As Related by Solomon del Eden’d, Grand Logothete of the Skarsian Matriarchy
Benbow walks into the Moth and Lamp. « We’re back, » he declares. « Give me a Sea Slug Ale. »
« That’s a decent one, but not my favorite. Number 127 on the Beers of the Galaxy card. »
« How many more to finish? » he asks.
« 312. »
« Way to take something fun and make it into an ordeal. »
« I think that’s part of the lesson. But now that I’ve started, I’d better finish. It would be terrible for someone else to go back to the beginning. »
« You’re probably one of the few who could do it, » says Dermot. « Can you see Hurley trying? He’d do it out of order, and lose the card after the fifth one. »
Benbow orders an Anchor and Barnacle Stout. I order a Nebula Pils. Benbow is drinking at twice the rate I am.
« Seamen have notable tolerance, » he says. « Also, the alcohol is only affecting me if I want it to. It seems like this is a brutal task to assign to someone with a human body. Did Ashtara really think it through? »
« I and I has reasons for everything, » says Dermot.
Dermot is taking one sip for every beer I drink. He really doesn’t like beer or hanging around in pubs. Maybe he feels responsible for giving up on this achievement. Maybe he feels responsible for me. It’s depressing. I didn’t mean to make him feel guilty.
It’s only a crush. It’s not like we mean anything to each other.
The bardroid clicks, whirls, wheels away. It’s one of those kitschy robots designed to look archetypically robot-like. Instead of legs, it has a pinion with a thick wheel-base. It rolls down the bar and begins to dry tumblers with a dishrag. That’s a nostalgia routine, too. All the glassware will have been auto-sterilized the moment the robot retrieved it.
Benbow smirks, winks, and drinks most of the beer in my glass. When the bartender turns back towards us, Benbow sips his own pint, looking innocent. « I think these quest achievements are all about teamwork, » he says.
I gulp the rest of the beer and order the next one on the list, a Pulsar Porter.
« I’ll take a McKendry Red, » says Benbow. He’s done with his own already? « I have a question for you guys. How do you really feel about Tara? »
I don’t even know how to respond. It’s like asking how my capillaries are feeling this morning. How are the alveoli in my lungs?
« My love for her is eternally unrequited, » says Dermot. « I believe that to be intentional. It allows I and I to have a broader perception of romance. »
The robot rolls into the storeroom. Benbow quickly gulps down my porter.
« I kind of like it, » I stammer. « Being in love with Tara. It’s like being swept away by something so powerful it makes me feel giddy. »
« Then it’s like the ocean? » Benbow asks. « I’ll have another Anchor and Barnacle. »
« I’ll take the Atomic Half-Life Lite. And I’m not sure since I’ve never been on the ocean. Unfortunately, I can’t access your branch to experience it right now. »
« The ocean is an adequate metaphor, as far as it goes, » says Dermot. « But there aren’t really any adequate metaphors. Love is a rose. It’s the Chellini shift point. It’s the sunset over Terbak’s Peak, the highest mountain on Frangfrang. Humanity is continually exhausting its supply of metaphors, and it’s all in futility. »
« You’re just talking about love, though. We’re talking about Tara. »
« So when you raise the ineffable to the power of the miraculous, what do you get? » asks Dermot. « Do you see why we can’t explain that to you? You have to see for yourself. »
Nash walks into the Moth and Lamp. « We’re back, » he declares, placing a box upon the table. « I figured you guys would be drinking on an empty stomach, so I stopped by the café and picked up some dessert. »
« I’ll take a HappiHappiAle. In fact, make that a round of HappiHappiAles for my friends here. »
Nash unpacks the box. The pastry boats are the type of thing you’d expect from a shop like that, but then the most incredible things start to appear. Nau’gsh poached in honey and brandy with chocumber syrup. Ice cream sundaes. Somehow, they emerge perfect, undamaged, from the little box.
« I’m surprised the ice cream’s not melting, » says Nash. « I tried to get the panini, but it seems like they were out. »
« Panini? » says Dermot. « For dessert? »
« Grilled nau’gsh served with chocumber spread. Healthy, yet delicious. Unfortunately, it will probably be off the menu until my liver spontaneously combusts. »
« This is good ice cream, » says Benbow. « I like the hot nau’gsh sauce. »
« I wish I could get rid of the cherry, » sighs Nash. « It’s like plastic soaked in sugar syrup. »
« An adequate metaphor for virginity, » says Dermot.
The robot turns its back. Benbow drinks the rest of my beer, then plucks the cherries from everyone’s sundae and puts them in his mouth.
« Barkeep, » he says, « this is inefficient. Let’s just have all of the remaining beers lined up on the counter. »
« That will take some time, Sir, » says the robot. « The remaining beers on the card are all synthesized on demand. »
« Well, you’d better get to it, » Benbow insists.
The robot brings a Vemboth’s Eternal Flame and turns to mind the synthesizer. I take a sip; Benbow grabs it and quaffs half. He passes it to Nash, who drinks the other half.
When the robot returns with an Arthvean Twostump Lager, Benbow is feeding a nau’gsh crème pastry boat to Nash.
I’m starting to feel a little tipsy. At this point, I’d usually go outside for a walk and a breath of fresh air.
« I just asked Cüinn, » says Dermot. « A small sip of each remaining choice will still require the consumption of approximately 1.5674 liters of beer. Tarlach says he feels this task is irresponsible. »
« More irresponsible than fighting the Robot of Doom? » asks Nash. « More irresponsible than killing rambats in hand-to-hand combat? »
The bardroid brings a pint of Ramjet Gold. « Tarlach is puritanical, » says Benbow, downing the beer before I can touch it.
« You have to leave a little, » chastises Dermot, lowering his voice. « He has to at least try them all. »
« I don’t think you understand the stakes here, » says Nash. He picks up a slice of honey-poached nau’gsh, dangles it over his open mouth and slurps it like an oyster. Dermot turns red.
« The point is that Solomon has got to get through all this beer before we can get to the sex, » says Benbow, intercepting the Volparnu Eisbier.
I manage to grab a sip of the Eisbier before it’s gone. Then I realize that the alcohol has delayed my reaction time and muddied my thinking. « Sex? What sex? »
« Daniel says we should help our fellows, » says Nash. « Hurley says to bring dessert. I figure that as the new branch on the block, I should take good advice when it’s given. »
« Even I know they’re talking about sex, » says Benbow, « and I’m really green. I had sex with Tara once. I haven’t had an opportunity to experience the hardcore PPP scene, though. »
« I heard it’s just not the same with Sloane gone, » says Nash. « That gang is hanging out at Beat’s, but that’s more of a music thing than a sex thing. Sloane was the man. »
« He’ll be back soon, » says Benbow. « He bedded Aran. Now that takes balls. In the meantime, I’ve heard that Ace has a little thing going at his place. »
Nash leans over conspiratorially. « The real ticket is to the exclusive get-togethers at Ailann’s. I heard that Harsh got Beat invited to that. »
« What? » says Dermot. « Why haven’t I heard about any of this? »
« Because your naiveté is like a force bubble, » says Benbow.
« Like a condom, » says Nash. « In a week, I picked up more juicy information than you’ve managed in nineteen years. »
« That’s not entirely fair, » I manage to blurt out. « Back in Dermot’s day, there was no such thing as an orientation manual. »
« We didn’t really have PPP then, » says Dermot. « Or if we did, it wasn’t something we talked about. »
« You mean the way that everyone used to ignore Evan rubbing himself off against Daniel’s leg? » says Nash.
« Shhhhh! » says Dermot.
So fascinated have I been by this conversation that I failed to notice Benbow and Nash intercepting four more beers.
« Is this even going to work if he doesn’t drink the beers? » whispers Dermot.
« The achievement says to fill up the card, » says Nash. « If the robot stamps it, it counts. »
I’m starting to feel a wonderful warmth spreading inside – the knowledge that I have friends who have come to my aid in my time of need, friends who seem to have every intention of debauching me sexually when all this is done. Or maybe I’ve had a little too much beer.
« So anyways, » says Benbow, « the thing about Tara…»
« You’re not on about that again? » says Nash. « You’re a sloppy drunk. »
« I am not drunk, » says Benbow, chugging another pint.
« You are clearly drunk, » refutes Nash. « Blitzed, holepunched, buffered, hammered. »
« It’s interesting, » says Dermot, « that we’ve run out of adequate metaphors for love, but adequate metaphors for inebriation just keep spawning. »
« Only three hundred beers to go, » says Benbow.
The robot rolls up to us empty-handed. « I regret to inform you that we’ve run out of alcoholic beverage base, » it says. « We won’t be getting a resupply until tomorrow. »
« Cheaters never win, » says Dermot.
« Today is also the last day of the Beers of the Galaxy promotion, » the barkeep continues. « But since it’s not your fault that you couldn’t complete the requirements, management has told me to stamp the rest of your card as a courtesy. »
I stick out my tongue at Dermot. Benbow drops a slice of poached nau’gsh onto it.
“Solomon del Eden’d, Grand Logothete of the Skarsian Matriarchy. 48th to emanate, 27 in the color scale, resonates to 103. 1.752 meters tall, cock size 15.68 cm when erect, apparent age 32. Design consultant. Totem is Dracaena cinnabari, the dragon’s blood tree, fixed star is Rastaban, the head of the snake. Esoteric symbol is the geomantic glyph Caput Draconis, the head of the dragon. Dessert is grilled nau’gsh dessert panini with chocumber spread. Function is visionary inertia, proto-conscious tendency is introspection, designated Wisdom. Blazon is dragon’s blood, within a bordure or, a divine spiral, or.”
« Fascinating, » says Tarlach. « I and I is willing to circumvent His own ends if it facilitates inter-branch bonding. »
« What next? » I ask, wobbling a little as I stand.
« I think it’s fair to say, » replies Benbow, « that you owe us dessert. »
Further Curious Tales of the Chevalier’s Arbor: The Weaver’s Calling