H.M.A.S Badger ~ Online Æther Ship ~ Member's Wanted

[MWBailey]

Bailey stood, silently, much more at ease than a man whose entire career would seem to be turning on a single point of who was where, and when. But it was not really that simple, and the where was a strategic windfall that he could not have foreseen if he had gone to the best medium on Luna. The where was the communications office aboard the Badger, and the when was during the entire conversation between Nightshade and Miss Curious; when Milpott tripped the intruder alert, it turned on the microphone on the both the squawkbox itself, and also the three microphones in the ceiling of the stateroom, as well as a four-turntable phonograph recorder in the Comm room. This was set up to happen no matter in which room the alarm was tripped, and it made more than one copy, and it recorded even their lowest voice tones.

Thus, when Bailey left the Communications Room, he had some extra padding, instead of just a hotseat to look forward to...

[Theosophus Grey]

Grey stood quietly in the temple's anteroom to which the tyler had directed him, casually examining the paintings and sculptures along the walls, most depicting historic scenes important to Masonic symbolism.  Minutes passed, and he decided to avail himself of the leather wing chair near the small fire burning on the hearth.  Removing a long leather wallet from the breast of his tunic, he reviewed the documents he had brought along - his own mysterious package, the note Miss Curious had left upon his desk, and that given to him by Miss Askew during his brief visit before leaving the ship; he took a moment to review the last again:

Ms. Askew,

If you know what's good for you, you'll call off the hunt for your brother.
You are involving yourself in things your feeble woman's mine can't possibly understand.
If you insist on continuing, you'll find your reputation just as tarnished as his.
What would your future husband think?

-- B.

The disturbing presence of the Craft symbol on the wax seal was too much coincidence, given the present state of things - and who the devil was "B"?  Miss Askew had been able to add little in her unsteady condition, only that her airman brother had in fact disappeared off his ship recently and, yes, of course she was looking for him, wouldn't you be?  Based on her manner and speech, Grey believed her when she said she had no knowledge of any larger scheme, and had wished her a swift recovery before leaving the ship, arranging for a guard to stand watch at her door on the way.  That's becoming too common on this trip, he sourly thought to himself.  I'll have to make a point of socializing with the passengers when I get back aboard, they're probably more than a bit frightened by all the goings on lately.

Hearing the tyler re-enter the room and giving a small cough, Grey stood, secured his wallet and, smoothing his tunic, followed the doorman into the temple's main hall, booted steps echoing in matching stride on the polished stone floor.

[Cornelius Nightshade]

Nightshade left his stateroom to get him self a little air and to think. Clearly he couldn’t do that in his room that place is quickly becoming a second Piccadilly Circus. Nightshade was relieved that he had wit enough not to hide anything important in his room were everyone seems to be spending so much of their day.,,,,,

“ Guten Tag, Herr Nightshade, A few words with you if you don’t mind”

Nightshade looked up startled he had just been wondering aimlessly and had strolled himself back in to one of those back passageways the crew uses, only to be confronted by a walking side of beef posing as a German.

Contrary to what the officers aboard this ship may think, Nightshade is not a coward per say, he is in fact a self-preservationist. Gifted with a strong inner danger detector. That detector was now going off like mad. So as Nightshade looked up into the Germans smiling face he to smiled back nodding his head.

“ Oh, jolly good,,,”

Then as fast as a frighten man can move, Nightshade drove his fist into the man about six inches below his belt buckle. Then ran as fast as he could, as the German quietly folded over in his own little universe of pain.

[Cornelius Nightshade]

Captain Alexander von Muller of the SMS Adler, a light cruiser of the German Imperial Aether Navy, stood before his vessel as she rested on the pads refitted and ready for service.

He opened the envelope containing his orders. He frowned as he read his orders a second time, what honor was in this mission, The Badger? She was no military vessel.

,,,,,Then  rendezvous with SMS Von der Tann,  before pressing on to Mars, all very strange.
 No matter, I am after all a simple aether navy man who but follows orders.

He boarded his ship giving orders to make ready to launch.

[MWBailey]

OOOF!

THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHIMP...pantpantpantpantpantdid I Lose 'im?pantpantpantTUMPTHUMPTHUMP--WHOOP!CRUNCHCrUmBlE....

Bailey didn't make it back to his stateroom; just as he was about to turn the corner into the corridor he usually followed to get there, he and Nightshade ran smack into one another. Bailey had heard nightshade coming, but had perhaps unwisely not moved to protect the phonograph record in his left hand. now it lay in pieces across the deck...

"You bloody great juggernaut, Nightshade! what're you playing at? Is the devil after you or somewhat?" In the distance they heard "Himmels! vhere haff you ronn to, nichschaden?" and a whole string of Germanic obscenities.

God in heaven, are they after you too, Nightshade? before either can say more, the German and his companion round the corner, the newcomer holding a blaster almost identical to Holts'...

Ahhh, ze two off yo togezzer, ah?

"Nightshade," Bailey harshly murmured to the nefarious passenger, "When we get out of this you'd better tell me exactly whats going on! Now, shut yer eyes!"

Bailey pulled "his" own blaster, pointed it at the pair of Germans, and pulled the trigger, the ill-tuned focus flaring out immediately into a broad, flat flash, much like that of sheet lightning, between the two pairs of people, absolutely blinding the Germans, whereupon Bailey grabbed tighter hold of Nightshade and pulled him into the nearest crew passageway, one of the many such corridors used only by the crew, mainly the maid and custodial staff, for passing unobtrusively between blocks of rooms.

The blast-rated door shut behind them on spring-loaded hinges, and Bailey lugged Nightshade around the corner, out of the line of possible fire, should the Germans pursue, threw him against the wall, pulled the Webley from its holster, and said, "Ok, start talking! And don't give me any 'I don't know' manure, I was listening to your tete -a-tete with Miss Curious!"

"speaking of which... Miss Curious, please join us, will you?" Bailey called out to the sound of footsteps from the other direction than the door they had entered by.

[Zuttle D. Curious]

    Zuttle hummed to herself as she walked down the last hall to the crews quarters. She spotted a door with two guards in front of it. Twopence says thats where Samuel is. She doubled back around and followed another hall, Kitchen route it is then.
    "Hey John!" Zuttle smiled brightly when she spotted him.
    "Curious?! What are you doing here? Last I heard you were under lock and key by order of Captain Grey."
    "I had some unfinished business I needed to take care of. Speaking of which, I need to know about Samuel. The crewman who was also locked up on my behalf?"
    "Excuse me? Are you mad? I can't tell you anything!"
    "Awww please? Just help me get into His room to talk with him, and I'll leave you alone, and I'll make sure your name doesn't come up if anyone catches me."
    "I don't owe you anything, Curious, Please go before I get someone from security."
    "John, I'm in a hurry so I will make this plain. If I get caught, I will tell Grey or Bailey, whoever, that you helped me. Unless of course you actually do help me. Then I'm sure your name won't come up. How about it?"
    John stared coldly at her for a moment. "His dinner hasn't been sent out yet, you can take it there if you want. Leave me alone after this, ok Curious?"
    "Thank you John." Zuttle smiled. "You have no idea how much I appreciate this." John handed her the tray, she walked back toward Samuel's room.

    "Dinner time!" Zuttle declared to the guards. They lifted the cover on the tray, used a metal detector over it, and generally inspected it.
    "Alright, take it in." The guard said, opening the door for her.
    "Last time he was served some of the dishes didn't come back to the kitchen. I was told to watch and make sure he doesn't stash any more knives. So I will be in there 'till he is done. Okay?"
    The guards looked at each other suspiciously then back at her. "Alright. But try to make it fast."
    She walked in and set the tray on the table. Samuel was sitting on the bed rocking back and forth, not even a glance to see who had just walked in. "Hello Samuel."
    He looked up.

[Zuttle D. Curious]

    "Whyed you attack him like that?" Samuel started. "You got me locked up and I didn't even do anything."
    "Sorry, I really didn't mean to... That really didn't go the way I expected."
    "Well, why are you here? It couldn't have been easy to get in with the guards there, and The ship has docked and people are free to come and go, It's too late to find the bag now."
    "You may be right, I don't really know if it is yet..." there was a bit of awkward silence.
    "Why did you come though?"
    "I need to know what you told Captain Grey."
    Samuel hesitated a bit. "I didn't know what to tell him, I told him about the black bag, I told him about the stewart who saw Nightshade find it, I told him you had offered to help me find it. Thats pretty much it."
    "He would have asked you what was in the bag. And why you wanted it." Zuttle pointed out.
    "I told him I didn't know what was in the bag, just that I had been instructed to retrieve it. And... I'm not really sure who I work for either, I got the job details from my father in law."
    Zuttle nodded. "Are you sure that's it?"
    "Yes."
    "One more thing. What happens to you personally if you fail this mission?"
    Samuel paused. "Well... I'll never hear the end of it from my father in law, that is for sure. All I was told really is a lot of people would be hurt if I failed."
    She nodded. "Come here and eat so I can take the tray out, ok?"
    He complied, When all was finished she took the tray back out, without much bother from the guards, she brought the tray back to the kitchen. Alright, now to find Nightshade. Get some sort of story squared out.
   
    -----------------------------------

    "speaking of which... Miss Curious, please join us, will you?" Bailey called out to the sound of footsteps from the other direction than the door they had entered by.
    A somewhat Annoyed maid appeared to come out of a room to the side, wheeling a laundry basket with her, apparently full of old towels and sheets. She looked at the two, saw Bailey's gun in his hand, and the look on Nightshades face. She looked back toward the door and began walking, muttering something about boys and roughhousing and putting all kinds of holes in a space ship being the doom of us all.
    Zuttle was just about to open the door when she had heard Bailey's voice calling for her, She was debating whether or not to go in, or just run. And had just decided to go in, when the door opened. The maid squealed and hit Zuttle with a towel repeatedly and then sped off, still muttering except now about mischievous girls spying on everybody.
    The door had been left wide open. She looked in and saw Bailey and Nightshade in the enterence room of the stateroom. Both were staring at her. "Suppose running isn't an option anymore then." Zuttle walked in and shut the door behind her.
   

[MWBailey]

"Oh, well, running might work out well for you," Bailey said, "or it might not." Nightshade, here, just got accosted by a german fellow who happens to sport this same kinda gun, which is what I took off the fellow who tried to fry me this afternoon, who also happens to be German. the fellow just now, outside in the public corridors, has another german with him now, who is helping him look fro nightshade. "

Now, believe it or not, It's my duty to protect the two of you, even though you've pretty much proven yourselves to me and the officers aboard to be rather nefarious. The natural human inclination in a case like mine is to simply walk away and let you both be eaten alive by whatever monster you've attracted to yourselves, but I'm a man with a conscience. I can't just walk away and let one or both of you be killed by another passenger or passengers, for the same reasons. Assuming that such was their intent. "

"Now..." Bailey's voice took on an added note of urgency, "Nightshade, for the sake of the ship and your continued existence on it, do you know for a fact that those two out there want to kill you, and are they a threat to the ship?"

As he spoke, Baily readjusted the blaster to full power, stun, needle beam. Thus, no holes would be shot through anything unless it were tissue paper, and any people struck would only suffer a half-hour's nap and a headache-- Bailey waved nightshade back with the muzzle as he feinted or tried to feint, covering it by pretending to show Bailey how to set the blaster.

"And Miss Curious, do you know what this is all about? The ship's, and our collective survival, might depend on your answer; what are they really after? A certain artifact, perhaps?"

"Okay, now, take turns, and talk."

[Cornelius Nightshade]

“ Slow down, artifact huh? so you did have my stateroom taped I expected as much. Look I can not tell you everything the Foreign Office has rules about that sort of thing. The counter to that is you, like as not, put together much of what I am about to tell you.

The “artifact” is a device it has to do with an advanced aether propulsion system that’s all I can tell you about that. It was invented by a Egyptian engineer working for the British Government, I am transporting documents about its construction to Mars.

I honestly did not know in till moments ago that the Germans must have gotten wind of it and are trying to stop me. I am informed that this new system is so revolutionary it could shift the balance of power in the solar system.


As for the young lady, at first I believed she was also after what I was carrying but it turned out she got mixed up with me thinking I had some relic or objets d'art. I decided that it would be better to keep her close rather then running around as a loose cannon.

{ Turning to Curious }

I am sorry for misleading you, but I did mean what I said about being able to help you avoid any problems with your old employer.

As for danger to the ship, yes we are in danger every second we remain at dock. We have got to get this ship to Mars! So were is captain Grey the sooner we get started the better!”

[Cornelius Nightshade]

This Just In,
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TO:
      H.M.A.S. Badger

FROM:
     The New Lloyd's of London
     Board of directors


Badger/ Captain Grey,

Be advised that any further delay will be looked on as breach of contract, to fulfill the Terms of our agreement you must arrive on mars on the agreed to time schedule. Passenger booking and cargo contracts for return voyage are secure. Be assured of our confidence that terms will be met.

N.L. of L.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[MWBailey]

"Captain" Grey is at the local Masonic temple investigating these same matters from a slightly different angle. I can try to raise him on my uniform comm. unit, but it's dicey if it's a long distance or the building is shielded. We could try the comm. room, but we'll have to go up the zero shaft at the ship's center to get there; if we take the regular lifts or the corridors our German friends might see us. Before we do much else, we need to see what Miss Curiously can tell us. He turned to the young lady in question. Miss, is there anything you could add? Even a tiny bit could prove to be vastly important.

[Theosophus Grey]

Episode (whatever): Treachery In The Temple!

As important as this is, thought Grey, I better not be too much longer from the ship - Dan isn't really himself yet, and we've a launch schedule to keep, this last prompting him to steal a quick glance at his pocketwatch as he followed the big doorman up the marble staircase.

Emptying out onto the second floor foyer, the tyler continued across to rap his knuckles in an odd pattern upon a heavily-carved wooden door, not even pausing before opening it and stepping aside to allow Grey to enter.  Light flooded the room in contrast to the temple's dim interior halls, the harsh lunar sunlight cascading through an ornate glass dome above, causing Grey to squint for a moment before being able to see clearly who, exactly, he was sketching a slight bow to.  "Come in, Brother Grey, I am Master Linton Sethmore", called the lean, elderly gent seated behind the massive yet almost empty mahogany desk, the immense floor-to-ceiling windows behind him open to a landing above the bright lunar landscape, a faint breeze picking at the filmy draperies; "please, join us."

The 'us' consisted of two other guests to the Master's chambers, the first a well but simply-dressed man a good bit younger than Grey himself, a professional yet affable air about him as he rose from his chair to give Grey the secret greeting.  "Rhys Marringer, RIBA" he said in impeccable Oxford English, identifying himself as a working architect chartered in the Empire.  As they shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, Grey could see over Marringer's shoulder that the second man appeared less welcoming, not even bothering to raise his corpulent silk-suited bulk from his chair, forcing Grey to step over to him to clasp hands.  "Jeremy Bullweather, Bank of England"' he muttered dismissively, returning his glare to the man at the desk, who had now stepped around to greet his third guest properly, and in this case warmly, like a father might a visiting son.  Waving Grey to a chair and offering him refreshment, which was declined, he returned to his own seat and spread his hands, smiling.  "How may the temple aid a traveling man this day?" he posited formally.

As both the other guests were Brothers, Grey needed to word his reply carefully so as not to offend their oaths; he decided to open the door, but allow the others to step through first.  "Worshipful Master, my thanks for receiving me without the proper introductions having first been sent.  As you may already know, I am currently posted as the acting captain of the HMAS Badger, a commercial aetherliner en route to Mars, having landed here some time ago after encountering trouble underway.  What I felt I needed to make the Brotherhood aware of was an unrelated experience, even more troubling than an uncharted meteor swarm."  With this, he removed the wallet from his tunic and, opening only the notes from Misses Curious and Askew, slid them over to the elderly master mason, pointedly emphasizing the masonic seal on the latter.  "Since we departed, I have encountered spying, deception, theft, murderous attempts, and now, as you can see, threats of violence, all apparently centered around one Cornelious Nightshade of Lloyds, the liner's financier and ruddy boil of a passenger."  Sitting back in his chair, he asked quietly, "Master, is there something I should be made aware of, or that is being expected of me?"

Grey took the moment's pause to examine his companions; elderly Sethmore seemed genuinely confused by the papers before him, and young Marringer was openly concerned as he honestly met Grey's gaze with his own.  Bullweather, on the other hand, looked as if he was trying very hard to become part of the furniture, piggy eyes sliding around as if desirous of escape.  "Jeremy, y-y-you are on the board that charters new vessels for the Bank, and are w-w-well acquainted with our brother members in Lloyds", began Sethmore, stammering a bit; "can you shed any light on this matter?"

This was apparently too much for the swine of a banker, who rolled to his feet red-faced and sweating, only to shockingly cry out "ASSASSINS!  ASSASSINS! TYLER, TO THE MASTER'S AID!"  Producing a small pistol whilst shouting, he turned towards the astonished Sethmore and shot him twice, quickly, before either Grey or Marringer could intercede.  Tossing the pistol onto the desktop, Bullweather spun like a planet on its axis just in time to see the grizzled doorman fling the door open, his ceremonial sabre in hand.  "Quickly!  This man Grey just shot the Master!  Take him, whilst I sound the alarm! " he ordered the grimacing tyler, as he waddled to the bellrope adjacent to the desk.

Moments only having passed, Grey's at-first fiery shock was pushed aside by cold determination, and he had his own sabre out barely in time to parry and riposte that of the larger doorman.  From the corner of his eye, he spotted Marringer grappling with the disarmingly clownish banker, but the tyler's attack pressed closely before he could make anything of it.  Finish this quickly, this racket is enough to make the alarm redundant, Grey thought.  Feinting a thrust in low six, Grey allowed his opponent to step forward to begin his parry, only to face a reverse and a short slash to his knee, dropping him close enough for Grey to clout the tyler soundly on the side of the skull with the pommel of his sword, finishing his drop to the floor unconcious.

Raised voices approaching the door, Grey rushed to shoot the bolt, then turned to aid Marringer... only to see that the man had the banker purple-faced in a rather skilled wrestler's choke hold, allowing him to slide to floor spent, but still breathing.  Wiping his face on his sleeve, he clasped Grey's offered hand, explaining with a boyish smile "All-College champion, class of '89".  Turning quickly to the desk, both men moved to raise the Master in his seat, and were astonished to find him still alive but bleeding badly.  Contemplating the pounding fists on the chamber door, and the possibility of his being confined or worse depending on the depth of Bullweather's treachery, Grey turned to the younger man and made a quick decision.

Swiftly scabbarding his sabre and retrieving his wallet, Grey held out the mysterious oilskin package to Marringer, saying "I put this and the Master's life in your charge.  Do your best to explain what transpired here, and to see that Sethmore survives to second your story, not just to absolve me but to implicate Bullweather and possibly his accomplices in this.  If you come to believe that the Master or yourself may not survive, for whatever reasons... then one of you MUST read this, and act on it before your deaths.  Will you accept this doom, Brother?"  Straightening from his caregiving to the wounded man to face Grey eye to eye, the younger man accepted the package, quietly intoning "For the sake of the widow's son" as he firmly clasped Grey's hand in oath.

Turning towards the open windows to the landing, Grey contemplated the climb down and his route back to the dockyards.

Don't Miss The Next Exciting Episode of... Red Sands and Red Swords!

[Zuttle D. Curious]

    "Only that these firecrackers might see use afterall." Zuttle glared at Nightshade. "I don't appreciate being lied to Nightshade. Consider that a warning." Zuttle walked out of the room.
    I was still sent here to find an artifact, because a Museum hired us to do so, and all evidence pointed to it being on this ship. Either Nightshade is covering for us, or he is unaware. More likely the first. We have a cover story, and for now I will have to stay away from Nightshade. Where to next? The Germans? More than likely they don't care about me. But it might be good to find out what they want.

[MWBailey]

Bailey turned to Nightshade. "It's only an opinion, Nightshade, but if I were you, I'd be very careful of that young lady; she walks in a stalk and doesnt scare easily, and more than three-quarters smells like a spook." He fiddled with the transceiver unit on his belt, and a mic on a long, thin stalk rose up from his shoulder to the level of his mouth. "OK. let me try the the uniform radio, and maybe we can get Grey to come back before too long. You have considered by now, of course, that by resisting the Germans, we could in fact have caused them to sicc their Navy on us? They're rather famous for that kind of tactic." Nightshade visibly paled, presumably at the prospect of the Germans simply blasting the Badger to smithereens en route.

"He tested the radio, then sent, "Badger Security BSO1 calling Captain Grey, BSO1 Calling Grey, come in, priority Urgent. Badger Security BSO1 calling Captain Grey, BSO1Calling Grey, come in, priority Urgent, over, come in , please, over..."

The reply was surprisingly immediate...

Badger Security BSO1, this is Grey, what is wrong?

Sir, I have Nightshade in Maintenance corridor BF17; We are hiding from German Nationals who are on board, apparently as passengers, but whom have been seen all over the ship, as if they are looking for someone or something; they are really beginning to pry, sir, and Nightshade is convinced they mean him bodily harm; he's sucker punched him, and I just blinded them with a wide blaster flare, and pulled  Nightshade to safety. He's come more or less clean, sir, and says he was carrying an industrial artifact  of German origin. he does not now know the whereabouts of said artifact, he says.  May I remind the Acting Cap'n that it was a German national who fired on me not so long a while ago, and whose blaster i now hold, over.

"BSO1, I am in transit, but not able to be there immediately. Contact Commander Bilstrupp and tell him I said to apprehend the Germans, and to fire at will if they fire upon the guards. Trust no masons, BSO1, one just tried to kill the Master here, and implicate me. I am returning as fast as I can. Have the bridge begin warming the engines. Over"

"Aye, sir. Do you want an escort or rendezvous if we can wangle it? over."

"Negative. Tell the bridge that I said they should leave without me if I do not arrive in time. The Fourth Officer is In charge in that instance. Either apprehend or repel the Germans, BSO1, and get the Badger to Mars. Those two are imperative. Over"

"Aye, Sir, Understood. Will relay messages. Bailey Out."

Bailey relayed the messages as Ordered (both required a bit of explanation and persuasion), and then called up all of the Bridge-forward guards, told them to roust out the lieutenant (Bilstrupp's idea, not his) and asked for the Germans' positions. While the guards checked on the Germans, Bailey asked Nightshade, "well, you can sucker-punch an opponent's groin. Can you fight? Maybe use a blaster or a regular firearm?"

[Cornelius Nightshade]

“A horrifying possibility but among the list of worries I would not put it at the top, I would think that the Germans would much rather get a look at the plans and grab the discovery for them selves”

[MWBailey]

I think you're probably right, but I wouldn't put it past them to call up a cruiser and use it to back up tyheir threats to effect such a thing as you so horrifyingly suggest," Bailey said, as they walked the maintenamce corridor toward the place where everyone was gathering to confront the Germans.

"The question still stands, Mr. Nightshade: can you fight if it comes to that? can you use my Webley and actually hit what you're aiming at? unfortunately, they took my jacketed rounds and gave me rubber wadcutters. With what weapon would you prefer to repel boarders?"

[Cornelius Nightshade]

“The Foreign Office dose not give this kind of an assignment to men who cant handle all possible contingences, Yes, I can fight if it comes to it. To be honest with you I tend to use subterfuge and confusion as a way to avoid that kind of confrontation”

[Theosophus Grey]

"Aye, Sir, Understood. Will relay messages. Bailey Out."

Good man, that Bailey, thought Grey; it was fortunate that he was almost to the dockyard, otherwise the shipboard suit wireless would have been out of range, and Mr. Bailey had correctly chosen not to use the open communications channels available in the radio room.

Jumping down from the returning steamhack, Grey tossed coins to the driver and walked briskly across the public square towards the dockyard, his left hand casually resting on the hilt of his sabre, his eyes searching the milling crowd suspiciously.  The Badger was clearly visible at its landing station, its aerial turbines just beginning to turn, their thin whine audible across the distance even over the Return To Ship bell being rung to summon any passengers or crew still ashore.  If you insist, thought Grey dryly, quickening his pace.  

To his left, the doors of a large repair hangar were sliding open to reveal a trim, armorplated aethership being ramped out onto the flight yard - Imperial German by its markings, the SMS Irene Adler.  Frowning at the possibilities, Grey hastened to the Badger's landing platform, making the hatch just as Clear Moorings was being rung from the ship's bell.  Retrieving his Mauser from its holster, Grey began making his way to the bridge to relieve MacTavish of command and see to the ship's unwanted guests.

[Theosophus Grey]

Meanwhile, back at the Masonic Temple...

Bullweather began to recover his senses, finding himself lying on his back on the cold marble floor, blowing and gurgling like a beached whale.  Through a blinding headache, he could make out sounds of footsteps around him, and voices in quiet discussion.

"...and it's in his own handwriting, look here," he distinguished Marringer's polished speech from somewhere to his left.  "The poxy bastard even initialed it - that was either stupid, or he was so certain of his own position that he was unafraid of reprisal." "Or, my young friend, too much of a misogynist to think a 'mere woman' would be any threat to him," coughed a lower, more gruff voice in reply to the architect, giving them cause to share a chuckle.

Bullweather began to shake, knowing what they were discussing - his note to that Askew woman warning her off her brother's trail, delivered to her cabin by the agent the BOE had placed aboard Badger to watch Nightshade. That was supposed to be a simple matter, he reasoned to himself, a mere bagatelle in the larger concert being played - what had gone wrong???

"Sir, I do believe the 'gentleman' is awake," the voice of the tyler came from close on his right; turning his head, he almost pricked his nose on the tip of the doorman's gold-chased sabre.  Looking up along its length he saw the man's face, livid with anger under grey muttonchops, his eyes clearly promising a swift end if Bullweather gave him reason.  The corpulent banker swallowed heavily, sweat beginning to trickle along his neck and drip on the floor.

"Help him up, if you would," Marringer directed the tyler, and turned a chair about to receive the man's bulk as the doorman levered him up by the front of his silk waistcoat.  As Bullweather mopped his florid face with a kerchief from his breast pocket, he looked about him, eyes blurry from his near-asphyxiation.  The architect stood before him, arms crossed, flanked by the familiar tyler and another very military-looking man the banker didn't recognize.  Two of the temple Wardens stood at the closed door, while two more milled about the landing beyond the Master's desk, all carrying their ceremonial sabres drawn and laid across their chests in patrol-arms.

"You, sir, have much to answer for," Marringer began.  "Be grateful the temple's physician was able to treat our Worshipful Master in time, or Chief Warden Caulfield here", nodding to the man on his right, "would already have you swinging from a gibbet, brother freemason or no".  Bullweather whimpered a little, and may have soiled himself by the smell.  "Now...", Marringer began again, "...before we turn you over to the Governor General for indictment, we would appreciate an explanation, SIR.  What interest has the Bank of England in the goings-on aboard a passenger liner?"

Bullweather's mouth went dry, so that his reply came out as a thin hiss.  "What was that?" snapped Caulfield, "speak up, man!"  "They'll kill me", Bullweather piped like a small child, "they know everything!"  "Who, damn your eyes, who knows everything?" shouted Marringer, pressing his face into the banker's.  Slowly, eyes sliding about in panic, Bullweather raised his hand, pointing in the general direction of the Master's desk.  Turning in frustration, the three men looked about for what their prisoner meant to show them.  Eyes rising, picking out details of the carvings behind and above the desk, Marringer spotted it first; eyes suddenly widening, he could not prevent a gasp from escaping his lips.  The two men flanking him appeared puzzled, not comprehending the significance.

In careful bas-relief in the basalt wall above the windows, an artist had rendered perhaps the most well-known, but least understood, of the masonic symbols - a pyramid of antique Aegypt, crowned by the All-Seeing Eye, wreathed in rays of light.

Good lord, he thought to himself, can it be true? Turning back to Bullweather, by now tittering like a madman and nodding vigorously at Marringer's questioning gaze, the architect instructed Caulfield to confine him below the temple and delay his notification of the authorities until instructed further.  The Chief Warden and Tyler exchanged glances, but knew better than to disobey a ranking Master Mason, and left Marringer alone to contemplate the droplets of blood still on the Master's desk, some having landed on the notes delivered by Grey.  Speaking of which, he thought, withdrawing the oilskin package from his frockcoat, I believe it's time. Cracking the resin casing and peeling back the oilskin, yellowed with age but intact, he uncovered a leather-bound diary with gilt-edged pages.  Carefully opening the cover so as not to break the spine, he made out faded writing in a flowing hand:

On The Earth's Original Population By Ancient Beings Not of Our World - An Investigation Into Same On Behalf of the Ancient Order of Freemasons.

Being the findings of Professor A.E. Van Vogt, RAS, AOF, MNOG  

Begun this Day of Our Lord November 16, 1835 under the Light of the Comet.

Honi Soit Qui Mal Y Pense

My god, thought Marringer, closing both the diary and his eyes.  The Illuminati.

[Cornelius Nightshade]

Word reached the Governors office that Badger was “making ready” Vilkaus was given his final instructions and escorted to the port wear his things had already been sent.

Vilkaus, was still a little stunted by the interview with Sir Duncan. The same thing kept running across his mind. “ Me!, you want ME to do what?!, I am a botanist dammit not a spy! I cant do that!?”

He had wanted to say all thoes things but he never did. He only nodded like an idiot and agreed to do everything that Sir Duncan had asked of him. What had he gotten himself into!

He stopped long enough to write down the name Sir Duncan had given him in his note book. Sir Richard Stewart-Clark of The Clark Cassy and Doullin Brothers Law firm, Syrtis Major, Mars.

 “Call on this man if you get into trouble or have anything to report.” Sir Duncan had said.

Trouble?,,Trouble!  Botanist don’t get into trouble!

Vilkaus ran the rest of the way to the ship.

[MWBailey]

Bailey and Nightshade came out of the maintenance corridor at the place where the Bridge-forward gravitic rotation segment meshed with the 'Midships segment. the two were just  beginning to counter- rotate for takeoff stability, the safety/blast doors just closing as the portcullis-like safety gates rattled downward; on the far side, the guards had taken up defensive positions whilst Bilstrupp and Arguild confronted someone in the entertainment lounge, and several hardy-souled passengers looked on. Bailey looked out of a window on an impulse and saw the low, wickedly-compact form of the Adler bing pulled from the hangar below. "would you lookit that! I wish I had been wrong, and I still hope I am, but they're taking one of the German cruisers out of their hanger, down there.

Nightshade looked, and paled visibly. "it looks as if it might become a deathmatch grudge-race to Mars," he said. Bailey led the way to and through the Zero Shaft artigrav hallways and into the Midships segment.

They came out next to Arguild and Bilstrupp; Bailey asked, "Whats going on? they put up a fight, yet?"

Arguild answered, "Unfortunately, yes; your looey caught them just as they entered this segment from Steerage-Aft, and yelled at them to give themselves up. Not the smartest move, but you can't say he doesn't have guts for all his laziness -- or did." Arguild nodded at a rubber-sheet-covered form to one side of the segment's foyer. "That's him, under the sheet; he had the drop on them, but hesitated. They didn"t. They opened up, and had him on the deck in seconds; Bilstrupp shot one in the leg, and the other in the left hand, but they're still holding out. He shuddered, slightly, but it seemed he did it more out of anger than revulsion "Don't recommend looking under the sheet, what's left of 'im ain't pretty."

Arguild went on to add, "The Commander says you're not a Brass Officer, but you're still next in line as far as he's concerned, if he gets it, 'cause of your seniority and the fact you've already survived two firefights under him."

"The second one was a flash-and-dash," Bailey said, "Not a real fight at all." His voice was matter-of-fact, but a discerning onlooker could have felt the nearly-palpable anger behind the words.

Bilstrupp turnmed away from addressing the two Germans, who were holed up in the lounge, behind an overturned table and the solidly-built bar. "Don't care, you're the only person on here besides me, Arguild and your Lieutenant who has any combat experience." as he finished those words, the two Germans reopened fire, striking no one , but causing a great deal of havoc amongst the onlookers. "DAMMIT! Bailey, Nightshade, Arguild, let's go, we'll end this now, us four charge 'em, THE REST OF YOU! COVERING FIRE!"

Bailey tossed Nightshade his Webley, and then followed the Commander, who counted down to three; then, they simply moved in, Arguild,  Nightshade and Bailey skirting to the sides, the Commander in the middle, all four shooting (Nightshade using Bailey's Webley) as they went, using the available cover, what there was of it (mostly tables, chairs,and planters), and shooting back as the two Germans opened fire once again. A withering rate of blaster fire from the other guards at the foyer pummelled the bar and overturned table, and soon the table was naught but smoldering and flaming splinters, when Bailey suddenly grabbed an alcohol accent-lamp from a table, yanked the top off, stuffed a wad of his torn shirt into the top, lit it with a slow burn from the blaster in his hand, and then threw it.

The glass shattered, and the alcohol caught fire, as did the heavier-set of the two Germans, who stood, screaming, firing wildly point-blank at Bailey, until Nightshade opened fire, distracting him with the rubber bullets, and then Bilstrupp cut him down, five shots going into the big fellow's chest. The second suddenly exploded unexpectedly from behind a planter several feet to one one side,  at Bailey, wielding what looked like a commando dagger of abnormal length, and made a sideways jab at Nightshade, who sidestepped nimbly as Bailey pulled the Khukuri, ducked the German's wild slash, spun the khukhuri in-hand to upwards, and brought it up, into, and through the pit of his opponent's knife-arm, slashing it to uselessness, and then reversing his grip and stabbing him in the chest, then pulling his blade free. He stood back, and watched as the man crumpled to the ground, expiring quickly; he would soon be beyond taking any further action at all.

Bailey stooped and disarmed the man, and also took a "noisy cricket"  aether pistol from the man's inner coat pocket and tossed it to Nightshade, thus retrieving his Webley, which he holstered; such tiny-giant rayguns were favorites among the European spy community, he had recalled, and it had turned out to be right where he thought it would be.

"Well, at least they're not going to be a problem anymore," he said.

"Bilstrupp to bridge: disturbance neutralized. Mission accomplished, I Shot one bogie, Bailey responded in kind to a blade attack and cut the other assailant down with his ...er, what is that thing called, Bailey?

"Khukhuri, sir."

"Right, with his Kookurry...whatever. Bilstrupp out."

[Alexis Voltaire]

A few minutes later the officer came out of Corwell's office. He said simply "the governer will see you now." and showed him into the room before closing the door.

Sir Duncan Corwell greeted him warmly, and motioned for Frank to sit down one of the high backed wooden chairs in front of his desk. Frank sat down, and waited for an explanation as to why he had been called here in the middle of the night. The governor looked tired as well, and worried about something.

"I have just gotten some rather... unsettling news." Corwell paused a minute and rearranged some papers, some of them probably confidential, on his desk. "You are probably wondering why I asked you here so late."

"Indeed, I was."

"Yes. You are a member of the Royal Botanical Society, and as such, are afforded certain privileges and respect by the British government, and of the governments of your adopted countries. Your members are also known to have little to do with political affairs, unlike so many other scientific communities." He gave Frank a slightly questioning look.

"Indeed that is true, sir."

"The real reason I asked you here is partly because of that. I received word that you were asked by the Botanical Society to depart on the Badger, for the purpose of going to Mars to handle some problems that have arisen there. As you are probably unaware of the stories currently being discussed by certain officials, I will tell you this as straight as I can."

"There are certain passengers and crew aboard the Badger that I believe are up to something nefarious. I do not have any proof of this, or I would have them detained here until I could find out what it was. One of their officers was trying to bring a man by the name of Nightshade back to the ship, who had apparently slipped out somehow without authorization. The officer was attacked in the port while trying to bring him in. He was able to capture his attacker, and we are holding him now, but he refuses to give me any names or information. I suspect he is in with this Nightshade somehow, but it is only that: a suspicion. Nightshade apparently sent coded messages to mars and earth just before he was taken back to the ship."

"What is Nightshade traveling on the Badger for, if I might ask?"

"Cornelius Nightshade is a financier from Lloyd's of London, and he's involved in the Badger's construction contract as well as some other finances. I have also gotten reports that he was attacked just after the ship landed, by a young lady with the name of Curious. She apparently signed onto the Badger's crew just before the ship left port on Earth. There have been several more incidents, some of them involving the ship's crew, that look like they are separate from one another, but there have been too many of them for me to give them up as unrelated."

Corwell sighed.

"Time is short, as the Badger is scheduled to take off tomorrow. I don't know what Nightshade might be up to. You heard about him in the papers no doubt? Made himself out to be quite the hero." He cast a glance at the daily paper on his desk. "I've no doubt he was capable of what he's crowing about, but men of his type are more interested in looking out for themselves than anyone else. He may have done it as a stunt, to help with something he's up to, I don't know. apparently it may have gotten him out of some trouble. I have requested that an inquiry be made as to the nature of this, as it is the only thing I am capable of officially doing. Even more... unofficial sources of information have not yielded much more than what appears to be a cover story."

"I need someone to keep an eye on the passengers and crew on the Badger, particularly those I have mentioned. I need especially someone that they wouldn't see as being involved with their plans, for or against. I cannot send anyone in my employ without arousing suspicion."

Frank considered this. He never imagined he'd be asked to spy for the lunar government. But Corwell was right, the Botanical Society's members could do certain things that would cause questions to arise for anyone else.

"Alright Governor, I accept." He said with a slight feeling of dread. What in hell had he gotten into now?

---

Frank returned to the research station around midnight, and he was far too busy thinking about what he had just agreed to, to even think about going to bed. If the Badger was leaving tomorrow, there were some things he'd need to get done.

---

He packed the last few things he needed in a large bag and prepared to take them down to be loaded on the Badger. He'd packed a trunk and had it loaded when the ship landed, but he was always forgetting things

Before he left for the port, he stopped to pick up a slim dart pistol from the top drawer of his nightstand. he pulled the thin clip out to check it, and saw that it was fully loaded. The pistol was operated by a rechargeable compressed air cylinder that that fitted under the small barrel. It fired a grooved solid steel dart that was coated with the concentrated sap of pyracantha indiius, the indian firethorn. It wasn't lethal, but it took effect almost instantaneously, and was incapacitating for up to half an hour. Fully loaded and recharged, it held twenty darts and the cylinder was good for forty. It made an excellent deterrent for dangerous animals and people, and many scientific researchers carried them in the field.

he fished a battered shoulder holster out of the drawer and strapped it on, putting his coat on over it. the pistol's slim form was barley noticeable. He wasn't expecting trouble, but from what he'd heard from Corwell, he had better once he was on the Badger.

---

A thought occurred to him, and it wasn't because of worry. it was more like instinct, something he couldn't ignore, and right now that instinct was screaming at him to do something he'd never thought he'd seriously consider.

He opened his rarely-used closet, and spent several minutes removing dusty boxes and stacking them haphazardly on the floor. He wasn't even sure what all this stuff was, or what it was doing in here. the closet was also a lot bigger than he remembered too, and after taking out what he thought would be the last of the boxes he found even more boxes behind them. He'd been just about to give up and look somewhere else, but all the way in the back he found what he was looking for.

a polished mahogany case was leaned up against the back wall, apparently no worse for the long neglect. he pulled it out and blew a thin coating of dust off of it. the brass clasps were still as smooth-working as the last time he'd seen them, and they opened with a snap. The inside of the case was lined with red velvet, and on it rested a strange looking rifle. He took it out of the case carefully. For it's size, it was surprisingly light in his hands.

the thick barrel was polished to a mirror finish, and made out of a solid piece of metal that looked like aluminum. there was a slim adjustable tube-scope mounted on top of it, made of polished brass. several complicated looking knobs of various sizes were mounted on it, as well as a switch. the triggergaurd was made of blued steel, and had elegantly designed finger grips. inside the triggergaurd and in front of the trigger was the bottom edge of a small disk-shaped adjusting mechanism that was set into the action. on the right side of the stock, just above the trigger, was a small brass knob. the stock itself was simple, made of a single piece of dark polished wood. the fore end of the stock was thick, and carved with deep diagonal forward-pointing grooves. there was a quarter inch gap between it and the barrel.

there was an oval blued-steel plate on the back of the stock, secured in place by a round latch with a thin slightly-raised bar on it. He turned the latch, releasing a catch in the plate. the plate came out easily, and under it was more of the unusual light-colored metal, with an empty round hole in it. he picked up a power cell from the table, about six inches long by one wide, with two silver terminals at one end. he dropped it in the hole, and turned it slightly until it set down flush with the metal. he replaced the plate on the back with some difficulty, as the stiff spring on the back now held the cell tightly in place.

he held it up to his shoulder, and turned the brass knob beside the trigger until it clicked. the rifle hummed, and then quieted. he flicked the switch on the scope and looked through it. just underneath the scope veiw, a tiny light illuminated the top of the disk mechanism that was in front of the trigger. the disk was slightly yellowed, but the numbers on it were easily readable. he turned the bottom of the disk with his finger, clicking past each number and back again, checking that it still worked. There was no time or place to fully test it, but he had no reason to doubt it was still in perfect working order. he moved it from his shoulder and clicked the brass knob off again.

He removed the power cell, and then placed the rifle back carefully in the case. removing the velvet lining from the lid, and pressed a hidden latch on the inside of the case. a small compartment opened in the false bottom, and he placed four charged power cells into it. he closed the compartment and replaced the lining, and then shut the case and secured the latches.

He looked at the case for a minute as it sat on the table. It looked like any other rifle case, about four feet long with brass corner guards. But the damn thing shouldn't even exist. Of the ten that had originally been built as prototypes, five had disappeared into the hands of various governments and either been destroyed or locked away in underground vaults. even the highest ranking people didn't know about them. three had been destroyed for certain, and one had gone missing, though it was unknown where and when it had disappeared. the scientist who had them built had gone missing too, shortly after their first demonstration.

it was a piece of forbidden history, and he just couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to take it with him.

---

He got down to the port around three AM, but the area around the Badger was full of activity. The port workers didn't like having to shorten the schedule by a day, and there was a lot of cargo that needed loading on the ship. He left the stuff that needed to be loaded with a pile of other luggage. There were several passenger still bringing in luggage and boarding the ship. Apparently he wasn't the only one surprised by the early departure. He signed for the equipment needed for the research station and drove it back, leaving it just inside the back door. he had just enough time to get an early breakfast and fly down to the port. the last few passenger were boarding early.

He'd also been able to get a place for Shi-iri aboard the ship. Hunting on dragonback over the martian plains was a popular sport for government officials and the rich, and they got fussy about having to send their dragons and drakes on freighter ships. Many of the newer commercial liners had accommodations for them, the Badger included.

---

Frank had been about to head back to the research station for a few things he had forgotten, when he heard the ship's bell. What in... they're an hour early, at least!

He saw the huge turbines beginning to turn, and he ran for the ship, very glad that he had gotten the last of his luggage loaded a few hours before. He was able to make it just before the boarding ramp was raised, and hurried onto the ship just a few minutes before it took off. next time I'll get on a day early... or sooner. He found himself thinking as he stood in the hallway trying to catch his breath.

[Cornelius Nightshade]

To Mr. Nightshades credit he got past the skirmish and the mop up. Even managed to excuse himself in good form and “return to his state room to clean up” before becoming violently ill.

 After the initial shock of being drawn into that insane shoot out by ” that homicidal lunatic Bailey”  had past. Then Nightshade was free to settle down to a more comfortable state of trembling wildly with terror.

What in gods name was I thinking!
 
{“The Foreign Office dose not give this kind of an assignment to men who cant handle all possible contingences, Yes, I can fight if it comes to it.” }

“Nightshade old boy, if you ever say anything so asinine again so help me god Ill put a bullet in my own head!

Well, I had to tell that that raging Bailey something, and it did explain all the strange turns to date, it got him off my back for a bit at least. Humm, I think he may feel rather put out when he finds out that it was a cock and bull story. I almost forgot!, The two germens,,, who are those two working for I wonder?”

Then to Nightshades utter relief the unmistakable sounds of the ships engines being powered up brought him back to the present.

“ Ahh finally! Were getting out of hear, Its about bloody time! “

[Theosophus Grey]

Having sent MacTavish back to his duties as Chief Engineer, and heard Bilstrupp's radio report on the skirmish with the Germans, Grey observed the growing earthrise through the glass nose of the Badger and turned to the navigator's station.  "Moreau, plot a speed course for Mars - one that doesn't involve meteors", he added with a wry grin.  "Oui, mon capitan" the petit, darkhaired woman replied, rotating the bezel on the great brass aether compass and beginning her sliderule calculations.

"Mr. Lemming", Grey called over his shoulder as he checked the radiograph himself for bogies, "Warm up the aether engine, and stand by to disengage aerial thrusters."  "Aye, sir", Lemming called back, jacking the handle on the engine room telegraph back and around, a low bell sounding as it passed each blue-lettered aerial speed setting and stopped on the first of the gold-limned panels - Engage Aether.  Grey felt the familiar hum in the deckplates as the stellar drive began its collection of the intangible aether; it was several minutes before it reached saturation, and began to turn the massive twin screws fixed just aft of the engine room.  "All ahead full, Mr. Lemming" he called, having checked Moreau's recommended plot on the back-lit map table.

Safely underway, Grey turned to larger matters.  Pity they couldn't have taken one the Germans alive, he mused as he stepped down the gangway to the ready room; but from the sound of it, they were hell bent on avoiding capture at all cost.  Dan having retired to his stateroom once more upon Grey's return, the acting captain sat at the desk and plucked the speaking tube from its hook behind him, blowing hard into the mouthpiece.  "Central!  Give me the Security Office.  Bilstrupp, is that you?  Good.  If your man Bailey is through inspecting the German's remains, have him collect Nightshade and Curious and report to me here - no, no 'escort' this time, it appears we're all in the soup together for now.  We just all need to have a word before we get to Mars."  Returning the mouthpiece to its hook, Grey rubbed his eyes, and wondered when he last had more than an hour's sleep.  

About to shout for the yeoman to get him some coffee, he recalled with a start that Perkins was still posted to watch Major Dan, but hadn't reported in despite the fact the the Major had been here in the ready room the entire time Grey was off the ship earlier.  Damned unlike her, Grey thought; l'll have Bailey pick her up on their way forward.

[Zuttle D. Curious]

    I suppose that went well... I didn't expect Bailey to let me off like that after running from the captain during a questioning and assaulting two guards... Zuttle's stomache growled. Hmmm. I suppose that means the best next stop is the Dining hall. And there would be passengers with information there too. Dining hall it is then.

    "Enjoy your dinner!" the waitress smiled as she set the plate before Zuttle and turned to do something else. Zuttle quietly ate her dinner, trying to listen to people talk around her.
    "It's a good thing they let Mr. Nightshade out of his room."
    "Yes, It wasn't a very polite thing to keep him in there."
    "No! I mean, yes, but That's not why!"
    "Oh?"
    "I heard he helped Mr. Bailey and two others take down two rough German fellows who were getting violent."
    "That's Nightshade for you." The man paused. "A real hero. Even helping the Security officer do his job."
    "It was a real intense fight too. New weird kinda guns I heard. Even with that kind of an advantage, they still lost the fight, their lives too, I hear." Zuttle coughed choking on her food at this remark. She cleared her throat and kept listening.
    "I heard the same, that the bodies are in the Security office as we speak."
    What did they want with Nightshade? They opted to talk rather than attack Nightshade when they found him. That looks more like they want something from him. I wonder if they work with Whoever Nightshade works with? No. Nightshade hit them rather rudely ...and ran. That's not exactly a good working business relationship if you ask me. Why were the Germans  suddenly so eager to fight? I know it was them who started it, Bailey just isn't the type to pick a fight unprovoked like that. What did they want?
    No more useful information was coming, and she had finished her dinner, so she left. They are dead now. And it's very likely Security is swarming around their rooms trying to figure out anything they can. By the time they are done going over it with a fine toothed comb, I'll have nothing too look over. Best to Leave this trail cold, at least for now until I get some new leads.