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Eighteenth evolution of sail - in tatters
Mar. 16th, 2014 07:48 pm[Bush's communicator does not show the pile of letters he tried to write-- hand-written apologies, requests for conversation, simple statements of his continued regard-- only his ink-stained fingers, showing because his chin is propped heavy on his fist, attest to his failures.
And so there are no private messages to Iris, to Barbara, to Zane, to the Emperor-- only his haggard face on the video, all stripped of the insulating good nature he uses to cushion the oddities of the barge. He is the harsh, stoic seaman who trod the deck of Nonsuch now; not unkind, but not smiling.]
I daresay there's a few of you now that that's your first breach. It is a nasty shock and no preparing for it. It's not unlike a hurricane, the sensation that you're in the hands of forces beyond your control.
As in a hurricane, try to keep your head, breathe, and cling to something solid as soon as you catch hold. Look out for your friends. There ain't stopping these events any more than the sea.
I am sorry, you newer ones. I am sorry for you.
[Private to Hornblower]
[He does manage this one message, feeling he's less to answer for in this case. And there is his duty -- to Jones, yes, but also to young Hornblower, and if Bush fussed over Hornblower like a hen with one chick when Hornblower was his commanding officer and only a few years his junior, that worry and affectionate meddling is doubled now that Hornblower is a Lieutenant and nearly twenty years the younger. He is the concerned senior officer now.]
That was a bad blow, Lieutenant, a bad way to have your first breach. Are you all right?
[And Private to Captain Jones]
[This is the easiest message of all. Duty has always been simple for him; it overrules little pains and heartbreaks.]
Didn't see you about during the breach, Jones-- tell me if you're the worse for wear.
And so there are no private messages to Iris, to Barbara, to Zane, to the Emperor-- only his haggard face on the video, all stripped of the insulating good nature he uses to cushion the oddities of the barge. He is the harsh, stoic seaman who trod the deck of Nonsuch now; not unkind, but not smiling.]
I daresay there's a few of you now that that's your first breach. It is a nasty shock and no preparing for it. It's not unlike a hurricane, the sensation that you're in the hands of forces beyond your control.
As in a hurricane, try to keep your head, breathe, and cling to something solid as soon as you catch hold. Look out for your friends. There ain't stopping these events any more than the sea.
I am sorry, you newer ones. I am sorry for you.
[Private to Hornblower]
[He does manage this one message, feeling he's less to answer for in this case. And there is his duty -- to Jones, yes, but also to young Hornblower, and if Bush fussed over Hornblower like a hen with one chick when Hornblower was his commanding officer and only a few years his junior, that worry and affectionate meddling is doubled now that Hornblower is a Lieutenant and nearly twenty years the younger. He is the concerned senior officer now.]
That was a bad blow, Lieutenant, a bad way to have your first breach. Are you all right?
[And Private to Captain Jones]
[This is the easiest message of all. Duty has always been simple for him; it overrules little pains and heartbreaks.]
Didn't see you about during the breach, Jones-- tell me if you're the worse for wear.
