Tag: book1

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“Oh, this is terrible, if it’s bad, it’s terrible, if it’s good, it’s terrible! I don’t know what’s worse!”

“This isn’t making any sense, what’s good, what’s terrible?”

“At work this afternoon, I had an unexpected visitor. He was asking about shipments of silver, and zinc. He wasn’t asking about provisioning at all!”

“Who?”

“MaxChaos!”

“MaxChaos? What’s so bad about that?”

“He gave me a love letter!”

Stunned silence!

Followed by more stunned silence!

Staring at Conning with incredulity, KristalClear can sense creepy crawlies climbing up the back of her neck, becoming tangled and trapped in her clean, beautiful, long, deep brown hair. She can feel a cold, wet haddock taking hold of her hand, tugging her towards a chilly Irish Sea. Her feet are twitching as she senses quicksand begin to ooze up and engulf her shoes, with an insurmountable force pulling her down.

“That’s interesting,” she says, “tell me more!”

Once again, not knowing whether to laugh or cry Conning can feel tears of anguish battling to cascade down her delicate, pretty face. She fights them back.

“It was awful! He obviously wrote it himself, without any help. You know he’s not good at reading and writing.”

“What did it say?”

“I can’t tell you, childish gibberish, something about buttercups … that’s enough!”

“Yes, and how does that make you feel?”

Conning’s mind is wandering. She doesn’t answer the question. Her thoughts are already racing in a different direction. She’s thinking the horoscope said “played well, this may be a stepping stone”.

Conning blurts out, “oh no, is this supposed to be good news? What did I say? I told him he has BO! Well, I didn’t say ‘you have BO’, I said he smelt of fish. He’s probably too thick

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“NutJob just gave me today’s paper. What do you know about CelesteEmbrace?”

Pinching the skin beneath her chin, and raising her eye brows Conning says, “ooh, embracing him now are you? Don’t talk to me about your love life! I don’t have one!”

“No it’s a name, CelesteEmbrace.”

“Celeste Embrace? Is it the name of a novel?”

“You’ve never heard of her? CelesteEmbrace? She writes a column for The Lancastrian.”

“What sort of column?”

“She does horoscopes.”

“Ooh, show me, what does mine say?”

“Your birthday’s just after mine isn’t it, but you’re not a Virgo … you’re a Libra! Ooh! That’s the first one we looked at earlier!”

Conning presses her to read it out, “what does it say?”

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.

Puzzled, Conning says, “well it was unexpected, but it wasn’t exactly thrilling!”

“What are you talking about?” asks KristalClear.

“Oh nothing. I shouldn’t have said anything. Can we just leave it?”

“No, you can’t just stop now, and not explain. You have to tell me!”

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On one hand she’s delighted to be at the centre of attention. Setting aside the disarray of schoolchild follies, she can’t recall ever having received an adult love letter before. On the other hand she’s petrified, because it’s from MaxChaos! Uncultured. Cavalier. Chunky.

And stupid!

In spite of which he has a sweet, sympathetic side which he shows sporadically. He’s genuinely friendly, and he possesses an unbending will to protect the ones he cares about. But he still hasn’t learnt the importance of personal hygiene. He smells, his hair is long and ragged, he’s never been to a barber, and he has no idea that a deer skin jacket has to go to the cleaners once in a while.

Conning resolves to bin the letter. No, burn it! Nobody should see it, nobody should even know that it ever existed. It has to be destroyed, and then the whole thing has to be kept quiet. But she can’t bring herself to do it. A personal letter from a romantic admirer. A deranged, scatter brained, romantic admirer, who has a habit of setting booby traps. But nonetheless, a romantic admirer.

It’s folded in half, put back into the small pink envelope it came in, and quickly hidden.

She reads it again, later that evening back at home, and again debates destroying it. However, it’s put back into the envelope, which is then placed inside a delicate white purse that Conning has never used. That’s put inside one of the small, sparkly handbags that she bought when she was much younger, and finally it’s all hidden beneath the woolly sweaters in the bottom drawer of the wooden chest in her room. Nobody will ever find it. But she’ll know where it is, in the unlikely event that she would want to look at it again.

It’s Saturday evening and Conning heads out to catch up with her friends, whilst committed to staying silent on the question of love letters. She’s the first to arrive at the Find Thyme Café just ahead of KristalClear.

As the two of them find a table overlooking the market square KristalClear takes out the newspaper

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“How would I find out who’s shipping what? Could you help?”

“Mum knows more about this than I do. She’s been doing this job for years. Write down what you’re looking for. No promises, but I’ll see if there’s a way to find out. What metals in particular?”

“HayWire said that sodium or potassium would be ideal!”

Thinking that MaxChaos wouldn’t even know what sodium or potassium are, she’s rightly suspicious. Why is HayWire involved? What are they up to?

“You’d better write it down. I can ask around, even before mum gets back.”

“I’ve already written it down.”

He passes her a small envelope, and before she has time to open it, he’s on his way out of the door.

“See you later!”

This is just plain weird!

MaxChaos wouldn’t normally visit the reception desk at InfiniDash, he’d go straight round to one of the warehouses. He wouldn’t normally be on his own, he’d be part of a team. And he wouldn’t normally write things down, let alone write something in advance. He’s not particularly good at literacy.

Mystified, Conning looks at the envelope. She opens it. It’s a love letter!

From MaxChaos! Remarkably, within the space of just 37 words, it demonstrates all the adult, and juvenile, and infantile thoughts at work inside his chaotic head!

            Twinkle twinkle little Buttercup
            How I wonder when we’ll next meet up
            Wise and pretty and incredibly bright
            I was thinking that we might
            Go out somewhere nice to play
            But can that wait until pay day?

Overwhelmed, Conning doesn’t know if she should laugh or cry!

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Meanwhile, MaxChaos has been looking for an excuse to speak to Conning, the pretty girl with the long brown hair who works part time at InfiniDash, the shipbroker. If NutJob can secure a pretty girlfriend, with beautiful long brown hair, then MaxChaos thinks it can’t be that difficult. He’s been to InfiniDash a few times, to help with delivering provisions to ships, but he doesn’t yet fully understand the difference between a shipbroker and a shipping company.

Stepping inside the door at the main reception he sees Conning working the desk alone. Normally Mrs Moore works the desk. This looks like a perfect chance. MaxChaos is trying to play it cool. A clumsy sort of cool. A chaotic cool. The sort of thing that led to his nickname.

He steps up to the desk.

“Where’s your mum, I thought she’d be here?”

“She’s got a week off.”

“A weak cough? Will she be here tomorrow?”

“No, not a weak cough, a week off, she’s spending a week on Mannin.”

“She’s manning? She’s looking for a man?”

“Max, stop winding me up. You know what I mean, you’ve been to Mannin haven’t you?”

He places his right forearm and elbow on the counter and leans forward. Then he deliberately flutters his eyelids.

Conning has seen this sort of thing before. The singing duo gets a lot of unwanted attention from the boys in their informal fan club. Conning has learnt to nip this sort of thing in the bud.

“Don’t invade my personal space … you smell … of fish! You smell of fish. Don’t try to get flirty with me!”

“That’s what I wanted to talk about.”

“Fish?”

“Mannin! There’s a silver mine on Mannin isn’t there? And Zinc? What else is there, metal wise?”

“Oh, I don’t think we’ve been asked that before? You want to import metals? We just supply ships with what the crew needs, we don’t always know what their cargos are!”

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“Interesting character! And HayWire, who’s he?”

“Samuel Clark. Also known as HayWire. He’s eighteen years old with no police record. His parents both work in the tanning industry. At school he was both brilliant and awful. Excelling in some subjects and bottom of the class in others. He graduated two years ago.”

“Brilliant at what?”

“Maths, physics, engineering, mechanics. He’s apprenticed to Harrison Time Pieces, and apparently he’s a quick learner. He’s doing well. He lives at home with his parents, though from what I hear, family life is fraught. He seems to spend a lot of time at work, putting in extra hours when he doesn’t have to, and he’s trying to teach himself advanced skills. He’s experimenting with batteries and alternative energy sources.”

“He’s also keen on trying alternative materials like bone. Through family connections, he gets access to various bone and stuff from NickTheKnacker. HayWire is the one who studied the text books and worked out how to make hydrogen with limited resources. In his specialist field he’s incredibly intelligent, a savant! He prefers to be called HayWire, he’s proud of the name, fond childhood memories of something. I wouldn’t recommend calling him Samuel or Sam.”

“HayWire and MaxChaos are both friends with NutJob and Kristal.”

“Are they now?” remarks CandiCrush, “we need to get all of them in for a brainstorming session. No big plans, make them think this is a one off, because it might be a one off. However, if we can get an Inventors Club going on a Wednesday afternoon, we might all benefit from their regular involvement. Ted, find out more about these two explosives experts. If Toni says they’re sound we should be able to get security clearance for both of them? And get NutJob cleared too. Kristal’s on the system already.”

Corky returns.

CandiCrush smiles, “tea anyone?”

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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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