Author's Notes: Quick cheat sheet for everybody: I changed all the names.
Grace Hammond...Hamlet
Horatio Wren...Horatio
Rose...Rosencrantz
Gordon...Guildenstern
Joanna Poulsen...Ophelia
Leith Poulsen...Laertes
Dr. Poulsen...Polonius
Chancellor Hammond...Hamlet Sr.
Maraam Kilroy...Gertrude
Ansel Claude...Claudius
Chief Forkin...Fortinbras
...:::...
Act 1, Scene 1
...:::...
"You're late! Why are you so late!? You have to catch up now-here!" Grace almost tackled Wren as he approached the tall table his friends were already seated around. Pushing a drink into his hand, she kissed him on the cheek and pointed at the open stool next to hers. "I've been ordering drinks for four people since we got here, so you have some work to do, my friend…"
Wren made a show of stretching his neck and rolling his shoulders as if he were preparing for a fight. "Okay. I'm on it. But first things first..." Bypassing the seat saved for him, he set the drink Grace had handed him down on the table and enveloped the guest of honor in a hug. "Congratulations, Joey," he said warmly.
"Thank you!" Jo replied, returning the embrace tightly. "And thank you for coming out tonight to celebrate!"
"Wouldn't miss it," he said, his smile fading slightly as he sat down and realized how much alcohol he had waiting for him. "Well this explains why you practically fell into my arms a second ago," Wren said, tilting his head toward Grace, but not taking his eyes off the array of full drink glasses in front of him. "You've already had this much to drink?"
"It's a special occasion!" Grace insisted, raising her own drink in the direction of Jo. "We're here to celebrate Jo's graduation!"
"And here I thought we were celebrating her new job!" Rose chimed in, raising her glass towards Grace's.
"We're being thrifty and using her graduation drinks to also celebrate her job," Gordon said, offering a solution that allowed both women to be correct. His voice was almost too quiet to be heard over the increasing noise in the pub, so Rose reached out and turned up the volume on his virtual reality hologram pod. "To Jo!" came through much louder, and Gordon raised an empty, translucent hand, his fingers curled as if he were holding a glass like the others.
"To Jo!" Wren agreed, joining in the toast. Despite Gordon's non corporeal form, everyone around the table inclusively brought their glass close enough that they would have tapped his outstretched hand if they'd been physically able to do so. Wren brought his glass back to his mouth, and Grace quickly placed her hand under the bottom of it, preventing him from lowering it back down.
"Catch up! Catch up!" she coaxed, teasing.
Wren batted her hand away, and coughed, setting his now half-finished drink down. "Remind me not to show up late to these parties anymore," he managed, shaking his head and coughing again.
"Yeah, why the tardiness?" Grace asked. "You're usually Mr. Punctuality?"
"I had the archives pulled up and totally lost track of the time."
"Give us a call next time," Rose said, pointing at the others. "These three were convinced you'd gotten run over by an SDC."
"There hasn't been an injury due to a self driving car in over eighty years, guys," Wren said, rolling his eyes.
"Okay, then why didn't you call?" Grace asked, nudging his drink closer as a hint.
Wren wrinkled his nose apologetically. "My Device is dead. I must have forgotten to dock it when I got to the library."
"Yours dies by late afternoon if you don't charge it? What's wrong with it?" Grace asked as he pulled his outdated Device from his pocket and tossed it like a lifeless brick onto the table. "Oh, well that's why," Grace said, rolling her eyes and prodding Wren in the side. "I can't believe you're still using one of the old Devices! The keypads only light in one direction, they have limited resolution for inter-hab holograms, and the new ID Chip med upgrades have made half the storage capacity on that thing redundant!" Grace pulled her own Device from her pocket. "The new ones have been out for almost a year, dude," she pointed out, reaching for Wren's to compare the two.
Wren's reflexes weren't dulled by alcohol, so he snatched his Device from the table before his friend could reach it. Raising an eyebrow, he curled the thin electronic box in against his chest defensively. "Maybe I like my old Device," he said, narrowing his eyes playfully. "And besides, those new ones weren't just handed out with the monthly staples, Grace. The Wealth Distribution Equality Act evened the playing field a little, but it didn't stop the rich from being rich. Not everyone's family invested in scandium in the twenties!" he teased, amidst hoots and whistles as everyone pretended to be scandalized by his jab.
Grace bowed her head and held up her hands in defeat with a smile. "Okay, okay, you're right, I'm sorry." Wren's family was among the comfortable class that received Humanity Staples each month: food, clothing, and other goods necessary to ensure every citizen was healthy and provided for, preventing poverty and suffering in society. Since more than seventy percent of the population received these benefits, it wasn't unusual or cause for embarrassment, but Wren loved giving Grace a hard time about the fact that she'd grown up without them. The Hammonds were one of the richest families in the Denmark Habitat, due mostly to an inherited fortune that had been passed down through the last few generations.
"So, how does it feel to be officially out of school with a degree and a job?" Rose asked, leaning around Gordon to look at Jo. With an exaggerated pout, she added, "I only ask because-despite being the youngest person at this table by several years-you're the only one who has achieved this distinction."
"Rose, seriously, did you have to remind us all about that?" Wren asked, wrinkling his nose.
"I have a job," Gordon pointed out.
"Okay, yes, you do, technically," Rose corrected herself. "You're the highest paid lab rat on Earth." She winked, puckered her lips at his hologram, and blew a kiss in his direction. Passing his hand through hers where it rested on the table as if he could have grabbed it, he smiled back.
Jo took a sip of her drink and shook her head. "The only reason you three are all still in school is because you're working on masters degrees. Or a doctorate!" she added, looking at Rose.
"Be that as it may," Grace interrupted, "it's still incredibly impressive that by twenty-one years old you've managed to graduate with full honors, win a Progression Award for your ideas in-in… Don't tell me… in...?"
Jo let her friend struggle for a moment with an amused smile on her face before putting poor Grace out of her misery. "Sustainable Mimics and Apiary-Dependent Agriculture," Jo supplied. Grace had never been able to remember the details of Jo's chosen field of study. Wren always joked that Jo didn't have a green thumb; her entire right arm was green, while Grace couldn't even manage to regularly dust the fake plants in her living room.
"Yes-that-and secure an amazing job with the Den's local environment department." Grace grinned across the table, and Jo bit her lip and frantically prayed that the flush in her cheeks wasn't terribly noticeable in the dim light. "I used to think of you as an adorable kid sister, but these days the age gap seems like it's all but disappeared. You're an awesome human being, Jo, and we're so lucky to have you in our lives. To Jo!" she finished with a flourish, and raised her glass, prompting the others to do the same.
"You're going to need more drinks soon," Gordon pointed out, waving an ineffectual hand through the empty glassware littering the table.
"If I have too many more, I won't be able to find my way home," Jo protested. "I'll end up sleeping here at the Nunnery!"
"No, no-" Grace protested. "We've got you covered. Rose is responsible when it comes to personal portion control, and Gordon's got a full charge, so even though Wren and I will be completely useless to you by the end of the night, those two-" Grace pointed at the pair seated between Jo and herself. "-will get you home safe and sound."
With a sigh and a smile, Jo gave in. "Okay, one more, but can we make this one a little lighter than the last few?"
"Nope, we are welcoming you into our little grown-up gang with the full-octane stuff," Grace said immediately, elbowing Wren to catch the server behind him. "We need five aviations here, and another basket of the buffalo kale chips!" she called in the direction of the server, shouting above the increasing noise in the pub.
Before the order could be confirmed, Wren spun on his stool and caught the server with a smile. "I'm sorry," he said, leaning toward her. "I'm sure my friend here meant to say please, but she was raised in a terribly backwards household, and we're only just now beginning to civilize her." Wren rolled his eyes and continued, "Doesn't ask for things nicely; look at her-doesn't even take her hat off indoors-talks with her mouth full…" Wren's smile grew as the server's stressed frown slipped, and the corners of her lips began to turn up. "We'd love five aviations when you get a chance, but there's no rush, since we're celebrating; we don't want the party to end too early…"
With a nod and a genuine smile, the server disappeared back into the crowd.
"What, no number? No date? No invitation back to your place this evening?" Grace teased.
"We're here for Jo tonight, Grace, I'm trying to not monopolize the attention," Wren said with a self-satisfied smile, tapping the front brim of Grace's hat down over her eyes. She swatted blindly at his hand and quickly adjusted it in order to see again. "Besides, I know where she works," Wren added, gesturing around them. "When I want a date, I'll just come back and ask her then."
"Ugh, you are such an egotistical flirt," Grace groaned, rolling her eyes.
"Is there a problem with that?" Wren asked.
"Well...you could be a bit more selective," Rose suggested. When Wren raised his eyebrows questioningly, she continued, "It's just that it's hard to take you seriously when you flirt so shamelessly with everyone. Basically anything that moves. And even then, I think you would bend that rule and turn your charms on an inflatable cactus if that was the only thing in the room and you were bored."
Gordon laughed and nodded enthusiastically. "I think I actually saw that happen once at one of the Tozer parties last year."
"Oh, come on!" Wren tossed a cardboard drink coaster through his friend, feeling abandoned. It sailed wildly into the back of another patron's head, and Wren shouted a hasty apology at the glaring man. Turning back to Grace and Rose, he said primly, "I take offense to that, ladies. My standards are much higher than 'anything that moves.' By your estimation, that would include transports, Leith Poulsen, and that little plastic drinking bird in a top hat that sits on Grace's desk."
"Oh-no-no, wait, uh-uh…" Rose suddenly pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes as if trying to push out an image. "Now I'm imagining Leith trying to flirt."
This was met by a rousing chorus of laughter and horror, followed by several impressions of what an amorous Leith might entail, the most successful of which was performed by his sister.
"Good evening," Jo said, barely suppressing a smile as she pretended to greet Grace with a comically deepened voice, rounding the table toward her. "My name is Leith Poulsen, and I've taken the liberty of sending my CV to your Device. I saw you here last night, and since I never begin an undertaking without thoroughly checking the background of those individuals involved, I used my security clearance with the Habitat Government to run facial recognition on you this morning when I arrived at the office at seven a.m. sharp." Amidst snorts of laughter, Jo extended a stiff hand toward Grace and cupped her cheek awkwardly as she stepped closer. "And what a symmetrical face it is, too."
"Uggghh!" Grace gave a shudder and squeezed her eyes closed. "Ew, I feel dirty. Do they have shower stalls in the restrooms here?" she cried desperately, swatting Jo's hand away. Jo moved to return to her seat on the other side of the table, but Grace slid a hand around her waist and scooted over, pulling Jo close enough to share her wide stool.
"That was good, Jo," Wren admitted, "but I think Leith would use more four- and five-syllable words to really turn a lady on-"
"People do seem to underestimate the seductive power of a good vocabulary." The deep voice startled the group at the table, and everyone looked up in surprise to see Leith standing several steps away, easily missed in the dim lighting and thick crowd of the pub.
Wren was the first to recover, smoothly stating, "I don't underestimate it. In fact, I myself have been accused of circumlocution on occasion."
"Well, that's a big word," Rose said quickly, thoroughly grateful for the conversational distraction as Jo slid quickly off of Grace's stool to greet her big brother.
"Sounds dirty," Gordon whispered theatrically, joining in.
"It certainly is a big word," Wren agreed, puffing up his chest proudly. "I know lots of big words. In fact, I don't mean to brag, but some have even said that the size of my-"
"No, no-" Grace cut him off. "Whatever you're going to say? Don't. I don't want to hear some thinly veiled double entendre that demonstrates just how witty you are," she explained, turning from the table toward the new member of their party. "Leith! It's been too long. I see you're still adept at sneaking up on people in an incredibly creepy way?"
Leith didn't respond as Grace leaned in to give him a quick, cursory hug devoid of emotion, which was returned in similar awkward fashion. Grace and Leith-though closer in age than Grace and Jo-had never gotten along. Grace loved life, and the pursuit of knowledge, and the thousand beautiful things that popped into her head at any given moment during the day, and she found Leith to be incredibly dull and straight-laced. As kids, on more than one occasion, Leith had discovered some stunt or hijinks she'd planned, and he had invariably tattled on her to the nearest authority figure. Worse still, he never seemed to feel a moment's remorse about it. As teenagers, he would debunk her theories and plans of adventure with a straight face and a stern affect, scolding her about breaking rules and not taking life seriously.
Worst of all, Grace hated that he didn't see what a wonderful father he had. Dr. Poulsen was the perfect dad as far as she was concerned, and yet Leith seemed to only have disappointment-bordering on contempt-for him. He'd never bothered to hide the fact that he considered Dr. Poulsen's appointment as a clinic physician in a generic Community Habitat to be an embarrassing waste of talent. The Medical Habitat, in Leith's opinion, was the only appropriate place to be for any doctor worth their salt. The stereotypical Community doctor was past their prime, or too stupid to have made it in the Medical Habitat environment. Grace knew neither of those things described Dr. Poulsen, but his son seemed staunchly opposed to being proud of his father.
And disrespecting Dr. P was something Grace had never been able to abide.
Leith nodded a silent greeting to both Rose and Gordon before turning to Wren. "Horace." Leith offered his hand. Wren's jaw clenched slightly, and there was a moment's hesitation before he reached out and accepted the handshake.
"You know, your dedication to calling me by my first name over the years would be admirable if it weren't so annoying," he pointed out.
Leith frowned. "I suppose I just feel that going by one's last name denotes a certain impersonality."
"Impersonality? Look who's talk-" Grace's mumbled dig was cut short as Rose kicked her under the table.
"And the usual convention has always been to create a nickname from your given name, not your family name," Leith added.
"Oh, yes, please enlighten me," Wren said testily. "What nickname do you think I should go by? 'Convention', as you suggest, typically forms the nickname by shortening the name-taking either the beginning or the end. Occasionally adding a -y. That leaves me with 'Whore' and 'Rass.' Neither of which improves with the addition of the afore-mentioned -y." Wren turned back to the table with a sour look on his face and reached for his half-empty glass.
"Do you have a middle na-?"
"Barnardo," Wren said miserably into his drink before finishing it with one large swallow. Setting the empty glass down on the table, he gave a single, quick shake of his head. "So not better."
"Well, I think 'Wren' suits you," Rose said. "And since it's all I've ever called you, switching now would be next to impossible, so I think you're stuck as far as I'm concerned."
"Here, too," Gordon agreed, raising a finger to be counted.
"Yep, totally stuck," Grace agreed with a smile, leaning over and throwing an arm across Wren's shoulders.
"He'll never switch," Jo said, shooting her brother a patient smile. "He'll call you Horace until the day he dies. Just like he'll never call me anything but Joanna."
"Well, he can call you whatever he wants to; you'll always be Jo to us," Grace said, as their server arrived at the table carrying a large tray of vaguely blue drinks in martini glasses. "And today, officially, you are 'Jo The Graduate', so-" Grace passed the glasses around the table, and offered the back of her hand to the waiter to be scanned. "-I propose yet another toast-"
"This is the fourth one!" Jo lamented, slightly embarrassed at the attention. She accepted the drink Grace handed to her while Gordon offered Leith one of the drinks in Wren's backlog, since Grace hadn't ordered enough to include the new addition to their party. Leith gave him a polite nod of thanks.
"-another toast-" Grace repeated, her voice increasing in volume, "-to the newest member of the Den's work force, the sweetest person I know, and one hell of a kickass environmentalist… Jo Poulsen!"
A resounding chorus of various shouted congratulations erupted from the table as the cocktails were held aloft and clinked over the center of the table.
Jo grinned as she took a generous swallow of her drink and set it down decisively on the table. "I'll be right back," she announced.
"No! Where are you going?" Grace asked, winding her arms around Jo's waist again and tugging her back onto their previously shared stool. "This is your party-there's no way I'm letting you up. The last time you did this you tried to buy a round for all of us, and that's not gonna happen tonight."
Jo smiled as Grace hugged her tighter and swept Jo's hair to one side to rest her chin on her shoulder.
"My bladder kindly requests you let me leave the table," Jo explained. "I'll be right back-no funny business, I promise."
"Oh, okay, fine," Grace grumbled, teasing. "I guess if you have to…" Jo was released, and she made a beeline for the back of the dark stone hall.
The Nunnery wasn't the only bar in the Den, but it was certainly the most interesting, and the most expensive. Years ago, as the habitats were first being constructed, teams of experts were assembled to collect and preserve the works of art around the globe that hadn't been destroyed in the wars. Paintings, sculptures, and even buildings of cultural significance were assigned to each habitat, while the great libraries of the world were plundered for copies of as many books as possible. The University habitat housed the main collection of literature, but the entire population was able to access digital copies of everything on any Device.
The Nunnery was one of six relocated buildings brought into the Den and reconstructed, piece by piece. The old, repurposed cathedral was a small one, by historical standards, but impressive nonetheless: nothing in the Den remotely resembled the old, worn stone walls, or the steep, gothic struts that climbed alongside the towers on top. The stained glass windows made rainbows dance on the walls if the sun hit them at the right angle in the afternoon, and the mix of hanging lanterns, candelabras, and chandeliers made for a dim, other-worldly atmosphere at night that was like nowhere else. The standard lighting in every other structure in the Den was tested, and uniform, and optimal, and the gloom of the Nunnery was delightfully mysterious.
Jo pushed the door of the restroom open when she was done and ran straight into her big brother.
"Oh-excuse me, I'm sorry-" Jo stepped back from the broad chest she'd collided with and looked up. "Leith? What are you doing back here? The men's room is over on the south wall-"
Leith looked down at his sister seriously. "Your infatuation with Grace Hammond needs to end. Now."
...:::...
TBC.