milliways_bar | (no subject)

"Good morning, Ray. Long time no see." It's Barry, back on the ground, though still carrying his skaterug.

Ray smiles. "Hey, Barry. How's it going? I was wondering where you were."

"Oh, I've been around but sort of keeping quiet. Taking advantage of the lull before the changes in security get started." He takes a seat.

"How's it going?"

Ray rubs at his face with both hands. "Busy," he says, deciding that the detailed report is not going to do anyone any good. "But New York is still standing and I haven't wrecked my rooms here yet, so it works out okay in the end."

"Well, that's good." Barry figures there is a whole opera out there somewhere, but won't push Ray.

"Guess you missed the recent spate of parties then?"

"Parties?" For a moment, Ray looks just a bit wistful. Then he nods. "Afraid I did. The wedding stuff happened at the same time as a seventy-two-hour stretch of unmitigated poltergeist activity in my world. I didn't get to leave until it was all over, and when I got here I wasn't coherent enough to do anything but sleep the clock 'round."

"It was a nice wedding, but I suspect that Bernard and Tonks wouldn't have been upset that you were there, given the situation. Besides, given that almost everyone in the Bar was there, I don't know if they noticed.

"And then there was the rather noisy party that Mel and her new roommate threw last week. Not at all my cup of tea, but some good drinks and Mel was a surprisingly perky hostess." He flags down a wait-rat and gets a lemonade.

"Didn't even know about that one," Ray admits. "What was that for? Birthday, welcome-to-the-room, something like that?"

He sniffs at his coffee suspiciously and starts doping it further with sugar.

"Suite-warming. I have no idea how they have such a nice room, but they have a hot tub and a balcony. Mel's roommate - girl named Lilly Kane - seems to be connected or something. I wish I knew who she knows, since I'd kill just to have a window. I hate having to depend on electric light all the time." The lemonade arrives.

"Bar shortchange you on flavor in that cup today?"

"Lilly... that name sounds familiar and I can't place why." He shakes his head. Not even Ray can be expected to remember everyone he meets. "I should probably start looking for a slightly larger room. Mine's at the point where I'm just this side of chucking the bed and installing a hammock."

"Huh? Oh, sorry. Brain's moving a little slowly this morning. New subject matter." He slides the books over to Barry. "We've got an AI out back named Eddie- he's a US Navy warbird from 2008, and he's got some major damage to one of his wings. I offered to find someone else who could repair it for him, but when he found out what I've done with more conventional materials he said he trusted me and asked if I would repair it instead. I'm taking a break to let it all settle inside my skull."

"I met Lilly all of once. Cute little blonde teenager, and apparently a party girl. The kind of teen that would have had nothing to do with either of us at that age, but that's neither here nor there." Barry then takes more note of the aviation textbook.

"That explains the book. Interesting the kinds of things we get here sometimes. I still haven't met either of the resident talking cars, and now we have a talking plane. Of course, we had an android in the League, so this should be old hat to me."

Ray smiles wryly. "Yeah, there were some girls like that at Oratory. Just one of the many reasons I wanted to kick my parents for letting me skip three grades. I was too young for anything."

"Oh, it's not just vehicles. We've got an android in the bar now, too. Lieutenant Commander Data's from about a hundred years in Naraht's future. Nice guy. Can't miss him- pale skin, black hair, yellow eyes."

"Data...huh." Barry smiles.

"I know the name, but only because of the crossword puzzles. Used to be when there was a clue, four letters, 'character from Star Trek, it was Sulu. Then about 1990 or so, it became Data. but I never had a chance to see the show.

"Has Naraht met him? For that matter, have you talked to Naraht at all of late? He's really down about the Bar, last time I talked to him."

"I don't know if Naraht's met him," Ray says thoughtfully. "And I didn't know Naraht was back on that whole 'argh, this place doesn't conform to any recognizable standard of societal control or consistent system of justice' thing again. He didn't mention anything about it when he and Agent K came to my New York to help with the problems we were having there..."

"Agent K? We're getting figures from Kafka here now?" Barry smirks. Yes, he's read a little Kafka, but not enough to actually discuss any of the man's works.

"I talked to Naraht last Thursday, and he told me that he would have to decline my offer to have him help with the detectives - which I made very informally, in fact - because of the whole justice system thing. And while I am not sure he's wrong, he's being a bit rough on the whole place, and on Bernard.

"Did you know that Tonks was pregnant she was captured? That might explain a lot about why Beranrd was so harash to Tim." Clarly, Barry has been rethinking his own opinions.

"Kafka?" Ray's brow creases again in puzzlement. "Sorry, I only remember the one about the giant cockroach. No, I think it's a code designation. He works for a bureau that monitors, polices, and governs alien activity on his world's Earth. Does your world have stories of 'men in black' who turn up out of nowhere and hush up inconvenient incidents or discoveries? Like that."

He sighs. "Didn't know about the pregnancy thing. That explains a bit, you're right. On the other hand, I really don't know what to tell Naraht if the justice system issue comes up again. He gets kind of dramatic about issues around here- stuff that I agree is a problem, like Q, but he takes it to a degree that makes me really uncomfortable. Maybe it's just the silicon mindset... I don't know."

"Hmm. You mean the CBI, or the CIA, or the FBI? They all seem to dress in black, and they think they turn up out of nowhere. Well-meiang, but with a few expections, really quite transparent.

"Keep in mind that alien activity on my world - in my day, at least - is unregulated. And usually when there are inconvenient discoveries, the League or STAR Labs are called in. I think after my day, there is a government agency to deal with aliens, as well as metahumans, but it's not cloak and dagger, from what little I know."

Barry thinks about Naraht. "It might be his culture. Or it might be Starfleet. Kirk's willingness to bend rules aside, it's a very rules-bound organization, from what I recall. One with centuries of legal precedent from a variety of worlds. The very loose rules here are probably a total shock after living in that environment. And I do relate to that, having been a cop, after all.

"But as much as I wish this were Central City, USA, it's not. It's still a bar under it all."

"Something like that," Ray says. "In my world, for the most part, such things are the province of urban legends and the Fortean Times. There's no solid evidence of people with that kind of job description existing; the people who claim they do rarely have better than secondhand anecdotal influence to run with. K's world seems to be organized along different lines."

He nods, rubbing at his temples. "That's the thing. For all that people live here sometimes, it's an informal community, not a country. Other than the dead and the Barman, people who have futures don't generally have them here- well, Snow and her kids do, but most people? Not so much. Laws and systems and organizations are for places where you get permanent affiliations. Being upset that this place doesn't have a single unifying consistent standard of how to handle criminal cases is kind of like being upset at the lack of internal organization in your average fraternity house. Not that we can't do better than what we've got now, but there's no reason to put that much structure on a place where people come to relax, essentially."

"Except..." Barry pauses.

"Except that in many ways, this has been an ad hoc community. And to many of us, that implies we are, without meaning to, building a society. Granted, it's a society of transients to a very large degree, but it's still a society. And as such, that implies laws.

"It's taken me a long while to reconcile that with the nature of the Bar, and I haven't been fully successful. The way Bernard and Tim essentially locked horns with each other sent a poor message to the security staff, and through them to the entire Bar. I know that Bernard did what he thought was right. I know that Tim, as odd as it seems, agreed with what Bernard did. But it bothered me.

"And I suspect that if we talked to Bernard, went to him with all our concerns, he would agree that even as a just a place to relax, there need to be standards. And that as Barman, he needs to help set those standards.

"But to Naraht, and sometimes to me and to others, it feels like there aren't any. Which is unfair to security and to Bernard, but sometimes perception is reality.

"and I hope this makes some sense. As I am just a simple hero and cop, and not a lawyer, thank god."

"Oh, it makes sense," Ray says. "Unfortunately, even as 'just a hero and cop', you're still a couple of levels above me. I got an A in my civics class in high school. I'm familiar with the principles of peer review in the sciences. That's as close as I get to sociology, or politics, or any of those things. The horrible part is that I know I'm going to have to learn all of it sometime fairly soon, because of my studying with Master Qui-Gon, but for now..." He shakes his head. "For now it'd be really, really easy for me to fall back into college mode. Do what you like, study what you want, don't produce anything. Which wouldn't do anyone any good, but there it is."

Barry ponders this. "Don't you have to deal with at least some politics as a Ghostbuster?"

"Not if I can possibly avoid it," Ray mutters. "That's Peter's job. I'm not allowed to talk to the press, anyway, let alone the Mayor."

Barry chuckles a bit. "Hate to say it, Ray, but I can see why you might not be trusted with the press. I don't think you could do a sound bite with two month's prep. But somehow I don't see Peter being much better with the mayor. Peter's too cynical, even for New York. Though I could see him and Ed Koch hitting it off.

"By the way, any clue what happened to Peter's costume party?"

"I do just fine when Scientific American or Discover comes around looking for an interview..." He shakes his head. "No, unfortunately. I had this vague recollection of needing to ask him about that at some point, but I've had other things chewing on me in the meantime."

He nods. "Other things like poltergeists and men in black. It's okay. I haven't thought much about it, either.

"But the Bar being what it is, I'm sure we'll hear about it, or something like it, sooner or later."