Does anything truly end in the universe entirely, or do stories/lives continue, on their
own, unbeknownst with or without a creator?
Anyway, prepare yourself for
Book V: New Brunel
of the Queen Bran's Revenge RP.
(Does it ever end??? I promise you, this is the last book, as far as I am aware. Sad, I know.)
own, unbeknownst with or without a creator?
Anyway, prepare yourself for
Book V: New Brunel
of the Queen Bran's Revenge RP.
(Does it ever end??? I promise you, this is the last book, as far as I am aware. Sad, I know.)
List of contributors:
Ezra Yesterday
Forlath Grey
Maj. Bastable "Iggy" Fitzwiggins
Ezra Yesterday
Forlath Grey
Maj. Bastable "Iggy" Fitzwiggins
Prologue:
Ezra Yesterday walked up to the guard outside the Regency Air Marshal VIP Quarters and asked, "Is he in?"
He hefted the awkward wooden box in his hands and added with a crooked grin, "I have a special delivery for him, he told me to keep him apprised of any interesting gate related artifacts. I think this one is right up his alley." The guard didn't.quite. break into a smile, but he nodded Ezra through.
When he got to the door he wanted, it was closed, but Ezra managed to knock with his boot and waited until the door opened. The man inside stepped back when he saw who it was and quickly cleared the vase and glow crystal lamps off a side table so Ezra could set his burden down.
"Ezra! It's been, what? Three months since you left on your exploration? How have you been man?"
"Hello, James," Ezra said, pausing to shake hands warmly before he busied himself opening the crate, "I'm doing well; just came back through the Orion gate. Estin says Hi, by the way, and wonders when you plan to visit again. He sent us a rare and special treat, made me promise not to open it till you could share in the bounty." with this he pulled out a dusty bottle, one of a dozen, and presented it with a flourish, "This scotch is rumored to be over 347 years old. Well, years is a concept that doesn't quite translate, but if I did the math right, it was bottled before Mary Queen of Scots lost her head."
He paused to consider, then asked, " Sorry, I forget, is that one of the things our history shares, or not?.. . No, No!! Never mind, forget I asked; we can get into Divergent History after we have some of this in us. Somehow it always makes more sense when we are drunk, don't you agree? "
James, or Commodore J. Foster Stackhouse, as his staff and the rest of the Regency Air Marshals called him, laughed and agreed, " Oh yes, by all means, let's leave off the dimensional theory for a bottle or two at least. It's a lovely evening, what say we take this intellectual debauchery out on the balcony?" He opened the French doors and sat on one of the woven wicker chairs in the shade of the balcony awning, as Ezra sat across from him and began to pour, a more serious look came over the Commodore's face as he quietly asked, "Any luck?"
Ezra paused in his bottle opening; he didn't have to guess what Stackhouse was asking. The colony here on New Brunel had originally come from Earth, England to be exact, at the height of Victorian era; but it was a different, stronger, Imperial Briton than the one that had existed in Ezra's past.
In 1847 the Empire had found a gateway to this world thanks to an accident caused by Isambard Kingdom Brunel, who had been trying to excavate a railway tunnel to France under the Channel. Using the odd gateway he found in the caves he uncovered, the Empire had built a colony on the new world, named after its discoverer, and thrived for nearly fifty years as an Imperial subject. Then, for reasons unknown, the gate just stopped working; that had been 23 years ago, and explorers had been going through the other gates ever since, trying to reestablish contact to the Empire. Ezra had been on just such a mission, trying to retrace his steps through the desert world he had last come from on the long, dangerous and sometimes just plain silly journey he had unwillingly taken since leaving his own version of Earth. He had not had any luck finding an exit from Estin's world, and silently shook his head.
"But," he said as he finished pouring drinks, "I did get this lovely crate of bottles as a consolation prize. Mind you, when I say `Scotch' you should be aware that it is actually the fermented juice of one of those orange gourds I told you about. Still, it has a lovely smokey flavor all its own. and Scotch sounds better than Gourd Juice any day. Mind you, I haven't had any nearly this old, but Estin swears it is like drinking fire.. smooth, orange, liquid fire. "
Stackhouse nodded in anticipation and pointed at Ezra's outfit, a matching lizard skin duster and cowboy hat and said, "I see you've picked up another trophy while you were away... Arno again?"
Ezra laughed loudly and replied, "How well you know him. Yes, he challenged me yet again, the silly sod. I told him he better stop, or I would have his entire wardrobe. I took his guns after our first duel three years ago.' At this, Ezra patted the huge pistol the green natives called a Four Shooter, and nodded his head back toward the one hanging on the wall io the Commodore's trophy wall inside, " I have returned every Suncrash since, and he always manages to find an offense to challenge me on. You were with me when I took his hat the second go round; with this duster I only lack the pants and shirt to have his whole outfit. I couldn't resist pointing out his boots were too small," They shared a chuckle," I swear, if looks could kill, I would have ended up just like that that poor frozen midget lizard... flat on my back in the glare of high moon. So; How about you, have you had any more trouble out of those Monarchist idiots while I was away?"
When the Earth gate had closed, there had been chaos; who would be in control of this new world now that there wasn't an Empire to enforce laws and protect the colony in the event of attack? In response to this question, the Colonial Parliament had been formed, and a Constitution quickly ratified. A mid-level Earl, George Herbert, who had recently moved to New Brunel in order to explore the ancient jungle ruins, was named the First Regent of New Brunel. His job was to administer the government of the Colony until the conduit to the Empire was reopened. Two decades later, the Monarchist movement had sprung up. It was an odd, reverse Cromwellian group who wanted to do away with the Regency and install a sovereign King of New Brunel to a newly minted throne. The last Ezra had heard before he left on his trip, it had all been painted graffiti and student protests, but he wanted to change the subject away from his lack of results.
Stackhouse shook his head and gave a wry grin, "No, it's been nice and quiet most of the time; even the weekly protests are starting to taper off in attendance. I almost feel sorry for the silly buggers." He picked up his glass and and raised a toast, "The Queen." Ezra smiled wistfully, raised his own glass and replied, "The Queen. and absent friends."
As they both raised their glasses to drink, the sky suddenly darkened, something large had just materialized in front of the sun.
As the shape registered in Ezra's mind he inhaled sharply, nearly drowning himself in the liquid fire of gourd juice that was bottled before Shakespeare wrote The Tempest. An airship had appeared in the sky over Victoria.An absolutely Huge airship by New Brunel military standards, large even for a freighter. Even silhouetted against the evening sun as it was, quite formidable armaments were obvious.
No, Ezra thought as he stood choking and staring through tear filled eyes, This was no freighter.
This was an airship he had once called Home.
Reply by Ezra Yesterday (on May 6, 2013)
Prologue, Concluded:
The next ½ hour had gone by in a blur for Ezra. He was certain that was the QBR, but he had no idea if it was His QBR; even if it was the same ship, was it still inhabited by his friends? It had been 3 years for him, no telling how long it had been for them.
Adding to his anxiety were the signs of recent battle damage all along the port side. The aetherstone chatter from the Air Marshal ships was no help, since the hastily scrambled R.A.M. gliders were not getting any response to their hails. Ezra had grabbed the Dueling pistol and belt he had given James off the wall as they sprinted out of his quarters and had silently tagged along, playing valet in order to follow the Commodore onto his flagship, Intolerant. He had to know what was happening.
The guards had taken his feigned look of confidence at face value; he acted like he should be there, so he must be authorized. Stackhouse had been busy at first, but noticed his presence soon enough, and Ezra was banned from the bridge, ordered to watch from the ready room. Friend or no, this was a threat to the very heart of the colony, no civilian distractions would be allowed.
Tensions had continued to heighten as the QBR drifted slowly closer and closer to the Regency residence; a warning shot was fired, and when they still didn't respond, the Commodore had ordered the Destroyers to spread out and train their full broadsides on the interloper.
Just as the order to open fire was about to be given, a set of flags was stuck out an open port, and began signaling "Wish to communicate" and "Request Rum" The second signal caused no little confusion, but was soon shown to be a mistake, as upon repeating it became "Request clearance into port"
Communication thus established, it was soon arranged that a boarding party would be sent to the large ship. As Ezra sat wondering what would happen next, Commodore Stackhouse strode into the ready room and said, "I think you should see this. There is another unauthorized visitor on my ship.. ." Here Stackhouse favored Ezra with an extremely dark look, "... Since you are the ranking stowaway, I am putting you in charge of this one, and holding you responsible for the conduct of yourself and the other prisoner for the remainder of this trip." Ezra was stunned at the words, but thought he detected an odd twinkle in the Commodore's eye as he gestured for the guard outside to bring in his captive, a small orange bundle of fur that launched itself toward the startled "ranking prisoner" with a joyous [but strangely mechanical sounding] cry of "XO Ezra!!" She landed on the shoulder of his duster, hopped up and down a few times and pointed out the window, repeating, "MO-MO!" over and over until he reached up and petted her.
Stackhouse smiled at Ezra and said, "I would say this pretty much confirms it. That's the QBR out there isn't it? Chi-Chi certainly seems to think so.' His smile turned into a mischievous grin as he continued, "Mr Yesterday, as part of your punishment pursuant to Aerotime Law, Article 722, paragraph 51 subsection C entitled: `Withholding joyous news from a long-time friend who just happens to also be a Commodore', I am drafting you into the Air guard in the capacity of ambassador for the duration of this crisis." He held up his hand and added, " Said posting is of course a non-paying rank, and will obtain until such time as you introduce me to your rightful Captain. "
The commodore's smile softened as the full import of this legalese slowly unraveled in Ezra's brain, [or unraveled in Ezra's slow brain. whatever.]"Now, let's go get on a shuttle; it's time to get the two of you home."
***
There had been a tense moment in the Landing bay, when Mo-Mo dive bombed the door in joy at Chi-Chi's return, and everyone began to draw weapons, and Ezra flubbed his lines a bit, being out of military practice for the three years he had been on New Brunel, but otherwise the homecoming went smoothly. Soon they were in the Captain's private Mess, sipping tea; introductions done, Commodore Stackhouse went off to stand down his fleet and arrange for docking space on one of the Freight towers at the civilian Aeroport. The QBR was too big for any other docking facility in the Capitol; he also promised to contact the others in Ezra's small group of refugees and shuttle them up when they responded.
For the Crew of the QBR, the time had come to exchange their stories.
Reply by Forlath Grey
A different office, a different desk, a different bottle of malt whiskey . . .
Captain Forlath Grey sat behind his desk in the Captain's Day Room on the QBR airship. Across from him sat the QBR's XO Ezra Yesterday and the local military authority Commodore J. Foster Stackhouse.
It had been an overwhelming couple of hours. The Captain hadn't seen XO Yesterday since the explosion on the mechanoid ship two or was it three planets ago? And now here he was, hearty and hale and claiming he had been here on this planet for the last three years.
Captain Grey did some quick mental arithmetic, by his reckoning, the QBR had arrived in the skies above Furchtenberg at the most, maybe 24 hours after Ezra Yesterday and the other survivors of his group had gone through some kind of portal in the Furchtenberg Rathaus clock tower. Since then, the QBR had spent not more than a fortnight traveling from there to its current position in the skies above New Brunel. Or did the jumps through the void take longer than the crew of the QBR realized?
It slowly dawned on Captain Grey he was being spoken to, he blinked his eyes and apologized "you'll have to forgive me, this is quite a lot to process, you were saying?"
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
Ezra Yesterday, newly resurrected XO of the Queen Bran's Revenge, grinned at his Captain's confusion and said, "Well actually, I was mumbling inane pleasantries while I tried to decide where to start."
He sat back and contemplated for a moment, then began his tale:
"Roughly three and a half years ago, from my point of view, I woke up frozen to a tree. Much to my surprise, I might add. I was certain we were all dead, yourself included."
He paused and downed his drink, then took a shaky breath and refilled it from the bottle as he continued, "As I say, I woke up after the blast that blew our shuttle apart to find myself frozen to the top of a giant Sequoia tree. Luckily for me, the safety underoos I got when I bought Slushy the ice spiderT saved my life. It would seem that I hit the tree so hard that Slushy coated me in nearly a ½ foot of solid ice. The tree got cut down by some oblivious, unintentionally helpful loggers and I eventually thawed. In the nearby town, Schtuppenburgh or some other Teutonic thing, [I don't speak German, so I have trouble with the names in this part of the story] .I met up with several QBR refugees who had survived the crash as well, among them your cousin Sean, the Padre as we call him. They were investigating a haunted house.Come to think of it, we never did get to the bottom of that; Oh! Important safety tip: never let the Padre borrow your car.
"Anyway, we soon got caught up in the complex and frankly stupid politics of that region, and Grey the Younger was kidnapped by a ridiculous Mr. Rogers wanna-be named Professor Extreme..! who, being an idiot, mistakenly thought he had grabbed you. Extreme was one of the two human poles of the power struggle in the area, the other being this truly over the top Prussian douchebag named . umm, Plushy Von Furstenberg, or something similar.
"Honestly, he wasn't any better than the Professor, just different. all slicked back hair, jackboots and `Ve have vays of makink you talk'. If it had merely been these two idiots, everything would probably have been fine, but there was another, much worse player on the board, a sort of combined intelligence named Hate. It was apparently made up of the tortured souls of nearly fifty different lab animals, all linked by computer chips in their brains; it was these creatures. or that one Hive-mind creature I guess I should say. that took over one of the Professor's Androids," Ezra raised his hand and waggled the brass fingers on his prosthetic left hand, "and did this to me."
He unconsciously rubbed the seam where flesh met brass on his forearm as he continued, "Do you remember that Warder chap you met on the Cave planet where our security man Marion died like four times? Well, his bosses are called Engineers, and they sent a little friend to help me out; that is who rebuilt my hand as you see it today. An Engineer later used my new appendage as a conduit when he helped most of us escape that world. We had taken refuge in the tallest building in town during the chaos caused by a three sided war between the two morons and the hellish creature I just described.
"We picked up a few new comrades in the course of all this. Mo-Mo and Chi-Chi, who you have met; the right side of my mustache, which is apparently a grafted on sentient being in its own right. OH!, and one pain in the ass Goblin as well."
He picked up his glass and looked surprised to find it once more empty,
"All in all, I think we were on that world for about 2 ½ or possibly 3 fast paced and stupid days before the Engineer intelligence residing in my arm here managed to gather us all up and shepherd us through an eldritch doorway in the uppermost room of the bell tower that led off the planet. And just in the nick of time, too, because the tower was collapsing around us; when the dust settled, we woke up and found ourselves on a desert planet."
Ezra paused and got up to refill his glass with ice water from the decanter on the sideboard; he was discovering that narrating a plot synopsis is thirsty work.
Reply by Forlath Grey
"Yes, that fills in quite a few of the gaps," Captain Grey interjected "we arrived in the QBR above Furchtenberg shortly after your departure. By the way it might amuse *cough*, I mean - interest you to know that Drecksler ("Plushy"), met a rather nasty end. We never did find Professor *spit* Extreme though . . . so the Padre, is he well? Were there any other survivors?"
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
Ezra brought the pitcher of water with him and sat back down at the table.
"Well," he said, "yes, Parson Grey is well and here on New Brunel, as it happens. As for our crew, counting the two of us, only two others survived the initial blast, and one, the Chief Engineer, died in.. Furchtenberg did you say?... Spontaneous combustion, of all things; after surviving everything else on this trip, she just blew up sitting next to a campfire right before we left the planet. So that just left Mara from our shuttle; however, we had also picked up several other refugees in the Extreme side of the castle."
He paused and chuckled as a memory struck him, "Oh I forgot this bit; both the Professor and this Drecksler chap were headquartered in the same castle. It had been cut into a duplex and each was leasing one side. I mentioned that they were both morons, right?... Anyway, we had found several other people in there who helped us escape, then jumped through the portal with us. Of those, Mara, myself, Gronkit [the goblin hemorrhoid I mentioned earlier] the Padre and a quite stealthy individual named Ronin came out the other side. It seems that the Engineer, while not actively steering our fate, could send people where they wanted to go while we were in. ummm...whatever place it is where we existed between one planet and the next. The others didn't come out with us, but I am assured they were safely landed Somewhere."
It was Ezra's turn to cough, and then he said, "Speaking of that transition, we were treated to a rather bizarre and somewhat nauseating `In Flight' movie before we landed in the red sand of our destination; It showed what happened to your self-proclaimed nemesis, Professor Extreme. It seems he was fed to a pack of doomsday weapons of his own devising, [a carnivorous variety of garden pest he had devised called Snails of DoomT] by the Hate creature I mentioned. Last we saw, he was being slowly mutated after ingesting these snails in self-defense. It was truly grotesque, but I guess you could say he won that round; at least, he still had the motor skills and wits [I use the term lightly, I assure you] to climb into some sort of protective suit with a gold dome for a head before the larger Snails got to him."
[Here Ezra paused to drink more water. so the writer could collect his thoughts before pushing on to recount the desert planet side of events from Book IV.]
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
Ezra continued his story:
"So where was I? Oh yes; we had jumped through a truly frightening portal in order to survive the collapse of the clock tower, which was being blasted apart around us by Drecksler's giant war machines. [I'm so glad he met his fate, by the way. I wonder if that makes me a bad person?. Nope, never mind; I just realized I don't care.] When we woke up, we were sitting in the middle of a huge desert of red sand in the middle of a dust storm. We had just decided to hunker down and wait it out when we were chased by a stampeding herd of giant lizards, sort of like elephant sized 6 legged Buffalo with mange. Don't get me wrong, though. they were really Ugly, too. We ran for our lives and ended up in the bottom of a gorge, somehow still alive after a long plunge. Well, no sooner had we caught our breath than we were swept up in a mighty flood of some kind of magical water that we could breathe. Apparently the ecology of this place has been heavily modified over the millennia, and that water is how the otherwise dead planet maintains an atmosphere. Anyway, the flood dumped us at the feet of a local. Rancher is the best name for what he does, I guess. His name is Estin, and strange as we must have looked to him, he saved our lives with no questions asked."
"The planet also has a solar cycle where both of its suns line up once a year, which has the effect of incinerating the entire surface of the planet, melting the sand and turning it into one solid planetary sized sheet of glass. As I said, a lot of thought went into the making of this world, so there are places to weather the fire, huge caves where they move their houses and wait out the destruction. Estin took us to one such place, where the natives all took to us like favored cousins."
Here Ezra gave a derisive snort, ran a finger along the huge pistol on his right hip and added, "Well, all but one, an egotistical little snot named Arno, who fancies himself a gunfighter. You see, Estin's race, [which is in a dialect it is nearly impossible to pronounce for humans because we don't have a cleft in the tip of our tongues, so I'm not even going to try]. Their race, like all the other species on their planet, has six limbs; in their case, two legs and four arms. They are also very tall, over 8 ½' is the average for the males. Well poor Arno is just under 7' tall, which makes him a lizard with something to prove. I managed to offend the wee bugger [I know, it shocked me, too!] and next thing I know, I'm facing off in a pistol duel against him in the town square. at High Moon, no less. Sorry; desert planet = nocturnal culture.. forgot to mention that. Lucky for me, all those hours playing Area 51 in the local arcade before the Rising of the Bread served me well."
"Well, funny story: These duels are all fought with wax bullets filled with nan'gurtha sap, sort of a bright red, Novocain paint ball. a fact Estin neglected to mention, since the very thought of firing a real bullet at another intelligent creature simply doesn't compute for these people. I swear, they are the best folk I have ever met, on Earth or since. even Arno, the silly little turd. I visit as often as I can, and he finds a reason to challenge me every Suncrash. I now own this spiffy Gunfighter outfit thanks to his stubbornness; I guess you could call them forfeits to his continued slow reflexes. Heh."
He paused with a fond smile on his face, then shook himself and said, "Well, that just about finishes the wandering portion of my story. With the help of the Warder, who put a bug in Gronkit's ear about an old portal deep in the Caves, we found our way here, where we have lived for over three years. Well, all of us except for Therese. sorry, I mean Mara; like the others from the first teleport, she didn't land with us when we came through the gateway. The Engineer consciousness here in my robotic wrist assures me she is safe. [Yes, I am aware how mad that sounds. Before you judge me, bear in mind we are in a steam powered airship that we used to escape a carnivorous bread menace on our home world.] I have lots to say about New Brunel, but before I do, why don't you take a turn and catch me up with events here on the QBR?"
Reply by Forlath Grey
The Captain looked up from his doodles, "beg pardon?"
"Oh right, um well, let's see, Professor Mandrake turned out to be a homicidal maniac, he was baking a new hive queen and nearly killed me in the process. Not to mention he ruined my 10 gauge cane. We have a bad infestation of Elves and crew members have been disappearing under mysterious circumstances. As a matter of fact at this very moment all non-essential crew are confined to quarters until we get to the bottom of it. So yes, pretty much business as usual."
"Pardon me Commodore, I'd like to thank you again for allowing us to dock. Perhaps we could come to a mutually beneficial agreement vis-a-vis a longer term berthing in New Brunel for the QBR . . . perhaps?"
Reply by Forlath Grey
"Oh, and did I mention the boffins down in Engineering built a new Chief Engineer out of superfluous appliances? No? Well, you would have found out soon enough . . ."
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
Rugan Camizo was starving.
In his heart, he knew he was merely hungry, as a continued side effect of his recent battle with the Asylum spy in Hell's Bakery, the bakery hidden in the depths of the QBR. While the battle had been horrific, at least it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Luckily for everyone involved, it was a confirmed fact that Rordon Gamsay had died on Earth before the QBR had launched. His Metabolism was simply in overdrive as a result of an Elven healing potion; He had eaten a huge second breakfast a scant three hours ago, so he was far from undernourished. Regardless of the physical realities, he felt he was going to pass out from the hunger.
It was ironic; Elven lore said that over the course of millennia the same potion had changed their ancestors from ugly, stupid Goblins to the tall, ethereal [if sometimes bad tempered] creatures they were today. Apparently the same potion had turned Rugan into a Hobbit.
He made a mental note to check the state of his feet for new hair growth; later. after Brunch.
Rugan was currently stationed as one of the guards just inside the doorway of the Captain's Day Room, where the Captain and the visiting Commodore had been haggling. discussing docking rights for the past hour. The major sticking point was the sheer size of the Cake Eater, the only aeroport tower large enough was over at the civilian port. While he trusted Captain Forlath and the XO, the Commodore wasn't comfortable berthing a heavily armed ship of any size in that close to the Capitol with so little security. It seemed there was a brewing rebellion in the offing here on New Brunel and..
Without warning, Rugan's stomach rumbled so loudly he swore he saw ripples form on the surface of the water in the decanter in front of the XO. All hopes that his embarrassment had exaggerated the severity of the noise in his head were dashed as everyone in the room stopped what they were doing and turned to look at Rugan.
There was an uncomfortable silence, then the XO spoke up, "You know, I think Flamenco here has an excellent point; it is well and truly past time for tea. Why don't we send him to the galley to see about a bit of refreshment?"
The Captain quite obviously stifled a smirk, said "Mr Camizo." and nodded in his gravest `Make it so" manner.
Rugan was out the door like a shot.
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
As he watched the embarrassed yet hungry security guard vanish from the room, Ezra mumbled to himself, "Is it just me, or does he look a lot more.man-pretty. than he used to be?" Then he sat back and said, "Well, while we wait for him to get back, I might as well continue my story. For the sake of easy reading, I'm going to present it as a flashback sequence.
"Are you all seated comfortably? Good; then I'll begin.."
****
A group of stacked boulders sat in the jungle, minding its business. just as it had done for thousands of years.
It was hard to say if they were a natural formation or really, Really old ruins. The vines, dirt and tree roots that covered them would have been a clear indication to anyone who saw them that regardless of origin, they were ancient; ancient, innocuous and untouched for generations. So it would have shocked this hypothetical observer mightily to see them suddenly glow with an otherworldly light of purest golden hue before disgorging 6 figures. Three were human sized; one was slightly shorter and stocky; one was much shorter and ugly [this one was clutching brightly colored bags of processed and fried vegetable matter in its stumpy, misshapen arms]; and one other.. Tall, green skinned and with four arms sprouting from its upper torso. This was the all that was left of the crew of the Great ship Queen Bran's Revenge, once more spit out on a new, possibly deadly planet.
****
Ezra paused in his narration as Captain Grey rolled his eyes and muttered something unintelligible from across the table.
"What?" he asked, "I'm planning on writing a book about my adventures; that's how I was planning to start the introduction. OK, OK fine! I'll stick to the basics.
****
Ezra Yesterday, airship castaway and recently victorious gunslinger, stepped through the Warder's portal and looked around.
Jungle. sure, why not, he thought, every planet has been something different, so it was only a matter of time before we landed in a jungle.
He turned to look at the rest of his party and realized they were one person short.
"Hey," he asked their guide in some alarm, "what happened to Therese?"
The Warder, as he called himself, looked around and said, " Ummm. Travel through these gates is always a bit touch and go, from a party scheduling standpoint. You see, the way they are programmed is a rather complicated and subjectively illogical process. It has as much to do with mental attitude as it does starting location and intended destination. If someone is sufficiently concentrated on something other than the route they were trying to follow."
Seeing the glazed look already forming on Ezra's face, he tried another tack, "Look I'm sure she landed somewhere safe, the system won't allow for a incompatible translation. Let's just say she landed where she really wanted to go, deep down in her mind somewhere. It's the same thing that happened to your other colleagues when you went to Estin's world. Unfortunately, her leaving the party mid-stream this way has caused a rather large detour on our part. I need to do a test." he paused, walked over and picked up a rock from the ground beside the portal they had just exited. After looking both ways, as if to make sure he wasn't being observed from the lush green canopy surrounded them, he held the rock up close to the tip of his nose. and licked it.
"Ahhh, good news!" he said, " We are on the right planet, New Brunel ,and at nearly the right time. But we are on the wrong continent."
"Nearly the right time.. Right for what? And what is New Brunel, I never heard of it?", this from the other actual QBR member, Sean "Padre" Grey.
Before the Warder could answer, Estin let out a tremendous sneeze, quickly followed by several more. His skin color got quickly worse, fading from his accustomed deep green to a greyish yellow in just a few minutes as they watched him struggle for breath between huge, repeated nasal explosions.
"Oh dear," the Warder said as the condition continued to worsen, " I'm afraid Estin here is deeply allergic to something in this jungle; Best take him back home. Now just stay here and I will be back for you momentarily."
Before the group could say more than a few quick words of support and leave-taking, the Warder grabbed hold of one of Estin's hands and touched the portal.
In a flash of golden light, they were gone.
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
Rugan Camizo sat in the empty officer's mess and looked at the devastation he had wreaked on the plates before him. There were several serving platters empty of all but the merest crumb, bowls of boiled and steamed vegetables with nothing but puddles of colored water in the bottom and a turkey that he had skeletonized in less than 2 minutes. As he debated drinking the veggie water he thought to himself in disgust, I'm not a security officer any more, I'm a sideshow freak. `Come see Rugan Camizo, the Human Piranha.'
He pushed away from the wreckage of his brunch before he actually drank the water and turned on his stool to stand and leave. The cook would have the Tea cart just about ready now; maybe he could request an extra tray of those cucumber sandwiches to eat on the way back to the Day Cabin.
The perpetually hungry crewman stopped dead in his tracks, all thoughts of food pushed to the back burner [to simmer], because the previously empty mess hall was now occupied by the floating bodies of all the previously missing crew. They were all floating just under the ceiling, frozen in different positions like some sort of macabre toy soldier collection; some as if sitting, some standing, one apparently curled up asleep.. but they were all nude. All that is save for Boson Higgs back in the corner, who was wearing a dark fuzzy body suit of some kind.
No, Rugan realized with a shudder; that isn't a body suit, it's just hair; apparently the Boson is part yeti. As he stood staring in bewilderment at this bizarre manifestation an aethereal globe of blue light about the size of Ensign McClure's yoga ball came floating down through the ceiling.
Before he could react in any way, there was a flash of the same blue light, and he found himself suddenly confronted by. well, it was just a blackboard, like the ones they used to have in school, so perhaps confronted is a bit strong.
As he looked at it, floating a non-threatening six feet away, a glowing message began to appear on the dark green surface as if written with aethereal blue chalk.
Tell me, Corporeal one.. what is a Piranha, and why do you dislike comparing yourself to one?
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
The XO's narration continues:
Ezra Yesterday, XO of the lost ship QBR and recent emigrant to the jungles of New Brunel, was running for his life. He and the remaining members of his group had stayed right by the gateway as the Warder had instructed right up until a giant lizard, something like a T-Rex with a tall conical shaped head, and glowing red eyes, had stepped into the clearing. The majestic beast had turned its head from side to side, as if sensing interlopers on its turf, and soon enough the red beams issuing from its eyes fell on the small party.
Without a sound of challenge it leaned forward and began to rush forward, its mouth open wide, the hot steam of its breath whistling out the gaping maw and corling back over its shoulder creating a swirling wake as it attempted to scoop up the interlopers as a snack. The group had milled in confusion before scattering each in a different direction. Ezra saw the beast stagger to a halt in confusion as its prey eluded it, then set off following the track of Padre Grey, but not before one of its colossal feet trod on and obliterated the gate they had all exited scant minutes before.
Great, the thought, there goes our ticket home.
He changed his course and paralleled the track he had last seen the Padre take, hoping to help any way he could. As he came to a second much larger clearing he saw a terrible site. The pointy headed creature was just behind the valiantly fleeing Padre.
[Yes, I know that sounds like a self-contradictory statement. You tell your stories how you like, and I will do the same.]
.. As Ezra cleared the canopy's edge, the great beast caught up, scooping the doomed cleric up and swallowing him with one gulp.
Ezra dropped to his knees, shaking his clenched fists at the heavens and screaming, "NOOOOOOOOO!"
This was, of course, a mistake, on several counts.
| First, because it attracted the attention of the Padre-cidal Monster, who turned ponderously and began to make its way toward the kneeling XO.
|Second, because that exact same scene has just been done at the end of the previous book during the climactic gunfight, but with the roles reversed.
|And Third because, as I already told you, Sean is fine and living in the city below, so it turned out to be both a waste of breath and a severe case of overacting.
Luckily for Ezra, the fauna of New Brunel, who had no interest in human theatrics, good or horribly over the top, stepped in to save him at just the right moment. As he struggled to gain his feet, he heard the swift *crack* of something large breaking the sound barrier and a *thud* of something solid impacting a large object.
The creature bearing down on him staggered and nearly fell over as Ezra watched in wonder. a second great creature, a near twin of the first, had appeared and was now pummeling the first with its colossal tail. As the one who had devoured the Padre staggered from yet another terrific blow, the newcomer raised its head as if to bellow a mighty challenge; what actually came out sounded more like an asthmatic teenager in the throes of puberty attempting to do a Tarzan yell. There was plenty of volume, but the tone warbled and cracked repeatedly.
In Ezra's opinion, it was hardly a battle cry worthy of such a mighty looking beast; but as he was currently being saved by the creature, he decided to not criticize, even in his head.
The `Cleric Eater' beast regained its balance and proceeded to return the tail bashing favor; soon the two beasts settled into a rhythm, Bash, stagger, return bash. As Ezra started to grow a bit bored with the monotony of the titanic battle, his vision was suddenly blocked by a brightly colored object as seen from extrene close range, a plastic bag of some sort, grasped in the talons of an ugly, disgusting, irritating beast.
"Crisp?" Gronkit asked absently as he sat down beside Ezra, staring at the brutal battle before them with a rapt gaze and a hideous look of joy, looking for all the world like a spectator at a sporting event.
" My money is on the real one,' the Goblin said as he munched his precious snack food without thought of the drool soaked bits that fell back into the bag as he talked, "no way that construct will stand up to this beating for long."
Reply by Forlath Grey
"Um," Captain Grey interjected again "I hate to interrupt the flow of your narrative but I'm already lost. Could I just get one slight clarification - 'man-pretty'?"
Reply by Forlath Grey
"On second thought, forget I asked . . . I don't think I want to know. Carry on, you were sharing snacks with a troll while dragons ate our Chaplain, please continue . . ."
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
Ezra smirked as he took another sip of water, " No, I didn't want to know what 'man pretty' means either, but it's something my fiancée and her friends say all the time."
Here the XO and the Commodore shared a knowing grin, as Ezra moved smoothly past this startling bit of news to continue, "It's a derisive term here on New Brunel, meaning overly handsome, with a strong connotation of egotistical vanity... basically overly concerned and aware of one's own attractiveness... And for the record I didn't share anything but air with the little turd, and even that makes me a bit ill.. I watched in disgust as he made a sort of spittle soup of the mess in his bag and cheered on the new creature that was pounding the tar out of the thing that scooped up the Padre."
He shook his head, as if unwilling to say what came next, "You see, Gronkit was right, the first one was some sort of steam powered contraption, shaped like the real creature but just covered with a lizard skin. It was really fake, too; like knock off, Hong Kong versions of Godzilla movies bad. I could even see the seam where it had been sewed together down the stomach. The steaming breath and whistling I had heard were just workings of the interior mechanism. In the heat of flight, and the stress of seeing the Padre "eaten" the finer details sort of slipped my mind until the little sociopath pointed it out to me.... And the ugly little brute was right about something else too.. It didn't last long against the battering of a real Dunce Lizard, which is what the things are called. After a few more tail lashings, the Mecha-Dunce started shedding pieces, then with a huge whump and a cloud of steam, it stopped moving entirely. until with one last swat from its living counterpart, it toppled over and lay still."
"The real lizard, seeing its opponent destroyed, wandered off into the canopy. I was relieved to see a hatch just under the tail pop open and the Padre climb out, shaken but otherwise unscathed. But my relief was short lived, because a group of camouflaged men walked out of the trees and pointed pistols at us. we had just been captured by Monarchist rebels."
Reply by Forlath Grey
"Apologies, doing it again I know, but did you say fiancé? Just out of curiosity, two arms or four?"
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
"Careful, old chum... Sir. You are on the edge of a diplomatic incident here; the woman I am to marry is Andrea Stackhouse, the Commodore's youngest sister. He's... a bit protective of her, I can assure you; but that bit is later in my tale.'
Reply by Forlath Grey
"Ah, indeed? No offense intended." Captain Grey assured his guests "Two arms then, I'm sure that's certainly a relief to the seamstress tasked with making the wedding gown, wot?"
Reply by Forlath Grey
When Forlath's attempt at witticism failed to illicit the appropriate response, he quickly switched gears "Gentlemen, storytelling is thirsty work, might I tempt you with a top up?"
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
Rugan Camizo stared at the Psychic Chalkboard.
At least he assumed it was Psychic, as it had just asked him about something he hadn't said aloud, a random thought about piranhas after eating a turkey so fast that he had.
The chalkboard cleared then spelled out,
Yes, it is clear now. You feel freakish due to the metabolic imbalance caused by a recent battle. Your body is lacking in an essential enzyme
Here a complex and somehow three dimensional drawing appeared, something he vaguely recognized from chemistry class as a molecular diagram.
What your body needs is not more volume of nutrition, but a specific source of your need,
the diagram appeared again, to be replaced by:
It can be found in abundance on this conveyance in this vegetal item designed for consumption.
accompanied by a finely detailed, photo realistic depiction of a package of tofu.
Great, Rugan thought, I'm being given medical advice by a magic chalkboard. and I Hate tofu.
The chalkboard cleared for several seconds, then flashed a new message.
Discussion of illogical dietary choices complete.
We are returning your fellow corporeal beings, taken accidentally when we were searching for one of our criminals, Coporeal Vocal Designation Ysbryd, who had been accidentally transported from the dimension where we left her by the corporeals in residence to this rather unique conveyance. Several attempts were made to retrieve Coporeal Vocal Designation Ysbryd before success was achieved. Your corporeal fellows have not been harmed, and are in stasis that has lasted since their departure from this realm.
"Wait, you mean to tell me you have been taking our crew for the past several days.. looking for Ysbryd? She has translucent skin, how could you confuse her for any of us.. especially Higgs the Wooly(tm) over there? And speaking of Higgs, why are all my returning crewmates . naked?"
The Chalkboard paused again, digesting his meaning, then replied.
As for the state of your fellow Coporeals dress, we did not understand the primitive tribal taboo you seem to have regarding your fleshy outer covering, and as such did not transport them back when we returned them. We assumed that you would be happy to have your fellow beings back safe. As for the accidental retrievals while searching for Coporeal Vocal Designation Ysbryd .
All you Coporeals look alike.
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
Ezra picks up the thread of his story:
Ezra gazed out the tiny barred window high in the wall of his cell at the torch lit interior courtyard of a rough log fort compound. He winced in pain as he turned his head to look toward the gate, just at the very edge of his vision to the left.
Yep, he thought, it's the same view as it was five minutes ago.
His captors had been none too happy with him and the Padre for leading their mechanical lizard to its doom, a fact that they explained in some primitive form of Morse code on their captive's manacled bodies. [Gronkit had disappeared into the underbrush like a flash, and no amount of searching had turned him up]. Once they were able to walk again, the entire trip from the wreckage to the stockade had been an interrogation:
Why had they sabotaged the Lizard?
Why were they here, a hundred miles into the Vasty Jungle?
Who were they spying for?
What was the ugly creature that had escaped, some form of mutated dog?
What the hell kind of clothing was Ezra wearing and where did he get the huge pistols?
If they weren't spies, why were they armed, and so close to the compound?
There were more, but those were the ones most oft repeated. The truth had, of course, been too ludicrous to be believed, but Ezra had nothing else to work with. These people believed in the existence of dimensional gateways, but they were all hundreds of miles away, at "The Capitol", in something called a "Promenade of Worlds". Their inquisitors refused to believe that they didn't know what that meant, or who the "Regent" was.
Nor did they believe that they had no clue what a `Monarchist' was; after all the only reason to be here was to join the movement, or to spy on it. But, since the captives had nothing better to say, they had been thrown into a barn that had been converted into a makeshift brig. There was a trio of stalls that had been walled in and now served as a row of cells along one wall; Ezra and the Padre were separated from each other, locked in the outer two cells and told not to attempt to communicate with each other. This command was punctuated with a rifle butt to the solar plexus, before Ezra could even formulate a smartarse reply.
Deciding there was nothing more to gain by staring at the same 12 foot rectangle of courtyard, he climbed off the stool and gingerly lay down on the rough cot, attempting to get what rest he could. He tossed and turned for several minutes, attempting to accommodate his various bruises and injuries; just as he was as comfortable as he was going to get, there was a light tapping from the wall to the center cell followed by a cultured contralto voice with a British accent whispering through a small crack between the timbers.
A voice that that whispered, "Are you here to rescue me? If so, I must say you are doing a bloody poor job of it."
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
Ezra's story was interrupted as Rugan returned, pushing an overladen tea trolley. As the occupants of the Day Cabin rose to dig in, the Security man stood back stiffly, catching Captain Grey's eye.
"Captain," he said, "I have some good news and. not quite bad news. I just discovered all the missing crew, they were abducted by a rather rude race of ghostly beings who were merely attempting to retrieve their missing fellow, Ysbryd."
He paused to let this sink in, then continued, "The returned crew are all revived and clothed now." this earned arched eyebrows from everyone, which he acknowledged with an `It's a long story" shrug before continuing, "I told them to return to their quarters pending your further instructions."
He gave a sheepish grin and said, "As for the Alien, it will be leaving shortly, but is currently in the Officers mess, writing "I will not be a bigoted superbeing" on itself one billion times, per my instructions. I hope I didn't overstep my authority, or break any "First Contact" protocols, sir, but their arrogant attitude pissed me off."
This was absorbed in stunned silence for several seconds before Ezra spoke up, "Wow! I hesitate to ask, but what's the bad. Pardon; what's the `not quite bad' news?"
"The Alien told me how to cure my hunger issues," Rugan replied with a moderately nauseated face, "but I had to eat. Tofu."
Reply by Forlath Grey
Captain Grey eyed Rugan for a moment through furrowed brows, and said "have the returned crew report to sickbay for a routine checkup, afterwards give them the rest of the day off . . . and then inform the paymaster to deduct the cost of any lost uniforms from their wages."
As Rugan saluted sharply and turned to leave, the Captain called after him "and be sure to steer the Alien through the QBR gift shop before he leaves, tell him there's a 20% off special, today only, on airship fridge magnets!"
Captain Grey returned his attention back to his guests and chuckled, "a Captain's work is never done, wot? Can I offer you some tobacco leaf? No? Just as well, I don't actually indulge myself, but I do find pretending that I do seems to alleviate stress. Pray continue with your story, Ezra" finished the Captain as he took an empty pipe from a jacket pocket . . .
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
Ezra Yesterday stifled a curse as he sat up too swiftly in response to the unexpected, disembodied criticism.
"Wha..?" A swift shushing sound from the wall interrupted him before he finished his first angry, pain fueled word.
"Do you really want to attract the guard's attention so soon?" the voice asked, "They told you not to talk. so whisper. And answer my question. Did my brother send you to rescue me? Because if so, you can go right back and tell him I said I was going to handle this, and so help me if he thinks he can." The voice was slowly rising as anger began to take hold of his unseen companion.
"Hey!" He whispered urgently, " Like you said, keep your voice down. If it helps at all I don't even know who you are, so how could I possibly be sent by your brother, whoever He is? And what do you think I'm going to do exactly? Oh, wait! I know, I can say" His voice took on a slightly higher tone as he continued, "Hey, Warden Bill, mind if I slip out for a few and tell the rude lady's brother that she won't be needing that Rescue he was planning?'," then his voice went deeper for the reply, " Sure, go ahead. after all we still have your friend, I'm sure you won't escape or anything."
There was a stark silence from the wall for several heartbeats, followed by a disdainful sniff and a decided chill in her tone as she replied, "Very droll. cretin. Tell me, which hand was the warden and which was you? I assume you were acting it out like a child's puppet show."
Ezra shot a guilty look toward the wall as he hastily put his hands down, " .Umm, No, because.. That would be stupid." He rushed on, in case there was a peephole he couldn't see. "Look, lady, I don't mean to be rude; I'm tired. I'm sore; I am being harangued through a barn wall by someone I don't even know, and I'm missing out on some prime `curl up and pretend you don't have to be up early for more torture' sleep. Could we maybe start again.. if for no other reason than in the interest of this conversation being over? My name is Ezra Yesterday, I just landed on this planet 4 hours ago. [Not just in the jungle, mind... On. The. Entire. Planet.] I have been chased by a mechanical lizard, captured at gunpoint, abandoned by my personal nutritionist Smeagol, beaten, marched across half the Amazon, beaten some more and thrown into this cell.. Oh and I have no hopes of leaving the way I came because the gateway was stomped flat by that selfsame steam powered taxidermist's nightmare. Excuse me if my sock puppets don't amuse you!"
His voice had risen in its turn; there was a tremendous thud as someone kicked the outer wall and yelled, "Shaddup! I said no talking!!"
Ezra hunched down, instinctively ducking, but the doors were not thrown open to admit punishment.
When no reply was forthcoming from his neighbor after several minutes, he prompted, "Might I ask, who are you exactly, that teams would be dispatched to rescue you against your will?"
There was another long pause, so long that Ezra thought the owner of the voice had gone.
I guess I really need to work on my sarcastic manner, he mused, It took me much longer to get rid of her than I'm used too; I must be getting rusty.
Then, just as he went to lay back again, there came a soft, sad reply, "My name is Andrea Stackhouse," she sniffled, then continued, " Forgive, me Mr. Yesterday; you've just crushed any hopes I had of going home.. my real home. A place called London, on Old Earth."
Reply by Forlath Grey
"Ah, yes, enter the love interest. Gripping stuff," observed Captain Grey "but what's this about Monarchist Rebels? Sounds like a nasty business, that." The Captain visually punctuated his sentence in the air with the stem of his unlit pipe.
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
Commodore J Foster Stackhouse, James to his friends, spoke up, " If you don't mind Ezra, I'll answer that. Best let History be told by those that lived it, wot? You see, Captain Grey, Ezra and I have had plenty of time to compare notes, and it appears that you come from a different time as well as a different world. The planet you are currently above is called New Brunel, named for Isambard Kingdom Brunel, the great engineer, because he is the one who discovered the gateway, [quite by accident, I assure you] that leads here, back in Earth year 1847. Based on the conversations we have had, however, Ezra has concluded that we are not from you own past; mainly because the British Empire was much stronger and more vital in my world than in your history. We can explore that later; for now the salient point is that the gateway suddenly closed for some reason still unknown to us 21 years ago. in Earth Year 1894, that was. and has yet to re-open."
He smiled nostalgically and said, "I was born on Earth, as was my sister, I was just turned 21 and in the Colonial Guard, and she had come through to visit with my parents on holiday; when the time was up, she begged our parents to let her stay an extra week, manipulating as only a 12 year old girl can, and they agreed, since my wife adores her and promised to bring her back at the end of the extra, stolen time. Neither of us have seen our parents since, and deep down I think she blames herself. That is why she was out in that jungle where she and Ezra first met; following some trail to what she hoped would be a gateway home."
Were was I. Oh! In my history, the North American Colonies had a much stronger tie with France and as such won Independence more quickly than in yours. The succeeding monarchs have made it point of honor to not lose a single colonial possession since that blunder. As such, when Queen Victoria colonized this planet, she made sure there was a strong `Colonial Guard' garrison established before anything else. This guard, along with a hastily formed Parliament of city mayors form around the planet, held the colony under martial law for six harrowing months; at last Brunel, who everyone turned to as a natural leader, stood up and publically declared on the side of the unreachable Queen, and demanded that a real government, a Regency, be installed to hold this world for Queen and Empire."
Stackhouse paused to take a drink, then continued, "This was done, and things have run fairly smoothly ever since. But about 4 ½ or 5 years ago, an ugly undercurrent began to swell, mostly on the college campuses but quickly spreading to the general population. These malcontents are what we call Monarchists, and they feel that the Colonial Constitution should be set aside, and a full-fledged Monarchy installed in its place. Luckily for us it seems to have been a passing fad, even the colleges are almost back to normal now.. but three years ago, they were still hot headed and active.There you go, old boy," he said with a grin directed at Ezra, "Historical exposition accomplished. back to the adventures of Ezra."
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
Ezra nodded to his friend, turned back to the Captain and said, "Yes, for the next several minutes Andrea explained the situation to me in nearly the same manner; however she was more detailed about the gate she was looking for and why. It seems there is an organization here on New Brunel called the Colonial Geographic Society, a sort of loose knit Guild of explorers and researchers that was founded a decade or so before the Gate closed.
"A relatively new sub group in the Society, called the Aetheric League of Gentlemen, is attempting to find a gateway, or series of gateways that lead back to Earth. Andrea was working with some of the members of this group at an excavation near the Capitol when she found an engraved crystal plaque that she believes is a map of the gates that exist on this world. She had followed the map for years, and discovered several interesting new worlds, but not one that led to Earth and her home. She was devastated when I described the gate destruction because it was the last one on her `map'; the one she had placed all her final hopes upon, but she had been captured by the Monarchists before she got to explore it.
"And now it was gone, forever."
Reply by Forlath Grey
"So first you crush an incarcerated young lady's hopes, then when she figures she has nothing left to lose, you ask her to marry you?" Captain Grey inquired of XO Ezra Yesterday "You, my boy, are cleverer than I gave you credit for . . ."
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
Ezra gazed at his Captain with a gimlet eye for a few seconds before continuing his story without rejoinder:
After she had regained her composure somewhat Andrea had passed whispered messages between Ezra and the Padre for over half an hour before they all agreed that they were wasting her breath.The three of them were well and truly caught, and nothing they did was going to change that fact tonight.
It was mutually decided that the best course currently available to them was to get some rest; they agreed to reconvene early in the morning to see if anything new suggested itself in the light of day. Ezra was privately certain he would get no rest at all, since he couldn't help brooding on the fact that morning also meant renewed `questioning' at the hands of his inept yet enthusiastic captors.
Nope, he thought, No way I get any sleep with That hanging over my head.
Needless to say, it came as a complete shock to him when he was awakened some indeterminate time later by a barn shaking detonation, followed by a shockwave that tossed him from his bunk onto the hard dirt floor.
Next came the sound of gunfire and confused shouts from the far side of their makeshift prison, a pitched battle that slowly moved off into the distance.
Great, Ezra thought bitterly, if that was a rescue, its going the wrong way.
There was a dull thud on the roof, followed by splintering wood and then the sickening crunch of someone being hit with a heavy metallic object just on the other side of the cell door.
Then silence that stretched for several seconds before he heard the door to the center cell swing open; there followed a happy cry from Andrea, something that sounded like, "Mr Clanks!"
Then her voice abruptly changed as she asked her apparent rescuer accusingly, "Did James send you to rescue me? What am I saying, of course he did. Well can go right back and tell him I said I was going to handle this, and so help me if he thinks he can just barge in here guns blazing and."
An odd, electronic voice responded in a calm manner that Ezra privately felt was entirely out of place, "Pardon my interruption, Miss Andrea, but Mr James said you would react this way. He is currently fighting a decoy action so that I may come and release you. He has authorized me to use" here there was a whirring noise followed by the snap of an electric discharge that also flashed bright blue light through the cracks in the wall, " whatever force required to assure you avail yourself of the opportunity to make a quick egress from captivity. He also sent a message, 'Shut up and escape Andi, you can yell at me later.'"
"Harrumph," Andrea responded, with what actually sounded like good humor, "I just bet he did, too, the blighter. Very well, you win; I will acquiesce to your unwanted rescue demand on one condition. release the other two prisoners as well."
There was a moment of quiet interrupted by minor ticking, whirring and a loud clank, then the mechanical voice said, "As Miss Andrea wishes."
A moment later Ezra heard the wood of his door crack and splinter away, then light came flooding in as the door was flung across the wide open space outside the cell.
Outside stood a creature straight out of a 50's comic book; short, powerful bipedal limbs connected to a sturdy round torso with heavy steel plates that covered the chest and all angled up to surround the base of a squat, dome shaped head with one huge, glowing laser sight in the middle of its head.
The arms were festooned with various instruments of war, ghastly bladed weapons, an arm mounded tazer, and one shoulder sported what looked to be a bazooka. It was one of the more startling and intimidating things Ezra had seen.well, in in over a week at least.
[Just to give that last statement some weight, you should remember that he had been running for his life from a giant mechanical lizard a mere 8 hours ago.]
As he stood, gaping like a new caught fish at the monstrosity looming before him, he heard Andrea say, "Ezra Yesterday, allow me to introduce my neice and nephew's tutor. Mr Clanks."
Reply by Forlath Grey
Captain Grey stood up and walked over to the drinks cabinet and mixed himself a gin and soda with a spot of lime "anyone else fancy a gimlet? No?" Forlath returned to his desk and took a seat "Sounds like this Mr. Clanks chap should compare notes with our Chief Engineer. He might be somewhat lighter in the armaments department than your Mr. Clanks, but he sure makes a mean espresso . . ."
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
Ezra Yesterday looked at the fascinating creature in front of him; he had never seen a robot this close before.
Well strictly speaking, he thought, that isn't entirely correct.
But to be fair, he hadn't seen one that wasn't both:
|Actively trying to kill him and
|Wearing the face of a thrice dead crew member.
[Ezra had a sudden and unaccountable urge to look up the Welsh translation for the phrase `Bad Penny.]
Now that it was turned so most of the weapons were pointed elsewhere, he could appreciate the sheer engineering skill that had gone into its construction; as he looked in awe at the mechanical marvel, a voice caught his attention, "Oh, Clanks, do be a dear and put on your company face."
Mr Clanks paused amid low mechanical noises, then replied, "My current weapons configuration,*click* code Load for Bear, *buzz* precludes full stealth mode operation, but I can revert to a somewhat more anthropomorphic configuration."
So saying, the robot began to elongate as the legs and arms extended nearly a foot; the armor plates in the upper chest region retracted and the dome head extended upward, becoming a tall, bullet shaped head with a face painted on one side. The laser targeting eye retracted and the internal lighting extinguished, leaving a clear glass monocle in place of one eye. Ezra was especially taken by the dapper handlebar mustache that had been painted over the thin rectangular speaker grill.
But as Ezra turned to say something to the former occupant of the middle cell, the door to the third cell burst open and the Padre was walked out bound and gagged and with a huge pistol held to his head. One of the Monarchists, probably the leader, since he had been the most inquisitive on the long trek to camp the previous day, followed the pistol out into the light and said,
"OK, if that metal monster makes one move, I'll blow this spying scum's skull apart."
Reply by Forlath Grey
"Now, now, XO, that's not fair. Maybe not as advanced, but we saw robots aplenty during that wretched affair with the Mechanoids a couple of planets back, and you're quite right about Cryscoch. Poor old blighter . . ." at that the Captain paused in a brief moment of silence for Private Marion Cryscoch, one of the most unfortunate souls to ever faint at the first hint of trouble .
. .
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
"Well, yes.. I suppose you're right. That first confrontation with the Marion-Bot was the only one that is clear in my mind, because there was a short, if macabre, conversation before the attempted killing commenced. After that, it is all a blur of robotic assassins and torture bots. Honestly I've been trying to block that entire episode for years now, mainly because I believed the Cake Eater destroyed when the Mechanoid mother ship blew up with our shuttle still inside. The very miracle of our own last second rescue convinced me there was no one else left. After all, if anyone else had survived, wouldn't they have landed in the snow of Schtuppen Heim with us? I of course never voiced that bleak opinion aloud... Stiff upper lip and all that rot. Besides, I accidentally heard your Cousin Sean singing once while trying to rescue him from Professor Extreme's Prison... curled the hairs on my toes, that did; I thought he was being tortured... I'm sure I couldn't have taken a genuine emotional outburst from him."
Reply by Forlath Grey
"Fair points one and all. Cheers."
Reply by Forlath Grey
Realizing that he was the only one standing with his drink held in the air, Forlath apologized for the interruption and sat back down.
"By the way, am I the only who's noticed that for a group of people who supposedly started their adventures in Altoona, Iowa, we have an unusual penchant for faux 19th century British colloquialisms? No? Never mind, not important, please continue your story . . ."
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
"Well, to be fair" Ezra responded, " I was a mummy for awhile, so it's a good job I don't speak... ummmmm, Pharo-ish. Wot."
Reply by Forlath Grey
"Ah yes, of course, the whole mummy thing, forgot about that . . . actually, come to think of it, I might potentially be the only one left from the original Altoona raiding party . . . guess that's why I'm the captain - seniority. That and I'm the only one that fits the uniform . . . Anyway, enough of that, tell us what happened with the Padre, the suspense is killing me!"
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
A tense silence followed the Monarchist's outburst that seemed to stretch out forever, until:
"Mr. Clanks,' Andrea Stackhouse said in a calm voice without moving her eyes from the Monarchist leader, "Emergency stand down order. Do not attempt to interfere."
With a rattle and the sound of a winding down turbine, the construct slowly shrunk, the head retracting arms and legs both slowly shortening until the robot was once more a squat nearly round ball, but with uselessly dangling weapons and arms. Ezra was fooled for a second, until he remembered that this was the mechanical `tutor's' battle configuration; he sidled a few steps toward a wall full of farm equipment but was stopped in place by a bellowed command to "Stand Still!" from the Monarchist.
Ezra obeyed, then glanced in Andrea's direction to gauge their distance in preparation for. well he didn't really have a plan but he was working on one; that is, right up until the moment he looked in her direction and saw her in the light for the first time.
The woman had explained earlier that she had been in captivity for nearly a week, and it appeared she had been wearing the same traveling outfit that entire time; the lowest foot or so of the skirt were splashed with mud, it had several small holes that appeared to have been torn by brambles and it was just travel stained over all. Her face was reasonably clean, but had enough dust on it to show the tracks of tears from her previous upset over the gateway's destruction; there was also a bruise that covered most of the left side of her face, roughly the size and shape of a large man's palm. Her long dark brown/red hair [hard to tell the actual color in the gloom of the barn] was pulled back into a ponytail, in an attempt to cover the sheer number of tangles that neglect had wrought.
In short, Andrea Stackhouse was a bedraggled, filthy hot mess. and her beauty shone through it all so strongly that it stole Ezra's breath away.
He stood flat footed and simply stared like a pole-axed steer until she sensed his attention and turning, caught his eye. They stood, eyes locked for several eternal seconds before she unconsciously pushed a strand of hair back over her ear and shook her head in mild bemusement before turning away and addressing the Padre's captor.
Ezra's mind finally kicked back into gear when Andrea spoke, "Now Charles. it is Charles, yes? You must realize this isn't going to work; you see, this rescue isn't aimed at these gentlemen, it's for me. I'm afraid that when I told you my name, I lied. My real last name is Stackhouse, not Stanley. and my brother is a Commodore in the Regency Guard. Your camp is being overrun by Guard marines as we speak, and as you know, Marines do not negotiate with terrorists." She paused and smirked openly,her tone sarcastic, "The Terrorist in this scenario would be you, Charlie boy, in case you aren't keeping up."
Her voice hardened now, taking on a tone of command with a dark, heated undertone that Ezra found hard to bear, "So let that man go and drop your weapon, you bastard, before one of my brother's retrieval squads gets here and fills you full of holes."
Reply by Forlath Grey
Captain Grey cleared his throat awkwardly and stretched his collar with a finger, "steady on Ezra, decorum and all that. There are lower ranks present." Forlath said with a nod in direction of the guards outside the still open door to the Day Room . . .
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
"It's not like we ran into each others arms from across the open barn, shouting 'John!'... 'Marsha!'. I simply made mention of her rather notable attractiveness. It was a surprising, if momentary, distraction from a rather tense situation... and to be truthful, I suppose I was unconsciously attempting to avoid recounting this next part..."
Reply by Forlath Grey
Captain Grey cocked an eyebrow in anticipation . . .
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
It had looked like it was going to work. It really had.
At the sound of command in Andrea's voice Chuck the Monarchist had glanced around fearfully and loosened his grip on the Padre; he was even starting to lower the gun from its position, pressed against the cleric's temple. But then, from outside the barn came a loud, commanding voice that said, "This is Commodore J. Foster Stackhouse of the Regency Guard. We have you surrounded and will be entering this structure in 30 seconds; throw down your weapons and lie down with your hands on your head; should you wish to resist this command, you should know that my men have instructions to fire upon anyone who shows the slightest resistance. standing will be considered a belligerent attitude. Is that clear?"
"Commodore, don't be too hasty, mate! You should know that I have your sister in here, along with two of your spies and that metal monster you sent after me. oh and I also have a Really Big GUN! Don't count on any help from your golem, it has been deactivated; the Gun I mentioned is cocked and ready to fire and your sister is in my sites."
Here Charlie Monarch paused, and a new light, one of madness, entered his eyes as he continued, ".. As for your spies."
And suddenly everything began to happen very fast.
The gun wielding madman shoved the Padre directly toward Ezra, but before the unwilling human missile had stumbled more than two steps in the startled XO's direction, a muffled shot rang out. Charlie had fired into the off balance cleric's back, causing him to spin crazily in his forward movement and slam into his crewmate, propelling them both into the tool rack on the wall before they both slumped down in a red soaked tangle of feed bags, limbs and farm implements.
As Ezra struggled to get out from under the dead weight that pinned him to the ground, Andrea cried out an anguished "NO!" and jumped in front of the gun wielding madman just as he fired at Ezra.
There was a moment of utter silence as Andrea staggered and turned away from her attacker; she touched the slowly spreading red stain low and to the left side on her bodice and brought her trembling hand up to her eye level. Then she smiled sadly, looked in Ezra's eyes and whispered, "I'm sorry." before slumping, insensate to the floor.
A tiny, distant part of Ezra's mind thought, [perhaps inappropriately] "Good Lord. she's even gorgeous when she passes out."
The remainder of his mind, his whole being in fact, was focused on the man who came into view as Andrea fell out of the way, the man who had just cold bloodedly shot two people in quick succession...
.The grinning madman who was pointing a huge gun at Ezra's head.
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
Ezra paused at the pale, sickened look on the Captain's face, and said " You look very concerned, Captain, I feel I need to pause here and point out that both your cousin Sean and Miss Stackhouse are alive and unharmed... I wouldn't want to upset you unduly. But the tale is nearly done, now;... where was I?"
Ezra Yesterday lay tangled with the unconscious body of his crewmate and suddenly realized several vitally important facts.
First: The gun Mad Chuck was waving around was one of Ezra's dueling pistols. his Non-Lethal dueling pistols.
Second: While Ezra's right arm was already tingling and unresponsive from the effects of the Numb SapT load that had hit the Padre and been smeared all over Ezra in their collision, his mechanical left arm was free and working just fine, thank you very much.
Third: He realized that he had been hearing a muted voice, coming from Mr Clanks. a voice that was counting downward , and had reached 5...4.3.
Fourth: He was filled with a growing anger, what swiftly became an incredible pressure of sheer rage the likes of which he had not felt in some time... Not since he last had two real hands, in fact. He had been tortured by this man, beaten for knowledge he couldn't possibly have, and apparently he had treated his female prisoner in a similar manner. Now he was about to shoot Ezra with his own gun, just like his friends before him. It didn't really matter that the gun was non-lethal; once the sap kicked in, Chuck could find a real gun, a knife, or a hammer and finish the job.
[Hell, Ezra though as a red haze descended over his vision, if he's feeling lazy he could just flip us over into a puddle and watch us drown.]
And Finally: While Ezra had been filling with this all-encompassing fury Charlie had walked closer and now stood close on the trapped XO's left side, an evil, taunting grin on his face as he slowly lined up the pistol for a coup de gras. exactly where Ezra suddenly realized he needed to be.
After a long two seconds, the muttering robot in the corner reached zero and without moving said in a loud voice "Ready or not, Here They Come."
As mad Chuck looked up at the supposedly decommissioned robot in surprise and dawning fear, Ezra lifted his mechanical hand and slammed it down with all his might on the upturned rake close on his left side, causing the handle to seesaw upward at roughly Mach 3 and impact with.
Well..
Let's just say the other Monarchists would be calling him Charlene from now on.
As the wounded madman fell over, clutching himself and screaming in a register only dogs could hear, Ezra climbed unsteadily to his feet and retrieved his pistol; he looked down on his wounded former captor and realized all his anger of moments ago was gone. Well, mostly gone; he was just about to say something snarky when he heard the Commodore's voice say from outside, "Mr Clanks, submission protocol, GO!"
The world exploded in actinic blue light.
Then...Darkness.
Reply by Forlath Grey
". . . I assure you XO Yesterday, the 'sickened look' on my face as you described it, was nothing more than a passing case of indigestion. The cook and two of his staff were part of the recently abducted (and returned), crew complement, and we were making do in the interim with a couple of the . . ." the captain paused, held his fist, thumb first to his chest for a moment, went briefly crossed-eyed, and then continued ". . . elven crew members as kitchen stand-ins. Word to the wise XO, elves have absolutely no understanding of human cuisine, regardless of how much they insist otherwise . . ."
"But never mind that, don't stop now man, the story was just getting good!"
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
"Well," Ezra replied, "I'm afraid you need to read my last post again... it was the Narrator who said you looked sickened, old boy... umm, Sir. All I actually said out loud was that you looked concerned."
He smirked, sent a conspiratorial wink toward the audience and then continued, "As for the story, there isn't all that much more to tell really. When I came woke up on the Intolerant, James' flagship, I was a prisoner. It seems that the Numb-SapT in my pistols had caused an odd hallucinogenic reaction in Andrea. Needless to say, James was a bit upset with me at first; after all it was my hand he found still clutching the foreign gun that had poisoned his sister. You see, his ships doctor had come to the logical but completely wrong conclusion that my gun was an indoctrination tool; there was all sorts of anti-Regent propaganda spread about the place, so they understood better than I did what was going on in that compound. Given the evidence, James naturally assumed I was trying to pull a Patty Hearst with his sister."
Ezra chuckled, "James was understandably reluctant to believe the story I gave as to how I came to be here. and I didn't even tell him about the carnivorous bread. After a week of this I decided I had to prove to him I had no ill will toward him, so I used the various hidden attributes of my mechanical arm to escape in the night, retrieve my pistols and wake him in his own bed. While he blinked the sleep from his eyes, I showed him both how I had used my arm to escape and how to remove it without damaging me or himself. I also repeated the truth, that I had never seen anyone react the way Andrea had to the Numb-SapT, and reminded him again that his robot [they call them golems here, by the way] had witnessed the whole thing and I didn't shoot or mentally condition anyone.
" I also pointed out that both myself and the Padre had been affected by the same sap and had not succumbed to a `Purple Haze' coma. I then surrendered myself to him unconditionally; I was taking a huge gamble, but considering he had yet to so much as deprive me of a meal, let alone mistreat me during my interrogation, I was reasonably assured of the outcome.
"Needless to say, he was a bit upset at me for disturbing his sleep in this manner, but he at least believed I had no ill intentions. He returned my arm but kept the pistols, then escorted me up to the sick bay where they were keeping his sister."
Reply by Forlath Grey
Forlath flipped back through the last couple pages of the script "ummmm . . ."
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
As Ezra Yesterday followed Commodore Stackhouse down the hall toward sick bay, he could hear Andrea speaking loudly, "And so, Lord Regent, you must see that the only remaining course of action is to expand the search parameters so that we find a multiple gateway route back to Earth."
Ezra paused and asked the Commodore "Is she in radio communication with your Regent?", the only response was a sad shake of the head; he tried another guess, "Dictating a letter?"
Commodore Stackhouse again shook his head and replied, "No, she really thinks she's addressing the Regent. I wanted to see your reaction to what that pistol did to her. This is actually one of her more lucid phases."
The Commodore unlocked a door with the key attached to his watch fob, then led Ezra into a small darkened room with a dark gauzy cloth draped over a window in the right hand wall; apparently it was a hastily contrived observation room. Stackhouse said, "She can't see us, but keep your voice down, I just rigged this up to so the two of us could observe her alone."
Inside the room, Andrea lay in a hospital bed, cleaned up, rested and with only the barest trace of the bruise he remembered from his last brief glimpse of her; she was, without question, even more attractive than he remembered. There were various drawings and finger painted art on the wall, apparently done by a kindergartener who had been told the story of the fight in the barn. Ezra looked closer, then glanced sharply at Stackhouse, "Did she.?" The Commodore nodded solemnly, "Yes, that's her work on the wall."
Andrea, who had been muttering quietly for the last minute or so suddenly spoke up again, in voice that steadily gained enthusiasm, and volume, with each word, "Well, come to think on it, instead of going to all that trouble, we could just breed a new slug based form of life that can excrete epoxy; epoxy which we can then use to glue the broken gateways back together." here she clapped her hands together in childish delight, "Ooooh, can we do that, please? If so, we should make them pink with purple polkadots. *giggle* I mean the slugs would be pink, not the gates. Although" her voice took on a quieter, considering, nearly lucid tone as she continued, ". that would be lovely too. "
In the observation room, the commodore watched Ezra closely during her recitation, and the ensuing uncomfortable pause. At last Stackhouse nodded slowly and said, "OK, now I really believe you had no idea she would end up this way; understand, I nearly believed your story before, old boy, but now I'm certain." He clapped Ezra on the shoulder firmly then said, "I'm just as glad I was right, too, because there was another reason to bring you up here as well. She's been asking after you since she first woke up; I'll just go in and prepare her for your visit. She's a bit. excitable, so don't come in until I call you."
Ezra heard the rustling of sheets and looked up to see that the sheet was being held in trembling hands over the stricken girl's head as Commodore Stackhouse stepped through the doorway into Andrea's room; the Commodore said, "Come on now, Andi. it's just me; no need to hide."
The sheet held for another second before being whipped down with an accompanying cry of "Booga. Booga, Booga!!!" followed by peals of child-like laughter.
"Good one, Andi," Commodore Stackhouse said in a mock trembling voice that broadened the already huge grin on his sister's face, "You had me nearly jumping out of my skin. Listen, I have a surprise for you; do you remember Ezra Yesterday, the man who helped save you?"
Ezra was startled to see the beautiful woman's face crumple into a sudden look of misery, and huge silent tears began tracking down her face as she nodded solemnly. Her brother was instantly by her side, holding her hand and asking what was wrong.
Between racking sobs, Andrea managed to say, "Yes, poor Mr. Yesterday. That bad man shot him; now I can't ask him my very important question."
"No, no Andi, I told you before, he wasn't hurt in the battle, he was just put to sleep for a short time by Mr. Clanks; remember me saying that? He's not only fine, he's right outside, waiting to see you; you can ask him anything you want."
Andrea sniffled and said "Really?" in a very small voice.
"Yes, really; Ezra, could you come in here please?"
Ezra walked into the room and was stopped dead in his tracks by the smile that broke out on Andrea's face at the sight of him. For a moment he thought he had walked through another gateway and come out in the middle of Suncrash, the room brightened that much. The moment lasted what seemed to be an eternity before the Commodore broke the spell by saying, "Well, Andrea, didn't you say you had a question for Ezra?"
At this prompting Andrea Stackhouse. intrepid explorer, recently rescued hostage, mapper of lost gateways and associate member of the Colonial Geographic Society. looked down at her hands as they nervously twisted the sheet edge into a pretzel, blushed the most fetching shade of scarlet Ezra had ever seen and said in a quiet voice, "Well, yes. I was wondering if he would. Marry me."
There followed a long and unbelievably awkward silence.
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
As the pause stretched out, seeming to last for days, Ezra stood trying to think of something. Anything . to say. He desperately wanted to avoid crushing the feelings of the emotionally fragile woman in the hospital bed without simultaneously re-convincing her brother that there was some sort of dastardly [and quite possibly mind control related] plan afoot.
Several partially formed responses and their consequences filtered quickly through his mind before it surrendered and seized up completely:
|What?!? No Way!!! * Andrea bursts into tears; the Commodore draws a sword and runs Ezra through, killing him instantly*
| You want to marry ME?!? Are you crazy? *Andrea bursts into tears; the Commodore pulls a pistol and blasts Ezra in the chest, the force flinging his bleeding body through the hidden window and into the observation room wall, killing him instantly*
|.Ummmm. * Andrea bursts into tears; the Commodore breaks a beer bottle on the IV stand and stabs Ezra in the throat, killing him instantly.
|Dear lady, I would be honored.*Andrea begins to smile; the Commodore douses Ezra with petrol and lights him on fire. killing him instantly.*
|Are you kidding, baby? Yes. Absolutely YES.. and might I add. Hubba hubba!!* Andrea graces the room with another 3 megaton smile; the Commodore removes a Bazooka from a panel in the wall and fires it into Ezra's face, killing him instantly*
|I say, old thing, are you sure you are entirely competent to make major life decisions at the moment? *Andrea bursts into tears; the Commodore grabs Ezra by the scruff of the neck, shakes him several times and then frog marches him out the nearest airlock. The fall is terrifying at first, but then the panorama, with its beautiful clouds and overhead, literally birds-eye view of the patchwork farmland below him combined with the pleasant breeze of his descent actually distracts him from his fate for nearly a minute. Then he slams into the center of a corn field, simultaneously leaving a perfect Ezra shaped hole in the ground. and killing him instantly.
|Ezra stands there with his mouth working; the only sound that he manages to force out is a strangled, high pitched squeak. *Andrea bursts into tears; the Commodore straps Ezra to a bizarre torture chair set in front of a giant screen TV, immobilizing his head and wiring his eyes open, then presses play on a Madonna movie marathon, broken up by clusters of political commercials that replace the [few] interesting portions of "plot". neither killing him instantly, nor quickly enough.
The villain of these visions interrupted Ezra to ask, "Just a moment, now. Did you really imagine me doing all those horrible things, or are you just embellishing for your Captain?"
Ezra replied with a grin, "No, this is exactly how I felt at the time... Remember, I didn't know you all that well yet. If this had happened after we were better acquainted I would have known better than to expect, or even hope for, so pleasant a death as those after hurting your sister."
Commodore J. Foster Stackhouse leveled a steely gaze on the smirking storyteller and replied, with no humor whatsoever, "Too bloody right."
Ezra's face sobered instantly at his friend's tone; he gulped audibly, cleared his throat and returned to his [evidently Neverending] story.
Ezra was seriously considering stabbing himself in the eye with Andrea's JelloT spork just to break the mounting tension when the interminable interlude was shattered by the sound of a door latch disengaging. He knew a moment of real panic as a section of wall swung open revealing a small space where he had just imagined a Bazooka to be stored, but his anxiety turned to relief as a robed figure crawled into the room and began to straighten up. The Commodore stiffened in alarm, spun toward the newcomer and reached for his sword and pistol...neither of which he was actually wearing, Ezra was relieved to note.
For her part, Andrea clapped her hands in delight and crowed, "Ooooh, magic! Do it again!!"
The figure finished standing, straightened up and raised his hands, not in surrender as much as reassurance of benign intent. He spoke calmly, addressing the Commodore, "Please, be at ease Commodore Stackhouse; I'm the Warder, I believe that Ezra has spoken of me. I'm here to deliver a remedy for your sister."
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
Ezra stretched and yawned, took out his pocket watch to check the time and exclaimed, "Merciful Zeus, is that really the time? I have been talking for far too long; I'm going to rush through this last bit and then we can all get some sleep, if that is alright with you, Sir."
At the Captains nod he continued, "So. the Warder had a serum to clear Andrea's head, which he administered with a healthy dose of scolding for yours truly, mainly stressing the fact that had I but stayed at the gate, this would never have happened. My protestations of steam powered monsters and hostage situations were dismissed as rank excuses; it was pointed out that the rest of the party was right where he asked them to be when he returned, even Gronkit, the poxy little bugger. He was irritated enough that he went ahead and took the others home before he came to find me and my poor innocent victim, the Padre, who he insisted I had led astray. He did relent in his lecture to let me leave the room before Andrea woke up and remembered the "marriage proposal" she had just tendered. James here tells me she was mortified and wished to never speak of it again, which I can completely understand. Of course, her deep and abiding embarrassment has not stopped me from referring to her as my "Fiancée" every now and again. after all, what are friends for? Of course, the first time I did it, she flung a fire crystal assembly at my head; had it connected it would have killed me instantly. which, of course, would have been fair."
He paused to collect his thoughts and then continued, "I have found a place in the Colonial Geographic Society, trying to find a way back to the Earth of Victoria's Grand Empire, but so far we have had no luck. I even helped Andrea found a new offshoot of the CGS. based on her sap induced, hallucinatory conversation with her Regent. which we are calling the Ætheric Adventurers Club; it's a small group of explorers who meet four times a year in a small annex building belonging to the Ætheric League of Gentlemen and Ladies on the main CGS campus here in Victoria. The purpose of the ÆAC is to compare notes on our various gateway explorations, in order to map the vast Ætheric gate network we have here. These people really want to get home. and who could blame them? I guess you could say I have adopted their cause."
"Well," he said, "That pretty much brings you up to speed with my activities for the last three years. Now, if you don't mind I'd like permission to transport back to the surface so I can sleep in my own bed. And if I didn't say so properly before, Forlath, it is terribly good to see you again, old boy. Good night."
Reply by Forlath Grey
Captain Forlath Grey stared into his now empty glass long after his guests had departed. Many unanswered questions weighed on the Captain. Would he see the ravaged Altoonia of his distant past ever again? Where was the Warder now and what part would the QBR, its crew and the newly established ÆAC play in the Warder's machinations? But most puzzling of all - so were Ezra and Stackhouse's sister engaged or weren't they?
Chapter Two
Reply by Forlath Grey
The Padre walked the halls of the main airship station, south of the capitol city of Victoria, in the alternate realm of New Brunel. The air station and indeed, probably much of Victoria was abuzz with the news of the new arrival in the skies above. It was impossible to miss, the newly arrived airship dwarfed anything the Regency or any of the other powers on New Brunel currently floated.
While the rest of the populace pondered who the new arrivals were or what this could mean, the Padre just smiled. For he knew who currently sat overhead in negotiations with the Regency, it was the intrepid crew of the QBR airship. The Queen Bran's Revenge, also affectionately know as the Cake Eater to her crew was a dimension jumping, well armed air ship, originating from an alternate Earth many realities away. It had been many years since the Padre had stepped foot on the QBR, or indeed had seen any of the Cake Eater's crew, except of course for those few thrown together with the Padre during the course of their adventures . . . admittedly it was a long story, well told elsewhere. For now suffice it to say the Padre was headed to the docking platform where even now the first group of QBR crew with shore leave were arriving planet side to meet their hosts . . .
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
Ezra Yesterday stepped out of his townhouse on the outskirts of Victoria, New Brunel and stopped to look into the sky. Moored to the highest freight level of the aeroport several miles to the southwest he spied the huge form of the Queen Bran's Revenge, currently a black silhouette in the early morning light. He had almost convinced himself that the previous night's reunion with his old crewmates had been a dream, but there floated the proof.
He shook his head in wonder.
Well to be fair he started to shake his head, but the motion served as a sharp and painful reminder of the excessive amount of alcohol he had consumed during his "While we were apart" storytelling marathon. Details were fuzzy, but he seemed to remember a security guard wandering in at one point whining about crew members in nude stasis, a condescending energy based alien and being force fed tofu at one point.[the security guard, Camminkiss or some such, was the one eating tofu, not Ezra.]
In fact, the jumbled memories of the previous night were confusing enough that Ezra decided to simply ignore it for the moment. Looking about, he decided his first order of business was to head for the airbase; he needed to find the Padre and tell him the Cake eater was on planet and the walk would go a long way toward clearing his head.
[It should be pointed out that there was absolutely no way the younger Grey could have missed the arrival of said airship, nor would he possibly confuse it for any other in the universe, as Ezra's own observations in the first paragraph above amply proved.
Like I said, Ezra had consumed considerable quantities of drink the night before. cut him some slack.]
As he stepped out into the moderate foot traffic passing in front of his small front garden, he was suddenly slammed back into the brick of his archway by a rather large, ugly woman in a grey hooded shawl.
With a gravelly yet oddly falsetto voice the woman said, "Sorry, mister. I didn't see you there," then straightened her shawl and began to walk on.
Ezra was hung over, but he wasn't That hung over. There was something definitely wrong with the brief encounter, and it took only.. well it took nearly three seconds, but still, he figured it out eventually.
The woman was actually a man in rather poor disguise; and oddly, it was a man that Ezra knew.
A man who had tried to kill him when he first came to New Brunel three years ago:
Charles. Something. the leader of the Monarchist Jungle Camp T detailed in the flashback in Chapter I.
Sadly, three seconds was more than enough time for the fugitive to disappear into the growing morning traffic.
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
Charles Darwin Roberts hunkered down in the alley, straightened his shawl and fumed while he waited for his pursuer to pass by... if there even Was a pursuer.
He had passed that Regent's dog Yesterday in various guises over the past couple of weeks trying to initiate a chase, as per instructions from on high; so far the spy had been entirely oblivious to Charles' presence. Finally, today there had been a dim look of recognition, but it had taken initiative on Charles part in the form of a well-placed elbow to spark it. The Loyalist agent had apparently been up drinking all night, based on the smell as the two old adversaries collided; that would explain why he had yet to give chase.
He cursed his luck; it looked like today was another wasted effort. This "Ringmaster" bloke who had started calling the shots at Monarchist HQ must be missing a few bolts; the idea that they needed to lure Yesterday into a trap, in his opinion, was just plain stupid. Charles could have killed the spy at least eight times. nine counting today. The fact that he had not already done so, and orders be damned, was a testament to the sheer fear the Ringmaster inspired, for Charles Darwin Roberts was not normally one to bow to authority figures, and with good reason.
He had been a late, unwanted addition to his 'family'; his mother, a pastors wife who, [he had been told repeatedly for as long as he could remember], had strayed into another mans bed, then had died giving birth to him. His `father' had blamed the child for both the affair and the death of his wife, but due to his standing in the community he kept the child as his own. He named the child Charles Darwin Roberts, [after the "Scientific Antichrist" who had recently become infamous in church circles for his Origin of Speciesc ] in honor of the newborn's secretly hated status, and proceeded to verbally abuse and beat the child, always in private, and where it wouldn't show, for the next 13 years. Charles had snuck off to London the summer before his 14th birthday, and had been promptly arrested for pickpocketing and sentenced to six months in the Iron Sand camp here on New Brunel; he had never willingly thought of the old zealot in all the years since, his only regret that he hadn't run away sooner.
But no, this Ringmaster was much worse than the old man; best just follow his odd, disjointed and often contradictory orders as best he could, and hope that he didn't catch any unwanted attention in the meantime.
One way or another, though, he thought with anger [and a wince of remembered pain] as he gathered his skirts and trudged back to the secret lair, Ezra Yesterday would get what was coming to him.
Orders or no orders.
Reply by Maj. Bastable "Iggy" Fitzwiggins
"What a strange little planet...," Major Fitz states to no one in particular as he paces on his bridge, from starboard to port and back. He calls to mind moments from the last year and a half on and off New Brunel.
[Awakened by the most horrific set of klaxon alarms ever invented, I moved as though with heavy alcohol sickness. With the distinct feeling that my teeth were about to float away, I make a mad dash to the ship's head and nearly lose the race between..., "Christ Almighty, would someone shut that blasted alarm off already!" I shouted to apparently no one as it continues to beat a discordant tattoo upon my brain. My relief at making it to the head just in the nick and continued annoyance that no one was listening sit in high contrast to the way I'm sure things ought to be on my ship. My mumbled reprobations concerning the crew and the shape of discipline onboard propelled me to the nearest con-pad to first shut those klaxons down, then called all hands to the bridge for a serious dressing down. That accomplished, I walked to the bridge with haste and as I continued a growing sense of concern came over me. "Quiet..." I breathed with apprehension and an octave higher than I'm used to. As I reached the bridge, the berth slid open and revealed a scene out of some "Vernian scholar's" nightmare. Instead of uncharted space, I was confronted with a great expanse of lovely azure blue.]
Reply by Ezra Yesterday (June 23, 2013)
Ezra Yesterday stood in the middle of the sidewalk and shook his head in confusion.
What the blazes just happened?, he thought, I must still be more drunk than I thought; no way did I just see Chuckie Monarch in a dress.
With a rye grin... wry grin and a shrug, he dismissed the drunken sighting from his mind, turned and headed off to find the Padre.
The Padre walked the halls of the main airship station, south of the capitol city of Victoria, in the alternate realm of New Brunel. The air station and indeed, probably much of Victoria was abuzz with the news of the new arrival in the skies above. It was impossible to miss, the newly arrived airship dwarfed anything the Regency or any of the other powers on New Brunel currently floated.
While the rest of the populace pondered who the new arrivals were or what this could mean, the Padre just smiled. For he knew who currently sat overhead in negotiations with the Regency, it was the intrepid crew of the QBR airship. The Queen Bran's Revenge, also affectionately know as the Cake Eater to her crew was a dimension jumping, well armed air ship, originating from an alternate Earth many realities away. It had been many years since the Padre had stepped foot on the QBR, or indeed had seen any of the Cake Eater's crew, except of course for those few thrown together with the Padre during the course of their adventures . . . admittedly it was a long story, well told elsewhere. For now suffice it to say the Padre was headed to the docking platform where even now the first group of QBR crew with shore leave were arriving planet side to meet their hosts . . .
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
Ezra Yesterday stepped out of his townhouse on the outskirts of Victoria, New Brunel and stopped to look into the sky. Moored to the highest freight level of the aeroport several miles to the southwest he spied the huge form of the Queen Bran's Revenge, currently a black silhouette in the early morning light. He had almost convinced himself that the previous night's reunion with his old crewmates had been a dream, but there floated the proof.
He shook his head in wonder.
Well to be fair he started to shake his head, but the motion served as a sharp and painful reminder of the excessive amount of alcohol he had consumed during his "While we were apart" storytelling marathon. Details were fuzzy, but he seemed to remember a security guard wandering in at one point whining about crew members in nude stasis, a condescending energy based alien and being force fed tofu at one point.[the security guard, Camminkiss or some such, was the one eating tofu, not Ezra.]
In fact, the jumbled memories of the previous night were confusing enough that Ezra decided to simply ignore it for the moment. Looking about, he decided his first order of business was to head for the airbase; he needed to find the Padre and tell him the Cake eater was on planet and the walk would go a long way toward clearing his head.
[It should be pointed out that there was absolutely no way the younger Grey could have missed the arrival of said airship, nor would he possibly confuse it for any other in the universe, as Ezra's own observations in the first paragraph above amply proved.
Like I said, Ezra had consumed considerable quantities of drink the night before. cut him some slack.]
As he stepped out into the moderate foot traffic passing in front of his small front garden, he was suddenly slammed back into the brick of his archway by a rather large, ugly woman in a grey hooded shawl.
With a gravelly yet oddly falsetto voice the woman said, "Sorry, mister. I didn't see you there," then straightened her shawl and began to walk on.
Ezra was hung over, but he wasn't That hung over. There was something definitely wrong with the brief encounter, and it took only.. well it took nearly three seconds, but still, he figured it out eventually.
The woman was actually a man in rather poor disguise; and oddly, it was a man that Ezra knew.
A man who had tried to kill him when he first came to New Brunel three years ago:
Charles. Something. the leader of the Monarchist Jungle Camp T detailed in the flashback in Chapter I.
Sadly, three seconds was more than enough time for the fugitive to disappear into the growing morning traffic.
Reply by Ezra Yesterday
Charles Darwin Roberts hunkered down in the alley, straightened his shawl and fumed while he waited for his pursuer to pass by... if there even Was a pursuer.
He had passed that Regent's dog Yesterday in various guises over the past couple of weeks trying to initiate a chase, as per instructions from on high; so far the spy had been entirely oblivious to Charles' presence. Finally, today there had been a dim look of recognition, but it had taken initiative on Charles part in the form of a well-placed elbow to spark it. The Loyalist agent had apparently been up drinking all night, based on the smell as the two old adversaries collided; that would explain why he had yet to give chase.
He cursed his luck; it looked like today was another wasted effort. This "Ringmaster" bloke who had started calling the shots at Monarchist HQ must be missing a few bolts; the idea that they needed to lure Yesterday into a trap, in his opinion, was just plain stupid. Charles could have killed the spy at least eight times. nine counting today. The fact that he had not already done so, and orders be damned, was a testament to the sheer fear the Ringmaster inspired, for Charles Darwin Roberts was not normally one to bow to authority figures, and with good reason.
He had been a late, unwanted addition to his 'family'; his mother, a pastors wife who, [he had been told repeatedly for as long as he could remember], had strayed into another mans bed, then had died giving birth to him. His `father' had blamed the child for both the affair and the death of his wife, but due to his standing in the community he kept the child as his own. He named the child Charles Darwin Roberts, [after the "Scientific Antichrist" who had recently become infamous in church circles for his Origin of Speciesc ] in honor of the newborn's secretly hated status, and proceeded to verbally abuse and beat the child, always in private, and where it wouldn't show, for the next 13 years. Charles had snuck off to London the summer before his 14th birthday, and had been promptly arrested for pickpocketing and sentenced to six months in the Iron Sand camp here on New Brunel; he had never willingly thought of the old zealot in all the years since, his only regret that he hadn't run away sooner.
But no, this Ringmaster was much worse than the old man; best just follow his odd, disjointed and often contradictory orders as best he could, and hope that he didn't catch any unwanted attention in the meantime.
One way or another, though, he thought with anger [and a wince of remembered pain] as he gathered his skirts and trudged back to the secret lair, Ezra Yesterday would get what was coming to him.
Orders or no orders.
Reply by Maj. Bastable "Iggy" Fitzwiggins
"What a strange little planet...," Major Fitz states to no one in particular as he paces on his bridge, from starboard to port and back. He calls to mind moments from the last year and a half on and off New Brunel.
[Awakened by the most horrific set of klaxon alarms ever invented, I moved as though with heavy alcohol sickness. With the distinct feeling that my teeth were about to float away, I make a mad dash to the ship's head and nearly lose the race between..., "Christ Almighty, would someone shut that blasted alarm off already!" I shouted to apparently no one as it continues to beat a discordant tattoo upon my brain. My relief at making it to the head just in the nick and continued annoyance that no one was listening sit in high contrast to the way I'm sure things ought to be on my ship. My mumbled reprobations concerning the crew and the shape of discipline onboard propelled me to the nearest con-pad to first shut those klaxons down, then called all hands to the bridge for a serious dressing down. That accomplished, I walked to the bridge with haste and as I continued a growing sense of concern came over me. "Quiet..." I breathed with apprehension and an octave higher than I'm used to. As I reached the bridge, the berth slid open and revealed a scene out of some "Vernian scholar's" nightmare. Instead of uncharted space, I was confronted with a great expanse of lovely azure blue.]
Reply by Ezra Yesterday (June 23, 2013)
Ezra Yesterday stood in the middle of the sidewalk and shook his head in confusion.
What the blazes just happened?, he thought, I must still be more drunk than I thought; no way did I just see Chuckie Monarch in a dress.
With a rye grin... wry grin and a shrug, he dismissed the drunken sighting from his mind, turned and headed off to find the Padre.
This ends what I had of the continued RP, if more was added later, I do not know.
(For the record, the endings for Therese and Ysbryd were not written by me, nor was I consulted.
I do not know why, when explanations for the other participants that left were never addressed. *shrugs*
I do, however, have my own endings which I will add under a separate subheading.
Don't worry, they are pretty brief.)