Thread: Asking for Directions {darkangel76 & Alan23}

Galvie had finished his ham and eggs when the guard appointed for the day, one Corporal Gregory, approached him, accompanied by three privates, all with loaded and leveled carbines. Galvie tensed, expecting that he was to be punished, perhaps suspecting that Miss Hammond had taken some slight in response to his levity of the day before, and had ordered something he'd dislike. He knew they couldn't whip him, for that would leave fresh scars that would be difficult to explain, but there were plenty of things that four strapping troopers might do to an unarmed man that hurt, and yet left no mark. Therefore it came as a huge relief to him that the soldiers simply escorted him to a small, rectangular and roofless, canvas tent, in which a kind of eccentric shower-unit had been set up. He was not to be allowed a razor - for reasons that he could well understand - but soap, shampoo and deodorant were provided. He was, of course, forced to make his ablutions with the troopers looking on, though even then they had the decency to keep stone-faced and not make any insulting remarks. In truth, their credibility would have suffered if they had since Galvie, in all truth, was not the sort of man that others laugh at when naked. In fact, he almost fancied he caught a gleam of envy in their eyes! After a shower and shampoo, his belly full, he felt that life as a traveling prisoner of the Amerikan nation could well have been worse. This was, in fact, a situation that very much confirmed the veracity of the old proverb that it was better to travel than to arrive! There was, however, a slight logistical issue that made itself felt. Namely that the shower-head, which was none too accurate, had caused the walls of the canvas erection and its dirt floor to become saturated, which meant that he could not really dress without getting his own clothing wet. Corporal Gregory, almost apologetically, explained that it was not possible, given the resources available, to provide him with a dressing room, whereupon Galvie, realizing that they were doing their best to treat him with dignity and kindness pointed out that having served in the military himself he was by no means over-modest or shy, and was quite happy to dress in the open air. After a vigorous toweling, he donned his pants and boots, and began cleaning his teeth at a basin perched on a tree-stump. This duty performed, he was just reaching for his shirt when the soldiers around him snapped to attention. Galvie's eyes shot up at this - had the Colonel suddenly ordered a snap inspection? Was he so insistent on pointless discipline that he conducted regular inspections even when on active service? Yet he had heard no bugle call, nor were the soldiers saluting, as was mandatory when a senior officer passed. Then what - Following the direction of Corporal Gregory's eyes solved the mystery. At a snapped command from the Corporal, Galvie too snapped to attention, though considering that he was in civilian garb there was no actual requirement to. He stood there, with his flat stomach and highly ripped, well defined chest muscles, his strong arms clasped firmly to his side, and a single trickle of water running down from his hair, making a small creek along his chest, seeking his navel as a reservoir. No, it was not the Colonel at all. Instead, he saw approaching an unmistakeable figure. A vision in lacy pink, picking her way carefully and fastidiously through the horse-dung that littered the temporary bivouac, her nose held proudly in the air, the tightness of her attire forcing her to walk as if she were on a fashionable street in Chicago or Boston rather than a patch of scrub land in the middle of who-knew-where. A figure that had haunted his dreams the night before. And whom, now seen again in reality, he registered as being even more haughtily beautiful than even his Morpheic imaginations had credited her. For, making her way towards him, accompanied by two guards, was the unmistakeable figure of Miss Andromeda Elizabeth Schaeffer Hammond, Ambassador to the Nation of Annesland. And here he was he was amused to notice only half dressed. Still, he mused, it might have been worse. She could have come along a few minutes earlier!