The first installment
He came slowly to consciousness, feeling as if he was swimming in very dark, very cold water towards a surface seen only as a hazy circle of light somewhere in the blackness above him. As he came closer and closer to awakening, he began remembering things, little details about his past, and the sensations surrounding his prone body.
He became aware of people clustered around his body but it took some time for the meaning behind their words to sink in. They all seemed to be talking about him, and they were very excited..and a little frightened.
"What do you think happened to him? He's been out for a long time."
"Yes, rather. Would you look at that skin? Where do you suppose he came from, old chap?"
"Forget where he came from, the question is who he is, wouldn't you say? Fine lot of good it does us to have spent all this time nursing the blaggard if he turns out to be some rebel from one of the colonies or another, eh?"
"Quite, quite, but there's no point in figuring out who he is before we can even talk to him. I say, that could be embarrassing, eh? Take him for some rebel bastard and hang him, then find out he's some Grand Poobah's son or some such."
"I say the question is What is he? I've never seen aught like him before. His skin looks like he could be one of our Indian servants, but those eyes! I've heard of those Chinamen, but they were never described like this one. And those weapons he had! They were so cruel!"
Another voice, deeper and with much more authority, cut through the chatter. "Questions be damned! Quiet, all of you. the man is waking!'
He opened his eyes slowly, wincing against the light. At first all he could see was muffled colors and the vague outlines of several people, most of whom seemed to be straining to get a good look at him.
Something seemed very wrong, out of place, but he couldn't figure out what exactly it was. Something about the way the onlookers were talking, maybe, or something they had said. There also seemed to be something off about his surroundings. He appeared to be in a large four-poster bed with elaborate linens and a privacy screen, but he couldn't remember having ever slept in a bed like that before.
The surrounding people leaned in closer to him, straining to hear what he was muttering.
"Can anyone get him, chaps? I can't make out a bloody word!"
"I think he's asking a question. Sounded like 'Where in the Empire am I?' But I could be mistaken."
His eyes finally open, he got an arm underneath him and propped himself into a sitting position.
"Yes," he said as respectfully as he could manage, "that is indeed what I asked, sirs and ladies. I have no knowledge of the day or my present location, nor of how I came to be here. I apologize for any encumbrances I may have brought upon you, and will of course take my own life to make up for the lost honor." Something seemed wrong even with the way he was speaking, but he decided to wait and figure it out later...if there was a later for him.
The people around him were starting to come into focus, the men wearing tightly buttoned and tucked suits with neatly trimmed beards and long, graying hair tied at the nape of the neck with black ribbons. Although several of the men had obviously let themselves go to fat, all of them carried themselves with strait-backed military precision. The few women wore full-length billowing gowns in bright colors with tightly-laced bodices and entirely too much rouge on their cheeks. It was at that point the man on the bed realized something was very, very wrong.