Dirty Little Secrets

Sagehood has nothing to do with governing others but is a matter of ordering oneself. Nobility has nothing to do with power and rank but is a matter of self-realization. Attain self-realization, and the whole world is found in the self. Happiness has nothing to do with wealth and status, but is a matter of harmony. - Lao-tze

On the afternoon of the seventh day, the Statendam III arrived in Rotterdam. Eve Quinlan arranged to have her baggage transported to the train station, with the exception of one overnight bag, which the cab driver packed into the trunk of his cab. Her face was pale as she slid into the back of the car, obviously still not quite feeling well, but none the worse either. As she gazed listlessly out the car window at the passing city, she noted the opportunities for new industries to grow here in Rotterdam. She imagined that it could eventually become one of the largest seaports in the world. I’ll have to adjust my investment strategies, she thought, this could be lucrative, indeed.

Eve planned to stay a few days in Rotterdam visiting the museums and doing a little shopping. She thought she might call Poison Ivy while she was here. It would be good to see a familiar face again, if even for a short time. She had so few friends in the world these days… but then, business always took precendence over pleasure. She wouldn’t be where she was if it hadn’t, though she felt she had somehow missed something important in life by focussing so much on business and high finance. Still, there was a lot to say for having wealth. It certainly seemed better than not having it.

The cab pulled up in front of the Savoy. Her bag was brought to the counter, she tipped the driver handsomely, then turned to the clerk. “Yes, miss, may I be of some service?” the young man behind the front desk said. “Eve Quinlan, I have a reservation,” she told him. He nodded and presented her with a key. The bellboy scurried over and took her bag and they headed up the elevator to the top floor suite.

After Sydney Reilly had disappeared for parts unknown, Eve Quinlan’s heart just wasn’t in the Market anymore. The thought that he could just leave like that… it bothered her more than she let on. She couldn’t keep her mind on her investments. Besides, she’d already planned a trip to the Far East to meet with some of her parents’ contacts in the tea industry, for they were getting on in years and Eve was needed to take over the family business… something she’d been studying and looking forward to for years.

She booked passage on the Statendam III from New York to Rotterdam, a journey of eight days. One of only two Holland America liners to have three stacks, the Statendam III was truly one the more elegant “Edwardian” steamers afloat. The ship had the elegance that made ocean liner travel the experience it was… fine woods, beautiful marbles, the art and architecture that made her truly a majestic ship. The two-story dining room, the Veranda Caf�, was paneled in oak, furnished with Louis XIV style chairs and decorated with Gobelin tapestries and period paintings.

Eve slept in a First Class stateroom which featured a marble-topped washbasin, two portholes, wicker easy chair, full-sized bed, and an oriental carpet. It even had private bath facilities, the first such trans-Atlantic liner to provide such amenities in First Class. She kept mostly to her room during the voyage, taking her meals privately rather than in the dining room. She only ventured out in late afternoon for tea and a game of cards. Ladies weren’t welcome in the smoking lounge, but she’d rather spend her evenings alone, since Reilly had gone.

In fact, you might think that she’d stopped caring about everything altogether, except that wasn’t quite true. She still had her investments in the Market, though she was no longer the wealthiest investor. She’d stayed with the stocks, something she knew better than many other players in the Market, and built her fortune from millions to billions in worth, while Poison Ivy was now a trillionaire. The Cartel had split up, some of its members heading for the South American jungles, others went west to Hollywood. Eventually, Eve was offered a seat on the Market Exchange Commission, which she somewhat reluctantly accepted after lengthy private negotiations with the new manager of the Market, Jake Hamble.

The evil villain, MonkeyX, fled out of the country after the monkeymachines turned on him. Some said he was secretly working for the Kaiser in Germany, but no one really knew. Occasional rumors would surface as to his whereabouts but nothing had been confirmed as of yet. Eve watched the papers, sifting for clues, and had her network of informants keeping her apprised of any activity that might indicate the presence of MonkeyX.

On the fourth day at sea, Eve became violently ill. The ship’s doctor was sent for. He examined her, but could find nothing wrong. He gave her a sedative and sent her to bed. She slept, fitfully, murmuring Reilly’s name over and over.