OOM: Javert in London for the scond time

[witchfinder_general]

It' the same featureless blue corridor as before, but this time, there are still people about in it.

Nobody, however, is paying any attention to them: two women with papers under their arms are chatting to each other, and a man is wheeling a trolley of scientific equipment into an open door.

Father Harman holds the door of the supply closet open for Javert.

Comments

[witchfinder_general]

"Exactly," Father Harman says.

While he has all the tolerance in the world for other people and their fallibility, his own attitude towards duty is rather like Javert's.

"If somebody knows about vampires, though, and has any skills that can help fight them, we need to retain their services, so we have to walk a fine line. But whoever can't deal with the rigorous self-control this kind of access and power demands of us must be put into a place where they have no chance of abusing their power, and the latitude a position in our team might give them."

[never_shall_yield]

'You press them into service whether they wish it or not? And if they do not agree, then...imprisonment?'

He does not know what to think about that, if it is true. His initial reaction is that it is only good sense, but then he remembers that his judgement is not to be trusted.

[witchfinder_general]

"Oh no!" Father Harman says, horrified. "We do what we can to hire them away from their current jobs, with the ordinary arsenal of enticements, which is simply paying them well, plus the knowledge that their work will make a difference to humanity. Anybody who knows about the Code Fives will have encountered them, and that will most likely mean a tale of loss and horror. No, it's just that even facing these beings doesn't make anybody a good and ethical person automatically."

[never_shall_yield]

...he is reminded why his judgement is not to be trusted.

'I see. You simply hope they are decent enough to behave as they should.'

That is possibly not wise, but again, this is not his world.

[witchfinder_general]

"No," Father Harman says. "The moment we see the not behaving as they should, we find them places where they can't do much harm, or use the position for their own advantage. But it means we have to keep eyes on our team members."

[never_shall_yield]

'Ah. Then my apologies, if I made it sound as though you detained people in ways you perhaps should not.'

He should know that Harman would not. But there, he is very intent on his work, and who knows what that might do to a person?

[witchfinder_general]

"We don't," Father Harman says. "People come first; animals deserve respect and should be kept in ways that is adequate for their species and behaviour. The only things that don't get asked at all are dead things."

[never_shall_yield]

He finds himself wondering what Valjean would make of this. And, inexplicably, the desire to ask him.

He pushes it away.

'Vampires are dead,' he says, almost to himself. And remembers that yes, Dracula had felt dead to the touch. But he was not, was he? He had never actually been killed...or perhaps he had. Abel was not clear on the subject, and he had not wanted to know, and now it is hazy in his mind.

'Yes. It is as it should be.'

[witchfinder_general]

"Not all of them in the bar unmistakeably are," Father Harman says. "But ours are, and must be treated accordingly. There are some cultures on earth that keep their dead around, but it's rare, and usually considered bizarre. As a rule, the dead must be put to rest."

[never_shall_yield]

'As a necessity, I would say.'

But he comes from a time where disease is rife as it is, vampires or no.

'I have never heard of otherwise, but I will take you at your word.'

[witchfinder_general]

"It is what we do," Father Harman says.

He stops. "We have to cross the street here."

Traffic is infinitely more busy than it was the other time, at night.

[never_shall_yield]

It is around as busy as Los Angeles was at night, the time he was lost there. But the road is more narrow, and everything feels more closed in. He is not an idiot though, and does not step in front of cars. He is simply at a loss as to how they will manage this.

'Do they never stop?'

[witchfinder_general]

"They come in waves, like flocks of birds," Father Harman says.

He's waiting at the curb, peering.

[never_shall_yield]

'England is very strange,' he remarks, dryly, and waits for Harman to make his move. It seems the safest option, even if being mown down by an automobile would not be the worst way for a man to die.

[witchfinder_general]

"Paris is the same," Father Harman says. "And there are places which are much worse. Rome. Dublin. St. Petersburg."

He steps off the curb and crosses the road, catching a lull in the traffic. With a nudge at his elbow, he encourages Javert to follow.

[never_shall_yield]

'It is irrelevant. I will never see them.'

In his time, or his own.

He was already about to move when the nudge comes, but because it is Father Harman he does not roll his eyes, and simply follows. On the other side, his gaze is arrested by...he does not know what it is, but it is black, and shiny, and low to the ground, and looks like it might go fast.

He adds a brief flash of covetousness to the list of things he must confess, just because he would quite like to touch it.

[witchfinder_general]

Father Harman notices.

"Those are quite expensive, but many people like them a lot," he says. "Something of a status symbol: whoever can afford one of these has definitely made it."

[never_shall_yield]

'Made what?'

He averts his eyes. Status symbols do not interest him, but if wealthy gentleman wish them, they have that right. He just remembers that Ganymede claimed his own car could go at two hundred miles per hour, and has not yet proved it.

Also, he just finds himself interested by cars. Not to own. But to move around in. They are efficient.

[witchfinder_general]

"Made their way in the world," Father Harman says. "Achieved material success. Here in London there are many big banks that do global business and make fast money; that translates into quite a number of expensive sports cars. I don't know all the brands, but if it's got a little horse on its sign, it's a Ferrari."

[never_shall_yield]

'I see.'

He glances back at the car, then moves on.

'I am told they cost a lot of money, yes. It is immaterial. They are simply pleasing on the eye.'

Javert has no time for flowers or sunsets, but a sports car is a quite different kind of beauty. Just as untouchable, but far more real.

[witchfinder_general]

"I think there might be people in Milliways who have cars like that and might take you for a ride," Father Harman says, with a little smile.

To see Javert fascinated by fast cars is oddly moving. Something that is fun for him -- finally!

[never_shall_yield]

'Ganymede has one, and I have ridden in it. Perhaps I will again, I do not know.'

He will not hold out hope, and will certainly not ask, but there is a chance.

[witchfinder_general]

"Well, if you enjoyed it, I'm sure he'll take you for a ride again," Father Harman says.

[never_shall_yield]

'Mmm.'

The answer is entirely non-committal, and he will not be expanding on it.

[witchfinder_general]

Father Harman is walking down a street on the middle of which there is a church -- the same as last time.

"I don't think riding in a fast car is very sinful. On a sliding scale from poking badgers with a spoon to genocide, it's still very close to the badgers," he volunteers, still slightly amused.