Panache and the Curious Affair of the Gin and Tonic

[Panache]

Panache and the Curious Affair of the Gin and Tonic

A Victorian Serial told in Chapters

Chapter 10



“What‘s our Status?” I asked Colin, my head becoming clearer.

“The ship got a little shaken up, but we made it through OK. All stations report normal”

“Any casualties?”

“Just one. An aft section spotter Panaches accidentally tripped and kicked Mr. Tibbles who was sleeping under one of Vickers Guns.

I shuddered “Were they able to save his leg?”

Colin nodded “He will be OK but he will be limping for a long time”

“Good” I nodded. Then wondering I asked “How long were all unconscious?”

Trefor spoke from his device the navigator’s station “Jamie you were the only one who blacked out”

“What?”

Colin nodded, “just as we reached the other side you collapsed”

Arlen added “You were only out for a few minutes. It was strange though , you kept saying “Black Pumps! Black Pumps!” over and over"

“Harrumph.. what is our location?” I asked the Navigator Panache

“Unknown at present Sir. According to the altimeter we are at a current height of 7000 feet. Weather is overcast with ceiling is estimated at 3000 feet" the navigator responded.

“Any sign of the Maple Leaf?

Trefor shook his head. “According to the finder here she is nearby, but that’s all. If she isn’t flying and using her crude universe skipping device I don’t think we can closely trace her with it”

“Communications, scan all channels see what you can get in” I ordered

“Aye Sir” said the Communications Panache donning his headphones

After a moment the Panache called “Sir I’m getting something!”

“On speaker” I instructed

Overt the bridge’s speakers came

“Come out of the garden, baby
You’ll catch your death in the fog
Young girl, they call them the diamond dogs
Young girl, they call them the diamond dogs”


Keep cool
Diamond dogs rule, ok
Hey-hey-hey-hey…”

“Diamond Dogs?” asked Colin?

“Given the current circumstances just be glad they aren't the Hounds of Tindalos I muttered

“What?” he replied

“Never mind. Navigation, lock onto that signal let’s see if we can come up with a position based on radio navigation”

“Aye Sir”

As the song finished “Beware of the Diamond Dogs, Beware of the Diamond Dogs...” a man’s English accented voice stated “That was the title track from the latest from David Bowie. Don’t forget that the Marc Bolan and T-Rex are playing at the London Palladium tonight!”

“I have our position Captain!" called the navigator and I motioned to silence the radio station.

“Where are we?”

“20 miles Southwest of London Sir!”

“Latest from David Bowie?” inquired Arlen incredulously.

“Indeed Arlen if the year is 1974!” cackled Trefor rubbing his hands together.

He continued, “I remember it well when it came out he played it on “Top of the Pops” though I was but a young student at St Andrews…”

“Trefor I think you just volunteered yourself."

“For what?" he asked

“A quick scouting trip”

“Shouldn’t we wait for further instructions from Madam Pleater?” asked Colin

“We could but I hate to miss our opportunity to find and stop Grant while we are waiting for her” I answered my Canadian friend.

“Helm take us take us down to 3000 feet” I ordered

“Won’t we still show up on radar? I’d hate for us to get shot down, the English have a thing about zeppelin's after all” worried Arlen

“Not to fear Arlen the nefarious Moderator David, known and feared under the moniker Freelander Sporrano made sure that our zeppelin and her fighters are radar invisible.”

“That’s great Jamie but why would he want that?" asked Arlen

“Don’t ask!” replied everyone on the bridge at once.

“Arlen, be a good fellow and activate the cloud cloak to prevent anyone from catching sight of us”

Arlen threw a few switches and within minutes our view became obscured by a thick cover of ionized water vapor.

“Navigator lower periscope.”

“Aye Sir”

I grabbed the speaker and announced to the crew “Attention all! We seem to arrived in England in the year 1974. We are headed for London and I and Trefor will do a brief reconnaissance”

Colin said “Your safari outfit may attract some attention Jamie”

“Not to worry on that count either Colin. The Saltire has an extensive wardrobe and costume supply. Trefor and I will outfit ourselves and blend in without a problem.”

To the Welshman I said “See you at the hangar in 20 minutes”

In my quarters I changed from my safari shirt and pith helmet into a simple yet handsome tweed day jacket and waistcoat. Adjusting my tie I grabbed my deerstalker hat and strode amidships to the hangar where I found Trefor.

The Welshman was there already

Trefor's idea of “blending in” was apparently substantially different than the one I had. In that he was wearing 3 inch platform red boots, tight metallic gold pants, a flowing silver shirt open at the throat ,and a long turquoise glittery jacket.

In addition he sported a huge wig of florescent orange hair and appeared to be wearing glittery makeup beneath a pair of huge oversized purple sunglasses.

He looked at me and with a smile said “Welcome to the Seventies Baby!”




To be continued

[starbkjrus]

(Haplessly stolen from Douglas Adams

"Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun. "



Methinks there is an Infinite Improbability Drive involved here...





Oh Zarquon!



Or perhaps just Austin Powers...

[McClef]

Wearing a deerstalker everyone back then would have thought you had a Sherlock Holmes fetish Jamie, whereas I could blend in with the natives effortlessly!

[Arlen]

Oh, this just gets better and better!

[davedove]

“Welcome to the Seventies Baby!”

Outside the reaches of normal space and time, in a seedy bar named the Floating Vagabond, the jukebox in the corner suddenly begins playing music first popular in the seventies (1970's that is).

"David Bowie?" asks the Herald Dove.

"Indeed," says the bartender Spasm. "It seems that progress is being made."

"What do you mean?"

"Here, let me show you." The bartender reached up and turned on the television behind the bar. On the screen was the crew of the Saltire.

"What is Trefor wearing???" the Herald Dove asked.

"Something to blend in," was the bartender's cryptic reply.

[BEEDEE]

On the screen was the crew of the Saltire.

"What is Trefor wearing???" the Herald Dove asked.

"Something to blend in," was the bartender's cryptic reply.

He was wearing a blender? Oster or Waring?


Brian

[McClef]

In the UK it would most likely have been a Kenwood back then.

[davedove]

Outside the reaches of normal space and time, in a seedy bar named the Floating Vagabond, two men sit and watch a small television above the bar. The jukebox in the corner plays music first popular in the seventies.

"Why is it taking them so long?" asks the Herald Dove.

"It really isn't taking as long as it seems," answers the bartender Spasm. "The conditions of this realm have a way of distorting one's sensation of the passage of time. In their time it has only been a few seconds."

"Interesting," the Herald said. He then glanced out the window and saw an unusual sight. Floating through the void was a small house. Inside the house were several men, dogs, and every variation between. It seemed that many of them were working on kilts.

"Is that Wompet?" he asked.

"That's Wompets, as in many of them. It seems that all the various versions of Wompet, from the many dimensions, have all gathered in that house. They're using their magic to maintain their own reality."

The Herald turned back to the television. "Am I going to run into some of my alternates?"

"It's possible. They would be much like you and may be wondering the void even now. If they are, they will eventually step through our door."

"Well, when they get here, I'll buy them a drink. Now, I do wish Jamie would hurry up."

[McClef]

Yes please! The wig is starting to itch!

[The F-H.C.A.G.]

I'm sorry everybody! Between volunteering 30-40 hours a week at the school, taking care of the kids, the house, me and the yard, gallivanting off to Canada (without me!), and keeping all of you in line, I'm afraid Jamie hasn't had much time to write stories.

I'll get right on him. After all, sleep is overrated!

Be well,