The Sequestran Dilemma – Chapter 2.10

Get me Down!!

“Will you get me down from here you pint sized little beast,” I yelled at him. “And why is this happening? I can’t believe it has nothing to do with you. Why aren’t you floating upside down?”

Cat positively miaowed his reply like a normal cat, that had just got their face stuck into a bowl of cream, probably would,

“You forget boss, I have my own built in hovering capability. Unlike you and the Prorex, I’m not dependent on old Maglev technology built into my shoes in order to take advantage of a hoverator’s capability to move me from one place to another.”

“Ok, and so?” I replied, “why does that mean I’m floating upside down being assaulted by this old bat’s undergarments?”

“Well,” said Cat, resting his chin thoughtfully between on one of his front paws, “I’d say something has gone wrong.”

“Bllurrrgh,” was all I could momentarily manage, before exclaiming, “that’s the understatement of the century you robotic ratbag.”

At this, Cat froze and his eyes flashed.

“Oh don’t tell me I’ve offended you,” I enquired sarcastically.

“Not at all,” responded Cat in his most houghtiest tone, “I am currently trying to compute exactly what ‘Bllurrrgh’ means.”

“WILL YOU GET ME DOWN FROM HERE,” I yelled at the top of my voice, “OR I SWEAR I’LL HAVE YOU TURNED INTO A MATTRESS!!”

“Of course boss, of course,” replied Cat.

It always fundamentally worried me when Cat was even vaguely respectful towards me and I wondered, somewhat apprehensively, what he was going to do. He hovered up and started to poke around with one paw at the chain of my watch until, thankfully, the Prorex was released from me. Well, that’s a relief I thought, as she floated a little away from me still grumbling, squeaking and cursing from underneath her skirts, which mercifully obscured the speaking end of her body.

The Sequestran Dilemma – Chapter 2.9

Just so Embarrassing

As the Prorex and I completed our turn and reached the perpendicular, our faces briefly bumped together before thankfully her voluminous skirts gave in to gravity and tumbled down over her face. What a relief I thought as her wails became rather pleasantly muffled. However only a few moments later her muffled wails became subsumed by my screams as, having reached the zenith of our turn to the upside down, we rapidly accelerated towards the ceiling of the hoverator.

“CAAAAAAAT,” I yelled, “What’s happening? Get me down. For goodness sake get this lunatic woman off me. CAAAAAAAT, I’M GONNA THROW UP,” I yelled!!!

Cat floated up towards me, totally under control, using his own but in-built hovering capability. As he arrived level with my upside down head he said,

“You screamed Master. How can I assist?”

“Don’t mess around you obnoxious rubberised furball. I know you know what’s going on here. So do something about it NOW!!” I yelled again.

“How do you know I know what’s going on?” enquired Cat.

“Because you always know you irritant,” I hissed.

“Well if you’re going to be rude about it you can jolly well stay stuck to the Prorex for all I care,” responded Cat in a very haughty manner. “It’ll make for a very pretty picture for the office at HQ,” jeered Cat.

At that, he kindly aircast a picture of my circumstances about half a metre beneath the top of my head. I mean I knew I was dangling upside down but seeing the whole picture was something else. There I was hanging, feet to the ceiling, with my long hair tumbling from the top of my head floor-ward. As he panned around I could see the body of the Prorex, appearing almost magically attached to me, in the kind of perfect symmetrical harmony normally associated with stratonasts performing an aerial routine.

The top half of the Prorex, from the waist down to her head, was totally obscured by her voluminous skirts and petticoats. From the waist up to her feet I could see bright orange undergarments, made of some frighteningly shiny material, running all the way to her knees. From where the bloomers ended, spindly legs stuck out ending in ankles covered by blue stripy socks and encased, where ankles ended and feet started, by bright red shoes. The shoes had oversized yellow bows at the toe end. A nice touch I thought as rage started to grow inside me with the realisation that Cat the rat was doubtless aircasting these images back to HQ for a laugh at my expense!

To be continued…….

The Sequestran Dilemma – Chapter 2.8

Up, up and Away

All the time she’d been babbling at me and jabbing I’d been backing away. We’d traveled so far in the ‘jabbing’ direction that we were now on the very edge of the hoverator to the CombatDrome.

All of a sudden I felt a significant pull on the lower back of my legs, essentially from heel to back of knee. I realised then that my my heels had moved onto the hoverator surface but instead of feeling the gentle, encouraging vertical thrust normally associated with a hoverator, I felt my legs disappearing from under me. Something was wrong.

I tried to push my body forward away from the pull but it was strong. On top of that, the now attached Prorex was applying forward pressure on my upper body as she desperately tried to disengage her finger from my compass. Despite my efforts, my heels suddenly lifted up above my ankles as the upper half of my body began to tilt forward towards the Prorex.

Slowly but surely my heels continued to rise into the air, followed by the rest of my body as I effectively rotated the full 180 degrees, despite the anchoring effect of the Prorex attached to my compass chain. The surprisingly graceful movement of my body was followed by the Prorex, as she also slowly turned through 180 degrees . We became, it seemed, two perfectly aligned airdancers of the sort I’d seen at Commster fairs when a child.

To be continued……

The Sequestran Dilemma – Chapter 2.7

The Prorex Makes her Point

Cat slowly shook his head as the Prorex failed to laugh at my joke and proceeded to prod me several times in the chest saying very loudly,

“Are you here to fix the latrines? They keep blocking you know. So very annoying for our visitors. It’s urgent you know,” she ended, with a staccato series of none too painless pointy finger jabs to my upper body.

As I started to say that I was not a sanitary engineer, the Commander stepped forward and gently eased the old dear back a bit saying,

“Ma’am, this is the Inspector. He’s here to be help us with the hole.”

“Well, that’s what I thought,” responded the Prorex, “the latrines are a disgrace. High time someone looked into them. Ruddy awful smell.”

So, my fast thinking brain as ever worked out the situation. This scatty old dear was some ceremonial head of the Old Thames Bridge and obviously they wheeled her out in any moments of crisis. Ceremonial figures always had their place at times like this. She was obviously  a couple of asteroids short of a belt, so I thought I’d better try to explain my role clearly.

“Ma’am,” I began, “I am a tax inspector and I’m here because a hole has apparently appeared in one of your Dromes. I have nothing whatsoever to do with toilets.”

As I spoke, I realised how ridiculous that sounded. If I was tax inspector, why would I be investigating a hole, toilet or otherwise? Oh I guess she might, if she could find her asteroids for a moment, think that I meant a hole in someone’s finances? I guess. However none of that really mattered as, whilst I was musing on why as a tax inspector I kept investigating things other than taxes, the dear old Prorex went for me again. This time with even more ferocious finger jabbing.

“Young man,” she intoned in a quite shaky, aged way, “I don’t like tax inspectors. I don’t like tax and I don’t like paying tax. The Old Thames Bridge already pays too much tax to The Council and we won’t pay a credit more.”

She finger jabbed really rather expertly as she literally spat out each word. And trust me there was quite a bit of spit. By the time she’d finished I was drenched. And my stomach hurt from the jabbing. And then something a little unfortunate happened. On one of her last jabs her finger went right through the small metal ring that attached my Victorian compass to my tunic. Effectively her bony jabbing finger became attached to me, along with the rest of her.

To be continued……..