Into the Crust Episode 1x01

Welcome to a brand new series.  This time, instead of posting a chapter every week, there will be a large episode for each instalment.  However, this means that episodes may not happen on a weekly basis.

At the top will be a table of contents with links to each scene for easier reading (update: thanks to my awful HTML skills, the links in the table of contents aren't currently working but should be up eventually):

Scenes:

Viridian

Meet the Book Keeper

Brother Lost

Enigmas United

To Leave the City

Climbing the Chains

Alliance

Viridian

Something had gone wrong with the memory upload process and the subject rose from the table like the living dead. The machines above the subject could only look on with confusion and fear as it ripped through the restraints and bounded for the window.

The subject called herself Viridian, and that was the sum total of what she knew. The artificial memories were still rearranging themselves as she leapt through the window, a bad move as she soon realised, though for the wrong reason. The glass was no effort to smash through, for her wide frame was that of a mechanical skeleton twice as tall as a human, but on the other side was the empty space under the sky-island of her captors.

During her lengthy free fall the implanted data made its way to the forefront of her mind. This body-vehicle of hers, like an agile, long-legged tortoise, was designed for humans to use in exploration and excavation. Viridian was unsure if she too was human, but the description seemed adequate while she couldn't prove anything. The air continued to rush past her – these were all electronic signals that gave the complete sensory package to the mechanical skeleton's user. Technology like this originated in a place called the Free City, so named because it occupied a large island that was detached and free to travel.

Oh yes, the data seemed to finish assessing her knowledge, the world was comprised of chunks of land that floated in the sky, most of which were connected by gigantic and very old chains. Viridian looked beneath her to see one of these chunks rising to meet her.

Out of instinct she pointed her legs downwards. Fire blasted from the feet of the vehicle, no, from her feet, she thought. The impact was still heavy, making a decent impression on the ground and momentarily disorienting her, but again instinct took control and Viridian stood up to look where she had come from.

The Free City's crust blocked the sun from above her. Small lights were growing larger, an indicator in her vision saying that they were possible hostile forces, and a slider on the top of her metal “body” retracted to allow a gas-cannon through. The dark weapon automatically blasted the floating lights into a million pieces and a blaring horn sounded in the sky before the Free City slowly moved away like a blimp changing course.

On the surface of the island, the citizens had no knowledge of what had transpired below. Besides, there was trading to be done to the north, so it was time to move on.

Meet the Book Keeper

Farther to the west, Irfan Red was approaching the police station in Cumulus, a city whose defence field was unrivalled across the world. The rationale the government had for the defence field varied but they tended to give the impression that they were hiding from what was outside.

Irfan was perennially concerned that one day Cumulus's population would become an oppressed mass under a totalitarian regime, unfortunately there was not much he could do about it. On the upside, actual liberty had not this far been infringed upon (relatively speaking, since the control of information and freedom is a spectrum), and Irfan was optimistic of City Web Service's move into managing most of the city's day-to-day activity. Irfan was already a librarian when he inherited an old book shop, and now he sold big books, small books, illustrated, virtual and semi-virtual. He had come to be known as the book keeper, these days living off the unsteady income of high interest collectors, for whom he'd part with the rarer tomes. His own reserved nature and the slow, introverted work of the shop had kept him clean and mostly unnoticed by the strict authorities.

His younger brother Idris was the complete opposite. The reason that Irfan was now entering the police station was the latest in a string of arrests. A familiar face greeted the book keeper's arrival.

'Hey there Mr Red. Come to pick up your brother again.' There was no question in Sergeant Rools's voice.

'Afraid so. What has he done this time?'

'That's classified,' the sergeant said. 'I'd tell you if they told me anyway.'

The two of them slipped into routine, Rools unlocked the hall to the cells and Irfan trudged towards what was definitely his brother's cell, he'd been put in it so many times.

Idris was sitting in the middle of the small space with his legs crossed, long brown hair draped on his shoulders. He didn't even open his eyes.

'What is it?' the book keeper said.

'Parking ticket, Irfan.'

Even Rools felt the emotion behind such a blatant lie. What the sergeant didn't know was that Idris never called his brother by his real name unless there were so many details that a lie made it easier to cope with. Irfan's handle on this mental tick had made the occasional poker match a breeze but the book keeper wondered if Idris knew it himself.

The bars slid back and Idris stood up.

'Sergeant,' he said, 'I hope you let your superiors know that I am disappointed in being held for so trivial an offence. However, I understand that they must be vigilant against terrorists who could have been in my situation.'

'Don't worry, Mr Red,' Rools said. 'As long as you don't do it again, whatever you really did.'

Brother Lost

Almost a month later, Irfan was marking off his calendar before closing up shop. He noticed that it was the longest yet between calls from his brother and felt guilty that he had no idea what his brother had been doing since the last. Irfan placed two fingers on his webdesk and wound them clockwise to get the ailing machine's attention. The surface lit up in a calm blue colour.

'Contact details for Idris Red.'

The surname Red wasn't entirely uncommon but the desk needed only to display one contact. The book keeper dialled the number for voice chat and wandered over to his favourite scene, the window at the back of the shop.

Ring ring. Through the window, Irfan's shop had one of the best views in the city. Beyond the various vertical levels and elevated paths you could glimpse the edge of the island. The sun had begun to make its way under the rocky cliff edge, shining delectable reds and oranges through the defence field. On the other side were floating helium creatures and moss colonies. Special species of birds made their homes in those bottomless forests, from where they swooped out to hunt on land. Soon they would be joined by the bats, whose caves at the very bottom of the island gave Irfan the shivers, hanging out over the empty space.

Ring ring. The call was picked up by a dejected sounding woman.

'Hullo?'

'Is this where I can speak to Idris Red?' the book keeper said, still looking out at the sunset.

'I'm afraid he's... disappeared,' the woman said. 'May I ask who I am speaking to?'

Irfan finally said, 'I'm the bookworm brother.'

'Oh. I think you might want to come in, Irfan. You can call me Tricia, we should talk about this in person.'

Tricia hung up quickly. Irfan couldn't object.

Enigmas United

The building that Idris's web profile led to was a commercial block on the bottom level of Cumulus. Specifically, the room of the address was towards the back and down a flight of stairs. With the upper levels looming right over their heads, landlords on the bottom of the city had long since begun digging into the crust of their island in the air.

A door no different from those at the front of the hall was covered in sheets of paper – the topmost layer declaring Problem Solvers, and jutting out underneath was the word United. Out of curiosity, the book keeper lifted up the first layer. The United poster had a large symbol on it, one that he did not know the meaning of but had seen around the city in alleys where public service rarely tread. It was a stylised fist, superimposed over which was a red circle with a line through it.

'United,' he thought aloud. Suddenly the door was wrenched open by a dark haired woman whose complexion told Irfan that she was from another land, from before the city had withdrawn behind the defence field.

'Can I help you – by the clouds, you're just like him!'

'Wrong,' he said. 'I have lighter hair. Tricia I presume?'

'Yes. Come in.'

The book keeper followed her into the foyer. The place was organised as any other business in these parts, with a secretary's webdesk and web portals attached to the chairs that lined the front corners.

'What do you and my brother do here?'

Tricia looked up and down the corridor before carefully closing the door.

'What we do is immaterial,' she said. 'Take a seat. You must understand that your brother was a very important part of the team.'

Irfan sat in the corner. 'I obviously don't understand anything. How long has he been working here?'

'We aren't able to divulge that sort of information,' Tricia said.

'I think I deserve some context before you explain to me what in the sky is going on.'

'Then let me finish!' Tricia's eyes were ragged. 'I'm sorry, but this is a bad time for anybody to screw up, least of all me.' She sat in the chair next to his. 'You are going to have to take it on good faith that I'm not trying to deceive you.'

'Perfect. I guess this means you want something from me?'

'Idris has to be in trouble if he is missing at this point.'

'What can I possibly do to help?' the book keeper said.

Tricia glanced away from him.

'You are his family, so you have to know his codename.'

A birthright codename was something that everyone in the city possessed – a password that a citizen would use to access any and all electronic services in Cumulus. Someone who knew your codename could effectively locate and control you, so you only ever gave it to those you trusted.

'Are you so sure he is still in the city?'

'No,' Tricia said. 'But if you don't find him, at least we will know for certain that he's gone.'

Now it was Irfan's turn to look away. 'Idris wouldn't let anything stop him if he's trying to leave the city. If I even had an idea...'

Something in Tricia broke the surface of her secrecy.

'His contract was to an arm of City Web Service, that's why we need you to go to Missing Persons. I can't tell you any more than that for client confidentiality. If you were to prove that your brother isn't within the field, they'd be obliged to help you find out where he's gone.'

Irfan stood up. 'This doesn't make any sense. Surely CWS would have been the first to notice him go missing.'

Tricia's face was blank. 'I'm asking you to find out where he is. I can't tell you any of the dozen reasons why we think he's gone, he's just gone.'

'Whatever operation you people are running here, it isn't worth my time.' The book keeper stormed to the door. 'I am going to find Idris, and he will tell me what's going on.'

To Leave the City

The following morning, the book keeper found himself at the base of the huge dome that occupied the centre of the city. CWS was an independent contractor, whose technology permeated the city to the extent that they outmatched the government as the power in Cumulus. The main entrance towered over Web Park with a clean marble and chrome aesthetic, only slightly marred by the banners that proudly proclaimed the Hope Legion's involvement in funding CWS. Inside was a bright and airy space that contrasted sharply with the cramped alleys of the city around it. The book keeper made a beeline for the main desk, which was also draped in Hope Legion symbols like the fountain pen and the brain.

'Hello, I am –'

'Ah, my friend!' came a voice from behind him. A young man with a goatee and ponytail grabbed the book keeper with forceful amiability and steered him away from the clerk.

'Am I right in understanding you are Irfan Red?' whispered the man.

'Yes but I don't –'

'Play along until we get to the elevator,' the man said.

He continued to steer Irfan until they reached the far left hand wall.

'Put your index and middle fingers to the right of the elevator buttons,' said the man.

The book keeper's fingers were suddenly the epicentres for blue patterns erupting in-between the buttons and the elevator. The elevator doors opened.

'Okay, this is a special order transport,' the man said as they walked in. 'Now we can speak freely.'

The elevator moved off downwards.

'Who are you? Why did you do this?'

'I am an associate of your brother's.' The man took a black rectangle from his pocket. 'I assume he told you what this is?'

'No!' Irfan said. 'Where are you taking me?'

'To leave the city of course. Don't you want to follow your brother?'

'I came here to search for him. Are you telling me he's gone?'

'Yes, that's why we need you.' The man remained calm, pushing the black rectangle into the book keeper's hands. 'Your brother was in the middle of a very important project before he left, and we can't track him accurately from behind the defence field.'

'I suppose you contacted Tricia about this.'

'Who is Tricia?'

'Oh, ah,' the book keeper stuttered, 'I don't actually know. I guess she isn't important.'

The elevator slowed to a stop and the man grabbed Irfan's shoulder.

'Let's keep moving. If you really don't know, it may take longer for you to understand the concept.'

The man with the ponytail lead the book keeper down a straight hallway, then turned left into a much larger hallway with a glass barrier at the end. Filling the width of it were two grey metal constructions. On the floor underneath were stepladders.

'These are mechanical exoskeletons,' said the man. 'We call them meskal for short.'

Irfan, having no knowledge of the beverage that shared its name with these machines, was simply befuddled.

You'll be using that mark 4.' The man pointed to the one on the left.

'What are you talking about?'

'They're exploratory vehicles!' the man said. 'Since going beyond the field unprotected will get you contaminated, you bring a bit of the field with you! Climb into it quickly. The longer we hang here, the less time your brother has.'

'And he took one of these things out there too?'

'Yes, now get a move on! The meskal has computer equipment on board that will help you track Idris.'

The book keeper walked towards the hulking synthetic beast. The stepladder gave him enough height to see what was on the inside of the main carapace, but before he had taken it in, vacuum cables and bands had snapped at his arms and legs.

'Help!' he said as the meskal dragged him stiffly into its belly.

'Forgot to tell you the mark 4's a bit huggy!' said the ponytail man. Irfan tried to shout out again but the base of the machine had closed with a shup and all around him was darkness. Pinprick pains on almost every part of his body kept him from moving.

A moment later though, the world lit up again.

'What is this?'

The ponytail man's meskal had walked in front of him.

'Don't worry if you feel a bit groggy, it can take a few minutes to adjust.' The voice came straight from the front of the machine like a web speaker, which was slightly creepy when you realised a human was talking. 'Race you to the end?'

'The end of what? It's a solid wall!'

Irfan tried to move. He too was on all fours. The meskal it seemed was feeding sensor data directly to his body. For the moment he would be the machine.

'Do as I do,' the ponytail man said. 'The intersection has not yet begun.'

'What?' Irfan shouted as the ponytail man ran to the far end.

'I said, “do as I do, it's not that difficult”!' he repeated.

'I'll try,' he said. The book keeper ran at full pelt, faster than he could run regularly, down the long hallway.

'Still looks pretty solid to me!'

The meskal ahead of him vanished. Irfan tried without luck to slow down, and then he tried to orient himself falling in empty space, but the meskal smacked into the earth before he could straighten all four legs.

When it became apparent that he had not died, Irfan stood up. He was in a huge empty cave, deep beneath the surface and the city. Light shone in through the gaping mouth that looked out onto clear blue sky.

'Sort of a training ground,' he heard the voice of ponytail man say. 'You can get onto the chains from here, too.'

To either side Irfan could see other meskal pilots lumbering around.

'The defence field stops at the end of the corridor we just left,' ponytail man continued. 'From here on, it's stay in your mech or you don't go home.'

'What do you expect me to do with this thing?'

'That's the easy part. Use your brother's codename and bring him back safely.'

'And the hard part?'

'To follow Idris you need to go out into the wide world. The hard part's climbing the chains.'

Climbing the Chains

At the edge of the training cave there was an empty drop to scare the book keeper witless with nothing but air and clouds beneath him.

'You're going to have to upload your brother's codename using the neural link,' said the man with the ponytail. 'From here on, you're on your own.'

'If you aren't coming with me, how will I know what to do?' The meskal shivered in sync with Irfan's vertigo.

'He can't have gotten far,' said the man. 'Use your instincts, the mech should do the rest.'

Without warning bits of information exploded into Irfan's vision.

'I've adjusted your virtual vision,' the man said. The book keeper looked at the other meskal and a blue signal appeared, reading “Friendly”. He thought of his brother's codename and notifications popped up, pointing to his right. In the top corner of his sight was a small map that showed a moving dot to the east.

The man with the ponytail pointed behind Irfan. The monolithic chain that spread out from Cumulus, one of several on the island, would take him south east and closer to Idris. In the distance the book keeper saw the next island, an upside down triangle in the air and one of many in the region.

He walked to where the metallic link broke out from the rock beneath him. Each section was several times the size of the mech and still smooth after many centuries. At the bottom of the virtual display was a prompt: Operate Grip. Standing on the chain itself, he lifted his front left leg over the air and three tendrils automatically latched to the link.

'This could be really dangerous!' he said.

'Just remember to follow your map.'

Right, the map, Irfan thought. He moved his right front leg closer, which also stretched out tendrils to grip the link. You would think they could track their own technology, even without Idris's codename.

Continuing to quiver, the book keeper finally got all of his legs onto the chain whilst trying not to look down.

Just keep moving along. Before you know it you will be on solid ground.

Beneath his subconscious a very human element was saying, but there's no solid ground. There'll always be air beneath your feet.

When he felt like he had taken maybe another half-dozen steps, Irfan turned his head back along the chain. Already he was far from the city, a chunky brown blob with a barely visible bulge representing the defence field. The man with the ponytail had mentioned contamination, something that Irfan had never considered. He wondered how he would eat out here if CWS weren't going to let him back in after exposure. Irfan continued down the chain to the rocky face ahead where the grip function of the meskal assisted his ascent.

On the surface was a thick and undulating woodland, with shrubbery that grew over the edge of the island. The book keeper had only ever seen pictures of country like this – there was not much in the way of large animal but in the canopy birds flitted about, chatting with each other. Occasionally his large frame would brush too close to a tree causing a cacophony of branch crashes. Even so, for no other choice he continued through the forest.

Eventually the map in the corner of his vision spontaneously shifted to his own position, highlighting a set of contours nearby. Along with the new direction it indicated, an overlay told him that the exoskeleton needed coolant. The highlighted location was a small, clear pool. Irfan approached it, unsure of what to do next when his meskal's head dipped to the surface and gave him the sensation of drinking. The machine presumably fed some to his human body as well.

'Hostile activity!' the meskal's security declared. Out of a bush walked a young boy.

'Who're you than?' the boy said nonchalantly as he stooped to fill a bucket of water.

'Terminate hostiles!' the meskal continued. Irfan could feel the top of his mechanical body open as the gas-cannon emerged to target the frightened boy.

'Move!' the book keeper yelled. Something knocked into him and destabilised the cannon which fired upwards through the treetops. Irfan's visual feed went dark and his legs were tied together.

Alliance

After being dragged over rock and bramble, luckily not painful to the metal skin of the mech, Irfan felt himself being sat upright. His apparent captor no longer holding him, he tried in vain to struggle against the bindings. The map was still visible in the corner of his sight but all else was black until the obstruction was pulled from his head. The figure in front of him was that of another meskal with green-blue splashes on its carapace.

'What were you doing?' a female voice said from its speaker. In front of her the electronic overlay said “Friendly – Unknown Agent”.

'The machine was about to fire on...'

'Quiet!' his captor said. 'It was a rhetorical question.'

The other mech went behind him and there was a sensation not unlike a large static shock.

'There,' the woman voice said. The head came back into view. 'Without a cannon you won't be quite as dangerous.'

'Who are you?' Irfan said. He looked around at where he was, a hollow in the rock of some hill – not quite a cave but out of the sun.

'My name is probably Viridian,' said the woman.

'Thanks for stopping me from hurting that kid.'

'Hurt?' Viridian grunted. 'That thing on your back would have damn near obliterated him.'

'Wait, what do you mean probably Viridian?' She began to make disapproving noises while he spoke. 'And why would I consider that boy a hostile? What is going on out here?'

Viridian slapped him with a front leg, somehow sending pain into the book keeper's nerves.

'Questions that can be answered later. Right now you need to tell me where you come from, how you got this mech and whether you know about the Hope Legion.'

He told her his name and the story of how he had come to be here.

'As for the Hope Legion,' Irfan continued, 'aren't they an independent interest group from decades ago?'

'I don't know. They mean nothing to me, and yet...' she trailed off.

'I just want to continue east, find my brother and get home.'

'Good luck making it past the other side,' said Viridian. She went to the entrance of the hollow.

'What's on the other side?' the book keeper tried to stand up and found his legs still tied.

Viridian's voice sounded like she had cracked open a smile.

'Wow. You're even worse than me.' She extended one leg to untie the bonds on his. When he moved to stand up, she awkwardly straddled him.

'Tell you what, Irfan,' she said. 'I suspect your brother knows more than either of us or he wouldn't be out here. Let's make a deal – you need to find him, and I need to find out if I'm human under this shell or just some stupid experiment.'

'That would be the “probably” part?' he said.

'Be careful, be really careful and consider whether you want me to explain.' After several seconds of silence, Viridian got back on all fours and walked into the sunlight.

'Are you coming?'

End of Episode 1.

Episode 2 Teaser: the continued journey of Viridian and the book keeper into the east, with sky nomads and a secret quarry.

Questions & Answers

For those of you who haven't had the chance to finish "In Defence of the Realm", feel free to scroll down the page and read the final posts.

Once you have read the final chapter, this is a chance to comment on what you liked, what you hated, whether you would like to see more - and most importantly if you have urgent questions for me to answer.

Throughout the course of writing the series I added and removed parts of the back-stories of characters, developed a geography of the world and cut out some parts to fit the chapters on the page each week, so there are probably points that readers may want me to clear up.

I will try my best to answer all the questions (within reason) and incorporate criticism into my next series.  I hope that everyone has enjoyed "In Defence of the Realm" as much as I enjoyed making it.

IDotR Finale Part 3/3 - The End, For Now

<< Previous

'Land-Regent, sir? Dastardly Medieval is here to see you.'

'Show him in, Waory. He's been very useful, hasn't he?'

Waory stopped at the door. 'Yes, you already said that, sir.'

'Pity he has no true allegiances around here. Plenty of people could be wanting his services.'

'You have a point, sir.'

'Before you come back in, Waory, I would like you to visit the library and look for a book on the Troll Underworld. Can you do that?'

'Certainly, Land-Regent.'

The clerk showed the freelancer inside where the Land-Regent sat impatiently on his dilapidated chair.

'Sirus!' said Dastardly.

'I thought I told you not to call me by name,' said the Regent.

'There was a time when we were friends, sir. Congratulations on getting the top gig anyway.'

'Mr Medieval,' the Regent continued, 'I wanted to do this informally but I realised that you and I on first name terms just can't work right now. In any case, would you join me for a drink?'

'This early in the morning?'

'I am the ruler for the moment, I can do as I please. Besides, you must be terribly hungry, thirsty and tired from the past twenty four hours.'

Dastardly did feel terrible. 'Alright. Then I'm going back to the apartment to sleep the rest of the day.'

'You'll get your rest,' the Regent said. He lead the freelancer to a balcony at the back of the throne. From here they could see the upper class portion of the city that ambled along the wharf. Dastardly took a seat at a small wooden table where two goblets had been placed. The Land-Regent produced a carafe and poured the wine into each cup himself before sitting across from Dastardly. The drink would make him thirstier, he knew, but the freelancer took a small sip anyway.

'You surprised me, Medieval,' said the Land-Regent. 'You are much more resourceful than I could have imagined.'

'I aim to serve,' the freelancer said, taking another sip. 'Also, now I don't owe you a thing.'

'Precisely my point. Any potential enemies of my domain will be sad to hear that you died out on a mission in defence of the realm.'

'I didn't die. I'm sitting right here.'

---

At the same time, Waory was combing the T shelf in the library.

Such an extensive collection, but no mention of trolls, he thought. A light switched on in the clerk's mind.

Pity he has no true allegiances around here? The Regent would want anyone as helpful as Dastardly to be stuck under his thumb. Oh no.

Waory raced out of the building past someone in knight's armour and up the steps into the antechamber. He burst through the doors of the throne room and shouted, 'DON'T DRINK THE WINE!'

He reached the Land-Regent and Dastardly sitting at the table on the balcony.

'Why shouldn't I drink the wine?'

'Don't worry, Mr Medieval. The poison works quick. It will be over soon.'

The Regent turned to his clerk.

'You know, Waory, had you been just a tad earlier, you would be dead too. And possibly fired.'

Dastardly died.  But not for the last time.

FIN.

Questions and Answers >>

IDotR Finale Part 2/3 - A Promise of Meeting Again

<< Previous

The airship sailed slowly over the plains towards the capital city.

'And this man Siy would have used the mother as a weapon?'

'Yes, sir.'

Dastardly was explaining the entire situation over the communication stone when the Land-Regent's voice faltered.

'Medieval, normally I would voice my doubts since I have only your word for what happened, but there are farmers who say that large groups of ogres, men, sprites and who knows what else are seeking shelter in our lands for the time being. Some with tales about a gigantic mechanical spider.'

'Why would I lie to you, sir?'

'I don't know. You found out about the congress, that's for sure, so I suppose we're even.'

'Did I thank you for what you did in the first place?'

'Yes, Dastardly, several times. You have been very useful, and I would like to see you in the audience chamber as soon as you can get here.'

'Yes, Sirus sir.'

The freelancer released the rune on the stone and the Shard stopped showing the ruler's face. No one was currently watching the Shard. Plen T. was nursing the cuts on his hand from grabbing the glass's edges and Adrian was watching Dastardly.

'You've got too many secrets, Dastardly, if that is your real name, but you did help me with my mission and I won't forget this strange series of events any time soon.'

Dastardly tried to change the subject like he had in the cave.

'A very interesting morning. We reunited a mother and child, so at least something came good of it.'

'Maybe,' the knight said. 'I will have to help the King find a new home for my people. I am starting to wonder if Siy moved the City in the first place, just to find the other imprints.'

'At least no one was hurt, not that we know.'

'No casualties.'

'Except Siy,' Dastardly said. 'If he didn't die immediately from the fall, the injuries would have finished him off.'

'Though I wouldn't wish death for the living,' said Adrian, 'I must say that I hope never to see that one again.'

'Should I spoil the ending?' the female voice returned to the freelancer's ears. Death was standing behind him. 'I won't tell you what happened to the kobom. I've more important things to do.'

Dastardly wished he had left the airship earlier. 'Am I again on the brink of death?'

'I won't tell you that either,' she said, walking up to him. Her feet didn't appear to make contact with the deck.

'Where's your scythe?'

'Why must you fear me, Dastardly? What do you have that's worth living for?'

He looked at the knight and the gnome, slowed down to the point that they were almost statues. 'I think I can continue to make a difference, for Helen.'

'I am here, Mr Medieval, to offer you a chance to do just that.' Death wandered about. 'There is a prophecy that you and Adrian, amongst others, will eventually fight the return of the Wizard.'

'You mean I'll have to meet with Adrian again?'

'Of course. First, however, you will help us to reunite the fallen races who didn't answer the call to congress.'

'Help you. Meaning, Death and – ?'

'The other forces. Father Time is my CEO, and I have a new assistant called Taxes.'

'That's original,' he scoffed. 'Look, will you give me the time to think about it?'

'Would if I could,' she said, and vanished.

'What was that about?' Adrian asked him when time sped up again. 'You were staring at empty space.'

'Thinking about a new friend I've made,' Dastardly said. Plen joined them by the wheel.

'Good to see you've gotten the hang of steering,' he said. 'We're just about over the city now, so I'll kindly ask you both to get the heck off my ship.'

'Your ship?'

'Yes, my ship, you know. I could always just take those boots of yours, like you said. I see you've lost the sword.'

'Alright, Plen.' Dastardly changed tone. 'What do you plan on doing with it now?'

'I think I'll go and pick up Jowno from the deep road. Knowing him, if the whole place caved in he'd still be sitting there. Then we'll go back to the Mercenaries' Guild. With a ship like this we could make a fortune.'

'I'll be sure to drop in a message next time I pass through the river town,' said Dastardly.

There was a tall set of steps in front of the Regent's palace. Plen lowered the airship down where the knight and the freelancer climbed out.

'See you around, Sir Adrian of the Clockwork City. Farewell, Dastardly Medieval.'

The ship sailed away to the south east, beyond the port and over the sea. Adrian extended his right arm.

'Pleasure doing business with you, Medieval. I hope for both our sakes that the next time we meet is under less stressful circumstances.'

'I wouldn't count on it,' the freelancer said. 'But we can savour the peace we have while it lasts.'

They shook hands, and the knight descended into the street below while Dastardly went up towards the throne room.

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IDotR Finale Part 1/3 - Plen T. of Special Effects

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'You're lucky that your man had this glass doohickey installed,' said Plen, pointing behind the wheel at something on a small chest. 'As soon as the tower started moving, it showed me you and your mate were in trouble.'

The device was a shard of glass standing upright on a metal plate. The glass stood on its sharpest corner, seeming to defy gravity, and around its base were the letters “d'Aseere”.

'No one is to look in this glass,' said Dastardly. 'I think this is the Shard that sent Siy insane.'

The airship pulled back from the rising creature, the knight and the gnome were watching the scene. The tower was nearly twice as high in the air, standing on top of the carapace of the mother City.  People were running for the deep road entrance or any other way they could escape the valley.

'The Clockwork City is nowhere near as big as that thing!' said Adrian.

The bulk of the mother City was a circular body that the Turretial grew straight out of like a giraffe's neck. While the Clockwork City's body was open to the elements, this was domed over with a glass look-alike. Inside the hemispherical enclosure were hints of activity, both the mechanical, with moving gears that were the size of buildings, and the organic, the suggestion that trees and strange kinds of animals were kept within the dome.

Beneath the body were four legs that jutted out like a spider. Each had hundreds of moving parts, all to keep the great mother City slowly climbing out of the ground and over the valley wall.

'What is it doing? You stopped the madman!' said Plen.

'It's an animal,' said Adrian. 'Who can guess?'

Dastardly pointed behind them. 'Look over the Pan!'

Across the featureless flats was the Clockwork City, walking its spidery lumber towards Hox.

'The mother and the child are going to meet on the Pan,' said Dastardly. 'We need to warn people not to get up there. Adrian, would all of the Kings and leaders have brought their communication stones with them?'

'I know our King certainly did,' said the knight. 'We need to find Siy's.'

'There are drawers in the chest,' Plen said. They pulled at them and tipped the contents out on the deck.

'Here it is,' said Adrian. He held up a rock. It was just a rock, except for two runes scratched into it. He handed it to Dastardly.

'I was expecting more than this,' said the freelancer.

'They would have been made after the loss of the congress,' said Adrian. 'The symbols are what holds the power. Put your thumb on the swirly one and think of everyone.'

Dastardly did so. 'Anybody who can hear me down there! Spread the word, go anywhere but the Pan, just get away from Hox!'

The three adventurers watched as the mother and child came closer. Little groups of people started running south.

'I think they heard us,' he said. Suddenly, the stone shook in his hand. The Shard shook in rhythm and showed the image of Waory and the Land-Regent.

'What's going on over there, Medieval?' the Regent's voice came through the stone.

'Quite a lot, Sirus, I'll explain later. If you don't mind me asking, where did you find your communication stone?'

'I would prefer you call me by title, Dastardly, but the stone, that was quite silly. Embarrassing even.'

'It was under the royal lounge,' said Waory. On the glass face they could see the Land-Regent give Waory a poisonous glance.

'The Clockwork City and the mother are together,' said Adrian. The child had climbed on top of its mother's dome. The mother tucked its legs in and a jet of fire came out from its underside.

'This can't be good,' said Dastardly. He pocketed the stone.

'What?' said the Regent.

'The mother City is preparing to –'

The fire had gotten so hot it was nearly invisible, and was rushing out at incredible speed. Around the mother creature dust and smoke were swirling but through it the adventurers could see the feet leave the ground.

'It's taking off like a fire rocket!'

The creature's speed grew exponentially and it shot up into the sky, leaving a trail of white and grey haze. The mother and child continued higher and higher until they couldn't be seen.

'Off to another world,' said Dastardly. The others looked at him blankly. 'Assuming they came from the sky, they're probably going back to search for their home.'

'Is it over?' asked the knight.

The air wave from the jet hit their ship, spinning about like a cow in a tornado. Plen did his best on the controls by the wheel, but the knight and the freelancer were thrown to the sides and hung on for their lives. When the wind subsided, they unsteadily climbed back on board.

'I think that just lost us everything but the rope,' Plen said. 'That Shard could've been useful.'

'It's still here,' said the freelancer. Plen T. was holding it nonchalantly in his right hand, the other on the wheel.

'Well look at that, we'd better find somewhere safe for it.'

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In Defence of the Realm - Nine Congressmen with a Single Chance

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'The Clockwork Cities weren't constructed here,' said Siy. 'They weren't actually constructed at all. The formation of the original World Congress, hundreds of years ago, occurred after a falling star smashed into the Pan and created this valley, Hox. On that falling star was a traveller from another world and his monolithic pet, the original Clockwork City.

'The traveller saw the squabbling humans, the unfocused jotunn families, the gnomes with their silly aspirations for mechanics. He even saw the koboms. He brought all peoples together at the meeting place at which we are standing. A congress for the whole world, eight representatives from eight races in a tower eight stories high, with him as a guiding councillor.

'The traveller taught the humans how to control the land, he taught the sprites how to make their forest homes wherever they went. He helped koboms overcome the beast inside them. To the gnomes he gave the rudimentary rules of Clockwork. To share his power equally, he even gave every race the most valuable gift he could – an egg from his pet.

'These blue imprints are part of the eggs that were delivered to every ruling class of every race. Some did not want the burden and brought the imprint back here. Others guarded their cities viciously. The kobom's city was lost first. I don't wish to judge but at the time it was thought that the visitor from the stars favoured koboms the least.

'For generations the peoples thrived, but eventually the traveller died, leaving the other eight members of the congress to elect a new representative for Clockwork. That did not go well. Finally, the nine congressmen decided that the power over all clockwork was too much for any one person, or group of people from this world to have.

'They left the original clockwork creature to the sands of time. This tower was abandoned, and only one Clockwork City remained functioning in the intervening period. The world is much poorer for it, but back then they thought it was their only chance.'

The sun was well and truly above the horizon now. Adrian was the first to speak.

'So we are standing in the mother of Clockwork? You will be able to bring back the Clockwork City, by doing what exactly?'

'Resurrecting her!' said Siy. He went back to the podium and held up the last two clockwork egg imprints. 'The essence of the “new life” she gave into the eggs should hopefully work the other way. Why else would this pedestal accept them?'

'An interesting tale, Siy,' said Dastardly, 'but how do you know all of this?'

'Some of it was kobom folklore,' Siy said. 'Most of it I gained from watching through the Shard. I had to, since my plan was to revive the first clockwork creature and control it.'

'What?' said Adrian. 'Why do you want to control it?'

'The thing is,' Siy smiled manically, 'watching the past through the tarnished Shard is very taxing on the soul. It has made me quite mad!'

He pushed the imprints firmly into the podium. As they touched it, the tower began to rumble. So fast it could almost not be seen, Siy grabbed a crossbow in each hand from somewhere in his clothes and pointed one at the freelancer, one at the knight.

'You've been a great help,' he said. He giggled, 'I've watched you all through the Mirror on your way here. Dastardly – you aren't very dastardly, I have to say, and Adrian – you are perhaps a little too smart for someone from the Clockwork City. I'm going to kill you now.'

'Not so fast,' said the freelancer. In the midst of Siy's monologue, he had procured the trick sword, set it on his shoulder and aimed it at the kobom.

'Did I miss something?' Siy laughed. 'You fired your last shot at that ogre on the deep road. I'm afraid I left my ship to wait for you here after that.'

'Oh yeah,' Dastardly said. 'I guess we're screwed.'

The tower started to rock back and forth before rising up beneath them. While Siy tried to regain his balance, both the knight and the freelancer had taken cover behind the representatives' chairs.

'What do we do now?' said Adrian.

'Alright, stay there if you want,' said Siy. 'Cowards.'

The tower was still rising as Siy walked to the edge and yelled to the milling crowds down below.

'Finally I can greet you all! Witness your new Congress, aka me, ready to take on the world!'

Now the tower started to tip slightly, the chairs sliding down the inclined floor. Siy scrabbled back to the centre of the room.

'I have an idea,' said Dastardly. 'Get ready to leave really fast.'

The freelancer faced the kobom.

'Here, wouldn't you like to know how this works?' He chucked the sword at Siy.

'I could find out how it works any day of the –' the kobom began. He picked up the sword. 'Actually, it is very interesting craftsmanship...'

The floor was getting steeper and steeper, tipping in the wrong direction for the adventurers to reach the stairs in time. Meanwhile, Siy had become engrossed in the sword and didn't notice that he was about to slide out the window.

'Please say you aren't going to save him!' Adrian said as he tried to climb forty five degrees of flat surface.

'I'm not going to let that sword go to waste!' Dastardly shouted back.

He slipped back towards the kobom and put out his hand.

'Give me the sword back, please.'

'AAHHH!' Siy said. He fell off the edge.

'You can't get away like that!' said the freelancer when he'd grabbed one of Siy's arms with his right hand. With his left arm he steadied himself on the cog-shaped wall which provided the barest of handholds with its teeth.

'No sword is worth the pain in the butt I'll be if I live!' said Siy. 'Better to drop me now and get it over with!'

'I'm considering it,' Dastardly groaned as his hand started to lose grip.

The entire structure shook violently like an earthquake, accompanied by a cracking BOOM! Dastardly's right hand shook free and Siy fell. Just in time, Adrian had joined him to grab onto the freelancer's left arm.

'No one could survive that fall, even with your gnomish boots,' said the knight. His voice echoed, the echo having a thick and dark feminine quality to it.

'No, it can't be you,' said Dastardly. 'I've avoided you my whole life!' He turned his head in the air to see a woman in a hooded cloak. She didn't seem to be standing on anything. The woman raised her head and the freelancer could see that her eyes had skulls for pupils.

'Now this is a long awaited meeting,' she grinned, but only a little. 'Your new friend Adrian here has danced with me on many an occasion, but you are right, Dastardly Medieval.  You actively avoid me at every turn. The only reason you are in this mess at all is because you didn't want to owe a favour to a powerful man. The only reason you met the knight was that you didn't want Krotar to slice you open. You never went back to him, and you might not have a chance, now that you're close to me.'

'For someone who often works quickly you do talk a lot,' Dastardly said.

'Time slows down. How else could your whole life flash before your eyes?'

'I don't see anything of the sort. I'm only close to Death, not dying.'

'I have an ulterior motive for appearing to you at this time. I cannot say all I need to, but I will have another chance soon enough. There is work that my superiors need you to do.'

'What, you've got a boss?'

'Sure – though I don't work in circles like free will and grand plans. No, the superior I refer to is simply a senior in my line of work. Oh, looks like I'll have to see you later. I know I will.'

Time flooded back into Dastardly's world. In one instant the knight fell from the tower and the freelancer with him. But they hadn't died.

'You must be really happy to see old Plen T. now, hey Dastardly?'

They landed on the deck of the airship with a chorus of 'oof'.

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Grand Finale

Having spent roughly six hours straight working out the kinks in the final drafts, I am happy to say that "In Defence of the Realm" is complete, several weeks before schedule.  You can thank a brief, relaxing holiday I have taken.

In order to fully capitalise on my excitement for finishing it (which is sure to dissipate once university assessments rack up) I will make this next week a "Grand Finale" event.  On Wednesday night, barring a freak accident, I shall have Chapter 9 go live, and following that the considerably larger Chapter 10 split up on Friday, Saturday and Sunday.  Have a great week :)

In Defence of the Realm - Eight Floors, Second Tower

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'That was never a turret!'

The exit to Hox was not a deep Door; the slight rise being all that stood between the associates and their goal. Instead, the exit was a wide mouth at the base of a cliff. From where he stood, Adrian could see the slope down into the valley, the tent villages that had sprung up in the grass and the great congress building that surveyed the countryside.

'Maybe “turretial” means something different in the old language,' said Dastardly, whose memory was grey in this area.

'That is a tower,' Adrian continued in amazement, 'and what's more is that it looks clockwork.'

The building itself was eight stories high, rising out of the uneven ground in the middle of the valley like it was giving the whole place a rude gesture.  Gears that made it glinted in the moonlight. Behind it the sky was at its darkest, the fading into the barest glimpse of day back to the east.

'There's something else up there,' said Plen, pointing at the very top. 'An oval shape.'

'The King's tower looks somewhat like that,' said Adrian. 'The architects of the Clockwork City and this Turretial were certainly one and the same.' The knight unconsciously dipped his hand into the satchel to check that the blue imprints were still there.

'That would part way explain how Siy can save the city. I want to know why he's called Congress.' Dastardly then shot off down the incline.

'Wait!' Plen T. ran after him. 'You don't know how to get to the congress room!'

The freelancer slowed his pace as he approached the makeshift communities near the base of the tower. Though some camp fires were still smouldering, throughout the camps early risers were lighting torches. The gnome and the knight caught up when he'd wandered into the apparent centre.

'Everyone has split off into groups,' said Plen. 'I think we should keep moving before we wake them.'

Far to their right there was a patch of ogres sleeping under the stars, and to their left was a very regal looking patch of southern-men with six poster, rainbow coloured tents. Behind them was a much less ornate group of people whose tents were whatever they could scrounge, those from the Clockwork City.

'There are people here from all over the world!' Dastardly said. 'Every race, every country.' He looked ahead where a miniature jungle had spread up, indicating the presence of sprites.

'Almost all the countries.' said Adrian. 'I see no jotunn, no plainsmen, no sha–'

'Would you two stop gawping?' Plen said. 'I'm taking you up the Turretial now or never.'

The two humans followed the gnome to the tower at the bottom of the slope. The foundations were built deep into the earth and the ground floor entry had long been filled with composting debris.

'Looks like the last person out left the door open, aha,' said Plen. 'Come on, I haven't got all day.'

Instead of stairs there was an elevator, a clockwork one that Plen operated with deceptive ease. Dastardly reluctantly got inside, muttering, 'it wasn't my fault to begin with.'

The device clinkered its way up the Turretial, passing through each level that held, among other things, a row of bookcases, eight cook pots and on the fifth floor some boxes that a pessimistic adventurer could have mistaken for coffins.

The elevator stopped on the seventh and went no farther. Dastardly stepped onto the cog-shaped floor, wavered a bit and crouched low in case the entire structure gave way. Adrian boldly strode to a gap in the cog-shaped walls. At this height the Pan was the horizon, with a golden wedge of sunlight cautiously edging over it.

'Oh wow,' said Plen. He rushed to the knight's side. On the outer edge of the tower was a wide staircase that circled to the top floor, and moored to the outside railing was an airship of gnomish design. It was almost all balloon, at least twelve yards long and covered in propellers.

'I've gotta check this out,' he said, climbing over the edge. 'It's specially modified, I'm sure the owner won't mind.'

'We'll meet you here on the way down,' said Adrian. The knight picked up Dastardly and they ascended to the final floor, each step comprised of a cog layered on top of the last one. At the top of the stairs was an airy room with a ring of chairs, or maybe thrones, and a podium that held some objects that looked like those Adrian had in his satchel. A nasal voice rang through the hollow space.

'Welcome, Sir Adrian. Thank you for so promptly bringing the artefacts.'

A rat face poked around the podium.

'Siy is a kobom?' said Dastardly.

Adrian's face bunched up. 'You can only hear someone's voice with the communication stones.'

Siy stepped out to greet them. 'Sir Adrian and, ah, is it Cowardly Medieval?'

'Dastardly,' said the freelancer.

'Of course. How is Helen?' Siy said.

Now Dastardly's face bunched up. 'No one could know about that.'

'Well, Mr Medieval, I know a lot of things that “no one could know about”. For instance, your acquaintance on my airship will probably steal it within the hour. That's alright, I don't need it any more.'

Dawn more or less broke, the sun finally spreading into the sky.

Adrian quietly handed Siy the two imprints.

'This is going to be a very good day,' said the kobom. 'Before I set it all in motion, would you like to hear a story?'

'What sort of story?' said Adrian.

Dastardly muttered under his breath again, 'no one could know about her.'

'History!' said Siy. 'It took me years, but I've pieced it together. I had to find the ruins in the desert, the gnome museum... I also had to pay quite a lot of money for the Shard, the owner didn't truly know what he possessed.'

'What do you mean?'

'Take a seat.' Siy jumped and clicked his feet together excitedly. 'Let me tell you about the visitor from far away and the formation of Congress!'

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In Defence of the Realm - Seven Miles and a Third Adventurer

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The rain eventually petered out and Sir Adrian said goodbye to his horse. He led Dastardly out into the Sponge with a torch from the fire in hand, and they took another nearby cave that sloped downwards at the back.

'So what sort of name is Dastardly?' Adrian said once they'd reached the bottom of the cave. Around them sat pools of water, though the path they took was dry.

'A relic from a past life. Someone called me Dastardly, so that I was called.' Eager to change the subject, the freelancer asked, 'so why isn't it flooded here? With all the rain you would expect a great lake over the Pan.'

'Not from anywhere near here, right?' Adrian turned raised his eyebrow.

'My memory isn't great... the plains, the Turretial, nothing concrete.'

'Still, you could tell me more than I would tell you.' The knight kept leading the way. Aside from the torch, the only sights were the occasional shaft of moonlight that shone through small holes in the rocks.

'But I would guess it's the same here as under the mountains,' the knight said. 'The gnomes dig huge reservoirs to catch the water that filters through the rock, that way their tunnels stay dry.'

Not much farther on they arrived at the Doors. There were eight of them. Four, including the one that Adrian approached, were as wooden castle doors with brass knockers and riveted braces. The others were nearly three times the size of a man.

'The big doors are probably for ogres,' Adrian said in a withdrawn and uninterested tone. He made a rat-tat-a-tat-tat-tat and the door swung open with a click that suggested, unnervingly to Dastardly, the presence of clockwork. On the other side was a stone path, eight horses wide, underneath a very tall arching tunnel. As they stepped out onto the road, a six legged beast of burden cantered past.

The freelancer looked up and down. The road was almost straight, stretching into darkness with only gnomish lamps to light the way. Everyone, it seemed, was travelling in the same direction, because not a single soul was coming back along the road.

'It can't be more than fifteen minutes from here to Hox,' he said, kneeling down.

Adrian raised an eyebrow.

'You have got to be kidding.'

---

Ten minutes of uncomfortable running followed.

'You could have done me a favour and taken off the armour,' said Dastardly, huffing as each step with the Mercurial Boots took more than ten yards off their journey.

'It isn't exactly fun up here either, you know,' the knight yelled back down from his position riding piggyback on the freelancer.

A sign on the left declared that Hox was coming up soon at the end of the road. If the light were better, Dastardly could have noticed that, on the outer edges, the road sloped upwards into the night. He would also have noticed the large shadow that sat on the fringe of the road, farthest between lamps.

All in one excruciating moment, the freelancer felt Adrian lifted from his back, and for the second time that night, he stumbled into trouble.

'Ungh,' he said, flat on the ground.

'Well, well,' said a small voice. 'Looks like someone new. We're really making a killing off all these travellers that haven't been to Hox before, right Jowno?'

'Dat's for sure, Plen.'

Dastardly felt a poke on his neck.

'Pray that you've got enough for the highway toll, mate. Roll over and turn out those pockets.'

The freelancer did as he was told.

'I've only got – hang on, that's not a crossbow!'

The highwayman, actually a gnome, was holding a metal stick that probably did look like a crossbow to the untrained eye. Dastardly was a little more learned, and punched the gnome in the gut before leaping to his feet. A moment later, after his head had stopped spinning, he pulled out his sword to aim at the accomplice, who was holding Sir Adrian up like a kitten. The ogre probably reeked if you got too close, and its grey face was scabbed all over.

'Hey, you're not supposed ta –' it said, before Dastardly's bolt hit it in the chest. It dropped the knight.

'Owie! Owie owie!' the ogre yelled, more out of annoyance than mortal pain.

'Come on Adrian, we've got to get going!'

'That's Sir Adrian to you,' the knight groaned. As they both made to leave, the gnome called out behind them.

'Wait! I've seen those before!'

'What?' Dastardly turned and glanced at the ground. The highway gnome got to his feet.

'Did you get those gadgets from Nuff Sed?'

'He's just buttering you up, you fool,' said Adrian.

'What's it to you?' the freelancer said.

'Nuff Sed's my cousin. He made the best boots but took 'em away before anyone else could copy them.'

'We don't care,' Adrian said. 'He's just going to set the ogre after us, Dastardly.  We need to leave.'

The ogre had extricated the bolt. 'What you want I should do, Plen?'

The gnome stepped forward and put on a businesslike air.

'The name's Plen T. Sed. I'd do anything to study that kit you're using.'

'Could you get us to the Turretial?'

'Sure. Jowno, I'll meet you back here.'

The ogre shrugged its shoulders and sat down, shaking the entire tunnel.

Adrian looked at the freelancer. 'Do you make a habit of being too reasonable to kill?'

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In Defence of the Delay

Readers can rest assured that I haven't slipped to the point of abandoning my weekly schedule entirely, but I am posting to notify anyone interested that the next chapter of "In Defence of the Realm" won't be posted around the same time tomorrow because I won't be near a computer.

Instead, look forward to it around twenty four hours after the regular time.  I hope I haven't ruined anyone's weekend with this announcement ;)

In other news, progress has currently stalled on planning the next serial, "Into the Crust".  While I have tried to build a consistent and mysterious world fitting my rapid fire description in August, I am having trouble reconciling the more light-hearted aspects of the blurb (and some of the weirder ideas I had behind it) with the rather structured and serious tone the plot has taken on.  I have considered letting the story continue in this fashion for the moment to see where it takes me - the plus side for readers is that I may have several chapters drafted and finished before they go live.  Regardless, I have another, less dramatic story I am eager to share once "In Defence of the Realm" finishes that may bridge the gap.