When I was younger, shortly before my life was changed so dramatically by Katarina, I went with my parents, and my brother, Gilbert, into London. There was an exhibition in Knightsbridge, where they had created a representation of a Japanese village. We found it utterly delightful and fascinating, though how authentic it was I cannot say, having never visited Japan itself. We came away with many souvenirs – silks, paper, lanterns and such like, which my mother much treasured and kept in her library. I, myself, was fascinated by the architecture, exotic looking dwellings and shops, seemingly constructed of wood and paper, two of my favourite materials. Father was much impressed too, though, as he said at the time, it was not something suited to the methods of construction that he was used to.
Supposedly, it was this exhibition that inspired WS Gilbert to write The Mikado, though the dates of those two things don’t necessarily align. That is a more bittersweet memory, for it was a performance of said operetta that Mother and I attended shortly thereafter, and was one of the last musical performances we attended together before her illness made things harder to leave the house for extended periods, and before my life changed irrevocably.
I was reminded of this exhibition when I took myself down to the Seiiki District of Callisto. Given that the entire island is a collaborative project between the British and the Japanese, it was no surprise that the district is built in very much the Japanese manner. The occasions was some festival, of which I did not learn the proper name, but was associated with lanterns. And lanterns there were a-plenty. Delicate and elaborate, with shades made, I assumed, from coloured paper. They cast their gentle light over everything, soft and beautiful. In a way, it made me think of times in faerie, where some of the demi-fae would flutter and fly, casting their own light on the scene. It was a most pleasing feast to the eye.
And a feast in other ways, as there were vendors displaying any manner of foods and snacks. I must admit, I partook lightly, as some of the items were unfamiliar to me, and took pains to ascertain that those I sampled did not contain mushrooms or other fungi, just in case they were of the variety that had been causing problems. I did, however, find some rice cakes, some pork buns, which Bailey had mentioned at our first meeting, and some noodles in a delicate clear fish broth.
I also found Bailey there, albeit not dressed as a nurse. She was feeding bits of rice cake to the koi carp in the stream. She was also, it would appear, not well, as she was vomiting at regular intervals into the tub holding a somewhat benighted tree. Whether this was because of inebriation of over-indulgence in foodstuffs, I could not tell. She greeted me cheerfully enough, and did not sound inebriated, but given her exuberant nature, it was hard to tell.
Her vomiting was commented upon by somebody who I learned was called Naoki Sato, though Bailey addressed him as Sharkey, for reasons that did not become apparent. He was more concerned, as was a woman called Willow, with the possibility of Bailey passing on the contagion through spores in the vomit and gave her a plastic bag in which to deposit her sick. When he heard me address her, he asked if we were… intimately involved… and suggested that I should be careful to avoid contagion.
I assured him that Bailey and I were only recently acquainted and not in any intimate way, which denial she enthusiastically confirmed, and that I was aware of the contagion risks and was taking appropriate precautions. A younger me might have been offended by the enthusiasm with which Bailey denied any intimacy, but younger me was a much more awkward person when it came to relationships and intimacy.
Others turned up. One was most strikingly dressed in clothing and makeup of a most elaborate nature. I was reminded of some of the costumes in The Mikado, but it also occurred to me that his appearance would not have looked out of place on some of the elven and fae courts I have attended. His name, I learned, was Ayzere Sian, and he was proprietor of the teahouse in the district.
I introduced myself, both by name and as consort to Gwyneth. I reasoned she had been here longer than I had and may have met more people. I am, of course, my own man, not just a consort, but I thought it would give context and a reason I was there. I suppose that this could have been a risky thing, should somebody have taken offence of her, but that seemed unlikely. Gwyneth gets along with everybody.
Only Naoki appeared to recognise the name, and only as somebody he had briefly met. The name was not familiar to the others. Ah well, she did say that she had only briefly visited the area when Berkshire suggested it. I made polite conversation for a few minutes, but the others, particularly Willow and Saoki seemed more concerned with what places Bailey may have contaminated with her vomit, and the matter of various charms and remedies that could be put in place to mitigate the potential contagion. Azere, on the other hand, seemed sceptical when I introduced myself, as if marriage, or being a consort was something he did not entirely agree with.
There were others around, but they were involved in their own conversations and I was not particularly inclined to interrupt. Although it had been a day or so since I arrived, I was still a little tired from my journey, so I wandered for a while more, sampled some more interesting dishes and then took myself back to the sithen to rest.
So, I have seen a little more of Callisto. One of the more pleasing areas, if what Berkshire told Gwyn is to be believed, and I can believe it. No doubt I will have time to explore some more.
Home is the Sailor 