I'm Going to Disneyland!

Posted on Mon 21st May, 2018 @ 9:38pm by Khellian s'Siedhri MD & Makila i'Hartelhai

1,098 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Brushfires

The group stepped off the tram at deck 1550, and rode a turbolift the rest of the way down. When they walked out into the sunshine of a warm afternoon, the three Human men paused for their guests to look around.

"This," Ken'ichi MacBeth explained, "is a Disneyland. After Starfleet pulled out, oh those many years ago, the local residents got together and approached various parks, museums, and zoological societies. We needed some kind of revenue stream, you see, to keep the station viable. Disney bit, and their imagineers came out here and redesigned a whole section of the station to look and feel like a natural environment."

"A Disneyland. I've never heard the term before but it is truly lovely here." Khellian looked around interested and smiled at the brightly lit, greenery around this area. "What is an imagineer?"

Sam started walking again, leading the young lady on his arm down a stone-paved walkway. "It's a highfalutin' term the Disney people use. People who imagine things, and then engineer them into reality. Now, you walk down this way, and you'll find the central river, with its sternwheel paddleboats. And over the bridge... our modest little home town."

An imagination engineer oh, what a clever term. The smile that tugged at the Romulans lips was amused. Both at the use of the term, and the slight derision in the older man's voice. "Quite nice indeed. "

As they walked along the coblestone streets toward the village, Ben took up the explanation, "It's supposed to look like a small town of a particular time and place in Earth history. A place and time many Humans have nostalgia for. The brick and stone work, the architecture, the limitation to two or three stories."

"Didn't get the crowd they expected, though," Sam interjected. "Expected a bunch of North Americans, since that was the place. The Atlantic Northeast, late eighteenth or early twentieth century. Instead, they got a bunch of Japs and Jews."

"Sam," Ken'ichi said with a warning tone in his voice.

"Oh, I don't mean anything by it," Sam said, waving off the warning. "But the fine citizens of this here burgh do tend to have folded eyelids or yarmulkes. It's an observation, not a judgement."

"Humans have an extraordinary number of secondary physical characteristics. Its rather fascinating that there is so much diversity on one planet. Romulus is slightly more limited in its range, though we do have a number of skin colors and genetic differences. But i confess to not being familiar with the yarmulke, i will have to research it further. " Khellians smooth voice broke through the seemingly good natured bickering.

Ben smiled. "The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob told us Jews to always wear our hats. We're God's chosen people, you see. Funny, Abraham never asked for what he was choosing us. We should have taken the hats thing as a warning that we'd be doing a lot of travelling."

"I always wondered how a Black fella ended up a Jew, Ben," Sam asked as they walked over the bridge and along the riverfront.

"Nu, you pick now to ask?" Ben laughed once, a sharp bark. "Ethiopia."

"Ethiopia?" Ken'ichi asked after a long moment of silence.

"King Solomon had relations with the Queen of Sheeba, and they had a child. A group of Jews took refuge in Ethiopia during the Babylonian exile, and didn't return to the Holy Land until the end of the twentieth century. Many of my ancestors, may they be praised, were part of that tribe."

"But your name is European," Sam observed.

"Nu?" Ben countered. "How many parents do you have? And Ken's Scottish name doesn't bother you?"

"Now that you mention it...." Sam started, but was interrupted by Ken'ichi.

"That's my store," the Asian gentleman said, pointing proudly. He indicated a two-story brick building. There was a door, and a long window, on which were painted the three phases of the moon and the words "Pale Moon Books." Below, in a variety of languages, was the slogan, "We have more questions than answers."

"Nice sentiment that, if anyone is truly thinking about the things that they are reading." Khellian commented as he saw the slogan also written in Rihannsu. That was a nice touch, and he smiled to trace his eyes over the familiar letter forms.

"Big 'if,'" Ken'ichi conceded.

Sam led the way around the corner, and the group stopped in front of a two-story brick building with newspaper -- his newspaper, of course -- taped in the window both to block the view inside and to demonstrate the vacancy. "Here's what we've got," the journalist announced. "The town will cover the cost of the building lease for the first three hundred and sixty days, measured by the standard Station clock. After that, if you choose to remain, you'll become a shareholder with the option to purchase equity in Tivoli Gardens LLC."

"You haven't even properly shown the premises," Ben chided, taking a key from his pocket and offering it to the Doctor.

"It's a fairly standard town set-up," Ken'ichi explained. "Store -- or clinic -- space downstairs, with a family living area upstairs."

"And you wish to offer me this building, in exchange for providing medical care to the people in Tivoli Gardens, and whomever else in the station wishes to come here to me?" His head cocked to one side, and he took the key to open the place and look around. To say he was tempted already by the offer was an understatement.

Makila laughed softly and teased him in Rihannsu, since they'd just been speaking about what he wanted in life and this was the gift of exactly what he'd been looking for. "Ta'krenn! Hwi drahha di'ranov" *

"Be polite Makila" Khellian said absently in slightly accented Standard, as he pushed open the door. It was dusty but spacious, with a small cozy area in the front in front of the window with chairs and a closed door in the back. "What was this building?"

"Well, now, let's see," Sam mused. "Most recently, it was a martial arts instruction hall, a dojo. Before that, it was a dance studio. And before that..." he looked at his compatriots, trying to remember.

"A wine bar," Ken'ichi supplied.

"No, the wine bar was before the wedding planner," Ben objected.

"Lets see the rest of it then." Khellian asked, gesturing for the other men to precede him into the back.

---

* "Ta'krenn! Hwi drahha di'ranov Look at that! Do you like it father?

 

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