Panache and the Curious Affair of the Gin and Tonic

[davedove]

Madame Pleater continued “ In each of these universes lined up next to each other there are some threads that define the pattern or tartan if you prefer. Captain Panache is one of them. There may be subtle variations but Captain Panache is always going to be a well dressed, polite, honorable, though vain and pompous individual with a tendency to digress and drink gin and tonics. He is always going to be part of the League of the Moderators, and he will always be Captain of a ship called the Saltire. Just like in all these universes Grant is going to be a well dressed, pert-buttocked, blond-maned, strange-acting, megalomaniac, rubber chicken enthusiast with delusions of Royalty and a ship called the Maple Leaf."

Interesting, so my team and I have managed to stumble across the one dimension where Panache and Grant do not fit this pattern. Or perhaps they did fit the pattern, but Panache's untimely death in that world somehow turned the sett assymetrical in that dimension.

[starbkjrus]

My my. I think I"m going to have to retire to the study with some strong ale and a good dram or two to contemplate these revelations.

[davedove]

Though it is possible probability that universes exist without the Jamie/Grant dynamic, they would be a regularly occuring irregularity that forms part of this Cosmic sett. Though I doubt if one could get a decent creme brule' in one these rather odd dimensions”

I don't know about that, but I have it on good authority that they frequently serve a rather bland oatmeal for breakfast.

[davedove]

My my. I think I"m going to have to retire to the study with some strong ale and a good dram or two to contemplate these revelations.

How do you think the original theory was formulated.

[Panache]

Panache and the Curious Affair of the Gin and Tonic:

A Victorian Serial told in Chapters

Chapter 6 (Part 1)

The next few days were filled with frantic activity for all of us. Though in truth I should be wary to use the term “day” or any of the vernacular relating to time, as we discovered when we reached the massive walnut grandfather clock down the hall from the Library. This impressive timepiece concealed the entrance to one of the many hidden elevators and secret passageways that filled the Great Golden Hall of X Marks the Scot. As I reached out to a particular carved sheep that formed part of the clock’s decoration I noted that it had stopped just after 4 o‘clock. What was unnerving was that pendulum was stopped mid swing instead of resting in the center of its arc as it should have. Instinctively we all checked our various pocket and wrist watches to find they were all stopped at just past 4:00. Even more unsettling was Colin’s discovery. On checking his very modern wrist watch (that made him feel particularly clever due to its use of lighted display of digits instead of a face and hands, though these were now frozen at 4:01:46 PM) he held his left wrist in his right hand. His eyes grew wide and he immediately felt his chest. “Your heartbeat, check your heartbeat!“ he gasped.

Not one of us had a pulse or heartbeat.

“Does this mean we are dead?“ asked Arlen.

Trefor answered, “No lad, we are just outside of Reality which means we are also outside of time.

“Then how are we alive? “ asked Colin.

Trefor pointed to myself and then the waist plate I wore. “It may very well be that at this moment we all exist more as a concepts in Jamie’s sub conscious mind than as living entities. A lot of existence is based on perception.”

“That does not make any sense at all!” complained Arlen.

The Welshman sighed. “Look would it make it any easier if I just said ‘It’s very complicated‘ , and left it at that?”

Arlen replied immediately “YES!”

Trefor shook his head “Arlen, It’s very complicated”

Arlen said “Oh , well then that's alright. Thank you”


I pressed the carved sheep and the clock slid aside, we entered the elevator, and descended into the bowels of the mountain underneath the Hall. A short ride in one of David’s monorail trains took us to the huge underground hangar of the zeppelin Saltire.

In a great cavern she lay. The hangar had been blasted out of the solid rock of the mountain to form an enormous hidden hangar for my airship. The Saltire was perhaps the largest and greatest airship ever to be built. Her canvas “skin” was bright blue with a large white cross amidships which gave her her name. She was powered by 8 massive Maybach engines turning an equal number of mighty propellers from nacelles that jutted along her lower sides. Numerous rooms including a grand salon/observation deck were located inside her hull though she was controlled from the front gondola that was her bridge. This dirigible was armed with batteries of Vickers machine guns, bomb racks, a small squadron of Sparrow Hawk biplanes that could be launched and retrieved mid air, and virtually unlimited supply of hot coffee for her crew. This was provided via an elaborate system of pipes and tubes that ran throughout the ship. The system, invented by a famed kilt maker and coffee drinker Steve Ashton, provided an efficient cooling system for the engines while offering piping hot coffee from numerous spigots throughout the ship.

David and Todd, shortly before their disappearance, had just finished updating the zeppelin’s equipment. Todd with radar and a small armory, and David with a rack of deadly missiles, and a most ingenious machine of his own design. This device ionized water vapor in the air around the ship’s hull to create an “artificial cloud”. A collapsible periscope could be lowered from the bridge for viewing purposes while the airship was concealed.

The Saltire was moored in the hangar facing outwards toward the huge hangar doors (which from the outside looked much like a smooth formation of rock). When docking these camouflaged doors slowly swung open and observers from the rear gun battery would signal the bridge crew with directions as the zeppelin was slowly backed in toward the huge opening in the mountainside. A heavy mooring tower traveled the length of the hangar along railroad tracks set into the floor. This mobile tower was moved forward to the edge of the cavern and there attached to the Saltire’s aft end. Then it slowly pulled the airship back into the hangar. A second mooring structure descended from the roof to secure her at the nose. The doors would slowly close and no evidence of the airship or hangar remained to the outside observer.

This entire complex operation required a well trained crew of at least thirty people. Taking her out shouldn’t require nearly so many. If I was very careful and very lucky I myself could pilot her out with Colin, Arlen running one starboard engine and Trefor and Spasm operating one port one.

If I was very lucky.

Looking at my magnificent airship, I couldn’t escape the conclusion that our mission was doomed from the start.

The regular complement of the Saltire’s crew was 80 individuals, not including security personnel or the officers.

I might, just might, be able to launch my airship.

But I wouldn’t be able to fly her and certainly not fight her.

My companions were already eagerly opening the crates from the MHICE. Again I held my tongue and went to join them in their efforts.


* * *

[Panache]

Panache and the Curious Affair of the Gin and Tonic:

A Victorian Serial told in Chapters

Chapter 6 (Part 2)

Without the aid of our timepieces and without day or night is was impossible to tell how long it took us to install the complicated machinery. Trefor carefully assembled the “needle” device in a small room in the main hull above the gondola. The rest of us had to lay hundreds of feet of power lines from it to the ship's eight engines. We worked till we were exhausted, ate when we were hungry, and occasionally slept. The dreamless nature of our sleep somehow didn’t refresh us as it should.

Once the power lines had been routed we prepared the airship for flight. This wasn’t terribly difficult as I liked to keep the Saltire ready to leave at a moment's notice. She was fully fueled and held provisions for a full crew. Still with only Arlen, Colin, and myself to check over an airship hundreds of feet long even the simple preflight checks took a long time to complete. Spasm’s contribution, save tea and sandwiches, was the discovery of an old hand cranked phonograph and a few dusty records in the attic of the great Golden Hall. Our musician crew often played while we were flying and Spasm seemed to feel that our voyage should not want entirely for music. Mr. Tibbles the badger looked at our efforts with indifference and had set to work gnawing on an armoire in the parlor he had had his eye on for some time.

The “needle” device was a brilliant wheel-like machine of some silver metal, not unlike a miniature carousel , some 6 feet in diameter. It rotated slowly clockwise. Instead of painted wooden animals, a series of crystal balls of various sizes spun and moved up and down twelve sliver poles around its circumferences. In the center of the machine was a curious and delicate looking device that resembled a spider of silver wire and glass. It spun anti clockwise while its Twelve thin arm moved in a slow seemingly random pattern. Each arm pieced numerous smaller crystal spheres that also spun as they moved along the arms. A control box was mounted on a table nearby containing literally hundreds of small levers.

Trefor had diligently followed the instructions that had been provided for the machines’ assembly. The poor Welshman had become beside himself soon after completing the device as he couldn’t find a table of probable settings to calibrate it. He enlisted our aid to search for it. Eventually Arlen found them stapled to the underside of the lid of one of the crates. Trefor was absolutely certain that it hadn’t been there before. Taking the table he locked himself into the room with the strange machine and set to work adjusting it, emerging only every now and then to drink large amounts of whisky, swear, or sing Welsh songs. All of which, he later explained, were vital in assisting him with his calculations. After much work (and several empty bottles of single malt) Trefor announced the machine was ready.

We gathered at the hangar before our ship ready to start our voyage. Trefor had donned a kilt in the tartan named after the Patron Saint of Wales and wore a shirt, cap, hose, and jacket in lovat green to match it. Colin proudly sported his Mackenzie tartan kilt and a wore a black Canadian hockey jersey. In addition he carried a hockey stick.

“What’s with the hockey stick? “ inquired Trefor.

“It is part of my Canadian heritage. It serves as a reminder of the great athletes who were my childhood heroes and inspired me as a child with their fortitude and strength. In an uncertain time such as this, it is a symbol of the rugged determination that characterizes Canada and assuages my sense of loss …”

Trefor raised an eyebrow.

“…it is also very useful to smack people over the head with.” Colin admitted.


Arlen, perhaps being influenced by Trefor wore a kilt in the Heritage of Wales tartan and a very familiar looking bright red tunic with badge above his heart shaped like a target.

I groaned inwardly.

“Jamie I found this absolutely wonderful pullover on the ship! It’s absolutely fantastic with this tartan! “

“That would be a Security Ensign uniform Arlen…” I began.

“IS IT! WOW! CAN I BE A SECURITY ENSIGN? OH MAY I? MAY I PLEASE?” he enthusiastically pleaded.

I sighed and nodded .

Spasm was dressed in his usual black tail coated butler’s uniform (which I imagined had originally been made in the early 1800’s) and carried what appeared to be a hubcap instead of a silver tray. Colin had slipped on Mr. Tibbles formal spiked collar for the occasion and the badger was currently gnawing on one of Spasm‘s shoes. The aged retainer didn‘t seem to notice.

For myself I had chosen to dress in the manner of those brave Scottish regiments when they were dispatched to the wild unknown of tropical climes. My kilt was of the Black Watch tartan and I had paired it with tan hose, safari shirt, brown sporran and leather accessories, red flashes and pith helmet. I had stuck a brown leather braided horsetail fly whisk given to me by my beautiful wife in my thick belt for luck.

We were as ready as we were going to be.

I was about to give the order to embark when the shimmering image of Madam Pleater appeared.

It nodded approvingly at us. “Good work gentleman. I apologize Trefor for forgetting the probable settings. Mr. Brown was able to pop in back in time and get them to you. Did you have any problems with your calculations? “

“Only the hangover” replied the Welshman rubbing his temples.

“Madam Pleater”, I interrupted.

“We are as ready as we can be. But you must know that it is going to be virtually impossible to fly this zeppelin with only five people and a badger!”

Madam Pleater adjusted her glasses and nodded.

“Indeed I do, but Mr. Brown is a resourceful fellow and has found a crew that should prove quite satisfactory in this great endeavor.”

“Where are you going to find a crew that knows this ship as well mine did?“

The image smiled and there was a great flash of light.

The hangar was filled with a crowd of kilt wearing men with neatly trimmed beards.

They all wore the Black Watch tartan

…and safari shirts

…and pith helmets

As I stared they moved as one...


...and eighty Panaches turned to face me and snapped a salute!









To be continued.

[davedove]

...and eighty Panaches turned to face me and snapped a salute!

Boy, talk about writing yourself a bigger part.

[Pleater]

Oh no, they are all identical to the original, I ***...

Oh - you mean

Good thing this is all fantastical.

Madam Pleater

General Director MHICE

[Southern Breeze]

[Wompet]

Looking at my magnificent airship, I couldn’t escape the conclusion that our mission was doomed from the start.

Now, Jamie, remember - think positively.

Trefor pointed to myself and then the waist plate I wore. “It may very well be that at this moment we all exist more as a concepts in Jamie’s sub conscious mind than as living entities. A lot of existence is based on perception.”

If this is the case, think very positively.