by Barnaby Yard
~~~~
Albert was running out of fuel. The men had been pulling a large coal scuttle on wheels alongside the riot machine he had created, shovelling it in as they moved through the streets as fast as they could drag the heavy boiler. Once the fuel was gone, the plan was to scatter. The men would go home and if Mrs Strang was anything to do with it, get a clip round the ear for joining up with Garsh in the first place, and he was to make his way to a place called Ingress. He’d never been there, but he had been given directions. Now if he could just get another few minutes out of the boiler... It was then that he noticed the group of men a few hundred feet down the road from them, and advancing quickly.
The man at the front was grinning, and not in a nice way. It was the kind of grin that suggested it was the last smile that many, many men had seen. The men behind him wore bright red uniforms, and although Albert wasn’t sure what the uniforms were for, he knew they were not good news.
“Run!” he shouted to the men, who were concentrating so hard on their tasks to keep the sound coming and the cart moving, that it took them a second to catch on. He realised they weren’t going to disentangle themselves from the machinery and make an escape before the men reached them. Without thinking, he tore the coal shovel from a man whose mouth was forming an ‘O’ at the encroaching group, and ran head on towards them, shovel raised above his head. Everything seemed to run in slow motion. There was a split second when he thought he had caught the leader off guard. Just a few feet away he had already begun to swing the shovel over his shoulder to hit the man, but then he saw his face change. A grin had spread across the man’s face as he shifted his weight mid-run and stepped to the side of Albert’s charge.
Albert tried to adjust, but it was too late, his balance was all wrong. The man passed to the right of him and swung a small truncheon which landed with a crack on the back of Albert’s head.
~~~~
Spencer opened the wardrobe door a crack and looked out into the room. Everyone had gone. They’d both heard the woman called Clarissa come back with two servants of some sort. The two men had carried Lisa away, apparently towards a taxi and then a hotel. They hadn’t been able to find any identification on her, so they had decided to let her sleep it off in one of the more luxurious London hotels. There had been one dangerous moment when the two women, as Lisa had been lifted off the bed, began to discuss her dress. The louder of the two had said, "Just who does she think she is? Wearing a gown like this! Like she’s somebody!" Becky had very nearly laughed, but a nudge from Spencer in the black of the wardrobe had forced her to stifle it.
It had now been silent for almost ten minutes, and he was sure the room was clear. He stepped out and walked to the door which led out onto the corridor, putting his ear to it. Silence. He locked it to be sure no one would disturb them again, and turned back to Becky who was laying the device on the bed.
“Are we ready?”
“Yep.” She pulled a second bottle of fog from her bag, took a long draw, and passed it to him. He took what was left of the small bottle and sat next to her on the bed.
“Here we go then, let’s hope what’s waiting for us on the other side is ok.”
She turned the handle slowly, the room slipped out of focus.
~~~~
Lord Garsh walked the few yards which separated him from Spangler, pulling a small dagger from his belt as he did so.
“I don’t care about your bizarre little theories Arthur. It’s all over for you now anyway. You can’t stop me. I have our world, but there’s so many more Arthur, so many. And I intend to have them all.” He moved to just a few inches from Spangler’s face and brought the knife up, placing it against the old man’s throat. Garsh gave a thin smile as he drew the blade along Spangler’s cheek, drawing a thin line of blood.
“I intend to make you hurt Arthur.”
~~~~
Mr Pall led his men along the street towards the palace gates. Albert was being carried by two guards, one on each arm. He was conscious now, but he wasn’t enjoying the experience. His head pounded like a jackhammer and his feet didn’t seem to want to obey him properly. A carriage was coming at some speed from the other end of the street. The men stopped as it neared them, the driver heaving on the reigns as it reached the gates. Mr Pall walked towards it, arms folded.
“What’s the hurry mister?” He shouted up to the driver, who was looking over the scene in front of him with some confusion.
“Er....” The driver turned back towards the carriage doors which burst open as he spoke. A small, furious woman dressed in a rather ornate dress stepped out and marched over to the group of men who were now stood dumbfounded.
“What on earth is going on here?!”
Everybody froze. Everybody except Mr Pall.
“What are you doing out here? You need to get back inside before you get into trouble.”
“Trouble!” The woman seemed to puff up like a balloon. “I am your Queen man! I do not get into trouble, I do what I bloody well like and that often involves getting other people into trouble! Guards! Arrest this man!”
The men behind Mr Pall looked around at each other. The man they had been taking orders form was undoubtedly a nasty piece of work, but he was nothing compared to his right hand man, the man who they had taken orders from recently and was stood in front of them now. This man was as likely to kill them as he was someone who he considered their enemy, but, the Queen was the Queen, and the blood of Alexandrians were nothing if not loyal monarchists. Generations of obeying royalty was in their very DNA. A couple of them moved forward a step. Mr Pall cocked his head slightly as though listening, but didn’t turn around. Two other guards took a step.
It happened so quickly that Albert barely saw the motion until it had already happened. Pall reached into his coat pocket, pulled a small round object out and tossed it behind him. There was a loud crack and a burst of light bloomed from the street floor, blinding everyone for a moment. When they opened their eyes, Pall was already on the move, halfway across the street and darting into an alleyway.
~~~~
Spencer and Becky appeared back in the bedroom of the palace in Alexandria to find the two guards they had previously knocked out stood in the doorway of the bedroom. Becky reached into her handbag to try and find a blowpipe, but the two men had already got over the confusion of seeing two people appear in front of them, and had raised their crossbows.
19
A Death
Footsteps rang out across the cobbles from behind, but Lord Garsh did not remove his gaze from Spangler, keeping the blade pressed against his throat. It was only when Spangler's eyes widened in fear and concern at the sight behind him, that he was intrigued enough to turn and look. Two guards were leading a man and a woman towards them.
“And what do we have here?” He raised one eyebrow at the guards.
“We found them in the Queen’s room sir, her Majesty’s gone.” The guards, in a hurried conversation which took place on the walk down the main stairs of the palace, had decided to leave out the part where they had been knocked out for a period of time at their posts. “They had this with them.” The guard held up a device with a horn protruding from a brass bell. Lord Garsh’s eyes narrowed.
“Really?” He said slowly, turning back to Spangler. “These must be the friends of your's I’ve heard so much about Arthur. How wonderful of them to come to me, rather than me going to the trouble of finding them. Though...” He turned to Becky and Spencer. “I wonder what you have done with our Queen?” His eyes moved to the Vibobbler for a moment. “Though it’s of no consequence, I will simply release a statement saying the queen is ill, and requires bedrest.
“You will do no such thing!” A furious voice screeched around the cobblestone courtyard. They turned to see Queen Lisandra, marching ahead of a group of men. Her face red with indignation. “Guards! Arrest that man at once!” Garsh stepped quickly to Spangler, drawing his sword against his neck before the guards had moved more than
a step. He stood behind, using Spangler to shield from any potential crossbows from enthusiastic guards.
“It seems things have changed quicker than anticipated,” he snarled. “And now I think I will leave.” He began backing away towards the gate and the street beyond. Queen Lisandra looked around her men who were nervously raising and lowering their crossbows, unsure if they should risk a shot or not. She threw her arms into the air.
“Oh, for goodness sake!" She strode over to Lord Garsh, who turned just in time to see a small, but very determined fist flying towards his face. It struck on the bridge of his nose and he staggered backwards, releasing Spangler.
“Shoot!” screamed the Queen pointing at him with indignation. There was the twang of multiple crossbows being fired, and five arrows thudded into the chest of Lord Garsh with a sickening noise. He made no noise, but his eyes went wide and his sword clattered to the floor. Then, slowly, he fell to his knees and face first into the cobbles. A moment later, Spangler followed him. Spencer and Becky wrenched free of their guards who were now only loosely holding them by the arm as they watched the scene. They ran to where Spangler lay prone on the floor and knelt next to him.
“Arthur, are you ok?” Becky was checking his neck to see if Garsh had caused any damage, but there was nothing there.
“I don’t think I can survive without him.” They both turned to Garsh who lay a few feet away, a pool of blood forming around him.
“There’s no time, please let me explain to the Queen, we... know each other in a way.”
“But...” Becky began to protest before the Queen screeched again, her voice rising to a level similar to a dentist's drill.
“Will somebody tell me what is going on right now?!”
“Please," Spangler pleaded with them, his breathing becoming ragged. “Tell her to speak to me, now.”
~~~~
They sat in a side chamber off of the main hall. It appeared to be a room in which the Queen accepted guests. She sat on a high chair that definitely had the whiff of a throne about it at the end of a long table, they sat on smaller chairs on either side and listened.
“Your friend told me he knew my mother, and I believed him as he knew... certain things. He said I had been brainwashed by that awful man out there and that you helped save me and clear my befuddled mind. I have spoken to my advisors and they seem to corroborate this.” She looked away for a moment thoughtfully. “Some of them will have to lose their heads of course for allowing this to happen...” She snapped back to them “But that is, I’m afraid, the way of things.” She paused and took a sip of her tea from an ornately decorated china cup. “He did of course tell me to release you. Apparently, the danger to myself and my empire is not yet over, and only you can help in this regard.” She looked between them both, possibly waiting for some confirmation of this, but neither of them spoke. Spangler had died right in front of them, saying his final words to the Queen in a whisper they could only barely hear. Spencer stared at Becky, feeling awful about the tears which tracked their way down her cheeks. Becky stared at the table.
“I understand that you have lost your friend, so I will ignore your rudeness in not replying to your Queen.” Her voice implied that this was very much a one time arrangement. “I am willing to believe your friend's story, as it appears to be the only explanation to make any sense of what has happened here.” She paused for a moment, then slapped her hand down on the table in front of her. “Can you please pay attention to what I am saying!” They both jerked their heads to face her. “Thank you. I have decided that you have one hour in which to prove to me that there is indeed a further threat, and that you are able to resolve it.”
“An hour?” Spencer looked at Becky. He wasn’t sure an hour was going to be enough. They had arranged to meet Nebwett back at Ingress to connect his Vibobbler which they had used to return Lisa, to the one they were planning on bringing back from the palace. They had no idea where Garsh would have kept his, or even if he had more than one, but it didn’t matter. According to Nebwett, they only needed two to make this work. Either way, he didn’t see they had much choice.
“Ok, an hour. We’ll need to find something that Garsh left here first, we’ll need an hour from after we find what we’re looking for.” The Queen chortled, leaning back in her seat before shouting to the two men who stood by the door.
“Bring in the device!” One of the men opened the oak door to the chamber and vanished through the opening, returning a few moments later with another Vibobbler. Spencer turned from the device back to the Queen.
“How did you know we’d need it?”
“Your friend told me where to find it, and that if you were to have a chance of sorting this mess out you would need it. Last thing he said. Now, your hour has started.”
20
The Overground
Spencer and Becky shot through the main gates and into the street outside, Spencer holding the tortoise, Becky the Vibobbler.
“How long will it take us to run to Ingress from here?” He knew she could out run him easily, he was just wondering how long it would take him to catch up, and if he’d make it in time.
“Too long,” she replied. “A cab will get stuck in traffic too.” We’ll have to take the Overground.” She squinted into the light of the setting sun at the high wires which crisscrossed the city carrying the brass carriages of the Overground. “Let’s go.”
~~~~
Mr Pall had always been a man who believed in adaptation. Admittedly, this had usually been others adapting to circumstances he had imposed. For instance, he had often given people the chance to adapt to a life with a lot less money than before they met him, sometimes, even a lot less life. He also knew the value of adapting himself though, and when he had seen that the real Queen appeared to be back and that her men would follow her orders no matter what, it had been time to change tack.
He had made his escape well enough, a few guards had followed him, but he’d been able to lose two of them and kill the third. They would have expected him to run at this point, but he had other plans. He had seen what the device Garsh had could do, and the power he could have by travelling across worlds. If he could retrieve it from the palace, he could have anything he wanted.
He had set up a watch on the main gates, trying to get a feel for the new security setup around the place. It seemed pretty lax, he was pretty sure he could gain access in some way or another at nightfall. He was waiting now in a tiny alley which fed off of the main concourse, bathed in shadows. It was with no small amount of surprise that he saw two people emerge from the gate at a run, holding the very thing he craved.
~~~~
Becky leapt up the metal stairs like she was at least eighty five percent helium. He lumbered behind her carrying the tortoise awkwardly, trying not to strike it against the iron railings which lined the ascent. At the top, a large platform opened out on either side of them. The ceiling had a series of square chucks out of it, which ran to the far wall and out over the city, carriages swooped in from behind them and landed heavily for a moment, allowing passengers to board, before taking off over the edge. One was arriving as they did, and Becky raced over to it.
“This will take us most of the way, then we’ll need to change for two more stops before Ingress,” she shouted back over her shoulder as she ran. Spencer didn’t answer, preferring to save his breath for more pressing matters, like not passing out on the platform floor. They reached the carriage and stepped on behind a queue of old men wearing all white and carrying what seemed to be handbags.
“Where you going then Miss?” A conductor had appeared from nowhere to stand in front of Becky, a large and heavy looking box slung around his neck on a worn leather strap.
“Two to Elephant and Castle please,” she said, handing him some coins. He passed her two tickets and waddled off to the group of old men.
“Let’s hope Nebwett is all set up and ready to go. I doubt the Queen will get to us as soon as the hour is up, but we proba
bly won’t have long.” She walked over to the back window which was, as all the others were, covered in grime and smoke from the city below. Spencer joined her and looked out as the carriage lurched away from the platform and out over the city. As they left, he saw a man dash up to the edge of the platform and stare at their carriage as it rose. He seemed to stare straight at Spencer, which, given the man’s face, was not a pleasant experience. He looked away and tried to take in the scenery. The city sprawled below in a haphazard manner, like someone had shaken a giant handful of buildings and poured them into a space that was slightly too small for them. Becky broke the silence.
“I’m coming with you you know.” He sighed, he had expected this. Nebwett’s plan required three people, and he had planned on those three being made up of himself, Nebwett and Spangler. Spangler wasn’t an option now, and he had no idea how many of the others would have made it back to Ingress.
“I guess there is no point in me arguing with you?” he asked, smiling at her.
“None,” she answered, giving a smile back that almost made Spencer drop the tortoise. He looked back out of the window and then rapidly turned his back to it and faced the old men. The carriage was high now, nauseatingly high, and swinging in the wind in a way that was making his stomach try and venture out of his mouth. He tried to distract himself.
“What are these guys all about then?” He nodded at them.
“Bowling,” Becky answered, turning to look with him. She didn’t seem fazed by the height at all, but then, he wasn’t surprised. “It’s pretty much the national pastime around here, well, that and the horse racing. One of the men nearest them seemed to hear their conversation and moved towards them.
“Want to know about the old bowling eh?”
“Er...” Spencer replied helpfully, then after looking back out of the window and seeing the view again, made a decision. “Yes, yes I do.” Becky raised her eyebrows at him, but he needed the distraction. The old man’s eyes lit up as he launched into a series of stories from his exploits on the bowling alley.
