02-01-2015, 07:33 PM
"Yes... though I doubt anyone remembers me. I've rather fallen out of the old boy network since I left." Crispin sounded rather wistful, but shook off the melancholy and began briskly removing papers from the satchel and spreading them across the parquet floor. In methodical order, the inlaid wood was replaced with antique-looking rag paper covered in neat drawings and notes written in a peculiar faded ink. Truly written, too. The author obviously didn't hold with print, but his cursive was easily legible and complemented the outdated appearance of the schematics.
In only moments, the two men were looking down at a half circle of meticulous drawings, and Crispin was taking a childlike pleasure in sharing his vessel's secrets. "The ones on the left are just the layout of the ship. In the middle are the schema of the engines, and to the right are the plans of the automatic piloting system." He smiled at the diagrams with the fatuous expression of a proud father, then looked back at Spade with a tinge of concern. "You will tell me if you can see why she's being so stubborn, won't you?"
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