I was somehow locked into this. I tapped lightly on the door.There was a delay that seemed to last forever. Then I heard the sound of the door being unlocked. It swung open and she was there. Her face broke into a smile when she saw me.“Joss, I was hoping it might be you. Do come in.”She stood aside invitingly. Dumbly I walked past her into the room. It wasn’t what I would have expected. Most of my clients would have wanted, or demanded even, the best of the suites with all the trimmings plus as many extras as their egos required. This was a quite standard room although the Imperial did not really do ‘standard’. The thick carpet led into an impeccably decorated room. Off to one side was a large bed. I tried, but failed, to ignore its presence. The main area of the room was taken up with two armchairs facing a pair of glazed doors that led out onto a balcony. Through the flimsy curtains that billowed in the light breeze, I could see the cityscape beyond. She was wearing a hotel-issued. They look to me for an answer, and I endeavor to project an Captainly air of confidence, but at night I have cried bitterly at the cruel twists of fate that may well have brought me to my end here in these most Desolate waters.Speaking of cruel twists of fate, on the third day or so it occurred to me to inquire about my old love Amelia, and see if she had survived the amputations of her mangled arms. I made my way down to the Surgery and was pleased to find her convalescing in a most comfortable hammock, next to several others with suppurating stomach wounds and the like. "Amelia, dearest, how splendid you look!" I cried, then, endeavoring to lighten her mood, added, "There's something different about you, what could it be? Did you change your hair?" My fucking arms have been sawn off!" she cried, holding the bandaged stumps up at me, and then added, "I thought you too must have been killed, since it has been three days and never once have you visited me."I let this ungracious.
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