Postcards from Infinite Shadow:

China to Port Royal, and Points Between

Á qui de droit,

China in the morning, when the mist begins to lift and the sunlight begins to sift through it all, is a lovely place. It's almost perfect for watercolors. Fields and farms stretch out on all sides, and the sunrise over the hills is a thing that must be seen.

It was sunrise I found that morning, from a rocky perch outside of town. The light sifting down through the mist had me caught spiderweb-wise for a while, until the caravan destroyed my concentration.

I suppose that's melodramatic - William would tell me so, at least. Mules ruin the flow of entire scenes, simply by their presence, so I stand by my melodrama. William isn't here to hear me, anyway.

Mules and Chinamen aren't that unusual along trade routes. I wasn't particularly aware that I was on a trade route, but it didn't surprise me. I don't generally pay attention to the local economy; after all, if trade is disturbing my art, I can always move on.

No, the thing that startled me about this caravan was the Caucasian gentleman in the lead. The China I'd chosen to visit was a bit too early for European trade caravans - and anyway, I was the only person of European appearance that I knew of for at least a thousand miles in every direction. Given that he rode over to speak to me, he was as confused by the presence of my blonde self as I was by his appearance. He introduced himself as Gemini - he had a last name, but I've figured out that last names aren't as important as some people make them out to be, so I forgot it almost as soon as he told it to me.

He seemed to think I was a lost European lady - a fiction trite enough to make my teeth ache, but it was sufficient - and offered to take me back to Europe. He was concerned for my safety. He wanted to know where the village was and offered a ride.

I handled the first, deflected the second, and okayed the third - and was unceremoniously hauled onto the back of his mule. He and I had a few words about that. Apparently "gentleman" and Gemini have a passing acquaintance, and the former just keeps walking when I'm around.

Back in town - and I use the term generously - Gemini and I parted company. The caravan had taken over the center of town, so I headed off to my room at the bath house. My offer of assistance - behind the scenes so I didn't discomfit the customers - was rebuffed, not unexpectedly, but I was bored.

Bored artists are dangerous things. Father (and certain other family members) can assure anyone that doubts me on that. I've mentioned enough hair-raising scrapes to them; they ought to know. In this case, impulse and whim led me to a little harmless tagging along. Gemini had offered, after all.

Gemini's chief underling didn't seem pleased to see me. I can't imagine why; I didn't bother him once. Perhaps it was simply that he had to care for Gemini - I'm not convinced that that's a job for one man alone.

A mule was commandeered for me from the back of the line, and we rode out. Conversation wasn't particularly riveting. He wanted more information about me, and I was having fun - maybe a little too much fun - thwarting him and playing the ditzy blonde artist. Needless to say, we both knew it would be a long trip.

I'll give Gemini credit - he tried pretty hard to be a gentleman. He tried charm and being friendly, and he gave up his tent to me until we reached a town where he could buy another one. I had a hard time taking that seriously after the display with the mule, though; he was probably trying to make things right again, but I just found it entertaining.

The tent reminds me, though - his luggage was full of women's clothing. None of it would fit me, so either he was carrying around clothing for a lover or sister I'd yet to see, or he was a crossdresser, or something else was amiss. I didn't inquire; it's not like I was supposed to be examining his luggage anyway. Admitting to that kind of stuff always brings trouble. And, too, most of the crossdressers I've known were hypersensitive about wardrobe questions.

The first town brought baths, a new tent, and a prolonged conversation about my safety. Apparently he found my assurances that I've escape routes handy at all times less than useful. Fortunately, he didn't insist on assigning guards to escort me. It's embarrassing for guards when I slip their watch and head off on my own.

Time passed, as it always does when one is on the road. Eventually we reached a town large enough to be labeled a city; we took over an inn. It wasn't a bad inn, and I suppose I can't hold it against the building that it burned down. Any construction has weak points; it was simply our misfortune that the inn's structural weak point was it's flammable nature.

I awoke to fire and flame, grabbed my sketch pad and my Trumps, and bailed out the most convenient exit. And then my conscience got the better of me, and I strolled right back in to find out why Gemini hadn't come downstairs yet.

He was crawling around on his way out of the room and tried to insist that I should do likewise. I'm sorry, but this was a wooden building and we were on the second floor; crawling to avoid the smoke took second place to getting the hell out. I left him to his own devices, since he was obviously intent on crawling the rest of the way out.

Then things took an interesting turn.

Everyone set to work trying to both save and empty the barn. I wasn't about to walk the rest of the way to the port, so I was manhandling the mules out the door as best I could. In the meantime, Gemini had acquired a fire extinguisher and was putting out fires that threatened his silk.

Over the top - that's what that was. He didn't seem to understand, when I told him he was being flashy, what I meant. Early China - before even the advent of electricity - is simply not the place to wave a fire extinguisher around. It's anachronistic enough to disrupt the entire situation, it's disconcerting to the natives, and it was pretty much a needless use of his powers, because he can always get more silk.

I suppose it might have helped if I'd explained clearly. Waking up to a burning building always disconcerts me.

The mules came out all right. The Chinamen were a bit scorched, but Gemini summoned something - he didn't explain, and I wasn't too worried about it - to put on the injured ones. I, meanwhile, ran across another escaped patron of the inn, Yasumi. Nice girl. Very polite, very Japanese - but nice.

She didn't have much more than a book and the clothes on her back after the fire, so I volunteered Gemini's wardrobe (although I didn't tell him that specifically). When we located him, he was less than surprised to learn I'd volunteered him for something. I'm not sure if that's because he had money and expected requests for charity, or because he expected me to require peculiar things of him. Either way, he offered to let her come with us and - much to my amusement - she accepted.

Gemini's chief lackey - you'd think, after the weeks I spent with him around, I'd remember his name - seemed much more pleased by Yasumi than he was by me. Actually, he seemed generally happier once Yasumi showed up, to the extent of being nice to me. I suspected him. I didn't know what he was up to, but he was obviously doing something to make him do an emotional one-eighty. The least disturbing option was that he had a crush on Yasumi.

Anyway, we spent the next morning in that town. Gemini was evaluating his silks and getting the caravan back in a state where it could travel again. I, on the other hand, went on a sketching walk. Yasumi came with me, and spent much of the time reading.

I finally asked about the book. She said it was Shakespeare. Given that I have it on the highest authority that William never made it to the East, I was a little confused. I let it pass; after Gemini's anachronistic antics during the fire, a book of William's works was a harmless thing.

On our return, Gemini asked the same question about the book. He also pressed her for where she acquired it. She then revealed that William Smith, a dark-haired man on a boat, gave it to her.

...Uncle Caine? But he's dead. How the hell...? And why would he be in that place anyway? Wait - ocean. Never mind on the last question. And I suppose, on second evaluation, that it could be Uncle Gerard as well. It's still bizarre.

I'd never given Gemini a last name, and he chose this point in the conversation to ask me for one. His timing was on the poor side, given that we were discussing Shakespeare and the last name I like to use is Stratford. His reaction was priceless, though.

At midday we moved on; more time dribbled past like the paths we trod. Eventually we reached a port. Gemini arranged for and loaded a ship; Yasumi and I wandered the town. I wasn't sure yet whether she simply wants female company or whether there was another motive, but I let it pass for the sake of sketching.

We left port shortly after that. The less said about the ship, the better; it was a Chinese junk, and it floated, and those are the important parts. I'm no sailor, to wax poetic about a ship - nor am I K'kk'ikkit'ik, whose endless sonar paintings of the hulls of the great liners just make me nauseous. His thermal vent works are better anyway.

If it weren't for our detour, I'm sure the entire voyage would have been tolerably boring until I became fed up and ditched the ship for a nice port town. But some time between retiring one night and waking up the next morning, the ship took a left turn through Shadow, and we found ourselves in a pink-skied place crowned by double moons. The horizons held nothing but some peculiar birds.

I hope no one wants a Trump of the place, because I hereby refuse to paint it.

Gemini and I had a chat about whose fault it was. I had been asleep. He claimed slumber as well. But somebody moved the ship.

We never came to a satisfactory conclusion. The best guess we made was that someone moved us for some purpose of their own - and that one's almost as painfully easy to think of as the little polite fiction I let Gemini believe before I joined the caravan. The only useful thing we decided was that Gemini was going to try to move the ship elsewhere.

If he'd asked, I probably would have done it, and we could have saved a little trouble all around. He's got arrogant moments, though, so I just headed below decks when he instructed the crew to batten down for some bad storms. I just wasn't in the mood to fight the weather to stay on deck - and I didn't particularly care to see what the place might look like under stormy skies. I ended up cat-napping until the storms stopped.

When I sauntered back on deck, Gemini was half-passed out up front, with Yasumi talking to him. I did manage to assure him that he continued to be flashy before he staggered off to get some much-needed sleep - leaving me to deal with the port we were quickly approaching.

The port was Port Royal - in the Caribbean, and several thousand miles away from China. This detour was looking more and more like the "shortcuts" Tsi-Lin used to take between the Southern Enclave and the Orient. Those tended to double or triple the distance between the two cities.

The detour was through time, too, as we were now in the height of the British colonization of the Caribbean. Interesting choice on Gemini's part. I handled the rather confused Port Authority and managed to get the junk parked at dock with no major problems.

Gemini continued to lounge and nap. I suppose I can't blame him - he looked pretty worn out - but my rebellious streak and I decided to abandon ship for an inn, pirates and rough characters be damned. Fortunately for all involved, the only invader of my room during the night was the sound of the bar downstairs.

I insulted a few patrons on my way back to the junk in the morning. It seemed a good way to start the day. Back on deck, I spent a while sketching the docks. And then I made an attempt to have a reasonable conversation with Father.

One might notice the use of the word "attempt."

I only wanted to ask if the Shadow to which we detoured was anything he recognised. Somehow that mutated into my giving a scattershot account of the trip, and I was informed that I ought to get more information on Gemini, since I'd slept through his moving the ship. Father also warned me that he would be displeased if he has to come rescue me.

That last one? Not a problem, thanks. I still haven't decided if I should stop asking him questions, or if I should just be better prepared when I do - but either way, my mood went downhill a bit after our chat.

My mood did not, in fact, improve when Gemini showed up tarted up like one of the "authentic" productions of his Musketeer stories that Alexandre insisted on directing every few years. Gemini further insisted that we three needed to visit a local dressmaker's for some "proper" clothing. The dressmaker's name was Madame Bertrande, and she and Gemini conspired to make sure I emphatically lost the ensuing debate about "proper" versus "practical."

Gemini departed while Yasumi and I were assaulted by a small army of dressmakers armed with measuring tapes. He returned quickly, but I can't help but wonder if he left to avoid being sucked into the whirlwind. When we left the shop, I'd been shoved into a pink and green monstrosity that bore no resemblance to anything practical; Yasumi, being small, got away with the clothes she arrived in. On the other hand, we had an ominous promise of clothing made to our measurements in a day or so.

But that wasn't the end of the bad day. Some time during our little shopping trip, the junk had vanished completely. Questions to local sailors revealed that it had just... sailed away shortly after we disembarked. My suspicion that someone was playing tricks on Gemini - one that occurred to me during our earlier detour - grew stronger. Either that, or we'd been victims of a remarkably silent mutiny.

Gemini tried something - I assume it was another summoning, and probably for something on board the ship so we could find it again. Either way, it failed miserably, and his voice shot up two octaves.

Okay...

Then he staggered off and told us to go away. My curiousity said to follow, so I did. Yasumi came with me until he yelled at us the second time; then she dropped back behind me. We continued down the street, away from the docks.

Then Gemini turned around to tell us to go away yet again, and I had the dubious surprise of realizing that he was a she.

Well. That explains the luggage.

Fin.