Of course, as with all journeys, the will to travel did not aid us in actually getting there. Mr. Porist said so almost immediately: “What shall we do next? We cannot go anywhere for some time, as Lord Pulkwark’s Galaship will not stop until it has reached its berth, as I doubt our host would be willing to lend us a lifeboat. And even then, the coming war will surely cause chartering a new vessel to be quite difficult, if not impossible.”
An impassioned speech given to the North Carolina State Legislature goes viral on the Boards. Anti-IAN groups see a massive increase in donations and memberships. The Naturalist Movement takes the forefront of this surge, becoming the defacto spokes-party for anti-IAN sentiment, demanding that all copyrights and private information regarding IANs be released into the public domain.
The first documented use of Nanocule as a proper noun for IANs is published in a popular blog. ‘Nanocule’ begins to become the public name for IANs, joining Xerox, Kleenex, and Google as brand names that have become a noun or verb.
The Galaship Ruskinolam was a mighty vessel, large enough to entertain hundreds of the most exacting and particular lords and ladies from across the Myriad Worlds. Different wings on different decks had their own climates, designed to keep the different races comfortable, or uncomfortable, as their proclivities leaned.
For those who found the average, or should I perhaps say median climate tolerable enough, or perhaps had some method of preventing the worst of their adverse affects to such atmosphere, gathered in the central ballroom. The room was taller than most trees I have seen, and wide enough to require two chamber-orchestras at either end to ensure that the reveling attendees did not miss the subtle overtones of the chosen music. The skill required for both orchestras to play in perfect unison was worthy of note. I am always impressed by such displays of devotion to ones’ passion and craft.
How glum me and Mr. Porist must have looked, standing on the Docks of the Grand Junction, watching the vessels come and go.
We had tried to return to Lady Quixtactictle’s residence to say goodbye, only to find the way barred by officers of the Anointed Bulwark, who with their badges and truncheons explained in no uncertain detail why we were not allowed re-entry. Now we stood, sullen and sad, aside the docks, waiting for available passage on any of the vessels that traveled to and from the Grand Junction.
The events that spanned our delightful reunion at Lady Quixtactictle’s mansion, and the remarkably less delightful environs of the local Constabulary are not worthy of report. Instead, allow me to explain what happened just before myself and Mr. Porist were released on our own recognizance, as they are far more pertinent to this particular poem.
Once again, my dear Captain Sir Venriki de’Laisey was eager to reacquaint himself with my company. I could only imagine how long he had searched for me, after realizing he had let me slip through his fingers once before without so much as a nightcap.
Due to a brief jaunt to Ohio to view the Eclipse, there will be no post on Monday.
Instead, there will be a double-post on Wednesday! Thank you for your patience, and I’ll see you then!
The FDA officially declares IANs safe enough for over-the-counter use.
Competing protests shut down Boston. The news reports from inside the city explain some protesters are demanding cheaper access to Nanocules for the lower classes, while others demand more regulation and research into this new and potentially dangerous technology.
Over the counter ‘IANdigestion’ pills are made available for sale, marketed to prevent indigestion, heart burn, gas, and constipation for a full day if taken in the morning. These pills are 99.53% effective. One package of thirty pills costs five dollars. Side effects are minor, including mild stomach-aches, and occur in less than .01% of the population.
I must take the opportunity to applaud Lady Quixtactictle’s taste in servants, as not a one behaved anything less than perfectly properly. Indeed, it is difficult to answer the door when it has been blown off its hinges, but the tall butler managed, with her firm back and graceful limbs, to provide some measure of propriety to the sudden and violent assault on our host’s mansion.
The assailants, unfortunately, were not nearly as respectful of her efforts as we were. Smoke and light poured into the dining hall, the sound of metal and gunpowder filled my ears. There was a great shouting of many different voices, and it was only after I gripped Mr. Porist about the middle that I managed to shake him from his shocked stupor and drag him underneath the table.
Mr Porist and I then followed Lady Quixtactictle to her mansion — a term of endearment in this case, as the Grand Junction was simply not large enough to contain a residence of the size people of Lady Quixtactictle’s status are accustomed to. As such, Lady Quixtactictle’s domicile on the third level of the Grand Junction was merely fifteen rooms large, and somewhat humble in terms of decoration and extravagance.
Oh, how suitably named is the Grand Junction; a place of a thousand wonders and delights. From all across the Myriad Worlds come travelers seeking new lands on which to place their feet, free from the confines of their old lands and cultures. They mix freely with each other like masters of their own destinies. Exotic Foods are exchanged along with foreign coin. Soft steel is traded for hard silk. Songs are sung, and even if the words are all wrong and the tune is not right, the song is clearly the same.
