Makarovia! Yes, I Know Where That is! Sophomore Year - 59. Chapter 59

Malta

The feeling I got was that Malta was one really big city. It was just a effect really big community that was the cause! I looked at the parts of this community as we rode through. My life changed course. I was someone that was assigned duties for the office I married into. I intended to use what I learned. Not to mention all the courses in Economics I took that got me here. (Why do we say, not to mention and proceed to mention it anyway?) Back on track. Right. The goal was to export something to bring an import to the city or community. Tourism is an export, but not enough even with those cruise ships ahead of us on arrival. They couldn't support a half a million people. I asked Luke. “There are farms in Malta.”

He began his reluctant agreement. “We have to rely on other countries. A lot people think farming will become something you do in your backyard.”

“Like a hobby.” Peter nodded.

Luke nodded. “Yes, that's right.”

Ruins are ruins. What's big deal? (Yes, I heard that! The ambivalent approach to ruins.) I'll gladly get on my soapbox if you need a reminder.

“We have exports.” Luke said. “From mechanical machinery and appliances to pharmaceuticals.” He glanced at me and then the road again. “Mostly France, Germany, the UK and Italy top the list.”

We pulled into an area set aside for cars. Mercea was the designated parker...parkee? He waited in the car. On an island where vacant land was coveted, it's what you did. There were parking lots. Or car parks or...there were places to park! Okay? This part of Malta's big community is Ggantija. The Giantess.

One more time. I'm just so GEEKED out with it. This temple was so old and I had no doubt showing wear before the first stone block was brought to Egypt and where to put it was even worked out about where to place the pyramids! The Sphinx still had it's nose!! Six or seven thousand years ago when it was just a kitten with a baby's head. Whatever it was called during it's youth. A generation is children born approximately thirty years (some much younger and some older, a night of romance or minutes in violence. A child was born and grew up to do it at least once, if you're here. A child has four grandparents, so going back, each grandparent's parents with a factor of fu...Owe, owe. It was my fault. My fault. I started it. Three hundred and thirty three generations factored by four each generation six or seven times...I can't see either island or combination would be enough land. And that's just my grandparents! That is a HELL of a lot of people!! And such a crowd! Oyi! Spelled right or wrong, with what I just said and you just read.

I dare you to find in my past that found not one of the thousands of people spoke Yiddish! I dare you. Brother. It's impossible!! Consider yourself one-armed bear hugged.

Still, it was damned impressive. It wasn't just a pile of rocks. There were monstrous slabs there. They were put there.

Sorry.

Customer service was neither dead or even ill. I liked the choice of Tour Guide. They weren't really here. You rented this device and chose the language. Even the gender! Mine was male, duh. With a mellow and sexy voice smooth between a baritone and bass. He reminded me of Peter! Imagine that.

Really, the study of Archaeology is just a baby. There were some excavation in late eighteenth century and early in the nineteenth century. Treasure hunters looking for a fast reward. Little was done carefully to protect the past. Seeing and knowing what we did helps us learn from our mistakes. We are a species who knows the we are a species and seek a better understanding of how we fit in the universe. The devises, a little bit larger than a cell or smart phone and rugged. There wasn't a choice. People are not always careful...or children or just plain klutzes. I saw one man try to adjust something and dropped it on concrete ground. It had a strap you could use so you wouldn't do that.

The VTG (Virtual Tour Guide) knew where you were and even gave directions for where to go. “To your right you'll see...” and explained in more detail or moved on. I looked up to see Peter grinning and stepping forward and then stepping back with a chuckle.

“What are you doing?” I grinned as I asked.

Peter smiled bigger. Those glasses didn't allow hardly any detail of his face. “This is fascinating!” He pointed to the device. “I have it set for Ukrainian now. Makarovian wasn't even a choice.”

There were differences between Ukrainian and Makarovian. At first, Makarovian sounded like Ukrainian with a bad accent. Like putting a man from Queens, New York and a good ol' boy from rural Alabama. A few word changes, but they were having a conversation. They both spoke English it was the same language. Almost. Now, Ukrainian sounded like the one with the bad accent for me now.

Peter turned and stepped forward. “Now he's,” he pointed at the device, “talking about what's over there.” He stepped back. “Now, he stopped!” He beamed at me. “Just fascinating!”

I chuckled. “I'm so glad we found something for you to play with.”

As always, Peter wasn't bothered a bit, but had to be guided down the sidewalk. He let me do it just fine.

This devise had a locator so the mainframe knew where you were located to give a more detailed explanation of what you were seeing. I didn't mind that, but I had other questions. I needed a real live breathing person.

They had people walking around with name badges. A young woman with long black hair was common in these parts. She had the long hair, but blonde. She lived and worked here in Malta. She was in her late twenties. I saw on her badge she was an archaeological student and her name was Maja. She was here to help people like me and it was busy now. The three cruise ships that had at least a thousand tourists on board, plus the hotels and resorts... (Owe) The devices made sense. Human guides could catch cold or get laryngitis...a reason not to work. Then again, the computer could crash or just shutdown.

“Excuse me.” I said in a Southern way. Remember the vowels were spoken differently?

Maja came over giving me a smile. “Can I help you?” She had an accent and name that said Sweden.

I pointed in a direction and asked about the sacrificial rites done here on people as well as animal sacrifices. About the pottery findings that were even older than this very temple. Fifteen to twenty thousand years they estimated and were working to find out. BC or AD didn't make that big a difference with these sort of numbers.

She spoke English well. There was the give away accent. I also wasn't blind. She was gorgeous! A Swedish blonde bombshell. Centerfold material. I knew guys would be in agony from self inflicted pain to help them keep control of those primal urges. Did it work on me? I was aware of it, but gay. Remember? No urges. If this were a handsome Swedish Viking maybe. With Maja? No.

The more I spoke to her, she relaxed. She knew history and could discuss it at length from known facts and theories. She had an act she had learned to use and followed to get what she wanted or needed all of her life. Now, I was listening to her about what she said due to her brain and knowledge there.

I got a feeling like I did with Helga. Helga was every bit as gorgeous as Maja. Only, Helga played that down to make people listen to her. Maja used hers.

She got a map. Not one of those tourist type of map, but detailed one. She was flustered as wind wasn't cooperating. “Can we step out of the wind?”

I saw a booth nearby they didn't have anybody in it. Two people would be in close quarters, but not crowded.

“Sure.”

Mikell and Alec looked a little worried. Peter and I were spreading them out. Mikell pointed at Peter who was talking to Luke. I held up a finger, one, I pointed at them, “you,” I pointed at my two eyes, “watch,” I pointed at Peter. “him.” And we didn't speak a word in any verbal language. Alec and Mikell had their own.

Maja hadn't missed it. Maybe speaking Makarovian would have been better, but we would have to speak loud be heard. “Is there a problem?” She asked.

“Not really a problem.” I smiled and waved to the booth. “You'll understand in a minute.”

There was the problem with the glasses. It didn't help your reading. It could be done and might have worked outside to read the map as it cut the glare.

She smiled as we got in the booth. “I know who you are Prince Eric.”

Now, I was shocked. “You've known how and how long?” I almost demanded.

She laughed shaking her head. “About five or ten minutes into our discussion.” She pointed at my left hand. “A woman knows jewelry. I saw Prince Pedro put that one on you. I saw when he put the ring on the other hand a year ago.” She smiled again softer. “I won't tell anyone.”

“Os' ty del!!” Peter said with a sound of relief and indignant at the same time. He was relieved I wasn't in trouble and indignation I had gone missing in the first place.

“ English, Babe.” I chuckled. “We all speak English, it's rude not to.” I looked at him. “Do we discuss the whole here verses there thing again? I'm here, you're there...”

“I got that.” Peter again growled. “I didn't know where you were.”

I nodded. “I know. I'm sorry.” I said sincerely. “We had Mikell with us!! No, explosions or gunfire, but we had Mikell.” I motioned for Peter to come in and that made it crowded. “Prince Pedro Ivanov of Makarovia, this is Maja Nilsson.” I didn't need to see his eyes to read his surprise. “She's known about us almost from the start.”

“I won't tell anyone,” Maja again swore.

“Shout it from rooftops in twenty-four hours.” I shrugged and reached out to her. “Do you have a camera on your phone?”

“Yes.” She smiled. It was no longer a question if you had one, but what features on it. How did we even function before the web and cell phone?

“Some may want proof.” I shrugged. “We'll give you some.”

Peter's brow came together as he thought. “Wouldn't it be better outside?”

I shook my head. “You've never used one of those little photo booths. Friends all pile in and get wacky pictures to capture a moment in time.” I waved at the booth. “This a bit larger, but the same thing.”

I looked around, but...I removed my cap and glasses. Peter did, too. Seeing him I huffed. “See!? You even look good with cap-hair!” I waved at his head. I really meant it, but it was fun to make him blush. One of the three of us as she did a selfie. A picture of our hands with the family crested fingers on our two ball fists just below her face. (No security breech there as it was known.) And topping it all off with her face in the center and Peter and I kissing opposite cheeks. Then I put his cap on him and glasses. “Now, give me a few minutes for why we came in here in the first place.”

I was looking for the settlements of these people. Humans were nomadic in the beginning. As our animal food supplies migrated, so did we. There were Ice Ages. We have had several. That last one just ended. About twelve thousand years ago seems sounds like a good chuck of time. That ice age started two and a half million years ago. Twelve thousand years is practically yesterday!

I asked her about the sea levels being lower. She nodded, pleased with my understanding and questions. “Yes! Summer snow and ice covered ten percent world. Twenty-five percent over water.” She waved out the window. “There have been many villages under the water now because of the water levels. Who knows the secrets we lost because of it? If we developed agriculture we stayed in one place. We could done so much in that two million years!” She was getting that feeling I got about history.

“Yeah!” I nodded. “I know! The land bridges, packed ice and snow really helped the Human Race migrate to almost every continent on Earth!” She was nodding quickly in agreement.

Peter came to the door again. “No rush,” he said, “will you be finishing with your new playmate?”

We had been here a while. “Sorry.” I chuckled. “I get excited about history. It's nice to meet a kindred spirit.”

Peter's face looked a little disappointed. “I like history.” He was a little defensive.

I laughed and said obviously condescendingly squeezing his face in my hand. “Yes, you do.” I looked at him. “They aren't like spouses. I can have more than one kindred spirit. You,” I grinned, “are my favorite person. Ever. Just you.” Turning back to her I stuck my hand out. “Thank you for your time.”

She nodded. “Thank you for never challenging what I said.” She patted her head. “There is some knowledge up here.”

I grinned. “I know someone just like that. Will we see you again if we come back?”

Maja nodded. “If you come within three years. I do it during summer break to earn money to live when at school.”

“What school?” I asked.

“York.” She said. “That's in...”

I nodded. “Yes, north of London about a hundred kilometers, Near Leeds!”

She nodded again quickly. “You know it?”

I nodded but raised my hand. “I know of it. I was looking for a school to...”

“Poor Mercea,” Peter said sadly. “Left in that hot car, no water, with no bathroom breaks...”

Maja looked shocked. “You didn't leave a dog in the car, did you? He could have come out here!”

I took the cap and swung it at Peter's face. “I will say, he is an animal, he's not dog or cat. He's human.”

Maja chuckled. “I see.”

We walked back to the others and I apologized and apologized. They had walked around using the Virtual Tour Guide. I handed mine back pretty much unused.

“We'll go wherever you want to go, Peter.” I said.

Peter grinned. “I wouldn't mind seeing Anchor Bay.”

Mercea's eyes widened. “You mean Sweethaven?”

I looked back at Mercea surprised. “With Popeye?”

“Yes!” Mercea nodded as his smile got bigger. “With Wimpy, Olive Oil and...”

I held my hand up. “How do you know about him?”

Mercea now seeming to be ten rather than twenty. “We all didn't cable or satellite out there. We did in Stryia...when it was up. The only broadcast station was in Chernivits in the Ukraine. If we were lucky. They showed some classic reruns from the West. Popeye was a favorite of mine.” He chuckled. “I didn't care for the can of spinach though.”

“That's two votes for Anchor Bay,” a I glanced at Mercea, “or Sweethaven.”

I saw Mikell's face harden as he looked at Mercea. Disciplining agents I wouldn't touch. I would leave that to Yuri and Mikell. I knew what Mercea had done was a breech of protocol. Or was it?

I stopped Mikell. “Technically,” I began making Mikell smile as he knew what I was going talk to him about. “He didn't break protocol.”

Mikell looked confused. “I was right there, I heard him.”

I nodded. “What did he say? Did he say I want to go or can we go.”

Mikell's head went back an inch as if that inch would make him see me clearer. “No.”

I nodded. “He inferred he wouldn't mind. He didn't even say that.” I waved at the others. “I am leaving what you do with these men to Yuri and you. Don't crush his spirit. I could see your face and knew you were going to yell at him.” Now, I was looking at Mikell from back an inch. “Do you ever yell?”

Mikell chuckled. “I try not to. It hurts my throat.” He put his hand on his chest. “My grandmother said, a soft answer does away wrath.”

My eyes widened. “You quoted a Bible verse. Was that Psalms?”

Mikell shook his head. “No, but you were close. Proverbs 15, I think.”

I snapped my fingers. “The poker game!” I nodded. “You called someone a son of a bitch.”

Mikell laughed. “I did that a few times with several of them.”

I nodded. “About this friendship. Mentor him. You do it now! When you took him into the Big Bar. Making a search and sterilizing the area the Principal, Peter and me. I know you have to be aware of your surroundings all the time keep a sharp eye out. Being pro-active not reactive. There will be times when that don't even think about it look will crucial. There will be times the need to blend in is preferred. This is that time. The image this principal wants to project is cohesion. There's a whole list of things like self-confidence. He has all of that.” I watched Mikell's eye widen. “There's just one thing we need to change. The image is one of them. This Principal doesn't want the wrong one showing.”

“How...where...” Mikell stuttered a little.

He may have studied a similar text. My use of terms were and what they were. “I read. Tomorrow or the day after we pick up Yuri.” I chuckled not so free of a little trepidation. “I wouldn't go up against him without some some preparation.”

Mikell shook his head. “You're a prince! He'll have to.”

I shook my head. “We can, but I've come to love Yuri and Boris like family. He is family. I'll do it with all of you, too. I'm trying to not hurt his feelings...at all.”

Mikell nodded. “I will...” he did air quotes, “remind him of the protocols. He can suggest when asked, but our preference is irrelevant.”

“You want to wait in the car this time?” Mercea chuckled to Mikell.

Mikell shrugged. “Someone has to.” He waved at the town/village. “I outgrew my love of cartoons. It could have a had quick fix. You know it was all sexual frustration.”

“Because Olive Oil make up her mind?” I grinned.

“No!” Mikell said smiling. “Between Popeye and Bluto! You know they were in love.” He said getting in the car.

Peter was beside Mercea his head already shaking as he chuckled.

“Did you hear that?” I asked them. “That's something I would say!”

“He doesn't own it.” Peter came over “No infringement of copyrights. You can use it, too. I'm sure that observation has been made many times.”

“It will be stale.” I protested.

“Jokes get stale?” Mercea asked.

“Everything can get stale.” I shrugged. “I know there are times you hear someone begin something and you think. Not this again. That's because its' stale!”

Popeye's Village was an attraction. No roller coasters or even one of those chair lifts that took from one end to the other and save you from walking. It was popular for other uses. A children's birthday, (or adults, too), business lunches or dinners, team building, they did weddings, had shows and yadda, yadda, yaddah...you don't really care I was sounding like a commercial. I hate commercials. Commercials and math are the same list of Don't Want but Gotta Have.

This town or village was constructed in 1979 for making the movie. Malta was keeping it and were making money. I would, too. It created jobs for it's citizens.

Built on a rocky cliff side, this new village looked old the first day. It was supposed to. The arrangement and placing of the twenty some odd buildings looked it was in a cartoon. New wood siding looked like warped wood and faded paint. These ram shackled wooden structures crowded together on the cliff.

“Are we going out tonight?” Peter asked casually as we walked with an arm around each other's waist.

“If you want to.” I said. “We'll have to be who we are this time.”

Peter's brow wrinkled. “We are who we are every time even if they don't know who we are.”

The slight quiver of the corners of his mouth was a hint. I pulled his glasses up and confirmed it. I put his glasses back down. “That was pretty good, Babe.”

“Pretty good?” Peter asked stopping us.

“You're new to this,” I confessed sadly. Then I sneered. “I'm better.” I began to get us moving again. “There is a dance club practically in visual range of the Duchess. We can walk there and back.” I glanced back at Mikell. “There you'll have to wear those suits and DFWM faces.” I said the whole thing in Makarovian except the letters which I did in English.”

“Our what?” Mikell asked.

The people in Malta spoke English, too. It was one of the two required languages. Signs and billboards were in English over businesses. Glancing around to see who was closest. “Your Don't Fuck with Me face.” I muttered and kept my voice low.

Mikell's eyes widened and he burst out laughing. “I love this guy.” He said to Peter.

“So do I.” Peter said.