Chapter 25 – One Day More
(A/N – Well, in the absence of other feedback, I must conclude that everybody loves this storyline (or else I've scared everyone away) and that nobody wants to change a single thing. Oh, and since there are people who need a visual, I'm seeing mostly the Australian Cast of Love Never Dies in my head, except the Daroga. My Daroga? Picture Ramin Karimloo, add about ten years in age, lengthen the hair a few inches, add some strands of silver-grey to the hair (in streaks by the temples), and maybe sharpen the wits up JUST a little. Yummy! But then, I've always gone for the proverbial tall, dark, and handsome. So, OK, we continue on this path, although I must admit, I thought I had buried that Mystic streak YEARS ago -)
It was two days till the wedding. Erik was burying himself in details (mostly to deny to himself that he was as nervous as a mouse at a cat convention,) Madame Giry had gotten off the boat, heard Christine out, and then glued herself to Christine's side in support, the Park Staff were all taking turns either setting up the park for the wedding, working on the church, or planning aspects of the wedding breakfast, (most of the women were cooking something or other special), Tia was obviously overworking, (she had insisted on making up the outfits for Erik, Christine, and Gustave – but she had let Erik give her the initial design sketches), with a temper as touchy as a lit fuse, and the Daroga was about ready to curse, he still could find not one fact about Tia's past before she got to New York.
/It is time,/ thought the Daroga, somewhat grimly. /to solve this mystery./ He was ready. He had managed, with some difficulty, to talk the seal ring off Erik's finger (for the night), since it seemed like there was no other way into 1111 Surf without Tia letting you in, and he'd still never gotten past the entry parlor. He knew, somehow, that the answers he sought were all in that house somewhere, and the ring was the only door key. (He had already tried, and failed, to pick the lock.)
Sure enough, with the ring pressed in the door slot, the door opened without so much as a creak of hinges. He got past the entry hall, and the front parlor, only to hear music such as he'd never heard before, coming from down the small hall, where a light shone in the far room.
Sure enough, Tia was there, working with 2 dressmakers dummies, (kneeling in front of one with a long, sharp, needle in one hand) while a device that looked like a barely 4 inch black ball on a nearby small table seemed to be the source of the sound, which was at least as loud as having an orchestra in the same room. As he peered around the doorjamb she said, (obviously not to him,) "Y'know, Ciara, I wish we'd taken the Longs up on their offer of a fabric extruder, this stuff is bloody hard to work with!"
An alto voice seemed to come out of that same black ball, while the sound volume muted down a notch. "You were the one insisting on using Kevlar –"
"I know, I know, but, you know why – it's-"
"Stronger than steel, and bulletproof, AND makes a good floatation device, yeah, I know. Hang in there, you're nearly done. And then you're going to take a break, or you'll be an utter WITCH by the wedding, and we need to be at our most alert. Just because Darius can't shoot them in these outfits –"
That was enough for the Daroga. "Who is Darius, and why would he be shooting at anyone?"
Tia jolted, then growled, (again, not at him) "Ciara, WHY did you let him in? I don't have time for this! I have WORK to do!"
"You have, " and a grinding noise game over the speaker "all the time you need – I just put MYSELF on hover, and, I should have done this DAYS ago, so you could get some sleep! Now reassure the nice man that neither he nor you are crazy. The hemming on Christine's gown can WAIT a few minutes."
Tia grumbled her agreement, put up the needle she'd been using, and got up off the floor, only to sink into a nearby chair. "Sit down, Daroga; this will take some time to explain."
It took hours. Oh, not to explain the concept, but to convince Nadir Khan that he HADN'T wandered into "some opium dream." They had to give him a complete tour of Ciara, and let him browse the research library (and the family pictures-). When she finally had him convinced, she let Ciara explain why he couldn't go out the door just yet –"Daroga, this is a time ship, and we're not re-entering the time stream until Tia has A. Gotten some rest and B. Finished that dress. She's been too busy with details to think straight for days, if not weeks. Relax, this is the one instance where the world will wait for us –" while she dozed in her chair, not even realizing that she was drifting off.
Some little time later, Ciara cleared her "throat", "Daroga, I am aware by your standards I have no right to ask anything of you, but, Tia CAN'T really rest like that, and I have no hands to effect a transfer to her bed. Will you help?"
Since her room was the one part of the ship that was off limits on the "tour", and he wanted to see if there was anything unusual in there, he agreed to help. First he rolled the chair, with Tia still asleep in it – to her door, which Ciara opened for him. It was a rather large bedroom, with a life-size portrait (actually a photograph) hanging across from the bed. It appeared to be a family shot, with Erik, a tall handsome brunette man, a semi-tall blond woman, and some five children, of years varying from about twelve for the oldest boy to about six for the youngest girl, who had a mischievous smile on her face and her hair in a single braid to her left, (which was, usually, how Tia wore her hair.)
"No Christine, I see." Was his comment to Ciara, who had taken over the explaining, once Tia was too tired to be coherent.
"That, Daroga, is EXACTLY what we're trying to change – but in the timeline we came from, by the time that picture was taken, she'd been dead and buried for a very long time."
The Daroga swiftly and efficiently managed the transfer of girl to bed – and then quietly retreated back down the hall. He wanted another look at that research library, plus some of those special jewelry pieces in there – especially since he evidently had some time before he could go back to his own (small) house.
By the time Tia had finally tied off the last stitch, he had gotten a fair way into her research notes, and was starting to admire the organized mind that had written them. /She thinks a lot like my Fetinah used to./ he noted to himself.
Tia looked up from her fussing with the now-completed garments at that point. "I do apologize that you were effectively trapped here with no warning, but if you will open doors that are locked for good and sufficient reason, you will have to accept that actions have consequences. And how DID you get that door open, since my TARDIS Key has not left my hand in many years?"
"Deductive logic. Erik's ring is an exact duplicate of the one you wear - I presume because it is the same ring?"
"Yes, Daroga, it is the same piece, which is a fact I don't think even Erik has puzzled out yet, it is merely – the older version. You see, there are certain – rules – that a traveler such as myself must accept – one of them being that – IF you try to alter your OWN direct past – which is the FIRST thing everyone thinks of – you will either fail or mess it up worse – because you will be too emotionally involved to be objective when you need to be. The only reason I'm getting away with this is because, while I do love Erik dearly, I never met Christine in my time. Heard about her? Endlessly, but never met her till about a year and a half ago. Thus, I can achieve the required objectivity. But, it is OBVIOUS that she's his emotional stability – the Erik of my day was much more – er – volatile, shall we say?"
Taking one last look about – she nodded to herself. "That should do. Ciara, cancel hover, and let the Daroga go home so he can sleep under his own roof, I imagine he's more than tired by now."
"And what will you do, Boss?"
"I think – I will leave things in your hands – observationally – for tonight, so I will deliver these outfits, and then come back and have myself a movie night – I haven't taken a day off in ages. Maybe I'll watch Kismet – that's always a good mood-lifter. Or Mamma Mia, or – hmmm, let me think about this – the possibilities are endless! And tomorrow, I'll sweep the grounds for hidden hazards, post guards, and make sure that all the supplies are ready to go as needed. Soon, Ciara, soon, we should be able to go HOME! I can hardly wait."
"With a little stop at the Longs. . . ."
"Yes, metalsister, I know. I haven't forgotten. "
The Daroga left at that point, puzzling over that last word "metalsister", could a machine truly ever be anyone's sibling? /Think about that tomorrow – for tonight, get some sleep. It may be only ten-twenty PM by the Phantasma clock, but your watch says eight-forty – and that's got to be PM, not AM./ He'd been up for more than thirty hours.
(A/N – Well, the stage is set, the actors are ready, and the big finish will come next – though I'll probably do an Epilogue – so, comments? Questions? Feedback?)