Cal was - busy on Christmas Day back home, what with Bela visiting and their distracting each other from the emptiness the holiday holds for them both. And so it is that, when he finds himself in Milliways on the twenty-sixth, the headline on the New York Times Bar provides with his raktajino catches him by surprise.
TITANIC REPLICA ALMOST
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Sam wanders in post-sword practice, ruffling Cal's hair in an absent-minded sort of way as he heads for a sofa to sprawl on.
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"I think my new world is kinda weird," he says.
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There's even a picture.
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"That's... different."
Pause.
"I nearly wound up sailing on the original. It was fun to explore when it was still floating."
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. . . yes, he's going make Sam ask.
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This is Cal's major theory about Sam. That he first put into words just now.
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"Nuh-uh," Sam protests. "I built the capital at Gehenna before humans even thought of the concept of Hell."
Note how he's not denying the theory in general, Cal. Note it well.
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"Not what I meant and you know it," he declares, good-naturedly.
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INNOCENCE.
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"Oh, no," he says. "Never. I must be thinking of some other immortal smartass."
To be fair, he does know more than one person who could fit that description.
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