8:01 PM Friday, September 20, 2075 - Czech Republic
After showering and dressing again in his tuxedo (which Illeana brought), James climbs into the back of a Rolls Royce Phaeton. Instead of returning to the library, Illeana and James are driven to Old Town Square. It is a cobblestone plaza surrounded by red-roofed buildings. It is a pleasant summer evening with just a hint of fall in the air. The plaza is densely packed with a cheerful festival. It does not look like the place for two people in formal attire, but the mood is more celebratory than rowdy.
"Oktoberfest," Illeana says, studying the banners. James feels a rush of anticipation from his nanites, who cry out in unison for beer.
Edsger turns around from the front seat as the limo rolls to a stop. "Miss Anghelescu, you knew this once, but be mindful of what you say. You have grown in willfulness since I knew you last. Remember what they say about dragons -"
"Never to deal with them?" Illeana interrupts, thinking that it's too far too late for that.
"No," Edsger says, a bit put off by the expression. "Rather that they follow a reliable policy of 'don't ask, tell'."
"I see," Illeana says tightly.
On the plaza there is a large glass box in a highly modern design. After James and Illeana are let out and work their way through the crowd, they see that it is a restaurant. They can see through from one side to the other, with the exception of a large aquarium in the center of the restaurant that must be 60,000 liters or more. Above, as the ceiling, another broad aquarium tank covers the entire building. A blue neon sign announces the restaurant as Akvárium. Inside, James can see waitstaff in red tuxedo jackets tending to the formally-dressed patrons, who dine as fish swim above and around them. In the front window, sitting alone in a booth, is the dwarven form of Schwartzkopf.
Inside, the atmosphere is far different than it was in the library. Instead of an air of cattiness and social backstabbing, there is a positive buzz of exclusivity and excitement. James can tell that the presence of the dragon is causing a stir among the restaurant patrons. Outside, on the plaza, tourists and other gawkers use the advancing darkness (the sun having set an hour earlier) and the Oktoberfest crowd as cover to take covert photos of the dragon.
The maître d' practically snaps his spine by straightening up when James and Illeana walk in. "Right this way," he says breathlessly, as if a moment's delay might cost him dearly. He shows the pair to the dragon's table in the front window. James notes how the table density is somewhat less than he would expect, and concludes that a ring of tables has been cleared away to provide the esteemed guest with an added degree of privacy.
"Ah, welcome," Schwartzkopf says as he stands to welcome the pair.
"You have been waiting," Illeana says nervously, aware that they should have been waiting for the dragon, not vice versa.
"Think nothing of it," Schwartzkopf says with a dismissive wave. He invites the pair to sit, and they do.
"I have taken the liberty of ordering," he confesses with an air of mild admission. "I am eager to dispense with the pleasantries and jump to the matter at hand. Namely, I wish to discuss your plans for when you leave Prague."
Wine arrives almost immediately. Some is poured for Illeana, likely for appearances. James can feel the almost unconscious disappointment of the nanites.
"A toast as we begin," Schwartzkopf says, raising his glass. Illeana seems highly conscious of being watched by so many people both inside and outside of the restaurant. She raises her glass too.
"To mutual understanding," the dwarf says in that vague way that dragons do when speaking about matters far beyond the comprehension of their listeners. The trio clink glasses. Illeana raises her glass to her lips and fakes a sip before setting it back down.
The first course arrives. The waiter introduces it as tuna sashimi with tapioca, radish, and parsley mayonnaise. Illeana lifts an eyebrow to James, then takes a bite. He realizes that she must not be wearing her mask, and that she must be willing to spend the evening vomiting in order to not appear out-of-place here.
"We have discussed this before, you and I," Schwartzkopf says pointedly to Illeana once the waiters depart. "My students know that I detest repeating myself, but given your unique circumstances we must have the conversation once again. You are in the rare position where you have many more years to fill than the average metahuman. Of all the things you must be on guard against, do not forget boredom and complacency. They are insidious.
"Look to the great dragons for inspiration," he says with no embarrassment. "Lofwyr accumulates. Sirrurg chose to pursue justice in his own way. I have busied myself with my studies, because I have found the pleasures of material possessions to be fleeting."
There is no break in his speech, and James can tell that Schwartzkopf is here to deliver a lecture as a professor would. James recognizes the pattern immediately from Illeana's lessons, and wonders if she inherited the style from Schwartzkopf.
"Your Bible offers some insight on the matter," Schwartzkopf says warmly as the second course arrives. (James notes the word 'your' and reasons that Schwartzkopf must mentally assign the Bible to the human race rather than to a specific culture or author.) "Ecclesiastes, particularly Chapter 2. But, really, the whole book of Ecclesiastes is a marvel. Far, far ahead of its time. I am sorry that I missed the writing of it." He shakes his head sadly at the thought.
"But whereas the Kohelet of Ecclesiastes laments that even the wise must die, the situation is different for you and I." He smiles to Illeana. "You had great potential before, and I see that same potential in you now even after your recent loss. It may take you a while to capitalize on it - a hundred years, surely - but what are centuries to you and I?"
James is feeling decidedly left out of this conversation. He looks down and sees that the second course is roasted langoustine with celery and licorice.
"To that end, I would propose an alliance of sorts. That we continue to work together and show each other preference. You may not remember every instance in your past, but you have an indispensable gift of finding yourself in remarkable situations. Think of me when you do, that is all I ask." Schwartzkopf lifts his wine glass to the notion.
"Dragons don't ask, they tell," Illeana shoots back immediately with more piquancy than James expected.
Schwartzkopf looks surprised, then annoyed, then sets his glass back down. The approaching server recognizes the look and spins on his heel. He retreats with the third course, whatever it was, lest he be caught in the crossfire.
"That is hardly fair," Schwartzkopf says defensively.
"So why are we eating in public?" Illeana asks with a bemused smile, swallowing her langoustine. "In the front window of a glass box on one of the city's busiest plazas, with the year's biggest festival just meters away? You are announcing our alliance for all the world to see."
There's a long pause while Schwartzkopf decides whether he's affronted or amused or offended or entertained. James realizes that the waiters are doing their best to spy on the proceedings from the opposite side of the aquarium in the middle of the restaurant, as if it might somehow protect them if the conversation goes poorly. Finally, after what feels like ages but is only a minute, Schwartzkopf cracks a smile.
"You have changed," he says, more paternal than patronizing. James wonders if he can detect a hint of pride in the dragon's tone. "Yes, there is an element of show, but it is to protect you more than to bind you."
He looks directly at James with a focused stare that doesn't feel much different than being on the receiving end of a shot from a Redline. "It may provide you with a cushion of sorts," he says. "It is not impervious, but the association may slow down some who may have their own plans for you." His gaze switches back to Illeana as he gives her a meaningful look.
The restaurant staff have decided that this thaw is a sufficient window in which to deliver the third course, which is marinated salmon on a spread of avocado cream, with a grapefruit and wasabi marshmallow. Illeana eats it in one bite.
"Delicious," she says, knowing that she may well regret it later.
"I hoped you would think so," Schwartzkopf responds.
