Chapter 635: Schiller's Leisurely Vacation (Part 2) (Patreon)
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In the midst of their conversation, Arthur turned his head and was surprised to see Schiller's figure. "Professor Rodriguez, what are you doing here?" he asked.
"I went for a walk after dinner, and then I overheard you saying you were going to rescue someone. Who are you trying to save, and why didn't you call the police?" Schiller inquired.
Arthur suddenly appeared somewhat embarrassed. "Calling the police might not help because the person I need to save is quite far away..."
"How far?" Schiller asked.
"Over 4500 kilometers."
Schiller looked astonished. "You mean the person you want to rescue is on the West Coast?"
"That's correct. The width of the U.S. mainland is roughly around 4500 kilometers, so if we consider the opposite direction, the distance wouldn't be exactly the width of the country."
"He's trapped on a small island near California, and it seems he's recently injured. I need to find a way to help him."
"But how do you know? Did he call you on the telephone? If he did, why didn't he call the police directly?"
Schiller knew that Arthur had obtained this information through communication with a school of fish, but he wanted Arthur to admit it himself.
"I..." Arthur seemed unsure of how to explain and glanced back at the group of fish still waiting for him. "You might think I'm crazy, but I can hear fish talking. I've had this ability since I was a child."
"The fish have been telling me that someone is trapped on a small island near California, and they've been bringing me updates about that person. I'm preparing to rescue him, but I didn't expect him to get injured today."
Before Schiller could respond, Arthur waved his hand and continued, "I know you might be thinking of calling the police to arrest me or send me to a mental hospital, but others have tried that before. The police won't arrest someone just because they claim to hear fish talk unless they're also insane."
Schiller shook his head and said, "You don't have to worry. I'm older than you, and I've seen my fair share of peculiar things. You're not that unique. What I'm more curious about is how you plan to rescue him."
"I plan to take a boat there. I'm actually a skilled swimmer, but I don't think he can..."
"Don't tell me you intend to go south through the Panama Canal or north through the Bering Strait, then circle around to the West Coast? Aside from whether you can endure such a journey, are you sure your boat can handle it?" Schiller asked.
"But I've only had dealings with the ocean. I haven't even ridden a train, and I don't know how to get to California," Arthur appeared lost. A journey this far was something he had only seen in movies, particularly those road trip films.
In those movies, the protagonists usually hitchhiked, but Arthur felt he didn't have the right charisma for that, and his appearance could easily be mistaken for someone up to no good.
Schiller sighed and said, "If what you're saying is true, and the person you want to save is injured and can't hold on much longer, it's a matter of life and death. I can help."
Arthur looked at Schiller with hopeful eyes, and Schiller shook his head. "If you want to reach California as quickly as possible, the best way is to take a plane. However, there is no airport in Brooklyn, and the nearest one is Gotham Airport."
"If we leave now and drive to Gotham, it will already be night by the time we arrive. You must have heard many stories about Gotham at night. Are you really willing to go?"
Schiller had a strong suspicion that the unfortunate person trapped on the island near California was likely Green Arrow. Among all of DC, only Oliver Queen had been stranded on a deserted island in a Robinson Crusoe scenario.
"No, I have to go. In fact, I heard about this weeks ago, but I thought he could manage on his own..." Arthur sighed. "I should have found a way to go earlier. I can't just watch him die there, can I?"
"Every night, the fish bring me the latest updates on him. He's a very resilient hero, never giving up in the face of adversity. After hearing his story of surviving on that deserted island, I can't just stand by and let him die."
Schiller turned and headed towards Arthur's house, and Arthur followed him.
Back inside the house, before the anxious-looking Arthur could speak, Schiller said, "Mr. Curry, we're back."
Old Curry, who was adding logs to the fireplace, glanced at them and said, "Oh, it's getting late now, Professor. Your guest room is upstairs, and you can rest whenever you like."
"Perhaps I haven't told you what I teach. I am a psychology professor at Gotham University, and I'm also a psychologist."
"I saw Arthur standing outside looking at the sea, so I had a chat with him, and I realized he seems eager to see the world beyond."
Old Curry paused, seemingly catching Schiller's drift. He stood up and looked at Arthur. Arthur, no longer as expressionless as before, appeared moved. Old Curry sighed, saying, "I've been telling you for a while now to go out and see the world, but you always said you loved the sea and didn't want to leave. But you do need to explore the world."
Old Curry sighed as he sat down on the sofa. "Your mother perished in a sea tragedy, and I was busy with my lighthouse duties, neglecting your education. Your reluctance to travel or attend school, and your desire to stay here, Arthur, it's not ideal..."
Arthur's lips moved, and he said, "I don't know why, but I have this deep attachment to the sea. Just the thought of going to a place without the sea makes me feel apprehensive."
"That's probably because you're unfamiliar with such places. Maybe if you go and see, you'll have a different feeling," Schiller said to Arthur. He paused for a moment before continuing, "Coincidentally, I have an academic meeting in California. To show my gratitude for the fish soup you treated me to, I can take you along."
At the mention of an academic meeting, Old Curry's eyes lit up. He had spent his entire life in this city, and the word "academic" rarely entered his realm.
Or rather, no one in this city had any connection to that word. It was just an inconspicuous East Coast town, and most people followed in their family's footsteps. Even going to a prestigious university was rare, let alone entering the academic world.
"You can consider a field of study that interests you. If you have genuine talent in that area, I can have someone write you a recommendation letter. Who knows, you might even attend Metropolis University or another East Coast university," Schiller said. By now, Old Curry's eyes were gleaming with excitement.
The lighthouse keeper, a simple and gentle man, hoped for his children to attend good schools, have good jobs, and lead happy lives, rather than being trapped in this city, working hard and dangerously as fishermen on fishing boats.
Schiller wasn't particularly favoring Arthur; he was just considering Arthur's future role as the ruler of the Seven Seas, the master of Atlantis, essentially the leader of all marine life. If he could lead a more normal life among humans, he would become very close to humanity, much like Clark, which would be beneficial to both sides.
Going to college with Clark, who was close to humans, would be a good idea. They should get along fairly well, at least they wouldn't argue all the time like Clark and Bruce did when they were together.
Arthur seemed pleasantly surprised; he hadn't expected to receive praise from a university professor. In his high school days, if he had received a recommendation letter from a renowned university professor, all his teachers would have called him a genius.
"Of course, you can do that, Arthur. You must... must thank this professor!" Old Curry chimed in eagerly.
Before Arthur could respond, Schiller glanced at his watch. "I'm afraid we need to leave now. This is an impromptu meeting to discuss a recently discovered major research finding. I have to drive to Gotham Airport and catch a flight. If you want to come, start packing your bags."
Without waiting for Arthur's answer, Old Curry immediately rushed him upstairs, saying, "Of course, you should go. I wonder if the weather in California is hotter than here? The T-shirts I bought for you will come in handy. Oh, and don't forget to bring your deodorant..."
Soon, Arthur's luggage was packed. He didn't bring much, just some change of clothes and daily essentials. Schiller and he walked to where Schiller had parked earlier. Arthur asked, "Can we still buy plane tickets now?"
Schiller glanced at his watch; it was past 9 p.m. If it were the 21st century, booking tickets at night wouldn't be a problem. However, it was 1989, and airlines still relied on in-person or telephone bookings.
In other words, if they wanted to book a flight now, they would have to go to a counter or call. But after 9:00 p.m., both the counters and telephone customer service were closed. So, unless they used certain privileges reserved for the wealthy, getting tickets would be difficult.
"No connections," Schiller replied. "I happen to know a pilot friend who is on call around the clock."
"A pilot? But where are we going to find an airplane?" Arthur asked again.
Half an hour later, in Wayne Manor's square, Arthur stared in astonishment at the Bat Wing, which could hardly be called an airplane anymore; it was more like a relic.
"This is an outdated model; that's why I'm lending it to you," Batman, dressed and ready to go out to enforce justice, said to Schiller. "Because you found an unreliable pilot."
After saying this, he turned his head to look at Hal, who was standing next to him. Hal still seemed half-asleep; Schiller had dragged him out of bed, and he was on the verge of being half-awake and half-asleep.
Schiller poked him with an umbrella and said, "Wake up, you have to fly the plane."
Hal jolted awake and sighed, "What were you thinking? Crossing the entire U.S. in the middle of the night to go to California?"
"Of course, it's because I still have plenty of vacation time left, and I plan to see some new scenery," Schiller said. It was the truth; originally, he only had 18 days of vacation, most of which had already been used up. His travel plans were limited to nearby cities. But now, he had nearly a month of vacation. Why not venture a bit farther? He hadn't traveled within the U.S. yet.
Finally, the black Bat Wing slowly ascended into the air and then, with a whoosh, disappeared into the night like a shooting star.
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Next Chapter>>Chapter 636: Is this Gotham University's Professor? (Part 1)