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the infernal devices - tessa gray

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I must admit that the flow of visitors may be a little overwhelming, but— if there is someone from the Institute here, if only for a day or two, I should like to make my own presence known, rather than spend all day in the library.

I only ask that— [ she pauses, clearly hesitant, before her voice comes again, stronger now and quite firm ] that whoever should wish to talk to me will not be too forward.

[ it doesn't quite express what she wishes to say (please, take care not to offend my 18th century sensibilities) but it comes close enough while still remaining polite ]

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Truly! There are libraries--there is a large one in Moscow--but books are not often handled, not by anyone who is not a scholar or fond of antiques.

[She won't have time to think now.]

Have you read Pushkin or Gogol?

I suppose in your world, everything that is normal for me would be an antique. It is a little strange to think of it.

[ She isn't. She's smiling and thinking about books instead. ]

I haven't. Are they very good?

Everything in this world is very old, too. The motor vehicles are interesting.

[He does an extremely exaggerated double-take as if amazed that anyone could have gone through life without encountering Pushkin or Gogol.]

You haven't! They are the greatest Russian authors! They--ai, Turgenev, he is also good--their short stories are beautiful.

Everything in this world is very advanced, for me.

[ And Tessa giggles. ]

I enjoy short stories. Surely the library here has their works, I will read them.

[That's more like it!]

I hope you will like them, but do not read Dostoevsky. He is depressing.

[ You're charming her with talk of books. How can she not smile? ]

I'm certain I will. You seem like a person of good taste. [ a beat. ] What does he write about?

[That's weird. The girls at home didn't go for it.]

My tastes are not so refined as yours, surely. ...Dostoevsky? He writes about what they all write about: life. Some of them, though, see life darkly.

[ Perhaps, Mr Chekov, she is not like the girls at home. ]

Some write about life as it could be, or the life of only certain people. I like those stories, though they are not refined at all, truly. But I've always liked imagining perhaps I were one of the heroines in those books.

[This isn't a bad thing.]

That's not such a bad thing to imagine, though it may not work with Pushkin or Turgenev. Oh, I forgot one other! Chekhov--I forgot him. It feels self-serving, recommending his works, but his writing is thoughtful.

[ Good. ]

Chekhov. Are you related to him?

If I am, I did not inherit his writing abilities.

Do you write, Tessa?

Oh, no. [ Shaking her head. ]

I have written many letters that I never sent, letters that were more for myself than anyone, truthfully, but nothing beyond that.

That is something. I think you would write very well.

Do you? I am not so certain, but I think perhaps I should like to try.

I do! Those who speak well often write well.

[ Blushing a little, again. ] But I would not know what to write about. There are so many possibilities.

The things you imagine--being a heroine. You could write about those.

I could try, perhaps. [ Considering. She never thought of writing, other than for herself, other than the letters that kept her sane. ]

You would lose nothing by trying.

[lightly] I tried to pilot a simulated aircraft once. I crashed very quickly, but I did not lose anything. Ah--except for a bet with a friend. Nothing except for that.

You are certainly right in that.

[ smiling, her hand tightening a little on his arm ] What sort of bet was it?

I try not to be wrong.

[He has since removed his hand from hers for gesticulating purposes and pinches the bridge of his nose with an overwrought sigh of exasperation.] It was a bet that I would not crash. I was wrong that time.

So long as you are not always right. [ Her smile turns into a grin, almost cheeky. ] That would surely become quite irritating for everyone. Except you, possibly.

I am very nearly always right. Sulu thinks it is infuriating. [He makes a face.] Most others think it is cute.

Is Sulu the one who made the bet with you? He must have been quite happy, then, to have won.

Yes, and he was thrilled to have won. He usually wins only when we spar or he shows me how to fence.

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(action) (HOW IS HE SO FREAKING ADORABLE)

(action) (HOW ARE THEY SO FREAKING ADORABLE TOGETHER)

(action) (MAGIC? POWER OF YOUTH? IT TRANSCENDS TIME)

(action) (/dies of cute)

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