Month: June 2026

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Chapter 20
The Unexpected Visitor

A mild, warm wind is quietly rustling the leaves of the trees at 05:00. It seems to carry with it a soft, white satin sheet which is cloaking the entire morning with a mild, natural scent of buds, or seeds, or immature flowers.

Lieutenant Slender is asleep in her cabin, though her dream is telling her that she’s already awake, and that she’s finding it hard to work out precisely what this half familiar smell is. It’s distant and imprecise, yet it’s tugging at her repressed childhood memories, and it’s quietly demanding an answer, as if to say “you know this smell … think harder!”

The sun rose half an hour ago. Playful flecks of light are promenading, in and out of the gaps in the roughly hewn curtains. She rolls over, running her fingertips through the soft satin sheets, though she’s beginning to suspect that what she’s actually feeling are just her simple cotton ones. A mischievous ray of light challenges her right eye. And now, she truly is awake!

Scanning the wavelengths to see who else is awake, she can detect only one solitary signal.

Below decks somebody is treating themselves to a favourite breakfast. By all accounts they are treating themselves to a little too much of it, according to this broken transmission!

« Sugar. How much sugar … without anybody … more …  wouldn’t it be nicer if I could have used some milk … »

The elusive scent is real enough. That much wasn’t a dream. Though the silky satin sheets were!

Reaching for the water jug on the vanity unit, it looks as if the batman has not yet been in. Slender’s simple ceramic mug has a trace of residue in the bottom. Too late to stop now, she’s already started pouring some water into last night’s mug! But the water smells good though. Or is that the soap?

« Honey … »

« … now that would be lovely …  »

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He explains all of this to MaxChaos. Who uncharacteristically listens patiently, and senses how HayWire’s story mirrors some of his own life story. A bit different. But quite similar in places, especially in the case of  Modern Native Languages.

HayWire repeats the question, “do we actually need a Garrison?”

He simply cannot be sure who said this, but he can remember the words exactly, because it resonated with him, then, and now.

HayWire thinks that the answer should be, “the darkest places in hell are reserved for those who maintain their neutrality in times of moral crisis.”

MaxChaos sits there thoughtfully for a moment. HayWire, has just delivered a most heartfelt explanation. Carefully studying his face, MaxChaos wants to understand his friend a little more.

“What really happened to your eye?”

 

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They were two years apart in the early years of secondary school and they didn’t know each other back then.

Then, one day, MaxChaos wasn’t there anymore.

When he was actually in school he didn’t really focus on studying much, he was labelled a day dreamer, and he was forever trying to work out ruses for not being there. It was inevitable, that eventually, he would just stop showing up.

Conversely, HayWire was always there, in body, if not in mind.

HayWire seemed to be a different type of day dreamer. Sometimes he would be completely focussed on studying, processing every word, asking probing questions, demonstrating an absolute immersion in the topic under discussion. At other times his mind was somewhere else completely, as if he was on a different planet. He was only ever interested in the things that he was interested in, and that did not include learning Welsh or Irish.

HayWire saved his spoons for the right occasions. Not wasting energy on things that he felt didn’t help him. Saving his energy and effort, for the things that he valued most. That included keeping one or two spoons to one side for his bedtime routine, to ensure that he cleaned his teeth properly, changed into pyjamas and slept in his bed, instead of in a heap on the sofa.

Even at primary school, HayWire had been struggling with certain lessons, and struggling with making friends. Many people just left him alone. Adults and children alike. Not getting involved. Suggesting, “it’s nothing to do with me”.

There was something from back then that HayWire now wants to share with MaxChaos. It would help to answer the question, the question about whether territories should have armies. It was something that had been said by one of the adults, maybe it was a teacher, maybe a support worker, or maybe even one of the visitors who had been brought in to try and help. HayWire is trying to remember the name, maybe it was DanTay?

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medicines and equipment. Doctors like Commander Wilde have to rely on herbs and plant extracts to treat ailments. There are tremendously valuable reference books, which enable doctors of the present to be far more effective than the practitioners from the nineteenth century, but there are limitations to what they can achieve these days.

Plastic syringes no longer exist. Innovative technology has led to efficient analgesics which can be administered orally. Plaster casts are back in vogue for broken bones, and dentists do extractions a lot more than they used to. Mind you, people take better care of their teeth nowadays. The idea of using wooden false teeth again has never really caught on.

Part of AuntSylvie’s job is to oversee the medical wing of the Coliseum. She and NurseCathy were fascinated by Commander Wilde’s scientific knowledge and skill. So a sophisticated library has been maintained for the staff within the Coliseum.

AuntSylvie later explains to Walker that Mrs Wilde died of meningitis. While antibiotics like penicillin can be highly effective against many infections, benzylpenicillin sodium is needed to fight meningitis. In the first place, it’s hard to engineer a chemical like that in the local pharmacy. And without intravenous tools, it’s hard to administer it effectively. Even if you can get it circulating in the body it has a fifty fifty chance of finding its way into the cerebrospinal fluid and fighting the infection.

“Thank you for the bio-chemistry lesson,” says Walker!

“Ooh, look at the time,” says Hayley, “I have to dash, it’s time for karate.”

—o—

“Spoons, mate! I’ll get you some! What sort of spoons do you want?”

MaxChaos hasn’t heard the term before, although people like HayWire know exactly what it means. They were both oddballs in their school days, though in very different ways.

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“My dad was a doctor you know,” says Hayley, as she turns to greet the visitors, “he wasn’t a marine, he didn’t deserve to die.”

Walker doesn’t know what to say. Her training has prepared her for discussing death. With adults. She’s done that a few times over the years, compassionately consoling bereaved families, but she’s never before had to have a conversation about death with an eight year old.

AuntSylvie has. She’s done it a few times. She knows Hayley’s story, because she’s been through it a number of times before. The best thing Walker can do is stay calm, let AuntSylvie manage the dialogue, add in a sympathetic smile from time to time, and a demur “yes” or “I know” or “uh huh” when the youngster is looking for reassurance.

Commander Wilde was Sylvie’s younger brother, so even though everybody at the Noble Coliseum calls her “Auntie” or “AuntSylvie”, she is Hayley’s authentic aunt.

In a very pragmatic, mature, matter of fact voice, Hayley continues. She doesn’t sound like the average eight year old.

“My grandfather was a marine. And my great grandfather too. He was the captain of The Celestial Empress when they won the Battle of Fflint.”

“Dad didn’t want people to die. He wanted them to live. That’s why he became a doctor.”

A tear begins to well up in Hayley’s eye. AuntSylvie’s too. Walker is one step ahead of them both. She raises a plain, white handkerchief to her face to catch the tears which have already started.

“He couldn’t save mum though! Mum didn’t have a serious injury. Mum had a serious illness.”

Spontaneously, all three of them allow the tears to flow. AuntSylvie takes Hayley in her arms, and strokes her hair gently. After a few moments to let the highly charged emotions subside a little, she says, “my mouth’s feeling dry, I need some tea, and a biscuit, who wants a chocolate chip cookie?”

Modern medicine has gone full circle and has returned to its roots. Long gone are the days of commercially available

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