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Stories from the Verse
A Dozen Verses
Chapter 50: Kondor 272
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Slade 267
It seemed that in London the most popular take-out, or “take-away” as it was called, was fish and chips, that is, French fried potatoes, and the next was curry. Kondor had never tried curry, but understood that it was hot, something Zeke confirmed from his postings in the east. They went with the fish, Kondor thinking that they ought also to have a green vegetable with it, but reminding himself that despite the bad reputation they had potatoes were actually rather nutritious.
Before they had thought about ordering breakfast Cameron was at the door. “I apologize,” he began, “both that I was not around to get you settled last night and that I am coming so early this morning.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Kondor said. “We’re all off schedule anyway, between bouncing in from another universe and then flying across half a dozen time zones before sleeping away most of the day and trying to sleep again most of the night. Jet lag was never as crazy as this.”
“In any case,” Cameron continued, “I have some official papers--contracts, tax forms, your driving licenses and other ID.”
He handed each of them a packet.
“On the subject of identification, you will each be issued six passports--one standard British, one British diplomatic, plus Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and the United States. We’ll want to put different names on each of them, but it works best if you select the names. That’s what these forms are for,” and he handed each of them another small packet that appeared to be paperwork for applying for passports of various types.
“Is there anything else?”
“I don’t--wait, yes, is there a diner around here where we can get some eggs and coffee?”
“Yes, that should have been on the list of local establishments you were given last night.”
“I saw it, Cap,” Zeke said. “I think I can find it.”
“Very good, then, if there’s nothing else?” He looked from one to the other and back, and then continued, “I’ll be back this afternoon to pick up those papers. Take your time and think about them. One of the British passports should use your real name, because that’s what we put on your driving licenses.”
“Thank you,” the pair said as Cameron saw himself to the door.
Kondor started with the identification package. Indeed the name on his driving license was Joseph W. Kondor, and he also had a bank account set up in that name, a library card, and a gym membership card.
He turned his attention to the passports. This was a bit of a quandary for him. He preferred not to lie, but realized that in this job it might be necessary to do so simply to get the job done. That meant coming up with names he could use with which he would feel comfortable. He was inclined to have his real name, Joseph Wade Kondor, on his American passport, but that was the name on his British identification, so it should go on the common British passport.
He thought about other names he had been called. In one world they had called him Jo-Suede Candor, simply because they got it wrong, but that wasn’t really a name. The birds called him Choe, because they couldn’t pronounce the voiced “J” in Joe. He also had tax identification documents, a Doctorate of Physical Sciences degree, and a few Certificates of Continuing Education under an assumed name, but in an odd quirk it was the name of the companion who eventually joined him, Doctor Ezekiel Smith. That might be awkward.
Or would it? There were many names that were common in different parts of the world. Several of them had international societies of people having the same name. It wouldn’t be particularly odd for two people with the same name to know each other. He decided that the American passport would be Doctor Ezekiel Smith, with doctorates in physics and medicine. That was two. What else?
He remembered reading somewhere that the first black man to receive a British knighthood was William Conrad Reeves, a nineteenth century lawyer in the British Caribbean colonies. He needed a name for a British Diplomatic passport, and that was a good choice; besides, he could say people called him Conner, for Conrad, and that would sound like his name to him. That was three down.
Canadian--what did he know about Canada? Not much, really. He knew the names of a few cities, a couple provinces, probably fewer people than places. Well, there was a movie that was made entirely by Canadian actors, most of them comedians and, it struck him, all of them white. He wasn’t sure any of them used their real names. There was Pierre Trufeaux, or Trudeau, or whatever it was, but he couldn’t even really remember the name. Hockey--that was Canadian, mostly. He’d heard of that player, what was his name, Bobby Orr? Was he Canadian? He could probably remember the name, anyway. Make it Robert Orr; use Joseph as a middle name, and he could joke that as a child he was called Bobby-Joe. That settled Canada.
Australia and New Zealand both had indigenous native populations, and he might be able to draw a name that sounded as if it was from that. He thought Choe was a good name, but should it be the given name or the surname? The birds who called him Choe called Slade Bob; Cho Bob might seem like a tribal name, so that would go on his New Zealand passport.
Struggling for a sixth name for the Australian passport, he remembered a band, something like Black Mambasa. That reminded him of the famed Zulu warrior king Shaka. Could he remember the name Shaka Mambasa? Could he pass that off as an Australian name? A lot of British criminals were sent to Australia, and that probably included some leading African rebels in the nineteenth century. Shaka Mambasa had a nice ring to it. That would do.
Finishing the paperwork, he said to Zeke, “I’ve got my six. How are you doing?”
“Not real good,” he said. “I could use some ideas. What are yours?”
Kondor recited the six names along with their nationalities. Zeke laughed.
“You used my name?”
“Well, yes, but not really because it’s your name. I told you before, I was surprised when I met you because in a previous world I’d been given an honorary Doctorate of Physical Sciences and earned a few medical certifications under that name. So I already have paperwork with your name on it.”
Zeke smiled impishly. “Could I use yours?”
“I suppose you could,” Kondor shrugged, “but it might get confusing. I’d say to use the names of other versers, but Derek is already registered here, so that’s probably not a good idea. But I’m not going to complain.”
Zeke just nodded and returned to the paperwork.
“You know,” Kondor said, “I was in one world where I had a good friend named Walters, and then in another eerily similar world where nearly the same guy was named Walter. You could be Walter Walters.”
“I like that,” he said. “Easy to remember. You don’t mind?”
“No, that’s fine. Let me know what you choose.”
Zeke worked for another hour, and Kondor watched the flat screen television on low sound. Finally, his friend stood up, and waved a sheet of paper. Kondor flipped the television off to listen.
“First, as you know is my name. Then also, as you know, Walter Walters. We both know Lauren Hastings, so I chose Hastings as a last name, and since I’d already done it once, I did it again. Harry Hastings. That’s three of the six.” Kondor nodded. These names would be easy to use and remember. “Of course, Slade. So I went with Saul, but no, and Shenandoah--”
“Shenandoah?” Kondor said skeptically. “Sounds like a girl’s name.”
“Yeah, it's a man’s name, at least in my world.”
Kondor didn’t say anything, but he thought it sounded like a stripper’s made up nomme de disrobe.
“But I decided on Stuart, so Stuart Slade. I remembered the Amirates, so I went for Amir, and Alan Amir was born. Last, I was struggling, but we met at Fort Porthos so I went with Paul Porthos.”
Kondor nodded. It was not at all what he would have chosen, but he liked the choices. And the alliteration would definitely help make it easier for them both to remember his fake names should they be needed. The very last thing you wanted to do upon entering a police state was to stumble on speaking the name of your friend. That would be a huge red flag for any suspicious border guard.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
