The Lotus Eaters

Casa Linda, Balboa, Terra Nova

Carrera didn't look up as McNamara and Jimenez took seats to ether side of him around a small wooden table on a largish balcony that overlooked Terra Nova's greatest ocean, the Mar Furioso. Indeed, he didn't acknowledge their presence until Mac placed another bottle of whiskey, along with two glasses, next to the nearly drained bottle sitting by the ice bucket in the middle of the table. At that, Carrera only said, "Welcome."

Jimenez thought, It's funny; despite the gray hair he actually looks younger than he has in years.

Mac filled the silence that followed Carrera's one word by taking the open bottle and pouring what was left, half and half, into the two glasses he'd brought from the bar.

"Lotsa history made right here," Mac commented, as he transferred ice from the bucket to the glasses.

Eyes still affixed on the ocean in the distance, Carrera said, "That's so lame, Top. You couldn't come up with a better opening line than that?"

"Man's got to play the hand he was dealt, sir," McNamara said, while plinking ice into his own glass.

"I suppose," Carrera conceded. He turned his eyes from the ocean to McNamara's dark, seamed face. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to have a cigarette, would you? Lourdes won't buy me any. I haven't felt up to driving in a while. And she's threatened all the help with death if they give me one."

Tobacco on Terra Nova had been infected with a local virus that tended to make it much less carcinogenic than was the case on Earth. Even so, it couldn't precisely be called good for anyone.

"Sure, boss," the grizzled older man said, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a pack of Carrera's preferred brand, Tecumsehs, imported from First Landing in the Federated States, and a lighter. These he slid across the table.

"You're not drunk," Jimenez said in surprise, gesturing at the now empty bottle.

Carrera shook his head. "I sip. But that bottle's been on that table for over a week, ten days maybe. I find if I get drunk that I feel things I don't want to feel any more, remember things I'd just as soon forget.

"Not that I don't remember them in my dreams, mind you."