Month: March 2026

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Chapter 10
Bronze Silver and Gold

“Women are nothing but trouble,” says SpudGunn, “you don’t see many of them here do you? We’re better off with the pirates! No Ambers, no Angels!”

“No freedom either,” says MickeyWarr, failing to see how this encouraging pep talk can in any way be described as encouraging!

SpudGunn continues his preaching, “we weren’t free before! Mr Potato Head has all of Worringfolk under his iron fist.”

“Under his thumb?”

“That’s right. Under his iron thumb! Here it’s the same. It’s different. We help the pirates, not the mob. Then the pirates feed us, clothe us and give us somewhere to sleep. It’s as easy as falling off a piece of cake!”

“Falling off a log?”

“Yeah, that’s it, failing like a frog!”

“I thought you said you wanted to escape, if it’s so much better here, then why don’t you stay?”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.”

“You’re not thinking clearly.”

“Too right! We’re clearly not sinking!”

“Is there anybody else here I can talk to?”

SpudGunn was captured two months ago. But he’s so inept that even the pirates don’t like him. Nobody wants him on their ship, so he’s spent most of his time locked up in “The Asylum”. It’s not actually an asylum, it’s the nickname for the stone warehouse on the dockside where the pirates keep the newcomers and the trouble makers.

TallyBen keeps tabs on all the newcomers and he has MickeyWarr earmarked for the next Conwy raid. Like all the new faces, the first test of his worth is normally an interception on the Conwy Douglas route. TallyBen uses that to grade the newcomers and work out which ship to assign them to on a permanent basis.

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“What’s that thing you’re always saying? ‘Must dash’. I’m going to call you ‘Dash’. Sounds nicer than NutJob don’t you think? My special pet name for you.”

NutJob can feel his cheeks warming up. He’s not sure what to say, and he says the first thing that pops into his head, weakly suggesting, “you could call me Dave,” as he tries to suppress the blushing.

His face is clearly turning red, KristalClear notices, but pretends she hasn’t.

She smiles at him tenderly and says, “yes Dash!”

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encourage him to calm down. Realising that her hand is moving she swiftly pulls it back, remembering that she promised herself there would be no physical contact, well not yet anyway.

She studies his face. Bright, beautiful blue eyes, skin looking as soft as silk. His baby face is conspicuous, and like a little boy there is pure joy emanating from his smile. And he has lips which … yes … well of course … he has lips!

Mentally triggering a switch in her head KristalClear desperately wants to halt this train of thought.

Not now, not after an evening of working hard in the stables, she’s tired, she’s dirty and she wants to go home. Most of all, she wants to have a shower and go to sleep. She leans her head a little over to the left, the way that Tolstoy does sometimes, with a hint of a puzzled doggy look.

She looks directly into NutJob’s deep blue eyes. He can see a radiant glow on her face. And his keenness to continue talking has completely vanished.

She’s not just pretty, her smile is sincere, and it’s natural. Her gorgeous long, brown hair, and her charm all add up to making her irresistibly cute! She blinks her chestnut eyes eight times in quick succession. There is absolute silence.

KristalClear is too busy trying to control her own thoughts, and she has no spare capacity to try to tune in to the wavelength right now. How she wishes that she could read humans, and could figure out what NutJob is thinking.

She feels her heart beating a little faster than normal, as she summons up all her courage to speak as normally and as calmly as she can. He mustn’t know what’s going on in her head. Well not yet anyway.

“You’re different,” she says, “in a nice kind of way, always busy with things to do, always have something to say, always in a rush. Never a dull moment!”

She’s about to nervously bite her bottom lip, but she stops herself, and runs her fingers through her hair instead.

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herds of camels roaming free. Until the desert turned to sea when climate change became worse. East Anglia Sands in the North Sea was once habitable land you know!”

“And the first SlenderWolf?” asks NutJob, “the one with a copper coloured eye and a blue eye?”

“That’s all we have time for now. I have things to do,” says Franklin. She gestures towards the clock on the far wall, “and you two should be at work!”

A little intoxicated by Franklin’s talk of wolves, NutJob spends the whole evening chatting about it whilst he and Faraday are assembling custom made alternators. By 21:00 Faraday is happy to show him out and say good night. Stepping through the door he waves good bye and says “must dash”, then gleefully turns for home.

As he joyfully bounces along the cobbled streets he scans every side street, and every doorway, imagining that there’s a wolf watching him.

NutJob soon reaches the crossroads where King Street becomes Broadland High Street. This is where Willowdene Road branches off to the south west, leading to the popular residential corner of Lancaster. If NutJob waits here, looking north west towards the River Lune and the Garrison, there’s a fifty fifty chance that KristalClear will be on her way home about now.

He sees her as she’s approaching Broadland Park High School. Eager to tell her what he’s learnt about Ulverston, he sets off down the hill as she’s walking up.

“Franklin explained,” he exclaims excitedly, “all about the name, and how the wolves came back, and everything!”

Their route home overlaps from here, but only for a few hundred metres. NutJob is trying to make the best use of the short time available, and is effectively dominating the chat.

“You’re very lively tonight,” she says, “did they put too much sugar in your tea?”

Slightly puzzled he says, “I don’t take sugar!”

Instinctively, KristalClear begins to reach out with her right hand intending to place it on NutJob’s left shoulder and

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Which means that Wolves Here Town is not too far from the truth.”

Fascinated, NutJob wants to know more, “and when did the wolves disappear? And when did they come back? And how did they come back?”

“I could talk about this for hours,” says Franklin, “but it’s nearly 18:00 and you two have work to do! All you’re getting right now is a snapshot!”

She goes on to explain that in about 1400AD the last wolf in the British Isles was cornered on a spit of land near Grange Over Sands at the southern tip of the Lake District. Trapped on Humphrey Head, with the sea on three sides, the wolf was killed by a man called John Harrington.

“For thousands of years,” explains Franklin, “ this country had no Eurasian Grey Wolves. Until they were reintroduced into the Scottish Highlands in small numbers, as a carefully controlled scientific experiment. Then the world changed. The Decimation meant that many science projects were abandoned, forgotten, or neglected. The wolves spread out in all directions.”

“At the same time, places known as ‘zoos’ and ‘safari parks’ could no longer care for their animals. Many of them were put down. Some of them were turned into food. And a few were released into the wild.”

“If the species were native to these islands then they were to be set free in a controlled and staged release. And, of course, by 2162 that included wolves. So that led to the wild wolves from Scotland mingling with the newly released captive wolves from everywhere else, and the population slowly increased. The first part of the journey was the controlled release from the animal parks. The initial release worked as planned, but then when staffing levels collapsed, the final batches of animals were all released at the same time, including some non native species. Now, there are more black panthers than ever before in Dorset. There are colonies of wallabies all over Mannin and throughout Dartmoor. And all over the Peak District! Across the nine deserts of East Anglia there were

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Chapter 9
Red in the Face

The next Friday afternoon, just after school has finished,  KristalClear and NutJob are catching up on the latest gossip as they hurry home to get ready for work. NutJob seems unusually exuberant, “some of the lads have bought wolves’ teeth! Or to be more precise, one wolf’s tooth on a thin leather necklace.”

“Yes, I know, I saw one! You’re not getting one are you?”

“No way! Far too outrageous for me! Smacks of some kind of rebel symbolism!”

Then, trying to think of something more sensible to say, he adds, “when did the wolves come back? Actually, when did the wolves die out?”

“Not really sure. You should ask Faraday. Didn’t he work over by Ulverston once? Ulverston means Wolves Here Town doesn’t it? I’m sure he’ll know more.”

“Sure, must dash, have to grab some scoff now and better head in to work early.”

Wanting to chat about Ulverston, NutJob arrives at work at about 17:30 when his start time is actually 18:00. Franklin has just made a large pot of Manx tea for herself and Faraday, and tells NutJob to go and fetch his mug. In a corner of the PrintWorks, Faraday’s desk is messy as usual. Several half used note books lying open. More pens and pencils than he needs, and one old text book, open at a page showing a diagram of an electric motor, or a solenoid, or something. There are several small tools scattered on the desk, but there’s nothing electrical!

They clear enough space to prepare three mugs of black tea, and they all sit around chatting about wolves.

“Wolves Here Town? Almost right,” says Faraday, “Franklin actually did some research on Ulverston, I’m sure she can explain it better than me.”

“It’s a mix of Old Norse and Old English. Úlfarr means wolf army and Tun means farmstead or village,” says Franklin. “So Ulverston actually means the village of the wolf army!

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“Thirty three. I’m not going to make Captain, that’s for sure. Too few positions to be filled.” CandiCrush takes a slow deep breath, “I could try to find a permanent position on shore, or I could leave the Garrison now if I wanted to.”

She turns to look KristalClear directly in the eye, and she summons up a weak smile, “I’m not sure if I’d fit into civvy street, the Garrison has been my life.”

KristalClear wants to be helpful, “what about the Constabulary, or the Ministry of Justice, or the Secret Service? Assuming there is a Secret Service? Doesn’t the Constabulary let you keep your Garrison rank, you could still be Commander Crush, or you could be Chief Superintendent Crush if you wanted!”

CandiCrush just stares into the middle distance. No frown, no smile, just an expressionless face.

After a hesitant pause, KristalClear plays what she thinks is her master stroke, “and the Constabulary has horses!”

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Though she’s slightly taken aback and wonders what’s actually wrong. She looks up, but there’s nothing dangling from the sky.

“That necklace! You can’t wear jewellery like that when you’re riding a horse. You can’t wear jewellery of any sort when you’re in the Garrison!”

Puzzled, and genuinely wanting to know more, KristalClear sheepishly says, “you’re wearing earrings, so am I, isn’t that allowed?”

“OK, simple stud earrings are permitted, and nothing else.”

“And a watch?”

“I have a Garrison issue watch. Not a pocket watch with a dangly chain. And this one has a leather strap. Yours is fine too. Simple and functional. The rule is ‘no dangly things’ which is probably the same one as at school. What exactly did Mr Rafone say?”

“Oh he wasn’t talking to me. One of the weird boys came in wearing a wolf’s tooth on a leather bootlace around his neck. We all thought it was Mr Rafone just being picky.”

“Garrison rule. Engineering rule. Health and safety rule. I’m not surprised if it’s a school rule too! You don’t want weird boys claiming to be Pagan wizards and casting spells with their little dangly things.”

KristalClear giggles, as she carefully removes her new gold necklace.

As they walk down to the stables they start chatting about their earrings. They’re made with Meirionydd gold from the mine in Dolgellau.

“Married personnel can also wear a plain gold wedding ring if they want to.”

KristalClear looks at CandiCrush’s left hand.

“You don’t.”

“I’m not married!”

“No, neither am I!”

“You’re young! Plenty of time. I spend half my life at sea. I just haven’t met the right man yet.”

“How old are you? If you don’t mind me asking?”

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“Wait a minute! Hydroelectric generators? They’re big heavy things aren’t they?”

“No! Not now! Well they’re still big, but we’ve manged to get them down to roughly the size of a wooden chair, like the ones in school. Faraday wheeled one of the generators up to the brook, and I wheeled the other one. We ran the power line 50 metres back to the works, lowered the mill wheels into the stream, and bingo! Electricity!”

Questioning her own sanity, she continues, “OK … and what are … what are load balancers?”

Excited, NutJob’s speech becomes a little faster, and is delivered at a higher pitch.

“One generator was better than the other! We harnessed their output together, but the phases weren’t the same. The presses ran fast, then slow, then fast again. Too fast, and too slow. Faraday said the cycles were out of sync. Sometimes amplifying the current, and sometimes almost cancelling it out. We need to balance them. He knows what a load balancer is. He says there are massive ones in the Leven dam. If we want a smaller one we’re going to have to build it ourselves. From scratch. We just need to get our hands on the right components.”

—o—

By the time the cavalry returns from Ormskirk it’s mid afternoon on Saturday, and all CandiCrush wants to do is have a rest.

KristalClear is keen to get a full update on the news and is disappointed, though not surprised, to learn that nothing much happened.

CandiCrush changes the subject. Raising her right index finger in front of her, pointing at nothing in particular other than the sky, she uses her strictest head teacher voice and says, “no dangly things!”

“That’s what Mr Rafone says!” responds KristalClear.

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gently letting it cascade back into the palm of her hand. She’s too preoccupied with thoughts to notice the time passing.

“Hello!” says NutJob, with a genuine note of surprise.

“Oh! Dave! Hello!”

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

KristalClear quickly puts the necklace into the pocket of her jeans. Switching into softly softly mode, she says, “I was able to finish early after the cavalry left. I was telling Franklin about the news. How was your day?”

His face beams as they start to slowly walk along Common Garden Street, and NutJob launches into full geek mode.

“You know that side project, those standby generators that Faraday and I have been working on?”

“Uh huh,” she says politely, wondering if she could have chosen a simpler topic of conversation.

“Well they work! Not the mini turbines on the roof, there wasn’t enough wind for them to produce any viable electricity. But the portable hydroelectric generators. They work! We had power. We used two of them and we had the presses running on electricity. Last time there was a power cut we had to crank the presses by hand. We worked until midnight, did half the print run, missed the distribution deadline and it was Monday before any of the outlying towns had their copies.”

KristalClear knew all about last time. The distribution network relies on horses so she’s aware of who does what. This time around she’s interested to know how NutJob and Faraday managed to move hydroelectric power generators. The last time she saw the prototypes, they were the size of household stoves!

At the same time she’s wondering about the wisdom of pursuing this line of enquiry, because she really doesn’t want to have a science lecture in the middle of the street, late on a Friday evening!

“Tell me more,” she says cautiously.

“Load balancers,” says NutJob “we have to figure out how to balance things!”

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