On Osiris, a day or so post-operation

[simon_doctor]

River's all right, and so's the rest of the crew. And it's a brisk bright afternoon in the heart of the city, glass and silver towers throwing the sunlight back at the sky, street and air traffic humming past.

The skimmer's only a block away, and he has time.

You should. If you want.

Not enough time to visit the nearby Museum of the Exodus, and that's something he'd rather do in company anyway -- briefly and wistfully, he imagines how its collection would delight Kaylee. But a walk around Ehrmann Square, to look at the fountains ... and maybe buy a cup of coffee from one of the corner kiosks. Just a walk.

You can.

Comments

[walk_ins]

Marissa, aged almost sixteen, comes to Ehrmann Square to do homework.

This is to say that Marissa comes to Ehrmann Square to stake out a good table near the fountain with her best friend Lanlan (and a good table, of course, means one between the two kiosks with the really shuài vendors), and to gossip, and to trade magazines and Cortexcasts with Lanlan, and to peoplewatch, and to drink entirely too much caffeine (as her father would say, and does), and maybe, once in a while, to get a little bit of homework done.

"Cái búshì!" she insists, giggling. "She's so much prettier than that."

And then... that dark-haired guy trailing a hand over the lip of the fountain looks really familiar. She nudges Lanlan.

[walk_ins]

"Zhen de a! Give it here lah --"

But she follows Marissa's gaze and freezes, arm still outstretched.

"Aaaa . . . Marissa! Ta shi -- !"

[walk_ins]

"No way," Marissa says flatly.

(She's still staring, though.)

"Húchĕ -- he never comes back here, People To Watch said so."

"He just... y'know, really looks like Simon."

[simon_doctor]

The guy in question has his back to them at the moment; his face is only visible in one-quarter profile, a trace of cheekbone and chin.

Until he turns away from the fountain to stroll toward the nearest kiosk, head tilted back slightly to take in the sunlight.

[walk_ins]

Lanlan punches Marissa's arm. "Nuh-uh. Ni feng le. Why leave guxiang ma? Magazines tell you anything."

Then Simon turns, and she squeals; her fist opens to flutter against Marissa's shoulder. "A, kankan, look!" She's too excited to be smug. "Got to be him -- no one looks that much alike. You think he sees us?"

[walk_ins]

Marissa squeals too, and turns her head sharply away. Not so far that she can't watch Simon sidelong, though.

"He's not looking," she whispers, both hands raised to her mouth, and then immediately contradicts herself by giggling, "Aaaa. What if he does? What if he comes over? Wo kending chushi."

Beat.

"Do you think he will?"

Apparently, Lanlan has won the argument.

[walk_ins]

Lanlan is frantically finger-combing her hair with one hand, as the other scrabbles through a jumble of cosmetic in her sparkly pink purse. "Wo mirror zai nar ah! Yizhi Pam is going through my purse. What if cameras leh?"

Hair arranged to her satisfaction, she whips out a tube of day-glo lipstick, and applies it with more enthusiasm than care. "Shhhh, don't make like looking. Probably he gets tons of girls staring." In the same breath: "You meiyou bi? We keneng get autograph!"

[walk_ins]

"Aaaa..." Marissa's shoulder bag is green and covered in purple sequins, and twice the size of Lanlan's purse, and contains at least twice as much stuff.

"Yŏu!" She produces two pens (one black for homework, one purple and glittery for everything else) and a stray tube of lipstick, and then makes an indignant face at Lanlan.

"Stop!" she hisses. "Look so obvious, he'll think we're just giggly girls." Which they're totally not. "We've gotta look casual, dŏng ma?"

The way to do this, of course, is to drop the lipstick back in her purse, dump the pens on the table, and then toss back her hair with elaborate if unconvincing nonchalance.

[walk_ins]

Lanlan rolls her eyes expressively.

"So casual, right. Xiang xiaojie."

And now she's giggling so hard her shoulder knocks against Marissa's, because what else can you do? Simon Tam!

[walk_ins]

Marissa is OUTRAGED.

"Jiàn tā de guĭ!" she protests, which is one of the many phrases her parents don't realize she knows. "And your jiànhuò lipstick's so subtle, huh?"

But she can't really sustain her indignation in the face of Lanlan's giggles, and before long she's covering her mouth over laughter of her own.

"Simon Tam," she whispers through giggles. "Oh my God, Lanlan."

[simon_doctor]

... was that his name?

Simon glances over his shoulder.

[walk_ins]

He's looking at them.

He's LOOKING AT THEM.

Cue another outburst of giggling, and of trying to simultaneously hide and look cool and collected.

[simon_doctor]

For a moment he's not sure what that's about, and then --

oh.





Moooooving on.

[walk_ins]

He's going away.

Marissa looks crushed. Lanlan continues to make hopeful eyes, and even ventures a quick cheerful wave once Simon's back has turned.

This, of course, brings about another fit of oh my god you DIDN'T giggling from both of them.

[simon_doctor]

The smell of baking pastry wafts from the kiosk, along with the mingled smells of a dozen different kinds of coffee, tea, herbal infusions.

Simon lingers for a moment over the display case.

[walk_ins]

"Nĭ hăo, sir, can I help you?"

The vendor manning the kiosk hurries over, smiling.

[simon_doctor]

"Black coffee, please, and ... " A judicious look at the display case again. "A piece of the hazelnut baklava."

[walk_ins]

"Good, good, the baklava's excellent. Just black coffee?"

He carefully serves up the baklava as he talks.

[simon_doctor]

"Yes, please."

Simon turns half around as he's waiting, looking back at the square. It's a beautiful day.

He wishes Kaylee could see this.

[walk_ins]

It really is. The fountains in the middle of the square may not be as tall as some, but the use of invisible grav-fields to shape the flow makes them a delight to watch, sunlight glinting through arcs of water that seem to dance of their own volition. Birds are flitting or walking around -- pigeons, mostly.

"Here you go, sir," says the vendor, and names the price.

[simon_doctor]

He hands over a few bills -- paying with cash is unusual, but not unheard of for something as small as a sidewalk vendor -- and waits for his change.

And eyes a newsstand across the square with sudden speculation.

[walk_ins]

"Here you are -- napkins and such are down at the end. Zaijian a."

[simon_doctor]

"Xiexie ni."

Nibbling at the pastry (which is in fact excellent), he walks around the square to the newsstand.

And after a brief discussion with that vendor (who, if he recognizes Simon from any magazine covers, is being quite discreet about it), comes away with a disposable twenty-minute vid-capture, conveniently sized to operate with one hand and fit into a pocket. It's a touristy kind of thing, but there's an odd satisfaction to playing tourist in his home town.

And if he can't bring Kaylee here just yet, at least he can bring back something of it to show her.