NaNo 2007: Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Joe's Bar

To some extent, it's nice to be a bartender again. For one thing, it's a job with set hours and obligations, which he hasn't had in a long time. Even when he still lived on Earth, being an astronaut didn't have set hours, especially because he spent a lot of extra hours working on the theory and the Farscape. More recently, on Moya, he'd been called upon to do anything and everything, at all hours of the day and night (not that there's really a set day and night cycle in space, but everybody tried to keep a sleep schedule that was more or less the same as everybody else's, because otherwise they'd never see each other.). And being a parent only extended that, like he'd always heard it did, although to be honest he doesn't think most parents have to worry about their children drowning in the amnexus fluid or falling in Pilot's den. For another thing, it's a lot easier than a lot of things he's done, and since he'd done it before it's kind of nostalgic to be doing it again.

On the other hand, the hours, while regular, are long. He suspects he would hate it a lot more if he wasn't Immortal, especially after the long and painful lesson in swordfighting he'd gotten earlier in the day, but his bruises and cuts had healed instantly when he'd gotten them, and he suspects that same instant healing is keeping his feet from hurting, somehow, although obviously he can't tell. In fact, other than the twitching eye he feels great.

Mac and the other Immortal are accumulating quite a large collection of empties, but neither of them looks drunk; is this because of the Immortality, or because they've had hundreds of years to build up their tolerance for alcohol? It's something for him to find out, or test personally once he has enough money to actually afford enough alcohol to get him drunk under normal circumstances. God knows he's going to be stuck on this Earth for long enough to earn that much money, since he can't leave until he works out wormholes, at least well enough that he can navigate them; and, perhaps more importantly, he either needs to know how to find a wormhole on Earth or he needs a spaceship. Preferably a ship, especially one he's allowed to modify, because you can never be entirely certain where a wormhole's exit is, and as far as he knows most of them are in space; and even if he doesn't know how to build a Hetch drive, he can manage to eke a bit more vital speed out of the engines with what he's learned.

Finally his shift ends. "Good job, John," Joe says.

"I did some bartending in college."

"Still," Joe replies. "I think you'll work out well until you can find a job that suits you better."

"Thanks, Joe. Same time tomorrow?"

"Sure, that'll be good."

John walks over to Mac's table, both because he's curious about the other Immortal and because he doesn't have a key to Mac's place, where he's staying.

"So, this is your new Immortal, Mac," the other Immortal says, looking him up and down like he hadn't seen him behind the bar earlier. "He doesn't look like much."

"Stop it, M-" The other immortal glares at Mac. "Adam," he corrects himself. John wonders why Mac almost called him by a different name- had he gone by a different name in the past or something?

John shrugs. "It wouldn't be the first time I've been underestimated," he says. "But when it comes down to the wire, who does everybody look to to save them? Me. I've always figured actions speak louder than words."

"You think you're Superman now?" Adam asks. "MacLeod, why are you wasting your time on this idiot? He's going to get himself killed by the first unfriendly Immortal he runs into."

"Too late," John says drily. "And considering I've been Immortal all of a day and a half, and one of the first things that happened to me was getting attacked and almost losing my head, and all of today I spent training and then on top of that going to work, I certainly don't feel like Superman."

"You took a head and Mac didn't buy you a beer to celebrate?" Adam asks, mock shocked. "What's the world coming to when nobody's willing to celebrate a victory in battle?"

"He wasn't my teacher when it happened," John replies. "I thought he was crazy until I took her head."

"Her?" Adam asks. "Was she pretty?"

"I didn't notice. I'm married and I was a bit too busy trying not to get decapitated."

"Well, who was she? Maybe I know her."

"I think she said her name was Morgan Dekker."

Adam freezes, bottle halfway to his mouth.

"Did you know her?" Mac asks.

"Morgan Dekker? She was old; I met her a long time ago, and then left as quickly as I could. And an old, female headhunter? She was good. I'm surprised anybody beat her, much less a new Immortal."

"I had to use her sword," John admits. "I didn't have one of my own."

"And you managed to stay intact? You dodged the sword of somebody who was both good and trying to kill you?"

"She did hit my hand, but dodging a sword is slightly easier than dodging" he almost says pulse pistol fire, but at the last moment he manages to change it to "gun fire."

"He still won't tell us what he was doing that involved dodging gunfire," Mac says, winking at John when Adam isn't looking at him. "But Joe has a theory that he was a bank robber."

"Actually, there was that one time," John says. "But it's nothing that would have been on the news or anything. Stealing from thieves and all that."

"Personally, I just want to know why you were wearing so much leather."

"Oh, you know how it is. When in Rome…"

"The Romans didn't wear much leather, except for the Legionnaires," Adam points out.

"Oh? You know this personally?" Mac asks.

"Well I had to check out the rumors of debauchery personally, you understand," Adam says. "They did know how to party, but they weren't necessarily people you'd want to party with. And I still think gladiatorial fights are only entertaining to those whose lives are nothing like them, and never were in the past. When you've been mauled to death by lions before it isn't exciting to see some other poor schmuck torn to shreds by them."

"I can't imagine it being entertaining, anyway," John says.

"Well, I don't understand why people can be so entertained by the telly, and yet they are. It's all cultural. Live long enough, or be willing to move to another country, and you'll run into forms of entertainment that don't entertain you at all, and all you can do is pretend they do, because they entertain everybody and you don't want to stand out if it's at all avoidable; if you do stand out, they might notice that you never stay injured, or connect you with a string of unsolved murders. And even if witch hunts aren't condoned anymore, there are still lynch mobs, and people aren't going to be happy if they find out you're immortal."

"I suppose you know that from personal experience?"

"Every immortal learns that particular painful lesson firsthand eventually, if they live long enough and if they allow themselves to get close to mortals," Duncan says, the pain of rejection in his eyes. "And people are weird about Immortals, even if they aren't afraid. Especially if they know the whole truth."

"It's usually a lot easier to not tell them anything more than you have to," Adam adds.

I really don't think I'll have a problem once I get back home, John thinks but doesn't say. Even if I tell everybody I possibly can, I'm the only Human, Immortal or otherwise, within 60 years' travel. Everybody else will probably just pass it off as some quirk of humanity, like I'm sure they do with my "Crichtonisms". If I'm still remembered in the Uncharted Territories when humans finally make it out there, I wonder how different the image of humanity will be from the actuality, how much the humans will encounter expectations of them that are completely unrealistic to expect of all humans, but reasonable to expect of me. If I make it back, and I actually am immortal in the sense of living forever, I'll still be around when that happens. I wonder how humans, who undoubtedly would have heard of me after the splash we made on Earth, would react to seeing me still alive.

"People are like that," he says, thinking of the time everybody had been so upset to find out that Aeryn had actually done her job as a Peacekeeper, when she had been a Peacekeeper. Had they thought she'd just sat around and had tea parties or something before then? But if they found learning about something completely unsurprising so upsetting, it's easy to imagine how upsetting people could find learning that their friend or lover or spouse is many times older than they are, and has to kill to stay alive, when they hadn't had any previous warning about it, especially if the way they learn it is by witnessing a Challenge.

"There's no doubt that there are some downsides to being an Immortal," Mac says, obviously trying to inject some optimism into the conversation, "But if we weren't Immortal we'd all be dead already. And I know I've experienced some things I never even imagined before I died my first death."

"Like bathing?" Adam asks, and takes a long pull of his beer.

"Like electricity," Mac replies, giving Adam a dirty look.

"I am glad to have the time to find my wife," John says. "And I think she'll take it relatively well, so there shouldn't be a problem there."

"What makes you think she'll take it well?" Adam asks. "Sometimes the ones you expect to have no problems with it are the ones who start the witch hunt, believe me."

"After all the things we've been through this is only a little bit unusual. Seriously, star crossed lovers does not even begin to describe us."

"Are you insane or something, that you think she'll take your Immortality as only a little bit unusual?"

"Although that's a theory I've heard tossed about a few times for other reasons, I try to avoid listening to the voice inside my head, because Harvey tries to trick me sometimes."

"Hey!" Harvey exclaims. "I haven't tried to trick you in years."

"Because you were dead," John points out.

"True," Harvey concedes.

"All right, guys," Joe says, coming over to their table. "It's closing time now. Adam, are you going to pay your bar tab any time soon?"

"I've got to go now, Mac, sorry," Adam says insincerely. "I just remembered an appointment I'm late for."

"At two in the morning?" Joe asks as Adam practically runs for the door.

"I'm very late," Adam says, the door swinging shut behind him.

"Yeah, I bet," Joe mutters.

Mac pulls some bills out of his wallet and tosses them on the table, just barely missing a ring of condensation. "See you later, Joe." John follows him out to the T-bird.