2. FLASHBACK: Waxing
- Earlier that day -
"I don't get why we can't just shave these off," Jake complained. He was sitting on the Biolab floor while Norm applied wax to his left eyebrow. "I mean, come on. Waxing is for girls."
"Look, you said you wanted to pass as Na'vi during this thing. The Na'vi don't have eyebrows." Norm kept his tone firm, trying to ignore the fact that his six-foot self was trying to boss a ten-foot alien. "I don't see why you're raising a fuss over this."
"Norm, do you really think they'd be checking out my follicles in the middle of high-stakes diplomacy? I'm pretty sure a shave would get the same effect."
"You'd be surprised how perceptive people can be at a subconscious level," said Norm academically. He stuck a strip of cloth to Jake's face. "They might not notice the difference explicitly, but it could very well contribute to a sort of intuitive sense that something is off about you. It's all in the little details."
Jake sighed. "Whatever. Let's just get this over with."
With a crisp flick of his wrist, Norm ripped the wax clean off, tearing out the eyebrow and causing Jake to suck in his breath with a wince.
"Oh, come on," Norm groaned. "You're being such a baby. I swear you're doing this on purpose." He shook his head as he began applying wax to the other eyebrow. "Seriously, Jake, you've been shot before. With bullets. This should not be that bad for you."
"I don't see what you're getting at," Jake grumped. "Yeah, getting shot hurts. Getting hair torn out hurts too. Not as much, but I don't exactly keep a poker face while getting shot either."
"But doesn't pain tolerance increase over time or something? I would've thought you'd be desensitized by now."
"These aren't exactly battle conditions, Norm. Adrenaline is a great pain-killer, you know."
"I see. Maybe I should have you punch something in the face before I do this other one."
Jake grinned. "Are you volunteering?" he asked brightly.
"No."
Norm let the wax set on the second eyebrow, then ripped that off too. "So how do you feel?" he asked.
"Like a fucking princess."
Norm rolled his eyes. "I mean about the meeting. How do you think it'll go?"
Jake smiled grimly as he worked on the straps of his Olo'Eyktan mantle. "Well, if I trusted them, I wouldn't be putting up this charade, now would I?" He brought the mantle over his head and slung it from his arm.
Norm shrugged. "One could argue that this is just standard common sense. Setting up a decoy is one of the oldest tricks in the book, historically, when heads of state are forced to —"
"Ralteyo's not a decoy, Norm," said Jake, cutting him off with a frown. "I don't need someone else to stand up to danger for me; that's not the point. I just want to see how they behave themselves when they think they're talking to actual natives." An uneasy look crept onto his face all the same as he eyed the mantle he was handing off. He lingered on the thick black thanator claws, shifting them guiltily in his hands. "Anyway," he said, "I'll be right next to him the whole time."
"Huh, that's kind of interesting," said Norm. "So it's more like you're stepping over into a kind of 'power-behind-the-throne' role. Also classic. The Franks had it down to an art form - the Merovingian Kings were pretty much ruled by the Mayors of the Palace in the end. Charlemagne's forefathers were technically just majordomos, you know."
Jake raised a no-longer-eyebrow. "Are you done, Dr. Spellman?"
Norm snorted. "I am just getting started. But yeah. What do you honestly think the odds are that they'll pull something shady?"
Jake was quiet for a long time, staring north toward the shuttle pad. "I don't know," he said finally. "None of this makes any sense, you know?"
Norm nodded. Tuesday's detection of an approaching spaceship had instantaneously put everyone on high alert. Alarm had changed to growing panic and confusion as the ship grew visible in the sky, ignoring every transmission they sent it – inquiries, proffers, pleas, threats. Gathered together in the old control room, they'd watched it lock ominously into orbit. Jake had been on the verge of declaring war when finally a single 136-bit transmission came pinging in: We come in peace.
Jake had taken about four seconds to process that, eyes locked with Neytiri in silent communication. {Okay,} he'd said. {This is what we tell the People: Avoid all contact. Let me talk to them. Do not attack—} He'd pulled her into a sudden, inexplicably urgent kiss. {—and don't do anything rash.} Then he'd sprinted outside before anyone could stop him. By the time they'd followed him out, he was already disappearing toward the horizon on his banshee.
He returned a couple hours later – mildly battered atop a rather grumpy-looking Toruk. He slid from the majestic creature's back, ignoring their shocked expressions. {Just in case,} he'd whispered.
The problem with that attitude, as Neytiri had very patiently explained to everyone, was that nobody had ever been Toruk Makto twice, and those who didn't know Jake personally would never believe anyone would jump onto a wild Leonopteryx "just in case." This particular specimen was associated with the war. Knowledge of its presence would instantly rouse militant expectations among the clans and cripple any efforts to negotiate peace with the humans.
Luckily, only a handful of people had witnessed the event, and it was soon decided that it would be best for things to stay that way. Toruk was currently hidden in what used to be the Armor Bay. It hadn't been happy about hunkering down in such an enclosed space, but Jake had eventually managed to coax it inside.
"Any new intel?" Jake asked, breaking Norm's reverie.
He shook his head. "Nothing that contradicts what we've been told. The thermals show exactly six people on the ship."
"Only six people," Jake echoed, shaking his head slowly. "Weird." His brow furrowed in distracted thought as he slipped a fringe of feathers onto each foot, hiding his odd number of toes. With Ralteyo and Peyral wearing the same during the meeting, the humans were unlikely to see anything unusual about this addition to the usual Na'vi adornments.
Norm watched as Jake stood up, towering over him. With any luck, the whole situation would make a lot more sense after the meeting.
Norm frowned suddenly. "There's still your chest and your hands," he pointed out. "How are you planning to hide those?"
Jake grinned and slowly crossed his arms over his chest, simultaneously hiding his five-fingered hands and his lack of a prominent sternum ridge. He leaned back and struck a "tough guy" pose.
Norm laughed. "Nice. That's actually not half bad. You look native." He followed his friend to the door then reached up to pat his elbow as Jake ducked into the SCIMOD utilidor. "Go get 'em, Charlemagne."
Author's note: This story won't be fully complete for quite some time, but hopefully this little teaser has piqued your interest and given you a taste of things to come.
"The Last Train Home" is quite different from FSTL and considerably more ambitious – more than twice as long and much more research-intensive. This is a rather intimidating prospect, but an exciting one. There will beintrigue, my friends! Drama! Suspense! Fluffy romance! The plot is fully developed – it will consist of 28 chapters, which are already outlined and half-written.
Even so, it will have to come out at its own pace. It may get left on the back burner for stretches while I write one-shots or have a life. Never fear, though—this ficwillbe finished someday, especially because the last few chapters are the ones I'm most eager to share. I hope you stay tuned!
Reviews are always appreciated, whether they're long or short, positive or negative, insightful or not.
UPDATE (11/1/10): I have started a thread for LTH in the fanfiction section of the Tree-of-Souls forum. There you will find an occasional "sneak preview" into chapters yet to be published.