Pendleton
Erde
9 April 1005 NE
Alford House
Alford House was a splendid old mansion situated in one of the agricultural regions of the main island, for the Thersonians the trip there was like stepping back in time. Everywhere you had wide open green fields, stout farmers tending to their fields, everywhere you looked everything was pulled or powered by horses with only one or two steam powered vehicles so rare that you would turn your head to peer at this novelty. The air smelled of barnyards with a slight hint of the nearby sea, in short the clean pure air of the Pendleton countryside.
The fields surrounding Alford House was no exception, green and verdant and well attended, but giving way to carefully managed lawns and gardens as you drew nearer the mansion itself. Whatever else you could say about the Alford family it was quite clear that they were both old money and possessing an excellent sense of taste when it came to gardens.
William von Herzog felt vaguely at home here, it was not too different from the estates of a Thersonian noble. The steam cars drove up to the main entrance to the mansion, where the Thersonians were greeted warmly by Alford and his wife, who was the official host of the assembly.
Mrs Alford was a charming woman in her middle-age, who was nevertheless still quite fetching, she was dressed in the traditional Pendletonian fashions "Welcome your excellency", she said and then offered up her hand.
"Charmed I'm sure Mrs Alford," von Herzog said as he bowed slightly and then kissed her hand, smelling a whiff of a peculiar but quite pleasant perfume.
As they proceeded behind the Mansion itself Mrs Alford casually mentioned "I hope you don't mind our informality your Excellency, but we thought a simple function would be best rather than bind us down with the formalities of a full dinner," her tone of voice was quite pleasant but suggesting that she was the mastermind behind this function.
As they entered the gardens itself it was clear that Pendletons views on what was small and informal were rather different than those of most other worlds. There were several long tables with various cold dishes and fruits, and of course servants carrying trays with many different types of hors d'ouvres or else filled with clinking crystal glasses. The informal aspect seemed to consist primarily of the fact that there were only some twenty other guests present aside from the Thersonians.
Von Herzog however found that, after being discretely introduced to the various people there, it was quite easy to speak to them especially if you could regard the servants simply as part of the background. Indeed the same experience was had by Waldow and the other Thersonians, who found the Pendletonians to be politely curious about the strange visitors.
In this relaxed slow paced assembly there was plenty of time to discuss various issues in a roundabout relaxed fashion, Alford discretely hinted that the Republic would definitely be interested in dealing with Therson. This discussion however was generally light and accomplished little other than a general understanding that trade and mutual support in the face of communism would be good.
One of the things that Alford did do however was to show von Herzog a thick folder bound with red silk tape "It's the..." he opened the folder which contained several legal looking documents with wax seals on them "The deeds to the, ah, embassy servants, and ... a set of pre-produced emancipation documents with the names of the emancipator and the slave to be emancipated being blank."
Von Herzog turned his eyes on Alford, but accepted the thick folder, still he couldn't let it pass without comment and replied "I thought your office would handle it?" he asked curiously.
Alford seemed a bit surprised as he answered "Technically the embassy and everything within is your property, for us to emancipate them would cause... technical difficulties, also your status as an Embassy will free you from having to pay stamp tax or emancipation tax."
Von Herzog nodded now before he tucked the documents away, reminding himself to bring them home when he left and to expedite the emancipation right away. That said he was now rather curious about the property and since Alford was talking to Waldow for the moment von Herzog decided to explore the grounds a bit as he had indeed been invited to do.
Towards the outskirts of the garden there was visible something which looked very much like a proper forest, where several enormous moss bound oaks, and other large old trees, seemed to surround the picturesque ruin of an old watermill. Of course it wasn't easy to spot this ruin, but there was a footpath going through this section, and the carefully arranged trees provided for many discrete hiding places. This of course was all part of the perennial Pendletonian adoration of ruins and antiquity.
Standing by this ruin, in a rather secluded spot not visible from where the partygoers might be likely to go, there was a young woman painting, she was absorbed with her art and seemed oblivious to von Herzog's presence. As he drew nearer he could see that she was blonde and attractive, wearing a rather fetching dress of a fashionable cut, but the effect of restrained elegance was somewhat disrupted by the somewhat gaudy thick gold choker she wore. On the easel there was a painting of the scene before her, she was showing quite a bit of artistic promise as she emphasised the romantic aspects of the scene.
Suddenly though she tensed and turned around, upon spotting the stranger she blinked a couple of times and then made a deep curtsy with her eyes downcast. The palette meanwhile clattered against the ground, fortunately with the right side up.
Von Herzog opened his mouth to say something as he walked towards her, but that was when he discovered that mossy forests near rivers have a tendency to be slippery places, and that one really ought to stick to the footpaths. Taking one step wrong he slid and fell, his arm instinctively shooting out but with an awkward fall of some distance it hit another rock and there was a sick cracking sound.
The lower half of his body felt wet, looking down von Herzog saw that he had slid all the way down into the river, and waves of pain rose from his arm which was slightly twisted in a way that showed it was broken. For that matter his ankles didn't feel too good either.
Even as he was about to make a cry for help he noticed that the woman he spotted earlier was right next to him, he twisted his head slightly noticing her shapely ankles and the inches of shapely calves that her slightly shortened skirt revealed. She grabbed him and tried to pull him, but seeing his reaction she stopped and muttered "So sorry your Excellency do you wish medical attention?"
"Yes go..." he began but the moment he said yes she kneeled down next to him and muttered some peculiar words, before he could say anything else he felt a tingling feeling in his arm and suddenly realised the pain was gone and that it had moved back into its proper position.
The woman smiled comfortingly "There Your Excellency, how else may I serve you?"
Von Herzog was still too stunned for words, MAGIC he had heard of it and even seen it, but so far he had not seen it or heard of it on Pendleton. "Who are you Ma'am?" he asked politely eying her curiously for a moment, but stopping as he realised he made her blush.
"If you will forgive me your Excellency I am not a Ma'am, I am Mary Fairchild, usually referred to as Fairchild," Fairchild said humbly as she offered her hand to help him up.
Von Herzog felt a bit confused even as he accepted her hand "Ah but that is the naming convention used for servants, and on Pendleton..." the sudden realisation struck him.
"Yes Your Excellency I am the household medical mage," she said as they ascended up the footpath back to where she was painting "I was told to be ready in case there was an emergency Your Excellency."
"You know who I am Ma'am," Von Herzog asked curiously, but seeing Fairchilds slightly pained expression at the honorific he reminded himself not to use it anymore.
Fairchild nodded "Yes Excellency, or rather I knew you'd be coming and you've been described to me so it was a lucky guess," she said.
"You're a good painter Fairchild," von Herzog remarked as he studied the painting, it was really quite good and had a certain dreamlike quality to it.
"Thank you Sir," she said as she picked up her palette again "I..." she blushed a little but then continued "I do try my best."
The awkwardness was palpable as von Herzog searched for another subject "So, ah, you're a mage Fairchild?" he asked feeling a bit sheepish at asking such an obvious question, quickly following it up with "I don't suppose you have a spell for fixing dirty and wet clothing," he said as he indicated the mess that his clothes had turned into.
"Oh so sorry Your Excellency," Mary said, then she muttered a few words of power and a strange blueish cold fire seemed to flash across Alfords clothes burning away water and dirt while leaving everything else pristine and fresh.
"Fairchild... are you the only mage around," von Herzog asked curiously, wondering what other surprises this world held.
"Of course not Excellency," Fairchild replied, and then seeing von Herzogs interested look she began to explain. Apparently there were quite a few mages on Pendleton, a few were slaves but most were free. What was truly astonishing however was the numbers and powers that she described, as she went into some detail von Herzog began to realise that rather than being a world that was equipped with one or two minor talents this was a world possessed of High Magic.
"How can they hide it," he asked finally, quite astounded and exasperated.
Fairchild smiled a bit "Oh I think you'll find Excellency that our society is very good at not talking about awkward things, and hiding awkward facts, and making sure everyone stays in place..." she trailed off there and instead began on a different tack "They prefer to think their science can conquer all Your Excellency, while in fact their science is insignificant compared to their magical might, I fear that finding people more advanced them in that regard has..." a cute smile crossed her lips "Ah... upset them a little."
Von Herzog was about to ask more when he suddenly heard footsteps behind him, and at once Fairchild curtsied deeply once more and looked downwards just as she had when he first appeared. Turning around von Herzog spotted Alford approaching, Alford seemed rather pleased though.
"I say Your Excellency," Alford began as he adeptly avoided the slippery rocks as he moved closer "I see you've found Fairchild."
"Yes, ah, she's been quite helpful Minister," von Herzog said "I say I didn't know you had magics."
Alford stopped a bit "Yes, we do, it's ... ah, rather common isn't it Excellency?"
For the first time von Herzog truly began to realise that Pendleton might have more to offer than a strategic location and warm bodies, and as they proceeded back towards the main ground the discussion began to move into more interesting subjects.
Pendleton Fic: Inspector Lebrija
Moderator: LadyTevar
Pendleton Fic: Inspector Lebrija
Last edited by Norseman on 2005-05-08 08:50am, edited 1 time in total.
The Case of the Mysterious Ambassador Part I
Pendleton
Erde
9 April 1005 NE
Alford House
The best place to start is probably at the beginning, it all started two days earlier in the headquarters of the Gendarme Department of Pendleton, popularly known as Old Brick. Within the fine Gothic style brick building that gave it its name there lay a swarming hive of activity, with neatly dressed functionaries going to and fro carrying bundles of documents, and offices filled with filing cabinets and occasionally supervisors desks with one or even more black telephones.
However further up in the second and third stories in the vast building there were the offices of the Detective Inspectors and Detective Chief Inspectors, the highest ranking persons who did actual hands on detective work. The offices were quite small, indeed lower ranking members of the Gendarmes situated in less central areas would have far larger offices, but here as everywhere else location was everything.
If you now walked down the oak clad corridors marking the section where the quality served you might remark upon many fine oil paintings in often ancient frames, dour men and a very rare woman here and there, dressed in old fashioned clothes and staring down at you. These were paintings of past detectives and other notables known for having served the Gendarmes well, and set the mood as you'd proceed further down the distant murmur of the offices behind you and with now only a handful of detectives in plain clothes walking to or from their offices, and of course the odd secretary and servant.
One of the doors in this section was marked simply "Detective Chief Inspector Lebrija G.S. B.T.R. & Detective Inspector Day Esq." written on a small discrete but well polished brass plate on the door. A polite knock on the door would bring about a polite call of "Enter," and as you opened the door and it swung on its well oiled hinges you'd be in the small ante chamber holding a secretary sitting behind a simple wooden desk as well as a stack of filing cabinets against the walls.
This however would be as far as you'd get unless you had some pressing reason to see the two gentlemen detectives. If you did however enter the sanctum sanctorum of the office you'd find it surprisingly small, but with a window giving a good view of the street below. Two desks facing each other, one on each side of the office, and a vast collection of objects d'art adorned the room leaving scarcely any part of it uncluttered, most of them however had some connection to police work like for instance the large map of Pendleton and surroundings that adorned the wall.
Inspector Lebrija, the senior in the relationship, sat leaned back in his leather chair, a fine thin cigar gently placed on his lips, he peered at the fleeting wafts of smoke in an almost nonchalant fashion. Though in his late forties he was a handsome man, his hair once jet black now had lines of silver in it, as did his meticulously trimmed mustachio and short beard. His clothes and demeanour seemed to suggest a member of the somewhat extravagant yet at the same time deeply elegant and tasteful Platan gentry.
Inspector Day however was in many ways different from him, handsome and youthful, clean shaven and short yet simultaneously somewhat disorderly hair. He seemed more carefree than Lebrija, drinking tea rather than smoking, and casually drumming the fingers of his free hand against the desk where he sat. Despite his suit and obvious breeding there was an air of the violent young man about him.
After a few moments of silence there was a brief creak as the door went up and their secretary came in carrying a small bundle of letters "Mail call Sirs," he said as he quickly sorted the letters and placed them in the IN folder on each desk.
Lebrija casually grabbed the letters and carefully looked at each of them, taking his long brass letter opener to each of them before quickly scanning the contents. Inspector Day however simply ripped them open without further ado, to the raised eyebrow of his superior.
After a few minutes of going through mail Lebrija suddenly let out a chuckle "I say, I have an invitation to attend an informal ourdoors luncheon at Alford House," noticing Day's reaction he added "Care to join me?"
"It sounds like a boring political function," Day said wondering if he should bother "They must remember that little problem you solved way back when."
"Now, now we're not to talk about that," Lebrija said with a knowing smile "Embarrass the upper classes if they knew... hello," he stopped as he noticed something "The Thersonian ambassador will be present."
"Therson as in the people from a different world?" Day asked.
Lebrija nodded "Yeeeees, so they are, I wonder ... wouldn't hurt to get a closer look at new players in the game eh?" there was the slightest hint of a Platan accent as he spoke.
"Certainly not"
"Good then you will come with me?"
"Why of course, it'd be my pleasure," While the Chief Inspector stands around talking politics I can have fun at the buffet tables
Thus it happened that on the 9th they drove up to Alford house in Lebrija's personal automobile, driven by his dour chauffeur. They reached Alford house, a stately mansion in the old style surrounded by a fine traditional garden, at the appointed hour. Upon sending in their cards they were greeted warmly and shown to the back garden where several tables burgeoning with various cold dishes had been arranged, and several servants carrying trays of full wine or champagne glasses.
Inspector Day followed his earlier plans and discovered some truly excellent Nouveau Aquitainian caviar which lovingly smeared across a light cracker made a nice counter point to the champagne. All of it was of an excellent quality, the sort he'd ordinarily only enjoy once or twice a month, and as such an additional chance to indulge was most enjoyable.
Most of the other guests were the sort of functionaries and dignitaries that could be described as being relatively close to the Alfords, something which made Day idly wonder if it was sheer gratitude or something else that had caused the invitation. It was at any rate not something he chose to ponder on more extensively as he instead admired the fine garden and indeed the more fetching servants of the Alford residence I wonder how much they cost, likely more than an annual salary he thought idly.
What he missed, but which Lebrija did notice was the hand over of the deeds to the embassy and the slaves therein, although the Platan did not comment on this he did notice, and from the gossip with other guests learned something shocking and novel. Apparently the Thersonians were quite uncomfortable with the institution of slavery, to the point that they were planning to emancipate the slaves at the earliest possible convenience.
"Most peculiar," Lebrija commented to Day.
Day looked at his superior and swallowed a large piece of foie gras before replying "What is?"
"The Thersonians do not approve of slavery."
"Eh? They don't look very churchy."
"Hm, maybe not, but it's a point worth noting."
Day seemed a bit perplexed "How come Sir?"
"In the old days Day, sometimes runaways would shelter in embassies," Lebrija explained.
"Wouldn't that be easily solved with a few discrete Gendarmes?"
Lebrija nodded "Yes Mr Day, that's the solution they chose back then, but lets not take our worries in advance."
After that their conversation broke up again as other people came within earshot and the two of them went to different ends of the function. Day however being more interested in enjoying rare delicacies, and peering at pretty things of different sorts found himself standing on the outskirts of the function and looking towards a nice picturesque garden. Looks like a romantic painting he thought, and indeed it did look just like one of those paintings that second and third rate artists sold cheap on the streets.
That was when he noted something really odd, the Thersonian ambassador was wandering away into the more picturesque moss grown forest. Somewhat puzzled as to why the guest of honour would wander of Day decided that it might be a good idea to follow just in case, and of course being a discrete fellow he managed this just fine.
Towards the outskirts of the garden there was visible something which looked very much like a proper forest, where several enormous moss bound oaks, and other large old trees, seemed to surround the picturesque ruin of an old watermill. Of course it wasn't easy to spot this ruin, but there was a footpath going through this section, and the carefully arranged trees provided for many discrete hiding places. Day naturally understood the use of this place My, bit obvious aren't they and indeed the picturesque ruin also brought a slight smirk to his lip who's fooling whom? He wondered as he thought about the probably very different motivations that Mr and Mrs Alford had for constructing this place.
As he spotted the painting slave however he frowned a bit, she was blonde and wearing a nice fashionable dress though even from where he was he could figure it was rather shorter than a free woman would wear. However the gaudy gold choker or collar denoted to him a mage, Priviledged, standing in a concealed location, painting, who is she waiting for? He wondered, mentally a group of candidates flashed before his eyes but he rejected most of them Either the son of the house, a handsome servant, or maybe she just wants some time to paint that would have been this conclusion if not for the inexplicable presence of the Thersonian ambassador.
From a distance, hidden in among some bushes, he could safely observe all that was happening. The Ambassador was walking over to her when he slid in some slippery moss growing on one of the moist stones near the riverside, and then he came tumbling down. Day's eyes widened in shock and he made to burst forward when he realised that the ambassador was hurt, but before he could reveal himself the mage had cast a healing spell. Therefore Day decided that it was probably wise to wait for a little longer before revealing himself.
For the longest time however the pair seemed to talk together, the young woman slightly modest and subservient, and the ambassador seeming inquisitive. Unfortunately Day couldn't really make out their conversation from where he was at, something which was rather a pity. Still the behaviour of the ambassador was most odd, almost suspicious, even though as far as Day could tell nothing was exchanged between the two.
Back at the function
Feeling somewhat self-conscious Lebrija politely bowed towards Alford and whispered "It seems the Ambassador is missing Minister."
Alford broke from his current conversation with a smile, and then flicked his eyes discretely about "Yes indeed Sir Anthony, do you..." he looked hopefully at the Chief Inspector.
"The ruined mill," Lebrija said quietly.
Alford gave Lebrija a grateful look before he gracefully extracted himself from the function to go bring back the key guest, meanwhile Alfords aide helped alter the subject slightly.
The Ruin Garden
As Day watched he saw the Minister appear walking up the footpath, Day waited to see what would happen as the Minister walked up to the Ambassador and the two began to talk. They spoke for a few moments, with the slave bowing obediently at the sight of the master of the house, and then Ambassador and Minister walked back to the function leaving the woman to continue her painting.
Day quietly walked away from the spot where he'd been hiding, he was somewhat annoyed as he discovered that his ankles were quite soaked from the tall wet grass and he believed that his trousers would be stained green too typical he thought as he walked across the mossy field back to the lawn where the main function was.
As he reached the function he noticed that there was a small crowd surrounding the Minister and the Ambassador, all of them chatting amiably while sipping champagne from long crystal flutes. None of them paid any attention to him as he walked back up to the tables, Day looked at a waiter who obediently and quietly came over and handed him some wine, then he helped himself to more of the foie gras.
Suddenly he heard a voice "So what happened" it said, Day turned around to see Lebrija standing there.
"I say Sir give me a bit of a start," Day said "You mean with the ambassador and such?"
"Yes, that'd be good."
Day then quickly filled Lebrija in on what had transpired earlier, including his own suspicions in regards to the strange behaviour of the ambassador. To his own mind it was quite a queer event, who knew what these foreigners might be up to after all.
"I say!" Lebrija ejaculated as he heard about the Ambassadors queer behaviour at such a gay occasion.
Day nodded, then as he watched the ambassador he pondered "Think it's something we ought to look into Sir?"
"Very discretely, I say..." Lebrija looked at the throng around Minister Alford "I will tell the minister when it's time, Mr Day please go borrow a telephone and call Old Brick, ask them to please keep a couple of forensic magi ready..."
Day turned around and moved quietly towards the house, stopping one of the servants as he reached the area near the house "I say my good man," he said as he realised that this was a lower servant "Is there a telephone nearby?" He thought about pulling out his badge but that might cause more gossip among the servants than necessary.
The servant bowed deeply before replying "Yes Sir, there is one in the hallway for guests to use," he said.
Moments later Day was being led through the house by another servant, this was an impassive footman that seemed to have an ineffaceable arrogant sneer on his face, much like the rest of the breed wherever situated. "The telephone Sir!" he said quite unnecessarily as they reached the white ivory and brass telephone in the hallway, he then discretely held out a white gloved hand until Day absentmindedly tipped him.
He casually picked up the phone and tapped the handle till he got the operator "Give me Old Brick please," he said and then stood by for the minute or so of clicks and whooshing sounds that it took for the connection to be made. After relaying his message he carefully hung up the telephone and began to move outside, as soon as he stepped outside he looked up seeing that the sky was still cloud free but the sun was starting to move a bit and the function would probably break up soon.
Lebrija however approached him quietly "Mr Day I've spoken to the Minister, we get to interrogate the slave, Fairchild, and to search her quarters, provided of course everything is done very discretely," he said in a low voice to Day "We will begin with her quarters now, while all are busy so go ask your leave of Mrs Alford now as I have and shall act as if we are leaving."
"While we're really sticking behind to investigate Sir?" Day asked.
Lebrija just nodded in reply and the two of them then carried out their plan, Lebrija seeming to depart for his car and Day politely begging his leave claiming public affairs were alas calling and that he was saddened by this but had to so humbly beg his leave. Naturally this was granted in just as gracious a fashion as it was asked and the two of them then affected to leave.
Fairchilds Rooms
For a slave Fairchild certainly had very admirable and acceptable quarters, or rather three of them, for in addition to her bedroom which also served as her boudoir there was a sitting room and a bath. All of the rooms were carefully and lovingly furnished in a somewhat old fashioned style, but would not have been considered unacceptable for a young lady of quality. Of course Fairchild was a mage and thus among the more pampered slaves, but as they went through her quarters the two Gendarmes could not but help to reach certain conclusions.
In general it was best to search a room manually before resorting to magical tricks, and of course it would still be a while before the magi arrived. The parlour was a perfectly ordinary one of the sort that any young lady or favoured slave might have, there was a couple of low tables, some womens' magazines, a couch and of course a nice little piano.
Day picked up one of the Magazines "Bondswoman Magazine," he read out loud as he flipped through some of the articles it was the usual things though; how to avoid pregnancies, notes on make-up, and a couple of articles on covering up bruises, one of them was really an ad for a face cream. Most of it was of course rather upper class since only the most high classed bondswomen would ever be allowed, or able, to read such a magazine. A few of the articles seemed a bit strange though, but he didn't really have time to read them and let the magazine fall after flipping through it to see if anything had been marked or written in it.
The bathroom wasn't too interesting either, it was the standard marble and brass design that was so popular twenty years ago, and was having a revival now. Aside from a lot of expensive perfumed shampoos and soaps they found nothing of interest there.
The bedroom however was where the interest lay, there was of course a large four post bed with fine white linens on it and several large fluffy down pillows, the mattress was, they soon ascertained that it was spring loaded. The rest of the room was marked by a rather large vanity table with a plethora of drawers in it, and of course a large wardrobe made from hardwood. Other than that the room was sparsely decorated, aside from a single painting on the wall depicting a Saint.
"Saint Margaret of Cortona" Inspector Lebrija said, he rubbed his chin slowly as he studied the picture "An interesting choice." A look almost like pity crossed his face, and then he walked directly over to the bed and began to examine the linens carefully. After a few minutes of study her threw them slightly aside and pointed at a couple of tell tale dried stains.
Day shrugged at this revelation "I figured as much the moment I saw this..." he motioned around the room.
"I had hopes her medical service might preclude..." Lebrija stopped least he be caught in an indiscrete statement.
"Sir?"
"Examine the vanity table Mr Day."
As asked Day began to examine the vanity table, it was quite large and had many drawers, and of course as was the wont of the age there were several of them that were cunningly concealed. Within he found a lot of make up and perfume, more than any decent woman would ever have, and quite a substantial amount of jewellery much of it of a surpassing quality.
Lebrija meanwhile walked back to the wall, he looked at the painting of Saint Margaret for a while, then he reached out and turned it around, it was quite easy to do so and he carefully studied the string by which it hung. "Hmmmmm," he said as he saw that it was worn, as if the painting had been turned around many times before.
Even so they found nothing incriminating, even the wardrobe included nothing out of the ordinary, though some of the garments that they found were no doubt expensive but also of such a nature that Day raised his eyebrow and smirked slightly. They did find one odd thing though, leaned against the back of the wardrobe was a single painting, depicting a young slave girl maybe 12 or 13, she looked very innocent and stood in an area that was unmistakable part of Alford House's estate.
"A certain family resemblance don't you think Mr Day?" Lebrija asked casually as he studied the painting "A sister or a daughter perhaps?"
"A sister maybe Sir, but..."
"Magic Mr Day, magic, I would venture that our Fairchild is far older than she looks."
At this moment they were interrupted by a knock on the door, Day walked over to it and opened it revealing a middle-aged man, rather non-descript, wearing a neat suit and carrying a large leather brief case. "I am Victor Blythe, Magi Inspector, I believe you required our service?" he said as he extended his hand to Day.
"Detective Inspector Day," Day replied shaking Blythe's hand, it was smooth but the handshake was dry and hard.
"Mr Blythe," Lebrija called out from within the room "Glad to see it's you they sent," as Blythe walked into the room Lebrija indicated the bed "Just two things check if those stains on the sheets are what we think they are, and then see if anything's been magically concealed."
Walking over to Day he added "Mr Day, take the magazines with us, I am sure Fairchild can replace them but Blythe there has spells to tell us which pages have received most attention."
Day nodded to this, looking questioningly at Blythe who was currently weaving his magic, making the stains on the sheets blow a soft blue.
"Yes Sir, they're exactly what you think, and now for the room," Blythe's hands moved in peculiar patterns hard to describe, and then he shook his head "Nothing Sir, what you see is what you get I fear."
"Then it's time to interrogate Fairchild herself..." Lebrija said sadly, "I'll see what we can do."
Later in the evening
Though discretion, that is the need to avoid scandal, was imperative a constructive compromise had been reached. Like many mansions Alford House had a punishment room, sometimes called the Woodshed, where disobedient slaves would be sent if their offence was too big to warrant simply a cuffing, but too slight to warrant a flogging before the staff. This room usually occupied a place of dread in the household mythology, indeed the nickname was actually quite apropos because most punishments would be slight, indeed the fear of the place and having to wait there is often as bad as the punishment itself.
As such it was an excellent place to interrogate Fairchild, who did indeed seem gratifyingly worried as she sat on the three legged stool, swallowing a bit and tried to crane her neck to keep watching Lebrija as he walked around her.
"Fairchild, I hope you understand that you are in some trouble," he told her in a fatherly concerned tone of voice.
"I see Sir," Fairchild said, she trembled slightly from the cold, white fog rising from her lips for they were close to the basement.
"Do you?" Lebrija asked somewhat sternly "You must answer our questions now, truthfully and in full, do not lie for we will know if you do."
"I understand Sir," Fairchild said as she steeled herself for the questions, but as someone born a gentlewoman she was determined not to lie except in extremis. Of course since she was enslaved lies came easier certainly one lie has come easy enough but she suppressed that thought.
They asked her several questions, most of which she answered easily enough, telling truthfully that she had not made any plans for the meeting and was simply painting the ruin garden to pass time while she waited. She had been instructed to stay nearby in case there was a medical emergency, but not mingle with the crowd since the Thersonians didn't like slavery much. After that she recounted the events of the day describing the conversation with the ambassador in as much detail as she could, all the while pleading that she never told them anything out of the ordinary.
"With whom do you fornicate," Lebrija asked, feeling somewhat disquieted that he had to, but the question did matter.
"I... I can't tell you Sir," Fairchild said, her lips quivering a bit as she spoke.
"You can and you must, we need to know if it is just one or more," he continued Pity, no doubt she was once a virtuous and chaste woman, but now... not her fault but that can't be helped
"You don't understand Sir," she pleaded, trying to hint that she had promised silence.
Lebrija shook his head sadly, he then gently patted her shoulder, feeling how she tensed "I will go for some tea, I hope you will reconsider by the time I return," he then walked towards the door, then as he opened it he gave Day a little nod.
Outside the door he summoned a servant for some tea, and then paced the corridor a bit, there was the occasional screech that escaped through the door. As the servant arrived with the tea Lebrija took it and tasted it, his mouth felt so filled with bile that he had to take six lumps of sugar in it before he could swallow. Finally he re-entered the room.
Fairchild was shivering and clutching her belly, a slight smudge of vomit was in the right corner of her mouth and down her jaw. Lebrija frowned as he walked around the small pool of it laying on the ground, then he sat down in front of her and asked gently "Please, who?"
"Peter Alford," Fairchild croaked out.
Lebrija nodded "The son of the house?"
"Yes Sir"
"Anyone else?"
"No Sir, I am not some wanton."
Lebrija didn't look at Blythe, he didn't have to in order to know the truth, he just nodded, then he smiled at her again "I know, I know".
"The girl in the painting?"
"My daughter Sir, she was sold around that time, nearly ten years ago."
The next questions were more probing into other areas, and Fairchild answered all of them promptly and truthfully, though appearing a bit queasy at times.
Afterwards the three Gendarmes picked up and left, but in the hallway Lebrija was sure to remind them "What she said of Peter Alford, that is of course a strictly private matter." Both of them nodded to this, even if they wondered why he'd even bring it up, obviously it went without saying that whatever the Heir to the Manor did to someone like Fairchild was simply a fact of life.
Alfords Office
Alfords office was the very model of a ministers home office, a thick carpet to absorb any sounds so that any debate within would not be audible outside the room. The walls were lined with oak bookshelves containing thick leather bound volumes on law and history, especially the history and correspondence of past Foreign Ministers. The chairs were deep and comfortable, and there was always small tables nearby where a visiting gentleman could rest his cognac snifter.
"At any rate Minister I dare say that nothing inappropriate was said or done by Fairchild, and I would hazard that the Ambassador simply wandered off," Lebrija commented.
Alford nodded as always, but he still seemed worried "That may be Sir Anthony, but if someone were to try something against the ambassador there could be trouble, and of course the ..." he motioned with his hand "The abolitionists are bound to try something, even if there was no true danger today then." He trailed off "I should appreciate it if you would keep an eye on this situation."
"Why me Minister, I am certain that BOSS for all their lack of subtlety would be better equipped," Lebrija said, despite not liking BOSS he had to admit that this sounded like their bailiwick.
Alford shook his head a couple of times "No, not them, not now, I need someone I can trust, Sir Anthony, or Chief Inspector Lebrija, the Gendarmes have a mandate for this kind of thing."
"I see Minister, in that case I have to ask if I will have your support?"
"Of course Sir Anthony, whatever you need."
"I see, then there are three things a formal document granting me status of a Cabinet Agent, then I need to borrow Fairchild, and have access to Fairchilds daughter" Lebrija requested.
Alford blinked, clearly a tad surprised "I can certainly grant you the first item, and even the second to some degree, but the third... she was sold nearly a decade ago and though I suppose I could buy her back," he seemed embarrassed "Very well ... though I should like to know why since it may affect ..."
Lebrija leaned forward and explained his idea in some detail, much to the surprise of Alford who though he could appreciate the suggestions seemed a tad taken aback.
"It's a gamble," Alford finally announced "Yet I'm willing to risk it," he said as he began to write out the necessary documentation.
Erde
9 April 1005 NE
Alford House
The best place to start is probably at the beginning, it all started two days earlier in the headquarters of the Gendarme Department of Pendleton, popularly known as Old Brick. Within the fine Gothic style brick building that gave it its name there lay a swarming hive of activity, with neatly dressed functionaries going to and fro carrying bundles of documents, and offices filled with filing cabinets and occasionally supervisors desks with one or even more black telephones.
However further up in the second and third stories in the vast building there were the offices of the Detective Inspectors and Detective Chief Inspectors, the highest ranking persons who did actual hands on detective work. The offices were quite small, indeed lower ranking members of the Gendarmes situated in less central areas would have far larger offices, but here as everywhere else location was everything.
If you now walked down the oak clad corridors marking the section where the quality served you might remark upon many fine oil paintings in often ancient frames, dour men and a very rare woman here and there, dressed in old fashioned clothes and staring down at you. These were paintings of past detectives and other notables known for having served the Gendarmes well, and set the mood as you'd proceed further down the distant murmur of the offices behind you and with now only a handful of detectives in plain clothes walking to or from their offices, and of course the odd secretary and servant.
One of the doors in this section was marked simply "Detective Chief Inspector Lebrija G.S. B.T.R. & Detective Inspector Day Esq." written on a small discrete but well polished brass plate on the door. A polite knock on the door would bring about a polite call of "Enter," and as you opened the door and it swung on its well oiled hinges you'd be in the small ante chamber holding a secretary sitting behind a simple wooden desk as well as a stack of filing cabinets against the walls.
This however would be as far as you'd get unless you had some pressing reason to see the two gentlemen detectives. If you did however enter the sanctum sanctorum of the office you'd find it surprisingly small, but with a window giving a good view of the street below. Two desks facing each other, one on each side of the office, and a vast collection of objects d'art adorned the room leaving scarcely any part of it uncluttered, most of them however had some connection to police work like for instance the large map of Pendleton and surroundings that adorned the wall.
Inspector Lebrija, the senior in the relationship, sat leaned back in his leather chair, a fine thin cigar gently placed on his lips, he peered at the fleeting wafts of smoke in an almost nonchalant fashion. Though in his late forties he was a handsome man, his hair once jet black now had lines of silver in it, as did his meticulously trimmed mustachio and short beard. His clothes and demeanour seemed to suggest a member of the somewhat extravagant yet at the same time deeply elegant and tasteful Platan gentry.
Inspector Day however was in many ways different from him, handsome and youthful, clean shaven and short yet simultaneously somewhat disorderly hair. He seemed more carefree than Lebrija, drinking tea rather than smoking, and casually drumming the fingers of his free hand against the desk where he sat. Despite his suit and obvious breeding there was an air of the violent young man about him.
After a few moments of silence there was a brief creak as the door went up and their secretary came in carrying a small bundle of letters "Mail call Sirs," he said as he quickly sorted the letters and placed them in the IN folder on each desk.
Lebrija casually grabbed the letters and carefully looked at each of them, taking his long brass letter opener to each of them before quickly scanning the contents. Inspector Day however simply ripped them open without further ado, to the raised eyebrow of his superior.
After a few minutes of going through mail Lebrija suddenly let out a chuckle "I say, I have an invitation to attend an informal ourdoors luncheon at Alford House," noticing Day's reaction he added "Care to join me?"
"It sounds like a boring political function," Day said wondering if he should bother "They must remember that little problem you solved way back when."
"Now, now we're not to talk about that," Lebrija said with a knowing smile "Embarrass the upper classes if they knew... hello," he stopped as he noticed something "The Thersonian ambassador will be present."
"Therson as in the people from a different world?" Day asked.
Lebrija nodded "Yeeeees, so they are, I wonder ... wouldn't hurt to get a closer look at new players in the game eh?" there was the slightest hint of a Platan accent as he spoke.
"Certainly not"
"Good then you will come with me?"
"Why of course, it'd be my pleasure," While the Chief Inspector stands around talking politics I can have fun at the buffet tables
Thus it happened that on the 9th they drove up to Alford house in Lebrija's personal automobile, driven by his dour chauffeur. They reached Alford house, a stately mansion in the old style surrounded by a fine traditional garden, at the appointed hour. Upon sending in their cards they were greeted warmly and shown to the back garden where several tables burgeoning with various cold dishes had been arranged, and several servants carrying trays of full wine or champagne glasses.
Inspector Day followed his earlier plans and discovered some truly excellent Nouveau Aquitainian caviar which lovingly smeared across a light cracker made a nice counter point to the champagne. All of it was of an excellent quality, the sort he'd ordinarily only enjoy once or twice a month, and as such an additional chance to indulge was most enjoyable.
Most of the other guests were the sort of functionaries and dignitaries that could be described as being relatively close to the Alfords, something which made Day idly wonder if it was sheer gratitude or something else that had caused the invitation. It was at any rate not something he chose to ponder on more extensively as he instead admired the fine garden and indeed the more fetching servants of the Alford residence I wonder how much they cost, likely more than an annual salary he thought idly.
What he missed, but which Lebrija did notice was the hand over of the deeds to the embassy and the slaves therein, although the Platan did not comment on this he did notice, and from the gossip with other guests learned something shocking and novel. Apparently the Thersonians were quite uncomfortable with the institution of slavery, to the point that they were planning to emancipate the slaves at the earliest possible convenience.
"Most peculiar," Lebrija commented to Day.
Day looked at his superior and swallowed a large piece of foie gras before replying "What is?"
"The Thersonians do not approve of slavery."
"Eh? They don't look very churchy."
"Hm, maybe not, but it's a point worth noting."
Day seemed a bit perplexed "How come Sir?"
"In the old days Day, sometimes runaways would shelter in embassies," Lebrija explained.
"Wouldn't that be easily solved with a few discrete Gendarmes?"
Lebrija nodded "Yes Mr Day, that's the solution they chose back then, but lets not take our worries in advance."
After that their conversation broke up again as other people came within earshot and the two of them went to different ends of the function. Day however being more interested in enjoying rare delicacies, and peering at pretty things of different sorts found himself standing on the outskirts of the function and looking towards a nice picturesque garden. Looks like a romantic painting he thought, and indeed it did look just like one of those paintings that second and third rate artists sold cheap on the streets.
That was when he noted something really odd, the Thersonian ambassador was wandering away into the more picturesque moss grown forest. Somewhat puzzled as to why the guest of honour would wander of Day decided that it might be a good idea to follow just in case, and of course being a discrete fellow he managed this just fine.
Towards the outskirts of the garden there was visible something which looked very much like a proper forest, where several enormous moss bound oaks, and other large old trees, seemed to surround the picturesque ruin of an old watermill. Of course it wasn't easy to spot this ruin, but there was a footpath going through this section, and the carefully arranged trees provided for many discrete hiding places. Day naturally understood the use of this place My, bit obvious aren't they and indeed the picturesque ruin also brought a slight smirk to his lip who's fooling whom? He wondered as he thought about the probably very different motivations that Mr and Mrs Alford had for constructing this place.
As he spotted the painting slave however he frowned a bit, she was blonde and wearing a nice fashionable dress though even from where he was he could figure it was rather shorter than a free woman would wear. However the gaudy gold choker or collar denoted to him a mage, Priviledged, standing in a concealed location, painting, who is she waiting for? He wondered, mentally a group of candidates flashed before his eyes but he rejected most of them Either the son of the house, a handsome servant, or maybe she just wants some time to paint that would have been this conclusion if not for the inexplicable presence of the Thersonian ambassador.
From a distance, hidden in among some bushes, he could safely observe all that was happening. The Ambassador was walking over to her when he slid in some slippery moss growing on one of the moist stones near the riverside, and then he came tumbling down. Day's eyes widened in shock and he made to burst forward when he realised that the ambassador was hurt, but before he could reveal himself the mage had cast a healing spell. Therefore Day decided that it was probably wise to wait for a little longer before revealing himself.
For the longest time however the pair seemed to talk together, the young woman slightly modest and subservient, and the ambassador seeming inquisitive. Unfortunately Day couldn't really make out their conversation from where he was at, something which was rather a pity. Still the behaviour of the ambassador was most odd, almost suspicious, even though as far as Day could tell nothing was exchanged between the two.
Back at the function
Feeling somewhat self-conscious Lebrija politely bowed towards Alford and whispered "It seems the Ambassador is missing Minister."
Alford broke from his current conversation with a smile, and then flicked his eyes discretely about "Yes indeed Sir Anthony, do you..." he looked hopefully at the Chief Inspector.
"The ruined mill," Lebrija said quietly.
Alford gave Lebrija a grateful look before he gracefully extracted himself from the function to go bring back the key guest, meanwhile Alfords aide helped alter the subject slightly.
The Ruin Garden
As Day watched he saw the Minister appear walking up the footpath, Day waited to see what would happen as the Minister walked up to the Ambassador and the two began to talk. They spoke for a few moments, with the slave bowing obediently at the sight of the master of the house, and then Ambassador and Minister walked back to the function leaving the woman to continue her painting.
Day quietly walked away from the spot where he'd been hiding, he was somewhat annoyed as he discovered that his ankles were quite soaked from the tall wet grass and he believed that his trousers would be stained green too typical he thought as he walked across the mossy field back to the lawn where the main function was.
As he reached the function he noticed that there was a small crowd surrounding the Minister and the Ambassador, all of them chatting amiably while sipping champagne from long crystal flutes. None of them paid any attention to him as he walked back up to the tables, Day looked at a waiter who obediently and quietly came over and handed him some wine, then he helped himself to more of the foie gras.
Suddenly he heard a voice "So what happened" it said, Day turned around to see Lebrija standing there.
"I say Sir give me a bit of a start," Day said "You mean with the ambassador and such?"
"Yes, that'd be good."
Day then quickly filled Lebrija in on what had transpired earlier, including his own suspicions in regards to the strange behaviour of the ambassador. To his own mind it was quite a queer event, who knew what these foreigners might be up to after all.
"I say!" Lebrija ejaculated as he heard about the Ambassadors queer behaviour at such a gay occasion.
Day nodded, then as he watched the ambassador he pondered "Think it's something we ought to look into Sir?"
"Very discretely, I say..." Lebrija looked at the throng around Minister Alford "I will tell the minister when it's time, Mr Day please go borrow a telephone and call Old Brick, ask them to please keep a couple of forensic magi ready..."
Day turned around and moved quietly towards the house, stopping one of the servants as he reached the area near the house "I say my good man," he said as he realised that this was a lower servant "Is there a telephone nearby?" He thought about pulling out his badge but that might cause more gossip among the servants than necessary.
The servant bowed deeply before replying "Yes Sir, there is one in the hallway for guests to use," he said.
Moments later Day was being led through the house by another servant, this was an impassive footman that seemed to have an ineffaceable arrogant sneer on his face, much like the rest of the breed wherever situated. "The telephone Sir!" he said quite unnecessarily as they reached the white ivory and brass telephone in the hallway, he then discretely held out a white gloved hand until Day absentmindedly tipped him.
He casually picked up the phone and tapped the handle till he got the operator "Give me Old Brick please," he said and then stood by for the minute or so of clicks and whooshing sounds that it took for the connection to be made. After relaying his message he carefully hung up the telephone and began to move outside, as soon as he stepped outside he looked up seeing that the sky was still cloud free but the sun was starting to move a bit and the function would probably break up soon.
Lebrija however approached him quietly "Mr Day I've spoken to the Minister, we get to interrogate the slave, Fairchild, and to search her quarters, provided of course everything is done very discretely," he said in a low voice to Day "We will begin with her quarters now, while all are busy so go ask your leave of Mrs Alford now as I have and shall act as if we are leaving."
"While we're really sticking behind to investigate Sir?" Day asked.
Lebrija just nodded in reply and the two of them then carried out their plan, Lebrija seeming to depart for his car and Day politely begging his leave claiming public affairs were alas calling and that he was saddened by this but had to so humbly beg his leave. Naturally this was granted in just as gracious a fashion as it was asked and the two of them then affected to leave.
Fairchilds Rooms
For a slave Fairchild certainly had very admirable and acceptable quarters, or rather three of them, for in addition to her bedroom which also served as her boudoir there was a sitting room and a bath. All of the rooms were carefully and lovingly furnished in a somewhat old fashioned style, but would not have been considered unacceptable for a young lady of quality. Of course Fairchild was a mage and thus among the more pampered slaves, but as they went through her quarters the two Gendarmes could not but help to reach certain conclusions.
In general it was best to search a room manually before resorting to magical tricks, and of course it would still be a while before the magi arrived. The parlour was a perfectly ordinary one of the sort that any young lady or favoured slave might have, there was a couple of low tables, some womens' magazines, a couch and of course a nice little piano.
Day picked up one of the Magazines "Bondswoman Magazine," he read out loud as he flipped through some of the articles it was the usual things though; how to avoid pregnancies, notes on make-up, and a couple of articles on covering up bruises, one of them was really an ad for a face cream. Most of it was of course rather upper class since only the most high classed bondswomen would ever be allowed, or able, to read such a magazine. A few of the articles seemed a bit strange though, but he didn't really have time to read them and let the magazine fall after flipping through it to see if anything had been marked or written in it.
The bathroom wasn't too interesting either, it was the standard marble and brass design that was so popular twenty years ago, and was having a revival now. Aside from a lot of expensive perfumed shampoos and soaps they found nothing of interest there.
The bedroom however was where the interest lay, there was of course a large four post bed with fine white linens on it and several large fluffy down pillows, the mattress was, they soon ascertained that it was spring loaded. The rest of the room was marked by a rather large vanity table with a plethora of drawers in it, and of course a large wardrobe made from hardwood. Other than that the room was sparsely decorated, aside from a single painting on the wall depicting a Saint.
"Saint Margaret of Cortona" Inspector Lebrija said, he rubbed his chin slowly as he studied the picture "An interesting choice." A look almost like pity crossed his face, and then he walked directly over to the bed and began to examine the linens carefully. After a few minutes of study her threw them slightly aside and pointed at a couple of tell tale dried stains.
Day shrugged at this revelation "I figured as much the moment I saw this..." he motioned around the room.
"I had hopes her medical service might preclude..." Lebrija stopped least he be caught in an indiscrete statement.
"Sir?"
"Examine the vanity table Mr Day."
As asked Day began to examine the vanity table, it was quite large and had many drawers, and of course as was the wont of the age there were several of them that were cunningly concealed. Within he found a lot of make up and perfume, more than any decent woman would ever have, and quite a substantial amount of jewellery much of it of a surpassing quality.
Lebrija meanwhile walked back to the wall, he looked at the painting of Saint Margaret for a while, then he reached out and turned it around, it was quite easy to do so and he carefully studied the string by which it hung. "Hmmmmm," he said as he saw that it was worn, as if the painting had been turned around many times before.
Even so they found nothing incriminating, even the wardrobe included nothing out of the ordinary, though some of the garments that they found were no doubt expensive but also of such a nature that Day raised his eyebrow and smirked slightly. They did find one odd thing though, leaned against the back of the wardrobe was a single painting, depicting a young slave girl maybe 12 or 13, she looked very innocent and stood in an area that was unmistakable part of Alford House's estate.
"A certain family resemblance don't you think Mr Day?" Lebrija asked casually as he studied the painting "A sister or a daughter perhaps?"
"A sister maybe Sir, but..."
"Magic Mr Day, magic, I would venture that our Fairchild is far older than she looks."
At this moment they were interrupted by a knock on the door, Day walked over to it and opened it revealing a middle-aged man, rather non-descript, wearing a neat suit and carrying a large leather brief case. "I am Victor Blythe, Magi Inspector, I believe you required our service?" he said as he extended his hand to Day.
"Detective Inspector Day," Day replied shaking Blythe's hand, it was smooth but the handshake was dry and hard.
"Mr Blythe," Lebrija called out from within the room "Glad to see it's you they sent," as Blythe walked into the room Lebrija indicated the bed "Just two things check if those stains on the sheets are what we think they are, and then see if anything's been magically concealed."
Walking over to Day he added "Mr Day, take the magazines with us, I am sure Fairchild can replace them but Blythe there has spells to tell us which pages have received most attention."
Day nodded to this, looking questioningly at Blythe who was currently weaving his magic, making the stains on the sheets blow a soft blue.
"Yes Sir, they're exactly what you think, and now for the room," Blythe's hands moved in peculiar patterns hard to describe, and then he shook his head "Nothing Sir, what you see is what you get I fear."
"Then it's time to interrogate Fairchild herself..." Lebrija said sadly, "I'll see what we can do."
Later in the evening
Though discretion, that is the need to avoid scandal, was imperative a constructive compromise had been reached. Like many mansions Alford House had a punishment room, sometimes called the Woodshed, where disobedient slaves would be sent if their offence was too big to warrant simply a cuffing, but too slight to warrant a flogging before the staff. This room usually occupied a place of dread in the household mythology, indeed the nickname was actually quite apropos because most punishments would be slight, indeed the fear of the place and having to wait there is often as bad as the punishment itself.
As such it was an excellent place to interrogate Fairchild, who did indeed seem gratifyingly worried as she sat on the three legged stool, swallowing a bit and tried to crane her neck to keep watching Lebrija as he walked around her.
"Fairchild, I hope you understand that you are in some trouble," he told her in a fatherly concerned tone of voice.
"I see Sir," Fairchild said, she trembled slightly from the cold, white fog rising from her lips for they were close to the basement.
"Do you?" Lebrija asked somewhat sternly "You must answer our questions now, truthfully and in full, do not lie for we will know if you do."
"I understand Sir," Fairchild said as she steeled herself for the questions, but as someone born a gentlewoman she was determined not to lie except in extremis. Of course since she was enslaved lies came easier certainly one lie has come easy enough but she suppressed that thought.
They asked her several questions, most of which she answered easily enough, telling truthfully that she had not made any plans for the meeting and was simply painting the ruin garden to pass time while she waited. She had been instructed to stay nearby in case there was a medical emergency, but not mingle with the crowd since the Thersonians didn't like slavery much. After that she recounted the events of the day describing the conversation with the ambassador in as much detail as she could, all the while pleading that she never told them anything out of the ordinary.
"With whom do you fornicate," Lebrija asked, feeling somewhat disquieted that he had to, but the question did matter.
"I... I can't tell you Sir," Fairchild said, her lips quivering a bit as she spoke.
"You can and you must, we need to know if it is just one or more," he continued Pity, no doubt she was once a virtuous and chaste woman, but now... not her fault but that can't be helped
"You don't understand Sir," she pleaded, trying to hint that she had promised silence.
Lebrija shook his head sadly, he then gently patted her shoulder, feeling how she tensed "I will go for some tea, I hope you will reconsider by the time I return," he then walked towards the door, then as he opened it he gave Day a little nod.
Outside the door he summoned a servant for some tea, and then paced the corridor a bit, there was the occasional screech that escaped through the door. As the servant arrived with the tea Lebrija took it and tasted it, his mouth felt so filled with bile that he had to take six lumps of sugar in it before he could swallow. Finally he re-entered the room.
Fairchild was shivering and clutching her belly, a slight smudge of vomit was in the right corner of her mouth and down her jaw. Lebrija frowned as he walked around the small pool of it laying on the ground, then he sat down in front of her and asked gently "Please, who?"
"Peter Alford," Fairchild croaked out.
Lebrija nodded "The son of the house?"
"Yes Sir"
"Anyone else?"
"No Sir, I am not some wanton."
Lebrija didn't look at Blythe, he didn't have to in order to know the truth, he just nodded, then he smiled at her again "I know, I know".
"The girl in the painting?"
"My daughter Sir, she was sold around that time, nearly ten years ago."
The next questions were more probing into other areas, and Fairchild answered all of them promptly and truthfully, though appearing a bit queasy at times.
Afterwards the three Gendarmes picked up and left, but in the hallway Lebrija was sure to remind them "What she said of Peter Alford, that is of course a strictly private matter." Both of them nodded to this, even if they wondered why he'd even bring it up, obviously it went without saying that whatever the Heir to the Manor did to someone like Fairchild was simply a fact of life.
Alfords Office
Alfords office was the very model of a ministers home office, a thick carpet to absorb any sounds so that any debate within would not be audible outside the room. The walls were lined with oak bookshelves containing thick leather bound volumes on law and history, especially the history and correspondence of past Foreign Ministers. The chairs were deep and comfortable, and there was always small tables nearby where a visiting gentleman could rest his cognac snifter.
"At any rate Minister I dare say that nothing inappropriate was said or done by Fairchild, and I would hazard that the Ambassador simply wandered off," Lebrija commented.
Alford nodded as always, but he still seemed worried "That may be Sir Anthony, but if someone were to try something against the ambassador there could be trouble, and of course the ..." he motioned with his hand "The abolitionists are bound to try something, even if there was no true danger today then." He trailed off "I should appreciate it if you would keep an eye on this situation."
"Why me Minister, I am certain that BOSS for all their lack of subtlety would be better equipped," Lebrija said, despite not liking BOSS he had to admit that this sounded like their bailiwick.
Alford shook his head a couple of times "No, not them, not now, I need someone I can trust, Sir Anthony, or Chief Inspector Lebrija, the Gendarmes have a mandate for this kind of thing."
"I see Minister, in that case I have to ask if I will have your support?"
"Of course Sir Anthony, whatever you need."
"I see, then there are three things a formal document granting me status of a Cabinet Agent, then I need to borrow Fairchild, and have access to Fairchilds daughter" Lebrija requested.
Alford blinked, clearly a tad surprised "I can certainly grant you the first item, and even the second to some degree, but the third... she was sold nearly a decade ago and though I suppose I could buy her back," he seemed embarrassed "Very well ... though I should like to know why since it may affect ..."
Lebrija leaned forward and explained his idea in some detail, much to the surprise of Alford who though he could appreciate the suggestions seemed a tad taken aback.
"It's a gamble," Alford finally announced "Yet I'm willing to risk it," he said as he began to write out the necessary documentation.
The Case of the Mysterious Ambassador Part II
Pendleton
Erde
Sunday 10 April 1005 NE
St Georges Cathedral
The St George Cathedral was perhaps one of the finest examples of Old Pendleton, built by the Pendle Dynasty prior to the rise of the Republic, and the Kings of Pendleton were still buried in dynastic vaults beneath the Cathedrals altar.
The style of the construction was very old, and in stark contrast to the famed Gothic churches that otherwise marked Pendleton proper, built in the old style as a domed basilica. Indeed the original floor plan of the Church had only been changed in that pews had been introduced at some point in the centuries gone by since its construction, and this novelty had at the time caused a near revolution.
The enormous dome was nearly a hundred yards wide coated in leaf gold that made it glitter and shine like a second sun during the day, surrounding the base of the massive dome were a plethora of windows letting in beams of light that illuminated the interior of the Cathedral in an almost magical fashion.
The interior of the Cathedral was also quite awe inspiring, the roofs and the walls had been covered in extensive murals of a magnificent nature depicting the Creation, Biblical scenes, and concluding over the altar with the Resurrection and Final Judgement. The paintings were of an amazingly lifelike quality, well balanced and proportioned and free of the excessive gilding and expensive colouring that mars many other Pendleton churches. This then was the master piece of famed painter and sculptor Vincent de Couronne.
Along the sides of the walls in small niches there were shrines to various saints, some small and some larger but all tasteful depicting the saints with pious almost melancholy expressions. Before each saint there were tables filled with flickering candles and incense sticks, while the niche itself was often covered in flower garlands and tiny devotional cards stuck into the cracks between the stones. Many saints were popular here, but here as elsewhere the Fourteen Holy Helpers received the most attention and St Elmo stood to the fore of all of them as the patron of sailors.
The patron saint of the Church was honoured by two enormous painted bas reliefs carved around the sides of the altar, both depicting the great triumphs of St George. The first depicted his famous slaying of the dragon, flames sprouting from its mouth and the blonde and pious St George driving his lance into its heart as it seemed to almost squirm in the throes of death. The second depicted his greatest triumph that is his martyrdom at the hands of the Heathen.
Sitting in the gallery high above the regular seats Mary Fairchild was praying, leaning forward from her front seat she was resting her elbows against the gallery railing, a rosary in her folded hands her lips moved silently as the rosary moved around her hands. She had been given leave to come early, so here she was dressed in her Sunday finery, a lovely silken dress of an elegant cut that would not look out of place on any Gentlewoman. Yet despite her finery if anyone but God and his Saints could see her now their hearts would surely go out to her for on her face was an expression of such shame and suffering mixed with pious repentance that she looked like an icon of Mary Magdalen come to life.
All around here was the slightly musty smell of the ancient church it was just barely detectable beneath the thick incense scent, as a cloud covered the sun for a moment her face was bathed in the flickering light of the candles. She looked down at the handful of pious worshippers, mostly old women, who had arrived hours before the mass begun to pray and to stuff prayer cards into the cracks between the stones near the saints.
She started slightly as she heard a voice behind her "It's alright now Fairchild?" Turning around she saw the ambling shape of her chaperone, another Mary namely Mary Cook. Poor Mary Cook had never been a beauty or skilled in other ways and thus her youth had been allowed to fade away so that at age fifty her hair was greying and her features wrinkled. She smiled at Mary though, showing her yellowing teeth, before she added "You seemed so sad."
"It's fine Mary," Fairchild said trying to smile and seem happier despite her real emotions, her nose wrinkled a bit though despite herself as she smelled the tobacco, poor Mary Cook was unfortunately an addict to the tobacco devil and would whenever an opportunity opened pop away and light up her clay pipe and smoke some of that awful weed.
Mary Cook sat down in the pew directly behind Fairchild, ordinarily she'd never have dared, or been allowed to, sit so far to the front but in this case it was fine as she was being a Chaperone. "Sure is nice sitting up here, getting to see everything just fine, not like way back where's I usually sit," she mused as she peered at the churchgoers, Fairchild just nodded to this, but then Mary Cooked leaned forward and whispered "Getting to look down on the masters, literally so."
For the first time Fairchilds smile was genuine, even as she hid it with her hand "Oh please Mary Cook, you shouldn't say such things," she whispered back but she also stifled a giggle.
"Oh, old Mary Cook is just a crazy old slave, she can say what she want and no one cares," Mary Cook said back and winked a bit at Fairchild, glad that she felt better for Fairchild had been there since Mary Cook was a little girl and the former noble had always been kind to Cook.
Now however the other slaves begun to amble in and the conversation stopped, the more attractive women and important men sat down in the first three rows, occasionally mixed in with a slightly more dour chaperone escorting a favoured slave. All of them were dressed in splendid clothes, though lacking jewellery of course, and if not for the place they sat and the exposed ankles of the women one might think them an assembly of Gentlefolk.
Fairchild recognised a fair number of them and returned their greetings politely, even engaging in a low conversation with a couple of friends of hers from another household. They spoke very little though, respecting the sanctity of the Cathedral, but a few whispered messages were exchanged and there would be time for gossip later on.
Beneath them the elaborate filling of the Cathedral began to take place, and this was always an interesting sight, for first the rear pews would be taken up by poor freefolk and by less fortunate slaves that were still presentable. They would have to hurry to be able to get into the Church for if they were not quick there would be no more available seats, and even the poorest worker liked to say "I go to St George's."
Then came the middle-classes, respectable men and women in elegant attire, husbands leading their wives and sufficiently beatific looking children in sailor costumes for the boys and those cute dresses finished with a big bow in the hair for the girls. Their show however was limited by time and by custom, but before they entered they would have exchanged greetings outside the Church, and even inside it they would give low almost invisible bows to anyone they recognised.
Now came the nobles, the rich merchants, the old gentry, and all the peoples that made up the upper classes. Their entrance was a grand train of splendid dresses and ornate suits, jewellery and twinkling order medals and ribbons. They were all hale and healthy of course, with the beauty, even if it was mature beauty in some cases, that only the wealthy could afford and maintain. As they advanced up the isle of the Church they were the focus of everyone's attention, with every woman noticing the latest fashions of the upper classes and her husband groaning at the thought of paying to emulate them, but also with the men hungrily eying the order ribbons and dreaming of ascending the social ladder.
The Alfords followed closely behind the family of the Prime Minister, and so did the ambassadors of the Christian powers. Fairchild noted absentmindedly that Peter Alford, Minister Alford's son, was looking quite handsome and secretly admired by many of the women even in the front pews and why can't he be satisfied with one of them? Fairchild thought even as she admired the procession.
Hours earlier...
She had been given leave to attend mass on Sunday, as usual, but unlike the rest of the family who was free to travel around and make their confession any day of the week Fairchild had to make hers before Mass on Sunday. T'was not a great imposition though as she had leave to go a few hours before the rest of the household, only trailing Mary Cook with her as her chaperone.
As always the area around the confessional booths was rather crowded, a motley collection of slaves who had not had a chance to confess earlier in the day, and now felt rather guilty and bothered, mostly not speaking or greeting each other except in a slightly awkward fashion. Fairchild herself had found a quiet corner and waited there, recounting her sins in her mind while waiting for a booth to be available.
Her mind was filled with these thoughts, and she did not really notice the splendour of the Cathedral, or the sounds of whispered voices, nor even the odd interested look some of the young men sent her. She felt weighed down with her sins, and stained by them, so that they even overshadowed the slight stinging sensation that still resided in her stomach after last night.
Finally she found an opening and entered the booth, finding herself in half darkness for a moment, immediately she kneeled in front of the grille and made the sign of the cross as she said "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It is a week since my last Confession. I accuse myself of the following sins."
"I have committed fornication on eight occasions, where I, I also, I also committed the sin of granting oral satisfaction on those occasions, and throughout I used certain drugs of a contraceptive nature."
"I... I have received many gifts from this man, and I believe his affection in this regard is due to the sinful nature of the services I provide him, and I... I think this is a form of prostution."
"My child are you a slave," came the voice from the other side of the grille, it sounded almost tired and sad.
"Yes Father."
"Was the man with whom you fornicated your master?"
"No Father it was the son of my master."
"I see, and if you had refused do you believe he would have punished you."
"The first couple of times I resisted and was beaten, but since then I have given the appearance of acceptance and enjoyment, adding lies to my list of sins Father."
"I see... My Child is there any way you could in truth have turned down his gifts without causing grave offence?"
"No Father."
"Then pray continue your confession my child..."
"For certain reasons outside my control I was interrogated by the Gendarmes, they asked me ... they knew I was a fornicator and wished to know who the man was, and I did not answer promptly, and so I confess disobedience towards rightful authority."
"I have also broken a promise, for I had promised my masters son not to speak to any outsider of our relationship, and this sin also weighs on me Father."
Once more the voice from the other side of the grille interjected "My child, if I have this right you were beaten because you were too slow in answering a question, and you only answered because you were beaten?"
"Yes Father."
"I see, pray continue."
"I have at times, eight or ten, after my sins been angry and have been angry at other servants of the house, yelling at them or making nasty remarks."
"When you say after your sins what do you mean?" the voice asked.
"I mean that, after I have done these acts, these carnal acts, I feel very bad, and often I grow angry and snap at anyone nearby on the slightest pretext Father."
"I see, continue my Child."
Fairchild thought for a moment, then she completed her confession "For these and all the sins of my past life, I ask pardon of God, penance, and absolution from you, Father."
The priest responded simply "May the Almighty God have mercy on you, and forgiving your sins, bring you to life everlasting. Amen."
"Amen" Fairchild repeated.
Then he continued "May the Almighty and Merciful God grant you pardon, absolution, and remission of your sins. You should recite 14 Hail Mary's and 2 Our Fathers for your sins, then consider the implications of what you have done. You should never seek out this mans affections, and try in as much as possible to deflect them without rising his ire, but the sin of the matter is upon him and not you."
Even though she had often received that very same advice and mild penance Fairchild could not quite believe that her sins could be so easily washed away, and yet she felt immensely relieved as she did the Act of Contrition
"O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee and I detest all my sins because of Thy just punishments, but most of all because they offend Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace, to sin no more and avoid the near occasions of sin. Amen."
Even as she finished her own prayer she could hear the priest whispering the absolution "May our Lord Jesus Christ absolve you; and by His authority I absolve you from every bond of excommunication and interdict, so far as my power allows and your needs require. Thereupon, I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen."
Then he began the traditional prayer "May the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ, the merits of the Blessed Virgin Mary and of all the saints obtain for you that whatever good you do or whatever evil you bear might merit for you the remission of your sins, the increase of grace and the reward of everlasting life."
"Go in peace," the priest said.
"Thank you Father," Fairchild said as she crossed herself, then as she rose and opened the door to the confessional she added "There are maybe a score or so waiting in line."
"Thank you my Child," the priest answered as she departed to go back to the gallery.
The Present...
The mass begun auspiciously enough with the Asperges, where the church and congregation was sprinkled with holy water as the priest and choir chanted. Then it proceeded through the Mass of the Catechumens, Fairchild only half listened having heard it thousands of times before, but still being comforted by the familiar words.
When it came time for the public confession the entire congregation arose to their feet and recited "I confess to Almighty God, to Blessed Mary ever Virgin, to Blessed Michael the Archangel, to Blessed John the Baptist, to the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul, to all the angels and saints, and to you my brothers and sisters, that I have sinned exceedingly in thought, word, deed."
Fairchild, and the entire congregation, struck their chests three times, she struck hard struggling keep her hand from trembling as they continued by reciting "Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault, and I ask Blessed Mary ever Virgin, Blessed Michael the Archangel, Blessed John the Baptist, the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul, all the Angels and Saints, and you my brothers and sisters, to pray for me to the Lord our God."
From his place by the altar the priest called out "May Almighty God have mercy on you, forgive you your sins, and bring you to everlasting life." His voice rang out clearly across the Cathedral, a result of clever arrangement of Hermatite plates so that if you stood at the pulpit or in certain areas around the altar your voice would spread clearly across the Cathedral.
"Amen"
"May the Almighty and Merciful Lord grant us pardon," the priest made the sign of the cross "absolution, and remission of our sins."
Once more the congregation called out "Amen."
The public confession always made her feel better, and as the mass continued her spirits were raised. The ritual was beautiful and ancient, left untouched since the time before the so called God War, a sign of stability, of eternity even, and the elaborate vestments and elaborate ritual gave taste of Heaven upon Earth, and for the slaves assembled far more than for the free folk it was a beacon of hope for deliverance.
As the Kyrie Eleison and Christie Eleison begun she felt a sense of near ecstatic joy in her heart, it was as if a fire had been lit in her heart and her very being felt as if it was lifted upwards towards the heavens. She was scarcely the only one to feel so, for the transcendent power of the ritual would fill even the most hardened heart, so that you might taste Heaven on Earth.
Then the preparations for the Sacrament of Communion began, as he prepared the Host the priest said out loud "Who, the day before He suffered, took bread into His holy and venerable hands, and having raised His eyes to heaven to you, God, His Almighty Father, giving thanks to You, He blessed," he made the sign of the cross "it broke it, and gave it to His disciples, saying: 'Take and eat of this, all of you,'"
"HOC EST ENIM CORPUS MEUM," he called as he held the host up high and the kneeling congregation bowed their heads in adoration.
"Similarly, when the supper was ended, taking also this goodly chalice into His holy and venerable hands, again giving thanks to You, He blessed it, and gave it to His disciples, saying: 'Take and drink of this, all of you,'"
As he prepared the chalice holding the sacramental wine he called "HIC EST ENIM CALIX SANGUINIS MEI, NOVI ET AETERNI TESTAMENTI: MYSTERIUM FIDEI: QUI PRO VOBIS ET PRO MULTIS EFFUNDETUR IN REMISSIONEM PECCATORUM. Haec quotiescumque feceritis, in mei memoriam facietis." Then he lifted the chalice with the Blood of Christ up high to be adored.
The rest of the preparations for the Communion continued, the call to the saints and the Elevation proceeded as it always did, and all the rest of the precious rite transforming bread and wine into the actual flesh and blood of Christ. Fairchild listened only with half an ear, waiting for the Our Father and the signal that those desiring Communion should advance.
Then the priest called out "Behold the Lamb of God, behold Him who takes away the sins of the world."
All then recited together "Lord, I am not worthy that You should come under my roof. But say the word and my soul will be healed." Repeating it aloud three times before the members of the congregation would approach the altar railing.
Even in Church, as everywhere else in Pendleton, there was strict hierarchy here as to who should advance first, especially since there was somewhat limited space by the alter railing so only a certain number could kneel there at once. In theory of course all were equal before the eyes of God, but in practise the further forward you sat the better of you were in the secular world.
Now then the nobles, the ministers, the great merchants and the old gentry advanced first, in a rigid order, kneeling before the altar railing and wait to receive the Communion Host. Then as they finished could the lower gentry, the lesser merchants and the middle classes approach. After them came the lower classes, wearing their Sunday fineries which were often the ill fitting but fancy cast offs of their betters purchased at high cost at pawn shops and merchandises. Finally, at the very end, came the slaves such as Fairchild, their heads low and their attitudes humble and meek as they proceeded to the altar railing.
Fairchild knelt before the altar railing, her head was low and she felt ashamed that her skirt was so short before the altar, but she knew the word of St Paul "Wast thou called, being a bondman? Care not for it: but if thou mayest be made free, use it rather." So she accepted her lot in life as it were.
The priest walked over to her and held up the host, she opened her mouth a bit and he placed the host upon her tongue saying "May the Body of our Lord Jesus Christ preserve your soul unto everlasting life." She scarcely noticed the paten being held under her cheek as she accepted the host.
"Amen," she said as she swallowed it, the dry thin host seemed to half melt and half cling to the top of her mouth as she swallowed, making her right glad that discretely nearby stood a fellow offering each of the Communicants a goblet of un-consecrated wine to help swallow the host properly. Least someone choke on it, and thereby prove themselves guilty of some heinous crime. As she drank she found that the wine for the slaves was sour and bitter and she scarcely managed more than a mouthful before returning the goblet and then proceeding back to her seat.
As she walked down the isle she noticed something, something that excited and yet deeply disturbed her. At once she noticed the Thersonian ambassador, a handsome man, as flesh ages he was in his mid thirties and clean shaven. He was wearing an formal suit in the Germanic style with a cross shaped medal hanging from his neck.
From other men she noticed that they peered at her exposed ankles, and then her waist, her rear, her bosom and finally perhaps her face and even in a sacred place they had lust in their eyes. However from the ambassador she noticed that he gazed into her eyes, and their eyes met for a moment and something happened, whether it was pity or some other affection she knew not but she felt a momentous event had taken place.
As she ascended up the gallery she did not however suspect the train of events that she had just triggered, but from that moment forward things moved like a mobilization plan where none of the sides were really free to deviate in the least way.
The Gentry's Seats
Sitting in the front of the Gentry's seats there were two men in nice suits, one a Platan gentleman and the other apparently a native Pendletonian. It was of course Chief Inspector Lebrija and Inspector Day come to attend Mass, but also to keep an eye on the Thersonian ambassador. Fairchild had slowed down slightly near said ambassador, and for the briefest fraction of a second a peculiar expression crossed her eyes.
"Interesting," Lebrija said in a low cautious voice that even Day had to strain to hear.
Day's eyes followed Fairchild closely, a light smirk on his lips suggested that his interest was not entirely professional or pious "Mmmhmmm," was all he said in reply.
Lebrija's eyes went up to the gallery, his eyebrow arches slightly and then returned to Day, in response Day nodded slightly just once, it was all taken care of.
Later - Outside of the Cathedral
The crowds milled out from the Cathedral looking relieved to have mended their relationship with God or perhaps to have escaped from the dreary service. Watching the milling crowd were Inspectors Lebrija and Day, Lebrija casually slid a match across the rough surface of a nearby brick building and then lit the cigarillo firmly clenched between his teeth.
"Mr Day," Lebrija said as he took out the cigarillo and held it between his index and middle finger, the smoke drifting lazily upwards "Please go see your informant, I will speak to the Minister."
"Here Sir?" Day asked casually as he nodded towards the minister.
"No, here would cause too many questions to be asked, I'll see about a quick meeting elsewhere," Lebrija "Mr Day, if I'm not back in two hours could you please head over to Father Wensleys house and make sure all is well?"
"Of course Sir, I'll get right to it in fact."
"Please do," Lebrija said as he wandered of in direction of his Dobble steamer, his chauffeur had already gotten a head of steam built up and the fine sedan was ready to go.
Day meanwhile went to have a pleasant little chat with his informer, he walked through a long narrow dark alley, it was filled with junk and the rats peered at him fearlessly as if sizing him up. Indeed in the shadows there were no doubt two legged rats sizing him up too, however Day was a big fellow the bulge in his jacket suggested a revolver, so they backed off seeking easier prey elsewhere.
In a small square behind the Cathedral there stood a young man smoking nervously, he was maybe in his early twenties as the flesh ages anyway, his clothes fitted him nicely and were of a quality suggesting a man of means. Yet the moment he saw Day he dropped the cigarette on the ground and rubbed it out beneath the heel of his shoe, then he bowed politely to Day not raising his eyes. To a Pendletonian seeing someone stub out a cigarette like that meant they just saw a social superior, and the submissive air tinged with fear only meant one thing, a slave.
"Hey Benny," Day said in a seemingly friendly voice that did little to calm the young man down.
"Sir, I... I did everything you asked, I stayed right behind her a... behind."
"You can say ass Benny, it's a good biblical word, so..." Day leaned close "Did you waste all your time watching her ass or did you see something worth reporting?"
"Sir really I... I mean I think she's got this thing for Peter Alford, she's banging him I mean, and she's got something for that ambassador from the stars."
"Really?"
"I think so, I mean I'm not sure but she paid attention to him, and I hear she talked to him."
"You hear a lot Benny."
"Yes Sir, I tell you everything too."
"The Hell you do, but right now I don't give a damn about your little deals, or your obnoxious master for that sake, but I do want to know everything that happened around the girl."
Benny spoke at length giving the name, and owner, of every person he had seen speaking to Fairchild, and Inspector Day was only too willing to write it all down in his little leather bound notebook.
Ministry of Foreign Affairs
The Foreign Ministers office was more or less indistinguishable from that of any other man of means, power and taste in Pendleton. Bookshelves filled with leatherbound expensive books, large recliner chairs for guests, and of course a large oaken desk behind which the great man himself would sit.
"Are you certain Sir Anthony?" Alford asked cautiously, even though he had few hopes that this would be so.
"Yes Minister, there's really not much doubt, and so I come to you about the matter we spoke on," Lebrija said.
"Of course," Alford picked up his diamond tipped fountain pen and wrote two documents before he signed them and applied his seal, then he shoved them over the table so Lebrija could see them "Is this sufficient Sir Anthony?"
"Yes Minister that will be... quite sufficient"
"Good," Alford said as he rang the bell "Some brandy while we wait for the ink to dry?"
"Capital, absolutely capital."
Thersonian Embassy
"There is something so melancholy about her," William von Herzog mused as he looked out the large parlour window, with its excellent view of Old Pendleton.
"Sir?" Oberst Waldow asked.
"You know if we are to do our duty properly we would need a mage... to help explain in detail what magic can do on this world and to... act as a guide of sorts," von Herzog was thinking quietly now for a while "Do you think they'd let us have the services of a native mage?"
"I cannot say for certain but I dare say they would" Waldow replied "You're not suggesting..."
"But I am, and given the circumstances this world seems to be in I dare say that Minister Alford would let us borrow Fairchild," von Herzog commented "At the very least it won't hurt to ask when I next meet him."
"I suppose not," Waldow conceded after a while.
Von Herzog smiled widely as he held up a Schnapps glass "Then it's settled! PRUSS!" he called as he tipped the glass back and emptied it.
Erde
Sunday 10 April 1005 NE
St Georges Cathedral
The St George Cathedral was perhaps one of the finest examples of Old Pendleton, built by the Pendle Dynasty prior to the rise of the Republic, and the Kings of Pendleton were still buried in dynastic vaults beneath the Cathedrals altar.
The style of the construction was very old, and in stark contrast to the famed Gothic churches that otherwise marked Pendleton proper, built in the old style as a domed basilica. Indeed the original floor plan of the Church had only been changed in that pews had been introduced at some point in the centuries gone by since its construction, and this novelty had at the time caused a near revolution.
The enormous dome was nearly a hundred yards wide coated in leaf gold that made it glitter and shine like a second sun during the day, surrounding the base of the massive dome were a plethora of windows letting in beams of light that illuminated the interior of the Cathedral in an almost magical fashion.
The interior of the Cathedral was also quite awe inspiring, the roofs and the walls had been covered in extensive murals of a magnificent nature depicting the Creation, Biblical scenes, and concluding over the altar with the Resurrection and Final Judgement. The paintings were of an amazingly lifelike quality, well balanced and proportioned and free of the excessive gilding and expensive colouring that mars many other Pendleton churches. This then was the master piece of famed painter and sculptor Vincent de Couronne.
Along the sides of the walls in small niches there were shrines to various saints, some small and some larger but all tasteful depicting the saints with pious almost melancholy expressions. Before each saint there were tables filled with flickering candles and incense sticks, while the niche itself was often covered in flower garlands and tiny devotional cards stuck into the cracks between the stones. Many saints were popular here, but here as elsewhere the Fourteen Holy Helpers received the most attention and St Elmo stood to the fore of all of them as the patron of sailors.
The patron saint of the Church was honoured by two enormous painted bas reliefs carved around the sides of the altar, both depicting the great triumphs of St George. The first depicted his famous slaying of the dragon, flames sprouting from its mouth and the blonde and pious St George driving his lance into its heart as it seemed to almost squirm in the throes of death. The second depicted his greatest triumph that is his martyrdom at the hands of the Heathen.
Sitting in the gallery high above the regular seats Mary Fairchild was praying, leaning forward from her front seat she was resting her elbows against the gallery railing, a rosary in her folded hands her lips moved silently as the rosary moved around her hands. She had been given leave to come early, so here she was dressed in her Sunday finery, a lovely silken dress of an elegant cut that would not look out of place on any Gentlewoman. Yet despite her finery if anyone but God and his Saints could see her now their hearts would surely go out to her for on her face was an expression of such shame and suffering mixed with pious repentance that she looked like an icon of Mary Magdalen come to life.
All around here was the slightly musty smell of the ancient church it was just barely detectable beneath the thick incense scent, as a cloud covered the sun for a moment her face was bathed in the flickering light of the candles. She looked down at the handful of pious worshippers, mostly old women, who had arrived hours before the mass begun to pray and to stuff prayer cards into the cracks between the stones near the saints.
She started slightly as she heard a voice behind her "It's alright now Fairchild?" Turning around she saw the ambling shape of her chaperone, another Mary namely Mary Cook. Poor Mary Cook had never been a beauty or skilled in other ways and thus her youth had been allowed to fade away so that at age fifty her hair was greying and her features wrinkled. She smiled at Mary though, showing her yellowing teeth, before she added "You seemed so sad."
"It's fine Mary," Fairchild said trying to smile and seem happier despite her real emotions, her nose wrinkled a bit though despite herself as she smelled the tobacco, poor Mary Cook was unfortunately an addict to the tobacco devil and would whenever an opportunity opened pop away and light up her clay pipe and smoke some of that awful weed.
Mary Cook sat down in the pew directly behind Fairchild, ordinarily she'd never have dared, or been allowed to, sit so far to the front but in this case it was fine as she was being a Chaperone. "Sure is nice sitting up here, getting to see everything just fine, not like way back where's I usually sit," she mused as she peered at the churchgoers, Fairchild just nodded to this, but then Mary Cooked leaned forward and whispered "Getting to look down on the masters, literally so."
For the first time Fairchilds smile was genuine, even as she hid it with her hand "Oh please Mary Cook, you shouldn't say such things," she whispered back but she also stifled a giggle.
"Oh, old Mary Cook is just a crazy old slave, she can say what she want and no one cares," Mary Cook said back and winked a bit at Fairchild, glad that she felt better for Fairchild had been there since Mary Cook was a little girl and the former noble had always been kind to Cook.
Now however the other slaves begun to amble in and the conversation stopped, the more attractive women and important men sat down in the first three rows, occasionally mixed in with a slightly more dour chaperone escorting a favoured slave. All of them were dressed in splendid clothes, though lacking jewellery of course, and if not for the place they sat and the exposed ankles of the women one might think them an assembly of Gentlefolk.
Fairchild recognised a fair number of them and returned their greetings politely, even engaging in a low conversation with a couple of friends of hers from another household. They spoke very little though, respecting the sanctity of the Cathedral, but a few whispered messages were exchanged and there would be time for gossip later on.
Beneath them the elaborate filling of the Cathedral began to take place, and this was always an interesting sight, for first the rear pews would be taken up by poor freefolk and by less fortunate slaves that were still presentable. They would have to hurry to be able to get into the Church for if they were not quick there would be no more available seats, and even the poorest worker liked to say "I go to St George's."
Then came the middle-classes, respectable men and women in elegant attire, husbands leading their wives and sufficiently beatific looking children in sailor costumes for the boys and those cute dresses finished with a big bow in the hair for the girls. Their show however was limited by time and by custom, but before they entered they would have exchanged greetings outside the Church, and even inside it they would give low almost invisible bows to anyone they recognised.
Now came the nobles, the rich merchants, the old gentry, and all the peoples that made up the upper classes. Their entrance was a grand train of splendid dresses and ornate suits, jewellery and twinkling order medals and ribbons. They were all hale and healthy of course, with the beauty, even if it was mature beauty in some cases, that only the wealthy could afford and maintain. As they advanced up the isle of the Church they were the focus of everyone's attention, with every woman noticing the latest fashions of the upper classes and her husband groaning at the thought of paying to emulate them, but also with the men hungrily eying the order ribbons and dreaming of ascending the social ladder.
The Alfords followed closely behind the family of the Prime Minister, and so did the ambassadors of the Christian powers. Fairchild noted absentmindedly that Peter Alford, Minister Alford's son, was looking quite handsome and secretly admired by many of the women even in the front pews and why can't he be satisfied with one of them? Fairchild thought even as she admired the procession.
Hours earlier...
She had been given leave to attend mass on Sunday, as usual, but unlike the rest of the family who was free to travel around and make their confession any day of the week Fairchild had to make hers before Mass on Sunday. T'was not a great imposition though as she had leave to go a few hours before the rest of the household, only trailing Mary Cook with her as her chaperone.
As always the area around the confessional booths was rather crowded, a motley collection of slaves who had not had a chance to confess earlier in the day, and now felt rather guilty and bothered, mostly not speaking or greeting each other except in a slightly awkward fashion. Fairchild herself had found a quiet corner and waited there, recounting her sins in her mind while waiting for a booth to be available.
Her mind was filled with these thoughts, and she did not really notice the splendour of the Cathedral, or the sounds of whispered voices, nor even the odd interested look some of the young men sent her. She felt weighed down with her sins, and stained by them, so that they even overshadowed the slight stinging sensation that still resided in her stomach after last night.
Finally she found an opening and entered the booth, finding herself in half darkness for a moment, immediately she kneeled in front of the grille and made the sign of the cross as she said "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It is a week since my last Confession. I accuse myself of the following sins."
"I have committed fornication on eight occasions, where I, I also, I also committed the sin of granting oral satisfaction on those occasions, and throughout I used certain drugs of a contraceptive nature."
"I... I have received many gifts from this man, and I believe his affection in this regard is due to the sinful nature of the services I provide him, and I... I think this is a form of prostution."
"My child are you a slave," came the voice from the other side of the grille, it sounded almost tired and sad.
"Yes Father."
"Was the man with whom you fornicated your master?"
"No Father it was the son of my master."
"I see, and if you had refused do you believe he would have punished you."
"The first couple of times I resisted and was beaten, but since then I have given the appearance of acceptance and enjoyment, adding lies to my list of sins Father."
"I see... My Child is there any way you could in truth have turned down his gifts without causing grave offence?"
"No Father."
"Then pray continue your confession my child..."
"For certain reasons outside my control I was interrogated by the Gendarmes, they asked me ... they knew I was a fornicator and wished to know who the man was, and I did not answer promptly, and so I confess disobedience towards rightful authority."
"I have also broken a promise, for I had promised my masters son not to speak to any outsider of our relationship, and this sin also weighs on me Father."
Once more the voice from the other side of the grille interjected "My child, if I have this right you were beaten because you were too slow in answering a question, and you only answered because you were beaten?"
"Yes Father."
"I see, pray continue."
"I have at times, eight or ten, after my sins been angry and have been angry at other servants of the house, yelling at them or making nasty remarks."
"When you say after your sins what do you mean?" the voice asked.
"I mean that, after I have done these acts, these carnal acts, I feel very bad, and often I grow angry and snap at anyone nearby on the slightest pretext Father."
"I see, continue my Child."
Fairchild thought for a moment, then she completed her confession "For these and all the sins of my past life, I ask pardon of God, penance, and absolution from you, Father."
The priest responded simply "May the Almighty God have mercy on you, and forgiving your sins, bring you to life everlasting. Amen."
"Amen" Fairchild repeated.
Then he continued "May the Almighty and Merciful God grant you pardon, absolution, and remission of your sins. You should recite 14 Hail Mary's and 2 Our Fathers for your sins, then consider the implications of what you have done. You should never seek out this mans affections, and try in as much as possible to deflect them without rising his ire, but the sin of the matter is upon him and not you."
Even though she had often received that very same advice and mild penance Fairchild could not quite believe that her sins could be so easily washed away, and yet she felt immensely relieved as she did the Act of Contrition
"O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee and I detest all my sins because of Thy just punishments, but most of all because they offend Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace, to sin no more and avoid the near occasions of sin. Amen."
Even as she finished her own prayer she could hear the priest whispering the absolution "May our Lord Jesus Christ absolve you; and by His authority I absolve you from every bond of excommunication and interdict, so far as my power allows and your needs require. Thereupon, I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen."
Then he began the traditional prayer "May the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ, the merits of the Blessed Virgin Mary and of all the saints obtain for you that whatever good you do or whatever evil you bear might merit for you the remission of your sins, the increase of grace and the reward of everlasting life."
"Go in peace," the priest said.
"Thank you Father," Fairchild said as she crossed herself, then as she rose and opened the door to the confessional she added "There are maybe a score or so waiting in line."
"Thank you my Child," the priest answered as she departed to go back to the gallery.
The Present...
The mass begun auspiciously enough with the Asperges, where the church and congregation was sprinkled with holy water as the priest and choir chanted. Then it proceeded through the Mass of the Catechumens, Fairchild only half listened having heard it thousands of times before, but still being comforted by the familiar words.
When it came time for the public confession the entire congregation arose to their feet and recited "I confess to Almighty God, to Blessed Mary ever Virgin, to Blessed Michael the Archangel, to Blessed John the Baptist, to the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul, to all the angels and saints, and to you my brothers and sisters, that I have sinned exceedingly in thought, word, deed."
Fairchild, and the entire congregation, struck their chests three times, she struck hard struggling keep her hand from trembling as they continued by reciting "Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault, and I ask Blessed Mary ever Virgin, Blessed Michael the Archangel, Blessed John the Baptist, the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul, all the Angels and Saints, and you my brothers and sisters, to pray for me to the Lord our God."
From his place by the altar the priest called out "May Almighty God have mercy on you, forgive you your sins, and bring you to everlasting life." His voice rang out clearly across the Cathedral, a result of clever arrangement of Hermatite plates so that if you stood at the pulpit or in certain areas around the altar your voice would spread clearly across the Cathedral.
"Amen"
"May the Almighty and Merciful Lord grant us pardon," the priest made the sign of the cross "absolution, and remission of our sins."
Once more the congregation called out "Amen."
The public confession always made her feel better, and as the mass continued her spirits were raised. The ritual was beautiful and ancient, left untouched since the time before the so called God War, a sign of stability, of eternity even, and the elaborate vestments and elaborate ritual gave taste of Heaven upon Earth, and for the slaves assembled far more than for the free folk it was a beacon of hope for deliverance.
As the Kyrie Eleison and Christie Eleison begun she felt a sense of near ecstatic joy in her heart, it was as if a fire had been lit in her heart and her very being felt as if it was lifted upwards towards the heavens. She was scarcely the only one to feel so, for the transcendent power of the ritual would fill even the most hardened heart, so that you might taste Heaven on Earth.
Then the preparations for the Sacrament of Communion began, as he prepared the Host the priest said out loud "Who, the day before He suffered, took bread into His holy and venerable hands, and having raised His eyes to heaven to you, God, His Almighty Father, giving thanks to You, He blessed," he made the sign of the cross "it broke it, and gave it to His disciples, saying: 'Take and eat of this, all of you,'"
"HOC EST ENIM CORPUS MEUM," he called as he held the host up high and the kneeling congregation bowed their heads in adoration.
"Similarly, when the supper was ended, taking also this goodly chalice into His holy and venerable hands, again giving thanks to You, He blessed it, and gave it to His disciples, saying: 'Take and drink of this, all of you,'"
As he prepared the chalice holding the sacramental wine he called "HIC EST ENIM CALIX SANGUINIS MEI, NOVI ET AETERNI TESTAMENTI: MYSTERIUM FIDEI: QUI PRO VOBIS ET PRO MULTIS EFFUNDETUR IN REMISSIONEM PECCATORUM. Haec quotiescumque feceritis, in mei memoriam facietis." Then he lifted the chalice with the Blood of Christ up high to be adored.
The rest of the preparations for the Communion continued, the call to the saints and the Elevation proceeded as it always did, and all the rest of the precious rite transforming bread and wine into the actual flesh and blood of Christ. Fairchild listened only with half an ear, waiting for the Our Father and the signal that those desiring Communion should advance.
Then the priest called out "Behold the Lamb of God, behold Him who takes away the sins of the world."
All then recited together "Lord, I am not worthy that You should come under my roof. But say the word and my soul will be healed." Repeating it aloud three times before the members of the congregation would approach the altar railing.
Even in Church, as everywhere else in Pendleton, there was strict hierarchy here as to who should advance first, especially since there was somewhat limited space by the alter railing so only a certain number could kneel there at once. In theory of course all were equal before the eyes of God, but in practise the further forward you sat the better of you were in the secular world.
Now then the nobles, the ministers, the great merchants and the old gentry advanced first, in a rigid order, kneeling before the altar railing and wait to receive the Communion Host. Then as they finished could the lower gentry, the lesser merchants and the middle classes approach. After them came the lower classes, wearing their Sunday fineries which were often the ill fitting but fancy cast offs of their betters purchased at high cost at pawn shops and merchandises. Finally, at the very end, came the slaves such as Fairchild, their heads low and their attitudes humble and meek as they proceeded to the altar railing.
Fairchild knelt before the altar railing, her head was low and she felt ashamed that her skirt was so short before the altar, but she knew the word of St Paul "Wast thou called, being a bondman? Care not for it: but if thou mayest be made free, use it rather." So she accepted her lot in life as it were.
The priest walked over to her and held up the host, she opened her mouth a bit and he placed the host upon her tongue saying "May the Body of our Lord Jesus Christ preserve your soul unto everlasting life." She scarcely noticed the paten being held under her cheek as she accepted the host.
"Amen," she said as she swallowed it, the dry thin host seemed to half melt and half cling to the top of her mouth as she swallowed, making her right glad that discretely nearby stood a fellow offering each of the Communicants a goblet of un-consecrated wine to help swallow the host properly. Least someone choke on it, and thereby prove themselves guilty of some heinous crime. As she drank she found that the wine for the slaves was sour and bitter and she scarcely managed more than a mouthful before returning the goblet and then proceeding back to her seat.
As she walked down the isle she noticed something, something that excited and yet deeply disturbed her. At once she noticed the Thersonian ambassador, a handsome man, as flesh ages he was in his mid thirties and clean shaven. He was wearing an formal suit in the Germanic style with a cross shaped medal hanging from his neck.
From other men she noticed that they peered at her exposed ankles, and then her waist, her rear, her bosom and finally perhaps her face and even in a sacred place they had lust in their eyes. However from the ambassador she noticed that he gazed into her eyes, and their eyes met for a moment and something happened, whether it was pity or some other affection she knew not but she felt a momentous event had taken place.
As she ascended up the gallery she did not however suspect the train of events that she had just triggered, but from that moment forward things moved like a mobilization plan where none of the sides were really free to deviate in the least way.
The Gentry's Seats
Sitting in the front of the Gentry's seats there were two men in nice suits, one a Platan gentleman and the other apparently a native Pendletonian. It was of course Chief Inspector Lebrija and Inspector Day come to attend Mass, but also to keep an eye on the Thersonian ambassador. Fairchild had slowed down slightly near said ambassador, and for the briefest fraction of a second a peculiar expression crossed her eyes.
"Interesting," Lebrija said in a low cautious voice that even Day had to strain to hear.
Day's eyes followed Fairchild closely, a light smirk on his lips suggested that his interest was not entirely professional or pious "Mmmhmmm," was all he said in reply.
Lebrija's eyes went up to the gallery, his eyebrow arches slightly and then returned to Day, in response Day nodded slightly just once, it was all taken care of.
Later - Outside of the Cathedral
The crowds milled out from the Cathedral looking relieved to have mended their relationship with God or perhaps to have escaped from the dreary service. Watching the milling crowd were Inspectors Lebrija and Day, Lebrija casually slid a match across the rough surface of a nearby brick building and then lit the cigarillo firmly clenched between his teeth.
"Mr Day," Lebrija said as he took out the cigarillo and held it between his index and middle finger, the smoke drifting lazily upwards "Please go see your informant, I will speak to the Minister."
"Here Sir?" Day asked casually as he nodded towards the minister.
"No, here would cause too many questions to be asked, I'll see about a quick meeting elsewhere," Lebrija "Mr Day, if I'm not back in two hours could you please head over to Father Wensleys house and make sure all is well?"
"Of course Sir, I'll get right to it in fact."
"Please do," Lebrija said as he wandered of in direction of his Dobble steamer, his chauffeur had already gotten a head of steam built up and the fine sedan was ready to go.
Day meanwhile went to have a pleasant little chat with his informer, he walked through a long narrow dark alley, it was filled with junk and the rats peered at him fearlessly as if sizing him up. Indeed in the shadows there were no doubt two legged rats sizing him up too, however Day was a big fellow the bulge in his jacket suggested a revolver, so they backed off seeking easier prey elsewhere.
In a small square behind the Cathedral there stood a young man smoking nervously, he was maybe in his early twenties as the flesh ages anyway, his clothes fitted him nicely and were of a quality suggesting a man of means. Yet the moment he saw Day he dropped the cigarette on the ground and rubbed it out beneath the heel of his shoe, then he bowed politely to Day not raising his eyes. To a Pendletonian seeing someone stub out a cigarette like that meant they just saw a social superior, and the submissive air tinged with fear only meant one thing, a slave.
"Hey Benny," Day said in a seemingly friendly voice that did little to calm the young man down.
"Sir, I... I did everything you asked, I stayed right behind her a... behind."
"You can say ass Benny, it's a good biblical word, so..." Day leaned close "Did you waste all your time watching her ass or did you see something worth reporting?"
"Sir really I... I mean I think she's got this thing for Peter Alford, she's banging him I mean, and she's got something for that ambassador from the stars."
"Really?"
"I think so, I mean I'm not sure but she paid attention to him, and I hear she talked to him."
"You hear a lot Benny."
"Yes Sir, I tell you everything too."
"The Hell you do, but right now I don't give a damn about your little deals, or your obnoxious master for that sake, but I do want to know everything that happened around the girl."
Benny spoke at length giving the name, and owner, of every person he had seen speaking to Fairchild, and Inspector Day was only too willing to write it all down in his little leather bound notebook.
Ministry of Foreign Affairs
The Foreign Ministers office was more or less indistinguishable from that of any other man of means, power and taste in Pendleton. Bookshelves filled with leatherbound expensive books, large recliner chairs for guests, and of course a large oaken desk behind which the great man himself would sit.
"Are you certain Sir Anthony?" Alford asked cautiously, even though he had few hopes that this would be so.
"Yes Minister, there's really not much doubt, and so I come to you about the matter we spoke on," Lebrija said.
"Of course," Alford picked up his diamond tipped fountain pen and wrote two documents before he signed them and applied his seal, then he shoved them over the table so Lebrija could see them "Is this sufficient Sir Anthony?"
"Yes Minister that will be... quite sufficient"
"Good," Alford said as he rang the bell "Some brandy while we wait for the ink to dry?"
"Capital, absolutely capital."
Thersonian Embassy
"There is something so melancholy about her," William von Herzog mused as he looked out the large parlour window, with its excellent view of Old Pendleton.
"Sir?" Oberst Waldow asked.
"You know if we are to do our duty properly we would need a mage... to help explain in detail what magic can do on this world and to... act as a guide of sorts," von Herzog was thinking quietly now for a while "Do you think they'd let us have the services of a native mage?"
"I cannot say for certain but I dare say they would" Waldow replied "You're not suggesting..."
"But I am, and given the circumstances this world seems to be in I dare say that Minister Alford would let us borrow Fairchild," von Herzog commented "At the very least it won't hurt to ask when I next meet him."
"I suppose not," Waldow conceded after a while.
Von Herzog smiled widely as he held up a Schnapps glass "Then it's settled! PRUSS!" he called as he tipped the glass back and emptied it.
The Case of the Mysterious Ambassador Part III
Pendleton
Erde
Monday 11 April 1005 NE
Prynwyth Priory
"Tis' a pity letting her go like this, my wife was passing fond of the girl, but," the grey haired old Priest sniffed a bit in the air "I suppose when the nation calls and all that eh Chief Inspector?"
"Yes Father, she is required for our investigation, but of course if you wish it you can claim a repurchase right at the sales price, with deductions for anything done to diminish value," Lebrija said.
They were standing in the Priory garden, a lovely place with many rose bushes that apparently were the priests pride and joy, along with the neatly cut hedge that separated the living quarters from the graveyard surrounding the church. The two men were standing there conversing politely, the Priest in his every day dark clothes and simple white collar looking every bit the simple minded clergyman.
"I fear not Inspector, ah Chief Inspector," the priest replied, he seemed a bit embarrassed as he half whispered the next part "In truth we have long sought some moneys to pay for repairing the Church, and for giving charities to the many needy in the area, indeed the lack of funds and the many needy parishioners is I fear closely related, this..." He nodded sadly "This sale is a God send, and I ... I doubt very much we will ever be able to repurchase her."
The conversation was a bit stilted as they waited, but soon enough they heard footsteps from inside the house, and then the door to the garden opened quietly on well oiled hinges. Our the door came a young slave girl, a striking resemblance to Mary Fairchild though her hair did have a shade more fire in it, and of course her clothes were more simple than those Mary Fairchild wore. In her hands she clutched a small, half filled, carpetbag that held whatever meagre belongings were hers.
Behind her stood a tall rigid looking woman with a set of tiny glasses, roughly the priests age in fact and wearing the long skirt of the free woman, she bent down and kissed the slave girl on the cheek and said "There's your new master girl, go now and I pray you'll be happy."
The priest grabbed the slave girl gently, and she did not struggle as he led her over to Lebrija "Rachael Fairchild Chief Inspector," he had already handed over the deed to her and absentmindedly he patted his chest to ensure that the bank bills were secure.
Rachael curtsied deeply to Lebrija, bowing her head and casting her glance down as she waited for his first orders, nervously waiting for them as she wondered what kind of a man he was.
"Come along now Rachael," Lebrija said as he accepted her "Father," then to the lady "Ma'am, it's been a pleasure making your acquaintance."
"You too Chief Inspector, a delight," said the priest, though his wife merely made a polite curtsy making Lebrija wonder if there would be something of a domestic quarrel in the evening.
Old Brick
Their office was its usual chaotic self, Lebrija had placed the girl in the antechamber and told their secretary to keep a close eye on her. Peering out he could see that she sat obediently with her hands in her lap not stirring or making any trouble, always a good sign in a slave.
Sitting down in his chair he leaned back once more, gently drawing in the smoke of a cigarillo as he peered into the air, after a few moments of contemplation he turned the chair slightly to look at his assistant. "What do you think?" Lebrija asked.
"I think that..." Day began, then he put down the paper he was working on, glad for the excuse "I'm not sure what you mean Sir."
"The girl Mr Day, the girl," Lebrija replied.
"Pretty Sir."
"Yes I suppose she is, but where will we be keeping her? As far as I can tell we have three options, a jail cell, a private home, yours or mine that is, or else asking the Alfords to house her."
"Well Sir, if you want my advice," Day begun cautiously.
"Of course Mr Day, you're not here for decorative purposes," Lebrija replied half jokingly.
"If we take her to the Alfords that young Gentleman Peter Alford will indulge in the gentry's favourite indoor sport."
"That's rather blunt."
"It's true Sir."
"Yes but still..." Lebrija stopped of course Day knows better than repeating that in public "Yes for our purposes that could be bad."
"Yes Sir, and a jail cell, well not the nicest place either, and of course I don't trust jailers further than I can throw the fat bastards."
Jailors were of course notorious for abusing prisoners, even though the Gendarme cells in Old Brick were considered quite safe, but for an item as Rachael Fairchild gambling seemed out.
"Hmmmmm... a house then," Lebrija said quietly, then looking to Day he asked cautiously "Do you want her Mr Day?"
"Depends Sir, does she cook?"
"I imagine she's trained to be an upstairs servant, a Lady's Maid, her main talent is in dressing other women and being agreeable company."
Looking a bit nonchalant Day replied "Well Sir, as much as wearing silky dresses makes me feel pretty, I have no real use for agreeable company."
"There are other things she could do," Lebrija commented a light smile playing around his lips.
"I doubt Mary Fairchild would like that Sir," Day begun, from Lebrija's slight jerk of the head and raised eyebrow it was clear that this was not quite what he had meant but Day continued unperturbed "and they're bound to talk now with her already not inclined to like me."
"I see Mr Day, I see," Lebrija said quietly.
"Yes Sir, so if you don't mind I'll have to let you take her, and struggle through putting Petticoats and bonnets on by myself" Day finished.
"I'm sure," Lebrija said chuckling slightly under his breath "Now I got to explain that to my wife."
Day held up his right hand showing that it was quite clear of any adornments, as a happy bachelor he had no intention of getting married before his family decided to apply so much pressure that he had to give in. Of course it was well know, though not really considered that odd, that a young man with some wealth like Day was rather keen on maintaining a small but attractive household.
For now however they returned to their daily grind for a few hours, there was paper work of course but none of it was particularly important, indeed the main reason for their delay was that they were stuck in their office waiting for a phone call from Minister Alford. As such they were both taking the opportunity to sort out such paperwork as they had to fill in themselves.
Finally the telephone rang, a clear insistent tone from the tiny alarm bell mechanism inside of it. Lebrija put down his fountain pen and picked up the receiver "Chief Inspector Lebrija" he said simply, then after a few moments he added "Already? Yes Minister I will come right away and I'll bring the package."
With a slight click Lebrija replaced the receiver on the phone stand, turning slightly to face Day while folding his hands a bit "Well Mr Day, it looks like we're going to earn our keep a bit sooner than we thought."
Alford House
The steam carriage had rumbled across the roads, occasionally shaking slightly as it crossed a section covered purely in rubble, but generally moving silently and comfortably. As their steam carriage had travelled towards Alford House their guest had begun to frown slightly as she began to recognise the scenery, yet decoratively and humbly she had remained seated, her hands folded on her lap, and her eyes cast down least she cause offence.
It was leaning towards dusk as they reached the mansion, but a clouded sky and light rains gave it the appearance of a more advanced hour. As a fortunate aside there were few people to be seen, only the odd luckless bondsman having been set to some chore and getting drenched while his master sat before a healthy fire.
An unrehearsed act is hard to do, but to Lebrija and Day the act was hardly unrehearsed, they sent their cards to the master of the house and were at once let in by the doorman who led them to his masters office. Through that great mansion they strode till finally they reached the large oaken door, and their knock was greeted by a call of "Enter please!"
Seeing the two detectives Alford smiled and extended his hand to Lebrija "Sir Anthony, right glad I am to see you," he smiled in that slight embarrassed fashion "Ah least I go all melodramatic where's the girl?" Releasing Alfords hand he looked around.
"In the carriage, I believed it best that she not be seen directly by the staff, they may recognise her she is her mothers daughter in every way" Lebrija explained "My thought Minister was that we could lead her, wearing a cloak and hood, to the ruined watermill, and then let her mother find her there."
"Of course Sir Anthony you are correct," Alford said at once nodding his head "It would not do to have gossip about this matter, I shall order Fairchild to do as you say."
"I am most obliged Minister," Lebrija said and gave a polite bow "With your permission I'll attend to the matter right away, do you wish to be present?"
"I think that would be best Sir Anthony, if for nothing else than to impress my authority upon them."
"Of course, well then Minister perhaps you would bring Fairchild?"
"Indeed I shall do just that."
With that they gave each other a quick bow and the two inspectors left the office, as they walked towards the exit Day gave Lebrija a knowing look and commented "Sir, if he wasn't a Minister of the Republic."
"I know, and I'm sorry," Lebrija said even as he made sure no servants were overhearing.
Day however shrugged and looked uncommitted "You're not the one that should apologise Sir," he said simply.
Upon reaching the carriage they found that Rachael Fairchild had not moved from her position, but her eyes were wide, and her mouth slightly open as she realised that she was in truth at her childhood home. How long she had sat thus they did not know, but could perhaps later ask the chauffeur who would occasionally gaze at his passenger through the interior rear view mirror. Rachael was about to speak as she saw the two men draw near, but wisely thought the better of it.
"Wrap yourself in your cloak," Lebrija said "And place the hood well above your head so that no one will recognise you," then with a gentler voice he added "A good fortune will come to you now, if you will but obey and do as you're told, stay silent and hooded as you come with us now."
She nodded quietly as she pulled the hood over her head before exiting the steam carriage, her fair face illuminated slightly by the lights of the carriage. She huddled the cloak over her as she walked into the light rain, hearing it drum softly against her hood.
They walked her over to the watermill in the back garden, the mill itself had half a roof left providing shelter from the rain so the inspectors and the slave girl stood there; the men smoking to pass the time and the girl trying to vanish into the masonry even as her head would shoot up towards any unexpected sound.
Finally though Day looked out and dropped his cigarette to the floor, rubbing it out with the sole of his shoe, looking back to Lebrija a thin stream of water dripping from the brim of his hat he said "They're coming."
Lebrija nodded and walked out into the rain, Alford raised his hand slightly, the minister was wearing a heavy overcoat and by his side, though covered by a hooded coat was Fairchild. Lebrija walked briskly over to them, though making certain he didn't slip in the wet grass, and ignoring the way his trousers were soaked beneath the knee.
"Minister," Lebrija said then he looked at the hooded woman "Ah Fairchild." Noticing a slight nod from the Minister Lebrija took Fairchild by the crook of her arm and said "I think there's someone here you want to meet."
"I see Sir," Fairchild said, puzzlement and confusion clear on her face, but she followed him willingly enough.
"Mr Day," Lebrija said motioning slightly with his free hand, enough that Day left the shelter of the watermill, pulling the brim of his hat a bit and pulling his coat tighter as he shook his head slightly.
As Lebrija led Fairchild into the now empty shelter the mage looked up, a frown upon her face, and then he could feel her squirm. Instinctively he let her part from him, and from the reaction of the girl leaning against the wall he could see that she too recognised someone.
Rachael Fairchild looked up, her eyes big and filled with wonder, as if she could not quite believe what she saw "Mother?" she asked.
"Oh my Rachael! My sweet, oh..." Mary Fairchild cried as she rushed towards her daughter her arms outspread.
Rachael too was too overwhelmed to think about standing still and fled into her mothers arms "Mom," she cried as she felt her mothers arms embrace her and hold her tight. She clutched her arms tightly around her mother, shedding tears of joy as she rested her head against her mothers bosom. Mary tenderly hugged her daughter, holding around her with her left arm and gently caressing her hair with the right, tears rolling down her own cheeks.
"I thought..." Mary said in a tear strained voice "That I'd never see you again." Rachaels reply was impossible to make out as she was far too emotional for comprehensible words. Both of them hugged the other tight as if they were afraid this was just some dream and that if they let go they would be separated forever.
Mary remembered well when she held this girl, no a young woman now, in her arms as a babe, and bitterly lamented the many lost years and how she never got to see her daughter grow to womanhood. Now however all the sufferings of her life seemed banished, to have her child in her arms once more.
However the spell could not last forever, especially as they were suddenly quite aware of the fact that Chief Inspector Lebrija was watching them, as he called out "I know you missed one another, but we need to speak now Fairchild."
He walked towards them, and now Day too appeared, causing Mary to shudder involuntarily and Rachael to look up in confusion wondering why this man caused her mother so much fear.
"Sir," Mary Fairchild said as she looked at her social superior, but she just couldn't let go of her daughter rather risking punishment that doing so.
"The Republic needs your services Fairchild," Lebrija said casually, then looking at Rachael he added "Your mother that is," he smiled at her and then turned his attention back to Mary "I think you have some inkling of the matter already."
"The ambassador," Mary croaked, "Is it he Sir?"
"Indeed Fairchild, he has asked to borrow you for the embassy, no doubt they have great use of a lesser mage for various issues, and you are well educated in other things," looking towards the exit Lebrija added "Your master, the Minister knows of course."
"I see Sir" Mary said even as her mind churned with the possibilities this opened, not to mention wondering why her daughter was here.
"Obviously you will need to make discrete, but relatively frequent reports, to us about the goings on at the Embassy and what you have heard and seen," Lebrija explained as he drew yet nearer "Additionally it should help if you used your wits to present as pleasant a picture of our fair Republic as you possibly could."
It was then he did it, he leaned forward briefly and whispered into Fairchilds ear "Do this right and I swear by St Jude that your daughter shall be emancipated". The way that Mary's eyes shot open showed amply that she had heard the message, and the look in her eyes showed her answer even though she said nothing.
"Of course," Lebrija pulled back and his voice returned to its ordinary volume "We thought that being re-united with your daughter would be a nice incentive for your good performance, when you are away she will be quite safe as a part of my household." The look he gave Mary promised that Rachael would be safe from all the perils of a fair maiden.
Now however Day broke in with a smirk as he looked at the two "For now at least, though if your service tarries too much for us to bother with we'll turn her over to the safekeeping of Alford House who will, I am sure, ensure that she receives the same love and affection as you have."
Mary gasped and clutched her daughter closer, but fortunately Lebrija spared her the danger of having to answer "Yes well, though I am sure the Alford household would do this I certainly don't think there will be any cause for here to leave mine until Mary Fairchild has done her duty, eh?"
"No Sir," Mary replied firmly "As God is my witness I shall give you no cause for this at all."
"We'll let you have a few moments to yourself then," Lebrija said.
Mary smiled blissfully "Thank you Sir," she said meaning every word of it as she pulled Rachael into her protective embrace.
Lebrija smiled then he gently adjusted his hat and walked towards the broken wall stepping outside of the watermill, Day by his side. Once outside they exchanged knowing looks, it had been a perfect example of good cop bad cop as it was called, and now rather than an extorted unwilling spy they had, God willing, aquired a willing and dedicated agent inside the foreign camp.
Erde
Monday 11 April 1005 NE
Prynwyth Priory
"Tis' a pity letting her go like this, my wife was passing fond of the girl, but," the grey haired old Priest sniffed a bit in the air "I suppose when the nation calls and all that eh Chief Inspector?"
"Yes Father, she is required for our investigation, but of course if you wish it you can claim a repurchase right at the sales price, with deductions for anything done to diminish value," Lebrija said.
They were standing in the Priory garden, a lovely place with many rose bushes that apparently were the priests pride and joy, along with the neatly cut hedge that separated the living quarters from the graveyard surrounding the church. The two men were standing there conversing politely, the Priest in his every day dark clothes and simple white collar looking every bit the simple minded clergyman.
"I fear not Inspector, ah Chief Inspector," the priest replied, he seemed a bit embarrassed as he half whispered the next part "In truth we have long sought some moneys to pay for repairing the Church, and for giving charities to the many needy in the area, indeed the lack of funds and the many needy parishioners is I fear closely related, this..." He nodded sadly "This sale is a God send, and I ... I doubt very much we will ever be able to repurchase her."
The conversation was a bit stilted as they waited, but soon enough they heard footsteps from inside the house, and then the door to the garden opened quietly on well oiled hinges. Our the door came a young slave girl, a striking resemblance to Mary Fairchild though her hair did have a shade more fire in it, and of course her clothes were more simple than those Mary Fairchild wore. In her hands she clutched a small, half filled, carpetbag that held whatever meagre belongings were hers.
Behind her stood a tall rigid looking woman with a set of tiny glasses, roughly the priests age in fact and wearing the long skirt of the free woman, she bent down and kissed the slave girl on the cheek and said "There's your new master girl, go now and I pray you'll be happy."
The priest grabbed the slave girl gently, and she did not struggle as he led her over to Lebrija "Rachael Fairchild Chief Inspector," he had already handed over the deed to her and absentmindedly he patted his chest to ensure that the bank bills were secure.
Rachael curtsied deeply to Lebrija, bowing her head and casting her glance down as she waited for his first orders, nervously waiting for them as she wondered what kind of a man he was.
"Come along now Rachael," Lebrija said as he accepted her "Father," then to the lady "Ma'am, it's been a pleasure making your acquaintance."
"You too Chief Inspector, a delight," said the priest, though his wife merely made a polite curtsy making Lebrija wonder if there would be something of a domestic quarrel in the evening.
Old Brick
Their office was its usual chaotic self, Lebrija had placed the girl in the antechamber and told their secretary to keep a close eye on her. Peering out he could see that she sat obediently with her hands in her lap not stirring or making any trouble, always a good sign in a slave.
Sitting down in his chair he leaned back once more, gently drawing in the smoke of a cigarillo as he peered into the air, after a few moments of contemplation he turned the chair slightly to look at his assistant. "What do you think?" Lebrija asked.
"I think that..." Day began, then he put down the paper he was working on, glad for the excuse "I'm not sure what you mean Sir."
"The girl Mr Day, the girl," Lebrija replied.
"Pretty Sir."
"Yes I suppose she is, but where will we be keeping her? As far as I can tell we have three options, a jail cell, a private home, yours or mine that is, or else asking the Alfords to house her."
"Well Sir, if you want my advice," Day begun cautiously.
"Of course Mr Day, you're not here for decorative purposes," Lebrija replied half jokingly.
"If we take her to the Alfords that young Gentleman Peter Alford will indulge in the gentry's favourite indoor sport."
"That's rather blunt."
"It's true Sir."
"Yes but still..." Lebrija stopped of course Day knows better than repeating that in public "Yes for our purposes that could be bad."
"Yes Sir, and a jail cell, well not the nicest place either, and of course I don't trust jailers further than I can throw the fat bastards."
Jailors were of course notorious for abusing prisoners, even though the Gendarme cells in Old Brick were considered quite safe, but for an item as Rachael Fairchild gambling seemed out.
"Hmmmmm... a house then," Lebrija said quietly, then looking to Day he asked cautiously "Do you want her Mr Day?"
"Depends Sir, does she cook?"
"I imagine she's trained to be an upstairs servant, a Lady's Maid, her main talent is in dressing other women and being agreeable company."
Looking a bit nonchalant Day replied "Well Sir, as much as wearing silky dresses makes me feel pretty, I have no real use for agreeable company."
"There are other things she could do," Lebrija commented a light smile playing around his lips.
"I doubt Mary Fairchild would like that Sir," Day begun, from Lebrija's slight jerk of the head and raised eyebrow it was clear that this was not quite what he had meant but Day continued unperturbed "and they're bound to talk now with her already not inclined to like me."
"I see Mr Day, I see," Lebrija said quietly.
"Yes Sir, so if you don't mind I'll have to let you take her, and struggle through putting Petticoats and bonnets on by myself" Day finished.
"I'm sure," Lebrija said chuckling slightly under his breath "Now I got to explain that to my wife."
Day held up his right hand showing that it was quite clear of any adornments, as a happy bachelor he had no intention of getting married before his family decided to apply so much pressure that he had to give in. Of course it was well know, though not really considered that odd, that a young man with some wealth like Day was rather keen on maintaining a small but attractive household.
For now however they returned to their daily grind for a few hours, there was paper work of course but none of it was particularly important, indeed the main reason for their delay was that they were stuck in their office waiting for a phone call from Minister Alford. As such they were both taking the opportunity to sort out such paperwork as they had to fill in themselves.
Finally the telephone rang, a clear insistent tone from the tiny alarm bell mechanism inside of it. Lebrija put down his fountain pen and picked up the receiver "Chief Inspector Lebrija" he said simply, then after a few moments he added "Already? Yes Minister I will come right away and I'll bring the package."
With a slight click Lebrija replaced the receiver on the phone stand, turning slightly to face Day while folding his hands a bit "Well Mr Day, it looks like we're going to earn our keep a bit sooner than we thought."
Alford House
The steam carriage had rumbled across the roads, occasionally shaking slightly as it crossed a section covered purely in rubble, but generally moving silently and comfortably. As their steam carriage had travelled towards Alford House their guest had begun to frown slightly as she began to recognise the scenery, yet decoratively and humbly she had remained seated, her hands folded on her lap, and her eyes cast down least she cause offence.
It was leaning towards dusk as they reached the mansion, but a clouded sky and light rains gave it the appearance of a more advanced hour. As a fortunate aside there were few people to be seen, only the odd luckless bondsman having been set to some chore and getting drenched while his master sat before a healthy fire.
An unrehearsed act is hard to do, but to Lebrija and Day the act was hardly unrehearsed, they sent their cards to the master of the house and were at once let in by the doorman who led them to his masters office. Through that great mansion they strode till finally they reached the large oaken door, and their knock was greeted by a call of "Enter please!"
Seeing the two detectives Alford smiled and extended his hand to Lebrija "Sir Anthony, right glad I am to see you," he smiled in that slight embarrassed fashion "Ah least I go all melodramatic where's the girl?" Releasing Alfords hand he looked around.
"In the carriage, I believed it best that she not be seen directly by the staff, they may recognise her she is her mothers daughter in every way" Lebrija explained "My thought Minister was that we could lead her, wearing a cloak and hood, to the ruined watermill, and then let her mother find her there."
"Of course Sir Anthony you are correct," Alford said at once nodding his head "It would not do to have gossip about this matter, I shall order Fairchild to do as you say."
"I am most obliged Minister," Lebrija said and gave a polite bow "With your permission I'll attend to the matter right away, do you wish to be present?"
"I think that would be best Sir Anthony, if for nothing else than to impress my authority upon them."
"Of course, well then Minister perhaps you would bring Fairchild?"
"Indeed I shall do just that."
With that they gave each other a quick bow and the two inspectors left the office, as they walked towards the exit Day gave Lebrija a knowing look and commented "Sir, if he wasn't a Minister of the Republic."
"I know, and I'm sorry," Lebrija said even as he made sure no servants were overhearing.
Day however shrugged and looked uncommitted "You're not the one that should apologise Sir," he said simply.
Upon reaching the carriage they found that Rachael Fairchild had not moved from her position, but her eyes were wide, and her mouth slightly open as she realised that she was in truth at her childhood home. How long she had sat thus they did not know, but could perhaps later ask the chauffeur who would occasionally gaze at his passenger through the interior rear view mirror. Rachael was about to speak as she saw the two men draw near, but wisely thought the better of it.
"Wrap yourself in your cloak," Lebrija said "And place the hood well above your head so that no one will recognise you," then with a gentler voice he added "A good fortune will come to you now, if you will but obey and do as you're told, stay silent and hooded as you come with us now."
She nodded quietly as she pulled the hood over her head before exiting the steam carriage, her fair face illuminated slightly by the lights of the carriage. She huddled the cloak over her as she walked into the light rain, hearing it drum softly against her hood.
They walked her over to the watermill in the back garden, the mill itself had half a roof left providing shelter from the rain so the inspectors and the slave girl stood there; the men smoking to pass the time and the girl trying to vanish into the masonry even as her head would shoot up towards any unexpected sound.
Finally though Day looked out and dropped his cigarette to the floor, rubbing it out with the sole of his shoe, looking back to Lebrija a thin stream of water dripping from the brim of his hat he said "They're coming."
Lebrija nodded and walked out into the rain, Alford raised his hand slightly, the minister was wearing a heavy overcoat and by his side, though covered by a hooded coat was Fairchild. Lebrija walked briskly over to them, though making certain he didn't slip in the wet grass, and ignoring the way his trousers were soaked beneath the knee.
"Minister," Lebrija said then he looked at the hooded woman "Ah Fairchild." Noticing a slight nod from the Minister Lebrija took Fairchild by the crook of her arm and said "I think there's someone here you want to meet."
"I see Sir," Fairchild said, puzzlement and confusion clear on her face, but she followed him willingly enough.
"Mr Day," Lebrija said motioning slightly with his free hand, enough that Day left the shelter of the watermill, pulling the brim of his hat a bit and pulling his coat tighter as he shook his head slightly.
As Lebrija led Fairchild into the now empty shelter the mage looked up, a frown upon her face, and then he could feel her squirm. Instinctively he let her part from him, and from the reaction of the girl leaning against the wall he could see that she too recognised someone.
Rachael Fairchild looked up, her eyes big and filled with wonder, as if she could not quite believe what she saw "Mother?" she asked.
"Oh my Rachael! My sweet, oh..." Mary Fairchild cried as she rushed towards her daughter her arms outspread.
Rachael too was too overwhelmed to think about standing still and fled into her mothers arms "Mom," she cried as she felt her mothers arms embrace her and hold her tight. She clutched her arms tightly around her mother, shedding tears of joy as she rested her head against her mothers bosom. Mary tenderly hugged her daughter, holding around her with her left arm and gently caressing her hair with the right, tears rolling down her own cheeks.
"I thought..." Mary said in a tear strained voice "That I'd never see you again." Rachaels reply was impossible to make out as she was far too emotional for comprehensible words. Both of them hugged the other tight as if they were afraid this was just some dream and that if they let go they would be separated forever.
Mary remembered well when she held this girl, no a young woman now, in her arms as a babe, and bitterly lamented the many lost years and how she never got to see her daughter grow to womanhood. Now however all the sufferings of her life seemed banished, to have her child in her arms once more.
However the spell could not last forever, especially as they were suddenly quite aware of the fact that Chief Inspector Lebrija was watching them, as he called out "I know you missed one another, but we need to speak now Fairchild."
He walked towards them, and now Day too appeared, causing Mary to shudder involuntarily and Rachael to look up in confusion wondering why this man caused her mother so much fear.
"Sir," Mary Fairchild said as she looked at her social superior, but she just couldn't let go of her daughter rather risking punishment that doing so.
"The Republic needs your services Fairchild," Lebrija said casually, then looking at Rachael he added "Your mother that is," he smiled at her and then turned his attention back to Mary "I think you have some inkling of the matter already."
"The ambassador," Mary croaked, "Is it he Sir?"
"Indeed Fairchild, he has asked to borrow you for the embassy, no doubt they have great use of a lesser mage for various issues, and you are well educated in other things," looking towards the exit Lebrija added "Your master, the Minister knows of course."
"I see Sir" Mary said even as her mind churned with the possibilities this opened, not to mention wondering why her daughter was here.
"Obviously you will need to make discrete, but relatively frequent reports, to us about the goings on at the Embassy and what you have heard and seen," Lebrija explained as he drew yet nearer "Additionally it should help if you used your wits to present as pleasant a picture of our fair Republic as you possibly could."
It was then he did it, he leaned forward briefly and whispered into Fairchilds ear "Do this right and I swear by St Jude that your daughter shall be emancipated". The way that Mary's eyes shot open showed amply that she had heard the message, and the look in her eyes showed her answer even though she said nothing.
"Of course," Lebrija pulled back and his voice returned to its ordinary volume "We thought that being re-united with your daughter would be a nice incentive for your good performance, when you are away she will be quite safe as a part of my household." The look he gave Mary promised that Rachael would be safe from all the perils of a fair maiden.
Now however Day broke in with a smirk as he looked at the two "For now at least, though if your service tarries too much for us to bother with we'll turn her over to the safekeeping of Alford House who will, I am sure, ensure that she receives the same love and affection as you have."
Mary gasped and clutched her daughter closer, but fortunately Lebrija spared her the danger of having to answer "Yes well, though I am sure the Alford household would do this I certainly don't think there will be any cause for here to leave mine until Mary Fairchild has done her duty, eh?"
"No Sir," Mary replied firmly "As God is my witness I shall give you no cause for this at all."
"We'll let you have a few moments to yourself then," Lebrija said.
Mary smiled blissfully "Thank you Sir," she said meaning every word of it as she pulled Rachael into her protective embrace.
Lebrija smiled then he gently adjusted his hat and walked towards the broken wall stepping outside of the watermill, Day by his side. Once outside they exchanged knowing looks, it had been a perfect example of good cop bad cop as it was called, and now rather than an extorted unwilling spy they had, God willing, aquired a willing and dedicated agent inside the foreign camp.
The Joint Bureau Part I
Pendleton
Erde
Thursday 14 April 1005 NE
Old Brick
The office of Lebrija and Day was the same as it always was, aside from a couple of empty champagne bottles that peered up from a waste basket, the two men had long since recovered from their little celebration. Now they were both ready for a new day of work, both of them fresh and on the bounce as they studied the reports of various subordinates.
"Bit dull being back to regular duties Sir," Day commented as he studied a report on the discovery of a stamp forging operation "I mean fer crying out loud who bothers faking stamps?"
"Don't jinx it Mr Day" Lebrija said almost at once.
"What jinx stamps?"
"No the regular duties part, I for one found the whole cloak and dagger scheme distasteful."
"I dunno Sir, I found it rather exciting, the thrill of the chase, the conspiring, the not having to get permission to make huge purchases."
"You're not the one stuck with it"
"No Sir, but it..."
Lebrija would never know what Day was about to say for at that precise moment there was a brief rap on the door to the antechamber, and almost at once the door was opened by their secretary. "Office mail Sirs," he said rather unnecessarily as he held up one of those light blue envelopes with a single strand of red tape around it bound with a daub of red wax, then looking at the envelope he added "It's from the Chief Super Sir," as he handed it to Lebrija.
Lebrija had indeed been about to scold him but instead he reached out and accepted the letter saying simply "Thank you Garvey," before he pulled out his sharp brass letter opener and cut apart the wire and opened the letter. Meanwhile their secretary discretely absented himself.
"Well now, listen to this if you please Mr Day," Lebrija said as he begun to read out loud "You are hereby cordially invited to a luncheon with Chief Superintendent Whippletwaith commencing at 1PM on the present day." Folding the invitation together again Lebrija held it up as he gazed on it, finally he let it fall onto the table "I would hazard a guess that this has something to do with our latest case Mr Day."
"Yes Sir, seems rather likely that," Day commented.
Of course there was no question of whether they'd accept or not, when your superiors superior asks you to do something it is in general an order however politely it is phrased.
Chief Superintendents Office
Chief Superintendent Whippletwaith was in command of the Department of Safety and Public Order one of the more important branches of the Gendarmerie since it was concerned with preventing political violence, riots, and subversive activities. Thus its agents generally had, for better or for worse, a freer hand than most in deciding which tasks they would be involved with though of course within limits.
There are benefits to rank in all organisations, and of course the Gendarmes were no exception, thus Whippletwaith had a rather sumptuous suite of rooms for his offices. One of these rooms was a small dining room, suitable for quiet discussions with valued subordinates or other individuals that require feting for one reason or another.
The room was not very large, nor did it have to be, the table might seat six in good comfort, it was covered in a white linen cloth with only the elegantly curved legs sticking out. The room itself was rather barren, aside from the row of portraits along the long sides of the room, and a few display cases showing medals and various letters, there was only the table and the chairs. The porcelain was likewise simple white with blue decorations, but quite tasteful in their own way, and silver cutlery with a seashell pattern engraved on them.
There were only three men around the table, Chief Superintendent Whippletwaith himself, Chief Inspector Lebrija, and Inspector Day. Indeed there were only four people in the room altogether, the fourth being the same imperturbable servant that had let them into the room, a young man with slick backed blue-black hair and snow white livery though to his great credit he was scarcely noticed throughout the meal.
The meal was light, as was fitting for luncheon, and though it was good Pendletonian fare Lebrija did not care much for it, the Pendletonians were perhaps shrewd merchants or engineers but their kidney pies and other delicatessen left something to be desired. At least they were serving an excellent strong Grand Plains wine, perhaps more suitable for heartier meals but nevertheless a good vintage.
Initially the conversation was light and went into matters like the latest plays at the theatre, Whippletwaith didn't really like modern plays, the weather, and of course discussions about the political situation as it were.
After the meal as they retired into the small lounge that Whippletwaith maintained for such occasions, and finding it well appointed with good recliner chairs everyone made themselves comfortable as the manservant discretely offered a silver case of cigars from which both Day and Lebrija accepted one. Lebrija used the proffered steel cigar cutter to cut his cigar and then smelled it, it was exquisite of course another import from his homeland, then he shivered a little as a Lucifer was used to light it. Day however bit the end of his cigar and fidgeted slightly before the manservant could light it for him.
As they all relaxed with a snifter of cognac and a fine cigar Whippletwaith got to the meat of the matter "Gentlemen, I'm sure you've already guessed that I didn't ask you here strictly on social grounds," he looked at them for a moment and seeing that they both wisely chose to remain silent for now "The Bureau of State Security, through means of their own though I have my own suspicions, have found out about your little scheme to infiltrate Fairchild into the Thersonian embassy, they are practically having the vapours I should say!"
He chuckled low at that picture "They think that we have gone beyond our bounds that we should not be permitted to act to spy on foreign powers, whereas we would claim that we have every right to maintain the security of the embassies, though that be neither here nor there."
"Now then Gentlemen it so happens that confronting them directly is not in the best interests if the Republic, or at this moment the Gendarmes, but we have decided to create with them a ... Joint Bureau, a joint task force that will keep an eye on the embassies with us handling the duties on Pendleton and BOSS handling anything abroad." A strange expression crossed his face, not a smile but something else entirely "No doubt this will result in unusual levels of inter-service co-operation and affection, and naturally we need someone competent to manage it on our end... that'd be you Sir Anthony."
One of Lebrija's eyebrows went up at this "Sir, I am honoured but, ah," he questioned how far to go and decided to be honest yet polite "I have worked with the Bureau of State Security before, it is even in the best of times difficult."
"Indeed, indeed," Whippletwaith conceded "I am asking you, genuinely asking that is, to take this position, but Sir Anthony if you think it is too much you are not obliged to say aye." Feeling the need to elaborate he added "There is no opprobrium if you say no, except for one matter if you do then you must at once turn over to my safekeeping the girl, Rachael Fairchild yes? Past that your career shan't be affected for better or for worse."
"Very generous of you Sir, and kind of you to put my mind at ease" Lebrija said gracioucly even as he pondered the suggestion in his mind, buying time by sampling his cigar and cognac.
"Nonsense, perhaps in bad penny dreadfuls the hero is forced against his will into a web of deceit! In the real world sullen unwilling agents is the last thing I need, nor do I need those who feel they have been forced into it, no Sir Anthony if you accept I would have it be from your free will and nothing else! That of course goes for you too Mr Day," Whippletwaith said "And of course the offer extends to you Mr Day, I hope you forgive me for not making that clear earlier, you will if you accept be the second in command."
"Sir, what would our position be, in terms of rank and the chain of command within the Force," Lebrija asked cautiously interested.
"Well Sir Anthony neither of you would be promoted in rank, but your position would be that of a Head of Station, and you would answer directly to me as you would still be under this Department, but..." Whippletwaith made an artistic pause not entirely successful "You would have my personal patronage, and be owed a favour by the Chief Constable himself, if this assuage you."
For both Lebrija and Day the offer was quite clear, a chance to join the fast track to promotion and power, or else return to obscurity as ordinary detectives. Even so Whippletwaith seemed a good fisherman, determined not to reel in his catch too soon.
"Of course I shan't force you to make a decision now, awfully uncivilized that, but I must ask that I have your answer by this time tomorrow," Whippletwaith said looking at this two guests "It is a rather urgent matter after all." He rose up and spread his hands a bit "I hope you will consider it carefully."
"I will give you the answer by noon tomorrow Sir" Lebrija said simply, then sensing the meeting was over he put down his cognac snifter and rose from his chair "It has been an honour and a privilege Sir."
"For me too Sir," Day added as he too rose, then emptied his cognac snifter before handing it over to the manservant who was hovering quietly nearby.
Pendleton
Erde
Friday 15 April 1005 NE
Old Brick, Lebrija & Days Office
"What do you think Mr Day?" Lebrija asked casually, both of them seemed relaxed, and indeed they had both made up their minds the night before.
Day smiled a bit, a youthful smile "Sir when opportunity knocks then for heavens sake open the door, besides it gives me a chance to work over," he smiled and changed it to "With a new class of people."
"Well Mr Day I have decided too, and I will take it but," Lebrija motioned to the papers on his desk "Mostly because I am tired of working on stamp forgers and petty low lives that are somehow connected to abolitionist groups or robbers or what have you."
Rising from his chair Lebrija stretched, then he looked over his office one more time "Well lets not tarry, but go and tell the gentleman at once that we assent, then at least we should have more comfortable quarters if nothing else!"
Chief Superintendents Office
"I am delighted to hear your decision," Whippletwaith said, he genially extended his hand first to Lebrija and then to Day, both of which found his palms to be dry and his handshake firm "I hope you will not have cause to regret this Gentlemen, and it just so happens that there is one small matter that needs be dealt with."
Croneleigh Spaceport
Earlier that day
It was a splendid spring morning in Croneleigh, indeed it was warm enough for the Spaceport Master to be enjoying a quiet moment reading his newspaper in the gardens when he received news that a new æthership was approaching. At once he rose up from the garden chair that he had been reclining in, and put aside the newspaper, while making a note of buying some of that new toothpowder he'd seen advertised.
When he reached the traffic control centre the new æthership was already making its approach, and it was quite a queer sight adorned as it was with a boldly painted hull and a rather peculiar looking figure head of a fetching young lady doing something with a handful of snakes. Certainly it had little resemblance to the more starkly functional vessels that other nations seemed to favour.
From within the ship a group of men soon emerged, and the Harbour Master naturally saw fit to arrange a welcoming party which consisted of himself and various dignitaries and Foreign Ministry agents who had seen fit to lounge about in the Spaceport and enjoy the hospitality of the government.
The men that departed were dressed in colourful and peculiar clothes, their main garment resembled an elaborate long kilt, and across their shoulders reaching down almost to the middle of their bellies they wore an elaborate garment half way between a cloak and a jacket, all of their clothes were most splendidly embroidered and decorated with the edge of their garments always having a thick embroidered rim. Upon their feet were elaborate sandals those of their leaders were even adorned with small golden wings. Their hair and beards were long and carefully arranged, their complexion ranging from tanned to rather dark, and their hair likewise varied between shock black and blonde.
As they spotted the assembled Pendletonian dignitaries they saluted them graciously and then after a few florid exchanges of compliments had gone on for a while they finally began to come to the purpose of their visit. "It is the desire of our most gracious Queen to negotiate the purchase the quantity of ether that your government has offered up for sale," their leader, whose name was Maharbal, informed them.
Pendleton
Erde
17 April 1005 NE
Ministry of Foreign Affairs
Maharbal was quite bemused by the Pendletonian government, and indeed the whole nation, an acceptable level of magic carefully hidden while an utterly ludicrously low level of technology was touted as a sign of modernity. Still whatever else you could say about this place it had ample supplies of ether, and there were other qualities to recommend it like the fact that a rich gentleman could purchase almost anything he wanted.
That said the negotiations were faring quite well, though of course there wasn't much to negotiate, he had sat down before Minister Alford and with a slight smile he had said "Minister we wish to purchase the entirety of the ether you've offered for sale, we will pay in full when our transport fleet arrives next month. I hope this is acceptable to your government."
Alford hadn't batted an eyelid but had given his assent "That does appear to be acceptable Your Excellency," and that had been about the end of it.
Later of course the subject changed to more agreeable things, as Maharbal began the negotiations necessary for the establishment of a proper embassy and potentially trade arrangements once the war was over. Now however he was certain to explain the bitter facts of the war to the Pendletonians. By the time he was done he painted such an image of the Zanzibarians that they seemed like fiends straight out of hell.
Alford nodded and seemed quite shocked by the horrific stories that he were given about the Zanzibareans, and they parted on the best of notes.
Two hours later
"So then what do you think of our visitors?" Alford asked after the mages had finally completed their sweep of the ministry building.
His aide Ponsonby replied easily enough "Interesting people, wealthy, with quite a reputation even the Thersonians had a point of view on them Minister."
"Yes, sybaritic, treacherous, powerful and rich..." Alford said as he sipped some whisky "The last bit is what concerns us the most right now, eh Mr Ponsonby?"
"And the Zanzibareans Minister?" Ponsonby asked curiously.
Alford shook his head slowly a couple of time before answering "Good grief, much of it is true no doubt, both of them a pack of bastards, but quite frankly I doubt it matters to us. Better let Sir Arthur in on the proceedings though, can't have Johnny Foreigner lounging about unattended eh?" Turning to Lebrija he added "and you Sir Anthony?"
"They tried to play us Minister if that's what you ask," Lebrija said cautiously "Though that is all I can say right now, but you may rest assured Minister that they will not be unattended."
Erde
Thursday 14 April 1005 NE
Old Brick
The office of Lebrija and Day was the same as it always was, aside from a couple of empty champagne bottles that peered up from a waste basket, the two men had long since recovered from their little celebration. Now they were both ready for a new day of work, both of them fresh and on the bounce as they studied the reports of various subordinates.
"Bit dull being back to regular duties Sir," Day commented as he studied a report on the discovery of a stamp forging operation "I mean fer crying out loud who bothers faking stamps?"
"Don't jinx it Mr Day" Lebrija said almost at once.
"What jinx stamps?"
"No the regular duties part, I for one found the whole cloak and dagger scheme distasteful."
"I dunno Sir, I found it rather exciting, the thrill of the chase, the conspiring, the not having to get permission to make huge purchases."
"You're not the one stuck with it"
"No Sir, but it..."
Lebrija would never know what Day was about to say for at that precise moment there was a brief rap on the door to the antechamber, and almost at once the door was opened by their secretary. "Office mail Sirs," he said rather unnecessarily as he held up one of those light blue envelopes with a single strand of red tape around it bound with a daub of red wax, then looking at the envelope he added "It's from the Chief Super Sir," as he handed it to Lebrija.
Lebrija had indeed been about to scold him but instead he reached out and accepted the letter saying simply "Thank you Garvey," before he pulled out his sharp brass letter opener and cut apart the wire and opened the letter. Meanwhile their secretary discretely absented himself.
"Well now, listen to this if you please Mr Day," Lebrija said as he begun to read out loud "You are hereby cordially invited to a luncheon with Chief Superintendent Whippletwaith commencing at 1PM on the present day." Folding the invitation together again Lebrija held it up as he gazed on it, finally he let it fall onto the table "I would hazard a guess that this has something to do with our latest case Mr Day."
"Yes Sir, seems rather likely that," Day commented.
Of course there was no question of whether they'd accept or not, when your superiors superior asks you to do something it is in general an order however politely it is phrased.
Chief Superintendents Office
Chief Superintendent Whippletwaith was in command of the Department of Safety and Public Order one of the more important branches of the Gendarmerie since it was concerned with preventing political violence, riots, and subversive activities. Thus its agents generally had, for better or for worse, a freer hand than most in deciding which tasks they would be involved with though of course within limits.
There are benefits to rank in all organisations, and of course the Gendarmes were no exception, thus Whippletwaith had a rather sumptuous suite of rooms for his offices. One of these rooms was a small dining room, suitable for quiet discussions with valued subordinates or other individuals that require feting for one reason or another.
The room was not very large, nor did it have to be, the table might seat six in good comfort, it was covered in a white linen cloth with only the elegantly curved legs sticking out. The room itself was rather barren, aside from the row of portraits along the long sides of the room, and a few display cases showing medals and various letters, there was only the table and the chairs. The porcelain was likewise simple white with blue decorations, but quite tasteful in their own way, and silver cutlery with a seashell pattern engraved on them.
There were only three men around the table, Chief Superintendent Whippletwaith himself, Chief Inspector Lebrija, and Inspector Day. Indeed there were only four people in the room altogether, the fourth being the same imperturbable servant that had let them into the room, a young man with slick backed blue-black hair and snow white livery though to his great credit he was scarcely noticed throughout the meal.
The meal was light, as was fitting for luncheon, and though it was good Pendletonian fare Lebrija did not care much for it, the Pendletonians were perhaps shrewd merchants or engineers but their kidney pies and other delicatessen left something to be desired. At least they were serving an excellent strong Grand Plains wine, perhaps more suitable for heartier meals but nevertheless a good vintage.
Initially the conversation was light and went into matters like the latest plays at the theatre, Whippletwaith didn't really like modern plays, the weather, and of course discussions about the political situation as it were.
After the meal as they retired into the small lounge that Whippletwaith maintained for such occasions, and finding it well appointed with good recliner chairs everyone made themselves comfortable as the manservant discretely offered a silver case of cigars from which both Day and Lebrija accepted one. Lebrija used the proffered steel cigar cutter to cut his cigar and then smelled it, it was exquisite of course another import from his homeland, then he shivered a little as a Lucifer was used to light it. Day however bit the end of his cigar and fidgeted slightly before the manservant could light it for him.
As they all relaxed with a snifter of cognac and a fine cigar Whippletwaith got to the meat of the matter "Gentlemen, I'm sure you've already guessed that I didn't ask you here strictly on social grounds," he looked at them for a moment and seeing that they both wisely chose to remain silent for now "The Bureau of State Security, through means of their own though I have my own suspicions, have found out about your little scheme to infiltrate Fairchild into the Thersonian embassy, they are practically having the vapours I should say!"
He chuckled low at that picture "They think that we have gone beyond our bounds that we should not be permitted to act to spy on foreign powers, whereas we would claim that we have every right to maintain the security of the embassies, though that be neither here nor there."
"Now then Gentlemen it so happens that confronting them directly is not in the best interests if the Republic, or at this moment the Gendarmes, but we have decided to create with them a ... Joint Bureau, a joint task force that will keep an eye on the embassies with us handling the duties on Pendleton and BOSS handling anything abroad." A strange expression crossed his face, not a smile but something else entirely "No doubt this will result in unusual levels of inter-service co-operation and affection, and naturally we need someone competent to manage it on our end... that'd be you Sir Anthony."
One of Lebrija's eyebrows went up at this "Sir, I am honoured but, ah," he questioned how far to go and decided to be honest yet polite "I have worked with the Bureau of State Security before, it is even in the best of times difficult."
"Indeed, indeed," Whippletwaith conceded "I am asking you, genuinely asking that is, to take this position, but Sir Anthony if you think it is too much you are not obliged to say aye." Feeling the need to elaborate he added "There is no opprobrium if you say no, except for one matter if you do then you must at once turn over to my safekeeping the girl, Rachael Fairchild yes? Past that your career shan't be affected for better or for worse."
"Very generous of you Sir, and kind of you to put my mind at ease" Lebrija said gracioucly even as he pondered the suggestion in his mind, buying time by sampling his cigar and cognac.
"Nonsense, perhaps in bad penny dreadfuls the hero is forced against his will into a web of deceit! In the real world sullen unwilling agents is the last thing I need, nor do I need those who feel they have been forced into it, no Sir Anthony if you accept I would have it be from your free will and nothing else! That of course goes for you too Mr Day," Whippletwaith said "And of course the offer extends to you Mr Day, I hope you forgive me for not making that clear earlier, you will if you accept be the second in command."
"Sir, what would our position be, in terms of rank and the chain of command within the Force," Lebrija asked cautiously interested.
"Well Sir Anthony neither of you would be promoted in rank, but your position would be that of a Head of Station, and you would answer directly to me as you would still be under this Department, but..." Whippletwaith made an artistic pause not entirely successful "You would have my personal patronage, and be owed a favour by the Chief Constable himself, if this assuage you."
For both Lebrija and Day the offer was quite clear, a chance to join the fast track to promotion and power, or else return to obscurity as ordinary detectives. Even so Whippletwaith seemed a good fisherman, determined not to reel in his catch too soon.
"Of course I shan't force you to make a decision now, awfully uncivilized that, but I must ask that I have your answer by this time tomorrow," Whippletwaith said looking at this two guests "It is a rather urgent matter after all." He rose up and spread his hands a bit "I hope you will consider it carefully."
"I will give you the answer by noon tomorrow Sir" Lebrija said simply, then sensing the meeting was over he put down his cognac snifter and rose from his chair "It has been an honour and a privilege Sir."
"For me too Sir," Day added as he too rose, then emptied his cognac snifter before handing it over to the manservant who was hovering quietly nearby.
Pendleton
Erde
Friday 15 April 1005 NE
Old Brick, Lebrija & Days Office
"What do you think Mr Day?" Lebrija asked casually, both of them seemed relaxed, and indeed they had both made up their minds the night before.
Day smiled a bit, a youthful smile "Sir when opportunity knocks then for heavens sake open the door, besides it gives me a chance to work over," he smiled and changed it to "With a new class of people."
"Well Mr Day I have decided too, and I will take it but," Lebrija motioned to the papers on his desk "Mostly because I am tired of working on stamp forgers and petty low lives that are somehow connected to abolitionist groups or robbers or what have you."
Rising from his chair Lebrija stretched, then he looked over his office one more time "Well lets not tarry, but go and tell the gentleman at once that we assent, then at least we should have more comfortable quarters if nothing else!"
Chief Superintendents Office
"I am delighted to hear your decision," Whippletwaith said, he genially extended his hand first to Lebrija and then to Day, both of which found his palms to be dry and his handshake firm "I hope you will not have cause to regret this Gentlemen, and it just so happens that there is one small matter that needs be dealt with."
Croneleigh Spaceport
Earlier that day
It was a splendid spring morning in Croneleigh, indeed it was warm enough for the Spaceport Master to be enjoying a quiet moment reading his newspaper in the gardens when he received news that a new æthership was approaching. At once he rose up from the garden chair that he had been reclining in, and put aside the newspaper, while making a note of buying some of that new toothpowder he'd seen advertised.
When he reached the traffic control centre the new æthership was already making its approach, and it was quite a queer sight adorned as it was with a boldly painted hull and a rather peculiar looking figure head of a fetching young lady doing something with a handful of snakes. Certainly it had little resemblance to the more starkly functional vessels that other nations seemed to favour.
From within the ship a group of men soon emerged, and the Harbour Master naturally saw fit to arrange a welcoming party which consisted of himself and various dignitaries and Foreign Ministry agents who had seen fit to lounge about in the Spaceport and enjoy the hospitality of the government.
The men that departed were dressed in colourful and peculiar clothes, their main garment resembled an elaborate long kilt, and across their shoulders reaching down almost to the middle of their bellies they wore an elaborate garment half way between a cloak and a jacket, all of their clothes were most splendidly embroidered and decorated with the edge of their garments always having a thick embroidered rim. Upon their feet were elaborate sandals those of their leaders were even adorned with small golden wings. Their hair and beards were long and carefully arranged, their complexion ranging from tanned to rather dark, and their hair likewise varied between shock black and blonde.
As they spotted the assembled Pendletonian dignitaries they saluted them graciously and then after a few florid exchanges of compliments had gone on for a while they finally began to come to the purpose of their visit. "It is the desire of our most gracious Queen to negotiate the purchase the quantity of ether that your government has offered up for sale," their leader, whose name was Maharbal, informed them.
Pendleton
Erde
17 April 1005 NE
Ministry of Foreign Affairs
Maharbal was quite bemused by the Pendletonian government, and indeed the whole nation, an acceptable level of magic carefully hidden while an utterly ludicrously low level of technology was touted as a sign of modernity. Still whatever else you could say about this place it had ample supplies of ether, and there were other qualities to recommend it like the fact that a rich gentleman could purchase almost anything he wanted.
That said the negotiations were faring quite well, though of course there wasn't much to negotiate, he had sat down before Minister Alford and with a slight smile he had said "Minister we wish to purchase the entirety of the ether you've offered for sale, we will pay in full when our transport fleet arrives next month. I hope this is acceptable to your government."
Alford hadn't batted an eyelid but had given his assent "That does appear to be acceptable Your Excellency," and that had been about the end of it.
Later of course the subject changed to more agreeable things, as Maharbal began the negotiations necessary for the establishment of a proper embassy and potentially trade arrangements once the war was over. Now however he was certain to explain the bitter facts of the war to the Pendletonians. By the time he was done he painted such an image of the Zanzibarians that they seemed like fiends straight out of hell.
Alford nodded and seemed quite shocked by the horrific stories that he were given about the Zanzibareans, and they parted on the best of notes.
Two hours later
"So then what do you think of our visitors?" Alford asked after the mages had finally completed their sweep of the ministry building.
His aide Ponsonby replied easily enough "Interesting people, wealthy, with quite a reputation even the Thersonians had a point of view on them Minister."
"Yes, sybaritic, treacherous, powerful and rich..." Alford said as he sipped some whisky "The last bit is what concerns us the most right now, eh Mr Ponsonby?"
"And the Zanzibareans Minister?" Ponsonby asked curiously.
Alford shook his head slowly a couple of time before answering "Good grief, much of it is true no doubt, both of them a pack of bastards, but quite frankly I doubt it matters to us. Better let Sir Arthur in on the proceedings though, can't have Johnny Foreigner lounging about unattended eh?" Turning to Lebrija he added "and you Sir Anthony?"
"They tried to play us Minister if that's what you ask," Lebrija said cautiously "Though that is all I can say right now, but you may rest assured Minister that they will not be unattended."
The Joint Bureau Part II
Deep Sky
Erde
30 April 1005 NE
Stealth Fast Attack Ship Yatagan
The Yatagan was a submarine shape with tapered ends, much like a Platan cigar, from this shape there were a couple of light bulges housing sensors or weapons platforms, bulges that made the ship slightly blockier but without disturbing the harmony of the hull. Though there were no great oddities or surprises the ship nevertheless drew the eye searching for something special to help catalogue it, but finding it distinctive in its indistinctiveness.
Within the elegant and most comfortable bridge the tall handsome figure peered over his instruments before speaking out "Captain, we have left the Terminus and are inside the new system."
"Ah very good! Helmsman, take us further within the system, let us see what can be found here," the grey haired Captain Armagnac announced from his chair.
With a slight shudder the ship arched forward, its engines carefully baffled by a cunning innovative system to conceal them from hostile eyes, and thus they could advance in relative privacy into the system. They had heard things about the people here, but with the communists nearby it always boded well to be cautious and circumspect.
The Comms man sat listening to the radio traffic, the laughably limited radio traffic that is, that traversed through this system, but soon enough he heard language that he recognised however corrupted and accented it might be "My Captain! I am picking up a broadcast in Frankish!"
"Mon Dieu!" Captain Armagnac said "Put it on the loudspeakers right away that we might hear!"
The broadcast crackled and sparked as it came on, despite the efforts of the officer of communications to clean it up, but the voice that came through spoke an old fashioned and peculiarly accented language that was nevertheless clearly recognisable as Frankish.
"Dear listeners, ladies and gentlemen, you are listening to the News of the Day, and please remember that this broCRACKLEonsored by Chocolat Amateller and Vin Mariani."
"Our contact with the systems surrounding us is continuing to grow, the Ambassador of the Kingdom of Thersonia CRACKLE ... ontinue ... CRACKLE ...ship."
"In other news the National Defence Bill has passed successfully with news of increased Communist infiltration of our surrounding systems, the dark shadow of the wicked government of Xannis Sevenya could not help but to influence the vote in both the Commons and the Senate ... CRACKLE ... ster of War General Francisco Santini said in a pre... CRACKLE ... essential for our National Security, that the flame of liberty that our Republic constitutes shall never be allowed to die!"
"On a more domestic front, if you excuse the exp...CRACKLE ...mpionship continues to draw record crowds, there is great excitement about the meeting of Real Santiago and Freie Utmark FV, this will be a veritabl... CRACKLE ... and I am quite certain that my esteemed colleague Monsieur Molyneux will give an ... CRACKLE ...casion."
"The wanted murderer Dr Bueller was arrested today aboard the airship Olympic, suspec... CRACKLE ...atements outraged many before his escape regard... CRACKLE ...e subject of so called Angel Makers. Dr Bueller will receive a tight escort on his way back to Pendleton where he will stand trial for his crimes."
"Happier news is now that ... CRACKLE ... chance to try out the latest innovative weapons of our great army. Our correspondent informs us that a good time was had by all, and many young boys were disappointed when they were told that they had to be 21 to jo... CRACKLE ...brance of youth."
"The esteemed Members of Parliament Monsieur August Lavelle and William Burroughs once mo ... CRACKLE ... ey referred to as the 'Cruel injustices done to the poor of ... CRACKLE ... lic' and once more proposed that the so called Lavelle Plan be implemented. This was greeted by boos and jeers from the conservative side ... CRACKLE ... Lavelle maintains that his ... CRACKLE ... deal with urban poverty."
"In the Senate Bishop Stubblefield broke his customary silence on legislative matters to refer to the Lavelle plan as 'A monstrous assault on ... CRACKLE ... the principle of minimal government imposi ... CRACKLE ... ople'. Known reformist Lord Scoresby supported the Lavelle plan as being 'Cheap, humane, and far from drain ... CRACKLE ... ther reform plan the Lavelle Plan will in fact pay ... CRACKLE ... hin a few years."
The news continued for a while in that vein, while the bridge crew sat silent and enraptured finding themselves somehow transported back many centuries to a different age. The news that followed was often rather local dealing primarily with an area referred to as "Nouveau Aquitaine". There were several small advertisement spots following this giving ads for cigarettes "Singers and speakers smoke Teddy Cigarettes for the smoothest smoke", soaps "Avonlea Soap, the secret of that incomparably fair and smooth skin", wines "Pernod the smooth taste of aniseed", and even automobiles "The Dobble Steam Carriage for unparalleled Reliability, for Luxury, perfect for the Young Gentleman setting up a new home."
Captain Armagnac thought for a while on how to handle this, he had been temporarily permitted to act as an ambassador and negotiator for the Fourth Paradisium Republic but this was a brand new system though one that should be approachable.
"Communications Officer, immediately let our presence be known and request diplomatic contact," Captain Armagnac informed his crew.
"Yes My Captain!"
Pendleton
Erde
1 May 1005 NE
Croneleigh Spaceport
The Frankish shuttle touched down at the Spaceport of Croneleigh, it was to their eyes a rather disappointing place, indeed if not for the warfleet in orbit they would have tended to think that this place was too primitive to be concerned with. However looks could often be deceptive, as indeed the example of Tintagel would have taught many, magic could be a great equaliser and magic was something that they hoped to find here.
Outside the shuttle a pair of pages quickly rolled out a long green carpet, partly for showing respect, but also partly to keep the dignitaries shoes from sticking to the fresh tarmac which had been laid down the past two weeks.
Captain Armagnac felt somewhat curious about this, but he was not about to look like a gawking tourist in front of strangers, and so wearing his full dress uniform he descended with all the pride and dignity of the Frankish race.
The area where he found himself was a most peculiar spot, to say the least, but this didn't worry him overmuch either for the picturesque landscape did in some respects remind him of old paintings that he had seen of Franco Domine in ages long, long gone.
He was greeted in a most polite fashion, and addressed in slightly accented Frankish, though if this was due to Frankish not being Minister Alfords native language, or if it was an artefact of the local tongue that he could not tell just yet.
"Monsieur le Minister," Captain Armagnac said "I am Captain Jean-Paul Armagnac of the Marine Nationale of the Fourth Paradisium Republic! I come offering the friendship of the Glorious Fourth Paradisium Republic to all freedom loving peoples wherever situated."
"You are most welcome, the Free Republic of Pendleton desires Friendship and Commerce with all nations, as long as they are not Communist," Minister Alford replied without batting an eyelid, though struggling somewhat to keep up with Captain Armagnacs French.
Ministry of Foreign Affairs
Pendleton was a most peculiar place Captain Armagnac realised, in the short period he had been here he had ascertained many peculiar facts about them, including that magic most certainly existed here and yet this was a fact that they kept denying in public even as they used it for all their medical services.
It was also peculiar in that it was so backwards, even though the room he was in had a certain charm, with its old fashioned furniture, burgeoning bookcases filled with leather bound books, and countless odd knickknacks cluttering every single available surface; indeed even something as simple as the waste basket was covered in lacy ornamentation. Still as he sipped the Aquitainian brandy he had to acknowledge that they had some redeeming qualities.
That however was not what was really on his mind, rather it was his pressing matter could not wait for a moment longer, and at the very least he could make some inquiries here and now.
"Minister, I must ask you now what are your magic levels," Armagnac asked flat out.
Alford seemed quite uncomfortable, he sipped his brandy to recover, after licking his lip very discretely he answered "Our magic is a sensitive subject, but Captain I can assure you that our magic is equal to that of any other power, and indeed exceeds that of both Rum and Ohmshire from what we've learned."
"Would you consider selling to us some of this magic?"
"I say! Hiring you some mages, at reasonable rates of course Sir, that we may do, but our laws prohibit the actual sale of mages to foreigners."
"Non Monsieur le Minister, I fear you misunderstand me! We the people of the Fourth Paradisium Republic are involved in an epic crusade against the Mind Flayers over the world of Montpelier, and to aid us in this momentous struggle we need magics; alas our world has long forgotten the magics that made us great, and though we struggle against this evil and have struck many grand blows against it we still seek whatever additional force we may have to grand us victory, and to keep all peoples safe from this our ancient foe!"
"Mind flayers? I fear I have no intelligence of these creatures," Alford said even as he gently squeezed the memory orb in the arm of his chair to ensure that this conversation would be recorded for posterity.
"It is a long and terrible story, marked by the acts of great heroism of our people, and it all begins when our glorious Empereur Napoleon XXXIX discovered that a new starway had opened to the lost world of Montpelier..." and here followed the story of the lost world of Montpelier and all the horrors discovered there even before the arrival of the Mind Flayers and of the great struggles fought there, and the great valour and courage of the Franks.
Ending his tale Armagnac continued "So Monsieur Minister, we should be most delighted if you would train some Franks for our noble struggle, and we would pay you for the time and resources expended thus."
"A week ago Captain Armagnac the answer would have been no, but oddly enough certain changed circumstances mean that ... what did you have in mind?"
"I believe the formal name is Master Mages of which we should like to have a score or so, not trained beyond the base magic levels."
Alford coughed "I cannot commit to this without consulting the rest of the government, and this subject is most sensitive..." he looked pensive then he asked "How would you feel about enjoying the hospitality of the Bruxellois? It is a city in Nouveau Aquitaine and it has much to recommend it, including, ah, an academy in the arts that you inquire about."
"I have no problems with this, but I must say that we need to resolve this with the greatest haste, the Crusade moves onwards and waits for no one."
Bruxelle
Nouveau Aquitaine
Erde
2 May 1005 NE
Chateau le Faun
Nouveau Aquitaine was a very lovely place through the entire province the river Atanya ran like a blue silk ribbon, and alongside this great river a very excellent civilization had arisen. Here were centuries old castles that looked like they had leapt out of some fairy tale with tall towers and pennants and banners fluttering in the wind, and genuine knights and noble ladies though they no longer wore armour or jousted for a ladies hand.
Naturally you also had the cities with great cathedrals stretching towards the sky, the result of centuries of vast expenditure by Aquitainian nobles who shoed no expense to show their wealth and purchase their way out of purgatory. Within each Cathedral you would find engraved images of the nobles that built it, and beneath them you would often find sepulchres and ancient tombs where the likeness of the nobles within were carved on the lid; showing that here class difference lasted even into death. Nor had this ended in modern time, for the likeness of the features upon those sepulchres could be seen even today upon the faces of the current generation of nobles.
It was the cities though that fascinated Captain Armagnac, for here you had the lively cities of the Frankish race with its countless small businesses and stores where lively debate could always be heard. Then there were the dozens of small restaurants and bistros, a couple on every street you might find where the local commune wine, and the blood of any fool that insulted it, flowed freely.
For now however Captain Armagnac was delighted by the attention of his host, the General Count Bartholomew de Faun, who was all in all a splendid gentleman who knew perfectly well how to treat his guests. They had earlier taken a tour of the magic school and there Armagnac had been given some small demonstration of their prowess, enough to convince him that they did indeed possess the powers they claimed. Now they were relaxing in his parlour, enjoying the smooth strong flavour of the Aquitainian Brandies.
"Now Monsieur le Commme," Armagnac asked politely "If you are French descendant of the Napoleonic Empire then you should know about the Paradisium Republics."
"Alas Monsieur Captaine," Count de Faun said "We know very little of the God War, or the period preceding it, I fear that the thirty mile wide crater lake where the main city of the original colony once stood is symbolic enough of our fate during this war."
"Ah yes, the God War was a most foul and unpleasant time, but surely something must have survived?"
"Indeed some things have, but they are, ah..." Count de Faun motioned with his hand "Rimbaud!" he called.
At once a distinguished man with dark hair, handsome but slightly sallow features, and an impeccable suit and demeanour appeared and bowed slightly "The Master called?"
"Yes Rimbaud, would you please fetch the book I was reading?"
"Of course Master," Rimbaud said before he bowed again and then absented himself to recover the tome.
Noticing Armagnacs somewhat bothered look Count de Faun asked "Ah I see that the rumours of the off worlders is true, many of you have trouble with our... ah peculiar institution."
"Monsieur le Comte, I must say this is true, we the people of the Fourth Paradisium Republic have fought long and hard for all men to be free of Flayer slavery and so we are uncomfortable with it where we find it. We stand up for freedom and human dignity, under the leadership of a great beacon for freedom, liberte, egalite, fraternite ou la mort!"
"I hope though that you do not think we are as bad as the flayers! At least we are human as are they" Count de Faun announced "Yet I have two arguments to offer in defence of slavery, first that the creature comforts afforded to slaves are far greater than those found among the poor workers of our cities, and second that the rights of man include our property rights and as such one can surely not be deprived of ones animate property!"
"Perhaps this is true, but I fear Monsieur le Comme that we cannot really come to an agreement at this time."
"Tis a pity yes, but it's a difficult subject filled with tones of grey, as a Christian I recognise this even as I struggle to fulfil the obligations of a good master... ah but here is Rimbaud with my book!"
Indeed Rimbaud returned holding a large leatherbound volume, the leather was brown and somewhat cracked, and the paper seemed very ancient but still it was mostly white. With reverence Rimbaud placed the book upon the table and bowed to his master and guest "Your book Master."
"Good Rimbaud, you are excused."
"Yes Master," Rimbaud said as he bowed and absented himself.
"Now them," Count de Faun found his book mark and opened the page revealing a striking hand painting of a man holding a tricolour, it was part of the decoration of the page which appeared to have been done by hand like most of the writing "The Third Paradisium Republic..."
"In the years of war there had risen a Great Republic that they called the Third Paradisium Republic, and its splendour was as that of Great Quedlimburgi. The Republics Colours were Red, White and Blue, and with these Colours they waged war upon the very heavens and were thrown down. This then is their tragic history..."
Count de Faun read from the book, some of this was familiar to Armagnac, but other things were peculiar, if not absurd, and seeing the frown upon his guests brow Count de Faun smiled and explained "There are some notes on the Paradisium Republic in our books, but do understand that these books are the result of hundreds of monks copying books for four hundred years with little fact checking."
"Well it is true that we are the sworn enemies of the Mind Flayers. One of the Napoleons beat down their god and imprisoned it in the dynastic sword, which Napoleon XXXIX has recently recovered!" Captain Armagnac mused "So who knows what else might be true?"
Politely Count de Faun refrained from commenting adversely on this, though to his ear it sounded more like political mythology than reality.
"You should join the Fourth Paradisium Republic, Napoleon XXXIX declared it recently, changing the Imperial Frankish Dominion into a more hereditary state."
"Alas our government is rather heavily concerned with domestic affairs at this time, so we cannot commit ourselves there, but between you and me I think that we could probably reach an accommodation on the other matter."
Bruxelle
Nouveau Aquitaine
Erde
9 May 1005 NE
Chateau le Faun
The negotiations had gone on and off for days now, the setting was of course splendid and Captain Armagnac had never had cause to complain of their hospitality, which was uniformly excellent. Yet the negotiations did drag on for a bit, not least because every now and again Armagnac reached the end of his charter and had to send for confirmation or advice from Franco Domine.
Thus for the sake of brevity here is a heavily abbreviated account of the negotiations, but which nevertheless show the back and forth that occurred during them.
The negotiations began with stating the obvious, at least from the Pendletonian point of view that a reasonable price would be 200 WU. It was an involved argument but not an unreasonable one given how hard it would be to awaken a magical talent and train them in such a short period of time. Indeed the mystical forces that suffused Pendleton seemed to be somewhat limited in how much new talent it would support in any one year.
"That is the price others have quoted to us too, we're not saying it is unreasonable, just that it is rather more than we are willing to pay." Armagnac explained forthright "Being ardent capitalists I hope you understand Minister."
"Well we may be able to make a deal anyway, tell me what trading arrangements do you have Excellency?"
"For trade goods you mean?"
"Indeed yes."
"None as far as I know, we used to export some but this ended due to certain unfortunate events."
"Ah quite so, if you were willing to sign a trading treaty with us we might be able to make this deal for mages at a much lower cost."
Armagnac hesitated for a moment as he thought Hardly unreasonable, especially since both sides benefit, indeed it will be very popular with the people who would greatly enjoy the exotic goods "I think that would be very agreeable, the Fourth Republic has 105 million citizens by the way. However given the war the people are more than willing to tighten their belt buckles so we only need 260 thousand standard tons of trade goods."
"I see, in this case we might offer to train the mages for 175 million pounds."
"Well, although we do not need more than 260 thousand standard tons you could send more to help lower the price a bit."
"Certainly Excellency, if we could send 130 thousand standard tons of trade good units in March, June, September and December then that would be most agreeable and we could lower the price to 150 million pounds."
"I see, a hundred and fifty," Armagnac leaned back and looked at his host "As reasonable as it is, we are still not completely comfortable paying that much for these mages, especially as we are not a magical nation."
"We could of course borrow you some of our mages to help supplement yours during this war."
"Alas this would not sort out the inherent problems of a non-magical power trying to integrate mages into its Order of Battle."
"That is true Excellency, but our mages are very experienced and could corset the ones we train for you... that said how about 140 Million pounds and you can borrow a couple of our Masters of Magic for a while."
"Once more Minister we don't really need your Masters of Magic, but how about 140 Million pounds and you supply us with the various paraphernalia that mages require to function properly."
"You mean the laboratories, books, enchanted materials that sort of thing? I should have thought a nation as advanced as yours should not have troubles with such simple things."
"Unfortunately they seem to have certain inherent qualities that only magical production methods can produce."
"In that case we are certainly perfectly willing to supply these paraphernalia once a year for as long as you would require, indeed if you need any additional due to the Crusade we would consent to provide that too."
"I do not think that would be necessary, but there is one thing would you mind if our payment was made incrementally? That is 20 Million pounds a month for seven months?"
"Not at all Excellency, by this do you mean payment beginning after delivery?"
"Of course, after all we trust you entirely but payment upon delivery appears to be the standard."
"Quite, in that case there is one other minor item, so small it is bothersome to mention but... as I understand it your knowledge of psychology and the conventional side thereof, and of ... medical matters is far advanced beyond ours, would you consider granting us a research treaty?"
Armagnac considered carefully, then he replied simply "Of course, but then we reduce the payment for the mages to twenty million pounds a month for five months, and you will of course pick up the tab for any extraneous expenses related to this."
At this they concluded their arrangement and signed it, finding that both sides viewed it as quite equitable to them. Thus the "Treaty of Trade, Research and Mutual Friendship between the Fourth Paradisium Republic and the Free Republic of Pendleton" was signed, written in Frankish (or French as the Pendletonians called it).
Erde
30 April 1005 NE
Stealth Fast Attack Ship Yatagan
The Yatagan was a submarine shape with tapered ends, much like a Platan cigar, from this shape there were a couple of light bulges housing sensors or weapons platforms, bulges that made the ship slightly blockier but without disturbing the harmony of the hull. Though there were no great oddities or surprises the ship nevertheless drew the eye searching for something special to help catalogue it, but finding it distinctive in its indistinctiveness.
Within the elegant and most comfortable bridge the tall handsome figure peered over his instruments before speaking out "Captain, we have left the Terminus and are inside the new system."
"Ah very good! Helmsman, take us further within the system, let us see what can be found here," the grey haired Captain Armagnac announced from his chair.
With a slight shudder the ship arched forward, its engines carefully baffled by a cunning innovative system to conceal them from hostile eyes, and thus they could advance in relative privacy into the system. They had heard things about the people here, but with the communists nearby it always boded well to be cautious and circumspect.
The Comms man sat listening to the radio traffic, the laughably limited radio traffic that is, that traversed through this system, but soon enough he heard language that he recognised however corrupted and accented it might be "My Captain! I am picking up a broadcast in Frankish!"
"Mon Dieu!" Captain Armagnac said "Put it on the loudspeakers right away that we might hear!"
The broadcast crackled and sparked as it came on, despite the efforts of the officer of communications to clean it up, but the voice that came through spoke an old fashioned and peculiarly accented language that was nevertheless clearly recognisable as Frankish.
"Dear listeners, ladies and gentlemen, you are listening to the News of the Day, and please remember that this broCRACKLEonsored by Chocolat Amateller and Vin Mariani."
"Our contact with the systems surrounding us is continuing to grow, the Ambassador of the Kingdom of Thersonia CRACKLE ... ontinue ... CRACKLE ...ship."
"In other news the National Defence Bill has passed successfully with news of increased Communist infiltration of our surrounding systems, the dark shadow of the wicked government of Xannis Sevenya could not help but to influence the vote in both the Commons and the Senate ... CRACKLE ... ster of War General Francisco Santini said in a pre... CRACKLE ... essential for our National Security, that the flame of liberty that our Republic constitutes shall never be allowed to die!"
"On a more domestic front, if you excuse the exp...CRACKLE ...mpionship continues to draw record crowds, there is great excitement about the meeting of Real Santiago and Freie Utmark FV, this will be a veritabl... CRACKLE ... and I am quite certain that my esteemed colleague Monsieur Molyneux will give an ... CRACKLE ...casion."
"The wanted murderer Dr Bueller was arrested today aboard the airship Olympic, suspec... CRACKLE ...atements outraged many before his escape regard... CRACKLE ...e subject of so called Angel Makers. Dr Bueller will receive a tight escort on his way back to Pendleton where he will stand trial for his crimes."
"Happier news is now that ... CRACKLE ... chance to try out the latest innovative weapons of our great army. Our correspondent informs us that a good time was had by all, and many young boys were disappointed when they were told that they had to be 21 to jo... CRACKLE ...brance of youth."
"The esteemed Members of Parliament Monsieur August Lavelle and William Burroughs once mo ... CRACKLE ... ey referred to as the 'Cruel injustices done to the poor of ... CRACKLE ... lic' and once more proposed that the so called Lavelle Plan be implemented. This was greeted by boos and jeers from the conservative side ... CRACKLE ... Lavelle maintains that his ... CRACKLE ... deal with urban poverty."
"In the Senate Bishop Stubblefield broke his customary silence on legislative matters to refer to the Lavelle plan as 'A monstrous assault on ... CRACKLE ... the principle of minimal government imposi ... CRACKLE ... ople'. Known reformist Lord Scoresby supported the Lavelle plan as being 'Cheap, humane, and far from drain ... CRACKLE ... ther reform plan the Lavelle Plan will in fact pay ... CRACKLE ... hin a few years."
The news continued for a while in that vein, while the bridge crew sat silent and enraptured finding themselves somehow transported back many centuries to a different age. The news that followed was often rather local dealing primarily with an area referred to as "Nouveau Aquitaine". There were several small advertisement spots following this giving ads for cigarettes "Singers and speakers smoke Teddy Cigarettes for the smoothest smoke", soaps "Avonlea Soap, the secret of that incomparably fair and smooth skin", wines "Pernod the smooth taste of aniseed", and even automobiles "The Dobble Steam Carriage for unparalleled Reliability, for Luxury, perfect for the Young Gentleman setting up a new home."
Captain Armagnac thought for a while on how to handle this, he had been temporarily permitted to act as an ambassador and negotiator for the Fourth Paradisium Republic but this was a brand new system though one that should be approachable.
"Communications Officer, immediately let our presence be known and request diplomatic contact," Captain Armagnac informed his crew.
"Yes My Captain!"
Pendleton
Erde
1 May 1005 NE
Croneleigh Spaceport
The Frankish shuttle touched down at the Spaceport of Croneleigh, it was to their eyes a rather disappointing place, indeed if not for the warfleet in orbit they would have tended to think that this place was too primitive to be concerned with. However looks could often be deceptive, as indeed the example of Tintagel would have taught many, magic could be a great equaliser and magic was something that they hoped to find here.
Outside the shuttle a pair of pages quickly rolled out a long green carpet, partly for showing respect, but also partly to keep the dignitaries shoes from sticking to the fresh tarmac which had been laid down the past two weeks.
Captain Armagnac felt somewhat curious about this, but he was not about to look like a gawking tourist in front of strangers, and so wearing his full dress uniform he descended with all the pride and dignity of the Frankish race.
The area where he found himself was a most peculiar spot, to say the least, but this didn't worry him overmuch either for the picturesque landscape did in some respects remind him of old paintings that he had seen of Franco Domine in ages long, long gone.
He was greeted in a most polite fashion, and addressed in slightly accented Frankish, though if this was due to Frankish not being Minister Alfords native language, or if it was an artefact of the local tongue that he could not tell just yet.
"Monsieur le Minister," Captain Armagnac said "I am Captain Jean-Paul Armagnac of the Marine Nationale of the Fourth Paradisium Republic! I come offering the friendship of the Glorious Fourth Paradisium Republic to all freedom loving peoples wherever situated."
"You are most welcome, the Free Republic of Pendleton desires Friendship and Commerce with all nations, as long as they are not Communist," Minister Alford replied without batting an eyelid, though struggling somewhat to keep up with Captain Armagnacs French.
Ministry of Foreign Affairs
Pendleton was a most peculiar place Captain Armagnac realised, in the short period he had been here he had ascertained many peculiar facts about them, including that magic most certainly existed here and yet this was a fact that they kept denying in public even as they used it for all their medical services.
It was also peculiar in that it was so backwards, even though the room he was in had a certain charm, with its old fashioned furniture, burgeoning bookcases filled with leather bound books, and countless odd knickknacks cluttering every single available surface; indeed even something as simple as the waste basket was covered in lacy ornamentation. Still as he sipped the Aquitainian brandy he had to acknowledge that they had some redeeming qualities.
That however was not what was really on his mind, rather it was his pressing matter could not wait for a moment longer, and at the very least he could make some inquiries here and now.
"Minister, I must ask you now what are your magic levels," Armagnac asked flat out.
Alford seemed quite uncomfortable, he sipped his brandy to recover, after licking his lip very discretely he answered "Our magic is a sensitive subject, but Captain I can assure you that our magic is equal to that of any other power, and indeed exceeds that of both Rum and Ohmshire from what we've learned."
"Would you consider selling to us some of this magic?"
"I say! Hiring you some mages, at reasonable rates of course Sir, that we may do, but our laws prohibit the actual sale of mages to foreigners."
"Non Monsieur le Minister, I fear you misunderstand me! We the people of the Fourth Paradisium Republic are involved in an epic crusade against the Mind Flayers over the world of Montpelier, and to aid us in this momentous struggle we need magics; alas our world has long forgotten the magics that made us great, and though we struggle against this evil and have struck many grand blows against it we still seek whatever additional force we may have to grand us victory, and to keep all peoples safe from this our ancient foe!"
"Mind flayers? I fear I have no intelligence of these creatures," Alford said even as he gently squeezed the memory orb in the arm of his chair to ensure that this conversation would be recorded for posterity.
"It is a long and terrible story, marked by the acts of great heroism of our people, and it all begins when our glorious Empereur Napoleon XXXIX discovered that a new starway had opened to the lost world of Montpelier..." and here followed the story of the lost world of Montpelier and all the horrors discovered there even before the arrival of the Mind Flayers and of the great struggles fought there, and the great valour and courage of the Franks.
Ending his tale Armagnac continued "So Monsieur Minister, we should be most delighted if you would train some Franks for our noble struggle, and we would pay you for the time and resources expended thus."
"A week ago Captain Armagnac the answer would have been no, but oddly enough certain changed circumstances mean that ... what did you have in mind?"
"I believe the formal name is Master Mages of which we should like to have a score or so, not trained beyond the base magic levels."
Alford coughed "I cannot commit to this without consulting the rest of the government, and this subject is most sensitive..." he looked pensive then he asked "How would you feel about enjoying the hospitality of the Bruxellois? It is a city in Nouveau Aquitaine and it has much to recommend it, including, ah, an academy in the arts that you inquire about."
"I have no problems with this, but I must say that we need to resolve this with the greatest haste, the Crusade moves onwards and waits for no one."
Bruxelle
Nouveau Aquitaine
Erde
2 May 1005 NE
Chateau le Faun
Nouveau Aquitaine was a very lovely place through the entire province the river Atanya ran like a blue silk ribbon, and alongside this great river a very excellent civilization had arisen. Here were centuries old castles that looked like they had leapt out of some fairy tale with tall towers and pennants and banners fluttering in the wind, and genuine knights and noble ladies though they no longer wore armour or jousted for a ladies hand.
Naturally you also had the cities with great cathedrals stretching towards the sky, the result of centuries of vast expenditure by Aquitainian nobles who shoed no expense to show their wealth and purchase their way out of purgatory. Within each Cathedral you would find engraved images of the nobles that built it, and beneath them you would often find sepulchres and ancient tombs where the likeness of the nobles within were carved on the lid; showing that here class difference lasted even into death. Nor had this ended in modern time, for the likeness of the features upon those sepulchres could be seen even today upon the faces of the current generation of nobles.
It was the cities though that fascinated Captain Armagnac, for here you had the lively cities of the Frankish race with its countless small businesses and stores where lively debate could always be heard. Then there were the dozens of small restaurants and bistros, a couple on every street you might find where the local commune wine, and the blood of any fool that insulted it, flowed freely.
For now however Captain Armagnac was delighted by the attention of his host, the General Count Bartholomew de Faun, who was all in all a splendid gentleman who knew perfectly well how to treat his guests. They had earlier taken a tour of the magic school and there Armagnac had been given some small demonstration of their prowess, enough to convince him that they did indeed possess the powers they claimed. Now they were relaxing in his parlour, enjoying the smooth strong flavour of the Aquitainian Brandies.
"Now Monsieur le Commme," Armagnac asked politely "If you are French descendant of the Napoleonic Empire then you should know about the Paradisium Republics."
"Alas Monsieur Captaine," Count de Faun said "We know very little of the God War, or the period preceding it, I fear that the thirty mile wide crater lake where the main city of the original colony once stood is symbolic enough of our fate during this war."
"Ah yes, the God War was a most foul and unpleasant time, but surely something must have survived?"
"Indeed some things have, but they are, ah..." Count de Faun motioned with his hand "Rimbaud!" he called.
At once a distinguished man with dark hair, handsome but slightly sallow features, and an impeccable suit and demeanour appeared and bowed slightly "The Master called?"
"Yes Rimbaud, would you please fetch the book I was reading?"
"Of course Master," Rimbaud said before he bowed again and then absented himself to recover the tome.
Noticing Armagnacs somewhat bothered look Count de Faun asked "Ah I see that the rumours of the off worlders is true, many of you have trouble with our... ah peculiar institution."
"Monsieur le Comte, I must say this is true, we the people of the Fourth Paradisium Republic have fought long and hard for all men to be free of Flayer slavery and so we are uncomfortable with it where we find it. We stand up for freedom and human dignity, under the leadership of a great beacon for freedom, liberte, egalite, fraternite ou la mort!"
"I hope though that you do not think we are as bad as the flayers! At least we are human as are they" Count de Faun announced "Yet I have two arguments to offer in defence of slavery, first that the creature comforts afforded to slaves are far greater than those found among the poor workers of our cities, and second that the rights of man include our property rights and as such one can surely not be deprived of ones animate property!"
"Perhaps this is true, but I fear Monsieur le Comme that we cannot really come to an agreement at this time."
"Tis a pity yes, but it's a difficult subject filled with tones of grey, as a Christian I recognise this even as I struggle to fulfil the obligations of a good master... ah but here is Rimbaud with my book!"
Indeed Rimbaud returned holding a large leatherbound volume, the leather was brown and somewhat cracked, and the paper seemed very ancient but still it was mostly white. With reverence Rimbaud placed the book upon the table and bowed to his master and guest "Your book Master."
"Good Rimbaud, you are excused."
"Yes Master," Rimbaud said as he bowed and absented himself.
"Now them," Count de Faun found his book mark and opened the page revealing a striking hand painting of a man holding a tricolour, it was part of the decoration of the page which appeared to have been done by hand like most of the writing "The Third Paradisium Republic..."
"In the years of war there had risen a Great Republic that they called the Third Paradisium Republic, and its splendour was as that of Great Quedlimburgi. The Republics Colours were Red, White and Blue, and with these Colours they waged war upon the very heavens and were thrown down. This then is their tragic history..."
Count de Faun read from the book, some of this was familiar to Armagnac, but other things were peculiar, if not absurd, and seeing the frown upon his guests brow Count de Faun smiled and explained "There are some notes on the Paradisium Republic in our books, but do understand that these books are the result of hundreds of monks copying books for four hundred years with little fact checking."
"Well it is true that we are the sworn enemies of the Mind Flayers. One of the Napoleons beat down their god and imprisoned it in the dynastic sword, which Napoleon XXXIX has recently recovered!" Captain Armagnac mused "So who knows what else might be true?"
Politely Count de Faun refrained from commenting adversely on this, though to his ear it sounded more like political mythology than reality.
"You should join the Fourth Paradisium Republic, Napoleon XXXIX declared it recently, changing the Imperial Frankish Dominion into a more hereditary state."
"Alas our government is rather heavily concerned with domestic affairs at this time, so we cannot commit ourselves there, but between you and me I think that we could probably reach an accommodation on the other matter."
Bruxelle
Nouveau Aquitaine
Erde
9 May 1005 NE
Chateau le Faun
The negotiations had gone on and off for days now, the setting was of course splendid and Captain Armagnac had never had cause to complain of their hospitality, which was uniformly excellent. Yet the negotiations did drag on for a bit, not least because every now and again Armagnac reached the end of his charter and had to send for confirmation or advice from Franco Domine.
Thus for the sake of brevity here is a heavily abbreviated account of the negotiations, but which nevertheless show the back and forth that occurred during them.
The negotiations began with stating the obvious, at least from the Pendletonian point of view that a reasonable price would be 200 WU. It was an involved argument but not an unreasonable one given how hard it would be to awaken a magical talent and train them in such a short period of time. Indeed the mystical forces that suffused Pendleton seemed to be somewhat limited in how much new talent it would support in any one year.
"That is the price others have quoted to us too, we're not saying it is unreasonable, just that it is rather more than we are willing to pay." Armagnac explained forthright "Being ardent capitalists I hope you understand Minister."
"Well we may be able to make a deal anyway, tell me what trading arrangements do you have Excellency?"
"For trade goods you mean?"
"Indeed yes."
"None as far as I know, we used to export some but this ended due to certain unfortunate events."
"Ah quite so, if you were willing to sign a trading treaty with us we might be able to make this deal for mages at a much lower cost."
Armagnac hesitated for a moment as he thought Hardly unreasonable, especially since both sides benefit, indeed it will be very popular with the people who would greatly enjoy the exotic goods "I think that would be very agreeable, the Fourth Republic has 105 million citizens by the way. However given the war the people are more than willing to tighten their belt buckles so we only need 260 thousand standard tons of trade goods."
"I see, in this case we might offer to train the mages for 175 million pounds."
"Well, although we do not need more than 260 thousand standard tons you could send more to help lower the price a bit."
"Certainly Excellency, if we could send 130 thousand standard tons of trade good units in March, June, September and December then that would be most agreeable and we could lower the price to 150 million pounds."
"I see, a hundred and fifty," Armagnac leaned back and looked at his host "As reasonable as it is, we are still not completely comfortable paying that much for these mages, especially as we are not a magical nation."
"We could of course borrow you some of our mages to help supplement yours during this war."
"Alas this would not sort out the inherent problems of a non-magical power trying to integrate mages into its Order of Battle."
"That is true Excellency, but our mages are very experienced and could corset the ones we train for you... that said how about 140 Million pounds and you can borrow a couple of our Masters of Magic for a while."
"Once more Minister we don't really need your Masters of Magic, but how about 140 Million pounds and you supply us with the various paraphernalia that mages require to function properly."
"You mean the laboratories, books, enchanted materials that sort of thing? I should have thought a nation as advanced as yours should not have troubles with such simple things."
"Unfortunately they seem to have certain inherent qualities that only magical production methods can produce."
"In that case we are certainly perfectly willing to supply these paraphernalia once a year for as long as you would require, indeed if you need any additional due to the Crusade we would consent to provide that too."
"I do not think that would be necessary, but there is one thing would you mind if our payment was made incrementally? That is 20 Million pounds a month for seven months?"
"Not at all Excellency, by this do you mean payment beginning after delivery?"
"Of course, after all we trust you entirely but payment upon delivery appears to be the standard."
"Quite, in that case there is one other minor item, so small it is bothersome to mention but... as I understand it your knowledge of psychology and the conventional side thereof, and of ... medical matters is far advanced beyond ours, would you consider granting us a research treaty?"
Armagnac considered carefully, then he replied simply "Of course, but then we reduce the payment for the mages to twenty million pounds a month for five months, and you will of course pick up the tab for any extraneous expenses related to this."
At this they concluded their arrangement and signed it, finding that both sides viewed it as quite equitable to them. Thus the "Treaty of Trade, Research and Mutual Friendship between the Fourth Paradisium Republic and the Free Republic of Pendleton" was signed, written in Frankish (or French as the Pendletonians called it).
Last edited by Norseman on 2005-05-11 02:18pm, edited 1 time in total.
There is Madness in Their Method Part I
Bruxelle
Nouveau Aquitaine
Erde
9 May 1005 NE
Hotel d'Ville
The Hotell d'Ville, or Town Hall in English, was a magnificent old stone building in the old Gothic style with its arches supported by discrete pillars and decorative windows with old fashioned lead and glass divisions. The tower was capped by a statue of St Michael and stretched slightly over three hundred and sixty feet into the air, making it a principal landmark in Bruxelles and also had an excellent view. It was a prime example of early Gothic styles, before the exaggerated or "Rogue Gothic" fashion led by Pendleton and Avonlea surplanted the original true Gothic.
Aside from its ancient architecture it did have other things to recommend it namely the fact that since recent restructuring it had some available offices and the tower created an excellent vantage point if you wanted to keep an eye on the city.
For Inspector Day the perch on top of the tower was interesting though a tad drafty, but the warm May winds didn't bother him as much as they would have in Pendleton proper. Right now he was watching one of the Frankish officers, a handsome dark haired fellow in their characteristic uniforms, sitting in one of the many restaurant in the Grand Square. Through the powerful binoculars Day could see that the Frank was eating some kind of meat dish and drinking copious amounts of the house wine, indeed Day could almost read the etiquette from here.
Day lowered his binoculars and turned his attention to the other people up in the perch with him, a pair of plain clothes Gendarmes who also carried with them several powerful telescopes and also a large camera.
"Tell me Sergeant," he asked "Do you ever spot anything from up here that you can't learn better on the ground?"
"Naturellement!" the Sergeant said, and then with some awkwardness he changed to a heavily accented English "Of coorze Zeer we zee many zeengz zeez way, like reeotz or firez or traffeec jamz even."
"I meant with keeping an eye on individuals!" Day said trying to keep his voice even.
"Certaeenly provide zat zey remaeen een ze Grande Place where we can zee zem plaeenly and don't wander aroond een ze zide alleyz" the Sergeant gave a Gallic shrug as he added "If zey do zeez zen we may 'ave a little problem."
"That does it Sergeant, I'm going back down," Day announced as he begun the descent down the narrow and very steep stairs leading back to the Hotel d'Ville, the steps creaked under his feet and as he peered down he wondered how many centuries it had been since they had last been repaired.
Meanwhile on the street
Lieutenant Depardieu finished his meal and daubed his mouth with the soft linen napkins making certain that he cleaned his moustache which was, if he might say so himself and he often did a work of art. He sipped some more wine and then set back to the favourite activity of Nouveau Aquitaine on a warm spring morning, that is of course people watching.
Ah this was the life as far as he was concerned, good weather, cheap dining, and good food and wine too, this local commune wine was delightful, and of course the people! Ah the people, how many beautiful young mademoiselles could one city hold! He did not know, but he was definitely going to find out, and of course his eyes did not neglect the lovely serving girls of the restaurant itself though he still needed to remind himself that the friendly girls with the slightly short skirts were alas, how unfortunate, the chattels of the restauranteur.
The one they called Yvette though, ah yes she was winking at him, what a charming young woman and her accent was so delightful too. He was indeed considering how to undertake his next move, and when she came to present the bill he gave her a good tip which seemed to please her even more as she smiled at him and fluttered her long eyelashes.
Inside the Hotel d'Ville
In the improvised, very improvised rather as much of the furniture was still covered by various drapes, Chief Inspector Lebrija had found a nice desk with a semi-comfortable chair to sit on. The crystal ashtray on his desk was already filled with cigarillo stumps and the local servants were constantly arriving to exchange the silver coffee pot with a new one. In short he found himself quite busy, constantly having to co-ordinate matters and to make and receive phone calls.
Just as he finished one thing one of the two telephones on his desk rang, the one reserved for incoming calls, he picked up the white porcelain and brass receiver "Chief Inspector Lebrija."
"Blue Jay!"
"Quite," he sat up a bit at this as Blue Jay was the password to tell him a call came from the HQ, though the crackling line with the peculiar background noise told him that it was long distance "I am listening".
"Something of an emergency up at Croneleigh Chief Inspector, your presence is required."
"Croneleigh is some distance away you know" Whomever you are
"Someone should be coming over"
Even as he spoke there was a quick knock on the door and as Lebrija looked up he saw an eager young man standing in the door opening, he was wearing a uniform with a compass and lightning bolt design on the shoulder tabs.
"Tall, young, strawberry blonde hair," Lebrija asked.
"That's the one Chief Inspector"
"Anything else?"
"No Chief Inspector, ah, goodbye"
"Goodbye" Lebrija said as he placed the receiver back down, then he looked up at the young man "So do we need batwings and sulphur or can we just go?"
"We'll go right away Sir," the young man replied "I got everything settled Sir, I just need to stand close."
Lebrija got up and walked towards the young man while making sure that his coat and shirt was in order, then as they were close enough the young fellow embraced Lebrija closely. Feeling rather uncomfortable Lebrija whispered "You didn't by any chance graduate from Bambridge did you Inspector?"
"What?" the young man seemed genuinely confused until suddenly understanding and a blush crossed his face "No SIR nothing like that!" Apparently he decided to save himself more embarrassment for at that precise moment everything seemed to shift and twist and then suddenly they were somewhere else..."
Nouveau Aquitaine
Erde
9 May 1005 NE
Hotel d'Ville
The Hotell d'Ville, or Town Hall in English, was a magnificent old stone building in the old Gothic style with its arches supported by discrete pillars and decorative windows with old fashioned lead and glass divisions. The tower was capped by a statue of St Michael and stretched slightly over three hundred and sixty feet into the air, making it a principal landmark in Bruxelles and also had an excellent view. It was a prime example of early Gothic styles, before the exaggerated or "Rogue Gothic" fashion led by Pendleton and Avonlea surplanted the original true Gothic.
Aside from its ancient architecture it did have other things to recommend it namely the fact that since recent restructuring it had some available offices and the tower created an excellent vantage point if you wanted to keep an eye on the city.
For Inspector Day the perch on top of the tower was interesting though a tad drafty, but the warm May winds didn't bother him as much as they would have in Pendleton proper. Right now he was watching one of the Frankish officers, a handsome dark haired fellow in their characteristic uniforms, sitting in one of the many restaurant in the Grand Square. Through the powerful binoculars Day could see that the Frank was eating some kind of meat dish and drinking copious amounts of the house wine, indeed Day could almost read the etiquette from here.
Day lowered his binoculars and turned his attention to the other people up in the perch with him, a pair of plain clothes Gendarmes who also carried with them several powerful telescopes and also a large camera.
"Tell me Sergeant," he asked "Do you ever spot anything from up here that you can't learn better on the ground?"
"Naturellement!" the Sergeant said, and then with some awkwardness he changed to a heavily accented English "Of coorze Zeer we zee many zeengz zeez way, like reeotz or firez or traffeec jamz even."
"I meant with keeping an eye on individuals!" Day said trying to keep his voice even.
"Certaeenly provide zat zey remaeen een ze Grande Place where we can zee zem plaeenly and don't wander aroond een ze zide alleyz" the Sergeant gave a Gallic shrug as he added "If zey do zeez zen we may 'ave a little problem."
"That does it Sergeant, I'm going back down," Day announced as he begun the descent down the narrow and very steep stairs leading back to the Hotel d'Ville, the steps creaked under his feet and as he peered down he wondered how many centuries it had been since they had last been repaired.
Meanwhile on the street
Lieutenant Depardieu finished his meal and daubed his mouth with the soft linen napkins making certain that he cleaned his moustache which was, if he might say so himself and he often did a work of art. He sipped some more wine and then set back to the favourite activity of Nouveau Aquitaine on a warm spring morning, that is of course people watching.
Ah this was the life as far as he was concerned, good weather, cheap dining, and good food and wine too, this local commune wine was delightful, and of course the people! Ah the people, how many beautiful young mademoiselles could one city hold! He did not know, but he was definitely going to find out, and of course his eyes did not neglect the lovely serving girls of the restaurant itself though he still needed to remind himself that the friendly girls with the slightly short skirts were alas, how unfortunate, the chattels of the restauranteur.
The one they called Yvette though, ah yes she was winking at him, what a charming young woman and her accent was so delightful too. He was indeed considering how to undertake his next move, and when she came to present the bill he gave her a good tip which seemed to please her even more as she smiled at him and fluttered her long eyelashes.
Inside the Hotel d'Ville
In the improvised, very improvised rather as much of the furniture was still covered by various drapes, Chief Inspector Lebrija had found a nice desk with a semi-comfortable chair to sit on. The crystal ashtray on his desk was already filled with cigarillo stumps and the local servants were constantly arriving to exchange the silver coffee pot with a new one. In short he found himself quite busy, constantly having to co-ordinate matters and to make and receive phone calls.
Just as he finished one thing one of the two telephones on his desk rang, the one reserved for incoming calls, he picked up the white porcelain and brass receiver "Chief Inspector Lebrija."
"Blue Jay!"
"Quite," he sat up a bit at this as Blue Jay was the password to tell him a call came from the HQ, though the crackling line with the peculiar background noise told him that it was long distance "I am listening".
"Something of an emergency up at Croneleigh Chief Inspector, your presence is required."
"Croneleigh is some distance away you know" Whomever you are
"Someone should be coming over"
Even as he spoke there was a quick knock on the door and as Lebrija looked up he saw an eager young man standing in the door opening, he was wearing a uniform with a compass and lightning bolt design on the shoulder tabs.
"Tall, young, strawberry blonde hair," Lebrija asked.
"That's the one Chief Inspector"
"Anything else?"
"No Chief Inspector, ah, goodbye"
"Goodbye" Lebrija said as he placed the receiver back down, then he looked up at the young man "So do we need batwings and sulphur or can we just go?"
"We'll go right away Sir," the young man replied "I got everything settled Sir, I just need to stand close."
Lebrija got up and walked towards the young man while making sure that his coat and shirt was in order, then as they were close enough the young fellow embraced Lebrija closely. Feeling rather uncomfortable Lebrija whispered "You didn't by any chance graduate from Bambridge did you Inspector?"
"What?" the young man seemed genuinely confused until suddenly understanding and a blush crossed his face "No SIR nothing like that!" Apparently he decided to save himself more embarrassment for at that precise moment everything seemed to shift and twist and then suddenly they were somewhere else..."
There is Madness in Their Method Part II
Croneleigh Spaceport
They arrived a somewhat large room deep inside one of the main buildings, it had a very simple wooden floor and basically no furniture, additionally aside from Inspector Day and another mage there were no people.
"Morning Sir" Day said as he saw Lebrija had arrived.
Lebrija nodded back "I think it's afternoon by now Mr Day," turning to the mage he added "Where is the emergency?"
"Wireless room I believe Sir," the one who brought Lebrija said.
At this point fortunately the door opened and a uniformed sergeant peered in, the gold braid making accentuating his already impressive physique, "Gentlemen, the guv'nor is expecting you, I'll lead the way."
As they walked through the oak panelled corridors of Croneleigh airport Lebrija felt curious of one thing "I say sergeant, why weren't you waiting for us inside the ... ah arrival room."
The large sergeant seemed a bit embarrassed, but then he said "Well Sir, you know I hear if you see folks poppin' out of nowhere that you go right insane Sir."
"I see," Lebrija said looking towards Day who apparently pretended not to hear the conversation at all.
Soon enough they reached the section where the wireless room was, outside of it there was a long clothes rack upon which hung a large number and variety of jackets and coats. Seeing that the halls were not over warm this puzzled the two for a bit, and they didn't hang up their jackets something which caused a glint of amusement in the sergeants eyes.
"Right Sirs, here we are," he said as he opened the door and stepped aside, the two of them stepped into the room only to be struck by a blast of hot air that resembled day time in the Southern Islands more than anything found in civilized lands.
From deep inside the room, which was lit up by the light of incandescent bulbs and flickering vacuum tubes, there came a call "Take your coats of please, it's a bit warm in here." Rather sheepishly the two detectives did just that before once more entering the room, looking around it to see what was happening.
The room was not one of the nice tidy ones that guests would be shown, rather it was quite chaotic with big bulky machines covering the entirety of a wall and a dozen or so technicians tending to them as best as they could. The warmth given of these machines was palpable, and to keep up with the lost vacuum tubes there were a couple of young men walking around with wooden trays, similar to those carried by cigarette girls, filled with vacuum tubes ready to test and exchange any of them that went bad.
Of course what was really interesting was the quality of the others present, Lebrija recognised Ponsonby, Minister Alfords aide, as well as Mr Jones a relative cipher from BOSS, and of course the redoubtable Master of the spaceport standing slightly to the back.
"So what is the emergency gentlemen?" Lebrija asked casually.
The assembled men looked at him, a drop of sweat rolled down Ponsonby's brow and he wiped it with his handkerchief "A new contact, a new power Sir Anthony."
"With respect Mr Ponsonby this is a wonderful opportunity for either the Foreign Ministry or the Navy," Lebrija said "Not the Gendarmes."
Mr Jones smiled crookedly but kept silent as Ponsonby explained "We are summoning everyone with experience with such matters... extra-erdians that is, this new group is difficult." Ponsonby gently tapped one of the technicians on the shoulder and said "Harris please play the recording."
Harris nodded, then he reached out and flipped a switch, almost instantaneously there was a strange screeching sound but then slightly slurred came the recorded sounds.
"R'ma's sum m've pax v'biscim"
It carried on in that way for the longest time, it was not speak either it was more like a very peculiar form of song where the lilt changed radically according to incomprehensible rules. Neither the spoken matter nor the music seemed to make much sense to anyone except Lebrija whose brow furrowed a bit roughly halfway through the recording.
As the recording finally drew to a halt Lebrija offered his judgement "It's Latin like the devil himself spoke it, but it is Latin."
Ponsonby and Jones both seemed quite surprised by this, but the technician who was responsible for the recording crossed himself and said out loud "Thank you blessed Saint Jerome for interceding for us!"
"That's quite enough Harris" the Spaceport Master warned, though without any real severity in his voice.
"I say Sir Anthony," Ponsonby said clearly surprised "I'd never have guessed it to be Latin, what did they say?"
Lebrija shrugged a bit "To be honest I did not get it all, they said something about being the Romans, or R'mans, that they wished us peace and that they came to do something about brilliant pebbles or diamonds and those that serve in the forces of light," he said as he pulled out a cigarillo and looked for a light, Harris fortunately pulled out a Lucifer and ripped it against the surface of the table "Thank you Harris."
"I say," Day commented "If I ever spoke Latin like that when I was in school I wouldn't be able to sit down ever again."
There was some laughter at that remark, but Lebrija commented "Many a truth spoken in jest Mr Day, obviously Latin for them is a living language and has changed as much from Cicero's Latin as Spanish or French has."
"Well then with some luck they should be able to understand our Latin, which, if I may say so myself, is very fine," Ponsonby opined, then clearing his throat a bit he leaned forward and said "Harris give me a line on the same frequency that the aliens used."
"Yes Sir," Harris said as he gently twisted one of the dimly illuminated knobs on the enormous wireless "There you are Sir, please let me know when you want to send."
"Now Harris," Ponsonby said, at once Harris obediently pressed the button and there were some crackling sounds as Ponsonby said, in Latin of course "Greetings! We the People of the Free Republic of Pendleton greet you and bid you welcome! We seek peace and trade with all." Then he nodded again to Harris who let go of the button.
There was a long pause, indeed there was a very long pause, then suddenly another wireless man called out "Sirs! They are ... they are communicating with one of our ships, they are sending morse code by way of a lamp Sir."
Stunned silence filled the room, finally Day spoke up "Hey! Let me get this straight," he said as he walked over to the technician "They got wireless?"
"OY!" Harris called "Excuse me Sir but as the head of the wireless section I'd appreciate it if communications go through me."
Day turned towards Harris and asked simply "Do they?"
"Yes Sir they got wireless."
"They know that we got wireless?"
"I don't know Sir, but unless they are not listening on the same frequency as they are sending they ought to know."
Day blinked, then finally he said "So why... oh why are they suddenly using a bloody heliograph?"
"I wouldn't know Sir," Harris said "They're inscrutable aliens Sir."
"Raise the ship," Mr Jones suddenly said.
"Sir?" Harris asked.
Mr Jones turned towards Harris "Contact the ship that is seeing this and place the response on the speaker that we may all hear it, ask what they are seeing and then ask them to relay the morse signals to us."
Neither Lebrija nor Day like it but the BOSS agent made a lot of sense, certainly the people in the Deep Sky would have a better view of the situation than the groundlings.
After Ponsonby gave the nod Harris switched the dial again and then spoke into the microphone "This is Croneleigh Spaceport under the Authority of Permanent Undersecretary of Foreign Affairs Ponsonby and the Joint Bureau of Diplomatic Security, requesting a description of alien vessel and a relay of any received morse code."
"Description of the space ship is... it's a perfectly symmetrical it looks like a smooth vaguely dolphin like shape carved from crystal, there is no obvious propulsion mechanism of any kind nor are there any observable recognisable weapons platforms. The vessel is sending out signals in Morse code, the light is strong and indeed the beam lights up part of our hull each time it flashes."
Moments later on a different channel a series of dots and lines in morse code began to arrive, being immediately and quickly transferred onto paper to be translated as well as possible. Fortunately it was not too difficult to translate it into English once it was written down, since with a couple of good Latinists, one native Spanish speaker, and much experience with French it was not too hard to figure out a new Romance language.
The problem did not come before the message had been well and duly translated, Harris who had been acting as the impromptu secretary held it up and read out loud "We seek those able to serve in the forces of light. They, a thousand meeting our requirements, should be accustomed to service. Many are the ways leading to bushels of gold but only one leads to star like diamonds."
There was silence, then finally Ponsonby spoke up "Gentlemen I think I must concede defeat, for I cannot for the life of me comprehend what this message meant."
"Perhaps we should seek aide from those better acquainted with such matters," Mr Jones mused as he thoughtfully rubbed his chin.
At this Day leaned towards Lebrija and they exchanged a few whispered words, after which Lebrija nodded in agreement.
"We have none among ourselves but," Lebrija begun, letting there be a pause to get everyones attention before he continued "I know of a Frank that might be of help, if we are agreed that this matter is beyond us, urgent, and cannot be kept secret."
"A foreigner? Here! I..." Mr Jones begun, but Ponsonby held up his hand cutting the spy short.
"Sir Anthony, the Franks are so distant from us, and so important to us, that we are relying on their good will as it is, so I am inclined to act upon your suggestion," Ponsonby said, then turning to Mr Jones he added "After all people can always be persuaded to forget afterwards, yes?"
Mr Jones nodded "Yes Sir, that is indeed so."
"Then we are agreed," Lebrija said "Now all I need is the services of those transport mages and I can handle the matter myself."
They arrived a somewhat large room deep inside one of the main buildings, it had a very simple wooden floor and basically no furniture, additionally aside from Inspector Day and another mage there were no people.
"Morning Sir" Day said as he saw Lebrija had arrived.
Lebrija nodded back "I think it's afternoon by now Mr Day," turning to the mage he added "Where is the emergency?"
"Wireless room I believe Sir," the one who brought Lebrija said.
At this point fortunately the door opened and a uniformed sergeant peered in, the gold braid making accentuating his already impressive physique, "Gentlemen, the guv'nor is expecting you, I'll lead the way."
As they walked through the oak panelled corridors of Croneleigh airport Lebrija felt curious of one thing "I say sergeant, why weren't you waiting for us inside the ... ah arrival room."
The large sergeant seemed a bit embarrassed, but then he said "Well Sir, you know I hear if you see folks poppin' out of nowhere that you go right insane Sir."
"I see," Lebrija said looking towards Day who apparently pretended not to hear the conversation at all.
Soon enough they reached the section where the wireless room was, outside of it there was a long clothes rack upon which hung a large number and variety of jackets and coats. Seeing that the halls were not over warm this puzzled the two for a bit, and they didn't hang up their jackets something which caused a glint of amusement in the sergeants eyes.
"Right Sirs, here we are," he said as he opened the door and stepped aside, the two of them stepped into the room only to be struck by a blast of hot air that resembled day time in the Southern Islands more than anything found in civilized lands.
From deep inside the room, which was lit up by the light of incandescent bulbs and flickering vacuum tubes, there came a call "Take your coats of please, it's a bit warm in here." Rather sheepishly the two detectives did just that before once more entering the room, looking around it to see what was happening.
The room was not one of the nice tidy ones that guests would be shown, rather it was quite chaotic with big bulky machines covering the entirety of a wall and a dozen or so technicians tending to them as best as they could. The warmth given of these machines was palpable, and to keep up with the lost vacuum tubes there were a couple of young men walking around with wooden trays, similar to those carried by cigarette girls, filled with vacuum tubes ready to test and exchange any of them that went bad.
Of course what was really interesting was the quality of the others present, Lebrija recognised Ponsonby, Minister Alfords aide, as well as Mr Jones a relative cipher from BOSS, and of course the redoubtable Master of the spaceport standing slightly to the back.
"So what is the emergency gentlemen?" Lebrija asked casually.
The assembled men looked at him, a drop of sweat rolled down Ponsonby's brow and he wiped it with his handkerchief "A new contact, a new power Sir Anthony."
"With respect Mr Ponsonby this is a wonderful opportunity for either the Foreign Ministry or the Navy," Lebrija said "Not the Gendarmes."
Mr Jones smiled crookedly but kept silent as Ponsonby explained "We are summoning everyone with experience with such matters... extra-erdians that is, this new group is difficult." Ponsonby gently tapped one of the technicians on the shoulder and said "Harris please play the recording."
Harris nodded, then he reached out and flipped a switch, almost instantaneously there was a strange screeching sound but then slightly slurred came the recorded sounds.
"R'ma's sum m've pax v'biscim"
It carried on in that way for the longest time, it was not speak either it was more like a very peculiar form of song where the lilt changed radically according to incomprehensible rules. Neither the spoken matter nor the music seemed to make much sense to anyone except Lebrija whose brow furrowed a bit roughly halfway through the recording.
As the recording finally drew to a halt Lebrija offered his judgement "It's Latin like the devil himself spoke it, but it is Latin."
Ponsonby and Jones both seemed quite surprised by this, but the technician who was responsible for the recording crossed himself and said out loud "Thank you blessed Saint Jerome for interceding for us!"
"That's quite enough Harris" the Spaceport Master warned, though without any real severity in his voice.
"I say Sir Anthony," Ponsonby said clearly surprised "I'd never have guessed it to be Latin, what did they say?"
Lebrija shrugged a bit "To be honest I did not get it all, they said something about being the Romans, or R'mans, that they wished us peace and that they came to do something about brilliant pebbles or diamonds and those that serve in the forces of light," he said as he pulled out a cigarillo and looked for a light, Harris fortunately pulled out a Lucifer and ripped it against the surface of the table "Thank you Harris."
"I say," Day commented "If I ever spoke Latin like that when I was in school I wouldn't be able to sit down ever again."
There was some laughter at that remark, but Lebrija commented "Many a truth spoken in jest Mr Day, obviously Latin for them is a living language and has changed as much from Cicero's Latin as Spanish or French has."
"Well then with some luck they should be able to understand our Latin, which, if I may say so myself, is very fine," Ponsonby opined, then clearing his throat a bit he leaned forward and said "Harris give me a line on the same frequency that the aliens used."
"Yes Sir," Harris said as he gently twisted one of the dimly illuminated knobs on the enormous wireless "There you are Sir, please let me know when you want to send."
"Now Harris," Ponsonby said, at once Harris obediently pressed the button and there were some crackling sounds as Ponsonby said, in Latin of course "Greetings! We the People of the Free Republic of Pendleton greet you and bid you welcome! We seek peace and trade with all." Then he nodded again to Harris who let go of the button.
There was a long pause, indeed there was a very long pause, then suddenly another wireless man called out "Sirs! They are ... they are communicating with one of our ships, they are sending morse code by way of a lamp Sir."
Stunned silence filled the room, finally Day spoke up "Hey! Let me get this straight," he said as he walked over to the technician "They got wireless?"
"OY!" Harris called "Excuse me Sir but as the head of the wireless section I'd appreciate it if communications go through me."
Day turned towards Harris and asked simply "Do they?"
"Yes Sir they got wireless."
"They know that we got wireless?"
"I don't know Sir, but unless they are not listening on the same frequency as they are sending they ought to know."
Day blinked, then finally he said "So why... oh why are they suddenly using a bloody heliograph?"
"I wouldn't know Sir," Harris said "They're inscrutable aliens Sir."
"Raise the ship," Mr Jones suddenly said.
"Sir?" Harris asked.
Mr Jones turned towards Harris "Contact the ship that is seeing this and place the response on the speaker that we may all hear it, ask what they are seeing and then ask them to relay the morse signals to us."
Neither Lebrija nor Day like it but the BOSS agent made a lot of sense, certainly the people in the Deep Sky would have a better view of the situation than the groundlings.
After Ponsonby gave the nod Harris switched the dial again and then spoke into the microphone "This is Croneleigh Spaceport under the Authority of Permanent Undersecretary of Foreign Affairs Ponsonby and the Joint Bureau of Diplomatic Security, requesting a description of alien vessel and a relay of any received morse code."
"Description of the space ship is... it's a perfectly symmetrical it looks like a smooth vaguely dolphin like shape carved from crystal, there is no obvious propulsion mechanism of any kind nor are there any observable recognisable weapons platforms. The vessel is sending out signals in Morse code, the light is strong and indeed the beam lights up part of our hull each time it flashes."
Moments later on a different channel a series of dots and lines in morse code began to arrive, being immediately and quickly transferred onto paper to be translated as well as possible. Fortunately it was not too difficult to translate it into English once it was written down, since with a couple of good Latinists, one native Spanish speaker, and much experience with French it was not too hard to figure out a new Romance language.
The problem did not come before the message had been well and duly translated, Harris who had been acting as the impromptu secretary held it up and read out loud "We seek those able to serve in the forces of light. They, a thousand meeting our requirements, should be accustomed to service. Many are the ways leading to bushels of gold but only one leads to star like diamonds."
There was silence, then finally Ponsonby spoke up "Gentlemen I think I must concede defeat, for I cannot for the life of me comprehend what this message meant."
"Perhaps we should seek aide from those better acquainted with such matters," Mr Jones mused as he thoughtfully rubbed his chin.
At this Day leaned towards Lebrija and they exchanged a few whispered words, after which Lebrija nodded in agreement.
"We have none among ourselves but," Lebrija begun, letting there be a pause to get everyones attention before he continued "I know of a Frank that might be of help, if we are agreed that this matter is beyond us, urgent, and cannot be kept secret."
"A foreigner? Here! I..." Mr Jones begun, but Ponsonby held up his hand cutting the spy short.
"Sir Anthony, the Franks are so distant from us, and so important to us, that we are relying on their good will as it is, so I am inclined to act upon your suggestion," Ponsonby said, then turning to Mr Jones he added "After all people can always be persuaded to forget afterwards, yes?"
Mr Jones nodded "Yes Sir, that is indeed so."
"Then we are agreed," Lebrija said "Now all I need is the services of those transport mages and I can handle the matter myself."
There is Madness in Their Method Part III
Bruxelle
Nouveau Aquitaine
Erde
9 May 1005 NE
Grande Place
Lieutenant Depardieu was about to leave the restaurant, with a heavy heart of course, but alas his romantic interlude with the lovely Yvette would have to wait for, in the first place, the restauranteur would not let her sneak off before closing time! Second he wished to see more of this city, not that he had any dislike of Yvette, of course not! But a man might spread his love around, and who was he to deny his love to the splendid ladies of Bruxelles.
He was therefore surprised when he was approached by a well dressed man, but unlike most of the population of Erde he was actually relieved when the man introduced himself "Chief Inspector Lebrija of the Gendarmes."
At that precise moment, as is always the case, the little communicator that Depardieu carried with him chirped insistently, it was a very annoying little chirp but quite unique so there was no confusing it with anything else.
"Perhaps, Lieutenant, you should do something about your..." Lebrija desperately searched for a suitable word and came up with, "miniature wireless, it is chirping."
"Of coorze Cheef Inzpector, letz zee," Depardieu said as he pulled the communicator out from its secure holder, the moment his fingers touched it the holder checked his finger prints before nearly instantaneously releasing the communicator. He pulled it up, it was a small thing no bigger and not much thicker than three or four ordinary playing cards placed on top of each other, but the moment he brushed his fingers carefully across it the previously black and smooth surface came to life with colour and light.
Upon the display was a text message from his Captain, properly verified of course saying simply "Lieutenant Depardieu is permitted to give such advice as he deems prudent to the Free Republic of Pendleton regarding the present, 9 May 1005 NE, first contact situation." Depardieu acted as if nothing out of the ordinary was there, though prudent was in itself a code for say nothing that would make the Paradisium Republic look bad or foolish which of course was a credo he lived by anyway.
" I 'ave joozt receeved an eemportant mezzage, Cheef Inzpector, alaz I am zorry boot I am not certaeen eef I can 'elp yoo," Depardieu said, not really connecting this well dressed Gendarme with the diplomatic service.
Lebrija however smiled "Ah, if it is about a certain diplomatic matter then you should know that the Gendarmes handle security around diplomats, and indeed my mission is to ask you to give some advice to our diplomats in regards to a certain matter."
"My advice?" Depardieu asked sounding quite puzzled "I don't zee 'ow I can 'elp yoo weez mooch of anyzenk, boot of coorze eef eet doez not violate my ozer obleegateeonz I'd be deleeghted to 'elp yoo."
Fighting back a sensation of rising headache Lebrija switched to French "I think Lieutenant, that this language is better for the both of us."
"Why yes! This is much better Inspector" Depardieu said delighted, even as he inwardly winced at the inspectors' heavy Spanish accent.
"May we retire to someplace discrete? The Grand Place has rather a few people on it" Lebrija said, already wondering if there was any way he could do this without drawing a small crowd of curious onlookers.
"Of course, where?"
"How about the Hotel d'Ville."
Depardieu turned to look at the building "Ah yes! That lovely building, I wanted to take a look at it and climb the tower, but they said that it was being repaired." He said as he peered up to the top of it "It's a very lovely place."
Picking up his uniform coat Depardieu strolled along with Lebrija towards the Hotel d'Ville, taking deep breaths of the clean fresh air as he did, it was most peculiar to be in the centre of a city and still get fresh air! All that was in the air was a perfume of delicious meals, ladies perfume (or flowers hard to tell), and alas a hint of the barnyard smells but it was at least exotic.
The Hotel d'Ville
Inside the Hotel d'Ville Depardieu eyed the bureaucrats curiously, and also looked at the nice internal architecture, so very different from what he was used to at home, as they walked towards the rear offices.
"Now then Lieutenant the matter at hand is one of first contact, another power has come to our system and communicated," Lebrija explained carefully as they reached his office where, thankfully, a new pot of coffee was being brought in "Want coffee or other refreshments Lieutenant?"
"Why yes, coffee is good Chief Inspector" Depardieu replied, he was about to get it himself but the servant immediately poured him a cup and handed it to him. Depardieu still felt odd about the extensive use of slave servants on Pendleton, but he smiled and accepted the cup discretely sliding the servant a small coin that seemed most appreciated.
"Now then," Lebrija begun "This new power of which I speak is apparently somewhat peculiar, and when we mentioned them to your Captain he at once suggested that you be the man with whom we converse."
"Ah quite so, you have already spoken to my Captain?"
"Indeed we have, and you were warmly recommended."
"He is a most gallant and valiant man our Captain, and I shall endeavour to confirm his opinion of me," Depardieu said though I cannot see why he would bear me such love, we have never been particularly close, unless this is one of those light annoying tasks that he would feel right about handing on to a sub-ordinate.
Lebrija gave some small nods as he listened to this, but as Depardieu finished he said simply "So you will come then?"
"Of course since my Captain gives me leave," Depardieu replied, then he sipped his hot coffee finding it to be quite acceptable though a tad sweet.
"Very good, if you would come please Mr Nicholas," Lebrija called from his desk, almost at once the magi that had helped Day get to Croneleigh appeared.
"Ready to go then gentlemen?" Nicholas asked casually, he didn't really stand out an average slightly swarthy fellow with a standard Gendarme uniform with the exception of the lightning bolt and compasses design on his shoulder tabs.
"Why yes I am ready," Depardieu said as he rose from his chair, casually straightening his coat and shirt as he did "Is the transport waiting outside?"
"You misunderstand Sir," Nicholas said politely "I am the transport."
Looking at his peculiar shoulder tab Lt Depardieu frowned a bit as he tried to recall his briefing on Pendletonian tabs and insignia Mon dieu! A mage! "Magic?" he asked casually keeping his voice nonchalant.
"Why yes," Nicholas said.
"Very good! I am now doubly determined to accompany you," Depardieu announced cheerfully "For not only shall I give some aid to friends in need, but I shall have the privilege of experiencing magical transportation."
"I'm delighted to be of service in this manner," Nicholas said and gave a polite bow "I hope that the Lieutenant will find it most exciting, I am told that the experience is best served by either closing ones eye for the entirety of the transition and being awed that upon opening them one is in another place; or else hold them open and see the whole of reality seem to twist around you like wax 'ere it is shaped again into the form of a new locale, but this then often frighten and confuses the first time around."
"Eyes wide open Magi!" Depardieu said, and then smiled and gave a laugh "Hah, let us go, how is this done?"
"We all join hands, I say a phrase in Latin to conjure and release the magic I have bound, and then we are all three of us transited to Croneleigh," Nicholas explained "Gentlemen if you would," he called as he held out his two hands.
As Depardieu accepted it he felt that Nicholas hands were those of the scholar, manicured and soft, but yet the Magi's eyes had a hard glint to them suggesting indomitable will. There was also a certain hard feature around his eyes, and the hint of dark rings under his eyes hinting of long nights spent in study and meditation.
Croneleigh Spaceport
As they all held hands it happened, Depardieu had expected it to be like watching a funhouse mirror, or perhaps like the morphing scenes in a holovid, but it was far different from that... the sensation he watched was that of reality seeming to twist but very quickly, he felt his stomach lurch and wondered for a moment if he should have closed his eyes instead but then suddenly he was no longer in the slightly cluttered office with dirty drapes covering unused furniture, instead he stood in a large empty room with a simple wood covering soft wood panelling and a single door.
"Welcome to Croneleigh Spaceport Gentlemen," Nicholas said.
Almost at once the door opened and a sturdy uniformed Colour-Sergeant entered "If Sirs would please follow me," he announced as he politely motioned his enormous hand towards the door.
Moments later they found themselves in the rather hot wireless room, Depardieu looked about in awe as he saw the enormous machines and the large, occasionally exposed, wires that connected them. Here the entire wall seemed covered in the kind of brass ornamented copper and vacuum tube arrays that were quite different from anything that Depardieu had seen before.
"Sir may I introduce to you Lieutenant Depardieu of the Paradisium Republics Navy," Lebrija said as he bowed politely to Ponsonby and motioned to the Frankish lieutenant "Lieutenant, this is Permanent Undersecretary William Ponsonby of the Foreign Ministry."
"Lieutenant!" Ponsonby said happily "It is a delight to meet you, and your aide would be greatly appreciated in this matter!"
"I am 'onoored Zeer," said Depardieu as he politely saluted "Boot I 'ave not yet been told wheech new race yoo 'ave contacted!"
"Ah it is they who came to us, a most peculiar ship 'a smooth vaguely dolphin like shape carved from crystal', if I recall our men in orbit correct," Ponsonby announced, then he pointed at Harris "Chief Harris here maintains our communications with them, such as they are we are fortunate that they are using both radio and some sort of high powered light signal sending morse code to a ship of ours."
Depardieu frowned a bit at this news, it reminded him of something he had heard, but he was not quite certain whom "I fear Zeer zat zeez zteel doez not tel me zeer name" he said being as polite as he could.
"Oh yes they call themselves, ah, Rrr ah," Ponsonby looked a tad embarrassed "I cannot pronounce it it lacks vowels, Harris."
"R'mans," Harris at once said "They are the R'mans, and begging Sirs pardon but their Latin is like the devil himself spoke it."
"Quite, quite," Ponsonby said as he kept watching the lieutenant.
It was as if a light dawned upon Depardieu My Lord! No wonder the Captain let this cup pass from him, ah what did I do to deserve this! "Ze R'manz zey are, 'ow do yoo zay eet? Not reeght een ze 'ead."
"Not reeght een ze 'ead?" Ponsonby asked confusedly "Not right in the head?"
"That'd explain a lot," Day said in a low voice, but the quick, but scathing, glance that got him from Lebrija and the Spaceport Master made him shut up.
"How can an entire nation not be right in the head?" Ponsonby asked obviously getting a little perplexed "I say Sir how can it be?"
"Zey are Lez, ah, Radeecal Zapphite Femeeneezt Zoceealeeztz and zey ban all men on zeer world, zey do all trade zroogh a large zpace ztateeon een orbeet yoo zee, and ah... zey are totally and ootterly inzane," Depardieu explained as carefully as he could.
The others in the room blinked, there was indeed utter silence, finally Lebrija spoke up in French "Gentlemen I think we should use this language, can everyone follow?" Seeing that everyone, up to and including Chief Harris, nodded or otherwise gave their assent Lebrija asked "Sir could you please repeat that in your own language."
"Ah thank the Lord yes I can," Depardieu said very glad to speak a civilized language "I said they are Radical Sapphite Feminist Socialists and they ban all men on their world, they do all trade through a large space station in orbit you see, and they are totally and utterly insane."
"Socialists? As in Bolshies?" Ponsonby asked seemingly quite perplex now, a reddish hue was spreading across his face "BY JOVE! TELL..."
"Sir we have a message from the orbital command, and an incoming message from the R'mans," Harris suddenly announced as he pushed his earphones closer against his ear "ah ... ah..." he said several times then he pushed the large switch that connected the speakers to the radio.
"Attention the tip of the tail of the...CRACKLE...en off, I repeat the tip of the tail of the alien vessel has broken off. It appears to be an independent craft and is manoeuvring towards Erde."
"I say!" Ponsonby said "We should..."
"Message from Admiralty and orbit, encoded," Harris announced "Men! Start encoding messages real time!" he yelled at the other technicians in the room who immediately began to pull out encryption devices but then peered at the Lieutenant.
"I say" the Spaceport Master said "I fear I must ask that you either leave the room Lieutenant, or else accept a blindfold."
"I'll take the blindfold then," Depardieu said in French and at once a red silken scarf was pulled out from a pocket and quickly wrapped around his eyes leaving him quite blind to the decryption work going on.
"We've decoded message from Admiralty Sir, reads simply 'Are we at war yes or no?'" Harris announced as he received a note from the desk.
Ponsonby turned pale "I... I haven't the authority to go to war!" he cried "Call the Foreign Minister and the Prime Minister! For heavens sake."
"Yes Sir" Harris replied, and then he pulled out the second "Message from the R'mans now," he poured over the message "We can't make out the spoken message the Latin is too strange, but the written..." he quickly made some notes and then read out "They shall be paid for well. The requirements are written down for your perusal. Our requirements, read; understand the path to diamonds."
Day peered over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow "You have to be seriously inbred to lose that many vowels," then in a lower voice ignoring the looks and snickers that his first remark drew he asked simply "How the hell does a population of women breed?"
"They clone," Depardieu helpfully noted "They use the cloning machines to grow their new people."
"They ought to go back to the old fashioned way," Day said, with a conspiratorial wink he added "They're in dire need of a good hard dicking!"
The technicians were desperately trying not to laugh out loud, but Lebrija quietly remarked "Mr Day..." he gave Day a warning look telling him not to go too far.
Ponsonby however was more absorbed with the nature of the message "Path to diamonds?" He thought for a moment "Could they want to trade with us? I mean sending a shuttle of negotiators?" There was utter silence in response, leaving him with the unenviable task of making the decision all on his own.
"Sirs, another message from Captain Helmuth Brechter of the PRS Anchover, and I quote 'Shall I blast foreign chandelier, yes no?'" Harris announced.
"We are not at war," Ponsonby announced finally "They are sending a shuttle for negotiation purposes, send that message by coded wireless right away!" He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his face "and for heavens sake call up the Foreign Minister and Prime Minister, and, get General Santini to send some Arch..." peering at Depardieu for a moment he hesitated but then completed the line "Some Arch-Mages down here and some damn riflemen and cannon too!"
There were cries of "Aye Sir," as desperate phone calls were being made, and the message came that the alien ship was indeed descending upon Croneleigh.
Outside the main building
Thirty Minutes Later
The crystalline shard seemed to float gently in the air a few feet above the tarmac surface of the spaceport, apparently oblivious to the attention it was receiving. Even as the people observed it an opening appeared in the side of the shard, or rather it was as if the crystal flowed like water and then froze again as a walkway suddenly extended from the shard and onto the ground opening up into the interior of the shuttle.
Surrounding it was a full battalion of Riflemen, dressed in their everyday red uniforms with bright brass buttons and glittering bayonets on their long SMLE rifles they had been rushed straight from the parade grounds and to Croneleigh. Behind and beside the soldiers were however the large menacing shapes of the Maxim guns, resting securely upon their sledge mounts, thick cloth belts ready to feed 500 rounds a minute into the massive machine. To add to this there were a dozen 6" howitzers resting upon their big metal wheels, and a team of redlegs surrounding each one of them aiming their gun carefully at the arrived alien vessel.
Of course all of this firepower was dwarfed by something far less conspicuous, sitting by a small improvised table next to a steamwagon there was a man and a woman, both appearing middle aged and dressed like gentlefolk. Both of them seemed to exude authority though, their features were handsome and pure the man dark haired and fair, and the woman somewhat darker in complexion but her hair a pleasing brown. Their other features however were overshadowed by their eyes, who seemed piercing and commanding, like they were filled with a strange fire. Their only badge of office were the ornate staffs each of them carried, engraved with peculiar figures and Hermetic symbols, for these were the archmages.
Standing together in a small group near the arch mages were Undersecretary Ponsonby, Inspectors Lebria and Day, as well as Lieutenant Depardieu chatting animatedly together. Lebrija and Day were both smoking, Lebrija a largish high quality cigar that he was half way through, while day smoked a cigarette.
"I cannot say it is safe Sir Anthony," Ponsonby told them.
"Sir, with respect our duty is never safe," Lebrija replied "it is the nature of things that we must take risks."
"And you Inspector?" Ponsonby said as the turned to Day.
Day looked at the floating shuttle "I can't say I trust this lot Sir, but this is Gendarme business as far as I see it, and we're the agents on the spot."
"I should go too," Depardieu announced suddenly, taking a deep breath first he explained before he could be interrupted "If they try something they hurt not only you, but a member of the Frankish Navy, and surely this is a deterrent!" The truth had more to do with him having been there almost from the start and now wanting to see the end to it.
"Perhaps," Ponsonby said "But this would be entirely upon your own account, we'd take no responsibility for the outcome."
"Of course Monsieur, I understand fully" Depardieu said still in his native Frankish "Life is not worth living to a Frank if a little danger should discourage him, it is not in the nature of our nation."
"Very well then, you do as you will provided that Chief Inspector Lebrija and Inspector Day do not object, for tis' their mission I think" Ponsonby said.
"Gentlemen!" Depardieu said as he turned to the two Gendarmes "What say you?"
"I have no problems with this Sir," Lebrija said, quietly inhaling the soothing smoke from his cigar.
Day smiled mischievously "and I say 'solamen miseris, socios habuisse doloris'" he said.
"Mr Day!" Lebrija said half joking "Now that's no way to greet our new companion!"
"Comfort in misery is to have companions in woe?" Depardieu translated mentally, glad for his classical education "I fear this is some great quote whose significance I miss."
"Pah! Do not worry yourself, but let us hope it goes better for us than for poor Faustus!" Lebrija said, then letting out a perfect smoke ring he added "Shall we gentlemen?" and motioned towards the R'man shuttle.
As they departed Ponsonby turned towards the two arch mages "I say Sir, Ma'am," at once they turned their attention to him, an experience not entirely pleasant.
"Sir," the man said, the woman kept her own council simply looking at him.
"Ah are you certain you can handle this? If that thing should be hostile?" Ponsonby asked, once more he felt a nervous bead of sweat form on his brow.
A simple relaxed, almost mocking smile formed on the lips of the archmage "Sir, 'pon your word I will gladly not only wreck that shuttle there, and shield this port from whatever explosion that may cause, but I shall also endeavour to turn the crystal chandelier, as they call the Roman ship, into so much scattered glass."
"Here he has it right Sir," the woman said "Or if it suits you better I can turn the crew to newts." They both laughed a bit at this but not in a way that made Ponsonby feel any better.
The Shuttle
The trio stood on the outside of the shuttle peering in, gently testing the walkway up to the door with their feet, finding that it was indeed very firm and not in the least way slippery. Yet they hesitated finally though Depardieu leapt onto the walkway "Ah why worry, what happens happens!" At this joyous exclamation the other two walked up too, not desiring to seem lacking in courage or daring.
Together they walked up into the shuttle, peering around the peculiar structure and exploring the length of it seeking some sign of inhabitants or a pilot, but they found neither.
The interior of the shuttle was most peculiar, the light was white with a slight green tint reminding them of sunlight reflected through water. The interior was quite barren though, marked by rounded and organic like shapes like the interior of some beast, and the slightly warm touch of the walls did not do any to dispel this sensation. Yet the walls and floors were quite firm to the touch, and the air was clean and transparent.
Laying upon the floor were some five separate boxes, all squares roughly a foot in each direction, and apparently made from some slightly opaque yet crystalline material. From the outside the contents looked vaguely like rolls of tape or else bundles of papers. On the side of each box there was a single roughly square area in a slightly different colour from the rest, but other than that there was no visible opening or materials.
Lebrija stood still for a while, still smoking his cigar, "I think these boxes then are for us," he said as he moved over and picked one up, it was not too heavy and he turned it over in his hand looking for an opening "Hmmmm," he pulled out his cigar for a moment holding it in his right hand while the box was under his left arm "Gentlemen let us take these boxes and leave."
Moments later they departed carrying the strange crystalline boxes, and the very moment that they set foot back on the ground the walkway closed silently behind them as the strange material became re-absorbed into the craft and likewise the doorway seemed to close in a manner similar to how ice slowly closes an opening but many hundred fold faster.
Nouveau Aquitaine
Erde
9 May 1005 NE
Grande Place
Lieutenant Depardieu was about to leave the restaurant, with a heavy heart of course, but alas his romantic interlude with the lovely Yvette would have to wait for, in the first place, the restauranteur would not let her sneak off before closing time! Second he wished to see more of this city, not that he had any dislike of Yvette, of course not! But a man might spread his love around, and who was he to deny his love to the splendid ladies of Bruxelles.
He was therefore surprised when he was approached by a well dressed man, but unlike most of the population of Erde he was actually relieved when the man introduced himself "Chief Inspector Lebrija of the Gendarmes."
At that precise moment, as is always the case, the little communicator that Depardieu carried with him chirped insistently, it was a very annoying little chirp but quite unique so there was no confusing it with anything else.
"Perhaps, Lieutenant, you should do something about your..." Lebrija desperately searched for a suitable word and came up with, "miniature wireless, it is chirping."
"Of coorze Cheef Inzpector, letz zee," Depardieu said as he pulled the communicator out from its secure holder, the moment his fingers touched it the holder checked his finger prints before nearly instantaneously releasing the communicator. He pulled it up, it was a small thing no bigger and not much thicker than three or four ordinary playing cards placed on top of each other, but the moment he brushed his fingers carefully across it the previously black and smooth surface came to life with colour and light.
Upon the display was a text message from his Captain, properly verified of course saying simply "Lieutenant Depardieu is permitted to give such advice as he deems prudent to the Free Republic of Pendleton regarding the present, 9 May 1005 NE, first contact situation." Depardieu acted as if nothing out of the ordinary was there, though prudent was in itself a code for say nothing that would make the Paradisium Republic look bad or foolish which of course was a credo he lived by anyway.
" I 'ave joozt receeved an eemportant mezzage, Cheef Inzpector, alaz I am zorry boot I am not certaeen eef I can 'elp yoo," Depardieu said, not really connecting this well dressed Gendarme with the diplomatic service.
Lebrija however smiled "Ah, if it is about a certain diplomatic matter then you should know that the Gendarmes handle security around diplomats, and indeed my mission is to ask you to give some advice to our diplomats in regards to a certain matter."
"My advice?" Depardieu asked sounding quite puzzled "I don't zee 'ow I can 'elp yoo weez mooch of anyzenk, boot of coorze eef eet doez not violate my ozer obleegateeonz I'd be deleeghted to 'elp yoo."
Fighting back a sensation of rising headache Lebrija switched to French "I think Lieutenant, that this language is better for the both of us."
"Why yes! This is much better Inspector" Depardieu said delighted, even as he inwardly winced at the inspectors' heavy Spanish accent.
"May we retire to someplace discrete? The Grand Place has rather a few people on it" Lebrija said, already wondering if there was any way he could do this without drawing a small crowd of curious onlookers.
"Of course, where?"
"How about the Hotel d'Ville."
Depardieu turned to look at the building "Ah yes! That lovely building, I wanted to take a look at it and climb the tower, but they said that it was being repaired." He said as he peered up to the top of it "It's a very lovely place."
Picking up his uniform coat Depardieu strolled along with Lebrija towards the Hotel d'Ville, taking deep breaths of the clean fresh air as he did, it was most peculiar to be in the centre of a city and still get fresh air! All that was in the air was a perfume of delicious meals, ladies perfume (or flowers hard to tell), and alas a hint of the barnyard smells but it was at least exotic.
The Hotel d'Ville
Inside the Hotel d'Ville Depardieu eyed the bureaucrats curiously, and also looked at the nice internal architecture, so very different from what he was used to at home, as they walked towards the rear offices.
"Now then Lieutenant the matter at hand is one of first contact, another power has come to our system and communicated," Lebrija explained carefully as they reached his office where, thankfully, a new pot of coffee was being brought in "Want coffee or other refreshments Lieutenant?"
"Why yes, coffee is good Chief Inspector" Depardieu replied, he was about to get it himself but the servant immediately poured him a cup and handed it to him. Depardieu still felt odd about the extensive use of slave servants on Pendleton, but he smiled and accepted the cup discretely sliding the servant a small coin that seemed most appreciated.
"Now then," Lebrija begun "This new power of which I speak is apparently somewhat peculiar, and when we mentioned them to your Captain he at once suggested that you be the man with whom we converse."
"Ah quite so, you have already spoken to my Captain?"
"Indeed we have, and you were warmly recommended."
"He is a most gallant and valiant man our Captain, and I shall endeavour to confirm his opinion of me," Depardieu said though I cannot see why he would bear me such love, we have never been particularly close, unless this is one of those light annoying tasks that he would feel right about handing on to a sub-ordinate.
Lebrija gave some small nods as he listened to this, but as Depardieu finished he said simply "So you will come then?"
"Of course since my Captain gives me leave," Depardieu replied, then he sipped his hot coffee finding it to be quite acceptable though a tad sweet.
"Very good, if you would come please Mr Nicholas," Lebrija called from his desk, almost at once the magi that had helped Day get to Croneleigh appeared.
"Ready to go then gentlemen?" Nicholas asked casually, he didn't really stand out an average slightly swarthy fellow with a standard Gendarme uniform with the exception of the lightning bolt and compasses design on his shoulder tabs.
"Why yes I am ready," Depardieu said as he rose from his chair, casually straightening his coat and shirt as he did "Is the transport waiting outside?"
"You misunderstand Sir," Nicholas said politely "I am the transport."
Looking at his peculiar shoulder tab Lt Depardieu frowned a bit as he tried to recall his briefing on Pendletonian tabs and insignia Mon dieu! A mage! "Magic?" he asked casually keeping his voice nonchalant.
"Why yes," Nicholas said.
"Very good! I am now doubly determined to accompany you," Depardieu announced cheerfully "For not only shall I give some aid to friends in need, but I shall have the privilege of experiencing magical transportation."
"I'm delighted to be of service in this manner," Nicholas said and gave a polite bow "I hope that the Lieutenant will find it most exciting, I am told that the experience is best served by either closing ones eye for the entirety of the transition and being awed that upon opening them one is in another place; or else hold them open and see the whole of reality seem to twist around you like wax 'ere it is shaped again into the form of a new locale, but this then often frighten and confuses the first time around."
"Eyes wide open Magi!" Depardieu said, and then smiled and gave a laugh "Hah, let us go, how is this done?"
"We all join hands, I say a phrase in Latin to conjure and release the magic I have bound, and then we are all three of us transited to Croneleigh," Nicholas explained "Gentlemen if you would," he called as he held out his two hands.
As Depardieu accepted it he felt that Nicholas hands were those of the scholar, manicured and soft, but yet the Magi's eyes had a hard glint to them suggesting indomitable will. There was also a certain hard feature around his eyes, and the hint of dark rings under his eyes hinting of long nights spent in study and meditation.
Croneleigh Spaceport
As they all held hands it happened, Depardieu had expected it to be like watching a funhouse mirror, or perhaps like the morphing scenes in a holovid, but it was far different from that... the sensation he watched was that of reality seeming to twist but very quickly, he felt his stomach lurch and wondered for a moment if he should have closed his eyes instead but then suddenly he was no longer in the slightly cluttered office with dirty drapes covering unused furniture, instead he stood in a large empty room with a simple wood covering soft wood panelling and a single door.
"Welcome to Croneleigh Spaceport Gentlemen," Nicholas said.
Almost at once the door opened and a sturdy uniformed Colour-Sergeant entered "If Sirs would please follow me," he announced as he politely motioned his enormous hand towards the door.
Moments later they found themselves in the rather hot wireless room, Depardieu looked about in awe as he saw the enormous machines and the large, occasionally exposed, wires that connected them. Here the entire wall seemed covered in the kind of brass ornamented copper and vacuum tube arrays that were quite different from anything that Depardieu had seen before.
"Sir may I introduce to you Lieutenant Depardieu of the Paradisium Republics Navy," Lebrija said as he bowed politely to Ponsonby and motioned to the Frankish lieutenant "Lieutenant, this is Permanent Undersecretary William Ponsonby of the Foreign Ministry."
"Lieutenant!" Ponsonby said happily "It is a delight to meet you, and your aide would be greatly appreciated in this matter!"
"I am 'onoored Zeer," said Depardieu as he politely saluted "Boot I 'ave not yet been told wheech new race yoo 'ave contacted!"
"Ah it is they who came to us, a most peculiar ship 'a smooth vaguely dolphin like shape carved from crystal', if I recall our men in orbit correct," Ponsonby announced, then he pointed at Harris "Chief Harris here maintains our communications with them, such as they are we are fortunate that they are using both radio and some sort of high powered light signal sending morse code to a ship of ours."
Depardieu frowned a bit at this news, it reminded him of something he had heard, but he was not quite certain whom "I fear Zeer zat zeez zteel doez not tel me zeer name" he said being as polite as he could.
"Oh yes they call themselves, ah, Rrr ah," Ponsonby looked a tad embarrassed "I cannot pronounce it it lacks vowels, Harris."
"R'mans," Harris at once said "They are the R'mans, and begging Sirs pardon but their Latin is like the devil himself spoke it."
"Quite, quite," Ponsonby said as he kept watching the lieutenant.
It was as if a light dawned upon Depardieu My Lord! No wonder the Captain let this cup pass from him, ah what did I do to deserve this! "Ze R'manz zey are, 'ow do yoo zay eet? Not reeght een ze 'ead."
"Not reeght een ze 'ead?" Ponsonby asked confusedly "Not right in the head?"
"That'd explain a lot," Day said in a low voice, but the quick, but scathing, glance that got him from Lebrija and the Spaceport Master made him shut up.
"How can an entire nation not be right in the head?" Ponsonby asked obviously getting a little perplexed "I say Sir how can it be?"
"Zey are Lez, ah, Radeecal Zapphite Femeeneezt Zoceealeeztz and zey ban all men on zeer world, zey do all trade zroogh a large zpace ztateeon een orbeet yoo zee, and ah... zey are totally and ootterly inzane," Depardieu explained as carefully as he could.
The others in the room blinked, there was indeed utter silence, finally Lebrija spoke up in French "Gentlemen I think we should use this language, can everyone follow?" Seeing that everyone, up to and including Chief Harris, nodded or otherwise gave their assent Lebrija asked "Sir could you please repeat that in your own language."
"Ah thank the Lord yes I can," Depardieu said very glad to speak a civilized language "I said they are Radical Sapphite Feminist Socialists and they ban all men on their world, they do all trade through a large space station in orbit you see, and they are totally and utterly insane."
"Socialists? As in Bolshies?" Ponsonby asked seemingly quite perplex now, a reddish hue was spreading across his face "BY JOVE! TELL..."
"Sir we have a message from the orbital command, and an incoming message from the R'mans," Harris suddenly announced as he pushed his earphones closer against his ear "ah ... ah..." he said several times then he pushed the large switch that connected the speakers to the radio.
"Attention the tip of the tail of the...CRACKLE...en off, I repeat the tip of the tail of the alien vessel has broken off. It appears to be an independent craft and is manoeuvring towards Erde."
"I say!" Ponsonby said "We should..."
"Message from Admiralty and orbit, encoded," Harris announced "Men! Start encoding messages real time!" he yelled at the other technicians in the room who immediately began to pull out encryption devices but then peered at the Lieutenant.
"I say" the Spaceport Master said "I fear I must ask that you either leave the room Lieutenant, or else accept a blindfold."
"I'll take the blindfold then," Depardieu said in French and at once a red silken scarf was pulled out from a pocket and quickly wrapped around his eyes leaving him quite blind to the decryption work going on.
"We've decoded message from Admiralty Sir, reads simply 'Are we at war yes or no?'" Harris announced as he received a note from the desk.
Ponsonby turned pale "I... I haven't the authority to go to war!" he cried "Call the Foreign Minister and the Prime Minister! For heavens sake."
"Yes Sir" Harris replied, and then he pulled out the second "Message from the R'mans now," he poured over the message "We can't make out the spoken message the Latin is too strange, but the written..." he quickly made some notes and then read out "They shall be paid for well. The requirements are written down for your perusal. Our requirements, read; understand the path to diamonds."
Day peered over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow "You have to be seriously inbred to lose that many vowels," then in a lower voice ignoring the looks and snickers that his first remark drew he asked simply "How the hell does a population of women breed?"
"They clone," Depardieu helpfully noted "They use the cloning machines to grow their new people."
"They ought to go back to the old fashioned way," Day said, with a conspiratorial wink he added "They're in dire need of a good hard dicking!"
The technicians were desperately trying not to laugh out loud, but Lebrija quietly remarked "Mr Day..." he gave Day a warning look telling him not to go too far.
Ponsonby however was more absorbed with the nature of the message "Path to diamonds?" He thought for a moment "Could they want to trade with us? I mean sending a shuttle of negotiators?" There was utter silence in response, leaving him with the unenviable task of making the decision all on his own.
"Sirs, another message from Captain Helmuth Brechter of the PRS Anchover, and I quote 'Shall I blast foreign chandelier, yes no?'" Harris announced.
"We are not at war," Ponsonby announced finally "They are sending a shuttle for negotiation purposes, send that message by coded wireless right away!" He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his face "and for heavens sake call up the Foreign Minister and Prime Minister, and, get General Santini to send some Arch..." peering at Depardieu for a moment he hesitated but then completed the line "Some Arch-Mages down here and some damn riflemen and cannon too!"
There were cries of "Aye Sir," as desperate phone calls were being made, and the message came that the alien ship was indeed descending upon Croneleigh.
Outside the main building
Thirty Minutes Later
The crystalline shard seemed to float gently in the air a few feet above the tarmac surface of the spaceport, apparently oblivious to the attention it was receiving. Even as the people observed it an opening appeared in the side of the shard, or rather it was as if the crystal flowed like water and then froze again as a walkway suddenly extended from the shard and onto the ground opening up into the interior of the shuttle.
Surrounding it was a full battalion of Riflemen, dressed in their everyday red uniforms with bright brass buttons and glittering bayonets on their long SMLE rifles they had been rushed straight from the parade grounds and to Croneleigh. Behind and beside the soldiers were however the large menacing shapes of the Maxim guns, resting securely upon their sledge mounts, thick cloth belts ready to feed 500 rounds a minute into the massive machine. To add to this there were a dozen 6" howitzers resting upon their big metal wheels, and a team of redlegs surrounding each one of them aiming their gun carefully at the arrived alien vessel.
Of course all of this firepower was dwarfed by something far less conspicuous, sitting by a small improvised table next to a steamwagon there was a man and a woman, both appearing middle aged and dressed like gentlefolk. Both of them seemed to exude authority though, their features were handsome and pure the man dark haired and fair, and the woman somewhat darker in complexion but her hair a pleasing brown. Their other features however were overshadowed by their eyes, who seemed piercing and commanding, like they were filled with a strange fire. Their only badge of office were the ornate staffs each of them carried, engraved with peculiar figures and Hermetic symbols, for these were the archmages.
Standing together in a small group near the arch mages were Undersecretary Ponsonby, Inspectors Lebria and Day, as well as Lieutenant Depardieu chatting animatedly together. Lebrija and Day were both smoking, Lebrija a largish high quality cigar that he was half way through, while day smoked a cigarette.
"I cannot say it is safe Sir Anthony," Ponsonby told them.
"Sir, with respect our duty is never safe," Lebrija replied "it is the nature of things that we must take risks."
"And you Inspector?" Ponsonby said as the turned to Day.
Day looked at the floating shuttle "I can't say I trust this lot Sir, but this is Gendarme business as far as I see it, and we're the agents on the spot."
"I should go too," Depardieu announced suddenly, taking a deep breath first he explained before he could be interrupted "If they try something they hurt not only you, but a member of the Frankish Navy, and surely this is a deterrent!" The truth had more to do with him having been there almost from the start and now wanting to see the end to it.
"Perhaps," Ponsonby said "But this would be entirely upon your own account, we'd take no responsibility for the outcome."
"Of course Monsieur, I understand fully" Depardieu said still in his native Frankish "Life is not worth living to a Frank if a little danger should discourage him, it is not in the nature of our nation."
"Very well then, you do as you will provided that Chief Inspector Lebrija and Inspector Day do not object, for tis' their mission I think" Ponsonby said.
"Gentlemen!" Depardieu said as he turned to the two Gendarmes "What say you?"
"I have no problems with this Sir," Lebrija said, quietly inhaling the soothing smoke from his cigar.
Day smiled mischievously "and I say 'solamen miseris, socios habuisse doloris'" he said.
"Mr Day!" Lebrija said half joking "Now that's no way to greet our new companion!"
"Comfort in misery is to have companions in woe?" Depardieu translated mentally, glad for his classical education "I fear this is some great quote whose significance I miss."
"Pah! Do not worry yourself, but let us hope it goes better for us than for poor Faustus!" Lebrija said, then letting out a perfect smoke ring he added "Shall we gentlemen?" and motioned towards the R'man shuttle.
As they departed Ponsonby turned towards the two arch mages "I say Sir, Ma'am," at once they turned their attention to him, an experience not entirely pleasant.
"Sir," the man said, the woman kept her own council simply looking at him.
"Ah are you certain you can handle this? If that thing should be hostile?" Ponsonby asked, once more he felt a nervous bead of sweat form on his brow.
A simple relaxed, almost mocking smile formed on the lips of the archmage "Sir, 'pon your word I will gladly not only wreck that shuttle there, and shield this port from whatever explosion that may cause, but I shall also endeavour to turn the crystal chandelier, as they call the Roman ship, into so much scattered glass."
"Here he has it right Sir," the woman said "Or if it suits you better I can turn the crew to newts." They both laughed a bit at this but not in a way that made Ponsonby feel any better.
The Shuttle
The trio stood on the outside of the shuttle peering in, gently testing the walkway up to the door with their feet, finding that it was indeed very firm and not in the least way slippery. Yet they hesitated finally though Depardieu leapt onto the walkway "Ah why worry, what happens happens!" At this joyous exclamation the other two walked up too, not desiring to seem lacking in courage or daring.
Together they walked up into the shuttle, peering around the peculiar structure and exploring the length of it seeking some sign of inhabitants or a pilot, but they found neither.
The interior of the shuttle was most peculiar, the light was white with a slight green tint reminding them of sunlight reflected through water. The interior was quite barren though, marked by rounded and organic like shapes like the interior of some beast, and the slightly warm touch of the walls did not do any to dispel this sensation. Yet the walls and floors were quite firm to the touch, and the air was clean and transparent.
Laying upon the floor were some five separate boxes, all squares roughly a foot in each direction, and apparently made from some slightly opaque yet crystalline material. From the outside the contents looked vaguely like rolls of tape or else bundles of papers. On the side of each box there was a single roughly square area in a slightly different colour from the rest, but other than that there was no visible opening or materials.
Lebrija stood still for a while, still smoking his cigar, "I think these boxes then are for us," he said as he moved over and picked one up, it was not too heavy and he turned it over in his hand looking for an opening "Hmmmm," he pulled out his cigar for a moment holding it in his right hand while the box was under his left arm "Gentlemen let us take these boxes and leave."
Moments later they departed carrying the strange crystalline boxes, and the very moment that they set foot back on the ground the walkway closed silently behind them as the strange material became re-absorbed into the craft and likewise the doorway seemed to close in a manner similar to how ice slowly closes an opening but many hundred fold faster.
There is Madness in Their Method Part IV
Croneleigh Spaceport
Pendleton
Erde
Monday 9 May 1005 NE
Two hours after the shuttle
They were in a comfortable drawing room within the spaceport, it was a pleasant enough place and the presence of several telephones and a couple of very large tables that had been brought in made it even more so. Scattered along the walls of the room were also the usual soft chairs, bookcases, and other decorative items that made up the décor of a Pendleton drawing room. In truth the only two things that made this room stand out was the absolute lack of windows, as well as the fact that the two large tables though sturdy seemed rather out of place in the room. Placed upon them were the now opened five boxes that had been recovered from the shuttle.
It had taken them roughly half an hour to figure out how to open the crystal boxes it was not just pushing the differently coloured section on the crystal, ah no! It involved holding the box upright, then tapping the differently coloured section in the same rhythm has had first been used to sing to them, but then something peculiar happened the boxes seemed to open like a flower the sides and top folding outwards in a floral pattern till, left in the centre, there were the contents of the box.
The contents were most befuddling, there were long ribbons of some peculiar brownish-dark material quite slick and slightly stiff but no more so than that it could be coiled up into thick rolls. Opening one of these rolls Lebrija examined it carefully, he held the ribbon up to the light and then burst out "AHA! Photographic negatives, but ..." he pulled the ribbon upwards "are they identical? No... they are very similar but they are not identical."
"You know Sir," Day mused "I was going down the vaudeville area not too long ago, and I saw something like that by the Luminisere brothers?"
"Lumiere Brothers Mr Day, Lumiere," Lebrija commented absentmindedly "Why yes, some kind of a projection device, ah I read about it."
"I saw one of their displays Sir Anthony," Ponsonby commented "The pictures moved, like a magic lantern show only ... more movement, it was an entertainment at a dinner I attended very droll."
"Moving pictures? You mean as in movies?" Depardieu interjected "why this is scarcely new technology it is..." then he once more realised who he was talking to.
"I see Lieutenant, ah, well Sir Anthony, could we not borrow one of these Lumiere projectors and see if it could be rigged to work?" Ponsonby asked.
"Of course Sir," Lebrija said "Mr Day could we requisition one?"
"Well Sir I don't think we'll have to, I think that we confiscated one a while back because it was being used to show all kinds of filthy things," Day replied "The boys in evidence should still have it though."
"Excellent, could you please persuade them to bring it over Mr Day?" Lebrija asked politely.
"Certain Sir, but they'll want it back pretty soon," Day said.
Ponsonby beamed "Ah conscientious service men!" he said trying to make a good impression with Depardieu.
Both Lebrija and Day just gave him a look, trying to seem as respectful as they could, Day however couldn't help but add "Oh yes, and you wouldn't believe how thoroughly they investigate the evidence Sir."
Ponsonby did not quite catch the full meaning of this, though most likely both Depardieu used to all gentlemen, or all male, assemblies understood quite implicitly. Mr Jones too got the gist, but all the evidence he gave of it was a slightly raised eyebrow.
"By your leave Sir I'll make the call," Day said as he walked
Lebrija now picked up some large single images, these he recognised at once "Ah plates for a magic lantern show," he said as he held them up to the light, they depicted the naked shape of a young woman with certain measurements drawn in. As he studied it yet further he noticed something else, there was a tiny measurement of a diamond next to each image, some larger than the other. Of course they wish to purchase slaves he thought, this then is their catalogue of specifications.
"Aaaah, what pretty young ladies, but surely this is not purely a collection of gentlemens' entertainment," Depardieu commented apparently oblivious to their true meaning.
They now had a problem Lebrija knew, how to persuade the proud Frank to depart without causing him offence for somehow Lebrija doubted that the Franks would appreciate helping with such deals. The problem however was compounded by the fact that neither Mr Jones, Day nor Ponsonby had yet made the connection and so might not be as entirely helpful as they ought.
"Mr Day perhaps we should also arrange for a magical lantern, that we might view these images too," Lebrija commented to Day, then he added "Why I dare say we can crack this riddle now, eh Lieutenant?"
"Why certainly you seem to have a most admirably grasp of these things Sir," Depardieu replied politely while wondering if they were trying to fob him off Now that it just got interesting, but why perchance would the R'mans send pictures of naked women? Do the think the Pendletonians such prudes that these pictures would permanently sear their minds?
While he pondered this Lebrija was pondering how to communicate his discovery to the others. Suddenly a smile crossed Lebrija's lips "Sir, Mr Day," he said addressing both Ponsonby and Day "If these were paintings I say they would be very much like those wonderful pieces sold at the Blue Bridge just last week, what say you Gentlemen?"
Ponsonby's head reared slightly, a glimmer of realisation flickered in his eyes "Indeed Sir Anthony, indeed, why 'tis practically a work of art this," he said looking at the pictures though feeling a tad embarrassed.
Well they'll be disappointed, the Pendletonians are just a collection of slightly uptight people that like dirty pictures but don't like to admit it Depardieu thought to himself "Yes they're quite nicely done I suppose," he replied thinking of his own work of art by the name of Yvette that he had left behind in Bruxelles Perhaps I could get back there in time for supper?
"Well Lieutenant, I'd like to give you our thanks for your patience and your support," Ponsonby said "I must confess that the sheer incomprehensiveness of the R'mans is such that without good guidance we'd be lost, now may I offer you a light supper before your return to Bruxelles? I hear our chef has exceeded himself tonight!"
"I should be honoured monsieur," Depardieu said and gave a polite bow "I find in your cuisine much that greatly resembles that of Franco Domine."
"A compliment I take it Lieutenant?" Ponsonby said smilingly even as he ambled towards the door motioning to indicate that he wished the lieutenant to follow.
Depardieu smiled and eagerly accompanied him "Why of course Monsieur Undersecretary, the ultimate compliment," and then the door slid open and they departed.
The moment the door slammed shut and they were sure Depardieu couldn't listen Day leaned forward "You're telling me the crazy dykes, the ones that do the same to Latin as the East Enders do to English, want to buy SLAVES?"
"Yes Mr Day, I don't know for sure yet, but I strongly suspect it is so," Lebrija replied as he held up more and more signs "Measurements, details, this is a shopping list unless I am much mistaken, with prices indicated."
"Damn!" Day said simply as he shook his head "I guess Marxist-Calhounism is spreading wide and far."
"Not exactly an export you'd want out there, but nevertheless," Lebrija said as he shook his head a bit.
It was then that a voice from behind made them start and turn around, indeed Mr Jones had been so quiet that they had almost forgotten he was there "Now that the foreigner is gone may I perhaps suggest that foreign nationals should not be allowed in at this stage, however helpful they may be?"
"And what alternative does the Bureau suggest when the technical skills for handling this are so out of our league Mr Jones?" Lebrija asked coolly "We're in the position of cavemen trying to understand a steam engine built by a madman!"
Mr Jones went silent at that then he commented "You have a point Chief Inspector, I shan't deny it, but I hope you will admit that I have a point as well, and a very good one that we cannot rely upon the friendship of foreigners in such dealings," he looked firmly at Lebrija and Day as if daring them to challenge his statement. Neither of them did.
Two hours later
In record time they had converted the drawing room into one suitable for the depiction of moving pictures, white linen sheets had been borrowed from the harbour masters cabinet to make a screen. Side by side now, in the far end of the room, placed on top of one of the tables there was now a film projection machine and a magic lantern side by side. Also side by side were a row of chairs wherein Ponsonby, Mr Jones, Day and Lebrija could sit and view the pictures whilst Chief Harris would operate the machines.
The movie depicted was of the sort that, though not deliberately raunchy, could nevertheless have fetched good money in the vaudeville halls for it consisted of healthy young women being displayed in various poses and diverse parts of their bodies emphasised; as well as several women side by side, with some clearly considered more favourable than others.
Likewise the still slides shown were much the same, except here the measurements were indicated with coloured arrows and numbers, showing a preference for women that were athletic, with some intelligence, equipped with long tongues, and of general good health.
"I must say this would be intolerable without some good sweet Pampas wine," Day said as they watched the fourth reel "I mean Gentlemen much as I might love seeing young women prance about in the altogether I've seen it before."
"Sir, surely you see that it's our hard duty to watch moving pictures of naked women for the betterment of the republic," Mr Jones said quite deadpan "So lets steel our resolve! Cheers!" he called as he lifted his glass of wine and drank from it.
In truth the two empty bottles on the floor, as well as the glasses in their hands and the discrete waiter standing by their side suggested strongly that they had in the custom of Pendletonians dipped a little into the Pampan wine to ease the transition into the night.
"So then gentlemen, we've all figured out what they want?" Ponsonby asked now, leaning back in his chair and watching yet another display as he wondered if he'd make it home tonight at all.
Day lifted an eyebrow "I don't think there's much doubt Sir, they want slaves."
"Aye Mr Day? Are you agreed?" Ponsonby looked at the others.
"Yes," Mr Jones said "For whatever purpose Sir they do want slaves."
"I concur," Lebrija said "Definitely slaves, a thousand unless I miss my guess."
"How much are they paying Chief Inspector?" Ponsonby asked curiously "I haven't really converted the numbers."
Lebrija rubbed his face with his palms "I don't know Sir, I'm rather fatigued," that and his head felt woozy.
Pulling out a slip stick from his inner pocket Chief Harris did some quick calculations by himself "MOTHER OF GOD!" he burst out in shock making all four of the assembled gentlemen turn their heads towards him "They're offering 30 million pounds Sirs!" he cried in stunned disbelief.
For a moment you could hear a penny drop the room was that quiet, then Ponsonby said, rather sheepishly, "That sounds ... sounds... Rather a lot"
"At thirty thousand pounds a pop they can have mine," Day said simply enough "Damn!"
"Do we really want to sell a thousand slaves from our homeworld to the socialists?" Mr Jones asked ominously "Who knows what uses they will put them to?"
"Well Sir we know they're sapphites and we know they're socialists so they believe in sharing all their property, so with ..." Day realised that his joking around was getting a little out of hand and instead changed to respectable "I dare say they want them for their own perverse uses."
"Not enough," Lebrija said simply "If someone bought a slave from a household, paying a fortune, what would you suspect?"
Day hesitated, then a thoughtful expression appeared "Planning a burglary perhaps? Or wanting to know more about the household than they ought, either are good options Sir."
"Either are good reason to worry, or even to refuse," Mr Jones said simply "The security of the Republic comes first."
"Lets not be hasty now Gentlemen," Ponsonby announced "This must pass by the Minister, and we will not refuse things out of hand."
Lebrija looked very thoughtful, then he leaned forward a bit "Sir, I am as always your servant, I bow to your judgement in this matter, and I only ask my rightful commission! For tis' an ancient custom that those who aid in opening a new trade route receive a commission is it not?"
Ponsonby was about to protest but one thought came unbidden to his mind my cousin the slave trader, what a splendid chance this is "but an oath of secrecy would have to be asked! Since they are socialists this is after all surely a security matter."
There were hidden smiles from all three men to the right of him, and Lebrija said simply "Why of course Sir, you are absolutely correct, this deal and all the things connected would be a security matter under the purview of the Joint Bureau!"
"Absolutely! A security matter, after all I want my cut from the stupid commie dykes..." Day said, once more cursing the excessive amounts of sweet wine "I mean... right, security of the Republic, duty to ones nation and all, can't you infiltrate some spies this way as well?"
"You're quite right Mr Day," Mr Jones said "we could infiltrate some spies this way, and this is too great an opportunity to let it pass," then with a suitably humble look he added "and if the Republic sees fit to grant me some small commission for this matter I shan't refuse, after all tradition is the life blood of a nation gentlemen!"
14 Jarman Street
Pendleton
Erde
Tuesday 10 May 1005 NE
The Green Room had all the symbols of the Greatness that was Pendleton, the windows were large arches giving good light and a view of the city from which the Republic took its name. The centre of the room was a long oak table and all around it was decorations of an arboreal nature from the green keenly decorated carpet to the cunning silken wallpapers. The room was in use for a session of the cabinet was held there, and the dignitaries sat around the table listening to the current speaker.
Earl Alford, Minister of Foreign Affairs, finished his presentation "Therefore fellow ministers it is my humble proposal that the purchase of slaves by the Rmans be permitted, and that further the cabinet take a special interest in the selection of these slaves, further that the gentlemen involved in securing this treaty receive their rightful commission, and finally that the entirety of the matter be treated under the Security and Safety Act."
There were eager nods all around the table, the august assembly taking careful note of what was being said, and finally Lord Greenfield spoke up "I concur, I believe genuinely that the Foreign Ministers proposal should be accepted in full, and that the profits, if any, from this endeavour be placed into the state coffers."
Once more there were nods, and calls of "Quite quite," and "Indeed," not to mention "Bravo," and "Well said," from all around making general notes of their satisfaction with this arrangement.
"Gentlemen I suggest we take it to a vote," Lord Greenfield said "All in favour please raise your hands," he said as he raised his hand along with everyone else in the room "Oh good it's unanimous! Most excellent, please make a note of that" he called to the secretary who quietly took the minutes of the meeting.
Croneleigh Spaceport
Pendleton
Erde
Thursday 12 May 1005 NE
Outside the cold greystone buildings of Croneleigh Spaceport stood a large throng of slaves, all of them female of a physical age ranging from 16 to 28. They were all splendid specimens of the fair gender, tall, beautiful, hair colours ranging from dark brown to red to pale blonde and their complexion too varied from near olive to very fair. Even so blonde and red heads with fair complexion dominated the scene being by far the largest group. All of them were also dressed modestly and simply, enough so that one might take them for free middle-class women, but the light chains that bound some of them, and the slightly shorter than average skirts marked them all as slaves being transported in bulk.
Despite the chains many of them still managed to seek out friends and acquaintances, and huddled together they had whispered conversations under the watchful eyes of the guards. One small mercy was that the guards did not try to break them up or make them stay silent. They would occasionally cast worried glances towards the spaceport tarmac, shiver and sometimes hug each other as fearful tears rolled down their cheeks.
"I'm so afraid," one of them whispered, Kate Millbank was a pretty young woman with light reddish hair and freckles all over her face, she sniffed a couple of times as she looked at the strange alien shuttles "I don't wanna be a sapphite."
"Sssshhh," her companion whispered, an older woman named Elizabeth Cooper though only 27 as the flesh ages "We're all afraid," she said as she hugged Kate a bit, their chains clinking softly.
Another women, one they had not met before but whom they had been chained to whispered "Is it true, they are selling us to unnatural monsters?"
"Shush, it cannot be that bad, surely they wouldn't..." Elizabeth said, but Kate's words rang in her ears even so.
Matthew Georges sighed, he'd been a guard for years now and quite frankly he wanted to take a lunch break about now, and these birds weren't going to try anything he knew that. Sure they were sobbing and holding and looking scared but they'd shuffle forward when he ordered them to, that he was sure of. He sighed again then turned to his friend "Hey Mike, nice weather eh?"
"Sure thing Matt, shit," Mike scratched himself "Damn 'skeeters, so hows the missus?" he asked casually as they wandered about the outskirt of the slave collection.
"Fine, fine, feet givin' her a bit trouble what with the new one coming and all," Matt said casually "but otherwise fine, packs me nice lunch every day and..."
Right then the manager got up on top of a cargo pail and began to yell through a loudspeaker "ATTENTION! THE SECOND SHUTTLE WILL BE LOADED NOW!"
"Time ta earn our keep eh?" Matt said as he walked towards the nearest group of women gently tapping Kate with his billy club "Move now," he called and pushed her a bit.
"Yes Sir, I... I won't make trouble Sir," Kate said her head cast down as she began to walk forward tugging against the long chain, she tugged hard and sent a glance at one of the other slaves.
"MOVE!" Mike called as he tapped the other slave girl in the side, she let out a yelp but he half pulled her and after that she too shuffled forward and there was no trouble after that.
A quarter of an hour later the second shuttle had been duly loaded, indeed it had been stuffed, and then the mysterious substance that the shuttle was made of caused the doorway to simply grow shut and there was a gentle shaking inside as the shuttle lifted up and carried up towards the Deep Sky.
Inside the shuttle the women were holding each other close, many of them had broken down into tears, and a couple threw up on the floor from sheer horror of this experience. In a corner a handful of them gathered around and began to say prayers, hoping that their piety would gain them relief from whatever lay ahead, or at least that they would gain credit in heaven.
Elsewhere...
The large bank vault was open and big burly security guards in the uniform of the Southvale Bank were carrying in several sturdy iron bound bank boxes, in the middle of the vault there was a raised pillar upon which they placed one of the boxes.
The bank manager pulled a key out of his fob pocket and unlocked the iron box opening it slowly and reverently at once his face was bathed in the glittering reflection of the diamonds within. He sighed as he ran his hands through them, then he slammed close the iron box, "Make a note the diamond shipment has been received in full, and relevant deposits have been entered into the proper accounts." That closed the matter as far as the bank was concerned.
Somewhere else rich men and women were toasting their good fortune, that they had made such a wonderful deal, the ministers were happy, the bureaucrats were happy, even the accountants in Finance were happy. Indeed none of them could think of anyone who wasn't happy about this deal, at least anyone that mattered.
Pendleton
Erde
Monday 9 May 1005 NE
Two hours after the shuttle
They were in a comfortable drawing room within the spaceport, it was a pleasant enough place and the presence of several telephones and a couple of very large tables that had been brought in made it even more so. Scattered along the walls of the room were also the usual soft chairs, bookcases, and other decorative items that made up the décor of a Pendleton drawing room. In truth the only two things that made this room stand out was the absolute lack of windows, as well as the fact that the two large tables though sturdy seemed rather out of place in the room. Placed upon them were the now opened five boxes that had been recovered from the shuttle.
It had taken them roughly half an hour to figure out how to open the crystal boxes it was not just pushing the differently coloured section on the crystal, ah no! It involved holding the box upright, then tapping the differently coloured section in the same rhythm has had first been used to sing to them, but then something peculiar happened the boxes seemed to open like a flower the sides and top folding outwards in a floral pattern till, left in the centre, there were the contents of the box.
The contents were most befuddling, there were long ribbons of some peculiar brownish-dark material quite slick and slightly stiff but no more so than that it could be coiled up into thick rolls. Opening one of these rolls Lebrija examined it carefully, he held the ribbon up to the light and then burst out "AHA! Photographic negatives, but ..." he pulled the ribbon upwards "are they identical? No... they are very similar but they are not identical."
"You know Sir," Day mused "I was going down the vaudeville area not too long ago, and I saw something like that by the Luminisere brothers?"
"Lumiere Brothers Mr Day, Lumiere," Lebrija commented absentmindedly "Why yes, some kind of a projection device, ah I read about it."
"I saw one of their displays Sir Anthony," Ponsonby commented "The pictures moved, like a magic lantern show only ... more movement, it was an entertainment at a dinner I attended very droll."
"Moving pictures? You mean as in movies?" Depardieu interjected "why this is scarcely new technology it is..." then he once more realised who he was talking to.
"I see Lieutenant, ah, well Sir Anthony, could we not borrow one of these Lumiere projectors and see if it could be rigged to work?" Ponsonby asked.
"Of course Sir," Lebrija said "Mr Day could we requisition one?"
"Well Sir I don't think we'll have to, I think that we confiscated one a while back because it was being used to show all kinds of filthy things," Day replied "The boys in evidence should still have it though."
"Excellent, could you please persuade them to bring it over Mr Day?" Lebrija asked politely.
"Certain Sir, but they'll want it back pretty soon," Day said.
Ponsonby beamed "Ah conscientious service men!" he said trying to make a good impression with Depardieu.
Both Lebrija and Day just gave him a look, trying to seem as respectful as they could, Day however couldn't help but add "Oh yes, and you wouldn't believe how thoroughly they investigate the evidence Sir."
Ponsonby did not quite catch the full meaning of this, though most likely both Depardieu used to all gentlemen, or all male, assemblies understood quite implicitly. Mr Jones too got the gist, but all the evidence he gave of it was a slightly raised eyebrow.
"By your leave Sir I'll make the call," Day said as he walked
Lebrija now picked up some large single images, these he recognised at once "Ah plates for a magic lantern show," he said as he held them up to the light, they depicted the naked shape of a young woman with certain measurements drawn in. As he studied it yet further he noticed something else, there was a tiny measurement of a diamond next to each image, some larger than the other. Of course they wish to purchase slaves he thought, this then is their catalogue of specifications.
"Aaaah, what pretty young ladies, but surely this is not purely a collection of gentlemens' entertainment," Depardieu commented apparently oblivious to their true meaning.
They now had a problem Lebrija knew, how to persuade the proud Frank to depart without causing him offence for somehow Lebrija doubted that the Franks would appreciate helping with such deals. The problem however was compounded by the fact that neither Mr Jones, Day nor Ponsonby had yet made the connection and so might not be as entirely helpful as they ought.
"Mr Day perhaps we should also arrange for a magical lantern, that we might view these images too," Lebrija commented to Day, then he added "Why I dare say we can crack this riddle now, eh Lieutenant?"
"Why certainly you seem to have a most admirably grasp of these things Sir," Depardieu replied politely while wondering if they were trying to fob him off Now that it just got interesting, but why perchance would the R'mans send pictures of naked women? Do the think the Pendletonians such prudes that these pictures would permanently sear their minds?
While he pondered this Lebrija was pondering how to communicate his discovery to the others. Suddenly a smile crossed Lebrija's lips "Sir, Mr Day," he said addressing both Ponsonby and Day "If these were paintings I say they would be very much like those wonderful pieces sold at the Blue Bridge just last week, what say you Gentlemen?"
Ponsonby's head reared slightly, a glimmer of realisation flickered in his eyes "Indeed Sir Anthony, indeed, why 'tis practically a work of art this," he said looking at the pictures though feeling a tad embarrassed.
Well they'll be disappointed, the Pendletonians are just a collection of slightly uptight people that like dirty pictures but don't like to admit it Depardieu thought to himself "Yes they're quite nicely done I suppose," he replied thinking of his own work of art by the name of Yvette that he had left behind in Bruxelles Perhaps I could get back there in time for supper?
"Well Lieutenant, I'd like to give you our thanks for your patience and your support," Ponsonby said "I must confess that the sheer incomprehensiveness of the R'mans is such that without good guidance we'd be lost, now may I offer you a light supper before your return to Bruxelles? I hear our chef has exceeded himself tonight!"
"I should be honoured monsieur," Depardieu said and gave a polite bow "I find in your cuisine much that greatly resembles that of Franco Domine."
"A compliment I take it Lieutenant?" Ponsonby said smilingly even as he ambled towards the door motioning to indicate that he wished the lieutenant to follow.
Depardieu smiled and eagerly accompanied him "Why of course Monsieur Undersecretary, the ultimate compliment," and then the door slid open and they departed.
The moment the door slammed shut and they were sure Depardieu couldn't listen Day leaned forward "You're telling me the crazy dykes, the ones that do the same to Latin as the East Enders do to English, want to buy SLAVES?"
"Yes Mr Day, I don't know for sure yet, but I strongly suspect it is so," Lebrija replied as he held up more and more signs "Measurements, details, this is a shopping list unless I am much mistaken, with prices indicated."
"Damn!" Day said simply as he shook his head "I guess Marxist-Calhounism is spreading wide and far."
"Not exactly an export you'd want out there, but nevertheless," Lebrija said as he shook his head a bit.
It was then that a voice from behind made them start and turn around, indeed Mr Jones had been so quiet that they had almost forgotten he was there "Now that the foreigner is gone may I perhaps suggest that foreign nationals should not be allowed in at this stage, however helpful they may be?"
"And what alternative does the Bureau suggest when the technical skills for handling this are so out of our league Mr Jones?" Lebrija asked coolly "We're in the position of cavemen trying to understand a steam engine built by a madman!"
Mr Jones went silent at that then he commented "You have a point Chief Inspector, I shan't deny it, but I hope you will admit that I have a point as well, and a very good one that we cannot rely upon the friendship of foreigners in such dealings," he looked firmly at Lebrija and Day as if daring them to challenge his statement. Neither of them did.
Two hours later
In record time they had converted the drawing room into one suitable for the depiction of moving pictures, white linen sheets had been borrowed from the harbour masters cabinet to make a screen. Side by side now, in the far end of the room, placed on top of one of the tables there was now a film projection machine and a magic lantern side by side. Also side by side were a row of chairs wherein Ponsonby, Mr Jones, Day and Lebrija could sit and view the pictures whilst Chief Harris would operate the machines.
The movie depicted was of the sort that, though not deliberately raunchy, could nevertheless have fetched good money in the vaudeville halls for it consisted of healthy young women being displayed in various poses and diverse parts of their bodies emphasised; as well as several women side by side, with some clearly considered more favourable than others.
Likewise the still slides shown were much the same, except here the measurements were indicated with coloured arrows and numbers, showing a preference for women that were athletic, with some intelligence, equipped with long tongues, and of general good health.
"I must say this would be intolerable without some good sweet Pampas wine," Day said as they watched the fourth reel "I mean Gentlemen much as I might love seeing young women prance about in the altogether I've seen it before."
"Sir, surely you see that it's our hard duty to watch moving pictures of naked women for the betterment of the republic," Mr Jones said quite deadpan "So lets steel our resolve! Cheers!" he called as he lifted his glass of wine and drank from it.
In truth the two empty bottles on the floor, as well as the glasses in their hands and the discrete waiter standing by their side suggested strongly that they had in the custom of Pendletonians dipped a little into the Pampan wine to ease the transition into the night.
"So then gentlemen, we've all figured out what they want?" Ponsonby asked now, leaning back in his chair and watching yet another display as he wondered if he'd make it home tonight at all.
Day lifted an eyebrow "I don't think there's much doubt Sir, they want slaves."
"Aye Mr Day? Are you agreed?" Ponsonby looked at the others.
"Yes," Mr Jones said "For whatever purpose Sir they do want slaves."
"I concur," Lebrija said "Definitely slaves, a thousand unless I miss my guess."
"How much are they paying Chief Inspector?" Ponsonby asked curiously "I haven't really converted the numbers."
Lebrija rubbed his face with his palms "I don't know Sir, I'm rather fatigued," that and his head felt woozy.
Pulling out a slip stick from his inner pocket Chief Harris did some quick calculations by himself "MOTHER OF GOD!" he burst out in shock making all four of the assembled gentlemen turn their heads towards him "They're offering 30 million pounds Sirs!" he cried in stunned disbelief.
For a moment you could hear a penny drop the room was that quiet, then Ponsonby said, rather sheepishly, "That sounds ... sounds... Rather a lot"
"At thirty thousand pounds a pop they can have mine," Day said simply enough "Damn!"
"Do we really want to sell a thousand slaves from our homeworld to the socialists?" Mr Jones asked ominously "Who knows what uses they will put them to?"
"Well Sir we know they're sapphites and we know they're socialists so they believe in sharing all their property, so with ..." Day realised that his joking around was getting a little out of hand and instead changed to respectable "I dare say they want them for their own perverse uses."
"Not enough," Lebrija said simply "If someone bought a slave from a household, paying a fortune, what would you suspect?"
Day hesitated, then a thoughtful expression appeared "Planning a burglary perhaps? Or wanting to know more about the household than they ought, either are good options Sir."
"Either are good reason to worry, or even to refuse," Mr Jones said simply "The security of the Republic comes first."
"Lets not be hasty now Gentlemen," Ponsonby announced "This must pass by the Minister, and we will not refuse things out of hand."
Lebrija looked very thoughtful, then he leaned forward a bit "Sir, I am as always your servant, I bow to your judgement in this matter, and I only ask my rightful commission! For tis' an ancient custom that those who aid in opening a new trade route receive a commission is it not?"
Ponsonby was about to protest but one thought came unbidden to his mind my cousin the slave trader, what a splendid chance this is "but an oath of secrecy would have to be asked! Since they are socialists this is after all surely a security matter."
There were hidden smiles from all three men to the right of him, and Lebrija said simply "Why of course Sir, you are absolutely correct, this deal and all the things connected would be a security matter under the purview of the Joint Bureau!"
"Absolutely! A security matter, after all I want my cut from the stupid commie dykes..." Day said, once more cursing the excessive amounts of sweet wine "I mean... right, security of the Republic, duty to ones nation and all, can't you infiltrate some spies this way as well?"
"You're quite right Mr Day," Mr Jones said "we could infiltrate some spies this way, and this is too great an opportunity to let it pass," then with a suitably humble look he added "and if the Republic sees fit to grant me some small commission for this matter I shan't refuse, after all tradition is the life blood of a nation gentlemen!"
14 Jarman Street
Pendleton
Erde
Tuesday 10 May 1005 NE
The Green Room had all the symbols of the Greatness that was Pendleton, the windows were large arches giving good light and a view of the city from which the Republic took its name. The centre of the room was a long oak table and all around it was decorations of an arboreal nature from the green keenly decorated carpet to the cunning silken wallpapers. The room was in use for a session of the cabinet was held there, and the dignitaries sat around the table listening to the current speaker.
Earl Alford, Minister of Foreign Affairs, finished his presentation "Therefore fellow ministers it is my humble proposal that the purchase of slaves by the Rmans be permitted, and that further the cabinet take a special interest in the selection of these slaves, further that the gentlemen involved in securing this treaty receive their rightful commission, and finally that the entirety of the matter be treated under the Security and Safety Act."
There were eager nods all around the table, the august assembly taking careful note of what was being said, and finally Lord Greenfield spoke up "I concur, I believe genuinely that the Foreign Ministers proposal should be accepted in full, and that the profits, if any, from this endeavour be placed into the state coffers."
Once more there were nods, and calls of "Quite quite," and "Indeed," not to mention "Bravo," and "Well said," from all around making general notes of their satisfaction with this arrangement.
"Gentlemen I suggest we take it to a vote," Lord Greenfield said "All in favour please raise your hands," he said as he raised his hand along with everyone else in the room "Oh good it's unanimous! Most excellent, please make a note of that" he called to the secretary who quietly took the minutes of the meeting.
Croneleigh Spaceport
Pendleton
Erde
Thursday 12 May 1005 NE
Outside the cold greystone buildings of Croneleigh Spaceport stood a large throng of slaves, all of them female of a physical age ranging from 16 to 28. They were all splendid specimens of the fair gender, tall, beautiful, hair colours ranging from dark brown to red to pale blonde and their complexion too varied from near olive to very fair. Even so blonde and red heads with fair complexion dominated the scene being by far the largest group. All of them were also dressed modestly and simply, enough so that one might take them for free middle-class women, but the light chains that bound some of them, and the slightly shorter than average skirts marked them all as slaves being transported in bulk.
Despite the chains many of them still managed to seek out friends and acquaintances, and huddled together they had whispered conversations under the watchful eyes of the guards. One small mercy was that the guards did not try to break them up or make them stay silent. They would occasionally cast worried glances towards the spaceport tarmac, shiver and sometimes hug each other as fearful tears rolled down their cheeks.
"I'm so afraid," one of them whispered, Kate Millbank was a pretty young woman with light reddish hair and freckles all over her face, she sniffed a couple of times as she looked at the strange alien shuttles "I don't wanna be a sapphite."
"Sssshhh," her companion whispered, an older woman named Elizabeth Cooper though only 27 as the flesh ages "We're all afraid," she said as she hugged Kate a bit, their chains clinking softly.
Another women, one they had not met before but whom they had been chained to whispered "Is it true, they are selling us to unnatural monsters?"
"Shush, it cannot be that bad, surely they wouldn't..." Elizabeth said, but Kate's words rang in her ears even so.
Matthew Georges sighed, he'd been a guard for years now and quite frankly he wanted to take a lunch break about now, and these birds weren't going to try anything he knew that. Sure they were sobbing and holding and looking scared but they'd shuffle forward when he ordered them to, that he was sure of. He sighed again then turned to his friend "Hey Mike, nice weather eh?"
"Sure thing Matt, shit," Mike scratched himself "Damn 'skeeters, so hows the missus?" he asked casually as they wandered about the outskirt of the slave collection.
"Fine, fine, feet givin' her a bit trouble what with the new one coming and all," Matt said casually "but otherwise fine, packs me nice lunch every day and..."
Right then the manager got up on top of a cargo pail and began to yell through a loudspeaker "ATTENTION! THE SECOND SHUTTLE WILL BE LOADED NOW!"
"Time ta earn our keep eh?" Matt said as he walked towards the nearest group of women gently tapping Kate with his billy club "Move now," he called and pushed her a bit.
"Yes Sir, I... I won't make trouble Sir," Kate said her head cast down as she began to walk forward tugging against the long chain, she tugged hard and sent a glance at one of the other slaves.
"MOVE!" Mike called as he tapped the other slave girl in the side, she let out a yelp but he half pulled her and after that she too shuffled forward and there was no trouble after that.
A quarter of an hour later the second shuttle had been duly loaded, indeed it had been stuffed, and then the mysterious substance that the shuttle was made of caused the doorway to simply grow shut and there was a gentle shaking inside as the shuttle lifted up and carried up towards the Deep Sky.
Inside the shuttle the women were holding each other close, many of them had broken down into tears, and a couple threw up on the floor from sheer horror of this experience. In a corner a handful of them gathered around and began to say prayers, hoping that their piety would gain them relief from whatever lay ahead, or at least that they would gain credit in heaven.
Elsewhere...
The large bank vault was open and big burly security guards in the uniform of the Southvale Bank were carrying in several sturdy iron bound bank boxes, in the middle of the vault there was a raised pillar upon which they placed one of the boxes.
The bank manager pulled a key out of his fob pocket and unlocked the iron box opening it slowly and reverently at once his face was bathed in the glittering reflection of the diamonds within. He sighed as he ran his hands through them, then he slammed close the iron box, "Make a note the diamond shipment has been received in full, and relevant deposits have been entered into the proper accounts." That closed the matter as far as the bank was concerned.
Somewhere else rich men and women were toasting their good fortune, that they had made such a wonderful deal, the ministers were happy, the bureaucrats were happy, even the accountants in Finance were happy. Indeed none of them could think of anyone who wasn't happy about this deal, at least anyone that mattered.
There is Madness in Their Method - Prologue
Slaves Quarters
R'man spaceship
Late June 1005 NE
The interior of the slave quarters was kept lit during the day, a bright pleasant light that seemed to permeate the entire room acting much like sunlight. Then as night came the light would die down, not entirely but enough so that you could only move about slowly and carefully. Thus they had the comfort of at least having something of a daily rhythm to orient themselves aboard the ship.
That however was the only thing that was ordinary to them, even such things as going to the bathroom, there were about twenty in the quarters they were assigned, was strange and initially quite frightening as everything was shaped slightly different from what it was in Pendleton, and the various items seemed to come alive at the slightest provocation spraying water or hot air.
The furniture too was peculiar, it seemed to grow straight out of the ship itself, and whenever some new item was required it would appear directly out of the floor much to the surprise of the slaves. It was smooth and curved, seeming almost alive, and indeed many of them were frightened at the idea that the entire ship was in one form or another alive. The food consisted of simple fruit and vegetables, always fresh and quite tasty and nourishing, but it was very different from the heartier fare that they were used to from Pendleton.
They'd been given new clothes too, blue and green pajama like clothing that felt rather immodest to them, especially given the appraising looks they had received as they changed, but they were not about to start their relationship with new masters by being rascally or unruly. Especially since they had no idea what punishments or responses could be solicited.
Kate Millbank sat quietly on one of the benches stretching along the wall and chewing on a piece of fruit, with Elizabeth next to her, Elizabeth tried to comfort her a bit "There, there dear, eat up, no one has hurt us yet isn't that good?"
Kate nodded and smiled a bit "Yes I suppose," she sniffed a bit "We're still in the transport though."
"Yes but look on the bright side, who knows things might not be that bad when we get there."
"I'm just so... so scared."
"I know, I'm scared too, dear I'm terrified."
"Really?" Kate pulled a bit closer desperate for anyone to comfort her a bit.
"Yes, it's so new."
"Nothing being the way it used to be at home I know."
Conversations like this went on all over the place, women seeking together in pairs or in small groups and sharing their worries and woes, especially as they had nothing else to do. The journey was a frightening ordeal for everyone, and it never seemed to end, going on for week upon week, longer than even the longest sea journey at home and with no way of knowing when it would end.
Elsewhere on the ship
Perhaps Kate and Elizabeth would not be so open and forthright if they had known that everything they said and did was observed and taken notice of, but the psychologists of R'ma were already observing them and dividing them into groups for later disposal.
I'llyia Spacestation
Monday 6 June 1005 NE
The I'llyia Spacestation, pride of the R'man Republic, an ancient station in outer space where trade between the Republic and the rest of the Galaxy occurred. Of course the slaves knew none of this except that they'd been told to be ready to move, and so they had gathered up their belongings and assembled in the large cargo bay huddling together and not quite daring to look up at their guardians.
The big ship had been forced to wait for quite some time for one of the smaller entrances to be ready, after all they could hardly let some vacationing Sceptan see what cargo they carried. Now however the ship and the station mated, and the opening to the ships cargo bay slowly slid open revealing a long line of handlers inside of the station. Above three of the doors inside the station cargo hold there were coloured banners, a red one, a blue one and a green one.
"Come along now, for the sake of convenience you will be separated into three groups, and none of you make any trouble now you hear?" One of the R'mans, a Hawk, cried out in a loud voice even as she walked up and down the line studying the volumes of slaves that would now be processed.
Processing itself was quite simple the slaves proceeded down into the station in a single long line for abreast, and when they got to the line of handlers they would be daubed with a dash of paint red, blue or green and told to pass through the door with the relevant colour. Only a small fraction were daubed red, most of them were particularly handsome and intelligent with other good qualities too. Most were green or blue.
The whole procedure didn't take too long, but all the while those women that had made friendships during the trip tried desperately to stick together, holding hands and exchanging worried whispers wondering what lay behind the doors.
The Red Door
Elizabeth Cooper shivered as she walked past the red door, she was more mature than the other women though still youthful in body and despite trying to calm the others down she had great worries about what could lay in store. The area they were in looked comfortable, but it was filled with strange looking creatures looking like fusions of women and birds, no doubt appealing to a male mind but to hers they were somewhat frightening.
"We have chosen you for our special purpose," one of the creatures spoke, it was female and quite attractive but the peculiar features made Elizabeth wonder what precisely it was "You shall be treated very well, and soon you shall know true happiness and serve the army of the light."
After these cryptic statements they were separated into smaller groups yet, something which made Elizabeth worry even further, but her worries apparently were groundless for rather than being introduced into some dungeon they were taken to some rather comfortable quarters. They resembled much the ones they had been in at the ships, but larger, more spacious, and simply put more luxurious in feel.
Yet nagging in the back of her mind was the concern that the R'mans would not treat the slaves so well unless there was some special task for them. Sure enough moments after the slaves gathered another deputation entered the room, these creatures were also quite strange, and they carried strange tools with which they began to examine all the slaves. The examination was quite humiliating for many of the slaves, but they submitted meekly again, even Elizabeth did closing her eyes and thinking of something pleasant.
Finally when the R'mans were done they told the slaves simply "You will be modified to fit our needs."
The slaves seemed uncomprehending and indeed Elizabeth said "We don't understand Mistress, modified how?"
"Understanding is not required, when the modification is done you will be very happy, your situation will be much better, you wish this yes?"
"Of course Mistress."
"Good, now you get injections," the Hawk said as she pressed a strange tube against Elizabeths arm, there was a low hiss and the area felt a bit warm but when the tube was removed everything looked fine.
Later in the evening the injected women would feel drowsy, and itchy, a bit like they were in puberty as most of them also felt more aroused, but the injections would continue over the days to come. Slowly the women would notice strange growths on their body, and how they were changing, but always explained by "You are changing now, you will be much better," and increased privileges.
Within weeks there would be little recognisable about them as they were slowly transformed into R'man genotypes, Hawks and Phoenixes both, with the most lovely luminescent feathers. Fitting new ambassadors of the Republic to new strange worlds.
The Green Door
The women here were the more difficult and slightly aggressive ones, though of course this too is relative, but certainly they were the most physically apt of the women. However it is hard to be brave in an environment like this, and most of them had their eyes downcast as they walked forward into the large hall.
The R'man doctors and managers of different Clades walked among them, examining them carefully, squeezing various bodyparts and occasionally asking the odd question. Some of the women began to weep and sob, worried that they were being sized up by a group of cannibals that wished to see if they had enough meat on their bones to be worthwhile.
Then they were split into more groups, Janice Smith felt terrified, as she wept silently she wished that she had never gotten into those fights, she couldn't understand what had possessed her but she'd always been a little short tempered and so she'd been sold to these people. She bit her lower lip wondering if she would ever see her family again, she remembered them so well her brothers, her father who was a Butler and had begged for her to be retained, and now she blamed herself for causing them so much grief.
She scarcely noticed it when someone squeezed a tranquilizer tube into her neck, and moments later she keeled over falling down upon the soft floor. The R'man medical staff picked her up and stripped her naked before taking her into an operating theatre. It was quite different from the way most such theatres were in the rest of the universe, it used semi-biological tables and tools instead of the cool metal found elsewhere, but otherwise it was much the same.
Janice Smiths body was placed on the operating table and her hair was slowly shaved off till she was entirely bald, then the area was sterilized and a series of cuts were made exposing her skull and lower spine. It was dirty work and little was done to preserve her body or head from injury, it was after all not those parts they were interested in. With a low whine the cutter dug into the skull cutting it cleanly apart to expose the brain, and with a trained motion the surgeon also exposed a nice segment of the upper spine and cut it clean too.
After some twisting and turning they got the brain and the segment of the upper spine loose, the surgeon held it for a moment before placing it into a large tank standing near by. The tank was filled with an oxygen rich solution, and the moment the brain came into it several tentacle like tubes attached to supply it with blood and nourishment, but most importantly they did another job: They erased Janice's memories completely, she'd never again feel guilty about her family, never again miss her brothers that used to carry her around on her shoulders when she was six years old, she'd never miss sitting in the kitchen and watching her mother the cook make bread; she'd never remember anything in fact of her former life as she was slowly turned into the brains that would go into the War Creatures that R'ma used for her military.
Janice of course was not the only one that received this treatment, in fact many others did just the same, and by the end of the day they had all been processed. It was of course unpleasant, but they needed brains and could scarcely use R'man citizens for such purposes.
The Blue Door
Kate Millbank walked through the blue door along with most of the other women, she felt a bit worried about some of them as she knew that they had not all resisted the advances of the ships crew, but still she too was worried especially when she was separated from Elizabeth.
"You will all have a choice now," the R'man leader cried out to them, "Those of you who walk to the right of me will be paid wages, given good tips, and not be asked to do any hard labour but enjoy yourselves and let others enjoy yourselves, and perhaps find pleasure and enjoyment in it too! Consider that with enough money earned in this fashion you may buy your freedom!"
There went a shudder through the assembled women, as there was no doubt in any of their minds what this meant harlots, sapphite harlots, that's what they want us to be was the thought that went silently through the entire crowd. Then however the thoughts changed a bit, some thought I can do that, I've done bad things before why not a little more to gain freedom? Easier to earn your money on your back but others crossed themselves if they dared thinking No, it's wrong, I won't do it, no matter... no...
"Those of you who go to my left will be made the servants of rich R'man matrons, you will receive no pay whatsoever and spend your life thus, but it is a choice you have."
Kate shivered, she wanted to be brave, to accept being a maid with no chance of freedom, but deep down in her guts she wanted to be free and so the choice was so hard, so inhumanly hard. She peered at some of the R'man women and wondered could I do it, could I give myself over to unnatural passions? she wondered idly.
She choose being a maid, along with maybe a quarter of the women, the rest choose to be prostitutes lining themselves up on the right. Kate wished she could condemn them but deep down she understood all too well the choices they made, why they choose as they did and why she choose as she did.
The two groups got similar treatment in one regard, all of them were collared to ensure they did not go into sensitive military areas on the station.
Kate and the other maids received green or blue outfits, very flimsy according to their norms but at least it was something, and a nice pin on their chest to identify them. Then they were ushered into a quiet area and told to rest, soon some matron would come to claim them and they would work as maids in her house, for the rest of their lives...
The ones that chose to prostitute themselves however were given a different treatment, their clothes were a full body hose, thin like silk hose and much of the same consistency protecting their bodies while revealing everything beneath. Many of them blushed feeling ashamed at such display, having only skimpy silk sheets to help cover themselves as they were led away to the Establishments where they would service those bored R'mans whose girlfriends didn't want to be quite that kinky, or who didn't want to bother with the courtship ritual.
Thus ended the journey of the Pendletonian slaves...
R'man spaceship
Late June 1005 NE
The interior of the slave quarters was kept lit during the day, a bright pleasant light that seemed to permeate the entire room acting much like sunlight. Then as night came the light would die down, not entirely but enough so that you could only move about slowly and carefully. Thus they had the comfort of at least having something of a daily rhythm to orient themselves aboard the ship.
That however was the only thing that was ordinary to them, even such things as going to the bathroom, there were about twenty in the quarters they were assigned, was strange and initially quite frightening as everything was shaped slightly different from what it was in Pendleton, and the various items seemed to come alive at the slightest provocation spraying water or hot air.
The furniture too was peculiar, it seemed to grow straight out of the ship itself, and whenever some new item was required it would appear directly out of the floor much to the surprise of the slaves. It was smooth and curved, seeming almost alive, and indeed many of them were frightened at the idea that the entire ship was in one form or another alive. The food consisted of simple fruit and vegetables, always fresh and quite tasty and nourishing, but it was very different from the heartier fare that they were used to from Pendleton.
They'd been given new clothes too, blue and green pajama like clothing that felt rather immodest to them, especially given the appraising looks they had received as they changed, but they were not about to start their relationship with new masters by being rascally or unruly. Especially since they had no idea what punishments or responses could be solicited.
Kate Millbank sat quietly on one of the benches stretching along the wall and chewing on a piece of fruit, with Elizabeth next to her, Elizabeth tried to comfort her a bit "There, there dear, eat up, no one has hurt us yet isn't that good?"
Kate nodded and smiled a bit "Yes I suppose," she sniffed a bit "We're still in the transport though."
"Yes but look on the bright side, who knows things might not be that bad when we get there."
"I'm just so... so scared."
"I know, I'm scared too, dear I'm terrified."
"Really?" Kate pulled a bit closer desperate for anyone to comfort her a bit.
"Yes, it's so new."
"Nothing being the way it used to be at home I know."
Conversations like this went on all over the place, women seeking together in pairs or in small groups and sharing their worries and woes, especially as they had nothing else to do. The journey was a frightening ordeal for everyone, and it never seemed to end, going on for week upon week, longer than even the longest sea journey at home and with no way of knowing when it would end.
Elsewhere on the ship
Perhaps Kate and Elizabeth would not be so open and forthright if they had known that everything they said and did was observed and taken notice of, but the psychologists of R'ma were already observing them and dividing them into groups for later disposal.
I'llyia Spacestation
Monday 6 June 1005 NE
The I'llyia Spacestation, pride of the R'man Republic, an ancient station in outer space where trade between the Republic and the rest of the Galaxy occurred. Of course the slaves knew none of this except that they'd been told to be ready to move, and so they had gathered up their belongings and assembled in the large cargo bay huddling together and not quite daring to look up at their guardians.
The big ship had been forced to wait for quite some time for one of the smaller entrances to be ready, after all they could hardly let some vacationing Sceptan see what cargo they carried. Now however the ship and the station mated, and the opening to the ships cargo bay slowly slid open revealing a long line of handlers inside of the station. Above three of the doors inside the station cargo hold there were coloured banners, a red one, a blue one and a green one.
"Come along now, for the sake of convenience you will be separated into three groups, and none of you make any trouble now you hear?" One of the R'mans, a Hawk, cried out in a loud voice even as she walked up and down the line studying the volumes of slaves that would now be processed.
Processing itself was quite simple the slaves proceeded down into the station in a single long line for abreast, and when they got to the line of handlers they would be daubed with a dash of paint red, blue or green and told to pass through the door with the relevant colour. Only a small fraction were daubed red, most of them were particularly handsome and intelligent with other good qualities too. Most were green or blue.
The whole procedure didn't take too long, but all the while those women that had made friendships during the trip tried desperately to stick together, holding hands and exchanging worried whispers wondering what lay behind the doors.
The Red Door
Elizabeth Cooper shivered as she walked past the red door, she was more mature than the other women though still youthful in body and despite trying to calm the others down she had great worries about what could lay in store. The area they were in looked comfortable, but it was filled with strange looking creatures looking like fusions of women and birds, no doubt appealing to a male mind but to hers they were somewhat frightening.
"We have chosen you for our special purpose," one of the creatures spoke, it was female and quite attractive but the peculiar features made Elizabeth wonder what precisely it was "You shall be treated very well, and soon you shall know true happiness and serve the army of the light."
After these cryptic statements they were separated into smaller groups yet, something which made Elizabeth worry even further, but her worries apparently were groundless for rather than being introduced into some dungeon they were taken to some rather comfortable quarters. They resembled much the ones they had been in at the ships, but larger, more spacious, and simply put more luxurious in feel.
Yet nagging in the back of her mind was the concern that the R'mans would not treat the slaves so well unless there was some special task for them. Sure enough moments after the slaves gathered another deputation entered the room, these creatures were also quite strange, and they carried strange tools with which they began to examine all the slaves. The examination was quite humiliating for many of the slaves, but they submitted meekly again, even Elizabeth did closing her eyes and thinking of something pleasant.
Finally when the R'mans were done they told the slaves simply "You will be modified to fit our needs."
The slaves seemed uncomprehending and indeed Elizabeth said "We don't understand Mistress, modified how?"
"Understanding is not required, when the modification is done you will be very happy, your situation will be much better, you wish this yes?"
"Of course Mistress."
"Good, now you get injections," the Hawk said as she pressed a strange tube against Elizabeths arm, there was a low hiss and the area felt a bit warm but when the tube was removed everything looked fine.
Later in the evening the injected women would feel drowsy, and itchy, a bit like they were in puberty as most of them also felt more aroused, but the injections would continue over the days to come. Slowly the women would notice strange growths on their body, and how they were changing, but always explained by "You are changing now, you will be much better," and increased privileges.
Within weeks there would be little recognisable about them as they were slowly transformed into R'man genotypes, Hawks and Phoenixes both, with the most lovely luminescent feathers. Fitting new ambassadors of the Republic to new strange worlds.
The Green Door
The women here were the more difficult and slightly aggressive ones, though of course this too is relative, but certainly they were the most physically apt of the women. However it is hard to be brave in an environment like this, and most of them had their eyes downcast as they walked forward into the large hall.
The R'man doctors and managers of different Clades walked among them, examining them carefully, squeezing various bodyparts and occasionally asking the odd question. Some of the women began to weep and sob, worried that they were being sized up by a group of cannibals that wished to see if they had enough meat on their bones to be worthwhile.
Then they were split into more groups, Janice Smith felt terrified, as she wept silently she wished that she had never gotten into those fights, she couldn't understand what had possessed her but she'd always been a little short tempered and so she'd been sold to these people. She bit her lower lip wondering if she would ever see her family again, she remembered them so well her brothers, her father who was a Butler and had begged for her to be retained, and now she blamed herself for causing them so much grief.
She scarcely noticed it when someone squeezed a tranquilizer tube into her neck, and moments later she keeled over falling down upon the soft floor. The R'man medical staff picked her up and stripped her naked before taking her into an operating theatre. It was quite different from the way most such theatres were in the rest of the universe, it used semi-biological tables and tools instead of the cool metal found elsewhere, but otherwise it was much the same.
Janice Smiths body was placed on the operating table and her hair was slowly shaved off till she was entirely bald, then the area was sterilized and a series of cuts were made exposing her skull and lower spine. It was dirty work and little was done to preserve her body or head from injury, it was after all not those parts they were interested in. With a low whine the cutter dug into the skull cutting it cleanly apart to expose the brain, and with a trained motion the surgeon also exposed a nice segment of the upper spine and cut it clean too.
After some twisting and turning they got the brain and the segment of the upper spine loose, the surgeon held it for a moment before placing it into a large tank standing near by. The tank was filled with an oxygen rich solution, and the moment the brain came into it several tentacle like tubes attached to supply it with blood and nourishment, but most importantly they did another job: They erased Janice's memories completely, she'd never again feel guilty about her family, never again miss her brothers that used to carry her around on her shoulders when she was six years old, she'd never miss sitting in the kitchen and watching her mother the cook make bread; she'd never remember anything in fact of her former life as she was slowly turned into the brains that would go into the War Creatures that R'ma used for her military.
Janice of course was not the only one that received this treatment, in fact many others did just the same, and by the end of the day they had all been processed. It was of course unpleasant, but they needed brains and could scarcely use R'man citizens for such purposes.
The Blue Door
Kate Millbank walked through the blue door along with most of the other women, she felt a bit worried about some of them as she knew that they had not all resisted the advances of the ships crew, but still she too was worried especially when she was separated from Elizabeth.
"You will all have a choice now," the R'man leader cried out to them, "Those of you who walk to the right of me will be paid wages, given good tips, and not be asked to do any hard labour but enjoy yourselves and let others enjoy yourselves, and perhaps find pleasure and enjoyment in it too! Consider that with enough money earned in this fashion you may buy your freedom!"
There went a shudder through the assembled women, as there was no doubt in any of their minds what this meant harlots, sapphite harlots, that's what they want us to be was the thought that went silently through the entire crowd. Then however the thoughts changed a bit, some thought I can do that, I've done bad things before why not a little more to gain freedom? Easier to earn your money on your back but others crossed themselves if they dared thinking No, it's wrong, I won't do it, no matter... no...
"Those of you who go to my left will be made the servants of rich R'man matrons, you will receive no pay whatsoever and spend your life thus, but it is a choice you have."
Kate shivered, she wanted to be brave, to accept being a maid with no chance of freedom, but deep down in her guts she wanted to be free and so the choice was so hard, so inhumanly hard. She peered at some of the R'man women and wondered could I do it, could I give myself over to unnatural passions? she wondered idly.
She choose being a maid, along with maybe a quarter of the women, the rest choose to be prostitutes lining themselves up on the right. Kate wished she could condemn them but deep down she understood all too well the choices they made, why they choose as they did and why she choose as she did.
The two groups got similar treatment in one regard, all of them were collared to ensure they did not go into sensitive military areas on the station.
Kate and the other maids received green or blue outfits, very flimsy according to their norms but at least it was something, and a nice pin on their chest to identify them. Then they were ushered into a quiet area and told to rest, soon some matron would come to claim them and they would work as maids in her house, for the rest of their lives...
The ones that chose to prostitute themselves however were given a different treatment, their clothes were a full body hose, thin like silk hose and much of the same consistency protecting their bodies while revealing everything beneath. Many of them blushed feeling ashamed at such display, having only skimpy silk sheets to help cover themselves as they were led away to the Establishments where they would service those bored R'mans whose girlfriends didn't want to be quite that kinky, or who didn't want to bother with the courtship ritual.
Thus ended the journey of the Pendletonian slaves...