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camwynI'm about halfway finished with the last Diary of a Mountie entry. I will post the rest of it when I am done, but for now you are getting the first half, since I feel as if I haven't accomplished much of anything when I haven't put the story out to be read by other eyes than mine.
Day Ten – Late Afternoon
Somewhere Over Scotland
The events of today are rattling around in my head like loose pebbles. I wouldn't be surprised if they set off some kind of avalanche.
We slept aboard the dirigible last night, as the Inn was still locked down. Besides, we'd lost the canvas tarpaulin when Cranston had been forced to launch the beast without warning. No hope of disguising it in the field now. Prince still wasn't happy about being aboard the thing, but he had enough room to curl up next to my bed despite the smaller quarters. When morning came we had to put down, of course. I half expected Cranston to make an escape of his own, the way that man was complaining about the dirigible's lack of coffee. Didn't matter to me much, as they had plenty of tea left and I still had the peach Albert had thrown at me the night before.
Speaking of which, the man was about as forthcoming as a brick. All of us except Lord Wimsey and Danner headed back to the Inn once we'd eaten. Lord Wimsey wanted to speak with the harbour master about JAP Shipping, and Danner said he expected the stevedores' union might be able to help a bit more now that we had a name to go on. I went looking for Albert while they were gone, figuring anyone who knew as much about mermaids as he seemed to know had to have some kind of reason for it. All I got for my troubles was a string of insults, some of which weren't even in English, and a door slammed in my face. Either he's the fastest innkeeper I've ever seen or that place is built like a magician's cabinet- he'd disappeared by the time I got the door open. That kind of thing doesn't sit well with me, so I thought I'd take Prince out for a walk while I considered my next move. As I was attaching the leash to his collar - not that he needs it, but the good people of Glasgow can't be expected to feel safe in an apparent wolf's presence - Dorothy asked if she could bring Toto along. I didn't see why not.
We headed over to Elder Park on the south side of the Clyde River. I thought at first that it must've been named for being the first park in the city, but it wasn't long before we came across a statue of a dignified-looking woman. The base of the statue said she was Isabella Elder, and that she had donated this land to the city as a park in honor of her husband, George Elder. As we were looking her over, Dorothy piped up with, "There's a statue of me in the Winkie Country."
"Is that part of Oz?"
She nodded. "Oh yes. It's in the west. There's the Munchkins in the north, and the Quadlings in the south, and the Gillikins in the east, and right in the center is the Emerald City."
They didn't sound like any Indian names I'd ever heard, and somehow I doubted a girl like this could have found such people in Africa or the Orient. After the events of the night before, I was prepared to believe just about anything might be real - at least until proven otherwise. It couldn't hurt to find out more. "Hmmm. Are they all different countries, or are they-" I stopped before I could say 'provinces' and adjusted the words. "-just part of the same country? You know, the way Kansas is part of your country and the Yukon is part of mine?"
Toto yipped the way small dogs do and started chasing one of the little white butterflies that seemed to like the park so much. "Well, each of them has its own ruler, but Ozma's the Royal Ruler over all of them," said Dorothy. "It's all one country, really."
I nodded. "I see. You must've done something pretty big, if they put up a statue to you."
She giggled. "Not really. I melted the Wicked Witch of the West with a bucket of water, but it wasn't on purpose. But the Winkies were just awf'ly glad that someone had got rid of her."
I was going to ask her then if there was no one in that country to cut off wickedness before it started. I couldn't remember ever hearing of a fairy country with policemen when I was a boy, after all- but she was still talking. "That was the first time I'd ever been to Oz, and I was scared and lonesome and just wanted to get back home to Kansas." She heaved a great sigh, so big it made Prince look up. "And now I just want to get back to Oz."
She looked awfully small just then. I found myself wishing I could make her smile somehow; it's one thing for an adult to feel like that, but a child. . . "I suppose I can't blame you, Dorothy. It's hard for people to be a long, long way from home, and from the people who love them."
"Like the mermaids' Mother," said Dorothy.
I blinked. Now that she mentioned it. . . well, somehow the idea hadn't occurred to me. The Mermaid Mother was an egglayer, after all. Then again, I'd held her baby just last night, and one of the other mermaids had nursed it like any human would; how different could they really be? They looked human enough when they changed shape. Perhaps they felt like we did, too. "You know, I suppose you're right. I hadn't been thinking of her, but she probably does miss all her family."
That seemed to be enough for the girl for the moment. Her Toto had finished romping after the butterfly and came running back, flopping down at her feet. There wasn't anyone around so far as I could tell, so I undid Prince's leash for the moment. As I stood back up, she suddenly asked, "Do you miss your home too, Mr. Preston?"
Now what was I supposed to say to a question like that? I didn't belong in a city like this. I didn't even belong in a country like this. Canada's a young country and the Yukon's only just beginning to grow civilized, but here I was standing in the greatest port city of a country so old that even the Romans had been afraid to come here. But how can you say a thing like that to a little girl? All I could do was try my best to find some answer she'd understand. "I suppose I do, Dorothy. This country isn't anything like where I come from, and it's hard not to want to go home sometimes."
"What's it like where you come from?" she asked curiously.
"Wide open, and cold. Even in the summers, the Yukon Territory - that's very far north in Canada - gets cold. At least, compared to here it does. It's still mostly frontier, too, all trees and mountains and rivers where hardly anyone except the Indians and Eskimos have ever been. There's a few cities, but most of the time it's towns and lone cabins, and nothing between them but miles and miles of trail." I could have gone on about it for longer, I imagine, but that seemed like enough. I'm no poet, but I've spent most of my life on patrols all over that territory, and a man who doesn't remember the awe a place like the Yukon puts in him is a man who hasn't got a soul.
Dorothy smiled. "It sounds lovely."
Prince had found himself a spot to roll around on the grass. I reminded myself to check him over and make sure he wasn't rolling in something foul-smelling. "Oh, it is," I said, "if you like that kind of thing. A lot of people don't." She cocked her head curiously, so I explained, "A lot of men come up to get rich on gold or furs, and then they go home to their families. Sometimes they go home without getting rich at all, because it's too lonely for them. I've lived all my life there, though - most of it, anyway. I like the North Country, myself."
She nodded, and I found myself asking, "Have you got family in Oz, Dorothy?"
"My Uncle Henry and Aunt Em. I lived with them in Kansas. But when Uncle Henry lost the farm, Ozma agreed to bring them both to Oz, and we've all lived there ever since."
Well, that almost explained why no one from America had come looking for her. If she was an orphan and her guardians weren't here to know. . . Very gently, I said, "I see. No parents, then?"
But she wasn't listening. The thought of Oz had set off some chain of ideas that had won her attention instead. "It worked that time. It did work. I made the signal, and Ozma brought me there, direc'ly."
You don't get far interrogating people if you don't let them talk about what's on their mind once in a while instead of what you want to know, so all I asked was, "What time was this?"
"Four o'clock," said Dorothy, "just like we said."
"Oh - I meant when did this happen. Were you in Oz then, or was it Kansas?"
"Kansas," said the little girl. "And Ozma brought me to Oz, and then did the same for Uncle Henry and Aunt Em."
I nodded slowly. "I think it's probably just a matter of time then, Dorothy. I'll bet that if you made the signal when it was four o'clock in Kansas, it'd work properly."
She frowned, shaking her head. "I still don't understand that."
"Well," I asked, "have you ever seen a globe of the world?"
"They had one in the reading room at the asylum. It didn't have Oz on it."
Inside I winced, but all I said was, "I imagine it wouldn't, since globes don't show fairy places. The world's round just like a globe, and it turns all the time - very slowly, so we don't notice it any more than someone in a boat would notice the boat moving if they had their eyes shut. That's what makes it different times of day. It's noon when the sun's directly over the town hall, isn't it?"
"I s'pose. . . "
"Well, that's how it is. And since the world is round, if it's noon on one side it's midnight on the other, and other times in all the places in between. I bet if you made the signal when it was four o'clock in Kansas, your friend Ozma would see you. That'll be- if I remember right, that'll be at ten o'clock tonight."
"Huh," she said, getting very thoughtful indeed.
I might've said something else then, but Prince's tail suddenly perked up at the sight of other people in the park. That meant it was time to put his leash back on, and once that was done, we didn't really have much reason to stay there. Dorothy called Toto over to her, and the lot of us went back to the inn.
Lord Wimsey was already there when we got back, with Danner close behind him. "Ah, good, there you two are, was beginning to wonder what'd become of you," he said breezily. "We've got a bit more of a lead - a proper name, this time."
Prince settled himself at my feet as we all sat down around the table where we'd hatched the egg the night before. "Go on."
"Seems JAP stands for J. Alfred Prufrock Shipping. Harbour-master didn't seem to know much about 'em - they're a standoffish bunch as companies go, keep to themselves a lot. They pay an astonishing amount of money to keep it that way."
"The stevedores' union says they hire their own workers," volunteered Danner. "All foreigners."
"Quite right, quite right, old chap. Likely they're South Seas islanders, as that's where the harbour-master says the company hails from."
Danner nodded. "The union didn't know, since the Prufrock Shipping workers don't even drink at the same places the others do. They just unload the boats and work in their warehouse."
"They've got a warehouse?" I asked. "Where?"
Lord Wimsey produced a scrap of note-paper from one pocket. "Managed to convince the harbour-master to at least give me the address. Seemed to think I was some kind of lunatic for offering to invest in the company. They don't even take outside backers, never mind workers - quite a peculiar concern, wouldn't you say?"
Cranston peered at the paper. "That's not where the eggs were," he said after a moment. "Those boxes were . . . that's halfway across the harbor, isn't it?"
"Right," said Danner. "The warehouse is right on the water - I went down to have a look. It's partly built on the pier, but part of it stands on pilings out over the water. They've got guards on the place, but I don't know how many. Two that I know of, for sure."
All of us looked at each other then. I'd lay good gold dust that we were all thinking the same thing: that warehouse with the guards was where the Mermaid Queen was being held prisoner.
"Well, gentlemen," said Mary Poppins, "it looks quite as if we have our work cut out for us. Some of us are going to have to release the Queen, and some of us are going to have to return those eggs to their rightful home."
"Don't you think that's being a little hasty?" asked Cranston. "We need to do some proper reconnaissance first. No offense meant to Mr. Danner, but someone's got to confirm whether that warehouse is the place we want - and if there are any more guards - or if it's just a diversion."
"Are you volunteering, Mr. Cranston?"
"As a matter of fact, I am." He smiled, a faintly disturbing expression.
"Very well. Mr. Cranston, go and see what you can see, then report back to us. In the meantime we shall discuss our options based on what we know so far."
He rose and left. I found myself hoping he was as good at his style of finding things out as he seemed to think he was; you don't call yourself 'The Shadow' if you haven't got stealth to back up the name. That wasn't on my mind for long, though. Tom Swift was earnestly discussing his original metal net.
"That what you were working on during the blimp ride up here?" asked Danner.
"Yep. Got a pretty good-sized one built, too. I was thinking that if this warehouse hangs over the water, we might not have to worry about guards at all, so long as someone could swim in there from below."
"So what would you need the net for?"
Tom shrugged. "Just because our mermaid friend says they'll hold off on us for twenty-four hours doesn't mean there might not be other things in the water. It'd be easier to hold them off in a good strong net than to learn to use spears and knives under water this quickly."
"A valid point," murmured Miss Poppins. "Mr. Swift, can you swim?"
"Ah- no, not really. . ."
"I can," said Danner. "And you wouldn't have to worry about me holding my breath, either."
"It's a big net, Hugo. We're going to need two men for it." Tom looked over at Lord Wimsey, who shook his head regretfully.
"I can swim," I said, a little surprised to hear myself saying it. They all looked at me. "Well enough to survive, anyway. It can't be much harder than keeping my head above water in the Klondike River."
"All right, then, that's two - assuming we pursue that particular course of action." Miss Poppins pursed her lips in thought. "It might not be a bad idea to have our swimmers come up from below while some of us approach on foot, or from above."
"Above?" asked Danner, a little surprised. "I thought that-" Miss Poppins smiled, glancing across the room to where her umbrella stood beside the door. "Ah. Question withdrawn, ma'am."
"Very good. We'll decide who handles the egg question once Mr. Cranston comes back. I believe, in the meantime, that we ought to assume no more than two or three remain available for the land approach. . . two guards, you said?"
"That's right."
"Well, then. The question of the hour is: how do we get them out of the way?"
"I could run up to them crying," suggested Dorothy, "and say I was lost, or that my papa was in trouble. I bet they'd try an' help then."
"I don't know, Dorothy. Mr. Danner said they were foreigners. Even if they spoke English, they might just send you away."
"Oh." The girl frowned a little, but nodded.
It was probably the best suggestion to be thrown out for a while. Most of the other possible distractions had too many flaws in them to work. The discussion got frustrating quickly. I have to say, I was relieved to see Mr. Cranston come back. There was an odd, almost haunted look to his eyes. I've seen it before, when innocent people have stumbled across a murder victim. I never expected to see it on him.
"Well?" asked Miss Poppins.
"The warehouse is the right place," said he, sliding back into his seat at the table. "I've seen for myself. . . There are two guards flanking the main entrance, but they don't patrol the property very often." There was scorn in his voice, I can only assume at their carelessness. "It gave me enough of an opening to climb one of the side walls; the building's barely two storeys tall, and there's a skylight on the roof."
"Locked?" asked Danner.
Cranston smiled again. "Not any more." Then he sobered. "I got my look inside. It's going to be. . . difficult. The entire warehouse is filled with tanks, and each tank is filled to the brim with water - and eggs - and ice. How close they are to hatching I couldn't say, but. . ." He gave a quick shake of the head. "I saw no guards inside, human or otherwise, but from such a height it would be impossible to say for sure. What I do know is this: beyond a doubt, they have the Mermaid Queen. Our guest didn't exaggerate in the slightest."
"Sizable lady, then?" Lord Wimsey.
Cranston looked at him, a long, cool look. Finally, he said, "Are you familiar with the stories of the monster in Loch Ness?"
"You're joking!"
"I assure you, I'm not." Cranston passed a hand over his face. "I'm not talking about size alone, either. That creature - or something very much like it - IS the Mermaid Queen. She resembles nothing so much as a Charles Knight painting. They've got her strapped down over an extra-huge tank full of water. It might've been the light playing tricks on me, but I would swear there were eggs lining the bottom."
"So. . . they've got a dinosaur laying mermaid eggs by the score. . ."
"Which are being hatched out into a seagoing army of inhuman monsters." Cranston's expression was grim. I think all of ours were, at that point. "It looks like this is why they needed the League, gentlemen; today Glasgow, tomorrow the British Empire."
"Then there is no time at all to lose," said Miss Poppins. "Gentlemen, we are going to pay a call on J. Alfred Prufrock Shipping."
*** CONTINUED ON NEXT PAGE ***
Author's Note: Charles Knight, for those of you who do not know, was THE chief artist and painter of the American Museum of Natural History in New York City between 1911 and 1930. Virtually all the paintings in the Lila Acheson Wallace Hall of Extinct Mammals And Their Relatives were his work. More importantly, Knight was one of the most seminal painters of dinosaurs and was largely responsible for many 20th century conceptions of what dinosaurs looked like - including, perhaps surprisingly, some vital and active depictions of the meat-eaters that resembled Bakke's Dinosaur Heresies more than the prevailing immage of sluggish giant lizards.
Day Ten – Late Afternoon
Somewhere Over Scotland
The events of today are rattling around in my head like loose pebbles. I wouldn't be surprised if they set off some kind of avalanche.
We slept aboard the dirigible last night, as the Inn was still locked down. Besides, we'd lost the canvas tarpaulin when Cranston had been forced to launch the beast without warning. No hope of disguising it in the field now. Prince still wasn't happy about being aboard the thing, but he had enough room to curl up next to my bed despite the smaller quarters. When morning came we had to put down, of course. I half expected Cranston to make an escape of his own, the way that man was complaining about the dirigible's lack of coffee. Didn't matter to me much, as they had plenty of tea left and I still had the peach Albert had thrown at me the night before.
Speaking of which, the man was about as forthcoming as a brick. All of us except Lord Wimsey and Danner headed back to the Inn once we'd eaten. Lord Wimsey wanted to speak with the harbour master about JAP Shipping, and Danner said he expected the stevedores' union might be able to help a bit more now that we had a name to go on. I went looking for Albert while they were gone, figuring anyone who knew as much about mermaids as he seemed to know had to have some kind of reason for it. All I got for my troubles was a string of insults, some of which weren't even in English, and a door slammed in my face. Either he's the fastest innkeeper I've ever seen or that place is built like a magician's cabinet- he'd disappeared by the time I got the door open. That kind of thing doesn't sit well with me, so I thought I'd take Prince out for a walk while I considered my next move. As I was attaching the leash to his collar - not that he needs it, but the good people of Glasgow can't be expected to feel safe in an apparent wolf's presence - Dorothy asked if she could bring Toto along. I didn't see why not.
We headed over to Elder Park on the south side of the Clyde River. I thought at first that it must've been named for being the first park in the city, but it wasn't long before we came across a statue of a dignified-looking woman. The base of the statue said she was Isabella Elder, and that she had donated this land to the city as a park in honor of her husband, George Elder. As we were looking her over, Dorothy piped up with, "There's a statue of me in the Winkie Country."
"Is that part of Oz?"
She nodded. "Oh yes. It's in the west. There's the Munchkins in the north, and the Quadlings in the south, and the Gillikins in the east, and right in the center is the Emerald City."
They didn't sound like any Indian names I'd ever heard, and somehow I doubted a girl like this could have found such people in Africa or the Orient. After the events of the night before, I was prepared to believe just about anything might be real - at least until proven otherwise. It couldn't hurt to find out more. "Hmmm. Are they all different countries, or are they-" I stopped before I could say 'provinces' and adjusted the words. "-just part of the same country? You know, the way Kansas is part of your country and the Yukon is part of mine?"
Toto yipped the way small dogs do and started chasing one of the little white butterflies that seemed to like the park so much. "Well, each of them has its own ruler, but Ozma's the Royal Ruler over all of them," said Dorothy. "It's all one country, really."
I nodded. "I see. You must've done something pretty big, if they put up a statue to you."
She giggled. "Not really. I melted the Wicked Witch of the West with a bucket of water, but it wasn't on purpose. But the Winkies were just awf'ly glad that someone had got rid of her."
I was going to ask her then if there was no one in that country to cut off wickedness before it started. I couldn't remember ever hearing of a fairy country with policemen when I was a boy, after all- but she was still talking. "That was the first time I'd ever been to Oz, and I was scared and lonesome and just wanted to get back home to Kansas." She heaved a great sigh, so big it made Prince look up. "And now I just want to get back to Oz."
She looked awfully small just then. I found myself wishing I could make her smile somehow; it's one thing for an adult to feel like that, but a child. . . "I suppose I can't blame you, Dorothy. It's hard for people to be a long, long way from home, and from the people who love them."
"Like the mermaids' Mother," said Dorothy.
I blinked. Now that she mentioned it. . . well, somehow the idea hadn't occurred to me. The Mermaid Mother was an egglayer, after all. Then again, I'd held her baby just last night, and one of the other mermaids had nursed it like any human would; how different could they really be? They looked human enough when they changed shape. Perhaps they felt like we did, too. "You know, I suppose you're right. I hadn't been thinking of her, but she probably does miss all her family."
That seemed to be enough for the girl for the moment. Her Toto had finished romping after the butterfly and came running back, flopping down at her feet. There wasn't anyone around so far as I could tell, so I undid Prince's leash for the moment. As I stood back up, she suddenly asked, "Do you miss your home too, Mr. Preston?"
Now what was I supposed to say to a question like that? I didn't belong in a city like this. I didn't even belong in a country like this. Canada's a young country and the Yukon's only just beginning to grow civilized, but here I was standing in the greatest port city of a country so old that even the Romans had been afraid to come here. But how can you say a thing like that to a little girl? All I could do was try my best to find some answer she'd understand. "I suppose I do, Dorothy. This country isn't anything like where I come from, and it's hard not to want to go home sometimes."
"What's it like where you come from?" she asked curiously.
"Wide open, and cold. Even in the summers, the Yukon Territory - that's very far north in Canada - gets cold. At least, compared to here it does. It's still mostly frontier, too, all trees and mountains and rivers where hardly anyone except the Indians and Eskimos have ever been. There's a few cities, but most of the time it's towns and lone cabins, and nothing between them but miles and miles of trail." I could have gone on about it for longer, I imagine, but that seemed like enough. I'm no poet, but I've spent most of my life on patrols all over that territory, and a man who doesn't remember the awe a place like the Yukon puts in him is a man who hasn't got a soul.
Dorothy smiled. "It sounds lovely."
Prince had found himself a spot to roll around on the grass. I reminded myself to check him over and make sure he wasn't rolling in something foul-smelling. "Oh, it is," I said, "if you like that kind of thing. A lot of people don't." She cocked her head curiously, so I explained, "A lot of men come up to get rich on gold or furs, and then they go home to their families. Sometimes they go home without getting rich at all, because it's too lonely for them. I've lived all my life there, though - most of it, anyway. I like the North Country, myself."
She nodded, and I found myself asking, "Have you got family in Oz, Dorothy?"
"My Uncle Henry and Aunt Em. I lived with them in Kansas. But when Uncle Henry lost the farm, Ozma agreed to bring them both to Oz, and we've all lived there ever since."
Well, that almost explained why no one from America had come looking for her. If she was an orphan and her guardians weren't here to know. . . Very gently, I said, "I see. No parents, then?"
But she wasn't listening. The thought of Oz had set off some chain of ideas that had won her attention instead. "It worked that time. It did work. I made the signal, and Ozma brought me there, direc'ly."
You don't get far interrogating people if you don't let them talk about what's on their mind once in a while instead of what you want to know, so all I asked was, "What time was this?"
"Four o'clock," said Dorothy, "just like we said."
"Oh - I meant when did this happen. Were you in Oz then, or was it Kansas?"
"Kansas," said the little girl. "And Ozma brought me to Oz, and then did the same for Uncle Henry and Aunt Em."
I nodded slowly. "I think it's probably just a matter of time then, Dorothy. I'll bet that if you made the signal when it was four o'clock in Kansas, it'd work properly."
She frowned, shaking her head. "I still don't understand that."
"Well," I asked, "have you ever seen a globe of the world?"
"They had one in the reading room at the asylum. It didn't have Oz on it."
Inside I winced, but all I said was, "I imagine it wouldn't, since globes don't show fairy places. The world's round just like a globe, and it turns all the time - very slowly, so we don't notice it any more than someone in a boat would notice the boat moving if they had their eyes shut. That's what makes it different times of day. It's noon when the sun's directly over the town hall, isn't it?"
"I s'pose. . . "
"Well, that's how it is. And since the world is round, if it's noon on one side it's midnight on the other, and other times in all the places in between. I bet if you made the signal when it was four o'clock in Kansas, your friend Ozma would see you. That'll be- if I remember right, that'll be at ten o'clock tonight."
"Huh," she said, getting very thoughtful indeed.
I might've said something else then, but Prince's tail suddenly perked up at the sight of other people in the park. That meant it was time to put his leash back on, and once that was done, we didn't really have much reason to stay there. Dorothy called Toto over to her, and the lot of us went back to the inn.
Lord Wimsey was already there when we got back, with Danner close behind him. "Ah, good, there you two are, was beginning to wonder what'd become of you," he said breezily. "We've got a bit more of a lead - a proper name, this time."
Prince settled himself at my feet as we all sat down around the table where we'd hatched the egg the night before. "Go on."
"Seems JAP stands for J. Alfred Prufrock Shipping. Harbour-master didn't seem to know much about 'em - they're a standoffish bunch as companies go, keep to themselves a lot. They pay an astonishing amount of money to keep it that way."
"The stevedores' union says they hire their own workers," volunteered Danner. "All foreigners."
"Quite right, quite right, old chap. Likely they're South Seas islanders, as that's where the harbour-master says the company hails from."
Danner nodded. "The union didn't know, since the Prufrock Shipping workers don't even drink at the same places the others do. They just unload the boats and work in their warehouse."
"They've got a warehouse?" I asked. "Where?"
Lord Wimsey produced a scrap of note-paper from one pocket. "Managed to convince the harbour-master to at least give me the address. Seemed to think I was some kind of lunatic for offering to invest in the company. They don't even take outside backers, never mind workers - quite a peculiar concern, wouldn't you say?"
Cranston peered at the paper. "That's not where the eggs were," he said after a moment. "Those boxes were . . . that's halfway across the harbor, isn't it?"
"Right," said Danner. "The warehouse is right on the water - I went down to have a look. It's partly built on the pier, but part of it stands on pilings out over the water. They've got guards on the place, but I don't know how many. Two that I know of, for sure."
All of us looked at each other then. I'd lay good gold dust that we were all thinking the same thing: that warehouse with the guards was where the Mermaid Queen was being held prisoner.
"Well, gentlemen," said Mary Poppins, "it looks quite as if we have our work cut out for us. Some of us are going to have to release the Queen, and some of us are going to have to return those eggs to their rightful home."
"Don't you think that's being a little hasty?" asked Cranston. "We need to do some proper reconnaissance first. No offense meant to Mr. Danner, but someone's got to confirm whether that warehouse is the place we want - and if there are any more guards - or if it's just a diversion."
"Are you volunteering, Mr. Cranston?"
"As a matter of fact, I am." He smiled, a faintly disturbing expression.
"Very well. Mr. Cranston, go and see what you can see, then report back to us. In the meantime we shall discuss our options based on what we know so far."
He rose and left. I found myself hoping he was as good at his style of finding things out as he seemed to think he was; you don't call yourself 'The Shadow' if you haven't got stealth to back up the name. That wasn't on my mind for long, though. Tom Swift was earnestly discussing his original metal net.
"That what you were working on during the blimp ride up here?" asked Danner.
"Yep. Got a pretty good-sized one built, too. I was thinking that if this warehouse hangs over the water, we might not have to worry about guards at all, so long as someone could swim in there from below."
"So what would you need the net for?"
Tom shrugged. "Just because our mermaid friend says they'll hold off on us for twenty-four hours doesn't mean there might not be other things in the water. It'd be easier to hold them off in a good strong net than to learn to use spears and knives under water this quickly."
"A valid point," murmured Miss Poppins. "Mr. Swift, can you swim?"
"Ah- no, not really. . ."
"I can," said Danner. "And you wouldn't have to worry about me holding my breath, either."
"It's a big net, Hugo. We're going to need two men for it." Tom looked over at Lord Wimsey, who shook his head regretfully.
"I can swim," I said, a little surprised to hear myself saying it. They all looked at me. "Well enough to survive, anyway. It can't be much harder than keeping my head above water in the Klondike River."
"All right, then, that's two - assuming we pursue that particular course of action." Miss Poppins pursed her lips in thought. "It might not be a bad idea to have our swimmers come up from below while some of us approach on foot, or from above."
"Above?" asked Danner, a little surprised. "I thought that-" Miss Poppins smiled, glancing across the room to where her umbrella stood beside the door. "Ah. Question withdrawn, ma'am."
"Very good. We'll decide who handles the egg question once Mr. Cranston comes back. I believe, in the meantime, that we ought to assume no more than two or three remain available for the land approach. . . two guards, you said?"
"That's right."
"Well, then. The question of the hour is: how do we get them out of the way?"
"I could run up to them crying," suggested Dorothy, "and say I was lost, or that my papa was in trouble. I bet they'd try an' help then."
"I don't know, Dorothy. Mr. Danner said they were foreigners. Even if they spoke English, they might just send you away."
"Oh." The girl frowned a little, but nodded.
It was probably the best suggestion to be thrown out for a while. Most of the other possible distractions had too many flaws in them to work. The discussion got frustrating quickly. I have to say, I was relieved to see Mr. Cranston come back. There was an odd, almost haunted look to his eyes. I've seen it before, when innocent people have stumbled across a murder victim. I never expected to see it on him.
"Well?" asked Miss Poppins.
"The warehouse is the right place," said he, sliding back into his seat at the table. "I've seen for myself. . . There are two guards flanking the main entrance, but they don't patrol the property very often." There was scorn in his voice, I can only assume at their carelessness. "It gave me enough of an opening to climb one of the side walls; the building's barely two storeys tall, and there's a skylight on the roof."
"Locked?" asked Danner.
Cranston smiled again. "Not any more." Then he sobered. "I got my look inside. It's going to be. . . difficult. The entire warehouse is filled with tanks, and each tank is filled to the brim with water - and eggs - and ice. How close they are to hatching I couldn't say, but. . ." He gave a quick shake of the head. "I saw no guards inside, human or otherwise, but from such a height it would be impossible to say for sure. What I do know is this: beyond a doubt, they have the Mermaid Queen. Our guest didn't exaggerate in the slightest."
"Sizable lady, then?" Lord Wimsey.
Cranston looked at him, a long, cool look. Finally, he said, "Are you familiar with the stories of the monster in Loch Ness?"
"You're joking!"
"I assure you, I'm not." Cranston passed a hand over his face. "I'm not talking about size alone, either. That creature - or something very much like it - IS the Mermaid Queen. She resembles nothing so much as a Charles Knight painting. They've got her strapped down over an extra-huge tank full of water. It might've been the light playing tricks on me, but I would swear there were eggs lining the bottom."
"So. . . they've got a dinosaur laying mermaid eggs by the score. . ."
"Which are being hatched out into a seagoing army of inhuman monsters." Cranston's expression was grim. I think all of ours were, at that point. "It looks like this is why they needed the League, gentlemen; today Glasgow, tomorrow the British Empire."
"Then there is no time at all to lose," said Miss Poppins. "Gentlemen, we are going to pay a call on J. Alfred Prufrock Shipping."
*** CONTINUED ON NEXT PAGE ***
Author's Note: Charles Knight, for those of you who do not know, was THE chief artist and painter of the American Museum of Natural History in New York City between 1911 and 1930. Virtually all the paintings in the Lila Acheson Wallace Hall of Extinct Mammals And Their Relatives were his work. More importantly, Knight was one of the most seminal painters of dinosaurs and was largely responsible for many 20th century conceptions of what dinosaurs looked like - including, perhaps surprisingly, some vital and active depictions of the meat-eaters that resembled Bakke's Dinosaur Heresies more than the prevailing immage of sluggish giant lizards.
no subject
Date: 2003-08-13 07:59 pm (UTC)The conversation in the park didn't actually happen in game-time -- mostly because we (the players) were listening avidly to Lord Peter Wimsey's dialogue with the harbormaster.
We realized later that our characters probably ought to have been doing something at the time, so we walked the dogs.