Chapter 11

Albion felt like a magical place straight from a bedtime story. The cobblestone streets hugged the natural terrain. Tudor style shops dotted the streets. The ambiance of the little shopping district outside the spaceport had Leslie thinking of several theme parks she had visited back on Earth. It was difficult to fathom that the colony was only a year or so older than Wayward. They had done so much in so little time.

All the men in the group were in the pub supposedly playing darts. "A genetic response to the domestic necessities," that was how Ms. Timmons described the men's desertion of them. The females had accompanied Laurie Findlay into The Duchess of Saint David Fine China Shop. Stepping inside, one might expect the dark to be pierced by candles or lanterns. Indirect soft light illuminated the displays. Splitting into age groups, the ladies circumnavigated the sales floor. Laurie was here to finalize a deal for an eighteen place setting and service.

The woman in period dress introduced herself. "Welcome to the Fine China shop. May I be of assistance?" Her accent reflected the quality of the establishment.

"I'm the representative of Sergeant Ella Findlay of Wayward colony." Laurie waited, figuring an AI was filling the sales rep in on the finer points of the transaction. She continued, "We've chosen the Golden Rose pattern." She pointed at a sample place setting on a display table.

"Yes," the woman smiled. "I'm Elvira Whitaker, we've been expecting you today."

"The silks you are expecting are being offloaded from the Peterbilt." Laurie smiled. Everything about the deal had been handled by the Darjee Consortium, who traded Wayward's products throughout the Confederacy.

"We were actually notified of the delivery this morning." Elvira smiled, "We were afraid you were not going to be able to be here in person."

"Now that I've gotten a good look at the china pattern, we're going to need to change the dining room's wall color."

"I think you're right." Leslie had to agree that the light green in the Findlay's dining room would be way too pastel to complement the china.

"It's a good thing that I was able to come." Laurie looked at her entourage, then back at the sales girl. "My sponsor has no concept of color. I had to bring the crew so that we can form a plan to paint the dining room a hunter green to match the leaves on this setting."

"Is your sponsor really young?" Elvira Whitaker asked sheepishly.

Laurie quipped back, "No, Ella thinks that greens only come from the camo palette."

"Hopefully," Elvira leaned in close, "the AIs won't share that observation." A wink followed the comment.

Laurie suppressed a giggle. "To be honest, our boy toy Jack has the best color sense."

"Just what would define a boy toy?" Elvira winked, adding an "hmmm" that spanned an octave.

"Let's just say," she leaned in close to whisper, "he can reach the best spots and has thighs and an ass that work the motions."

Team Wonder Women had gravitated to the snow globes. "Ever notice that when men talk about sex," Dena Jenkins told the girls, "they punch each other in the arm and grunt."

"Look at the women," Taylor Saani added. "When it comes to talking sex, they huddle and giggle."

Ruby Nez chimed in, "Like we are doing?"

It took a few moments, but the entire team ended up on the floor giggling.

"Think they are up to something?" Arlene Timmons asked her fellow chaperone Leslie.

Leslie observed the group. Collectively, the girls looked at the adults, and then continued laughing. "It's a phase, something that boys will replace in a few years."

Unlike the girls at the china shop, the boys found the pub to be a bit physically darker. The tables, benches, and chairs appeared to be constructed from rough-hewn oak. The dark ambience provided a sense of mystery, each table lit individually by its own low hanging lamp. The only modern-looking area was the pocket billiards corner.

Henri and Andres had steered Randy away from the bar over to the billiards. They were preparing to engage in a game.

"Why are the pockets rounded?" Randy ran his hand along the pocket following the contour.

Henri took a step toward his young charge. "This is a snooker table. It is similar to pocket billiards." He grabbed a cue from the wall rack. "It is a cue-and-ball game, which is a lot like saying that hockey is very close to what you would call soccer."

Randy nodded. Andres began to rack the balls. The only thing that fit his frame of reference was how the fifteen red balls were placed. Where the other five went ... well, they had places but he would need to research this.

Henri broke. Randy was sure he would need to do research. He only struck the racked red balls. Both men obviously had some familiarity with the game but Randy still had no idea what was going on.

"Bleedin' Frogs." A loud voice grabbed Randy's attention. He turned and looked. Several men had the two privates surrounded. Andres and Henri quickly walked over toward the commotion. As he and the sergeant left Randy, Andres signaled for Randy to wait at the table.

The door to the pub opened. Laurie Findlay led the entourage of women and girls into the room. She called across to the men, "We're finished."

Henri waved but continued toward the group surrounding his two privates. "Randy's over at the snooker table," he said as he pointed at the far side of the pub.

The bartender shouted an order, "Everybody stand-down!"

"Can it!" the man standing over Private Zidane barked back.

"Gordon, you're not in Manchester anymore," the bartender reminded the shouting man, who wore a United jersey. "You can't buy your way out of trouble here."

Henri recognized the tone in the voice, drunk and ready to brawl, a stupid and dangerous condition. The Manchester fan, Gordon, turned to look at Henri. "Comin' to the rescue?"