The
Adventures of Prof. Emrys Coppersmith
"The
Lost Invention"
By:
Thorn Martinek
Started:
12-11-2016
~Chapter 1~
~The
Message and The Mechanical Man~
Professor Emrys
Coppersmith walked into his office. The tall grey wolf had taken his
time on the walk in, to enjoy the cool spring day. He'd been
taking the universities tram system all winter, and was grateful for
the chance to enjoy the fresh, and no longer frigid, rural Washington
air.
Penelope, his
assistant, sat at her desk, busily sorting through a disturbingly
large stack of papers, checking the names on them off a list. The
scent of machine grease mixed with metal dust and a hint of perfume,
the latter he always assumed was from her roommate at the dormitory,
was strong in the air. It seemed to follow the young woman
everywhere. From the strength of it, she must have been here for
some time already.
"Good
afternoon,"
Emrys greeted her as he hung his coat on his staff, which stood
quietly in place, unassisted, "are those the essays I assigned the
new students last week?"
"HUH?!" she
looked up with a start, nearly knocking over the stack of papers, her
fur standing on end with the shock, "OH! What? Um... YES!... A-and
goo-good afternoon Em- I-mean, Professor," the young orange tabby
stabilized the slowly leaning tower of paper and smoothed her fur
where it showed from under her blouse. The Professor considered that
this seemed to be a regular occurrence when she was in his presence.
"Actually,"
she spoke more calmly now, taking a quick breath, and a sweet smile
appearing on her face, "I'm just about finished marking off the
students who turned the assignment in today. I'll have them ready
for you in a few moments."
"Very good,
thank you, Penelope" Emrys moved over to his desk and sat, shaking
his head with a light chuckle. They had been not unlike father and
daughter, even distant siblings, for years now, and she still
insisted on calling him by his title, even in private. Then,
retrieving a pen and notebook from one of his desk drawers, he began
scribbling additional notes for tomorrow's demonstration.
Some minutes
later, he looked up from his notes, now for his next lecture, just in
time to yank the notebook out from under the rapidly descending
mountain of papers, barely controlled by a pair of small, fuzzy
orange hands.
"INCOMING!"
came a strained, muffled voice from the fast approaching tower of
paper. The poor girl sounded as though she was trying to talk though
gnashed teeth too.
They impacted the
desk top with a solid THUMP. The stack of papers and his assistant,
though she was mostly obscured behind said stack, teetered for a
moment. It took the petite feline a few moments to prize her hands
from beneath them. Emrys was, almost, surprised her fingers hadn't
been pulverized under the stack of essays.
"Here *PANT*
you go... *GASP* Professor," though she was in quite fit shape,
carrying the large stack of essays across the office from her desk to
his took a notable effort from the five foot four inch tall young
woman. The paper tower was nearly half her height; she'd had to
hold the top of the stack with her chin to keep it from falling.
"Um... thank
you, Penelope,"
Emrys carefully set his note book back on the desk, adjusting his
spectacles while eyeing the precarious stack of papers, and the now
rather disheveled looking Penelope, "in future, please don't
hesitate to ask me for help when you need it."
Her
tail fluffed momentarily, her expression flashed with embarrassment,
"Oh, um, I-I didn't want to bother you."
"I
assure you, Penelope," he fixed her with a comforting, but stern
look, "it is no bother," he gave a light hearted smirk, "I
can't have my assistant dying under an avalanche of undergrad class
work, of all things."
"Y-yes,
Sir..." she acknowledged bashfully. Though it was promptly
punctuated by a surprisingly loud gurgle from her stomach. Her eyes
went wide again, now in shock and
embarrassment.
"I...
see you skipped lunch, again," Emrys chuckled, "Alright then.
Thank you for your dedication, I truly do appreciate it. But why
don't you go get something to eat before you pass out, Penny."
He gestured to the stack of papers, "This veritable Tower of Babel
will keep me busy for some time, so no need to worry about rushing."
"But,
Professor!" She started, beginning to pout at the prospect of being
sent away. Even for a short time.
"Ach!"
he held up one hand, stopping her from saying any more, "Go. Eat.
Take your time, and come back when you've had your fill. You
will
need the energy, and I
will need you back here and firing on all cylinders to prepare for
tomorrow's lecture and demonstration."
She
perked up at that, "Yes, Sir!" she exclaimed with a mock salute,
her tail pointing straight up in the air. She then comically marched
from the room, he could hear her half skipping, half running, down
the hall once she was out of sight. He swore he heard her giggling
too.
'Sweet
girl,' the Professor thought, as he carefully slid the stack of
essays closer, 'A little too enthusiastic at times. But I
certainly appreciate the help with things, especially things like
this... can't say she was much different when she was still just
one of my students.'
Emrys now sat
alone in his office, attempting to stare down the tower of freshman
year opening essays he had assigned, and subsequently, Penelope had
collected from his newest students that morning. He had already read
through two of them, and they were already making his head hurt.
He wondered,
continuing to glare the stack of papers, if his ancestors in ancient
Germany had once fixed a similar stare on their prey when hunting.
Given, he had no intention of eating the tower of paper and ink.
Though one of his students, he mused, ironically a young golden
retriever, had once attempted to convince Emrys that he had done
exactly that when he arrived in class without the assignment that was
due.
The Professor
glanced through several of the further essays which had been turned
in, and instantly found his headache growing from what he read. He
rubbed his temple with the soft pads of his index and middle finger.
"Really," he
thought aloud, "one would think that at least some
of
them had paid attention in their literature classes, at some point,
in their earlier education... at least once..."
He
resigned himself the fact that he would likely have to spend some
time teaching this fresh batch of undergraduates how
to
write a paper properly. As he read the first few lines of the essay
on top of the stack, he let out a small whimper. Apparently a few
spelling dictionaries may be in order as well.
He
played with the idea of giving Penelope a tutoring class on the
subject. The idea of the petite young feline wrangling a group of,
often much larger and male, undergraduates made him chuckle to
himself. He almost felt sorry for the first one to try intimidating
her, especially since Emrys' wife had started training the girl in
some of her homes hand-to-hand techniques.
At
that moment came a loud banging at his office door, like a hammer,
giving him a start, resulting in a small eruption of papers over his
desk. Being sequestered deep in the study wing of the
university's anthropology department, such disturbances were
rare. Save for the times when he was testing some ancient
machine or design he had unearthed, that is.
"Yes?"
Emrys called to the door whilst collecting the strewn essays from
where they had distributed themselves, "It's open, come in!"
With
that, the door swung open and a tall man, dressed in a long grey
overcoat and top hat to match, entered the cluttered office. The
Professors nose twitched as the visitor carried a distinct smell of
machine oil and metal, he could hear the faint sound of whirring and
clacking gears as the man moved as well.
Not
a man, rather, an automaton.
"Sorry
for the intrusion, Professor," the barrel chested machine-man held
out a gloved hand as he walked into the room, "but this is a matter
of some urgency. I was told you would be of assistance."
Coppersmith
took his visitor's hand, noting that; though the brown leather of his
glove was soft and supple, the mechanism beneath it was surprisingly
hard. It reminded him of several of the clockwork
automatons he had encountered in his travels. Fine
craftsmanship to be sure, though falling a bit short of the work
of Jaquet-Droz.
"No
problem at all, Mr....?" Emrys enquired, casting an apologetic look
to the assortment of glaring students and academic peers outside his
office.
"AH!
Forgive my manners!" the visitor exclaimed, exposing a
constable's badge, visible through a hole sewn in this shirt,
riveted to his chest plate under his coat, "DETECTIVE Widget,
actually. At your service."
"So,
am I to assume that you are looking for my services as..." The
Professor, grateful for the distraction, set his stack of essays on
his desk and moved to the door, which currently hung open, to close
it, "...a consultant on a case, yes?"
As
he did so, he got a good look at the Detective's face, and saw with
some surprise, that the canid face seemed made of entirely
real
flesh and fur. He knew he couldn't have been mistaken in his
perceptions, and that this man was some form of automaton. The
Professor's ears twitched, still picking up the faint
*wherrrr-click* from inside the chest cavity, as well as further
mechanical noises from the extremities. 'Curious,' he
thought, stroking the sides of his muzzle. Well sculpted leather or
India rubber perhaps? With some new synthetic, or possibly donated,
fur? He would have to look into it to it at a later time.
"Yes!
And a most nefarious case at that, Professor." Detective
Widgets, slightly tinny, nasally voice snapped Emrys back to the
present. It sounded much like that of a radio announcer, he
mused.
"Hm?
Oh, well, let's get to it then," the Prof. sputtered a bit,
"Please, take a seat." He cleared stacks of notes and
journals from an old arm chair which stood across from his desk.
"Thank
you!" Widget sat with a metallic *THUNK*,
bringing forth a small cloud of dust from the chair, "First..."
he leaned forward, "this hasn't hit the papers yet, and we would
like to keep it that way for the time being. I hope you
understand that I need to ask you to keep this confidential for
now."
"Of
course, Detective," he affirmed as he eased back into his desk
chair, "Now, how may I help the police today?"
"Well,
we recently received information in the form of an anonymous tip,
stating that," the Detective leaned back in the chair, and
retrieved a slip of paper from his coat pocket and read, "'The
Great Lens of Archimedes will be in the hands of Agares
by
month's end. If they are not stopped, then nothing will stand
against their might.'" He passed the slip to Emrys, "We were
hoping you would have some insight on what they're referring to."
"'The
Great Lens of Archimedes'?" The Professor repeated the name as he
took the slip of paper, "Really..."
He
examined the paper, noting an encircled insignia at the bottom. It
appeared to be a quickly scrawled approximation of what looked to be
an angelic seal, with a partial iron cross over what almost looked
like a laughing mouth, both framed by lines that could be cheeks.
All inside a circle with the letters; SAG across the top, and ARE
inverted across the bottom.
He
saw, too, that the word 'Agares' was written in red, though he
knew not what for. The name of an organization, possibly? Something
the message seemed to imply, stating 'their might' rather than
'his might.' The name referred to a Judeo-Christian demon lord
who could paralyze people through fear, making 'Those who run stand
still,' and controlled natural disasters, such as earthquakes.
He
sniffed at the sheet of paper, passing it less than an inch from the
end of his muzzle; old parchment, stale blood, iron shavings, wood
smoke, sweat off a raccoon's hands. None of it particularly recent,
except the sweat belonging to the raccoon, which had the smell of a
confidant man, not someone who would fear for much of anything. But
clearly frightened nonetheless.
"Interesting,"
Emrys set the paper on his desk, "Our search will likely take us to
Italy, and I would keep an eye out for trouble," he tapped the
paper with the claw of one finger, "the person who wrote this may,
already, be in some trouble."
"As
for the 'Great Lens of Archimedes'... To my knowledge, it's
only a myth." The Professor leaned back in his seat.
Widget
leaned forward again, "A myth? Then we should have little to worry
about!"
Emrys
scoffed, "Hardly, Detective. I have, personally,
encountered a number of things thought to be 'only a myth.' In
several instances, shortly before they killed someone," he leaned
forward to wrest his elbows on his desk, "I mean to say that no
one, as yet, has been able to find it and verify its existence."
The
Professor stood and went to his book shelf, "You are familiar with
the Greek inventor, mathematician, and natural philosopher,
Archimedes, yes?"
"Admittedly,
not my area of expertise," Widget shifted in his seat so as to
follow Emrys, "That is
why
I'm here to consult with you on the matter," he added with a hint
of condescension, "... but I do recall he had something to do with
buoyancy, yes?"
Emrys'
ears twitched back in response to the detectives' verbal jab, he
hadn't encountered an automaton with an attitude before. It must
have been programed as part of some interrogation protocol. Though
somewhat impressive, he wasn't sure if he particularly cared for
the function. Rather than confront the mechanical detective on the
matter, he decided it would be more productive to simply continue his
explanation.
"Hm,
well, as the story goes; the ruler of Syracuse,
Archimedes home, commissioned a number of weapons from him,"
he sifted through the collection of books and journals on the shelf,
"to be used in the cities defense. Among these were... AH-HA!"
He
pulled an old book from the shelf, bound in rust red leather. The
title 'Ancient Machinations of War' was emblazoned in gold leaf
on the cover and spine. He quickly began rifling through the pages,
muttering to himself, until he found the page he was looking for,
reading silently.
"...Professor
Coppersmith?" Widget prodded.
"HM?
OH! Sorry," he peered over his brass spectacles as he moved back to
his desk, still scanning the page of the book, "Among these were; a
claw, or rather a hook, and line launched from a trebuchet... to pull
ships over and capsize them..., a steam powered cannon, and a
'death-ray.' Now, there is evidence that the first two were
constructed, at least in part, and possibly even used. The
'death-ray' however, has only been found in concept drawings and
a few early designs."
The
Professor sat on the front edge of his desk, tail laying across its
top, so he was facing Detective Widget. After handing the book to
the machine-man, he continued, "So far as..."
At
this time, Penelope walked through the door, "I'm back, Prof..."
she trailed off, eyeing the detective-automaton with a mixture of
curiosity and unease, "Um, is everything alright?"
"Ah,
finished your lunch already, Penelope?" Emrys greeted her,
"Everything's fine, the detective here was just consulting with me
on a case. Did you have a good lunch?"
His
assistant relaxed a bit at that, "Oh! Yes, there's a new Cafe
down the road, wonderful sandwiches."
"Detective,
this is my assistant, Ms. Penelope Reuthe," the Professor gestured
to Penelope, "Penelope, this is Detective Widget,"
She
smiled and gave a slight curtsy, a gesture that only barely worked in
the simple skirt she wore. Widget half stood and tipped his top hat
to her. Then she padded nimbly around her desk to sit. She pulled a
textbook and notebook from her desk, and started studying.
Emrys
noted that the blue, leather bound, 'textbook' she had out was,
in fact, the portable analytical engine she had designed and built as
part of her Bachelor's thesis. With only a little help from him in
designing its power source. Such a useful device.
"Should
we continue this consultation another time, Professor?" Widget
inquired.
"Oh,
no, Ms. Reuthe
is perfectly trustworthy, I assure you." Emrys dismissed the
question, "Let's continue... Where was I... Ah, yes: So
far as anyone has been able to confirm, the 'death-ray' was never
actually built. Likely abandoned as being infeasible," he crossed
his arms over his chest, "the latest design anyone has ever found
indicated needing several hundred mirrored bronze shields, held by
soldiers. The idea was that each soldier would use these polished
metal shields to reflect, and focus, the sun onto a single spot on an
enemy ship. This would, in turn, cause the ship to catch fire. Just
like using a magnifying lens to burn a piece of paper. Simply on a
much grander scale."
"...And
this 'Great Lens of Archimedes' is the same thing?" the
Detective interjected, examining the page of the book he had been
handed.
Emrys
noticed Penelope's right ear twitch when she heard that. He
smirked momentarily as he saw her stop writing for a second, then
continued, or appeared to continue, with her studies. Though her
ears were now swiveled in his, and the detectives, direction. 'Good
girl,' he thought to himself.
"Yes...
and... no," Emrys stroked the sides of his muzzle with the index
finger and thumb pads of one hand, "As I said, by all confirmed
discoveries,
the weapon was never completed. The latest design that's been
found has even been tested; and it didn't work."
He
stood and moved to a wheeled chalk board which stood in the corner,
retrieved a piece of chalk from the tray, cleared a space on the
green slate, and started to draw as he continued, "The myth
is
that he never abandoned the idea. Kept working on it for years,
still getting backing from... somewhere," he glanced over his
shoulder at Widget, "it's a bit fuzzy on where or who... but..."
He turned back to his drawing, "supposedly, he finished it... at
least the designs. The speculations people have made of what he came
up with are pretty awe inspiring. Something like this."
Emrys
stepped aside, brushing chalk dust from his hands, so the detective
could see the finished sketch, depicting a circular grid-array of
mirrors set in a dish. Ray lines showed them focusing down to what
appeared to be a crystal at the top of a spire, then producing a
single ray from that point on.
"A
massive, parabolic array of mirrors, directed by some sort of
focusing lens, or prism," he explained.
"Assuming
this is
real,"
Widget inquired, "just what would it be capable of doing? How much
damage could it do?"
"Well,"
the Professor considered for a moment, "the myth says that once it
was finished, Archimedes realized how dangerous it was, and as most
such myths go, he hid... or destroyed it along with all of the
completed plans," he stroked the underside of his chin in
contemplation, "supposedly, the one test firing that was performed
with it... triggered the volcanic event at Pompeii which destroyed
the city... which implies that the project may have either been
restarted, or restored, by someone else. Or continued after
Archimedes death, two hundred and ninety one years earlier."
At
that, Detective Widget stood and handed the book back to the
Professor.
"Thank
you for your help, Professor Coppersmith, I think we can take it from
here," he began to leave, "you said I should start investigating
in Italy, right?"
Emrys
set the book on the shelf, "No, I said we
should
start the investigation in Italy," he took his coat and goggles
from where they hung exposing his staff, The Pillar of Physics,
freestanding as always. And set them across his desk.
"You
are needed here, in town, yes? As a member of the police department,
I doubt you can just up and leave," the Professor collected the
note from his desk, speaking quite rapidly now, "You would need
clearance from your superiors at the least, which could take time.
Time we don't have, if that note is to be believed," he held it
up, "I don't suppose I could keep this? It would help in finding
its author."
"Well
I..." Widget started, clearly having trouble keeping up.
"EXCELLENT!"
Emrys cut off the detective, stuffing the already refolded note in
his shirt pocket, "Penelope, would you be so kind as to send word
to my wife to start preparing our gear for a trip to Grease? And if
you would book passage for two on the first airship to Rome, Italy
tomorrow morning?"
His
assistant, stifling a giggle at the struggling automaton, sprang from
her chair, "Right away, Professor!" she darted to the door,
brimming with excitement. She stopped short, though, looking a
little confused.
"Um...
just two tickets, Professor?" she inquired, holding the door open,
"Am I not coming with you?"
The
poor girl looked as though someone had stepped on her tail, "I'm
sorry, sweet heart," Emrys affirmed, "But we don't know exactly
what we will be encountering in Italy, which isn't the safest place
in the world under normal circumstances. Furthermore, you still have
studies to attend to, and I need someone to teach my class tomorrow
in my stead."
Penelope
pouted, but left the office with a resigned, "Yes, Sir." The
Professor was heartbroken at disappointing her like that, but he told
himself that it was for the best. She was still young after all, and
he hadn't been lying about the dangers they would be facing. Or her
studies and needing someone to teach his classes in his absence.
Emrys
turned to the automatic detective again, "Now, as for you Detective
Widget," he began ushering the automaton out the door, "Please
inform the police chief that we will be taking care of things, and
will contact her with updates as we make headway."
"But,
Professor," the Detective objected, his head swiveling a full 180
to look at him, while resisting Emrys' attempts to push the
automaton out of his office, "I can't allow a civilian to head an
investigation of this sort!"
"Nonsense!
My wife and I have far more experience in such matters than any in
your department," Emrys retorted, still gently pushing against
Detective Widget's back, "Besides, last I checked, Italy was well
outside of the local police's jurisdiction."
"Ah,
you have a point there, Professor," Widget conceded, finally
allowing himself to be moved out the office door.
"Good!
Thank you for coming to me with this, Detective," Emrys began to
close the door, nearly as eager as his assistant had been, "please
give my regards to the Police Chief, we'll be in contact. Thank
you!"
And
with that, the door was closed. The Professor leaned against it for
a moment, gathering his thoughts. He needed to prepare, gather his
equipment, right.
He
turned and moved over to his artifact display case, opening the glass
doors on it, he reached in and touched the forehead of, what appeared
to be, an ancient idol of Odin with his index finger. After a
moment, the idol's eyes began to glow white as it started to hum, as
the sensor inside identified his body's electromagnetic signature.
Emrys
removed his finger from the idol as the whirring and clicking of the
cases internal mechanisms began to work. Shelves and panels slid and
tilted out of the way, revealing a green velvet lined storage case.
In it were all of the tools and weapons he routinely carried on
expeditions of this nature. A Russian model Schofield .45 caliber
revolver, long knife, a simple brass compass, and a number of smaller
Technomage tools that often came in handy, were some of the things
concealed in the display case. Along with a heavy leather belt with
pouches.
He
fastened the belt around his waist, just above his tail, and quickly
filled it with the equipment he wanted, then closed the hidden
compartment. Leaving no sign that there was any such trove in the
office.
He
paused for a moment and watched it close. Penelope would be
absolutely awestruck by the technology he used, thus far she was only
really aware of his staff, and not even everything it
was
capable of. Once again, he lamented having to leave her here; he
knew how she craved the adventure, travel, and knowledge. He just
wasn't sure she was ready to handle the reality of it all just yet,
at least, not all at once. And he couldn't bear the thought of her
getting killed in some far away country, in a place no one would ever
find again.
After
all, she might as well be his daughter, as much as he cared for her.
He
sighed, strapping his goggles around his neck and shrugging into his
long, brown, greatcoat. He would make it up to her. When he and
Tips returned from this expedition, he would offer her training as a
Technomage, though there was little doubt she would accept.
He
smiled at that thought, she was a wonderful girl, and would make a
magnificent Technomage. He doubted much of anything would make her
happier.
And
with that, he grabbed his dig kit, filled with all the bushes,
trowels, calipers, and such of a normal
anthropologist.
Took up his staff, pointed its head at the office doorknob,
releasing a crackling arc of electricity, with which he pulled the
door open. He stepped through the opened door, leaving it to swing
closed behind him.
~Chapter 2~
~An
Assistant's Determination~
Penelope
sulked, head cradled in her arms on her desk. The fur on her hands
and forearms was damp from crying.
She
had run into the Professor on the way back in, after booking his and
Tips' airship passage. Where he had bidden her farewell, with a
hug and fatherly kiss on the forehead, before leaving to make his
final preparations for the trip. She had been holding back tears of
frustration and disappointment at the time. They hadn't held long
after she got back to the office, though.
She
felt like she had been crying for hours. However, as she looked at
the clock standing in the corner, it had only been about five or ten
minutes since she got back. It was only about three thirty in the
afternoon.
She
looked around the room, her eyes settling on the chalkboard. The
Professors drawing of the device he and the detective had been
talking about was still on it. What was it he had been saying? A
massive, circular, parabolic array of mirrors? All focused and aimed
by a prism? The sheer level of engineering involved in such a feat
was breathtaking. Even today! And it had been designed and built
over a thousand years ago.
At
least, supposedly...
Of
course, the Professor... Emrys... had also said that its creation had
never been confirmed. But still. The fact that the police had come
to him about it must
mean
there was something to it.
She
had
to
find out, to see it if it was real.
But,
Emrys was counting on her to take care of things while he was away.
If she ran off, who would take care of his classes and lectures? It
was her job,
as his assistant, to take care of such things.
She
slumped back in her chair with a slight sob. Sure, she had been
looking forward to tomorrow's demonstration, she always did. But
what she really wanted, even more than seeing this marvel, to be with
them... with... near...
him... the man she...
NO!
She couldn't think like that! She knew Emrys was with Tips, and she
loved both
of
them too much to do anything to harm their relationship with each
other. In them she had found the family she always wanted, but been
denied by her father. Besides, Emrys needed her here.
She had a responsibility to make sure that everything was taken care
of while he was gone. He had classes and lectures and demonstrations
to give. If he wasn't there to give them, she had to make sure it
still happened without too much transgression. She was his Personal
Assistant,
damn it!
His...
Personal...
Assistant...
Her
eyes glittered with an idea. Something which had often proven,
explosively, dangerous in the past. A wide grin formed across her
muzzle.
She
would make sure things would be taken care of in their
absence.
Find other instructors to cover his classes, give his
demonstrations, and lectures. No one said she
was
the one to have to give them, just make sure they were taken
care of.
She
bounced in her seat, giggling with joy at her own cleverness. She
was going to get to go to Italy with the Professor and Tips!
Then
a reality hit her, she had booked their tickets under his name, for
only two people. She couldn't afford an airship to Rome, Italy. Not
with what the university was paying her... and there was no way she
was going to ask her father for the money, even if she had the time
to. She thought about it for a moment. But, in the end, there
really was no other option: she would have to stow away on the
airship they were taking in the morning.
Before
that, she had a fair amount to get done by morning. It was already
four in the afternoon, she had to get moving if she was going to make
it. She got up and started to gather the information about Emrys'
schedule for the rest of the month: times, dates, subjects, and
materials. Then dried her fur on her coat, which she put on, made
sure she had grabbed her portable analytical engine and set out to
arrange for people to cover the Professor's schedule, locking the
office door behind her.
-----------------------------------------------
It
was already ten thirty at night when Penelope got back to her dorm
room, and she was exhausted. She had barely been able to track down
enough, qualified, professors to cover all of Emrys' schedule, and
get
all the required paperwork turned in to the universities resources
department.
She
snapped the overhead light on, saw her roommate was already asleep in
the top bunk. Then promptly fell, face first, into her pillow on the
bottom bunk.
"No,
can't sleep yet, have to pack..." she mumbled into the pillow.
The airship Emrys and Tips were taking, left at nine o'clock in the
morning. She needed to get there early enough to board unseen, and
without a ticket.
She
pushed herself up, sitting sideways on the bed, looking around the
room. Her roommate had cleaned, apparently. So, in her stupor, it
took her a moment to locate the coffee engine. A device she had
insisted be present in the room, rather than only having the one in
the dormitory common area two floors down, after her first all night
study session.
Penelope
managed to stand herself up and cross the room to the table where the
coffee engine sat. Going through the process of filling and starting
the machine helped her wake up, the smell of the coffee grounds more
so. Her roommate had left out a canister of freshly ground beans and
a covered pitcher of water, for which she was grateful, as it meant
she didn't have to fetch water from the wash room or grind the
beans herself.
As
the coffee engine began to hiss and gurgle, she stood and removed her
coat and messenger bag, hanging them on a wall peg in the corner near
the door. Her duffle bag was found, folded neatly, under her bunk
alongside a pair of long knives in leather sheaths which Tips had
given her as a birthday present the year before.
She
pulled the three items out and set them on her bed. Unfolded the
duffle bag and stood it on end, the opening pointed upward. From
there, she started to go through her clothes, laying out what she
thought she would need for the month long trip. She passed over her
skirts, scrunching her nose at the idea of doing anything other than
office work in one. Opting for several pairs of trousers and
suspenders instead.
She
took a few minutes to change into some fresh, and more practical,
clothes as well. An old forest green pair of trousers, covered in
old and new oil stains, and a red breton stripe short sleeved
undershirt. Strapping on a good sturdy work belt, equipped with
several pouches and Tips' birthday presents, the knives bracketing
her tail. Completed with a pair of brown leather leggings which
covered from below her knees to just above her paws. The Professor
often wore a similar pair, though in a deep red color. He had been
the one to suggest she acquire a pair of the protective leg coverings
for herself while on digs and other such excursions.
Finally,
the bell on the coffee engine rang, indicating it was finished
brewing. As she poured herself a cup she heard her roommate stir in
the top bunk.
"Penny?"
the young equine woman propped herself up in bed, "you're home
rather late, darling..." she yawned, "is something wrong?"
After
taking a long drink of her coffee, she could feel the fatigue fade
with each swallow, Penelope sat in a chair and replied, "Good
evening, Rada, I'm just packing for an..." she searched for the
best way to put it, "unexpected trip... to Italy..."
Her
roommate sat up fully at the mention of travel to such an exotic
location, "Italy, dear heart!" she seemed much more awake
suddenly, "How on earth did you find
such
an opportunity?"
"Um,
I didn't?" Penelope confessed, "Professor Coppersmith and Tips
are going to investigate an artifact... I'm stowing away... on the
airship they're taking..." she attempted to hide behind her
coffee cup.
"You're
WHAT?!"
Rada was halfway down the bunk ladder, her hooves tapping on each
step, "My word, Penny, why stow away?" she looked the small
feline over, "And why do you look like a Christmas elf?"
Penelope
started to explain, "Well, I can't afford the ticket, and..."
then stopped to retort her friends comment on her attire, "I
do not look like an elf! Christmas or otherwise!" she
laughed, "This is perfectly good, practical clothing." she added,
feigning snobbery, turning her nose up in the air.
"I'm
sure it is, sweetheart. Especially if you're making toys in the
north pole..." Rada teased back, donning a sheer silk dressing gown
with marabou cuffs, hem and collar. Over top of her, equally sheer,
nightgown. It hid not an inch of her body. Only slightly obscuring
her ravishing
figure
beneath what looked like water cascading over her. One of many
pieces the fashion design major had created for herself.
Rada
Drahokam had been Penelope's roommate since she started her
Bachelor's degree a year after Penny. She and Rada had gotten off to
a quick friendship, which had only grown over time. In fact, Rada
had been the one to console Penelope the night she had confessed her
feelings to Professor Coppersmith, almost four years ago. Rada had
also been the one to 'help' put together her, rather frilly,
disguise when Penelope had decided to tail the Professor the day
after.
"Anyway,"
Penelope continued, ignoring her friend's usual, light hearted,
teasing, "I can't afford the airship ticket. So I haven't got
another option, really," she innocently took another sip of her
coffee.
"Why
doesn't your Professor pay for your ticket?" Rada inquired,
getting a cup of coffee for herself before lounging back on a small
loveseat they had under a window.
Penelope
often wondered how many young men gathered near their dormitory at
night. Sporting binoculars, hoping to catch a look at her roommate
in a similar manner of dress and pose as she was now. Thankfully,
and for just that reason, they generally kept the blinds closed.
"He...
um..." she attempted to hide behind her coffee cup again, "he
doesn't know I'm going. In fact, he kind of told me to stay
behind to take care of things here."
Rada
sat up, placing one hand on her chest in feigned shock, somehow
making her look even more of a pin-up girl than before.
"Oh
my word,
sweetheart," she spoke, breathlessly, setting her own coffee cup on
a nearby side table, "is my pretty little kitten finally developing
a rebellious
streak?
What will
we
ever do?"
Penelope
quickly set her coffee down on the table, reaching for the nearest
cushion she could find, "Gee,
I wonder where I might have gotten that
from?!"
Grinning
and laughing, she sent said cushion spinning across the room at Rada,
"You're
the only bad influence in my life."
"OH,
you wound
me!"
Rada caught the plush projectile against her chest, still laying the
act on thick, "How
could a sweet
and innocent
young woman, like myself,
ever be a bad
influence?"
she shot a doe eyed look over the edge of the pillow she clutched to
her bosom.
"Now
c'mere you!" with that Rada lunged across the room toward Penelope,
"I refuse to let you go anywhere in such gaudy, tasteless colors."
Penelope
let out a "MEW!" as she attempted to get away from the twenty
three year old, notably larger, equine woman. More cushions got
drafted into the fray as the two best friends wrestled each other for
control of the youngers one's green trousers.
Eventually,
Rada won. Pinning Penelope by kneeling over her chest. Though the
twenty one year old tabby had continued to fight, whaping her
friends, now exposed, back and shoulders with a pillow repeatedly.
Both of them laughing between panting breaths, with the occasional,
"Nooo, my
trousers!"
from Penelope.
Once
Rada had managed to prize the offending trousers from her roommate's
legs. It had taken a few tries, as Penelope had escaped twice, so
she'd had to remove her roommates leg garments a piece at a time.
Once she had the engine grease stained trousers in hand, she stood.
"I
refuse to allow my best friend to go out in such garish," she
dropped the green trousers into a laundry hamper, "and filthy,
clothes. Even if you are
stowing
away on an airship, you should at least start
clean."
Rada
opened Penelope's wardrobe and found a new, clean, pair of light
brown canvas trousers and tossed them to her roommate, who promptly
put them on.
"You
know, Rada," Penelope leaned forward, strapping her leggings back
on after collecting them, "You could have asked me to change."
"Oh,
but that wouldn't have been nearly as fun,
darling," the older roommate teased, going back to the loveseat,
and her coffee.
Likewise,
Penelope returned to her seat at the table. By some small miracle,
neither of them had been spilled in the melee. A fact they were both
grateful for, as neither of them wanted to try to get coffee out of
the dorm room carpet. She finished off her cup, and refilled it. It
was nearly midnight now, and she still had some preparing to do.
That
was when a knock came at the door, giving them both a start.
Penelope went to answer, being closer, and opened the door just wide
enough to peek through at the angry looking, nightgown and cap clad,
possum on the other side.
Penelope
slipped out the door once it became clear that the young possum woman
was going to be complaining for a while. After about ten minutes,
she returned, assuring their neighbor they would keep quiet for the
rest of the night, and wishing her luck on the presentation she was
giving in the morning.
Once
Penelope got the door closed again she leaned her back on it and let
out a long breath, followed by a short laugh.
"Well,
I have a few things to get packed yet," the young tabby stood and
started to search the room, "have you seen my travel tool kit
lately?"
"It's
in the cabinet by the door, dear heart," Rada finished her coffee,
"Where it usually goes."
Penelope
opened the cabinet she was directed to, "Ah, thank you!" she
snatched the kit up from where it lay. It was then added to her
leather messenger bag, which was placed in the duffle bag. She then
stood in the middle of the room, looking around, trying to think of
anything she might have forgotten.
-----------------------------------------------
Rada
continued to lounge on the loveseat under the shuttered window, but
found herself staring at her petite roommate standing in the middle
of the room. She realized she was admiring the felines figure, and
was feeling a bit of a lump form in her chest as she did so, hear
heart trying to pick up pace. Making it a little hard to breath.
She
stood, clearing her throat, and went to the coffee maker to refill
her cup. Had she fallen for her roommate? She considered the
possibility as she stirred cream and sugar into the dark brown
liquid. Penelope was wonderful to be around, and she loathed the
thought of not having met her. But, love? She was a dear, sweet,
close friend of course. The best she had ever had. But in love with
her?
Penelope
tied and clipped the opening of her duffle bag with a metallic
*SNAP*.
"Well,
near as I can tell," she dropped the large bag next to the door,
"that's everything I can think of that I would need."
Penelope
retrieved her coat and goggles from the peg on the wall, "I should
head out," she cast a glance at the clock there, "since it's
almost two in the morning now. The airfield is across town, so it
will take me a bit to walk there," she shrugged into her knee
length, dark brown, leather coat, and strapped the goggles to her
forehead.
She
checked to make sure her hair was still secured in a ponytail,
grabbed an old flat cap she had hanging by the door, then slung the
large duffle bag across her back, it's strap across her chest. She
had the door halfway open, and about to bid her roommate farewell
when Rada spoke first.
"Penny,
darling?" the words caught in Radas throat.
"Hm?
Did I forget something?" Penelope turned to look at her friend.
"N-no,"
Rada suddenly realized how beautifully the light seemed to shimmer in
Penelope's crystal blue eyes, "I... I just wanted to tell you to
take care, and stay safe," her heart lurched in her chest, "Do
send word when you get there, will you?"
Penelope
smiled warmly, "Of course, Rada. See you when I get back!"
A
moment later the door shut behind the soon-to-be-stowaway. With that
smile, Rada knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt. Somehow, somewhere
along the line, she had fallen in love with her best friend.
-----------------------------------------------
Penelope
reached the airfield at eight in the morning, and the sun was just
starting to redden the sky. The morning chill was still heavy in the
air, and even through her clothes and fur, she could feel it.
She
stood across the street from the terminals entrance, examining the
building and tall fence surrounding it. Truth be told, she hadn't
really planned on just how she was going to stowaway on this airship.
She still needed to get into the airfield, find the right airship,
and then find a way on board, all without being seen.
After
taking a deep breath of cold air, pulled the brim of her flat cap to
cover her eyes, turned her coat collar up pulling it closer at the
same time. Then marched across the street, and into the terminal
building.
Once
inside, she looked around to find the morning's flight postings. The
large wood and brass flap display dominated the far side of the
terminal, she saw three listings for Rome, Italy from where she
entered. Luckily, she discovered as she got closer, only one was
scheduled for departure at nine in the morning. Flight number 207,
the Agatha Dyne.
Penelope
glanced at the large clock which stood in the middle of the open
marble floor. She had about fifty minutes to find away on board that
airship, and judging from the line already forming there, the gate
was not an option.
She
looked around for another way out to the airfield. She saw three
options, the doors for: baggage handling, ground crew, and flight
crew.
Baggage
handling consisted of steam powered conveyor belts, pneumatic
armatures, and automatic marking systems. What little room there was
for people didn't even go outside. The only way to the airfield by
that rout was as
baggage.
There was a reason they warned travelers not to put living cargo in
there, it often didn't make it out in the same state. The only
advantage to that option was that it would potentially deposit her
directly onto the airship.
So
that was dropped to: if absolutely nothing else works.
Flight
crew was generally allowed to bypass the lines, but they still had to
show identification as such, which consisted of a specially made,
brass, punch card. Which she didn't have, nor did she have what
she needed to make a copy, not to mention it would take too long.
And they still went through the boarding gate, meaning she stood a
high chance of being recognized as not belonging, or seen by the
Professor or Tips. Who would likely send her home.
So
that
option
was pretty well out.
That
left the ground crew entrance. It held the least number of
complications, and would give her an opportunity to board unnoticed.
This would, basically, consist of walking through the hangar access
doors, then locating the correct ship, and finding a way on that no
one was minding.
The
problem was that most ground crews knew each other quite well, and it
was unlikely they would take kindly to an intruder. She would have
to be careful.
Penelope
glanced at the big clock again, it read a quarter after eight, she
had forty five minutes to get aboard that airship. She took headed
for the nearest door she saw labeled 'Ground Crew Only,'
thankfully it was unlocked.
The
second she passed through the door she was hit with a wall of noise.
Everything from massive compressor pumps to steam powered lathes. If
she hadn't been darting from one hiding place to the next, she
would have been in heaven.
The
young tabby took the most direct path to the huge doors to the
airfield as she could. Though she often had to stop for what seemed
like ages, whenever she heard workers nearby. The experience was the
most nerve racking thing she had ever done. Surpassing even what
she had felt the day she followed Emrys after class, ultimately
meeting Tips. Her heart was racing, threatening to leap from her
throat onto the brick floor.
When
she finally reached the doors it took her a minute to locate the
Agatha Dyne, which was already loading passengers. Two of whom, she
recognized from here as Emrys and Tips. Who were not looking in her
direction, nor was the wind blowing towards them, she noted with
relief.
She
checked her duffle bag on her back, to make sure it was well
situated, squared her cap, checked for nearby workers. When all
seemed clear, and made a bee-line for the next nearest obstacle to
her destination. Once there, she settled in a crevice of the piece
of loading equipment and looked to the next piece of cover. Keeping
her ears swiveling in every direction, listening for any sound of
having been detected.
There
was only one more between her and what looked to be a maintenance
hatch on the airship, and it was notably closer to her current
position than the hatch. She swallowed back the growing lump in her
throat, and was suddenly glad to have had nothing to eat or drink
since the coffee she had at her dorm room. If she had eaten anything
since, she was certain she would have thrown up, from the stress, by
this point.
Things
looked to be clear to the next bit of cover, so she went for it.
Penelope
made it there safely, but found little space to hide herself while
she waited for her next, and last, opportunity to move. She ended up
crouched next to the stack of empty supply crates. Hoping she would
be mistaken for, well, anything that wasn't someone trying to
stowaway on an airship. Needless to say, she really wished she'd
had more time to plan this little endeavor. As it was, she was
working it out as she went along.
This
time, she reasoned, he had to wait for more than just a clear run.
She had to wait until the airship was just about to take off. Then
sprint across the large open space between her and the maintenance
hatch, get it open, and get inside before it was too far off the
ground.
She
would time her run with the last group of passengers boarding. When
they got to the bottom of the ramp, she would make her break for the
hatch.
Just
then she felt the wind, though her whiskers, shift towards the
boarding line, and Emrys and Tips. She ducked behind the crates she
was next to, hoping they didn't see her.
-----------------------------------------------
The
Professor stood halfway up the boarding ramp to the Agatha Dyne,
contemplating the implications of the details of the note he had
gotten from Detective Widget the day before.
If
it was an organization, this Agares, things may get quite difficult,
quite fast. Depending on how far their reach went. If they were old
enough, and big enough, he and Tips may be fighting a very uphill
battle.
He
felt the wind change though his whiskers and fur. Along with it, he
picked out a familiar smell: machine grease mixed with metal dust and
a hint of perfume.
He
looked out towards where it came from, but couldn't see any sign of
his young assistant. Only a few remaining ground crew workers,
cleaning up the last of the resupply refuse from the Agatha. Had he
imagined it? He tapped his wife on the arm.
"Tips,"
he inquired as the took another few steps up the ramp, "Did you
smell Penelope, just now? With the wind change."
His
wife looked around, sniffing he air, "I smell a lot of similar
things," she confirmed taking another few steps up, "besides the
normal smells of machine shops and tools, there is a perfume on the
air, not unlike the one she carries."
They
were almost on board when they heard a shout, over the noise of the
engines, that pulled their attention to the ground near the aft end
of the airship. The same direction the familiar scent had come from.
-----------------------------------------------
Penelope
jumped when she heard the shout, loud enough to be heard clearly over
the din of the airship's propellers.
"YOU
THERE!" the booming voice came again, "STAND FIRM! YOU'RE NOT
ON MY CREW! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"
Penelope
neither replied nor hesitated, she sprinted for the maintenance
hatch.
"STOP!"
she heard, and felt, who she assumed was a foreman, give thunderous
chase, "WE GOT A STOWAWAY! HEADING FOR THE AFT MAINTENANCE HATCH...
I SAID STOP,
RASCAL!"
Not
daring to look back at her pursuer, she continued at top speed for
the, now confirmed, maintenance hatch. The airship was starting to
rise off the ground. But she was almost there, she could see a
short, grated, walkway jutting out beneath it. If she could get to
that, she would be safe.
When
she was feet away, she leapt for the platform... And stopped midair,
promptly swinging upside down by her legs. She barely caught her
duffle bag, as it slipped over her head toward the ground. Her flat
cap fell from her head unhindered.
"HA!"
the massive bull laughed, "Got you, girly. You're not getting a
free flight today, I'm afraid."
Penelope
considered the foreman, he must have been nearly eight feet tall, a
solid wall of muscle. He didn't seem particularly angry or
unfriendly, though. In spite of dangling her upside down, he
actually seemed quite gentle. Moreover, he was just doing his job,
so she didn't want to hurt him. Nothing permanent at least, so her
knives were out of the question.
"Well,
Girly?" he asked, "Anything to say for yourself?"
She
shot him a wry grin, remembering the things Tips had been teaching
her the past few years.
"Yep!
I'm late for my flight!" with that, she twisted around and swung
her duffle up, and tossed it to the platform beneath the maintenance
hatch. It hit, and landed smoothly against the hatch itself.
She
then swung herself back toward the bull holding her, "Sorry about
this!" she yelled to him, reaching over his thumb and digging her
claws into the thick hide covering his first knuckle. It would hurt
like hell, but wouldn't cause any permanent damage to him there. It
also gave her a good grip when he let go of her legs.
"YYAAOOW!"
the foreman bellowed, releasing the girl's legs and throwing the hand
he held the young woman with in the air, trying to get it away from
her.
Penelope
held on for the few moments it took to pull her paws up under her.
Then, at the apex hands backwards ark, she leapt off, launching
herself towards the slowly rising platform. Which was now upwards of
fifteen feet in the air already.
She
caught the ledge, barely, and pulled herself up. Quickly slinging
her duffle bag across her back again, and pulling her goggles down
over her eyes, she turned to wave at the foreman.
"SORRY
FOR CLAWING YOUR HAND, SIR!" she shouted to him, "BUT I REALLY
COULDN'T
MISS THIS FLIGHT! ...AND THANKS FOR THE BOOST, TOO!" she added
with a chuckle.
The
foreman stared up at her in amazement, rubbing his hand where she had
dug her claws into it. He smiled back at her, and waved, shaking his
head. He stopped momentarily, seeing her flat cap, and bent to pick
it up. She was too high up now to throw it to her, so he stuffed it
in his pocket. He had a feeling that he would encounter her again
some time.
Penelope
then turned to the hatch and tried to open it. Locked. This was not
good. She should have expected it to be so, but she had been in such
a rush, the possibility had completely slipped her mind.
Nonetheless, she started looking for a means to release the lock from
this side of the hatch.
She
tried not to panic as the winds on the outside of the airship quickly
grew stronger, and more violent. The platform she stood on was only
slightly wider than the hatch itself, and had only two guard rails.
She was terrified she would be swept off at any moment. Looking down
through the grating the platform was made of, made the fear double
instantly. She was already more than eighty feet in the air, and
climbing fast.
She
clung to railing, racing through possible ways to open the locked
hatch. Pry it open with a screwdriver from her tool kit? No, she
didn't have the space to retrieve it from inside her duffle, and
would probably lose it in the process, either by breaking it, or to
the chaotically powerful winds.
Disassemble
this side of the lock mechanism? No, that would still require her
tool kit.
Maybe
she could tap the pins out of the hinges on the hatch? She looked at
them. They were one inch diameter bolts, with the nuts welded in
place. That was no good.
She
looked down again, the airfield looked like a part of a large, O
scale, diorama now. She clung tighter to the railing. She had to
find a way inside the hatch, and soon. The air was going to get
really thin soon. THINK, she had to THINK!
*CLUNK-SQUEEEEEK-CLUNK*
Penelope
looked at the hatch, it was unlocked, from the inside. Who?
She
reached out and grabbed the metal handle, and strained against the
wind to pull it open. Once it was open far enough for her to squeeze
through with her duffle bag, she ducked through, barely pulling her
tail in before the wind slammed the hatch shut again with a loud;
*CA-CHUM*
She
sat down hard against the wall of the maintenance corridor, gasping,
nearly in tears from the fear and exhilaration.
"Thank...
Thank you," she gasped, trying to catch her breath, "You saved my
life, thank you. I can... repay you by working in the engines... I
have a bachelor's... degree in Engineering... just... PLEASE...
don't throw me off the ship..."
"Oh,
I don't think either will be necessary, Ms. Penelope Reuthe..."
She
froze when she heard that stern voice, it was never good when he used
her full name, "H-hello, Professor..." she slowly looked up at
her friends, "a-and Tips..." they both had their arms crossed as
they looked down at her. Their expressions made it quite clear just
how much trouble she was in.
She
mustered a weak smile, "Um... F-f-fancy meeting you here?...heh..."
~Chapter 3~
~Better
Than Expected~
The
trio sat at a table in the Agatha Dyne's saloon. At the time of
Penelope's harrowing arrival on the airship, little had been said
about it. Instead, Tips had bounced between fussing over the girl,
and scolding her for doing something so foolhardy.
Emrys,
on the other hand, had been disturbingly stoic. After they had
deposited her things in their cabin, he had gone to the captain and
explained the situation, ultimately paying for an extra ticket to
cover his assistants passage. He had hardly spoken to Penelope, or
for that matter, even looked at her until now. He sat across the
table from her at the table, his red-gold eyes seeming to burn holes
in the air between them.
"First
off." he finally began, after a silence that lasted a little too
long, "I'm glad you're alright. You're supremely lucky you
weren't swept off the side of the hull with that damned fool stunt.
But, I'm sure you are already well aware of that fact."
His
young assistant, head already bowed in shame and wringing her hands
between her knees, nodded at that. She was still shaking a bit,
though it may have been more from anxiety at this point, rather than
fear and adrenaline.
"That
being said; what possessed you to do this in the first place?" he
leaned forward over the table, "Especially when I had told you to
stay behind, I was counting on you to handle my classes while I was
away, and..."
Tips
placed a silver tipped hand on the Professor's shoulder, "Let her
answer, Love."
Emrys
sat back again, letting out a sigh, taking his wife's hand in his,
"Well, I must say, I feel rather disappointed in you right now,
Penny."
Penelope
winced at that last statement. Somehow, disappointment was always so
much worse than anger from others. Considerably more painful too.
"I-I
know you told me to stay and take care of things at the university,
Professor," she confessed, "but, after hearing what you told the
detective, I just had to see for myself," when Emrys didn't say
anything she continued, starting to speak a bit too fast, "A-and, I
did make sure everything on your schedule for the month was covered
by someone qualified! I got Professor Feral to take care of your
demonstrations, and Professors Morris and Valentine to trade off on
your lectures about hazardous artifacts, and-and the Professors
Foglio to give your lecture on the technology of ancient
civilizations..." she continued for several minutes, rattling off
everything she had worked on the evening before.
"I
made sure all the necessary paperwork was filed, and... and I'm
sorry, I know this was selfish, but I didn't want to left behind
again, a-and I wanted to be with you guys, and-and-and..." she
finally trailed off, casting her eyes down to her paws again.
Emrys
released Tips' hand and let out a long breath, "It's alright,
I'm glad you made sure things would be taken care of. But that
wasn't the only reason I wanted you to stay behind. It's going
to be dangerous, we have no idea what we'll actually be dealing
with once we get there."
He
leaned forward to wrest his arms on the table, "This isn't likely
to be a regular dig, Penny. I know you feel confident about this,
and I appreciate your enthusiasm for the field, but this expedition
is just too dangerous if you don't have the experience," Emrys
started to stand, "Now, I'm going to go speak with the captain
again, she's taking the ship back to Washington after we reach
Rome, I should be able to arrange for him to take you back home
where-"
Penelope
stood suddenly, slamming her fists on the table as she did so, "I'M
NOT A KITTEN ANYMORE, DAMN IT! WHY CAN'T YOU SEE THAT?! I GOT ON
THIS SHIP ON MY OWN, I CAN HANDLE MYSELF JUST FINE! I brought all
the tools I should need, and between that and Tips' training...and...
and... I'M
COMING WITH YOU!"
"NO!"
Emrys exploded, standing to his full height, his voice akin to the
roar of a cannon firing line, "YOU SAY YOU'RE NOT A KITTEN
ANYMORE? WELL YOU'RE DOING A HELL OF A JOB SHOWING IT! AN ADULT
WOULDN'T
HAVE TRIED TO STOW AWAY ON AN AIRSHIP, AND NEARLY GOTTEN THEMSELVES
KILLED! NOR WOULD THEY ABANDON THE RESPONSIBILITIES SOMEONE WAS
COUNTING ON THEM FOR! YOU'RE!
GOING! HOME!"
They
glared for what seemed like an eternity, fuming at each other. Tears
began welling up in Penelope's eyes. After a few moments, she ran
from the saloon, sobbing loudly.
Emrys
dropped his balled up fists to the table top, letting his head swing
down as well. Tips punched him in the arm, hard.
"What
the hell was that?" his wife chided, "You know
what
she thinks of you, beyond
having
been smitten with you for years. She idolizes you."
"Are
you saying I should just overlook this? She's already nearly
gotten herself killed once," he tilted his head towards Tips, "you
know
things
are only going to get worse once we get to Rome. I..."
He
paused there for a moment, Tips took the opportunity to jump in,
"You're trying to protect her, I get that, but she's right.
She is an adult now, and has been making her own choices for quite
some time now, I might add."
"She's
not ready," Emrys seethed, "and this impulsive stunt is-"
"Not
that different from your
impulsive
stunt," Tips cut her husband off, "you're
the one who suddenly decided to take off for Italy to find some
ancient super weapon. Ditching all of your
obligations,
I might add, on her."
Emrys
stood and rubbed his temples, "Yes, ok, I
get it,
I'm being a jerk and a hypocrite," he turned a to look at his
wife, "But I have
training,
and
experience. I can handle things if, and when,
they go bad. The same goes for you!" he motioned in Tips'
direction, "All she has is a bachelor's degree, a few years of
your training, and a head filled with fantastic stories of exotic
adventures."
Tips
stood now, fixing her silver eyes on her husbands, "Are you saying
there's something wrong with my training, Dear?"
"What?
No! Ahg, you know what I mean," he sputtered in frustration,
"It's like she's practiced and studied everything about
swimming and the ocean, then goes and tries to swim across the
Atlantic without ever even jumping in a pool! It's a good way to
get killed," he let out an exasperated breath, "rather quickly at
that."
Tips
approached Emrys and set her hands on his chest, looking up slightly,
into his eyes, "I know, Emrys. But when you went on your
first
expedition, did you know what you were getting into? Or how
dangerous it really was?"
After
a moment the Professor wrapped his arms around Tips' waist, "No,"
he conceded, sighing heavily, "I was just about the same as her, I
guess. All enthusiasm and no sense," he smiled and gave his wife a
loving squeeze, adding, "It did get me you, though."
"That
it did," she smiled back at him wrapping her arms over his
shoulders, and gave him a brief kiss on the muzzle, "but right now,
there's a scared, and hurt, young tabby girl on this ship who needs
her mentor, and an apology."
The
busty black leopard released Emrys' shoulders, poking his nose with
the pad of one finger, and turned toward the passengers' quarters,
"I, on the other hand, heard that there is a bath house with a
sauna on this airship," she walked to the hatch for the passengers'
quarters, "I intend to make excessive
use
of it."
Tips
stopped, before she ducked through the hatch, and turned to her
husband, a look of concern on her face, "If Penny needs someone
more to talk too, let her know where to find me, ok?"
The
Professor smiled at his wife, "I'll let her know... Love you!"
"Love
you, too," she tossed back to him as she closed the hatch behind
her.
Emrys
stood, alone now, in the saloon of the airship. He looked around,
locating the direction in which his assistant had run off, starting
to follow. He stopped after a few steps, turned, and headed for
their cabin, deciding to retrieve something from there first.
Once
there, he fiddled with a set of four brass rings, placed just under
the headpiece of the staff. He quickly and carefully rotated each of
the rings so that the numbers marked on them, counting zero to nine,
lined up with notches on cuffs framed them.
After
he dialed the desired combination into the staff, he pulled the
bottom two rings down the shaft, opening a glowing black ovoid
between the top and bottom two rings. He reached through and pulled
out a small, stained and varnished, wooden box.
After
checking the contents, he closed the void in his staff, set the dial
rings to zero, and set off to locate his distressed assistant.
-----------------------------------------------
It
took Emrys only about fifteen minutes to find Penelope. Who was
curled up in the corridor outside the ship's engine room, still
sobbing, though more quietly now.
He
stopped about five paces away from her, "Hey there, sweetheart,"
he spoke gently.
Her
ears perked up for a second, then laid back down, "What do you
want?" she sniffed back more tears, "just leave me alone."
"I
won't do that, Penny," Emrys moved to the opposite side of the
corridor and sat on the floor, "I'm sorry I yelled at you, and
for treating you like a kitten. It was uncalled for, and I know I
set the example as well. So again, I'm sorry, Penny."
"So..."
Penelope pulled her head from her arms, her fur looked like she had
been sprayed with a hose, "you-you're not mad?"
The
Professor couldn't help but give her a sympathetic smile, "No.
To be honest, I wasn't much different than you, when I was starting
out. And," he took a breath and let it out, "I did, and still
tend to, do the same sort of thing, too."
"So...*sniff*...
when will I be getting back to the university then?..." his
assistant wiped at her face, attempting to dry and smooth her fur
with the sleeves of her leather coat. It wasn't working very well.
"Well..."
Emrys scratched his chin with one hand, "how does the end of the
month sound?"
Penelope
stopped and turned to look at him, eyes wide with surprise and
disbelief, "Really? I-I can stay... I mean, come with you?"
"Yes,"
the wolf chuckled, "you can stay and
come
with us."
The
young tabbies' eyes began to sparkle with joy as a wide grin spread
across her features.
"There
is one condition," her mentor continued, holding up a finger, "I
need you to promise
that
you will do as we tell you, when
we
tell you to do it, ok? I wasn't exaggerating when I said things
are likely to get very dangerous, so this could mean life and death."
Penelope,
still clearly excited and happy, vigorously nodded her head. She
attempted, and failed, to look as solemn as possible at the same
time, "YES! I promise, whatever you tell me, I'll get it done. I
promise! THANK
YOU!"
she was bouncing on her knees at this point.
Emrys
stood, "Well then, why don't we get back to the cabin, we still
need to figure out sleeping arrangements," he stopped, as if
remembering something, "Oh,
I almost forgot."
"What
is it, Professor?" Penelope inquired, still giddy as he helped her
stand, but looking slightly wary at his sudden recollection.
"There
was something I meant to give you," after he got his assistant
standing again, he reached into his large, leather hip pouch, and
retrieved the small wooden box he had collected from his staff
earlier. Placing it in her hands.
She
opened the box to find a find silvery chain with a semi-spherical
crystal, each in a small silver cage, at each end, "It's
beautiful... but, um, what is it?" she held it up by one end,
looking grateful, but confused.
"That
little bauble," he explained, "is a 'Resonance Signature
Pendulum.' It's used to locate objects with a particular energy
signature. There are a few different ways to use them. It's a
fairly standard tool for most Technomages. Most of us start off
learning with one, it's a good way to introduce a lot of the
concepts we use regularly."
Penelope's
eyes went wide as she looked from the small, dangling, device to the
Professor.
"Tec-Technomage?"
she stammered in disbelief, "M-me?"
Emrys
grinned, "Well, Apprentice
Technomage
for now. It's not exactly something you can learn overnight," he
paused before adding, "Assuming you want the position, of course.
I had been planning on offering it to you when I got back to the
university. But since you're coming with us now-OOF!"
He
was cut off by the sudden, impacting, hug from the young feline
woman.
"I
ACCEPT," she was crying again, though this time with sheer joy, and
grinning from ear to ear, "Yes! Of course I accept the offer.
Thank you!"
Emrys
returned the hug, then pried the excessively happy Penelope from his
chest, "Well, Apprentice,
why don't you go get yourself cleaned up. The fur on your face is
all wet, and full of dirt as well as the grease and whatnot from the
equipment you dived through at the airfield. And you smell like
you've been up since yesterday, with only a change of clothes.
Some sleep may be in order as well."
"Ok,"
she sniffed, still grinning, and wiped at her whiskers and eyes,
"umm, heh, when do we start lessons?"
"As
soon as you're clean, ready, and rested," Emrys replied, ushering
her down the hall alongside him, "Tips is making use of the bath
house sauna, if you want some company, and I'll be in our cabin."
"Ok,"
Penelope could barely contain herself the whole way back to the
passenger deck. She and the Professor parted ways in the passageway
outside their cabin, Emrys directing her to the bath house while he
took her coat. She asked him to hold on to her new pendulum while
she was in the bath. Then she set off, skip-running down the hall,
giddily chattering to herself the whole way.
-----------------------------------------------
Tips
lay on her back, on the bench in the sauna, thick steam swirling
around her. Her lean, muscular, figure free of clothing. She took
in a long, deep breath and let it out. This was the most relaxed she
had been in months, at least since that expedition in South America
she and Emrys had been on. Most of the year, Washington was far too
cold for her liking. Who would have thought she would find someplace
this warm and steamy in a vehicle traveling several hundred feet in
the air? At least, that wasn't an engine room.
She
stretched, still surprised at the amount of space they had managed to
set aside for such a luxury. Though still not huge, two or three
more people could have fit comfortably in the steam room with her.
And
for the moment, at least, she had it all to herself.
Tips
examined her fingertips, the silver fur covering them was beginning
to clump together in the humidity. She noted that it made them look
like small blades at the end of each finger. Amusing, considering
the very real, and very sharp, claws sheathed within them.
The
metallic tips in her otherwise jet black fur, from which her nickname
was derived, were mirrored on both her fingers and toes, as well as
the otherwise rounded tips of her ears. She enjoyed the implications
of the rather cute moniker: pretty, cute, more than a little sexy,
and equally dangerous given the motivation.
She
craned her neck to look at the large clock set into the wall, it had
already been nearly forty minutes. She hoped her husband's talk with
Penelope was going well. Tips hated seeing either of them so upset.
As
if to allay her unspoken concern, she heard a familiar giggle in the
main room of the bath house. It was followed by the sound of running
water.
Tips
stood and went to the sauna door, opening it just enough to peek out.
The panthers, self-adoptive, little sister sat in front of one of
the wash stations near the heated pool, giggling and chattering to
herself as she bathed. The petite feline seemed completely unaware
she was being observed.
Tips
got a wicked idea, and carefully closed the sauna door. Pressing her
ear against the inside surface, she listened intently to the younger
woman's actions.
"Tips?!"
Penelope called out, suddenly enough to make the older feline jump
back from the door, "Tips, the Professor said you were in here!
You there?"
Tips
rubbed the ringing, caused by the sudden loud voice, out of her ear,
"Yeah, I'm in the sauna, Sis! Is everything alright with you and
Emrys now?"
The
young woman giggled again, "Yep! Better than alright!"
Tips
could hear the sound of fur being shampooed. Now was her chance.
She pulled a hand towel off the rack inside the sauna, and tied it
around her chest. The small rectangle of white terrycloth was barely
long enough to contain her, even pulled corner to corner. But it
would hold, at least long enough.
She
carefully opened the sauna door, just enough for her to fit through,
and silently prowled on all fours around the edge of the room. Being
sure to stay directly behind the line of sight of the, now fully
lathered, tabby.
Tips
moved as if there was pole linking her to the back of Penelope's
head, careful not to make a sound. She watched as her would-be
sister rinsed the soap from her fur, then moved to the edge of the
heated pool. Tips positioned herself with the smaller feline between
her and the center of the pool, and scrunched up with her hands
between her paws. Her long black tail whipping back and forth in the
air behind her. Her silver eyes twinkling evilly.
"Hey,
Tips!" Penelope called out, "I'm getting in the pool to soak
for a bit! Wanna join me?"
Tips
didn't reply, as to not give away her position.
"Tips?"
Penelope called, turning toward the sauna. Tips chose that moment to
pounce. Tackling the five foot tabby girl into the heated pool.
*SPLOOSH*
The
two felines, now soaked from head to toe, surfaced with Tips body
hugging Penelope from behind. Tips' chest towel had let go mid
leap.
"Hi,
Sis," Tips greeted, playfully biting the younger felines ear as she
stood, still holding the younger woman, "good to see you're
feeling better."
Penelope
coughed and sputtered, "TIIIPS!"
she struggled to break free, only to find her head wedged deeper in
black fur covered cleavage, "Why would you do that!?" she
grimaced.
"Because
it's fun," Tips chuckled, "and you left yourself open."
"I'm
taking a bath!" the younger feline retorted, struggling a little
more against her captors' body.
"Your
point?" Tips teased, letting the smaller woman slip out of the
hold.
"My
point," Penelope sank to her chest in the shallow pool, turning to
face her would-be older sister, "is that... YOU'RE SO
GONNA
GET IT!"
With
that, Penelope lunged out of the water at Tips. The two splashed,
wrestled and laughed for a good while, neither really getting the
upper hand. Eventually, they settled into a corner of the pool, half
facing each other, out of breath, exhausted and soaked through.
"Not
bad," Tips gasped, halfheartedly splashing her junior, "for a
little ball of orange fluff."
Penelope
splashed Tips back, "Heh, thanks, Sis," she laughed, still
breathing hard, "so long as I can manage to get around," she
splashed Tips again, "those big fuzzy balloons on your chest, I'm
fine."
"HA!
Good one, you're just jealous," Tips splashed a wave of water at
her adoptive sister, "And I will
kick
your ass for that one later."
The
two half floated there in silence for a few moments. Only the
occasional splash or chuckle. Penelope eventually sat up, breaking
the silence.
"Bring
it on, Sis," she dipped herself in the water, smoothing her fur out
again as she surfaced, "Nothing is going to get me down right now.
Things are just too wonderful."
"Oh?"
Tips sat up and did the same, "What did you and Emrys talk about?"
Penelope
turned to Tips, grinning from ear to ear, "Well, first, he told me
I could come with on this expedition," the excited tabby somehow
managed to grin even wider, "He offered to make me is apprentice!"
she giggled and bounced in the water, making small waves slosh around
her.
"And..."
Tips leaned forward in anticipation.
"I
accepted! I'm going to be a Technomage!" the younger feline
squealed.
"Great!"
Tips hugged her would-be sister, "I'm so proud of you, Penny!
Though, you do
realize
everything gets stepped up from here, right?"
"I
don't care," Penelope returned the hug, "I get to learn things
so
far beyond what's 'normal'," she let out a soft giggle, "and,
best of all, I get to stay around the two of you more."
After
a few moments, the two released each other from the embrace. They
continued to converse in the pool for some time. Eventually, they
dried off and returned to their shared cabin, laughing and talking
the whole way.
-----------------------------------------------
Emrys
looked up from his notes as his companions walked in, carrying their
clothes, clad in terry cloth bath robes. He had heard them coming
down the passageway, as well as the scent of soap, rose water and
static electricity. Somehow, he realized as they came through the
door, Penelope still managed to carry her usual scent, though greatly
subdued beneath the smell of the bath. The both of them looked a
good deal fluffier than usual, likely due to the act of drying off
after bathing. It also explained the scent of static electricity in
the air around them.
"Good
afternoon, Ladies," he closed his notebook and sat back in his
seat, "feeling better after the bath?"
Tips
spoke first, "Oh, so
much
better," she moved to the second door in the cabin, which led to
the bedroom, "between the sauna, and the good news; I think we're
both doing much better now."
Penelope
deposited her folded clothes on top of her duffle bag, snatched up
the wooden box containing her new technomage tool, and plopped down
in a chair across the table from Emrys. Prompting him to raise an
eyebrow at her.
"I'm
glad to see you're still so excited, Penny," he smirked, "but
weren't you going to get some rest before we started?" Emrys
could tell she was way too excited to sleep, but he brought it up
anyway.
"I
don't think she could sleep if she wanted to," Tips piped in from
the bedroom with a laugh, "She has far too much energy, bouncing up
and down so much she was cresting six inch waves in the pool."
Penelope
looked a bit bashful with the comment, "I'm not tired anyway, I
really just want to get started. Please?"
"Oh,
let her get a start on it now," Emrys felt his wife press up
against his shoulders and, with a momentary shortness of breath, he
realized she was topless.
"Oh,
alright," standing, he went to his staff and began working the
combination dial on it, "certainly can't say no when two
beautiful women are insisting."
Penelope
gave a small fist-pump with both arms, letting out a quiet, "YESSS,"
then promptly retrieved her shoulder bag, and the analytical engine
book within, before returning to her seat at the table.
Tips
stretched her arms behind her head, letting out a soft groan of
exertion, "Well, I'm going to take a nap. So you two have fun.
And do try not to blow up the ship."
"No
guarantees," the Professor chuckled back, pulling another glowing
black ovoid open on his staff, and reaching inside, "but I will
make sure that we at least make it to our destination in one piece.
Sleep well, Dear."
The
bedroom door closed behind Tips, and Emrys retracted his hand from
the, roughly, head sized void in his staff, holding a stack of old
notebooks. He closed the space and reset the rings to zero, when he
stood to return to the table he saw his new apprentice staring at
him, and the staff, eyes wide with astonished fascination.
"What
was that?"
she asked, opening her own notebook on the table.
"That,"
Emrys explained, "is a spatial dilator, with a four place numeric
combination dial," he sat down across the table from his
apprentice, "and the subject of a much
later
lesson. That being said, I will show you how to use it later, if you
like. But right now, we start with the basics."
He
opened one of the notebooks he had just retrieved, and set it down in
front of Penelope. The page described, in Emrys' own handwriting,
how all matter carried a unique signature of energy. That it can be
used to locate a particular object if you can identify its signature
amongst those that surround it.
"That's
one of my old journals, from when I was getting started," he
explained, "You can go ahead and hold on to it for now. It's the
closest thing to a text book we're going to have."
"I'll
take good care of it..." Penelope paused for a moment, confused,
"Ma-ster?"
Emrys
chuckled at the new title, shaking his head, "Don't worry about
calling me that. I don't really care for it. Though I concede it
is, technically
accurate,"
he let out a bemused sigh, "If you still insist on calling me by a
tile, 'Professor' is much preferred."
"Ok,"
the young apprentice smiled bashfully, "I'll take good care of
it, Professor."
"Now,
your first lesson," the wolf reconsidered his words, "and the
first rule, in a way: remember that nothing
is
impossible. Extremely unlikely.
Astronomically improbable.
Yes... But not
impossible."
Penelope
gave him an uncertain look, processing what he had just said, then
nodded her head, quickly writing it down in her own note book.
"In
the end, the term 'impossible' is often used as an excuse for
failure," Emrys continued, "by those who are afraid of it. There
have been a great many things that have been said to be 'impossible'
which were later proven to be
possible.
In such cases, it's often that some piece of information was
missing, or the technology to make the idea a reality simply didn't
exist yet."
"So,
in short," he summed up, "anything can be achieved, so long as
you can discern the how and why of it."
His
apprentice nodded in understanding, taking down the summery in her
notebook.
"Now,
before we go any further," Emrys' tone became quite stern.
"something we must always consider with what we do. Many of the
tools and technology we employ could be extremely dangerous in
uncaring hands."
Penelope
looked up from her notes, her expression solemn, "Like this lens
device we are looking for now?"
The
Professor nodded, "Exactly, I assume you remember what I told the
detective about the one, supposed, test firing?"
"You
said it was thought to have triggered Mount Vesuvius' eruption,"
her ears drooped with the comprehension of what Emrys was implying,
"which destroyed the entire original city of Pompeii, along with
everyone who lived there."
"Technology
can be a wondrous and amazing thing," Emrys gestured to his staff,
"especially the technology we use, as Technomages. But we always
have to take care that it is not abused, ether by ourselves or those
we would give it to."
He
let out a breath, leaning across the table, he spoke more gently now,
"I'm not trying to scare you, Penny," he placed his hand on her
wrist, "I just want you to be fully aware of what you're agreeing
too in becoming my apprentice. And, eventually, a Technomage in your
own right."
Penelope
looked him in the eyes and nodded, "Alright,"
Emrys
leaned back in his chair again, "Part of what we do, is to help
advance scientific knowledge, and technological advancement. But, by
extension, we also have to help regulate it at times. Though this
primarily applies to our
own
technology; when and how we release it to society."
"You
are taking on much more than simply learning how to make and use
things far in advance of what is considered 'normal.' You are
taking on a terrible responsibility, to not only help the world move
forward, but to protect it from the things that would harm it. Even
if that is sometimes from the very tools we employ to protect it."
Penelope,
sobered by her mentors' explanation, nodded, "I understand,
Professor," she spoke as though she were swearing an oath, "and I
still accept the offer, and everything that comes with it. But..."
She
considered her words for a moment, "does that mean we hide what we
know from people?"
"No,
not particularly," the Professor affirmed, swelling with pride in
his new apprentice, "We limit what we reveal of some aspects of the
tools we use, until society is able to handle it. Or they come to
discover it on their own. Not doing so would be like handing an
infant an explosive with
the
detonator. Neither the infant or the surrounding area benefit from
the outcome."
Penelope
smiled, perking up with this continued explanation, resuming her note
taking.
"This
is the reason why," Emrys continued to explain, "even in this
modern age, we are seen as magicians and sorcerers. We don't hide
what we can do, though we generally don't blatantly wave it about.
Unless it becomes necessary to do so."
"But,
we don't hide it from them, or even the fact that we achieve the
magic we can do through science and technology. It's often simply
far enough beyond what they are familiar with or able to understand
at that time that they only view it on the most basic of levels."
"Like
that saying 'Any sufficiently advanced technology is
indistinguishable from magic?'" the young woman inquired.
"Yes,"
the Professor confirmed, "Though, I would say that it still is
magic, just well understood and defined."
"What
do you mean?" Penelope looked a bit confused, "isn't magic just
a concept derived from a lack of understanding? Once you understand
how it works, how can it still be magic?"
"Fair
point," Emrys conceded, "in a way, it can come down to whether
you still feel wonderment at it, even after you understand how it
works. Or does it become that much more amazing when you discover
it? Something to discuss more later."
"Returning
to what we were talking about in concern to 'regulating'
scientific and technological advancement." Emrys brought the
conversation back to its initial focus, "we never
keep
people from things they have discovered on their own. We may, and
often have, help them make that discovery. What we do as far as
regulating such things, has more to do with keeping people from
taking shortcuts, and using things they have yet to fully comprehend
the potential risks of."
His
apprentice nodded deeply, now fully understanding what he had been
meaning, "Again, like the device we're going after."
"Yes,
and no," the wolf stated, "there are weapons of similar
destructive power already, though none like this one. However, this
is a case of; powerful technology getting in the wrong hands."
Penelope
cocked her head at the Professor, "So this is a 'protect from the
abuse of technology' then?"
"Yes,"
Emrys confirmed, "and we will go more into that starting tomorrow.
For now, let's get you started on using that new pendulum I gave
you."
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