Tag: book1

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out this building. It looks the same as all the others. And this is the only building that’s being raided, and it’s always small bits of kit! Weird!”

CandiCrush comments, “it can’t be an outsider either! They know even less about the Garrison than the locals. And anybody who spends time doing a recce would have been detected by the dogs.”

KristalClear tunes in on the wavelength again.

« Tolstoy, what have you seen? »

« Extra work with no extra rewards! »

« No, I mean unusual activity. You, or Milton, or Dickens. Have none of you seen anything strange? »

« We’ve seen extra work all round and less play! I’ll ask them though, you can ask them yourself when you get the chance. »

« You mean no humans with odd behaviour? »

« They march up and down a lot on the parade square! And then they end up back where they started! That’s not odd, that’s stupid! »

« And what other animals do you see? »

« Horses, goats and chickens of course. They live here! Some birds come and go. Some rabbits can get through the fences, and sometimes foxes too. Although, I don’t see foxes very often. »

« Foxes? When was the last time you saw a fox? »

« This morning. Happens every day now. Never used to! »

« Just a second …  »

“Tolstoy says he’s seen more fox activity lately. Could it be them?”

Everybody looks at KristalClear, then at Tolstoy, and then at KristalClear again. CandiCrush begins to smile, and as she thinks more about it, her smile grows bigger. Constable Walker doesn’t know what to think, although TedTalker is already doubting the theory.

He strikes it down with, “how would they get into the lab? And what would they want bone for anyway? There’s plenty

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Chapter 3

On The Canine Wavelength

« Hello Tolstoy! »

« Hello Pretty! »

After many interactions with the pretty, young girl who comes to visit sometimes, Tolstoy has worked out that his name is Tolstoy. Although, he still can’t figure out the naming convention which the humans use for themselves. Because none of the other humans talk to him!

Yes, they might vocalise sounds, but that’s not the same thing as being on the wavelength. Only KristalClear can do that. And she’s pretty! So in effect that’s her name when she’s communicating on the canine wavelength.

« How are things? »

« My handler’s been a bit hyperactive lately. »

« Why? What’s up? »

« No idea! He’s been going around talking to all the humans. He keeps going in and out of that big kennel over there. »

Tolstoy looks directly at the Innovation Lab.

KristalClear looks at Constable Walker, “what do we know?”

“Nothing. And if we did know something, we couldn’t share it with you anyway! Ted has been round almost all the personnel, and there’s not a single lead to go on. They’re all squeaky clean.”

TedTalker chips in, “that’s no surprise really, everyone who works here, military, civilian, even part timers like you Kristal, they’ve all been vetted. The Garrison is vital to the stability of Wolfland. Everybody on site is sound.”

Constable Walker ponders, “well if it’s not an inside job, then who else would be able to get into the lab, and leave again, undetected? You said there’s always two staff who cross check the windows and doors are left securely locked each night?”

TedTalker continues, “we’re all baffled! It can’t be one of the locals, none of them know enough about the lab to single

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We may no longer have aerospace nor rail locomotive industries, but we still have shipbuilding and power stations. And Wolfland maintains its reputation for developing some really bright engineers, like BarmyWaffle.

“BarmyWaffle!” exclaims NutJob, “he gets a mention! How did he do that?”

“That was thirty years ago, long before you were born,” says Faraday, “back then he and I were working together on the Leven Dam Project.”

“After Wolfie Windy Water built the hydro electric power station we all moved back to Lancaster. It was then that I met Franklin and I started here at the PrintWorks. Barmy got a job at the Garrison. He was always much more into fine detail than big projects, and he led the development of a new technique for improving crossbows. He used animal bone to build a composite bow. Composites of composites if I remember correctly, though you’ll have to ask him about that!”

“I’m good with copper wire. Motors and dynamos are my thing, that’s why they call me Faraday!”

“And Franklin? Why is Bennie called Franklin?”

“Benjamin Franklin. He ran a newspaper. And Benita Scott runs this newspaper. When she was promoted to editor, the other journalists nicknamed her Franklin.”

“Anyway, side project time,” says Faraday, “we need to look at those needle roller bearings again. Fine detail stuff, I need somebody like you or Barmy to do that. I don’t have dainty, agile fingers like you!”

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Libraries have tried to retain as much printed material as they can. However, technical manuals were previously held only by the businesses that wanted them, usually as PDFs!

—o—

“I thought you were meeting BarmyWaffle today?” says Franklin.

Both Franklin and Faraday are a little surprised when NutJob turns up at the PrintWorks for side project time.

“It’s complicated! He was in a rush, we had a thirty second chat and we’re going to meet properly next week.”

Bennie and Michael Scott, better known as Franklin and Faraday, run The Lancastrian. They’d like to retire soon, but they’re passionate about delivering the news. Franklin started work at the newspaper as a fifteen year old trainee journalist.

She travelled a lot, learnt all the languages in and around the Irish Sea, and has become extremely popular, and well respected. And knowledgeable!

An outgoing, bubbly lady, she has lots of friends.

Faraday is much more introverted, an electrical and mechanical engineer by trade, he has been able to maintain the twenty second century printing presses in working order much longer than the manufacturer’s guidelines. Nobody makes these printing presses any more.

Building on the engineering heritage of Wolfland, Faraday wants to build his own sustainable presses and he needs a bit of help. He’s almost fifty years older than NutJob, and in spite of that, the two of them get along incredibly well!

“Side project?” asks NutJob inquisitively, “where did this Wednesday Side Project idea come from?”

“It’s a long standing tradition you know,” says Faraday, “Franklin did some research on it a while back,  and wrote up a Bite Size History report, it’s up on the Archive Wall somewhere.”

Along the wall down one side of the PrintWorks there’s a collection of framed articles. A little faded in places, but well

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“It’s hard to say,” responds TedTalker, “the boffins keep inventories of all their weapons, crossbows, swords, bows and arrows, that sort of thing, but the lab doesn’t log every single small component. And it’s the small things that disappear.”

“Like what?”

“Let’s ask Barmy, he can explain it better than me.”

“We know we’ve lost some prototype arrow heads,” says BarmyWaffle, “some bolt tips, and some samples of bone. The Lab recently received a consignment of llama bone to experiment with. We want to see if it’s more resilient than sheep or goat.”

“Anything explosive? Anything electric?”

“The chemicals are under double lock and key. Nothing wrong there. Our battery technology programme is on hold. It’s like we’re back where it all started in the 1800s. Wet acid batteries and not much else. We have a little material for dry batteries but we’re too focussed on weaponry right now.”

“And other types of power plants?”

“The prototype drones have multi level rubber bands, or multi dimensional clockwork engines. And that stuff is all big and bulky.”

“Oh, I should introduce you to NutJob,” says Walker, “not only is he into model aircraft, he’s working with Faraday on building a portable electricity generator.”

“Yes I met him earlier, for all of sixty seconds, but you can’t put wind turbines or hydro electric plants inside aircraft! Let me show you the size of some of these enormous rubber bands and clockwork engines. And in any case, the drones are pretty useless. We’d need to build a radio control system first.”

“That’ll mean electronics,” says Walker, “transistors and stuff? Things that went out with The Decimation?”

“Exactly,” says BarmyWaffle, “we’ve not had transistors for 300 years, or thermionic valves, and that’s a 400 year old technology. We can’t manufacture any of it. We have no blueprints. We can’t even find reference material for radios, nor books on transistors or valves. It was all on computers in those days, and we know what happened to computers!”

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A bit of everyday intuition about other humans is fine, but actually reading their minds? That could be a burden as much as a blessing! Emphasising that her psychic powers only work with animals, KristalClear prefers to describe herself as being demi-psychic.

“When we get to the Lab,” says CandiCrush, “I want you to be on the look out for any signals. Even if you can’t do humans you might pick up on something subtle that the rest of us have missed.”

“Or perhaps one of the dogs will let you know if they’ve spotted something?”

—o—

Constable Walker is already at the Lab, chatting with her Garrison counterpart TedTalker.

Walker is a bright, cheerful, attractive young lady in her mid twenties, and she wears the customary police summer uniform all year round. The badge on her peaked cap has an impression of a silver wolf symbolising the Wolfland Constabulary. At 23 years of age, TedTalker resembles the smart character on the recruitment posters. He’s the archetypal British Military Police officer with a red peaked cap, bearing the same silver wolf badge.

“Inside job is what they’re saying,” says TedTalker, “but whoever it is, is cleverly masking their activity. We’ve not detected any misuse of keys, nor anything strange about the doors or windows.”

“It can’t be the lab staff themselves?” asks Walker.

“Never in a million years! All the civilian staff in the Garrison are high calibre. Everybody has security clearance. And it’s not Captain Thomson nor Commander Crush either, they’re the only other people who know how the Lab works.”

“And no other possible leads?” asks Walker, “nobody with a grudge or a grievance?”

“Zilch!”

“What do we know actually went missing?”

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that only the most experienced and confident riders are allowed to ride an Akhal Teke. He and I have been friends for years. Then, when I started work at the stables in January, you let me ride him for the first time. You said I’m experienced now. I’ve been riding for nearly eight years!”

“I know, I don’t mind. I just hadn’t expected it to be every other week! Anyway, to answer your question, I’m supposed to do one week at sea, then one week ashore, but it doesn’t always work out like that.”

KristalClear adds, “Handsome is such a ridiculously beautiful horse some people think he ought not to be a military horse at all.”

“You know there’s another Akhal Teke too, don’t you?” asks CandiCrush, “Samson, the Captain’s horse? You’ve talked with them both … and you said that they can both talk to you?”

“Yes, I chat with all of them, not just the two thoroughbreds. Working here has taught me a lot about horses. I get it straight from the horse’s mouth!”

The Garrison in Lancaster has only two Akhal Teke horses. Handsome is Commander Crush’s horse, a sturdy pure bred, he’s muscular and athletic, and he has endless stamina. He stands out, because his smoky black coat has a silvery grey metallic sheen. Samson has a deep, rich, liver chestnut coat.

“I still find it hard to believe that you can talk with horses,” says CandiCrush.

“And dogs! All sorts of animals. Until you told me that I must be psychic I thought that everyone could do it! For fifteen years I thought that mind reading and chatting with animals was completely normal.”

“And you’re sure you can’t do humans?”

“I’m sure. I’ve tried. It’s a different wavelength. I can’t connect.”

Once the news was out it spread quickly, and now everybody knows that KristalClear has psychic powers. They also think that she might be able to read humans when she gets older. However, she’s not sure if that would be a good thing.

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The ones who wouldn’t work for the common good somehow disappeared. How and when they died is not explained, but it’s not difficult to guess what happened.

Although complete peace of mind would be easier to attain if Worringfolk wasn’t on the doorstep!

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roads, and a new vitality established itself across the city. The ugliness of the street furniture and the road signs gave way to beautiful tree lined boulevards. No more tarmac and no more yellow lines. Just more people, more social interaction, and a greater sense of community. The old charm of the city of Lancaster returned.

With no television nor internet, the libraries and the cafés became a fundamental part of life. The Cricket Club, the Pétanque Club, and the Archery Club all have thriving memberships and attract young and old alike. Book clubs, amateur dramatic societies, sewing bees, and table top games have become popular. Everything is good natured. Even the Scrabble Club!

People earnestly engage in all sorts of leisure pursuits, because that’s what helps them connect.

The giant corporations all disappeared, because their distribution networks had relied on fleets of trucks and regional depots. Now, a symbiotic relationship between small shops, local traders and farmers is at the core of the economy. There’s just enough commerce around them, with banks, stables, couriers and artisans all contributing to a widespread decent standard of living and complete peace of mind.

It’s the same in Preston and Ulverston, towns which have seen a complete restoration of maritime trade. Smaller inland towns, places like Ormskirk and Skelmersdale have also adjusted well, with thriving centres perfectly adapted to an economy built around moving goods and moving people by horse.

Great wealth and riches are no longer the objects of desire. A decent standard of living means having access to a horse when it’s needed. And complete peace of mind means having a stable family with a comfortable home, supplied by a local economy which has adequate food and adequate drinking water.

Hunger is a great leveller. History lessons at school teach everybody about The Decimation and The Great Famine, and how the greedy and the corrupt were starved into submission.

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Today, NutJob is going to meet BarmyWaffle for the first time. They both want to explore improved ways of generating and harnessing electricity.

Wearing a loud, blue tie, and still wearing his white lab coat, an agitated BarmyWaffle arrives thirty minutes late.

“Stuff’s gone AWOL again!”

“Ah, you must be NutJob? Delighted to meet you! My name’s Emmett. But everybody calls me Barmy! Barmy as in proper noun, not as in adjective! Though some might disagree!”

“Likewise! I’m Dave. But everybody calls me NutJob!”

“I can’t stay unfortunately, I’ve just been round to the Constabulary, they’re sending an officer over to the Garrison now. I need to get back. Let’s get together next Wednesday for a proper chat.”

“OK,” says NutJob, “I must dash, I need to catch up with Faraday and find out how he’s been getting on with our side project.”

“Thanks for the tea,” he says to CandiCrush, then he smartly heads off towards the PrintWorks, walking at a preposterously rapid pace.

NutJob works part time at The Lancastrian, the main newspaper in Wolfland. In 2450AD there are no telecoms, no internet, and there’s scarcely any electricity. Hence, a traditional newspaper is the main way that people keep up with the news. Electricity is provided to the PrintWorks only on Fridays, so the company is keen to develop its own independent supply. That’s what NutJob is working on.

Like most youngsters with part time jobs, KristalClear and NutJob work on Friday evenings after school, and on Saturdays.

CandiCrush and KristalClear finish their tea, and set off on foot towards Broadland High Street, then down towards the river and the Garrison. They’re keen to find out what’s going on.

Soon after the cars vanished from Lancaster, everyday life changed. New homes and businesses replaced the superfluous

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