CHAPTER 18 - PORT JURANG TOWN

The Omega team of Kees and Macboy had seen enough of the secret sims on the edge of Second Life. The Second Sea Lord would be waiting for their report and it was time to return to Capital City and the Long White Hall. They had left their overlooking observation point after midnight. The far skyline of the hidden sims had become quiet although it was clear that their building efforts were incomplete. Security was clearly present in the secret sims, but the bulk of the workforce had disappeared. By dawn Kees and Macboy were four sims away to the north. And by the following morning they were at the port of Jurang.

Jurang port town was a typical port village on the edge of existence. A small plaza of white stone which lead to the stone pier was surrounded by a few buildings. A pub called the Elven Nose, a blindingly white and completely empty Church of Ohm, and about a dozen thatched roof stone houses made up the hamlet. Sooty smoke was coming from the chimneys of three houses. Except for the ferry dock the town appeared deserted. The fishing fleet was still out. A fish canning factory could be seen on an estuary but it looked closed.

There was a small crowd at the ferry building and a lot of very angry shouting. The ferry was late. Kees dropped his rucksack on a slight rise above the port and sat down to observe. Macboy strolled slowly down the road to the pier facing the inland sea. Macboy paused and sat on a wooden bench just opposite the loading dock of the overdue ferry. Macboy fished for his tobacco and papers and began to fumble making a cigarette. Macboy scratched his head and rubbed his right ear. Then Macboy yawned. Slowly he untied a shoelace on his hiking boots. Kees looked to the right and he saw three avatars who clearly did not belong in this simple fishing village on the edge of a cod fishery and a smelt canning factory. The avatars were dressed in city clothing, with city shoes, and city posture. They didn’t belong here and they were watching the village with outsiders eyes. The city people seemed not to be concerned with the late ferry, but were watching the pier closely as if they expected the smelt from the factory to make a run for freedom. Kees recognized amateur security when he saw it. They were packing heat, but they did not do a very good job of concealing it. Amateurs good enough to fool the locals. Dangerous, but still amateurs.

Four local fisherfolk with several baskets of yesterday’s fresh cod, were arguing with the ticket booth attendant on the pier. The ferry had been delayed, the fisherfolk and Macboy heard the attendant say. No, he didn’t know what the problem was because the message systems were down again. The ticket agent was urging patience and was offering a discount for tickets purchased today. No one was taking him up on the offer. The ferry was a boat and this was a town of fisherfolk who understood the fickle seas.

“Any time now,” Macboy heard the ticket agent say. The fisher folk were getting upset as the sun sucked the last hint of freshness from their day old glazed eyed cod. Macboy finally had a smokeable cigarette and he fished about for his matches. No matches were to be found. Macboy swore just loud enough to be heard. Then Macboy stood and walked to the odd men out – the amateur security. Kees suppressed a smile, but slowly unlaced the right pocket on the rucksack.

Just before Macboy reached the security group he stumbled on his shoelace and began to swear. Macboy had their attention. He stood and brushed the dirt and gravel from his trousers. His hand rolled cigarette in his mouth was bent at a 40 degree angel.

“Hey,” said Macboy to one of the avatars in a green suit, “got a light.”

The avatar who was wearing a dull green sharkskin suit with a yellow plaid tie and blue starched shirt replied, “No, those things will kill you.”

“Yeh, but we all die anyway,” said Macboy with a stupid laugh. Macboy turned and stumbled again. The security group burst out in ugly laughter. Macboy stood and kneeled to tie his errant shoelace. Macboy returned to the bench and sat down and got comfortable like he was going to take a snooze in the warm morning sun. Macboy scratched various bits of his body and rubbed his hands a bit. Then he yawned and appeared to fall to sleep with the bent cigarette still clinging to his lower lip. Macboy looked like a lazy idiot trying to sober up from a night of hard drinking at the Elven Nose Pub in the village.

Kees read the signs from Macboy. “Three packing P99’s, two more in the church tower with Tippman 98’s. Green is in charge.”

After about half an hour Macboy woke up and ambled off to the Elven Nose. The ancient wooden door to the pub was bleached white by the sun and sea. It was almost 10 oclock and a young well endowed girl in a dirndl with scarlet hair was wiping an empty table next to the crackling fire. There were only two patrons sitting in the snuggery doing some snogging. The pub was clean and with a fresh smell of springtime even though it was fall outside. Garlands of dried flowers decorated the bar.

“Vedui' il'er,” said Macboy in the old tounge.

The young woman with flashing green eyes looked up. She smiled and straightened her posture. She was single Macboy could tell and the gene pickings in Jurang Port were slim.

“ 'Quel amrunm” the girl replied. “Not many visitors know the old language.” She shook her long red tresses just a bit.

Macboy sat at the table by the fire and stretched a bit in the warmth of the fire and her reception. “I’m Macboy Jewell, I’m on holiday hiking the hills nearby. Ill have a pint,” he said.

“Saesa omentien lle,” she replied. “My name is Irish, Irish Spring,” she said with a bit of a lilt and a twinkle of her nose ring. She turned and slowly walked to the bar where she picked up a spotless pint glass and began to fill it from an amber fountain.

She returned with the pint. She leaned forward a bit too far for simple serving and placed the pint before Macboy. Irish’s long red hair brushed the lip of the glass. She grabbed a chair and sat down. She wanted to talk.

“What’s with the ferry?” asked Macboy.

She sighed, “No one knows. We haven’t seen the “We’re Here,” in two days. Perhaps Captain Troop is sick or something. The weather has been fine.”

She leaned forward a bit to make sure that Macboy could fully appreciate her fresh country girl assets.

Fecund thought Macboy.

“I kind of like it quiet this way,” Irish said.

Macboy took a long sip of the ale. The amber elixir was full-bodied with a grainy, malty sweetness and a taste of honeysuckle. “Very nice, quite tasty,” Macboy said placing his glass onto the worn wooden table and looking intensely into Irish’s eyes.

Irish caught Macboy’s drift and blushed. Not the blush of embarrassment, but the blush of anticipation.

“My da comes in at noon,” she said. “I could show you around the village. The sights you know.”

Macboy smiled and replied, “Lle naa vanima.”

Irish positively beamed.

Kees remained on the hillock. He pulled out a shirt from the pack and a needle and thread and began to carefully darn several holes. The security took an interest in him at first, but after he started darning his old socks they paid no further attention.

Kees noticed that just after noon Macboy exited the Elven Nose with a lovely young red haired lass. They were holding hands and she was motioning all about the village and laughing. A tour, thought Kees as he chuckled under his breath. Macboy was very good at research in small villages and hamlets throughout Second Life. In about half an hour the young girl and Macboy had circumnavigated the entire town square and they turned onto the gravel road that lead gently up the green hillside toward a large barn and hay ricks in the distance. Research in depth thought Kees.

Kees gathered up his darning and his rucksack and headed down to the town square. He paused at the small fountain in the center of the village and took a closer look at the village chapel. The two avatars in the belfry were sleeping. The three on the ground by the pier looked bored. Nothing was happening here and Kees decided that the ferry was not coming today. Perhaps it would never come Kees realized.