Following on from Part 8:
'This
has been done to a ridiculously short timescale for a field trip,'
complained Engineer Macrig as he led Adrig and Edrig towards their
transportation pod.
'We
have adapted it to look like a modest 717 vehicle,' Macrig continued,
'but as for all the fussy procedures, you are pretty much on your
own. The licence is just a poor copy, for example, and no vehicle insurance documentation. It's crazy this
short notice, but the Lady Lord has deemed it a top priority. What
can be the urgency?'
'I
really have no idea,' said Adrig, while smiling inwardly about his
promise to bring her back one or two long-lasting passionate
footballers. Concern or planning for that aspect of the mission had
not intruded into his mind yet.
Edrig,
on the other hand, was worrying as usual.
'Can
it actually function as a motor vehicle?' he asked, while looking at
the big ugly dark blue fake 717 van with a badge reading “Ford” on the front.
'Not
at all!' Engineer Macrig exclaimed. 'It has just been very hastily
reconfigured to look like one. It will be stuck wherever you arrive
until you depart. Well... the wheels will turn, but you would have to
push it, which would not be easy. So you better configure yourself to
land at a suitable parking place.'
'Can
you do that?' Edrig asked Adrig, and Adrig assured him that he had
all the coordinates worked out, while rather looking, it seemed to
Edrig, as if he had little idea how to do it at all. Adrig's
overconfidence and lack of forward planning was a worry to Edrig.
Pretty much everything was a worry to Edrig.
'No
bother. No matter,' Adrig confidently declared. 'We'll not be down
there long. Just in and out, having some fun in-between. I mean,
eh... completing our mission, that is.'
'And
the mission?' asked Macrig, 'What is the mission?'
'Do
you need to know,' Adrig replied, with a superior tone. 'It's a need to
know mission.'
'Well
then all I have kitted you out with is standard gear, so I hope that
is sufficient since I don't need to know anything more.'
'What
is standard gear?' Edrig asked, since Adrig appeared uninterested in
that issue.
'Just
the standard stuff from your basic training. You remember?'
'Of
course,' Edrig lied, but then was relieved that the engineer did at
least reel off a list, reciting, 'Two stunners set to 717 levels, two
communicators, the Basic1 versions, some cash notes for the UK, as
requested, and one forged credit card good for about 10 thousand and
maybe seven days before they are likely to detect it. A basic rain
gown and warmth gown, all packed in 717-style wheeled suitcases,
and... that's about it. Oh, a little food and drink but not much.
Very minimal. Not what I would want. Not what I would want at all.'
'Perfect,'
pronounced Adrig. 'We'll be fine. A small hotel, simple food, new
clothes if required. Perfect. We'll be there a couple of days at
most.'
'The
stunners,' asked Edrig, 'Will they debilitate a footballer or two long
enough to get them transported back?'
'A
footballer?' enquired the engineer. 'Or two? What the hell is a
footballer? And nobody told me this was a pursuit and capture
mission. Just a brief and basic field trip I was told.'
'Nothing
you need to know my friend,' Adrig assured him, while looking rather
sternly towards Edrig. 'If we need more we will nip back and get it
eh?'
'Nip
back? Nip back!' exclaimed the engineer with an obvious sense of
professional outrage. 'Have you any idea how sophisticated this
transportation process is, or how much technology is required? Nip
back!'
'Oh...
Not really,' Adrig conceded. 'I am not a technical type you know.
Nothing so manual. I am a sociological analyst, and Edrig is a
historian.'
'Oh,'
responded Engineer Macrig, rather sneeringly Edrig thought. 'A
sociological analyst and a historian. That'll come in handy if your
tunnelling translator coil becomes untwisted while you're out there,
eh?'
'The
damn thing works, doesn't it?' Adrig demanded, assuming his I
outrank you tone. 'And we have emergency procedures available
for extraction don't we?'
'Ach,
you'll be fine, as you said, and it's all in the manual,' Macrig
assured him, but rather insincerely, it seemed to Edrig. 'Just don't
mess it up though lads, or the Lady Lord and her minions will be
having your bollocks for breakfast and your arses with afternoon
tea.'
'OK
then,' announced Adrig, ignoring Macrig's comment. 'Let's go!'
'Looking
like that?' asked Macrig, as he surveyed the extravagant and
colourful Sample 717 1970's style clothing.
'Of
course looking like this,' affirmed Adrig. 'We need to fit in
unobtrusively you know. We don't want to look out of place.'
Oh dear. Poor Adrig, poor Edrig. I am looking foward to seeing the catastrophy unfold. Which makes me feel a tad guilty - it has all the hall marks of a slow moving train wreck...
ReplyDeleteThey'll probably feel very much at home if they drop in New York!
ReplyDeleteThey've arrived! But not in New York. See Part 10, if you wish.
ReplyDelete