06-29-2023, 07:25 PM
Carmen had acquired a car during their time in Zongongia, which was certainly useful. They drove down the mountain, joining the fast roads to get south as quickly as possible. It was a drive of several hours, and the sun began to rise halfway to the Lauchenoirian border. This wasn’t an issue; the hard part was getting out of the Palace and that was already done. Imogen fell asleep in the back seat, and Natasha lambasted herself for her own stupidity inside her head.
They reached a sleepy town on the border and parked, wandering down to the boats by the river, looking for a ferry to Lauchenoiria. They found this quickly; the first public boat south was due to depart in a mere half-hour, and was far cheaper than the Robinsons had budgeted for. They didn’t even bother checking their passports – though they did ask if they had some. Apparently, they were much more important for the return journey.
“Lauchenoiria will let anyone and their dog in,” the youth in the booking office told Carmen. “Getting back to Zongongia is harder, so you’ll want to check you have them!”
Carmen assured him they did, choosing not to mention that they intended this to be a one-way trip. It went smoothly, although some large river creature gave Imogen a fright by appearing to the side of the boat all of a sudden. One of the crew members laughed and told her the creature’s name in Spanish, but Imogen didn’t speak the language and didn’t manage to catch the name.
Arrival in Lauchenoiria was distinctly underwhelming. The town they arrived in literally didn’t have any border guards at all. They could just wander into the street without another word said, while someone handed a crate of fish over to a shopkeeper standing by the dock, and a Zongongian mailman had a chat with a Lauchenoirian postwoman while handing her a bulging bag of letters and a trolley of packages.
The Robinsons asked directions to the train station and were pointed past a line of shops; a couple of small businesses interspersed with remaining state-owned stores showing that the transition to full capitalism was not yet complete. Imogen and Camille were hungry, so Natasha stepped into one of the stores to get some breakfast, blinking at the prices which had been haphazardly stuck over the top of old information about state vouchers.
With breakfast acquired, they arrived at the station, which was pretty, but a little run-down. Planters full of colourful flowers were on both platforms, and a hand-painted “welcome” sign in four languages sat next to the official station sign. But the ground was cracked in several places, and the platforms looked as if they’d first been constructed in the 1940s. The whole town gave off vibes that people there cared about it, but the authorities did not.
Trains in Lauchenoiria were blissfully frequent, however, and they managed to board one before the heat picked up. The actual train was much more modern than the station; with a hybrid engine, modern air conditioning, and seating that was perfectly balanced between efficiency in numbers and comfort. Perhaps it wasn’t that the Lauchenoirian government was reluctant to spend money, but rather that they were very precise about what they chose to spend it on.
They paid for their tickets, to which Carmen attempted to correct the conductor that she was buying four, not one, only to be told that was the price for four – or, rather, two, since under-18s travelled for free. He took them for Zongongians, and commented about how expensive things were there, to which Carmen nodded along. Kerlian public transport operated on a whole other system, but it seemed prudent not to mention that.
When they arrived in Melissa City, they had to change to the airport train, which was a fully electrified underground line which shot through the tunnel so quickly, it seemed that hardly any time had passed at all. They got out, and it was somehow still the morning. The journey had taken far less time than anticipated. For all Lauchenoiria’s issues, their public transport system was efficient.
This was the next tricky part. She had to hope that the person selling her the plane tickets either didn’t look too closely at the passports, or didn’t recognise the name. Upon arrival, Carmen scanned for whichever salesperson looked least likely to recognise, landing on a young woman who looked extremely bored. She headed to that desk and asked for four tickets on the next flight to Eiria.
True to impressions, the woman turned to a computer, her expression remaining the same, and looked up the next flight to any Eirian airport that had four free seats.
“I can get you on the 18:28 to New Riga, or if you’re willing to pay for first class there’s still some of those seats on the 13:45 to Geminus,” she recited in a monotone. Carmen took the first-class seats on the earlier flight. She judged spending longer in Lauchenoiria to be more of a danger than flaunting wealth would be. The woman gave their passports such a cursory glance that Carmen didn’t even think she’d registered that they were Kerlians.
They went through security and settled down to eat a proper meal in one of the airport restaurants. Everyone except Carmen was very hungry, and wolfed down the food. Carmen was too nervous to eat much, and her daughters finished off her leftovers. They made their way to the gate, and joined the first-class boarding queue. A pair of businessmen looked at Imogen, scowled, and muttered "Ain leilē, sana dvācana bernei danz lei āršat."
This time, the woman checking the passports did a double-take, and then stared at Carmen, very clearly recognising the name. She scanned the other three faces and then gaped at them, her mouth moving like that of a goldfish. She looked like she wanted to say something to deny them boarding, but she couldn’t quite work out what. Eventually, her colleague asked if she was okay, and she passed the four passports to him. He glanced at them and then at the four Kerlians.
“Go ahead, Ms Robinson,” he said, handing her them back. Then, as they walked ahead, Carmen overheard him say to his colleague “don’t stop them! Better Eiria’s problem than ours!”
And then they were on a flight to Eiria. They settled down, as did everyone else, and Imogen didn’t make a sound to anger the businessmen. They took off, and they were on their way.
They reached a sleepy town on the border and parked, wandering down to the boats by the river, looking for a ferry to Lauchenoiria. They found this quickly; the first public boat south was due to depart in a mere half-hour, and was far cheaper than the Robinsons had budgeted for. They didn’t even bother checking their passports – though they did ask if they had some. Apparently, they were much more important for the return journey.
“Lauchenoiria will let anyone and their dog in,” the youth in the booking office told Carmen. “Getting back to Zongongia is harder, so you’ll want to check you have them!”
Carmen assured him they did, choosing not to mention that they intended this to be a one-way trip. It went smoothly, although some large river creature gave Imogen a fright by appearing to the side of the boat all of a sudden. One of the crew members laughed and told her the creature’s name in Spanish, but Imogen didn’t speak the language and didn’t manage to catch the name.
Arrival in Lauchenoiria was distinctly underwhelming. The town they arrived in literally didn’t have any border guards at all. They could just wander into the street without another word said, while someone handed a crate of fish over to a shopkeeper standing by the dock, and a Zongongian mailman had a chat with a Lauchenoirian postwoman while handing her a bulging bag of letters and a trolley of packages.
The Robinsons asked directions to the train station and were pointed past a line of shops; a couple of small businesses interspersed with remaining state-owned stores showing that the transition to full capitalism was not yet complete. Imogen and Camille were hungry, so Natasha stepped into one of the stores to get some breakfast, blinking at the prices which had been haphazardly stuck over the top of old information about state vouchers.
With breakfast acquired, they arrived at the station, which was pretty, but a little run-down. Planters full of colourful flowers were on both platforms, and a hand-painted “welcome” sign in four languages sat next to the official station sign. But the ground was cracked in several places, and the platforms looked as if they’d first been constructed in the 1940s. The whole town gave off vibes that people there cared about it, but the authorities did not.
Trains in Lauchenoiria were blissfully frequent, however, and they managed to board one before the heat picked up. The actual train was much more modern than the station; with a hybrid engine, modern air conditioning, and seating that was perfectly balanced between efficiency in numbers and comfort. Perhaps it wasn’t that the Lauchenoirian government was reluctant to spend money, but rather that they were very precise about what they chose to spend it on.
They paid for their tickets, to which Carmen attempted to correct the conductor that she was buying four, not one, only to be told that was the price for four – or, rather, two, since under-18s travelled for free. He took them for Zongongians, and commented about how expensive things were there, to which Carmen nodded along. Kerlian public transport operated on a whole other system, but it seemed prudent not to mention that.
When they arrived in Melissa City, they had to change to the airport train, which was a fully electrified underground line which shot through the tunnel so quickly, it seemed that hardly any time had passed at all. They got out, and it was somehow still the morning. The journey had taken far less time than anticipated. For all Lauchenoiria’s issues, their public transport system was efficient.
This was the next tricky part. She had to hope that the person selling her the plane tickets either didn’t look too closely at the passports, or didn’t recognise the name. Upon arrival, Carmen scanned for whichever salesperson looked least likely to recognise, landing on a young woman who looked extremely bored. She headed to that desk and asked for four tickets on the next flight to Eiria.
True to impressions, the woman turned to a computer, her expression remaining the same, and looked up the next flight to any Eirian airport that had four free seats.
“I can get you on the 18:28 to New Riga, or if you’re willing to pay for first class there’s still some of those seats on the 13:45 to Geminus,” she recited in a monotone. Carmen took the first-class seats on the earlier flight. She judged spending longer in Lauchenoiria to be more of a danger than flaunting wealth would be. The woman gave their passports such a cursory glance that Carmen didn’t even think she’d registered that they were Kerlians.
They went through security and settled down to eat a proper meal in one of the airport restaurants. Everyone except Carmen was very hungry, and wolfed down the food. Carmen was too nervous to eat much, and her daughters finished off her leftovers. They made their way to the gate, and joined the first-class boarding queue. A pair of businessmen looked at Imogen, scowled, and muttered "Ain leilē, sana dvācana bernei danz lei āršat."
This time, the woman checking the passports did a double-take, and then stared at Carmen, very clearly recognising the name. She scanned the other three faces and then gaped at them, her mouth moving like that of a goldfish. She looked like she wanted to say something to deny them boarding, but she couldn’t quite work out what. Eventually, her colleague asked if she was okay, and she passed the four passports to him. He glanced at them and then at the four Kerlians.
“Go ahead, Ms Robinson,” he said, handing her them back. Then, as they walked ahead, Carmen overheard him say to his colleague “don’t stop them! Better Eiria’s problem than ours!”
And then they were on a flight to Eiria. They settled down, as did everyone else, and Imogen didn’t make a sound to anger the businessmen. They took off, and they were on their way.
LIDUN President 2024 | she/her | Puppets: Kerlile, Glanainn, Yesteria, Zongongia, Zargothrax