Pasha, an Avatar story.

[archaic]

Part 131

Spoiler: Mysterious package.

"Good evening, New British Museum, this is security, Bernardino Richardsen speaking, how may I help you?"
"Evnin' Dino, Chris Gillard, Department of Xeno-Augmentation."
"And how'd you spell that?"
"With two 'T's and one 'H'."
"Pass phraze?"
"The rain in spain isn't forecast to be Champagne."
The buzzer sounded, the door opened.
A few moments later Chris appeared in the Security Suite.
"Evening." Dino said to Chris.
"Evening." Chris said to Dino.
"Evening." Francis said to Chris.
"Evening." Chris said to Francis.
"Evening." Dino said to Francis.
"Evening." Francis said to Dino.
"You're both nuts." Chris, rolling his eyes.
"I blame Mark."
"Me 'n' all! 'E's a bad influence!"
"And he's not here."
"So he can't defend himself."
"Perfect." Chris sonded doubtful.
"We thought so."
"Yes, indeed we did."
"Tea." Francis, handing Chris a mug of tea "Just the way you like it!"
"In a cup."
"You know it. Oh, and there's a package turned up 'ere, just  after lunch. Addressed to someone name of 'Professor Bongalides."
"Yeah, I might've gotten a bit carried away when I was ordering."
"No kidding."
"Any luck with the power adaptor?"
"Oh, yeah, 200% success."
"Err ..... "
"I found two."
"Result!"
"Yeah, handy."
"So, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna take my tea to the maintenance bay, along with Professor Bongalides's package." Chris, taking the package, and leaving for maintenance.
"Hey, Chris, does he know you've got his Package? Francis called after him, tongue firmly in cheek.

"Evening Chris." Paul, sticking his head round the door way.
"Paul."
"In early?"
"Guilty, thought I might get a bit extra done tonight."
"So what in the package?"
"Contents."
"Contents?"
"Yep."
"What?" Paul, clearly hoping Chris might give some details as to what the contents consisted of.
"I said yep!" Chris, raising his voice slightly, and enunciating very precisely.
"No, I meant 'what', as in what are the contents."
"The things that were in the package. Before I opened it, and removed them from the packaging."
"More specifically, what was it, exactly?"
"A reusable brown cardboard box, with a resealable top, and a label on it, addressed to Professor Bongalides, New British Museum, London, England ..... "
"No, I mean, what was in the box!" Paul interrupted
"Oh, 'contents'."
"Which was what?"
"No, it wasn't 'What'."
"What?"
"No ..... It wasn't."
"It wasn't what?"
"Exactly."
"What?"
"No ..... It wasn't."
"It wasn't "what", exactly?"
"That's what I said."
"What?"
"I said 'That's what I said'." Chris, again raising his voice slightly, and, if anything, enunciating even more precisely.
"What? No, never mind, if you don't want to tell me what's in your wretched package ..... "
"Contents." Chris slipped in quietly.
" ..... that's up to you, I am so not bothered."
"Well, in that case, I shan't tell you about the LED's, then."
"Bug roff, ya pith Tekken Zod." Paul said, or at least something like that anyway.
Paul walked away. Chris smirked, he'd enjoyed himself, and spoiled the eventual surprise when he revealed the finished project.

"So, Chris is on a wind up, or what?" Paul, evidently a little wound up.
"What?"
"Oh god, not you 'n' all!"
"Err ..... tea?"
"I think I've eared one, yeah."
Francis handed Paul a freshly made cup of tea, Dino placed the biscuits on the table.
"Right, hand over."
"Yep, Nothing happened, it's been dead all day, Professor Bongalides's package arriving was definitely the highlight of the day."
"Yeah, that's a deffo on that."
"Exciting stuff!"
"You've no idea." Dino sounded exhausted.
"I wouldn't bet on that." Paul, with the utmost sincerity, he'd had more than a few such days, which was how he'd learned his party piece, balancing a pen or pencil on his nose.
"So, laters!" Francis, standing up to leave.
"Ditto." Dino, pushing Francis toward the door.
"Well, see ya tomorrow!"
Paul sat, at the monitor wall, watched Dino and Francis walk away until they disappeared round the corner.
Paul sat, sipped his tea, and nibbled a cookie. He was most of the way into his second cookie when Pasha arrived.
"Kaltxì ma Paul."
"Err, yeah, calti ma Pasha."
"Need to work on that, Paul."
"Yeah, I don't have your gift for languages."
"All I hear around me is English. There word for that?"
"I'd say, full emersion. It's known to work well for humans to learn languages as well, so, yeah, makes sense, I guess."
"Chris still doing ìììì, errr, stuff?"
"Yep. Music?"
"Yes please."
Paul put on something tribal, Pasha approved.
Pasha leaned into the padded back to the bench, closed her eyes and smiled.
"Good?"
Pasha nodded, she remained almost completely motionless for perhaps a minute or so.
She eventually opened her eyes, opened the zipper pocket on her rebreather suitcase. She took out her pad and pen, hesitated a moment, before starting writing.
"What you writing?"
"Conversation between Candice, Beth, Jean, Carren, Gayle and Warren sì."
"Gayle?"
"Yeah, she one of team, but not working, I not understand. It not like I can just ask them to me explain."
"Have awake afterwards?"
"Yeah, wake, the not exactly party, after a funeral. Everyone tends to be real sad, tell stories about the person who's died. What they were like, what they did together, or separately. What the person was most proud of, and maybe most embarrassed about. Need to be careful abut what stories you tell. Tends to be a lot of alcohol gets drunk."
"Al co hol?"
"Yeah, alcohol, and sometimes much to much of it."
"Ììììeeerrrrr what al co hol mean?"
"Oh, right, yea, so, alcohol, well, err, it makes you drunk if you drink to much of it."
"Not understand."
"Oh boy." Paul took a deep breath, looked puzzled for a moment.
"I've got it." he went to the kitchen, and came back with a glass.
"Alcohol." he gestured to the glass, he took a sip.
"Now, the affects of alcohol." a second sip.
"Starts off very mild, so mild you can hardly tell." Paul, pretending to be slightly drunk, another sip
"Bu' ver sooooon i' ge' ver, ver obvis. Obviosis, obvi, obvioasis, obvidieo rentals, n' 'atsnotit, notitatall. Now! Uh, were was I? Oh yessss, oh yes, oh yes, I may, I may, I may, may I? I may've'adadrnkbt I'm not drnk, nont't'lldrnkyousee?"
Paul was getting into the swing of it, and doing a pretty fair impression or someone who was really quite drunk. He propped himself up on the table, and appeared to be struggling to focus. He absent mindedly tipped the contents of the glass on the floor, just as it was emptied, he brought it up to his lips, as if to take a sip, but it was empty. He looked shocked and confused at the empty glass.
"I apear to have fnshdit. I'llgo'n'getz um more."
He shuffled off toward the kitchen., he stumbeled as he got level with the doorway.
"Hey, what your game mister? You think I can't take you? I mayve 'ad a drink, but I can still 'ave you! O yes, sonny my lad, I'll 'it you so 'ard, you're great greeand chllreneneinen'll wind up in the middle next week of!"
Paul put up his fists in an extremely inexpert attempt at a boxers pose, as if ready to start a fight with the door frame.
"Oh, the silent type are you? Too good enough to talk to the likes of me are you!" Paul, unsteadily on his feet.
"Well, I'll soon wipe the face of your smile, you, you, you ..... Take that!" Paul swung a fist, completely missed the door frame, lost his balance, and fell over.
Pasha slid herself along the bench to see if he was OK.
"Did you see that? He, he, he filfthilthy swine punched me, I wasn't ready, or I'd knocked'izblkf. Filthy, ffilthy swine!" Paul, now even more intoxicated that before.
Paul struggled to stand on his feet again, but after some very uncoordinated thrashing about, finally managed it.
"You 'it me ..... but I forgive you .... " Paul fell against the doorframe " ..... Coz your my best friend, my best friend in the whole world, bstfrnd eeeeeeeeh nywned ever 'ave. There, I've said it, I love you, even if ...... What were we talking about? ..... By the way, did I evrtellyou, yourmybstfrndinth whole entire wrld?" Paul hugged the door frame, partly in an expression of the truest, deepest love and admiration for his best friend in the whole world, but mostly so he didn't fall over.
"Drunk again Paul?"
"No osifer, itsonlywater, hon 'n' onenest, I'm .....  jus ver tired ..... an' emo, emo, emo-shn-ll."
"Yes, as a skunk."
"I was just trying to explain alcohol to Pasha." Paul, now miraculously stone cold sober again.
"You're not kidding anyone! We've all seen you flirting with the doorframe!" Chris, not even slightly serious.
Pasha laughed.
"Alcohol, we call it 'swoa' have too much you 'rou'. You that much, you in big trouble! At least, I guess it same thing?"

[Toliman]

Read right now, txantsan! Good work

[archaic]

Part 132

Spoiler: LEDs.

"So, why are you back so soon?"
"I heard what sounded like a fall, I was worried."
"Nah, it's all good, just explaining the daemon drink."
"Demonstrating?"
"Whatever."
"Well, if you'll excuse me, I have a maintenance bay to keep an eye on. Good evening Pasha."
"Good evening ma Chris."
There was a pause in the conversation which, after a while, Paul ended.
"So, yeah, that's alcohol. Err ..... Oh yeah, When someone dies, the body gets cremated, or if you're really rich, or like the king or something, you get buried. Err, they dig a hole, the body is put in a coffin, that's a special box for burying people in, put the coffin in the hole, and back fill it. Law say's it's gotta be at least 2 meters deep, but there's some law, I can't remember exactly, that say's you can't dig it more than six feet, which is less, one meter eighty I think, if I remember my school history right."
"That's silly."
"Having one law that say's you have to do something, and another that say's you can't?"
"Yeah, that."
"There's lots of 'em. It's a total mess."
"Ììììì, what law mean?"
"Oh. That's gonna be another biggie to explain!"

"Morning." Chris's voice, from the kitchen.
"Morning?"
"Midnight plus thirty seconds, it is now morning. It's now tomorrow 'n' all."
As Chris spoke, there was the sound of drawer opening, the sound of rummaging around and then it closing.
"Thursday! Poker night!"
"Mmm, 'n' no Mark mucking around."
There was a metallic sound, almost as if someone was using a can opener.
"I know, I know, I know, but, it's always livelier when he's here."
"Well, that's one way of putting it."
"Don't agree?"
Chris sighed
"No, I guess you're right. He does bring a certain anarchic je ne sais quoi."
"So, tinned soup for lunch?"
"However did you guess?"
"I'm a medium."
"It says so in the back of your shirt?"
The microwave fired up.
"OK, it's an old gag."
"Old? I should think it's probably precambrian!"
"Well, this is a museum."
"True." Chris admitted "What've you got for lunch?"
"Sandwiches, and a salad. What flavour soup you got?"
"Oxtail with spirulina, and croutons."
"Exotic."
"Basically, it's beef with stuff plus crunchy bits."
"Crunchy bits, still sounds exotic, well, more exotic than slightly limp salad, at any rate. 'Sgot spirulina in, mind you."
"You do know you can just buy 'em, 'n' add 'em to stuff, right?"
"Hmm, might get some 'n' add 'em to my salad. Just to keep it fresh."
"Shake things up a bit."
"Exactly. How's it going in maintenance?"
"Meh. Hows it going here?"
"Well, the museum hasn't burned down ..... "
"Generally a good sign."
" ..... Mmm, no signs of robbery, break in, no accidental breakages, and no one's crashed into the building. At least not yet, but then the night's still young, so, maybe later."
"So, quiet, then."
"You know, it could almost be boring."
"But I am here to keep you entertained?" Pasha inquired.
"Err, well, I wouldn't've put it in those words, but ..... err ..... kinda? I guess? I mea, it ain't boring with you around, that's for sure."
"So, what Chris making?"
"A mess, knowing 'im."
"What he making, when he making mess?"
"Ask Chris, I think 'e's the one to explain that one."
"Chris being, ììììììììì, what word?"
"Devious? Shifty? ..... err ..... Evasive? Slippery? Opaque? Stonewalling?"
"Ìììììììììì ..... you look up on viewscreen."
"Guilty, it's, well, it's, you see, we have 'em so we don't need to remember everything. As long as you know how to work one, you can find out pretty much anything."
"Show me?"
Paul took a deep breath.
"What the hell, in for a cent, in for a euro."
Paul slid his viewscreen across the table to Pasha.
"It's a touch screen, what you do is ..... like this." Paul began.

[Toliman]

Read, txantsan. Good work

[archaic]

Part 133

Spoiler: Under cover.

"Morning Chris, still at it I see?" Kyle, breezily.
"Well, I'm not waiting out there for Mark, it's too bleedin' cold for silly buggers." Dino said, with considerable feeling.
"Nearly done." Chris, mildly exhausted.
"Really?"
"Mmm. Just wiring up the colour and brightness control doohickey for the LEDs"
"Pretty colors."
"Still fine tuning it. Here, you're in early?"
"Yeah, went to bed a bit earlier than normal, I just wasn't feeling it. Then went to the loo a bit after one A M. And couldn't get back to sleep. So, in the end, I gave up, and came to work. I like the pattern you got there, looks about right."
"Cheers. The kettle's there, cups, tea, it's granules I'm afraid"
"Oh well."
"Yeah, it's still miles better than the machine though."
"What isn't?"
"Being stabbed repeatedly by a maniac with a garden fork?"
"When you say 'Being stabbed repeatedly by a maniac with a garden fork' Do you mean the maniac is using a garden fork to stab me? Or I am being stabbed by an unspecified third party, while the maniac with the garden fork is coincidentally in close proximity, but is not directly involved in stabbing me?"
"Err, over thinking much?" Chris, kinda o O.
"Any whitener?" Kyle, changing the subject.
"Bugger, forgot that."
"I'll tippy toe, back in a mo' ..... " Kyle, conspiratorially " ..... Engage stealth mode!" he added in his best superhero voice.
Chris rolled is eyes as Kyle left. Which he did, heroically. At least it was in Kyle's mind. The pull on the cape was an imaginative touch, but then it was an imaginary cape.
He returned a few minutes later, clutching the whitener.
"Ever worry ..... " Dino began.
"I've been spending too much time working with Mark?" Kyle finished.
"Yeah."
"Meh ..... And in other news, mission accomplished!" Kyle flourished the whitener like a trophy.
"Very heroic. Pasha undisturbed?"
"Wide awake and practicing her writing."
Chris looked a little crest fallen.
"Well, in that case, I'm going for a nice sit down, I can watch the monitors too. In case any other damn fool decides to turn up at  zero dark twenty nine."
Dino stomped off, projecting a feeling of cold. Chris went back to his project, Kyle threw a cup of te together, and found himself fishing for the tea bag. After a some fruitless trawling with the spoon, he remembered that it was made with instant tea granules. He felt rather foolish, and hoped Chris was too busy to have noticed. Chris wan't, but he said nothing, possibly because he was too nice, or possibly because he couldn't think of anything sharp and pithy to say.
"One whitened tea, I won't do Mark's, coz he'll be on time."
"Not stoopid early?"
"Hour and, err ..... " Kyle consulted his viewscreen " ..... fifty six minutes."
"Plus chat, a whitener run, and that's two hours."
"Good as, yeah, alright, stoopid early, but with extenuating circumstances."
"Do I hear 'Diminished Responsibility'?"
"You know it!"
"Hmm."
"Hmm?"
"Mmm."
"Issues?"
"Err ..... " Chris referred to his viewscreen "Hmm, that doesn't look to good." he sounded concerned "Oh, hang on."
he fiddled with his vague heap of components, glanced back at the screen, before continueing "Bingo." he said as the LEDs all came on to a soft uniform glow "Remind you of anything?"
"No, not a thing. Apart from the bleedin' obvious! Obviously."
"Needs a bit of tidying."
"And the 'Understatement Of The Year' award, goes to Chris 'Professor Bongalides' Gillard, for his committed hard work and unwaveringly dedicated razor blade focused attention to every single possible detail, in untidying the maintenance shop."
"Just gimme twenty minutes."
"And your time starts ..... now!"
"Maybe half an hour."
"Whatever."
"Why don't you go talk to Pasha?"
"And help her with her English home work?"
"What ever floats your boat."
"Water?"
"And the 'Wise Ass Of The Year' award, goes to ..... "
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm going! I'm going!" Dino, as he left.
" ..... Bernardino Richardsen, for not making Mark a cup of tea, in case he's on time." Chris called after him.

"Well. Here it is."
"Wow! A slightly tattered rug! Out of lost property too. You shouldn't have, but, how ever did you know?" Dino, with an impressive level sarcasm.
Chris gave him a dirty look.
"Pasha, something became available, from some hells ancient lost property, I've done my best to resurrect it, and spruce it up a bit ..... and, well, here it is ..... what I've been working on for the last couple of nights. I hope it's OK."
Chris pulled the rug away.
Pasha looked amazed, stunned, shocked even.
"For me?" she whispered.
"Wouldn't've bothered with the LEDs 'n' the paint, for anyone else!"
Tears ran down Pasha's face, pooling a little at the lowest point of her rebreather's face mask.
It was a while before she felt up to lifting it to wipe her own face.
She took a deep breath, slid to the end of the bench, stood on her good leg, and took it.
"There's no nervous system, so you won't get sensations, but, it should make walking a little easier. Probably take a bit of getting used to. And as you get taller, there's an adjuster, but it's only a hundred and ten mil of adjustment, that'll need some reworking, at some point, further down the line. I hope it's comfortable, it's based on that scan, plus a bit of guess work, if I'm honest."
Pasha looked at the prosthetic leg, it's cyan with darker stripes, it's light blue LEDs that mimicked the patterns of 
Bioluminescent spots on her other leg.
"It's a mirror of your other leg. Well, more or less."
"It OK, Na'vi spots are not perfect mirror image, left to right. Similar, but not exactly same."
"Are the toes OK?"
"Yes, toes good, four, right number, gap in right place also."
"Yeah, I had to swap them around, as it arrived, it was the wrong leg, but the toes are obviously designed to be put either way round so it can be assembled to be either a left leg or a right leg, I just left out a toe, and made up a spacer on their 3D printer. Now, from what I understand, they take a little while to get used too."
Pasha slid her stump into the 3D printed socket. A 3D printed socket, that Chris had ordered in the name of Professor Bongalides.
"I understand you'll have some discomfort to start with."
Pasha looked up at Chris for a moment, before very cautiously put her weight on it. She looked down at it, took a deep breath, and, holding on to the edge of the table with one hand, took her first step.

[Toliman]

Very good, txantsan!

[archaic]

Part 134

Spoiler: Complete guesswork.

"Good evening, New British Museum, this is security, Francis Gonçalves speaking, how may I help you?"
"Guess."
"You'd like to order a McDonnalds?"
"No."
"You're here to make a confession?"
"Nope."
"You'd like an ice cream?"
"Erm ..... no!"
"Buy a ticket for the zoo?"
"No."
"You've lost your swimming trunks?"
"No."
"You'd like directions?"
"No."
"You want to report a violent assault?"
"No, I don't want to 'report' a violent assault."
"Was that intended as a thinly veiled a threat?"
"I was hoping to 'prevent' a violent assault."
"A likely story sir." Francis sounded unconvinced.
"I was hoping to get in out of this heat, and the scorching mid day sun!"
"It's January, and it's night time."
"Why wait till the last minute?"
"Fair enough. Can I take your name please?"
"Guess."
"Err, Ronald McDonald?"
"No."
"Father Christmas?"
"No."
"The Toothfairy?"
"Nope."
"Tinker Bell?"
"No."
"Titania, Queen of the Fairies?"
"Starting to worry about you and your sudden fixation on fairies."
"Cinderella?"
"No."
"Rumpelstiltskin?"
"No."
"Err, Isaac Newton?"
"Nope."
"Julius Ceaser?"
"No."
"Napolean?"
"Which one?"
"The second."
"No."
"The First?"
"No."
"Third?"
"Nope."
"Fourth?" Francis, tentatively, now clutching at straws.
"Not any Napoleon, Bonaparte, or otherwise."
"Ah, well, in that case you must be ..... Darth Vader!"
"You do realise Darth Vader's a fictional character, don't you?"
"Yeah, well, I have my doubts about this 'Professor Bongalides' bloke 'n' all. Err, Santa?"
"You said Father Christmas already?"
"Satan?"
"Getting warmer."
"The Archangel Gabriel?"
"Not exactly."
"God?"
"Yes. I'm god. Obviously. I am, God. Who else, would I be?" Chris, with a healthy dose of subtle, tongue in cheek sarcasm.
"Was that a question?"
"Yeah, so?"
"Well, isn't God all knowing, and therefore would he ..... "
"Or she."
" ..... yeah, or she, know the answer to any and all questions already?"
"Yeah, so?"
"You asked a question, even though you knew the answer already?"
"It was a rhetorical question."
"Ah, fair enough. Err ..... "
"Which department?"
"Oh yeah, 'Which department are you here to attend?"
"Guess."
"Hmm, well, if you're God, it's gonna be the world religions ..... or maybe ..... No, you're here to smite the creationist exhibition?"
"Not that that makes any sense, but, no."
"Oh, hang on, 'God', 'Omnipresent', it's all of them. It is, isn't it?"
"Yes my child. Now would you mind letting me in please, I'm freezing my commandments off out 'ere!" Chris, blowing into his clasped hands.
The buzzer sounded, and the door opened.

A few moments later, Chris appeared in the security suite.
"Evening."
"My god!"
"Yes, indeed I am! Apparently."
"Cold out there?"
"You know it."
"Hows the hypothermia?"
"Coming along nicely, thanks."
"So Chris, I hear our resident visitor now has two legs again."
"Yeah."
"All done! Wow, you didn't hang around!"
"I expect there'll be some glitches to fix yet, but, knock on wood, so far so good. Speaking of, is there anyone left in the building?"
"Just the five of us."
"Five?"
"You, me, Paul, Francis 'n' Pasha." Dino, with exaggerated patience.
"In that case, if you'll excuse me, I'll just pop up to Xenobiology."

"Kaltee." Chris, delivering the rebreather to Pasha, she was looking out of the window, across the balcony and over the city.
"Kaltxì." Pasha corrected, as soon as the face mask was seated.
"Err, Kaltxì?"
"Sran, much better!"
"And yeah, it it should be 'ìììiìììì[//i]', not 'errrrr', I know that. My bad."
"I not think that important very. Err, very important, even."
"How's the leg?"
"Which one?"
"The, err, the ..... ììì, the, the stump."
"Short." Pasha, pointedly.
"Any discomfort?"
"From, ììììì, prosthetic?"
"Mmm."
"Little. I get used to it, I expect."
"There's a kinda sock thing, it goes over the socket bit, and up your leg, it keeps it in place, I have ordered it. Two in fact. I guess they'll turn up when they turn up."
"Ììììììì, OK?"
"I had hoped they might've been delivered during the day today, but apparently, no such luck. Sorry about that."
"Leg?"
"Oh, uh, yeah, here ya' go." Chris, handing Pasha the prosthetic.
She slid in her stump.
"Poker." she said resolutely, and strode away, most convincingly, towing the suitcase rebreather behind her.
"I'll bring the crutch, just in case."
Pasha had left Chris still holding it.

"Evening gentlemen." Pasha said as she walked into security, looking remarkably at ease on her new leg.
"Pasha."
"Evening."
"Evenin'."
"Like the new leg!"
"Srane, much better than fresh air."
"But not the same as having your old leg back."
"Kehe. Who dealing?"
"Oe ke lu, err, dealer. What's dealer in Na'vi?"
"Ììììì ..... Kìte'eyu? Not good, but best I can think of."
"OK, would you be, err, what was it?"
"Kìte'eyu?"
"Yeah, would you be kitay-ay-you?"
Pasha smiled.
"It would be my honor." Pasha, graciously.
Pasha didn't win the hand. By her standards, it wasn't a particularly good night. That said, she still won.[/spolier]

[Toliman]

Read right now, very good work

[archaic]

Part 135

Spoiler: Frozen Ice Ridge, Eastern Antarctic Plateau.

"Good morning, New British Museum, this is security, Paul Ellings speaking, how may I help you?"
"Err, morning, err, not waiting out here for us this morning?"
"No, on the news, it says last night was the coldest for more than thirty years, minus six, with wind chill making it feel like minus twenty. And besides, Pasha's wide awake."
"OK, so let us in !"
"Name etc."
"Kyle Edgerton, and I can see Mark walking up now, so Marcus Dogboy ..... "
"Dagby! Git." Marcus, approaching the door.
"Insecurity, pass phraze is ..... "
"Beware your signs will find you out."
"You mean 'Beware your sins will find you out'?" Paul, over the intercom.
"Nah, there' a sign on the door, says, 'No milk today, have moved to Frozen Ice Ridge, Eastern Antarctic Plateau to warm up."
"Uh, hang on ..... Chris is trying to look suspiciously innocent."
"So, about his coming in thing?"
"Oh, yeah."
The buzzer sounded, and the door opened.

It wasn't long before Mark and Kyle appeared in security.
"Sweet jeeze[i/] it's cold out there!"
"And then some!"
"Tea's on the table."
"What, no cups again? Damn!"
"We're gonna have fun going home, then."
"If by 'fun' you mean frost bite, hypothermia, and the rest then, yeah! Fun, fun, fun!"
"So, hows the leg, Pasha?"
Pasha wriggled, and put her leg on the table.
"I meant the prosthetic." Mark, he sounded slightly embarrassed.
"I'm getting used to it, walking is much better than hopping around with one leg only." Pasha, holding out her augmented leg.
"OK, so, the LEDs are a nice touch."
"So, how did the poker go?"
"Pasha won ....."
"Well, no surprises there."
" ..... But only just, Dino was on top form, he almost won!"
"Yay Dino!"
"OK, it time to go back."
"So soon?"
Pasha pointed to the monitor wall.
"Candice."
"OK, we all know the drill, ply her with tea, stall 'er as long as you can."
Pasha was already striding purposefully away, her rebreather suitcase towed behind her. Chris had to sprint to catch up. He reached her just as she was stepping into the elevator.

"OK, I know you, what happened?"
"I recognised the way Candice walks, so I said I was out of there."
"I mean poker, you, well, for you you didn't do so well. Something wrong?"
Pasha sighed.
"Kehe, I always win, it not hard against humans, you can't keep secret that you have good cards. Or bad."
"Yeah, you said, we all have a tell that you can see, even if we can't. That gives you an edge, but last night, you had to fight to win, and ..... "
"And I pretended, I could've won more easily, but I afraid you all not play if I always just win."
" 'K, that's a legitimate concern."
They stood in silence, each leaning against the wall of the car. They slowed, and finally stopped, the doors opened. Chris was last in, and first out. He lead to the connecting door, opened if for Pasha, and followed her inside.
"I'll hide them, get the hell out, and back downstairs pronto."
Pasha took a deep breath, as she headed for her holding cell, slid off the face mask and leg, leaning her back against the door of the airlock. Free of the technology, she hopped uncomfortably inside, and hit the switch. Pumps pumped, valves clacked open and closed, finally air changed, she hopped into her chamber, closed the door. She activated the air to cycle back, from the unit behind the access panel un her chamber, you would never know that she had ever left her chamber.

[Toliman]

Txantsan, good work

[archaic]

So, this has taken way longer than I wanted it to.


Part 136

Spoiler: No weddings and a funeral.

It was Saturday morning, Pasha had gone to sleep earlier than usual the previous night, and was now wide awake.
There was an official notification that Jean and Candice from the Pandoran Research Lab would be in at zero five thirty, or a little before.
Pasha had overheard the chat Candice had given about the funeral, the arrangements were that Jean and Candice would be in early to feed Pasha. And, if necessary, clean out the vivarium. Pasha knew this would not be necessary, and why it would not, but decided not to pass on the relevant information. Instead she just leaned against the back wall of her vivarium, and smiled knowingly.
The rest of the team would be in at their usual time, apart from Warren, who didn't normally come in on a Saturday. This was generally seen as a blessed relief, and quite possibly the single best part of working on a Saturday. Warren was expected in some time between six and seven. Most of his commute to work was on trains, the section nearest to him was scheduled to have engineering works the whole weekend. A replacement bus service was in operation, but nobody had any illusions about what that really meant. Delays. Very possibly, very long delays. On the other hand, it was just possible you might be lucky, hence the broad window of possible arrival times.
"Good morning everyone." Warren, looking sheepish.
"Warren! Finally!" Candice, mildly exasperated, she looked at her watch "Oh seven, forty three."
"Bus broke down. Engineer took ages to arrive, and ages to fix it. Good job I decided to leave home a little earlier than I was going to."
"Well, the cars should be downstairs in twenty minutes, ish."
"When's the event?"
"Twelve. On the dot."
"Plenty of time."
"It's in Bournemouth."
"Ah."
Bournemouth was most one hundred and fifty miles away, expected journey time was around three and a half hours.
That allowed a very realistic thirty minutes for 'unexpected' delays, but no more.

The journey was fairly uneventful, they made good time, arriving five five minutes in hand.
Already at the Chapel of Rest were perhaps twenty of Geof's friends, as well as several members of Geof's family. Including his mother, Candice peeled off  from her colleagues to talk to her.
"Hi, I'm Ralph Stelling, doctor Ralph Stelling." doctor Ralph Stelling, introducing himself.
"Ah yes, the particle engineer?" Beth recognized him from his visit to the museum.
"Yes, that's right. Look, I hope, I know, it's, well, it's ..... " Ralph trailed off pathetically, he looked rather concerned.
"We don't blame you for Geof's death." Beth reassured.
"No, that's true, we do not. Hell we've been telling him to jump at the opportunity ever since it first came up!"
"I barely got know him." Ralf looked uncomfortable, fidgeting as he spoke.
"Really nice guy, properly smart too."
"Mmm, brought a mix of analytical mind and lateral thinking to the party, a rare combination."
"Look, I know there could hardly be a worse time, but I've been placed under a huge amount of pressure. The upper echelons of the PGRDA want the research to continue, they really believe in the potential of the material. It has a number of properties, that up until now, have been purest unobtainium. And the prospect of having to trek four point four light years to get it ..... well ..... they want something a little closer to home, with transport costs that are easier to stomach. Not to mention the, well, can you imagine trying to set up a mining and refining facility at an extreme arms reach like that?"
"Yeah, we know the RDA, they can be pushy."
"And lacking in tact or finesse."
"You can say that again!"
"Do you believe it's synthesizable?"
"Here on Earth?"
"Mmm."
"It should be, it has some constituents that will make it tricky, I can foresee that. I need to examine more specimens, figure out the conditions it formed in, then I need to find a way to repeatably replicate them. And, inevitably, scale up production. I'm under no illusions, it's not going to be easy, I've never encountered anything like it, hell we're still trying to understand exactly how it has all the properties it does. It's not going to be quick either. Or cheap, come to that. It could take decades, it could take a couple of hundred billion to do all the research necessary, and the resulting fabrication plant ..... Well, that's anyones guess at this point! Expect it to be high energy consumption. That's about all I can say with anything like any degree of certainty just now."
"I'll arrange to have the rocks shipped to you." Warren, helpfully.
"Candice is already on it, I think she said they coming to collect on Wednesday."
"Gives us time to weed out any that are already spoken for, and pack up the rest."
"Once again, I see my services are pointless." Warren, his nose slightly out of joint.
An elderly gentleman, in a black suit cleared his throat very pointedly, at the far end of the hall.
He turned and walked out of a tastefully formal doorway, the assembled crowd began to follow him.
"Hang on, we're going in."
"To tell the truth, I've never been a particularly big fan of funerals." Ralf confessed, mostly to thin air.
"Me either." Admitted Warren.

"Well that was a very moving service."
"It was, wasn't it?"
"Mmm."
"It was very nice of you to come and pay your respects, if a little unexpected, James."
"Mmm, look, as we're both here ..... "
"Here it comes."
" ..... I know it's hardly the most opportune juncture ..... "
"But."
" ..... You know you have my full support, on the board, you always have had ..... "
"Here it comes."
" ..... Well, you see, the other board members are keen to press ahead, with all ..... "
"You want me to slice and dice Pasha, and scatter their mortal remains to the four winds."
" ..... Distributed tissue analysis, and I thought we were referring to it as 'the PaSH'?"
"Call it what you will, but it's still a colossal waste, of what will almost certainly be a unique opportunity to study it as a living entity. And someone had taken the trouble of writing Pasha on the cryo's lid, without much doubt the last thing they ever wrote. And, well, it's kinda stuck."
"Oh, well, I know this isn't ....."
"No, it isn't. You're talking about killing it as if it's nothing. And you're doing so at the funeral of a very dear friend of mine, quite frankly bringing more death to this party has to be quite possibly the most thoughtless, heartless and quite frankly callas bits of crass, insensitive blundering I have ever had the misfortune to be even tangentially involved in. Now, I've know you for a bleeding long old time, mister, and I can recall a fair few bungled pieces of social ineptitude on your part, way back in your youth. So could you please show some sodding respect? Or is that really too much to ask?"
"I've over stepped the mark."
"You think?"
James and Candice suddenly became aware that conversations around the room had ended, everyone was looking in their direction. While relatively few would have had any clue as to what their 'discussion' had been about, there was, however, and unspoken but unanimous opinion, that this was neither the time or place for it.
"James, will you accompany me to the bar, and leave this discussion for another time?"
"Candice ..... " James began seriously.
He saw the expression she flashed at him, and recalled an occasion at school when he'd ignored that same flashed expression. It hadn't been a good idea then, and James decide not to push his luck.
" ..... that sounds like an excellent idea, lets." He sagged.

[Toliman]

Read right now, txantsana pamrel

[archaic]

Part 137

Spoiler: The value of a sneeze.

"Good morning Warren how was your weekend?"
"Apart from Saturday? I mean! Well, frankly, I, I cannot believe your friend, that kind of tactless display, seriously, discussing work at a colleague's funeral, of all the ill judged whatsits! I ask you! Could he have bee any more ..... "
Candice held up he hand.
"What?" Warren demanded, indignant that he had been cut off mid rant.
"You! You misread that completely."
"Oh? And what exactly did I misread, exactly?"
"Oh lord, look, if you ever wanted to get any kind of promotion, you need to level up your situation reading skills, ot to mention develop the ability to read between the lines!"
"And what does that mean."
"Well, in dumb ass speak, James knows and understands my position on euthanizing Pasha, and scattering her mortal remains to the four corners of the solar system, so that every par time, back street researcher can fool around with a handful of her cells. Which is all well and good for them. But ..... "Candice took a deep breath " ..... it would be to flush the opportunity to study a live specimen, down the crapper! James has been put under pressure by the other board members to put me under pressure, to get on with the slicing and dicing. By pulling that stunt, there is now an embarrassment attached to it. An embarrassment that, with a bit of luck, should've bought us at least another six months, perhaps even as much as a year. For which, I'm genuinely most grateful."
"Err ..... "
"And you thought he was just being a knob?!"
"Err ..... "
"You did, didn't you?"
"Yes! OK! I did!" Warren, sounding flustered.
"Mmm."


The next few months passed remarkably uneventfully, Chris actually won a poker night, amid cries of "FIX!" from the other players (apart from Pasha). Pasha maintained an otherwise unbeaten record, even if there were a number of very close calls. At least they appeared to be close calls.
Pasha became more and more natural on her prosthetic leg, never again using the crutch. At least not for it's intended purpose. Which, as Pasha grew almost four inches in height, Chris adjusted the leg several times to keep her legs the same length. More or less.
The year turned, the ice cold rain of winter gave way to the chill rains of spring, and then the cool and refreshing rain of early summer. Dawn became earlier in the day, sunsets came later. There were more people out and about late at night, especially on a Friday night. And Saturday morning, come to that.
There were more tears. Little things can trigger memories, some of them hit her hard. There were more than a few occasions where she needed a shoulder to cry on, and a few where she just needed to be alone.
Easter fell on Mach thirtieth that year, and needed a lot of explaining. Some of which revealed a serious lack of knowledge on the subject, there had been a lot of umming and erring, a fair amount of changing the subject, and a good deal of referring Pasha to ask Francis. He seamed to know a worryingly large about about religious stuff, especially Christianity. Which might've been seen as a surprise for someone who was 'Permanently excluded' from Sunday school at the age of six. It might've been, but as the overall background level for surprise was generally quite high, especially considering the presence of a young-ish alien child from primitive, pre-stone age culture. She'd got the hang of watching things on various borrowed viewscreens. Except on Thursdays. She'd very much got the hang of them, and had even ended up fixing one of two of them for less tech orientated members of the security team. So the whole Francis/religious expertise/sunday school expulsion thing, was just lost in the backgound.

It was Friday the thirteenth of June, Pasha had won the previous night's Poker, the twenty fifth since she'd been reanimated. Moe was on holiday in Portugal, he was rostered to be on nights, so it was no surprise that it was Chris that was doing four nights overtime to cover for him.
"Good morning, New British Museum, this is security, Raul Diatta speaking, how may I help you?"
"Evening." Chris, nonchalantly.
"Huh?
"It's evening, I'd let afternoon slide, but morning doesn't cut it."
"Oh, err ..... Good evening, New British Museum, this is security, Raul Diatta speaking, how may I help you?"
"Professor Bongalides ..... " Chris claimed " ..... Security." He finished lamely, suddenly finding himself bereft of inspiration.
"Whatever."
The buzzer sounded, and the door opened.

Several moments later, Chris arrived in the security suite.
"Evening Chris."
"Is it? I just had a conversation with this guy who said it was morning!"
"Yeah, you're not gonna let that go, are you‽"
"Nope!"
"Tea's on the table. In a cup, on the table."
"Just the way I like it!"
"I'll get you a straw, then you won't have to lift the cup off the table and ruin it, then shall I?"
"Vengeance is a Raul's, I see."
"Yep. Oh, there's a message, Larry's been rushed to hospital, they're keeping him in over night, for observations. Hunter's gonna sort something out, can't have you getting lonely here by yourself, can we?"
"It's OK, I'll have Pasha for company."
"And as far as Hunter knows, Pasha stays in her box, just like every other lump of meat on site."
"I wonder who he'll send."
"Well, Mark and Kyle are in in the morning, so it ain't gonna be them, that dodgy Gillard bloke's already off someplace, doing Christ knows what. So that leaves Paul 'n' Dino as the prime suspects, with Francis as just a person of interest."
"Hmm, I have a vague recollection Paul 'n' Scott were going to the Crown and Flint this evening."
"Very romantic! I'm so very almost jealous, and yet somehow not!"
"Nah, something to do with Scott's junk shop mate. More Junk, less, just plain different junk, I dunno. He mentioned it in passing like, a week ago! And I wasn't paying that much attention, to be honest."
"I see. So ..... Most likely Dino, or maybe Francis."
"Mmm, do we know what's up with Larry, I hope it's nothing serious."
"You know what I know. At least on that subject. I mean, there are things I know that you don't, but they're unrelated."
"To the topic in hand?"
"I dunno what you're doing with your Topic mate. Quite frankly, I'd rather keep it that way!"
"Funny. So, what have you done with mister Sissons?"
"That's for me to know, and you to find out!"
"Did it involve a bowl of beans and a nice chianti?"
"Habeas corpus!"
"Hang on, I'll administer some laxatives."
"Over my dead body!"
"Or possibly mister Sisson's."
"That's just a rumour! You can't prove nothing!" Raul said with relish.
"I don't have to, some Arab bloke already proved nothing, wrote a book all about it 'n' all."
"Sounds like a thrilling read."
"Wouldn't know, I've had nothing to do with it!"
"Right, well, that's the exhibits team finally gone for the night!" Tony, stepping into the Security suite.
"OK! I confess! I killed him and ate him." Raul confessed.
"That's a politicians promise, and you know it!" countered Chris.
"Am I missing something?"
"Liver, possibly?"
"Huh?"
"Don't ask."
"Don't ask what?"
"Evening Pasha."
"Evening Pasha."
"Evening Pash."
"Evening guys. No Larry yet?"
Pasha sneezed.
"Can't make it tonight."
She took a deep breath, lifted the face mask and wiped the inside of the visor carefully with a tissue. She handed it to Raul.
"Alien sneeze." Raul looked mildly disgusted, took the offending tissue between thumb and fore finger, taking care not to let it touch any other fingers, he dropped it in the waste bin beside him, and wiped his finger tips on his leg, rather theactrically.
"Pansy!"
"Apparently Larry's been taken to hospital, they're keeping him over night for observations."
"Poor Larry, Nothing serious I hope? Any word about his family?"
"That's all we got."
"At least at the moment."
"Well, it is Friday the Thirteenth."
"Oh, so Freddy's got 'im?"
"Not the movie, Tony!"
"Oh!" Tony, pretending to be genuinely surprised by this.
"Jason. Even."
"Whatever."
"OK, museum rules, no one is left on their own on site One of us'll have to stay till Larry's replacement gets here."
"I'll stay!" Tony volunteered, a little too quickly.
"Not even gonna ask!"
"But you could thank me?"
"Thank you, no, thank you! No, seriously, its you doing me the favour here."
"Remember when I said 'Not even gonna ask'?"
"Yeah?"
"Still." Raul, ducking out  "Night!" came his rapidly receding, disembodied voice.
"So, what'll it be tonight?"
"Emancipation?"
Chris found something on his viewscreen, and slid it across the table.
"There go."
"Thanks."
"In this edition, we'll be examining Shylocks speech from Shakespeare's the Merchant of Venice. The background of xenophobia and antisemitism within the context of time and place. And how it continues to inspire later generations in their fight for recognition and equality." Came a voice from the viewscreen.
Chris and Tony exchanged glances.
"You know, Pasha could do with her own viewscreen."
"Got any spare?"
"No, but I bet you'd find someone stupid enough to pay good money for a genuine alien sneeze in a tissue. Mind you, you'd probly get money for a regular human sneeze filled tissue, come to that."
"Na'vi snot."
"Kxumpay ontuä."
"I'll add that to the listing ..... Genuine alien sneeze in a tissue, from a real Pandoran humanoid. "
"Eywa Eveng, Na'vi ulte."
"Yeah I know that, but they don't."
"Meh."
"Err, known as kxumpay ontuä to the natives, this very unique artefact is the only one for sale anyplace in the solar system, and may well be the only one outside of Pandora."
"It isn't. Geof and Jean have both collected them for research purposes."
"They don't know that. Besides, I only said it 'may well be'. I never said it actually was."
"Sneaky, I like it!"

I've jumped a large amount, all the important pieces were in place, and nothing much was going to happen until this point in the story.

Also, I've taken a bit of a liberty with a piece of Na'vi, my bad. If there's a better alternative I'll change it in a heartbeat.

Edit:- Now amended, ontu kxumpay to kxumpay ontuä.
A massive thank you to Vawmataw and Toliman for the correction!

[Toliman]

Txantsan, very good

[archaic]

So, I used 'Ontu kxumpay' to mean Na'vi nasal mucus, care to share opinions on this?

I did look, but I couldn't find anything canon.

[Toliman]

Ontu kxumpay is a good idea, Na'vi term for nasal mucus we really have not yet... maybe I would say "Kxumpay ontuyä"

[Vawmataw]

Ontu kxumpay is a good idea, Na'vi term for nasal mucus we really have not yet... maybe I would say "Kxumpay ontuyä"

rather kxumpay ontuä because ä after -u

[Toliman]

Oops Yeah, kxumpay ontuä is right.

[archaic]

Changed.


I'm struggling with writers block again, I'll post as soon as it's postable.

[Toliman]

Good luck with writing