07-30-2013, 03:57 PM
Aeva was not sure that it could be called a 'good' thing, but there were some of the ragged remnants of the North-West British population who had managed to find a way of making themselves useful. In the case of Terry Hinchcliffe, it had been to find the hull of an old wooden ship near-beached at low tide after the Great Wave had claimed nearly everything along the western coastline. Nobody seemed to own the vessel and he had made something of a hobby of fixing her up, having floated it to the bottom of his back garden once the tide came in again.
It was mostly sound; it floated and only leaked a little in rough weather - not enough to make it a real risk of sinking. But the best was that rich people thought an actual wooden ship with actual canvas sails and a real anchor as tall as a person was quite charming. And they liked to hire it to hold receptions, listen to singers, make speeches and do other things that rich people could afford to do on an unusual, floating venue.
And having learned his trade mostly from books and stumbling around in shallower waters and coastal regions, Terry wasn't especially fussy about the legitimacy of any crew who cared to sign aboard. He had a few permanents who didn't really get paid, except in food and board, and others who did because they knew something about old wooden ships and taught him something new about his adopted trade.
But Aeva had learned her own skills mostly from a book and extrapolation. Sailmaking - or rather repairing - was not so far removed from the business of a seamstress, and so in return for help with his worse-for-wear canvas and some tutoring of himself and his crew, Terry overlooked the fact that Aeva's passport was a fake, that she came aboard with one small bag in which were the precious tools of her trade and that passage, her food and her accommodation were all that she asked in return for everything she was willing to do and teach.
It had been a good plan which worked like a charm, and when she arrived in Moscow, it gave her confidence that the next stage of her plan would also work.
Aeva had been denied a passport by the CCD authorities. She had actually found herself angry and wondered whether it was the activities of her late father, or her oldest brother Karl who she could blame for that. There was the possibility it was Taren, but... well - if the CCD had any idea what he was doing, then she would have been hauled in to answer questions. And if she didn't know where he was or what he was doing, then it was very unlikely that the CCD did, either. Getting a phony passport was more expensive and only a little less difficult than getting a real one!
Eventually she had left word at home that she would be taking a tour with Terry Hinchcliffe, and had decided to trust Terry himself with her destination - after all, it had technically been his decision! If Taren came out of hiding and needed her, that was the only trail she had dared leave.
Aeva also knew that her passport was never going to pass muster with the people at the border control. Illegal immigrants tried to get over the border all the time, were taken to detention and then returned to wherever it was they came from. At least that was the official line, but Aeva couldn't trust that. She was sure some did make it back home... well - she knew they did, but 'some' was not 'all'. She hoped that whoever assisted her in getting into Moscow made it back home - and wished him or her a better life there when they got back.
She was helped by a little teenage goth who reminded her of Karl when he was that age. He made such a fuss about his passport being refused, that Aeva was able to slip unnoticed into another queue, and while the guard looked across to the ruckus, wondering whether he was going to be needed to help put the problem away, she showed her fake ID, which was duly stamped and she was waved along with the rest of the crowd, anxiously looking back to see the boy being restrained and taken away. The man who had let her go was shaking his head and frowning, paying heed to the next woman in the queue.
So Aeva walked out onto the streets of Moscow, heading for the only place an illegal immigrant could go... the Underground City.
Edited by Aeva, Jul 31 2013, 09:45 AM.
It was mostly sound; it floated and only leaked a little in rough weather - not enough to make it a real risk of sinking. But the best was that rich people thought an actual wooden ship with actual canvas sails and a real anchor as tall as a person was quite charming. And they liked to hire it to hold receptions, listen to singers, make speeches and do other things that rich people could afford to do on an unusual, floating venue.
And having learned his trade mostly from books and stumbling around in shallower waters and coastal regions, Terry wasn't especially fussy about the legitimacy of any crew who cared to sign aboard. He had a few permanents who didn't really get paid, except in food and board, and others who did because they knew something about old wooden ships and taught him something new about his adopted trade.
But Aeva had learned her own skills mostly from a book and extrapolation. Sailmaking - or rather repairing - was not so far removed from the business of a seamstress, and so in return for help with his worse-for-wear canvas and some tutoring of himself and his crew, Terry overlooked the fact that Aeva's passport was a fake, that she came aboard with one small bag in which were the precious tools of her trade and that passage, her food and her accommodation were all that she asked in return for everything she was willing to do and teach.
It had been a good plan which worked like a charm, and when she arrived in Moscow, it gave her confidence that the next stage of her plan would also work.
Aeva had been denied a passport by the CCD authorities. She had actually found herself angry and wondered whether it was the activities of her late father, or her oldest brother Karl who she could blame for that. There was the possibility it was Taren, but... well - if the CCD had any idea what he was doing, then she would have been hauled in to answer questions. And if she didn't know where he was or what he was doing, then it was very unlikely that the CCD did, either. Getting a phony passport was more expensive and only a little less difficult than getting a real one!
Eventually she had left word at home that she would be taking a tour with Terry Hinchcliffe, and had decided to trust Terry himself with her destination - after all, it had technically been his decision! If Taren came out of hiding and needed her, that was the only trail she had dared leave.
Aeva also knew that her passport was never going to pass muster with the people at the border control. Illegal immigrants tried to get over the border all the time, were taken to detention and then returned to wherever it was they came from. At least that was the official line, but Aeva couldn't trust that. She was sure some did make it back home... well - she knew they did, but 'some' was not 'all'. She hoped that whoever assisted her in getting into Moscow made it back home - and wished him or her a better life there when they got back.
She was helped by a little teenage goth who reminded her of Karl when he was that age. He made such a fuss about his passport being refused, that Aeva was able to slip unnoticed into another queue, and while the guard looked across to the ruckus, wondering whether he was going to be needed to help put the problem away, she showed her fake ID, which was duly stamped and she was waved along with the rest of the crowd, anxiously looking back to see the boy being restrained and taken away. The man who had let her go was shaking his head and frowning, paying heed to the next woman in the queue.
So Aeva walked out onto the streets of Moscow, heading for the only place an illegal immigrant could go... the Underground City.
Edited by Aeva, Jul 31 2013, 09:45 AM.