After a drive of perhaps two hours she heard the gentle tick-tock of the indicator and then felt the van take a gentle corner and slow to a stop. A guiding hand on her elbow got her to her feet and helped her negotiate her way out of the van's side door without breaking her neck.
"So, where are we now?" There was resignation in her voice now. Ellie was beyond fear and apprehension. She was too tired even to be irritated. Clearly she had no control over any of the things that were happening to her, so she reasoned that she might as well go with the flow for a bit.
"Oh, just you wait - you're going to absolutely love this!" Her mysterious companion (captor? saviour?) replied in a voice that dripped with enthusiasm. "Hang on, I need to take the blindfold off, but you're eyes probably aren't ready to see unprotected yet. Just close them for a second...."
Ellie did as she was asked, and felt the bandages unwind from around her face, then felt something like a pair of glasses slip onto her nose and ears.
"These glasses will give you a bit of protection 'till your eyes fully heal, hang on, OK - open them and take a look!"
Ellie cautiously opened her eyes and gasped. She stared slack-jawed at the spectacle before her, almost unable to grasp the immensity of it.
Viscount Tristian took her arm again, his grin full of dazzling whiteness and his eyes twinkling with joy. "Come on - let me show you around!"
Still unable to fully grasp what she was looking at Ellie allowed herself to be led away gaping.
-oOo-
George Mainwaring smiled to himself. The faint florescent green line leading him through the trackless forest was growing stronger, indicating that he was getting close to a portal. He still didn't know where he was, or where The Traitor had gone, but he was confident that he'd be able to track him from the portal.
Mainwaring pushed the pince nez higher up his nose and trudged on, humming a jaunty tune.
-oOo-
Ellie's jaw was still pretty much on the ground but she was beginning to pull herself together. "Where are we?" she demanded, "And what the hell is that?!"
Viscount Tristian was still grinning. "We're just outside Doncaster at the Finningley Air Station, and that beauty," he motioned to the massive dirigible floating just above their heads "is the good ship Fuga Libero. She's one of our mobile operations bases and you're seriously privileged to see her so close to the ground."
Ellie stood very still and tried to take in what she was seeing. The Fuga Libero was huge. Easily a mile long she was like a cylindrical black sky scraper hovering a few feet from the ground. Ellie and Tristian stood at the front end, which tapered to a blunt point which appeared to be glazed with black glass. A series of stubbly winglets protruded all the way along her length, each one holding what appeared to be a jet engine. Far away, nearly at the other end of the tarmac runway she could see that the back of the craft was similar to the front, but sported four large black fins, each one adorned with the image of a massive silver skull surrounded by a cog wheel.
"I'm sorry? This is Doncaster?! Doncaster South Yorkshire? The post industrial wasteland Doncaster?" Ellie's voice was incredulous - she was a Sheffield girl and so had firm opinions on nearby Doncaster. The rivalry between the city of Sheffield and the historic market town was long standing and deeply entrenched. "How the hell is something like this", she motioned at the ink black behometh floating just above her head, "landing in Doncaster without people noticing?"
The Viscount laughed again and walked backwards towards the massive craft spreading his arms wide. "I said we're at the Finningly Air Station outside Doncaster." He waved his hand behind him at the Fuga Libero, "The Fuga here is one of the biggest, certainly, but this kind of craft comes in here all the time. It's pretty unremarkable really - what is there for people to notice?"
Ellie waved at the giant airship. "What is there to notice? It's a bloody airship!" She grabbed hold of the Viscount's shoulder and spun him around to look at the deep matt black flanks of the floating cylinder. "It's a bloody airship that must be more than a mile long! Who the hell has airships anymore? - let alone airships that are longer than most streets!"
A brief flicker of puzzlement crossed the Viscount's face, to be rapidly followed by realisation. "Oh, I'm sorry-" he didn't look sorry in the slightest, "I keep taking for granted that you already know things." He placed a hand on Ellie's shoulder and fixed her gaze with eyes of cold grey steel. "This isn't your reality. This is the reality where the Black Guard Rebellion is based. We're not too far from yours, you'll notice many similarities, but also a lot of differences. Dirigibles are one such - we do have heavier than air flight here, but all the heavy lifting is done by craft like this." He waved a hand at the Fuga Libero by way of illustration.
As he did so he led her down the length of the craft, stopping a hatchway which had folded downwards to provide a short flight of steps, the bottom of which rested less than half an inch above the asphalt of the runway. The Viscount paused at the bottom of the stairs and with a deep bow motioned for Ellie to climb aboard. "After you, my lady."
Ellie shook her head slightly. "What the hell - in for a penny..." she muttered and cautiously ascended the steps into the mammoth aircraft. Before following her the Viscount whistled to a young man clad in black overalls and threw a set of keys to him. "Stick the bus in the hanger will you old lad?" The young man waved assent and headed off in the direction of the camper van. The Viscount watched him go and then, with a wave and a cheerful "And mind the paintwork, there's a good chap!" bounded up the steps into the belly of the floating beast.
Ellie waved at the giant airship. "What is there to notice? It's a bloody airship!" She grabbed hold of the Viscount's shoulder and spun him around to look at the deep matt black flanks of the floating cylinder. "It's a bloody airship that must be more than a mile long! Who the hell has airships anymore? - let alone airships that are longer than most streets!"
A brief flicker of puzzlement crossed the Viscount's face, to be rapidly followed by realisation. "Oh, I'm sorry-" he didn't look sorry in the slightest, "I keep taking for granted that you already know things." He placed a hand on Ellie's shoulder and fixed her gaze with eyes of cold grey steel. "This isn't your reality. This is the reality where the Black Guard Rebellion is based. We're not too far from yours, you'll notice many similarities, but also a lot of differences. Dirigibles are one such - we do have heavier than air flight here, but all the heavy lifting is done by craft like this." He waved a hand at the Fuga Libero by way of illustration.
As he did so he led her down the length of the craft, stopping a hatchway which had folded downwards to provide a short flight of steps, the bottom of which rested less than half an inch above the asphalt of the runway. The Viscount paused at the bottom of the stairs and with a deep bow motioned for Ellie to climb aboard. "After you, my lady."
Ellie shook her head slightly. "What the hell - in for a penny..." she muttered and cautiously ascended the steps into the mammoth aircraft. Before following her the Viscount whistled to a young man clad in black overalls and threw a set of keys to him. "Stick the bus in the hanger will you old lad?" The young man waved assent and headed off in the direction of the camper van. The Viscount watched him go and then, with a wave and a cheerful "And mind the paintwork, there's a good chap!" bounded up the steps into the belly of the floating beast.
-oOo-
Duke Regimen Asquith of the Singularity smoothed the front of his black pinstriped suit as he strode back into the operations room of The Office, his sandpaper voice resonating with confidence and command. "Clerk Mainwaring. Report."
There was the briefest crackle of static before a distantly tinny voice came over the ops room speakers. "My Lord Asquith. I am pleased to report that I have reached a portal. However, I regret that my investigations indicate that it is only capable of returning me to The Office."
The Duke nodded his cadaverous head gravely. "I expected as much," he rasped. "Have you ascertained any locational data?"
There was another pause, and this time it seemed to be caused not by communication difficulties but by Mainwaring's unwillingness to answer the question. When he eventually spoke Mainwairing's voice was tight with tension and frustration.
"I regret not, My Lord."
The Duke looked down at the console. The screen showing the feed from Mainwaring's telemetry chip displayed full Latitude, Longitude and Verisimilitude data - his precise geographical coordinates and which reality he was in. It was odd that Mainwaring couldn't access that data from where he was.
There was the briefest crackle of static before a distantly tinny voice came over the ops room speakers. "My Lord Asquith. I am pleased to report that I have reached a portal. However, I regret that my investigations indicate that it is only capable of returning me to The Office."
The Duke nodded his cadaverous head gravely. "I expected as much," he rasped. "Have you ascertained any locational data?"
There was another pause, and this time it seemed to be caused not by communication difficulties but by Mainwaring's unwillingness to answer the question. When he eventually spoke Mainwairing's voice was tight with tension and frustration.
"I regret not, My Lord."
The Duke looked down at the console. The screen showing the feed from Mainwaring's telemetry chip displayed full Latitude, Longitude and Verisimilitude data - his precise geographical coordinates and which reality he was in. It was odd that Mainwaring couldn't access that data from where he was.
"Very interesting Mainwaring. We have a full fix on you here. You're in uncharted territory, but we know where you are and there's clearly a link from there to rebel territory. You've done well. If you're sure that the portal will return you to the office, please return with all haste and report directly to me. That is all."
With a wave of his grey corpse like hand the Duke severed the connection. Deep in a forest The Office had never suspected might exist, Clerk George Mainwaring smiled to himself, dropped his pistol back into his gladstone bag and vaulted through the portal.
The passageway ended abruptly at a narrow ladder which led up into the heart of the aircraft.
Ellie paused and looked up. She couldn't see the top of the narrow tube that the ladder threaded its way through. "We're going up?" There was just a tinge of irritation behind the question.
"Absolutely - and don't worry, once we get through the outer air cavity you'll find there's a lot more space to move around."
Grudgingly Ellie began to climb. The rungs of the ladder were thin - not even as thick as a pencil, and it wasn't long before they began to dig uncomfortably into her hands as she climbed. "How high does this bloody thing go?" she griped as she reached for the next painful rung.
"Oh, it's only about sixty feet all told." The Viscount's voice below her was maddeningly cheerful and betrayed no evidence of fatigue. Ellie gave some serious, if brief, consideration to stamping on his fingers.
"I suppose," Ellie gasped as she pulled herself up one rung further "it never occurred to you people to install a lift?"
"This is lighter than air flight Ellie, lifts are heavy. The more infrastructure we install in these beasts, the less cargo and equipment we can carry."
"Huh."
After what felt like hours Ellie finally clambered out onto a cool black wooden floor. She sat up to see the Viscount's bowler hatted head appear behind her. He had his goggles strapped around his hat, and that same half amused smile on his pale face. "Welcome aboard!" he grinned as he vaulted out of the climbing tube and onto the floor. Straightening up he looked around the wood panelled room and, finding it empty gave a shout.
"Oi, Bunco! Where's your manners? You're keeping the lady waiting!"
An ebony door at the far end of the chamber swung open and a short, chubby bespectacled man in his mid fifties bustled in, ambling towards Ellie with an enthusiastically outstretched hand. Like the Viscount he was garbed entirely in black. Highly polished black brogues, black three piece linen suit with a long jacket, black frames to his little round glasses. Jet black hair which Ellie suspected must be dyed. Even the watch chain hanging from his waistcoat pocket was black.
"You must be the Fulcrum! So pleased to meet you my dear, so very pleased to meet you!" He grasped Ellie's unresisting hand and shook it vigorously. "I'm Sir Bunestrum of the County Marches, a Major in the Black Guard Rebellion" he enthused, still pumping Ellie's hand, "but you can call me Bunco, everyone does."
"Er, great, thanks." Ellie retrieved her hand and looked at Bunco's attire. Then at Viscount Tristian, and then around the ebony panelled room. "You guys do understand the concept of colour, do you?"
Bunco ignored here and sidled up to Viscount Tristian. "Tris?" he whispered, "Why is she wearing sunglasses indoors?"
The Viscount grinned his infuriating grin and chuckled. "Ellie, you can take the glassses off now." He motioned to Bunco. "This is Bunco - he's fat, flatulent and frankly a pain in the arse, but he's also the most loyal friend you could hope to have and an absolute genius at verisimilitude shifting, tracking and locating. I trust this sorry individual with my life - literally - and he can probably answer every question you have, and a good few you haven't thought of yet."
He turned and started for a door at the other end of the chamber. "I'll leave you in his capable hands for now - I have a few things I need to take care of." Reaching the door he paused and turned back. "Bunco? She didn't ask for any of this. She's lived in monkey world all her life, she has no training and no idea what's going on. Be nice to her. And Ellie? Nobody but me normally calls him Bunco. Everyone else on board calls him either "Sir" or "Your Excellency", depending on who they are. I tend to belittle people - don't be fooled by it, or by his manner."
With a tip of his bowler the Viscount stepped through the door and disappeared into the darkness beyond. Ellie and Bunco watched him go. Bunco spoke first.
"Gosh, he does go on, doesn't he?"
Ellie grinned, in spite of herself. "I thought he'd never shut up! But seriously, I really am freaking out just a little bit. I've been kidnapped, imprisoned, attacked in the shower, blown up, threatened with a gun and blinded. If you can start to explain all this shit I'd be really grateful."
Bunco dipped his head in the smallest of nods and offered Ellie his arm. "Walk this way, my dear, and I shall endeavour to explain everything. Cup of tea?"
The chubby little man led Ellie through the door he had entered through. From the darkness of the shadows in the room beyond Viscount Tristian watched them go. Then he turned on his heel and hurried towards the front of the aircraft. Things were not going according to plan and he was seriously worried. Not for the first time he seriously hoped that Bunco was right. Because he knew that if Bunco wasn't he, Ellie, and the whole Blacguard Rebellion would be lucky to see the end of the week.
With a wave of his grey corpse like hand the Duke severed the connection. Deep in a forest The Office had never suspected might exist, Clerk George Mainwaring smiled to himself, dropped his pistol back into his gladstone bag and vaulted through the portal.
-oOo-
Ellie found that she had to stoop as she made her way along the dimly lit narrow corridor inside the craft. "Why the hell is it so pokey in here?" she demanded "This thing is bloody massive!"
The voice behind her was still infuriatingly amused. "It's an airship. Rather a lot of the space is taken up by, well, air. Oh, and mind your-" Ellie cursed as she hit her head on the ceiling, "-head." Ellie rubbed her head as the laughing voice behind her continued. "That is why I wear the bowler. Not only does it make me appear unspeakably dapper, but it also protects me from all the bangs on the bonce you're bound to get if you spend much time crawling around these things."
The voice behind her was still infuriatingly amused. "It's an airship. Rather a lot of the space is taken up by, well, air. Oh, and mind your-" Ellie cursed as she hit her head on the ceiling, "-head." Ellie rubbed her head as the laughing voice behind her continued. "That is why I wear the bowler. Not only does it make me appear unspeakably dapper, but it also protects me from all the bangs on the bonce you're bound to get if you spend much time crawling around these things."
The passageway ended abruptly at a narrow ladder which led up into the heart of the aircraft.
Ellie paused and looked up. She couldn't see the top of the narrow tube that the ladder threaded its way through. "We're going up?" There was just a tinge of irritation behind the question.
"Absolutely - and don't worry, once we get through the outer air cavity you'll find there's a lot more space to move around."
Grudgingly Ellie began to climb. The rungs of the ladder were thin - not even as thick as a pencil, and it wasn't long before they began to dig uncomfortably into her hands as she climbed. "How high does this bloody thing go?" she griped as she reached for the next painful rung.
"Oh, it's only about sixty feet all told." The Viscount's voice below her was maddeningly cheerful and betrayed no evidence of fatigue. Ellie gave some serious, if brief, consideration to stamping on his fingers.
"I suppose," Ellie gasped as she pulled herself up one rung further "it never occurred to you people to install a lift?"
"This is lighter than air flight Ellie, lifts are heavy. The more infrastructure we install in these beasts, the less cargo and equipment we can carry."
"Huh."
After what felt like hours Ellie finally clambered out onto a cool black wooden floor. She sat up to see the Viscount's bowler hatted head appear behind her. He had his goggles strapped around his hat, and that same half amused smile on his pale face. "Welcome aboard!" he grinned as he vaulted out of the climbing tube and onto the floor. Straightening up he looked around the wood panelled room and, finding it empty gave a shout.
"Oi, Bunco! Where's your manners? You're keeping the lady waiting!"
An ebony door at the far end of the chamber swung open and a short, chubby bespectacled man in his mid fifties bustled in, ambling towards Ellie with an enthusiastically outstretched hand. Like the Viscount he was garbed entirely in black. Highly polished black brogues, black three piece linen suit with a long jacket, black frames to his little round glasses. Jet black hair which Ellie suspected must be dyed. Even the watch chain hanging from his waistcoat pocket was black.
"You must be the Fulcrum! So pleased to meet you my dear, so very pleased to meet you!" He grasped Ellie's unresisting hand and shook it vigorously. "I'm Sir Bunestrum of the County Marches, a Major in the Black Guard Rebellion" he enthused, still pumping Ellie's hand, "but you can call me Bunco, everyone does."
"Er, great, thanks." Ellie retrieved her hand and looked at Bunco's attire. Then at Viscount Tristian, and then around the ebony panelled room. "You guys do understand the concept of colour, do you?"
Bunco ignored here and sidled up to Viscount Tristian. "Tris?" he whispered, "Why is she wearing sunglasses indoors?"
The Viscount grinned his infuriating grin and chuckled. "Ellie, you can take the glassses off now." He motioned to Bunco. "This is Bunco - he's fat, flatulent and frankly a pain in the arse, but he's also the most loyal friend you could hope to have and an absolute genius at verisimilitude shifting, tracking and locating. I trust this sorry individual with my life - literally - and he can probably answer every question you have, and a good few you haven't thought of yet."
He turned and started for a door at the other end of the chamber. "I'll leave you in his capable hands for now - I have a few things I need to take care of." Reaching the door he paused and turned back. "Bunco? She didn't ask for any of this. She's lived in monkey world all her life, she has no training and no idea what's going on. Be nice to her. And Ellie? Nobody but me normally calls him Bunco. Everyone else on board calls him either "Sir" or "Your Excellency", depending on who they are. I tend to belittle people - don't be fooled by it, or by his manner."
With a tip of his bowler the Viscount stepped through the door and disappeared into the darkness beyond. Ellie and Bunco watched him go. Bunco spoke first.
"Gosh, he does go on, doesn't he?"
Ellie grinned, in spite of herself. "I thought he'd never shut up! But seriously, I really am freaking out just a little bit. I've been kidnapped, imprisoned, attacked in the shower, blown up, threatened with a gun and blinded. If you can start to explain all this shit I'd be really grateful."
Bunco dipped his head in the smallest of nods and offered Ellie his arm. "Walk this way, my dear, and I shall endeavour to explain everything. Cup of tea?"
The chubby little man led Ellie through the door he had entered through. From the darkness of the shadows in the room beyond Viscount Tristian watched them go. Then he turned on his heel and hurried towards the front of the aircraft. Things were not going according to plan and he was seriously worried. Not for the first time he seriously hoped that Bunco was right. Because he knew that if Bunco wasn't he, Ellie, and the whole Blacguard Rebellion would be lucky to see the end of the week.
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