Uncountably Infinite - Prologue
By Vendetta17, aka crASHed
Prologue
“Junior, I do not know why you even bother with these inferior, insipid bipeds. I mean, I understand, your father’s fascination with those fools probably rubbed up on you during you impressionable years. Still, you went even further back in time to a point where this harebrained species was even more boring. Come to think about it, this should not even be possible. Anyway, can you not find a more productive way to entertain yourself?” Q’s mother could only shake her head at her wayward son.
“I know mom, you’ve never liked humans, but dad and I do. For crying out loud, my godmother is human! They are not as boring as you think. Besides, back then, at least they had a sense of fashion.” Junior countered, getting a little tired of the same old argument with his mother. “As for being productive, I believe my plan is more than productive, it is ingenious and quite romantic.” Junior sighed dreamily. “Anyway, I’ve gotta go. I first want to meet the Queen in her own court, that is,” Junior was about to disappear when his mother touched his arm.
“Queen? Where there still Queens in the 21st century? Junior, please tell me you are not going back to the Middle Ages!” Junior’s mother demanded exasperated.
“Of course not, mother. I am talking about a real queen, not one that achieved her status by birth or because see married her inbred cousin who happens to be a prince. I am talking about the Queen of fashion!” Junior exclaimed joyfully.
“The queen of fashion?” was all his mother could get out before her son disappeared in a blinding flash. “Kids!” she grumbled, “I never should have let Q talk me into having them in the first place.”
***
“Miranda,” Emily’s black Jimmy Choo’s clacking noisily on Runway’s floors as she hurried down the hall to the boss’s office. As she entered Miranda’s office, the editor did not look up from the pictures of the latest photo shoot on her desk, but still pursed her lips and exclaimed scathingly,
“Emily, I do not recall calling you into my office. I told you, I do not want to be disturbed while I am trying to correct the utter disaster that Nigel calls a photo shoot. On the other hand, maybe you suddenly carry a death wish?” Miranda’s voice was as calm as if she had asked Emily for the time.
“No, Miranda, I’m sorry, but there is this young man who demands to talk to you. He insists that he will help you correct the worst mistake you’ve ever made and he, well, he says that your future depends on this and, well, I don’t know, but…”
“Emily,” now Miranda sounded exasperated. “Are you on drugs? Did you take too many diet pills? What on earth are you rambling about? My worst mistake? My future depends on seeing this man? You dare to bother me with the ramblings of an obviously mentally unstable imbecile?” Miranda’s voice managed to drop the room temperature by several degrees.
“Excuse me, Miranda. My name is Anteros Simon and I am here to help you,” Junior strode into Miranda’s office purposefully and introduced himself smiling, completely unimpressed by Miranda’s death glare.
Miranda’s focus shifted away from Emily and centered on this most unwelcome intruder. Emily used this distraction to escape the dragon’s den noiselessly. She really had no idea why she even went to Miranda with Simon’s request in the first place. Usually, she would have laughed in his face and just shooed him away. However, once she looked into his eyes she had the utter compulsion to report his request to Miranda.
***
Back inside Miranda’s office, Junior kept smiling at a still glowering Miranda. She could not believe the audacity of this boy. Through her irritation, she suddenly noticed Simon’s suit belonged to the Zegna’s Couture collection. At least he was not a fashion imbecile, just one regarding social and business interactions.
“Well, Mr. Simon, since you so rudely injected yourself into my completely booked day, could we just get down to business so that you can go back to where you came from?” Miranda spoke calmly, yet letting her impatience be heard with the enunciation of every word.
“Of course, Miranda. May I say first say though, it is a please to finally meet you. I just adore fashion and your work in the industry has been truly inspiring.” Junior had a hard time preventing himself from gushing in delight now that he found himself standing in front of THE Miranda Priestly.
“You don’t say,” Miranda responded dryly, quirking an unimpressed eyebrow.
“Yes. Anyway, as I told your lovely assistant, I would like to offer you a chance to change your greatest mistake,” Junior offered, sounding extremely pleased with himself.
“Indeed,” Miranda scoffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “And pray tell, what do you in your apparently infinite knowledge of my life consider to be my greatest mistake?” Miranda’s smile became the definition of unpleasant. Again, Junior was not fazed by this in the slightest.
“Well, that would be telling, wouldn’t it? Besides, half the fun of this adventure will be in you figuring this out. Even though, once we reach our destination you should immediately realize what is going on. I mean, you are quite intelligent, so this shouldn’t be too hard,” Junior gave Miranda another delighted smile, unaware that the fashion Icon considered causing serious bodily harm to this obnoxiously well-dressed boy. Only her respect for his suit let her hesitate in her desire.
“I do not even have the time for this conversation, if you believe that I will go anywhere with you, you are more deluded than I expected,” Miranda scoffed. “Get out. This has not even been little amusing. That’s all.” Miranda waved at Simon to leave her office while sitting back down behind her desk, ready to continue her work.
“Yes!” Junior squealed excitedly. “I was really hoping to hear you say this. ‘That’s all,’ it’s such a classic,” Junior sighed elatedly.
Miranda, now completely stunned, looked up at Simon; this boy was seriously disturbed. “Please leave. Now.” Miranda loathed repeating herself.
“Sorry, Miranda, but I can’t do that. As I said, I want to help you, so, let’s go, shall we? No time like the present,” Junior went on and started laughing, no time like the present indeed.
Miranda, completely convinced that this boy had indeed lost his mind, picked up her phone to call security. As she put the phone to her ear, she immediately realized that the line was dead. This was not good. “Emily?” Miranda called her first assistant. No response, this started to slide from not good to bad. Miranda looked back at Simon incensed.
“What are you playing at?” she pressed out aggravated.
“I told you. I will help you.” Junior moved forward and touched Miranda’s hand.
Suddenly, Miranda was blinded by a bright light, she felt slightly lightheaded and then her world started to spin. Then, everything went really quiet for a second, before she heard a raspy female voice call, “Red Alert.” Miranda tried to focus her vision, looked at her surroundings and frowned. Who was she? Where was Simon? Also, who where these people and why were they dressed in such hideous uniforms? This must be a nightmare, Miranda decided while looking around speechless. Suddenly, there was another plop and a bright flashing light blinded her again. Once the light was gone, Miranda was convinced that she indeed found herself within the thrall of her worst nightmare. There, before her very eyes stood her former second assistant Andréa Sachs. She had seen the girl sometimes within the last year, when Andréa was walking past Elias-Clarke on her way to the Mirror. Yet, she had not interacted with Andréa since that fateful day in Paris. The day Andréa left Miranda. Standing, alone amidst vultures, trying to prevent herself from running after this silly girl. Now, here she was, standing in front of Miranda, looking about as clueless and confused as Miranda herself felt. All the while they were surrounded by people dressed in such a manner that Miranda was convinced her eyes would start bleeding violently, any second now. Still, Andréa managed to press out a startled “Miranda?” before both of them became aware of the tall dark man with funny shaped ears pointing what looked like a laser gun, in their direction.
“Who are you and what are you doing on Voyager?” the same raspy voice, which belonged to the same formidable auburn haired, compact woman, who had issued the red alert earlier, addressed both Miranda and Andréa.
Chapter 1
Prologue
“Junior, I do not know why you even bother with these inferior, insipid bipeds. I mean, I understand, your father’s fascination with those fools probably rubbed up on you during you impressionable years. Still, you went even further back in time to a point where this harebrained species was even more boring. Come to think about it, this should not even be possible. Anyway, can you not find a more productive way to entertain yourself?” Q’s mother could only shake her head at her wayward son.
“I know mom, you’ve never liked humans, but dad and I do. For crying out loud, my godmother is human! They are not as boring as you think. Besides, back then, at least they had a sense of fashion.” Junior countered, getting a little tired of the same old argument with his mother. “As for being productive, I believe my plan is more than productive, it is ingenious and quite romantic.” Junior sighed dreamily. “Anyway, I’ve gotta go. I first want to meet the Queen in her own court, that is,” Junior was about to disappear when his mother touched his arm.
“Queen? Where there still Queens in the 21st century? Junior, please tell me you are not going back to the Middle Ages!” Junior’s mother demanded exasperated.
“Of course not, mother. I am talking about a real queen, not one that achieved her status by birth or because see married her inbred cousin who happens to be a prince. I am talking about the Queen of fashion!” Junior exclaimed joyfully.
“The queen of fashion?” was all his mother could get out before her son disappeared in a blinding flash. “Kids!” she grumbled, “I never should have let Q talk me into having them in the first place.”
***
“Miranda,” Emily’s black Jimmy Choo’s clacking noisily on Runway’s floors as she hurried down the hall to the boss’s office. As she entered Miranda’s office, the editor did not look up from the pictures of the latest photo shoot on her desk, but still pursed her lips and exclaimed scathingly,
“Emily, I do not recall calling you into my office. I told you, I do not want to be disturbed while I am trying to correct the utter disaster that Nigel calls a photo shoot. On the other hand, maybe you suddenly carry a death wish?” Miranda’s voice was as calm as if she had asked Emily for the time.
“No, Miranda, I’m sorry, but there is this young man who demands to talk to you. He insists that he will help you correct the worst mistake you’ve ever made and he, well, he says that your future depends on this and, well, I don’t know, but…”
“Emily,” now Miranda sounded exasperated. “Are you on drugs? Did you take too many diet pills? What on earth are you rambling about? My worst mistake? My future depends on seeing this man? You dare to bother me with the ramblings of an obviously mentally unstable imbecile?” Miranda’s voice managed to drop the room temperature by several degrees.
“Excuse me, Miranda. My name is Anteros Simon and I am here to help you,” Junior strode into Miranda’s office purposefully and introduced himself smiling, completely unimpressed by Miranda’s death glare.
Miranda’s focus shifted away from Emily and centered on this most unwelcome intruder. Emily used this distraction to escape the dragon’s den noiselessly. She really had no idea why she even went to Miranda with Simon’s request in the first place. Usually, she would have laughed in his face and just shooed him away. However, once she looked into his eyes she had the utter compulsion to report his request to Miranda.
***
Back inside Miranda’s office, Junior kept smiling at a still glowering Miranda. She could not believe the audacity of this boy. Through her irritation, she suddenly noticed Simon’s suit belonged to the Zegna’s Couture collection. At least he was not a fashion imbecile, just one regarding social and business interactions.
“Well, Mr. Simon, since you so rudely injected yourself into my completely booked day, could we just get down to business so that you can go back to where you came from?” Miranda spoke calmly, yet letting her impatience be heard with the enunciation of every word.
“Of course, Miranda. May I say first say though, it is a please to finally meet you. I just adore fashion and your work in the industry has been truly inspiring.” Junior had a hard time preventing himself from gushing in delight now that he found himself standing in front of THE Miranda Priestly.
“You don’t say,” Miranda responded dryly, quirking an unimpressed eyebrow.
“Yes. Anyway, as I told your lovely assistant, I would like to offer you a chance to change your greatest mistake,” Junior offered, sounding extremely pleased with himself.
“Indeed,” Miranda scoffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “And pray tell, what do you in your apparently infinite knowledge of my life consider to be my greatest mistake?” Miranda’s smile became the definition of unpleasant. Again, Junior was not fazed by this in the slightest.
“Well, that would be telling, wouldn’t it? Besides, half the fun of this adventure will be in you figuring this out. Even though, once we reach our destination you should immediately realize what is going on. I mean, you are quite intelligent, so this shouldn’t be too hard,” Junior gave Miranda another delighted smile, unaware that the fashion Icon considered causing serious bodily harm to this obnoxiously well-dressed boy. Only her respect for his suit let her hesitate in her desire.
“I do not even have the time for this conversation, if you believe that I will go anywhere with you, you are more deluded than I expected,” Miranda scoffed. “Get out. This has not even been little amusing. That’s all.” Miranda waved at Simon to leave her office while sitting back down behind her desk, ready to continue her work.
“Yes!” Junior squealed excitedly. “I was really hoping to hear you say this. ‘That’s all,’ it’s such a classic,” Junior sighed elatedly.
Miranda, now completely stunned, looked up at Simon; this boy was seriously disturbed. “Please leave. Now.” Miranda loathed repeating herself.
“Sorry, Miranda, but I can’t do that. As I said, I want to help you, so, let’s go, shall we? No time like the present,” Junior went on and started laughing, no time like the present indeed.
Miranda, completely convinced that this boy had indeed lost his mind, picked up her phone to call security. As she put the phone to her ear, she immediately realized that the line was dead. This was not good. “Emily?” Miranda called her first assistant. No response, this started to slide from not good to bad. Miranda looked back at Simon incensed.
“What are you playing at?” she pressed out aggravated.
“I told you. I will help you.” Junior moved forward and touched Miranda’s hand.
Suddenly, Miranda was blinded by a bright light, she felt slightly lightheaded and then her world started to spin. Then, everything went really quiet for a second, before she heard a raspy female voice call, “Red Alert.” Miranda tried to focus her vision, looked at her surroundings and frowned. Who was she? Where was Simon? Also, who where these people and why were they dressed in such hideous uniforms? This must be a nightmare, Miranda decided while looking around speechless. Suddenly, there was another plop and a bright flashing light blinded her again. Once the light was gone, Miranda was convinced that she indeed found herself within the thrall of her worst nightmare. There, before her very eyes stood her former second assistant Andréa Sachs. She had seen the girl sometimes within the last year, when Andréa was walking past Elias-Clarke on her way to the Mirror. Yet, she had not interacted with Andréa since that fateful day in Paris. The day Andréa left Miranda. Standing, alone amidst vultures, trying to prevent herself from running after this silly girl. Now, here she was, standing in front of Miranda, looking about as clueless and confused as Miranda herself felt. All the while they were surrounded by people dressed in such a manner that Miranda was convinced her eyes would start bleeding violently, any second now. Still, Andréa managed to press out a startled “Miranda?” before both of them became aware of the tall dark man with funny shaped ears pointing what looked like a laser gun, in their direction.
“Who are you and what are you doing on Voyager?” the same raspy voice, which belonged to the same formidable auburn haired, compact woman, who had issued the red alert earlier, addressed both Miranda and Andréa.
Chapter 1