass unobserved by his classmates.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Back in the present.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Sir, how long until dinner?"
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Help me with these potatoes," answered Pennis Mold.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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The two men went to work, removing the polymer wrap from each of a
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dozen red potatoes. Pennis was going to wing it. He hoped that Plinth
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wouldn't notice he'd bought organic. And from outside the company, to
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boot. Pennis decided then and there that Plinth would have to tough it
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out. Human food was human food.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Many years ago.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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The squad of boys made their way down the corridor. Rounding a
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corner, a snatch of audio snagged their attention. "Gravely Cuss,
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Chipotle Pope Bags (Low Fat), Pennis Cialis Mold\(emreport to the
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office at your convenience."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"That means never," laughed Pennis Mold.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"I think I like the sound of that woman's voice," remarked
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Chipotle.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Present time, present day.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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The deck of the carrier struggled to remain parallel with the
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horizon. As Pennis stumbled onto deck, a group of homeless men pedaled
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out on their bicycles, brandishing empty gas cans, demanding spare
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change so that they might refuel their stranded automobiles. Seemingly
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oblivious to the rolling of the ship's deck, the cyclists converged on
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Pennis' position.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Pennis looked around and wondered where their automobiles could
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possibly have broken down. For that matter, how could anyone be
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homeless on an aircraft carrier?
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"An aircraft carrier is supposed to have stabilizers," he explained
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to the homeless men. "Obviously, ours are not working very well. It's
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probably dangerous for you to be riding out here, right now."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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The cyclists eyed each other nervously. Slowly, apprehension
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hardened into rage.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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This guy was ignoring their pitch.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Pause to consider:
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Pennis was the youngest of the three Mold brothers. To him\(emand
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to their father\(emit seemed he could never quite measure up. This had
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made Pennis' life much more difficult than he would have preferred.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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But now he had his own ship.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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The carrier was an old vessel, to be sure. But she was seaworthy,
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and Pennis had never regretted his investment.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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He had even made some improvements of his own.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"I just can't take it anymore," gasped Pennis Mold, tipping against
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the hold and clutching his stomach in a decaying imitation of his
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brother's photogenic, sportsmanlike physicality. He dropped the very
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important folder of leaves he had just removed from the ship's vault.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"What, you'd rather head back up top? Relax. We'll rendezvous with
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your brother soon."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"It's not the ship that's making me sick."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Maybe you shouldn't have eaten so much of that weird cereal."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Paris sent me another case. I wouldn't feel right just throwing it
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away."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Pennis started back towards his quarters. Then reversed course.
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Then reversed again. He stared down at his shoes, which promptly faded
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into the floor beneath him. He was seeing green circles, spheres,
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squares, cubes, words. When he tried to focus on them he found that
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nothing came to mind.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Piro switched back to optical and then checked again. As with his
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other sensor sweeps, the visual pass confirmed that there were no
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approaching ships. He glanced over at Thomas and wondered if his visor
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would report the same thing. That is, if Thomas were to muster any
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interest in scanning the horizon. Piro imported his department's
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budget and earmarked an allotment for upgrades to his team's standard
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equipment. New visors for all his men.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"What I'd like is for everyone to be prepared to withdraw at a
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moment's notice," stated Plinth.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Understood, sir."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"I don't expect this will take very long. In fact, if not for the
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simple pleasures of life at sea, I doubt I would have agreed to this
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meeting at all."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Piro and Thomas both rolled their eyes.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"We'll be taking the same route back. I intend for us all to derive
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some enjoyment from this cruise. Consider it a peculiar sort of
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vacation. A paid vacation, obviously."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"If you don't mind my saying so, boss, the South Atlantic is kind
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of an awkward venue for a family dispute," observed Thomas.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Thomas, the open seas are essentially the only place left on Earth
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where humans may whisper to each other in relative privacy."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Incredulous looks. That hadn't been true for decades.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"In any case, this meeting will hardly constitute a debate. We've
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long ago settled any differences we might have had between us.
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Contrary to what you two have probably surmised, I intend to shake the
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man's hand."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"That's a whole grab bag of intentions you've got there, boss."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Hush now, Thomas."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Gentlemen."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Plinth Mold removed his safety belt and stepped out onto the deck
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of the carrier. At his side were his personal chef, an armed guard,
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and three of his most trusted attorneys. The chef shuffled nervously,
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fingering the weapon concealed within his coat pocket.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Let's get out of this damned sunlight, thought the chef.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Let's get out of this sunlight," suggested Plinth Mold, and all
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who were present nodded in agreement.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Arriving to greet Plinth and his entourage were a coterie of men in
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green suits. Vintage microfiber. They pegged Piro immediately as a
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fellow specialist and nodded to him, exchanging introductions via
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private channel. The conjoined group of men made their way into a
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vacant deck elevator and adjusted their postures to accommodate the
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cramped space. Presently, the doors swung shut and the mechanism
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slowly lowered them into the sub-levels of the carrier.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Inexplicably, Plinth's attorneys seemed as nervous as the chef.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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The elevator doors slid open again and Plinth took the lead,
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navigating a winding series of passageways that finally terminated in
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the entrance to an executive conference room. He felt at home on the
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carrier, and somehow seemed familiar with its layout. This came as a
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mild surprise since he had never previously studied the vessel, nor
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had he ever set foot aboard such a craft. On the other hand, it was
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sometimes difficult for him to isolate the experiences which had
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accumulated throughout his long life. It was certainly possible that
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the carrier had, at some point in time, belonged to him or to one of
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his holding companies. He was amused because he could not remember,
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could not distinguish between whimsy and reality.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Plinth poured himself a glass of water and replaced the pitcher at
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the center of the table.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Lt. Commander Wetbeard was the first to spot the lighthouse. He
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reached instinctively for his pressure screen, but the board had gone
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dead. He fumbled in his shirt and eventually produced his personal
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leaf. Shit. It would not power up.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Without Piro to guide their attention, the percept team was
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scrambling on the deck below.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Thomas finally gave up on aiming at the toilet and resigned himself
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to urinating on the floor.
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