milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Autor has his feet up on the couch today, taking notes on Schak's German translation of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.

A medical textbook is on his lap, with detailed entries about dopamine, oxytocin, and endorphins earmarked. Dog-eared copies of The Princess Bride, Pride and Prejudice, and The Great Gatsby form a stack on the floor against the couch. On the stack is a plate of dumplings, cold and untouched.

Unfortunately, none of it seems to help with his ultimate goal: falling out of love. There's a dearth of classics that teach what he wants to know. Love drives all the great stories, Rae had said, and Autor finds that her words are true, even though he doesn't think his great story is written that way.

There's still a blush on his face. The Rubaiyat is a bit mushy.

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"People have studied it, indeed! Not always benignly. I --" Joly bites his lip for a moment. "Many of the advances I read of...they were made at a horrible cost. Which is all the more reason to learn of them, of course! But it is a caution, especially in subtle matters."

He brightens. "Like the nature of we Millidead! Indeed, we do seem to be fully alive. And yet our Mandrake's scream did not kill us, and I have heard a few similar stories from other resurrected residents. And then there is the matter of beards. Something is different in us, though whether that is mechanical or chemical or something else entirely I do not know. But think what it might mean to learn!"

"Ah, you're right, Joly," Autor says, nodding. "Thank you for the reminder."

Millidead! The term makes Autor smile. "Matter of beards? Can you not grow one anymore? Is that because you're not aging any longer?" Autor asks, rubbing at his own chin. He's never been able to grow them. "The condition of the Millidead is a fascinating topic of study. Do you ever grow ill now?"

"My beard hasn't grown since I arrived; it took a few days of not shaving to be sure, but I am sure." Not that he really wanted a beard, or grew one very well, but it's still a noticeable change. "I don't think the others have either, though of course it's hard to say for Bahorel yet. And you know? I haven't been ill at all!" That's been a pleasant surprise. "Which means Bar isn't just,oh, resetting us to our last point before death, somehow, because I had a cold before the battle-- and during, which was of course a bit ridiculous-- but it's gone since I arrived. And I've not been ill sense, which I really should be, exposed to so many new people! But that may be an effect of Milliways in general;really we should all be giving each other endless new diseases just by sharing our air, you know!" He says this in great excitement, then catches himself and laughs. "Though of course I'm glad it's proved to be otherwise."

"We definitely do have hangovers, though. And we can injure ourselves, and don't seem to recover any faster than anyone else."

"Fascinating," Autor says, tapping his chin. "I've always wondered about the exposure rate around here, especially given that some of us are from different planets, and should therefore have different diseases. There must be some magic keeping us from all keeling over."

He cocks his head. "So it's an entirely new existence for you. I can see why you'd want to figure out how it works. I assume your heart still beats, despite your not aging?"

Joly nods enthusiastically. "Yes, that's right! Heart beats-- and my pulse keeps the same rate, and so does Bossuet's, I can't be certain but I think the others are the same way. And we eat, of course, and have all the effects of that-- I mean, if we overindulge, or what have you. And we need sleep, the same as anyone. Yet no other sign of time passing."

He leans back and thinks a moment. "I should take scans of everyone-- our brains, our hearts, and such, track it over time. My friends at least will participate,they're mostly patient with these things, though it would be better to have a wider sample."

He laughs then. "But here, I'm going on about projects that may see no results for years. We have much simpler work ahead of us. Shall I meet you tomorrow to find a proper room for our theater?"

"Guppy has scanners which I'm sure will work for the purpose," Autor says, nodding. "I am eager to see the results of your work, Joly. I am certain that you'll find a wider sample size in the bar. And yes, of course, let us meet to scout out a theater."

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