Back in Container-Town Mary took some quiet time, swinging back and forth in her favourite rocking-chair and puffing on her pipe as she tried to make some sense out of all that has been going on. First and foremost on her mind was Flint’s disappearance, worrying not only for what might be happening to her colleague and what further threats that might imply, but also because if it was in some way connected to their original arrival in this world then Mary herself might be at risk of being snatched-away. She regretted not having had the chance to compare notes with Flint and determine whether or not they both had come here from the same alternative reality. Unfortunately it seemed impossible to investigate Flint’s vanishing without some equivalent ability in time-control, and Mary made a mental note to try and locate someone with knowledge in that area.
Then there was the matter of the other Mary Anne MacCarty. Should she risk all on the assumption that the girl’s kidnapping was closely related to the stolen Nanites – and that pursuing one would lead her to the other? Time seemed of the essence in both cases, but clues to follow for either were few and confusing. Made more confusing still by the repeated circular links between Mallory Brooks/Chao, KessKorp and Inspector julia Cunningham… Suddenly Mary stopped rocking, struck by an idea. She dialled up Inspector Tolliver and asked if he could send her an image or two of the Archon Suit. He came up trumps and she compared them with the descriptions given of the “silver robotic figure” which kidnapped Mallory Brooks, and if it looked to be a possible match she then decided to re-visit Reading General Hospital as soon as possible and ask the staff there for a more positive ID.
Looking at the images on her phone, the Archon suit was less robotic and looked more like battle armour , blue rather than silver or metallic in colour and with its’ shoulder-mounted jet pack it was definitely not feminine in shape… Still, worth a visit. Wonder if Sam could draw Mallory’s image and see if the staff recognised that as well?
Tomorrow!
Meanwhile she sought out Tin-hat Tommy and asked whether he could come up with anything fairly credible about possible geographical locations for P.I.S.C.E.S, and possible meanings for “Magonia” in Scotland.
Having been asked to help, Tommy nodded for a moment and wandered off, head in his phone, muttering something about having to teach Mary how to use Google and then turned as he stated with his colourful Jamaican accent that “According tuh di Wiki Magonia di name of di cloud realm whence felonious aerial sailas did seh tuh ave cum, whateva dat means! Magonia also featured inna book call Passpor’ tuh Magonia ’bout modern UFO visitations an’ reports from antiquity of contact wid space beings.”
Seeing the look on Mary’s face, he grinned exposing a solid gold front tooth and a couple of missing teeth and muttered “gi’ me a day or two an’ a’ll see wha’ I can fin’.”
Having gathered what information she could she shared it and her thoughts with Akira and Young Sam, wondering if the latter might like to talk to Annie to see what could be found out about the background of Elaine Chao – did she really have a step-sister, and if so, what can be found out about her in turn?
Another quick call this time by Sam found only the ARC’s emergency team available on call, but they took the request and said that they would pass it to Annie when she came out of her room in the morning.
Mary also asked her colleagues if they thought it would be a good idea to have an extra container installed into the Container-Town complex, connecting their three current residential units but not otherwise accessible from outside. “Not so good a ‘secret base’ as Flint’s back room, but better than nothing – somewhere we can meet and talk in private without anyone knowing.”
She went for a walk outside. Container Town was becoming harder and harder to keep secret. Already containers were stacked three (and in places, five) levels high and window boxes and homemade verandas had begun to appear. The fact that so many of the residents had taken to painting their ‘homes’ in lurid colours rescued from the Recycling Centre probably didn’t help. It did give a sense of belonging to the residents and several (like Bertha and Albert) were sharing their container homes.
The storage yard that had become Container Town was full. Young Sam’s container backed onto hers but there was room for another container running at a 90 degree angle to both and Akira’s was above and she was sure Sam and he could help reposition it though Akira’s ‘complaints’ about his accommodation meant he might not be there for long. She smiled. For a ‘monk’, he seemed remarkably insistent on a decent living standard and proper beds! She wandered over to where the new container, if everyone agreed, would be sited. It would need to be a small one as the fence that separated the disused scrap yard next door from them wouldn’t allow a full size unit and would place it over the…? Of course!
The scrapyard so beloved of Albert and his various alternative power schemes!!!
She quickly ran back and grabbed Jeeves. “What is happening about the scrapyard next door? It hasn’t been open for weeks…” Jeeves stopped his internal argument and turned to focus on Mary, ignoring the several “voices “only he could hear. “Ah, Maa’m I believe it’s up for sale. Ivan’s death left it to his son who isn’t interested in it as a business. Likely be sold for housing which will be the end of container town as neighbours building a house on the land will not want us next door. Why?”
“Can you find out the asking price? It wouldn’t be suitable to expand onto or build on because the land is contaminated with too many years of unknown chemicals pouring into the ground and of course the foundations…” Jeeves looks askingly at her. “Oh, I found out a few weeks ago that before this was a storage yard this used to be the site of a large factory that burnt down in the first World War. When it came time to reuse the land they just covered over the basement and foundations. They’re still beneath us. Would cost a fortune to properly fill them in…”
Mary smiled, “Can you check the asking price for me please?”
Next she picked up a torch and headed for the scrapyard. Other than the hut (with its existing electricity connection let’s not forget that) it was filled to capacity with old vehicles, shipping containers (that’s where they had purchased their ones from originally) and scrap metal. She walked to Ivan’s side of the fence, pulled a car door out of the way to reveal a deep crack in the ground. Before she misted she turned off her torch and wondered why it had taken her so long to realise that small objects she held could be turned to mist when she became insubstantial? They couldn’t work when she was in that state but they travelled with her. Who knows, maybe with practice she could do the same to other people or even larger objects eventually?
She misted through the crack and seconds later she found herself in a large empty basement space. Resubstantiating, with her torch turned back on she looked around. As she thought, the basement and foundations were solid and ran beneath both the junk yard and Container Town, seemed substantial and was separated into a number of rooms or chambers. If they also owned the yard and were to place a full size container behind Sam and Mary’s container then it would cover the entrance she’d found, possibly even replace Ivan’s old shack. There was even space for a hangar if they ever got hold of a grav-vehicle and could disguise the entrance amongst the scrapped cars…
Her mind full of possibilities, Mary knew she needed to talk to the others. Tomorrow she thought as she realised the time.
Night fell and Sam made an excuse to retire to his Container. The frustration of not knowing how to find Chrono had taken its toll and after checking the dreamcatcher he fell into a fitful sleep.
Tossing and turning eventually gave way to sleep and with sleep came the nightmare…
Sam lay on a hospital bed in a cell within a cave-like chamber. A cell with thick bars and strange archaic symbols carved into the walls and on the ground. Beside the bed was a drip containing a purple semi-transparent fluid that had been in his right arm. He looked down and saw his bruised arm had started to turn red and scab over. The needle had somehow come loose and was bleeding its purple concoction into the bedding. His tossing and turning must have torn the needle loose but what had it been pumping into his veins? Dozy, his face felt bruised and battered and he reached up and felt his now elongated face… He remembered being with Tiamente earlier that day in his cave as he thought through his training and instruction at the creatures feet earlier that day.
Then he heard Tiamente’s voice deep in his mind; “ah, young wyrmling, beware the quiet man, beware his control. Fight him, promise me you’ll fight!”
As the voice spoke in his mind he got the image in his mind of the dragon – bound in stone so ancient yet that image was somehow twisted in with a cavern full of computers and projectors erected around a bed fitted with bonds and shackles. Where did that image come from..? In his mind he briefly saw a demented young woman with unruly red hair giggling while standing with a be-suited man in the shadows as someone (him?) screamed in agony… Then he was back in Tiamente’s cave again learning how to use his powers to serve the great Dragon… Wha..?
His thoughts are disrupted as two of the guards – both dressed identical to the red-eyed hunter from his earlier dream walked to his cell…
They were talking together and though he didn’t understand the words the sounds were seared onto his mind… “Cât de mult înainte de a fi gata? Fata asta ma sperie mai mult decât acești nemernici săraci!” The other replied ”Mai mult decât aceste șase din cauza?” The first guard(?) nodded and replied ” Da, am auzit Maestrul spune că el se așteaptă la o furtuna vie … Asta va fi ceva pentru a vedea! La naiba! acesta este treaz!” His voice rose as he suddenly pointed at Sam, ” El este treaz! dracu ‘, împușcă-l, să-l ameți înainte ca maestrul devine conștient de eșecurile noastre! Împușcă-l!”
Suddenly the second guard pulled out some form of gun which he aimed at Sam in the bed and he felt his body spasm in complete and utter agony…
Sam jerked awake. What did all that mean? He quickly looked over at the Dreamcatcher. Again nothing had changed as far as its aura was concerned… The guards words, if not their meaning seared on his mind. What did all these weird dreams actually mean?
Determined not to disturb the others again he lay back down and this time sleep came without incident…
An excited Annie was the first to contact them back (waking up a moody and sleep-deprived Young Sam in the process) and she quickly set to work whilst talking incessantly to Sam.
She laughed; a lovely sound. “That’s brilliant! How..?” Wha..? “Ok, so according to Birth records, Facebook and half a dozen photo sites, Elaine Chao has a half-sister called Mallory who she has a love-hate relationship with. Interesting, there are no photos of them together and all the photos of Mel? Mal? Ah, Mallory are either of a young girl too young to properly identify or are so badly shot that they cannot be used to positively ID them. Now this is the brilliant part! It’s all fake… Brilliant forgeries and posts but according to the server time-stamps it was all planted yesterday morning about 2:30 am. The whole life history was inserted onto the internet in less than a 3 second window… Hundreds of records updated almost at the same time. Either someone planned this meticulously weeks in advance or they’re a hacking genius.”
She smiled, “They pasted her photo onto other bodies for some reason and manipulated the images to make them less identifiable but they made a mistake and I can reverse-engineer what they did. I’m sending you a headshot, looks as though she was lying in a bed when it was taken going by the hair… Is this your Mallory?”
Sam looked at his tablet and starring back at him was the slightly blurred face of the girl with blue streaked hair he had met the day before. This may help with Reading Hospital!
Thanking her profusely and promising to give her a call soon, he sent the photo to Mary’s phone.
An hour later, Mary was around at Tin-hat Tommy’s trying to see if he’d found out anything. He was still half-asleep and muttering something about the “Hacktivist Commune” and how “Magonia” was possibly, no, probably linked to aliens secretly hiding out on Earth; greys most likely or?. “Fishes swimmin’ both ways, somehow linked to de Dagon’s fro’ Sirius no doubt, despite the Ziru Sirka sayin’ dey don’ exist…”
“Tommy what does that actually mean?”
“Oh, Magonia must be an island off de coast of Scotlan’, away fro’ the Hebrides an’ away fro’ de public eye. A secr’t undergroun’ base on a deserted island no doubt… No doubt in deed. Dere are supplies flow’ out fro’ Ullapool in unmarked Black military grav vehicles staffed b’ men in black, every two weeks towards Benbecula in Scotland’s Outer Hebrides but dey carry on withou’ landin’, straight out to sea. Sorry dat’s all I could find… I’ll keep searchin’ but now go away an’ let me sleep… And you owe me a bottle o’ rum, good rum at dat for dis. Sirius definitely, alien fish people must be…”
***
Translation from Carpathian:
Cât de mult înainte de a fi gata? Fata asta ma sperie mai mult decât acești nemernici săraci!
<< How long before you are ready? That girl scares me more than these poor bastards! >>
Mai mult decât aceste șase din cauza?
<< (Will) there (be) more than these six? >>
Da, am auzit Maestrul spune că el se așteaptă la o furtuna vie … Asta va fi ceva pentru a vedea! La naiba! acesta este treaz!
<< Yes, I heard the Master say he expects a living storm… That will be something to see! Damn! He is awake! >>
El este treaz! dracu ‘, împușcă-l, să-l ameți înainte ca maestrul devine conștient de eșecurile noastre! Împușcă-l!
<< He IS awake! Hell, shoot him, stun him before the master becomes aware of our failure! Shoot him! >>
Superhero Adventures, UK Style 