Leonard was on the deck of the Olympic, enjoying the feeling of the wind through his hair. The air here smelled clean, fresh, and invigorating - a one-hundred-and-eighty degree turn from London's filthy streets and choking pollution. So many people crammed together in one of the greatest cities in the world led to the usual human problems, not the least of which was the smell. So many automobiles tooling through streets designed for horses gave the place a chemical stench that was hard to get out of your clothes and hair.
It was therefore ironic that Leonard lit up a cigarette and began to enjoy the taste of the burning tobacco. At least now he could choose how to stink up the air, rather than have a few hundred thousand of his closest friends and neighbors do that for him. He watched as the waves splashed harmlessly against the ocean liner's hull, still kilometers away from land in any direction. He leaned against the rail, and watched some of his fellow passengers wander the decks. A young well-dressed woman entered the bar with a small entourage of assistants. Clearly, she had some wealth. Not unusual for this ship at all. She was way out of his league.