captainhornblower | Fourteenth Dispatch

Fourteenth Dispatch - [written]

[He's been here a year now.

An entire year.

And it doesn't feel any more like home than it did the day he arrived. If anything, his obligations feel even sharper than they did then. Because he has been away from them. Even if no one would know he'd been gone, he knew.]

Person or thing, either way--

What would you most like to see here?

Hornblower

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Captain Horatio Hornblower, of His Majesty's British Navy.

A pleasure to meet you.

Sergeant Sally Donovan of Scotland Yard.

Likewise.

Scotland Yard? ["Sergeant" isn't as odd. Not with her year. Hell, even he's taken on a woman as Captain of the Marines.]

Sorry; you wouldn't know that one either. It's what we call the headquarters of the Metropolitan Police Service. London law enforcement. Established in 1829; didn't quite get off the ground until...later. But it's doing well these days.

Very interesting. I'll remember that, Miss Donovan. Or is Sergeant Donovan? [He isn't sure about law enforcement ranks, especially long after his time. Navy ranks? No problem, but this...]

I much prefer Seargent to Miss, thanks, but you can call me Sally if you like. What should I call you?

[...What is it with modern women and wanting to be called by their Christian names? Can't he meet one normal one?]

I prefer Hornblower or Captain Hornblower, but enough others call me "Horatio" here.

...Right, I think I'll call you Captain, then.

[Apologies, mate, but she's not calling a grown man "Hornblower" with a straight face.]

Perfectly suitable.

[...Yeah, he knows. It's an awful name. But he actually hates his first name more, so.]

Good. I suppose you can just call me whatever you like, then.

[Compromise!]

Do you take offense to "ma'am"?

[It's sad how sincere the question has to be in this place.

If she does object to that, "Sergeant Donovan" it will have to be.]

[Oh for heaven's sake.]

I think "Sergeant" will do fine, Captain Hornblower.

Of course. I'll remember that.

...It's probably been a bit of an adjustment, meeting people from centuries after your time.

It is.

[The irritation of being expected to comply with their "normal behaviour" was a rant for another day. This woman, at least, had done nothing to deserve it.]

I guess we're all experiencing some culture shock. Some more than others. I just met a bloke who says he's from a thousand years later than me. That was...strange.

A thousand years? My God.

He says they have advanced space travel. They've colonized other planets and everything.

Other... planets? I... can't even imagine.

Neither can I. Not like that - when I come from, we've sent men to the moon and robots to Mars, but we've never gone farther than that, let alone set up camp in another galaxy.

The moon? [Now, the words "Mars" and "robots"...

He doesn't even know what to make of it.]

Yeah. In 1969, the Americans sent three men to the moon in a rocket ship. They put an American flag there. And played golf.

I'm honestly not making that up, I promise.

My God.

That is incredible.

It is, isn't it? It was really such a short time ago, but I think we tend to forget how much it meant that we were able to do that. Put men on the moon.

If you don't mind my asking, why was it done?

Re: [ written ]

cop_an_attitude - 2012-05-17 03:10 (UTC) - Expand

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