milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Back home there's everyday work (if dealing with possessed cinnamon buns and haunted highway overpasses- don't ask, but you really shouldn't take the BQE across the Gowanus for a while just to be on the safe side- can ever be called everyday), and an overenthusiastic ghost, and an angry sister. This is not very appealing to Ray right now. There's also his daughter, but she's a big girl. She can take care of herself for the handful of picoseconds between Ray heading for Milliways and Ray returning, Ray figures, much as he misses her while he's here. Right now he just doesn't want to deal with everything else back home. That'll happen soon enough.

So for the moment, he's reading a copy of the New York Daily News. There's a two-page spread on the city's proposed new disaster response plan. The police and firefighters' unions' response to the suggestion that special units be set aside specifically for the 'undefined phenomena' category of disaster is absolutely fascinating.

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"In all honesty, sir, I've never heard of you." But he leans over to shake the hand anyway. "I don't think you're from my New York. There is more than one version of the city represented here. We just had our elections anyway, so that's all over with for the year."

Nathan's handshake was firm and well practiced at handshaking. He finally dropped his hand away.

"Right, more than one city. Did I win in your elections then? Or my double?" Nope, not getting it, or believing it.

"Wouldn't know," says Ray. "What position are you running for?"

"Congressman." He also rattled off the specific district number.

"Okay, that'd be a no," says Ray. "I can't say that was a name in any of the House races this year. I don't usually pay much attention to politics, but I'm pretty sure I'd remember that."

"Right, since it's the other New York. The one in the future?" Yeah, really not believing it.

"The mayor of New York's been a Democrat named Lenny Gonick since Randall Winston Jr. left office to run for the Presidency," Ray says. "Winston's Secretary of State is the former deputy mayor. Other than that I honestly couldn't tell you anything about any of our politicians. Sorry."

Nathan stared at him, and shook his head, "Current mayor's a Republican. Michael Bloomberg. And the current President is George W. Bush."

Likely thinking this guy was crazy too.

"Bloomberg." Ray frowns thoughtfully. "Nope, sorry, can't say that I know the name. I mean, other than every other Bloomberg who lives in the borough of Brooklyn. As far as the Bushes go, the last Bush to hold a national office that I know of was George Herbert Walker Bush, back in '88 through '92."

"If one of them owns a multi-billion dollar business, that's him. And it's his son in the Oval Office now."

"Sorry, not where I come from," Ray says firmly. "Randall M. Winston, Junior, is president. It was Colin Powell before him. I promise you, Mr. Petrelli, we are not from the same New York City by any stretch of the imagination. No offense to you, but the sooner you get that through your head, the less Maalox you're going to be chugalugging."

Nathan grimaced, and started pacing some. "I don't want to believe it. It sounds crazy." He pointed to the window.

"I mean, between that, the fact my brother and I are trapped here, and now I'm supposed to believe in more than one city?" He just shook his head.

"If you're really having that much trouble, I could always take you to visit my New York in person," Ray says. "I've done that for people before. They get a little freaked out most of the time, but it usually settles a lot of questions once the experience sinks in."

"I just... no, I want to get out of here. To my New York. My family. My campaign. All of it."

Nathan replied, "Going to some other version's not going to help."

Ray nods. "The offer stands if you change your mind," he says. "And I'm sorry. I've been stranded places I didn't belong for months at a time myself. It's not an enjoyable experience."

Nathan briefly remembered some of his experiences in Bosnia, and duties in combat.

He sighed, "...No, no it isn't."

He then asked when he looked toward Ray again, "So what the hell do people do here if they can't leave? Just sit around getting drunk all the time? My brother mentioned there's rooms, but is that it?" Not that he's necessarily accepting any of it, but realizing his options are kind of limited. He's gonna to keep trying to escape as soon as he can though.

"Getting drunk's only one of the possibilities," Ray says. "Your brother's right. There are rooms upstairs. Two of them've been converted to libraries, for what that's worth. There's a workout center down that corridor over there- free weights and a few other kinds of equipment more than Nautilus or anything like that. And there's an outdoor area as well. It's a little cold for going swimming, but there's enough room out back that the mounted NYPD officers I know would be happy to take their horses out there for exercise. Um, if you're musical the piano's available for public use. And the Bar can produce anything a Barnes & Noble or a Best Buy small electronics or entertainment section can- I've bought movies, books, and laptop computers through the Bar on a few occasions."

"Really thought of just about anything, huh? Except..." Nathan held up his cellphone which was still saying no signal, plus his lifted hand showed his stopped wristwatch.

"Can't contact anyone or get the time," he grimly finished.

"Yeah, there is that," Ray admits. "The best I can offer on that front is that it allows you to regroup and get your campaign ducks in a row without being disturbed by phone calls, but I realize that's not exactly the most reassuring prospect in the world. Sorry." He rubs at his neck, thinking. "You can get newspapers and other periodicals from the Bar up to the time you got here. Any newspaper or periodical. Including the ones you haven't had time to go over yet, but that you might need to read through for strategic purposes?"

"Well, that's something at least. Good suggestion," Nathan remarked approvingly.

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