Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Coming Home ❯ 42 ( Chapter 42 )

42

So long, and thanks for all the fish

"The boat trip will take about two days," Brad told us as we neared the wharf. "When we arrive in China, remember our cover. We are a reporting team on assignment for a Munich travel magazine." As though making introductions, Brad indicated each of us in turn: "Ritter Stedmann, photography. Miyazawa Michio, elder brother, you will be Herr Stedmann's assistant. Miyazawa Toru, younger brother, you will be working with me, Jack Dawson. As the photojournalist, Schuldig, you get to take lots of pretty pictures. See what there is to see. Nagi and I will handle the information gathering."

At the docks, Nagi, Farfarello and I took all our possessions from the car and piled onto what looked like a cheap tour boat. Brad paused only long enough to toss the car keys to a tattooed man before joining us.

Our leader spoke briefly with the captain, a swarthy Korean man, then addressed Nagi and Farfarello in hushed tones. "You two, lay low until we get there. Schuldig and I are signed on as guards for this little smuggling operation," Brad explained. "We're actually going to be paid for this, in the local currency." At my dumbfounded stare, he merely adjusted his glasses and stated, "Don't worry. I've Seen we will arrive without incident, but they don't know this. Play the part."

Then the little boat put to sea, and I spent the next forty-some-odd hours trying not to get motion sick.

By hour number thirty-seven or so, I was pretty damn tired of it. I stopped counting at forty-two.

Two days. Lately my whole life was being defined in two-day chunks.

If Brad were right, and so far he had been, we'd be in China a little after midnight. Once there, we were to meet with someone who would validate our travel documents for cash, and then we'd slip into the crowds and vanish. I hadn't bothered to ask Brad if he'd ever been to China before; it didn't seem terribly relevant.

I wandered downstairs to check on Nagi and Farf. Claiming a bad case of seasickness, we had pretty much quarantined Farfarello in a cabin; so far, he hadn't tried to leave it. I unlocked his door and let myself in.

Farf looked up from his bunk, where he lay reading a tattered paperback. "Are we there yet?" he asked, a smile playing on his lips.

"No, we're not there yet," I grumbled, holding on to the wall as the boat pitched, and my stomach pitched with it. I felt my eyes go wide as I fought to keep my lunch down.

Totally unsympathetic, Far just chuckled. "You're a mess, you know that?"

Again his voice carried that soft Irish lilt, rather than the harsh monotone and flat affect I'd gotten used to over the years. Since the tower I'd noticed that the lilt seemed to accompany a more rational frame of mind, and I greeted it with optimism in spite of my seasickness. "Yeah, well, hopefully this little joy ride will be over soon and we can all stay on solid land from now on."

"Sure," Far agreed, "and maybe monkeys are gonna fly out your butt." His eye twinkled with wicked humor.

"Nice." I decided to change the subject. "So what are you reading?"

"It's sort of a travel guide," Farf replied, still grinning. "It's supposed to be good for people who are in the process of getting lost. And it's got a dose of philosophy, too."

I had the feeling I was being baited to some strange end, but I couldn't resist playing along. "What kind of philosophy?"

"Stuff about life, the universe, basically everything."

"Uh huh. Don't you already know all that shit, Far?"

"Yes, but this book specifically applies to us."

"How so?"

He smiled at me and said, "It tells us not to panic."

I shook my head. Eventually I'd find out what the hell he was talking about, but for now I decided to let it go. "Well, I'm going to check on Nagi," I told him. "Need me to bring you anything?"

"A towel would be nice." Without waiting for reply, he turned his attention back to his book.

Vaguely perplexed, I locked him back in, then went to the kid's room. So far Nagi had chosen to stay in his cabin, staring out the tiny window and hardly moving for hours on end. It bothered me for some reason I couldn't quite name.

At my knock, he didn't invite me in or tell me to go to hell, he merely said, "Hai."

I opened the door. "Chibi? How's it going?"

Nagi sat on the little wooden chair, his elbows propped against the porthole, chin in his hands, his eyes fixed on the waves. "Apparently it's going well," Nagi stated, his voice flat. "If it were not -" he paused, then said, "Mr. Dawson would be in my room, not you." Never once did his gaze leave the water.

"Do you want to come up and see the sunset?" I asked, hoping he'd at least turn to talk to me.

"No, thanks."

Failing to entice him with beauty, I tried for humor. "See any mermaids?"

Nagi sighed. "Schuldig, you are so weird."

"I take that as a `no'."

Nagi said nothing more. Reluctantly I shut the door again and went in search of Brad. I found him, as usual, leaning against the fore railing and gazing at the sky.

"How are they?" he asked, knowing where I'd been.

"One's reading, the other, obsessing." I leaned against the railing and chanced a look down. White foam danced across the bow, hissed against the hull. I felt dizzy; the rushing water seemed to be inviting me to jump. I gasped slightly and looked up, forcing the thought from my mind. The sea was definitely not our friend.

Damn, I needed a smoke.

"We're almost there," Brad stated, as though this would help the situation. "Do you remember your cover?"

"Yeah, yeah," I mumbled, still fighting down a lingering nausea. "Photography, nudge nudge, wink wink."

"We can't afford to screw up." Brad looked at me, his eyes red from wind and lack of sleep. "Not now. This may be our last period of calm before things get…interesting."

"Interesting? Define, please."

Brad seemed exasperated as he said, "I've Seen some pretty chaotic shit, and from everything I can decipher, it will happen. The only thing I know for certain is, none of it happens in China."

"Then why don't we just stay there?" I glanced at him in time to get glared at with force. "Okay, that was dumb. Sorry. But I can't help hoping."

"Save your hope for something productive," Brad stated, then turned to watch the clouds again.

Day faded into night, and the stars gleamed silver against the sea. Again I forced myself to look away, and again I pondered Nagi's fascination with it. He used to watch the night sky, knew the stars by name, but at the moment he sat below decks, no doubt staring out the window, his attention held by a void as deep and cold as space.

The boat pulled up to an unmarked dock and we followed the crew ashore. Brad produced four travel visas from his bag and handed these along with our passports to a piggish man who breathed too loudly to be healthy. Money exchanged hands, our travel papers were stamped, and we smuggled ourselves into China without a hitch.

"Gentlemen," Brad addressed us in Japanese, "welcome to Shanghai."