EdgarWardenLythamMeetingThe back of the store was hidden behind a striped curtain. Soon after the bell on the door signalled the customers' arrival, the curtain parted and the store's owner appeared. He was short, stout, and bald, wearing a simple white shirt and dark trousers. As he approached Warden and Edgar, he brushed off his clothes and put on an eager smile. "Greetings, gentlemen! Welcome! Are you looking for something ready to wear, or can I interest you in some custom clothing?" Edgar nodded toward Warden. "I'm good, it's for my new friend here." Warden looked at some of the sturdier work attire. "I'm mainly looking for coveralls. Duckcloth or oilskin if you have it, canvas if not... Oh, and plenty of pockets. Also..." He turned to the shopkeep. "Basic skivvies, some sturdy gloves and a good pair of boots." "And make sure it isn't anything that will brand him an off-worlder from the get-go," Edgar warned, but with a friendly smile. The shopkeeper held his hands up in mock offense. "Oh no! Not I. Not in this shop!" "I'm not too concerned with standing out." Warden shrugged. "I have a feeling people are gonna figure out I'm no abbi the second I open my mouth." He gave an odd smile and spread his hands in a gesture of grudging acceptance. "I think it's kinda obvious." Walking around Warden, the shopkeeper took a few visual measurements and wandered off. He could be seen pulling things out of drawers and draping them over his shoulder. "As far as business goes," Warden paused to scratch at his wool jumper again. "I don't suppose you could tell me how to get in touch with a Lord Cre... Crayon, cretin, creole?" He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Creoni! Lord Creoni." "Lord Creoni?" Edgar shrugged. "I know the name, but have never been introduced. My father might know. I can ask him if he knows him and if he can give you a letter of introduction." "I found a few items that should work for you, sir," the tailor called, walking back to where Warden and Edgar were waiting. "If you please follow me, you can give them a try." He led Warden through the curtain and placed a pile of clothing on a heavy wooden bench. A plain looking glass stood nearby. "I'll give you your privacy, but please call if you need assistance," the tailor said, retreating through the curtain. As Edgar waited for Warden to come out of the fitting room, another man sauntered into the shop. He looked to be about Edgar's own age, tall and willowy, light-haired and light-eyed. He gave Edgar a nod and a quick smile of acknowledgement before addressing the shopkeeper. "Hullo, Martin, here I am again. I need Badlands gear this time." Edgar nodded in response. "Ah, David!" The shopkeeper rubbed his hands together. "Badlands, you say? Let me see what I can do." He started to wander toward a display of more rugged clothing when he looked back over his shoulder. "I hate to ask, but is this going to be on your account again?" The young man smirked. "Not this time. This time, you can send the bill to Aquila Awake!" 'Badlands' and 'Aquila Awake!' caught Edgar's attention. "Oh, are you going to the reception for Kate Calloway?" Edgar asked and then added, "Are we supposed to dress in costume?" The young man gave him a quick, assessing look before answering good-humoredly, "The guests aren't, no. I'm booked as part of the entertainment." He gave a sort of half-bow. "David Lytham, at your service." Then he broke into a grin, stuck out his hand and in an entirely different accent added, "But y'all c'n call me 'Slim'." "Edgar Bahlmis, nice to meet you." Edgar grinned as he shook his hand. Lytham's eyebrows flicked upward. "Bahlmis? Really? My ears didn't deceive me, then ... you are from offworld." "So... Slim... I don't want to ruin the fun, though I'm dying to know... what type of entertainment?" He leaned back against a counter. "Well, I shouldn't go telling tales," said Lytham. "But I'll go so far as to say 'Badlands entertainment'. A display of skill. Hence the costume." He tilted his head toward the still rummaging shopkeeper. Warden stepped out of the fitting room wearing a set of brown oilskin coveralls and heavy leather boots. Long used to nano-touch seals and zippers, he fumbled a little with the buttons on the stiff fabric before managing. "These'll work." He looked to the tailor and nodded. "I'll take them. I'll probably be back later for some custom work, though. More pockets, reinforced sections... That sort of thing." With a sigh of relief, he tossed the wool jumper on the counter next to Edgar. "Much better. So, who's your friend?" The willowy young man who'd been talking to Edgar turned to regard Warden curiously, then turned an expectant look on Edgar, obviously hoping for an introduction. "Yeah, those look much more practical than that awful jumpsuit." Edgar grinned at Warden. "Oh, and this is David, aka 'Slim'. He's an entertainer?" He stated the last with a bit of a question. "David, meet Warden... just met him up at the space port, he's just arrived," Edgar added, though that was obvious to anyone. Warden looked at the young man and held out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Slim." Warden was so used to aliases that he automatically went with it. "Entertainer, eh? What type?" "I'm an actor, primarily," said Lytham, taking Warden's hand in a firm grip. "But I try to be ... versatile." "I can understand trying to be versatile. I'm an engineer, primarily dealing wth upgrades to starships." Warden chuckled. "I don't think I'll see many of them around here." "Not outside of the spaceport, no," Lytham agreed. "On the other hand, we lost an iron foundry not too long ago..." |
