Month: June 2026

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mind you, they can’t buy anything dangerous, so they are trying to produce their own.”

“I’m not alarmed by this at all,” says CandiCrush, “I want inventive people here, in the Garrison, working with Barmy. I want creative minds working alongside us, not out of reach.”

That wasn’t what Walker had expected, “oh, then this is a good thing?”

CandiCrush nods.

“You’ll remember I mentioned Max to you before. He’s the one who disabled the Bandersnatch with a flaming arrow.”

“Yes. Tell me more about him.”

Walker takes a sheet of paper from her pouch, and reads from it.

“Maximillian Armstrong. Better known as MaxChaos. He’s twenty years old with no police record. His mother died when he was young and he was brought up by his father who was a docker. Owing to work, his father wasn’t always around and Max had difficulty studying. He gave up on school when he was thirteen years old. He has no qualifications. It was agreed that it was in everybody’s best interest, including his, to let him be.”

“He works on and off in the docks, and sometimes aboard ship. His father vanished when he was sixteen. Nobody knows what happened to him. Max is a highly accomplished, self-taught archer. He hunts deer and he has an exceedingly good diet. He also snares rabbits and other game. He’s tried inventing booby traps to catch bigger animals like wild boar.”

“He lives in a shared house with other dockers, but he doesn’t drink much, so he has trouble mixing with them. You’ll rarely find him in The George Tavern, and he spends most of his spare time in the woods tracking animals. Or he’ll be socialising with a small group of friends. He’s dependable and he’ll go out of his way to protect his friends.”

“But he’s scruffy, and he looks like a rebel. He’s basically had a tough life since the age of ten, but he’s warm hearted, he’s big and strong, and he’s done well to get some stability in his life.”

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Chapter 24

Fate Rewards the Brave

Constable Walker has been invited back to the Garrison to have another chat with TedTalker and CandiCrush.

In her office!

For a military office this one is neat and tidy in the extreme. A simple, pale grey blind has already been lowered obscuring the view in through the window. Along one wall there are locked cabinets, and on the opposite wall there’s a framed painting of a magnificent fully rigged man-o-war, cruising on an unfussy, but powerful sea. On either side of the large painting there are two smaller ones, portraits of horses of uncertain fame.

To one side of the desk, there’s a plain wooden ‘In’ tray, and on the other side, a matching ‘Out’ tray. They are both empty. The desk is almost clear except for a blank notepad and a pencil, and a small pot plant the size of a wooden spoon. It has a sturdy, thin stem with just a few young leaves beginning to show.

Sitting behind the desk is Commander Crush, wearing her familiar drab olive T shirt, under a light MTP jacket. As Corky shows the two police officers in, she rises and smiles.

“Toni! Ted! Lovely to see you both. Oh, and Corky, please have some tea brought in.”

“Admiring my Triffid? I wanted to have a feminine touch in here, but still maintain a Garrison feel. Without this in here, the room looks a bit spartan.”

Walker says nothing as she thinks that even with this so called Triffid in the room, it still looks a bit spartan!

“Let me come straight to the point,” says CandiCrush, “I hear that there have been some explosive developments. Beyond the Innovation Lab. Do we actually know what’s going on?”

“Ah, yes,” says Walker, “you’re talking about HayWire and MaxChaos? Nothing sinister. From what I hear they’re working on booby traps, using explosive gas. Not much gas

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“And I must dash,” says NutJob, “I actually need to get to the Coliseum. Mr Rafone is planning something special later this month. I’m involved too, and there’s this new lad called AngryBard. He’s young and he’s already in the school orchestra. Naturally the orchestra is dominated by girls. So of course we all thought he was chasing one of them. However, he’s quite an accomplished musician by all accounts. I must dash, I need to practice.”

“Are you still trying to learn to play the guitar?” asks Franklin.

“No, now I’m learning to play the drums!”

“Drums?” asks Faraday, “that’s a bit rebellious isn’t it?”

“Kettle drums!”

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“I don’t mind advertorials,” says Faraday, “but subterfuge goes against the ethos of The Lancastrian.”

“It’s not subterfuge, it’s a lightly doctored horoscope.”

“Talk to Honey and Julia about this, do they know what the lads are doing? I don’t mind helping Magnum Opus, but we need to keep it on a professional level. And I don’t want to favour one restaurant over the others. They’re all potential advertisers.”

“So business is business?” asks NutJob, “and anyway, who is this CelesteEmbrace?”

“It’s a secret,” says Franklin, “but you can guess that it’s not just one person.”

“And it’s supposed to be a bit of fun,” says Faraday, “something to get more people interested in picking up the paper. But I don’t trust horoscopes or the people who write them.”

“You can say that again,” says NutJob, “I don’t trust them either.”

“It’s not all make believe you know,” says Franklin, “there are genuine values and ethics in there, and the flowery bits are added later to make the passages more thought provoking. The team at the Coliseum work hard on these. Ooh, I didn’t say that!”

“The Noble Coliseum?” asks NutJob, “AuntSylvie?”

“It’s not just one person,” says Franklin sternly, “and keep this to yourself. We’re trying to build intrigue and drum up some more business. If you tell anybody, even Kristal, you’ll destroy the work we’ve already done.”

Changing the subject slightly NutJob says, “you could get the cafés and restaurants involved in a regular food column. Recipes or something, a Try This At Home article. That would give them all publicity, each one in turn, or at least the ones that would pay a small fee to be featured?”

“Smart thinking!” says Faraday.

Franklin nods in agreement, “that’s worth exploring, thank you.”

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“See!” says NutJob “what does all that mean? It’s the same as the first one. It could mean anything!”

“You philistine! This is great news. I’m going to make a new friend. Maybe it’ll be CelesteEmbrace? I want to meet her. She and I would really get along, this is the best thing I’ve seen in the paper for ages.”

NutJob thinks he may have touched on a raw nerve with his clumsy comments. In order to avoid any more explosive developments in future, he thinks that he might need to modify his attitude to horoscopes. The last thing he wants is to make a sensitive issue worse. He tries to back pedal and see if he can minimise the friction.

Diplomatically he says, “I’ll see if I can find out who CelesteEmbrace is, the next time I see Franklin and Faraday.”

—o—

“How does this one sound?” asks Franklin.

When life is messy and disorganised you can feel anxious. You’re struggling to find common ground with a loved one. You might even wonder whether you will ever really understand each other. Remember, you aren’t losing control, you’re the one who’s  in a delicate place right now, and those close to you can help. Take a deep breath, things will improve soon, a nice day out, or a meal at a special restaurant will set you on the right path again.

“Plausible. Who did that one?” asks Faraday, “who’s it for?”

“Tigger and Marcus worked on it.”

“That explains it! It’s a covert advert for Magnum Opus!”

“They’re willing to pay us to drop subliminal messages into the paper from time to time. Like an advertorial, but more subtle.”

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Maybe NutJob was just too dismissive, and didn’t really notice the word “who” where it says “the one who is”.

These days, and quite justifiably, KristalClear sees herself as “the one who is most important” to NutJob, but she’s reluctant to say so.

“It probably means ‘a thing’. What’s that thing you’re working on right now?”

“So many things! Anyway, you can read anything you like into horoscopes. That’s why I don’t trust them. You understand it better than I do, you said you’re demi-psychic. You tell me what it means!”

“I can’t do human stuff, I can only do animals. And only in real time. I have no way of knowing what’s going to happen next. It’s not mind reading you know, I just get a feeling for what they’re thinking. I definitely can’t do predictions.”

“Kayt and Conning say you can read humans. Lots of people think you can.”

“Kayt and Conning are song writers, they’re supposed to have vivid imaginations. They make stuff up.”

“Wait,” says NutJob, “they haven’t started writing horoscopes have they?”

“I don’t think so! I’ll try to find out next time I see them. Discreetly, of course! Let’s have a look at mine.”

Virgo Your intuition is enviable and you have a flair for sensing things close at hand. Take care, because good news may come from further away and at an unexpected moment. A sudden burst of creativity may lead to a new idea and that could allow you to make a new friend or catch up with an old one. This opportunity could significantly enhance your relationships and help you build your station in life. Stay open minded.

 

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“It’s not Franklin,” says NutJob, “she’s a serious reporter. News and things! I wonder who she asked to write this? Look at this one! Who makes this up?”

Libra Thrilling news awaits you, though it may raise anxiety levels at first. Sometimes the best things come from unexpected directions. Your determination and positive energy will help you make the most of a new opportunity. Played well, this may be a stepping stone to an explosive new development for you, or for somebody close to you. Keep your options open, and be mindful what you say. Fate rewards the brave.

“What star sign are you?” asks KristalClear.

“I don’t trust any of that stuff. It’s all make believe!”

“Go on, tell me. No don’t tell me. I know! Your birthday’s at the end of October. You’re a Scorpio!”

“Only just, 24 October! I was sixteen, you gave me a card, remember?”

She remembers, and she’s becoming quite excited. Pulling the paper towards her she says, “let’s look!”

She reads it out.

Scorpio Behind the scenes there are challenges which may divert you from your objectives. Immerse yourself in your hobby or personal side project, and you will emerge with a clearer mind. That will allow you to see things with fresh eyes, and focus on the one who is most important to you. Embrace the right path with confidence.

“What does that mean?” asks NutJob, “the one? Is that one person or one thing?”

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“We’re not! Not at a watchmaker, not at a pharmacy, not even in the Garrison.”

Fidgeting with ceramic jars, goats’ bladders, and tubes made from wild reeds, the two youngsters succeed in capturing some hydrogen from the reaction between the iron filings and the acid. Attaching a lighted match to the end of a stick, they cautiously put a flame to the opening of the bladder. It gives a distinct pop as the hydrogen burns off instantly. Loud enough to scare a geriatric field mouse, but not particularly impressive according to MaxChaos.

HayWire’s eyes light up like a six year old with a birthday present.

“We’ve done it! We’ve made hydrogen! We’re onto something here!”

Standing in the middle of a field, thinking hard, he suddenly exclaims.

“Potassium! There’s potassium feldspar in Cornish granite! And we need a bigger bladder, a pig’s bladder.”

HayWire dances about, pretending to be a jester, waving a stick in the air whilst imagining an inflated pig’s bladder on the end of it.

All the sudden frolicking has set off his nose bleed again. He reaches into his pocket, sits on the ground, and stuffs a hankie up one nostril. He softly shakes his head and thinks “why is life such a rollercoaster ride!”

—o—

Opening up the paper and showing it to KristalClear, NutJob asks, “have you seen this new column in The Lancastrian? They’re doing horoscopes now!”

“Ooh, show me!”

KristalClear quickly scans the heading and asks, “ooh, who’s CelesteEmbrace?”

“A pen name I expect!”

“Do we know who it is in real life?”

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the first time this week, they’ve moved me to working with R&D.”

“Aaron Dee?” thinks MaxChaos, but decides not to ask.

He had thought that this side project with HayWire would involve gunpowder. He’s not entirely sure that hydrogen is safe, because he remembers hearing stories about it when he was young.

Wasn’t there an airship which used hydrogen, and it exploded, killing everyone?

“Wouldn’t it be better to just get some sulphur and make our own gunpowder?” asks MaxChaos.

“I’ve been trying! But you can’t exactly tell a master watchmaker that you’d like some sulphur. He’s going to ask why! Once I realised we had various chemicals in stock, all I had to do was match what we have to what the text books say. Some acid and some sort of reactive metal can make hydrogen. Oh, sorry, you don’t read do you?”

“You’d better watch it!” MaxChaos retorts, “I’m good with a bow and arrow!” He adds, “and I can read and write! I just don’t spend hours in the library like you.”

MaxChaos is just trying to stop the conversation getting out of hand. He’s calm enough, and he’s genuinely interested in inventing something new.

Traditional animal traps are fine for rabbits and things, but hunting boar or deer still requires a bow and arrow. He’d like an old fashioned gun, or something better. He’s convinced that gunpowder is a necessary stepping stone to building a workable gun.

“Do we have any reactive metal?”

“We’re using iron shavings for now, they’re mildly reactive. If this proof of concept works then we’re going to try to find something higher up the metal reactivity series!”

Unsure exactly what that means, MaxChaos asks, “like what?”

“The next two are chromium and zinc, but I’d really like something more volatile, like sodium.”

“Where are we going to find sodium?”

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