Shell Shocked (The Cosmic Carapace, #1) (14 page)

The palace stood to one side of the wide avenue he was looking down. It was more squat and long than Buckingham Palace, but just as imposing. He had no idea how they would ever get in there. The walls were at least fifteen foot high, and ran the perimeter of the grounds in a large square around the main house. In the middle of the city, getting over that wall would not be easy unnoticed, even if you could scale it somehow. He looked towards the large gates which sat at the front of the wall as it met the street. Two guards were there lounging against the warm yellow brick.

He needed to see what sort of security they had inside the walls, and the only way he was going to do that, was to get past those two guards and through the gate. He had spent the last fifteen minutes desperately thinking of something that would allow him in legitimately... and then he had it. He remembered that Lord Garsh was fond of cigars, and two streets back he had passed a small cigar shop. He smiled and turned back the way he had come.

~~~~

T
ony and Lance were two old pros when it came to guarding, which meant they had learnt, despite their mental limitations, that the best way to guard something, was to not move very much, and not notice anything. The beauty of this method of guarding was that it took very little energy, could be performed when slightly tipsy, and generally avoided any unpleasantness like having to deal with members of the public.

For this reason, when a strangely dressed man started approaching the men, they didn’t move. In fact, they both markedly looked in the opposite direction, to ensure they would not have to engage with him. Unfortunately he didn’t appear to notice.

“Hi there! How are you guys on this fine day?”

The two men looked at each other. Finally, they turned to the man in the odd clothes. Tony was small and twitchy with the face of a weasel. His eyes were slits which darted left and right almost constantly, overall giving the impression that he was as slippery as an eel covered in lard. He opened the dialogue, which he hoped to conclude as soon as possible, as he needed another smoke.

“Move along now mister.”

“Now come on man! I need to see the big guy! He’s going to be pretty livid if I don’t deliver his cigars!”

Tony narrowed his eyes even further, which was impressive given they were just slits to begin with.

“Are you... American?” He uttered the word with reverence.

“Yes I am sir! Bringing these cigars to Lord Garsh personal like!”

“Well, maybe we could let you through, if you had a cigar spare?” his voice rose up in pitch, hopeful.

“I fort we ain’t allowed to let no one frew?” The deep voice of Lance rumbled to the right of Tony. He was huge and shaped like a snowman, that is, like a large ball with a smaller ball placed on top.

“Shut it!” hissed Tony. “I told you to leave the thinking stuff to me.”

“Ok Tony.” Lance turned his head back out to the street where the vacant expression he had worn before returned.

“Well I think I can spare maybe two for you!” The American said, and handed Tony a couple of cigars wrapped in paper. “Good day to you guys!” The man skipped off through the gates.

“Dey don’t arf wear funny clothes dese ‘Mericans,” said Lance.

~~~~

S
pencer was in. He was still in disbelief that his terrible American accent had actually passed any scrutiny, even that of the two idiots on the gate. Now he was inside the walls though, he wasn’t exactly sure what to do. A few people crossed the yard, moving from one door to another on errands of some kind. Other than that, the space was empty apart from the far right hand corner, where a group of six men stood. These didn’t wear the bright red uniforms of the gate guards, these looked like thugs from the street. They must be the people Garsh had rounded up from the local gangs. From the look of them, these men would be more of a problem than the official guards.

“I’ve been getting my smokes from Sven’s smokes from when I was a little boy, and I’d recognise their ten cent thins anywhere.”

Spencer turned to see the skinny guard from the gate holding up one of the thin cigars he’d given him between two needle like fingers.

“I don’t think you’re from America,” he said grinning.

Spencer realised that that the guard was alone, the other fat guard wasn’t there. Then he heard a wheeze from behind, before a sharp crack landed on the back of his head and sent him spiralling towards the floor.

––––––––

“S
he has eyes like emerald seas. Her skin is pure and golden. She is nothing short of a goddess, and as soon as we get out of here I am going to do my best to be there for here in what must be a very difficult time for her."

Spencer’s eyes were adjusting to the gloom and his brain was adjusting to Colin. Spencer had been here for about fifteen minutes so far, and Colin had not stopped talking from the moment he’d arrived.

“She’s an incredible business woman as well, you should have seen the queue of people she had outside her stand! Of course, once I arrived she closed shop so she could focus on me.“

“From what you’ve said, wasn’t that because she was luring you to be kidnapped?” Spencer interjected.

“Well yes, the poor lamb. She must have been in quite a state over her father for her to have given me up like that. When we are free I’ll visit her and make sure she knows I bear her no ill will. Then I shall ask her father's permission to take her to lunch.”

“Well if he’s anything like the version back home, then good luck to you. Look, lets start working out how we’re going to get out of here.”

Spencer’s curiosity regarding the palaces dungeon facilities had unfortunately been sated by the fact that he was now in one. It came with all the features you would expect from a dungeon. Darkness, dankness, draughts... In fact, pretty much anything you could think of that started with ‘D’. Spencer was currently enjoying the dourness.

He had regained his bearings somewhat now. After being clobbered over the head by something heavy and blunt, a black cloth bag was pulled over his head and he was dragged off along stone floors and eventually, down stone steps. He had now started feeling his way along the ice cold walls of the rectangular room. The light was a shade away from pitch black. A small slit in the stone at the top of the long wall opposite the door leaking in a tiny amount of daylight which was quickly swallowed up by the deep darkness (yet more ‘D’ words).

“I’m afraid there is no way out other than the door, and that’s made of steel,” Colin said. “No, I’m afraid we’re here until we get a chance to overthrow a guard, take their weapons and fight our way to freedom.” He said this as though it was a run of the mill activity to him. Something to be checked off a list of things to do today.

“That’s if anyone ever comes back," answered Spencer. “They might just leave us to...” He froze. His foot had just hit something. He bent down and groped in the dark to find the object. His fingers caught a smooth edge, they moved along and under it until he felt something leathery. The leathery thing moved.

The human mind does funny things with darkness. It creates things within its hidden depths that are, as rule, unpleasant. When you then add in a sensory experience like touching something that was clearly alive, that had leathery skin, I think we can excuse Spencer for the rather high pitched yelp he let out as he jumped backwards.

“Colin, is anything else in here with us?!”

“No.” Colin said flatly. “Just us and the tortoises.”

~~~~

B
ecky was currently stood on a toilet seat. She was craning up to look through the small gap at the top of the door of the privy in order to see if anyone was looking out of any windows from the house. The coast appeared to be clear. She stepped off the wooden seat and slowly opened the door. She slipped out, closing it silently behind her and scampered to the gate in the crumbling wall which separated the tiny, overgrown garden from the alley which ran along the back of all the houses. She slipped out and lent back on the door, waiting to hear any shouts from the house. There was nothing.

She turned to leave and saw Norbert leaning casually on the wall, chewing on the end of a long piece of grass.

‘’Ello Becky. D’you know? I had a little ‘fink to myself when you said you ‘ad to use the loo. ‘Cos I reckon you wouldn’t use the loo ‘ere unless you bleedin’ ‘ad to, what with you being a lady an that. Then I got ‘finking about how you was looking when Spangler said you couldn’t go with Spencer and ‘fort ‘I wonder if she’s gonna do a bunk over the wall’.”

“You're cleverer than you look you know Norbert,” said Becky, sighing.

“That’s what I’m always tellin’ ‘em!" Norbert said excitedly. ‘Now, what’s the plan then? Where we going?”

Becky looked slightly shocked.

“You mean you aren’t going to go and tell Spangler I was trying to sneak out?”

“Nah, I reckon he don’t know what to do. Never seen him like this, ‘ee looks broken. I reckon we need to go and get some supplies and then get the device back. Then we can sort out this mess. My lockup’s over here.”

He began to lead Becky down the narrow path, muttering as he went.

“People like bleedin’ Leggy thinking they're all ‘igh ‘n mighty. Not right it ain’t. ‘Onest folks like me ain’t got a chance with nasty buggers playing copper all over the shop. The sooner we get things back to how they was the better.”

They reached a sagging row of four dilapidated storage units. Each with a wooden door painted in peeling green paint. Norbert walked to the end and pulled out a string cord he had tied around his neck like a necklace. Hanging from the bottom was a brass key.

“Now I don’t wanna sound untrusting or nuffin Becky, but can I ask that you don’t look at anyfin when you’re in ‘ere?”

“Norbert, how am I supposed to look at nothing? I can’t keep my eyes closed the whole time! I promise, I’ll forget anything I see as soon as we leave. What have you got that will help anyway?” Norbert grinned.

“You’ll see,” he said before turning the key and unlocking the door.

“If you don’t mind giving me a minute Becky I would like to er... ‘ave a little tidy before you come in,” Norbert said shiftily.

Becky sighed, “Yes Norbert, just hurry up.”

~~~~

N
ebwett sat in his shed in Placeholder, he was sure he had it now. He’d got the device in place and the thing was ready to go. He would admit, he was a little nervous. He’d heard through eavesdropping at the air vent in Garsh’s study that you had to have been somewhere before to get there again, but he couldn’t quite work that out in his head. He guessed that it would just be random and that he could end up anywhere.
Still, how bad could it be?
He reasoned. Wherever he ended up, they were bound to have something to trade, something he could bring back and make a money with here.

He thought of his Uncle Gurn. He could remember him stood on the edge of cheesy gorge, the whole family gathered around him. He’d invited them all, distant cousins and estranged aunts, all here to witness his big moment. He had been stood on a small podium at the top of a ramp as he spoke his now famous words.

“Dare to dream!”

Before turning to face the chasm behind him, climbing onto the saddle and clipping his feet into straps on the pedals below. Pedals which turned a series of mechanics which resulted in the two long wings which jutted out from either side of him to flap. The wings beat experimentally a couple of times, before he pulled the chocks holding the wheels in place at the top of the ramp, and wheeled down and off the edge, whooping with delight.

They’d not gone home in as somber a mood that night as you might expect. The family felt that when all was said and done, it had been very exciting and had brought the family all together for the first time in years. Yes, ok, Uncle Gurn might not have felt that way, god rest his soul, but his spirit for adventure had inspired them all.

Nebwett snapped back to the present day and began to turn the handle.

~~~~

“R
ight! In ya come!” Norbert said opening the door from the inside and beckoning her in. She entered into what was a chaotic space. There was junk everywhere. Old lamps, tables, strange ornamental china figures piled in boxes. Copper pipes were stacked over head on rafters, and there was a pile of lead tiles which Norbert threw a dusty sheet over as soon as Becky’s eye caught them.

There was a large workbench running the length of one side of the crowded space with various bits and bobs scattered across it. One half of the bench though was covered in a huge patchwork cloth, with various lumps and bumps only hinting at what lay beneath.

“’Ere we go,” said Norbert opening a chest which lay underneath the workbench. Light from the lantern Norbert held aloft in his free hand glinted on metal. The chest was full of weapons. Knives, swords, something that looked like a crossbow, even a mace.

“Blimey Norbert! Why on earth have you got all this?!” asked a shocked Becky.

Norbert gave her a sheepish grin. “I sort of... won it off someone.”

“Hmm... ok. Have you got anything slightly less...lethal?”