Panache and the Great Hunt for the Acryli-Beast

[Panache]

Panache and the Great Hunt for the Acryli-Beast

A Victorian Tale of Horror told in Chapters

Chapter 9


The Saltire gently rose higher and higher as Todd headed us Northward. I looked down at the very outskirts of Greenville and saw a pretty young mother pointing out our zeppelin to her three children who then waved at us. I smiled down at them, tipped my Captain’s cap, and returned their wave. One could imagine her excitedly telling her offspring “behold that magnificent zeppelin and her brave crew bound for adventure. See her dashing, handsome, and very well dressed kilted Captain looking to glorious horizon and his destiny. He must be..." at this point my train of thought was broken by the sudden intrusion of a rapidly speaking voice behind my shoulder.

“One can imagine the young mother pointing at our departing dirigible and sadly bidding her children to say farewell forever to the doomed explorers who will never again return to these mild and happy climes. Perhaps she warns these young ones of the horrors that befall those whose hubris causes them to challenge the bounds of reason and nature. She tells them how in her mind’s eye she sees the burned and shattered skeleton of the airship lying half buried in the frozen waste as polar bears tear apart the carcass of the vain and foolish Captain who promised his crew glory but brought them only damnation and …”

I whirled about to see Jake the reporter speaking dramatically into his silver recording device.

“Exactly what are you doing on my bridge?” I asked not entirely without rancor.

He looked annoyed and adjusting his glasses said “You’ve interrupted my train of thought!“

“Indeed, I imagine that must certainly be distressing.” Sadly my sarcasm seemed lost on him as he adjusted his glasses to peer at me with a bothered expression. I continued, “Again, what are you doing on my bridge?”

“I’m recording the events as they unfold. David gave me permission to go anywhere on the airship”

“Did he?” I frowned.

“Yes indeed. He even gave me a signed permission slip”

“I’m sure it never occurred to my colleague that having a member of the press standing beside me and dictating next to my ear might be a tad distracting from the actual operation of our zeppelin?”

“Oh it occurred to him. He was laughing a lot at the time just thinking about it. He told me you would get all huffy about it but to just ignore you.”

“Did he?” , my frown deepened.

“Most certainly” said Jake brightly.

“I am in charge on this airship you know. I even have an authentic Zeppelin Commander’s cap to prove it!” From the helm Todd turned to give me a dirty look.

Jake looked at the hat and remarked, “you know that style of headwear doesn’t go with a kilt at all. It just looks wrong…”

I cut him off, “well as I have stated before there is no such thing as the Kilt Police and therefore I feel pretty safe in wearing MY Captain’s hat on MY zeppelin!” I shot Todd a stern look and he returned his gaze forward.

“OK you’re the Captain. You have a hat which doesn't work with a kilt. But I have a note from David and if you’ve got a problem with it you should take it up with him.”

“I will. Tell me one thing, is there some particular reason that you are painting our departure in such a bleak and gloomy manner?”

“It’s literary convention.”

“Is it?” my frown had evolved into a grimace.

“Most certainly. You see if you bring that sense of doom and foreboding to the piece early on it really grabs the readers’ attention.”

“I see”

“So if you don’t mind I’d like to continue.”

I sighed and told Todd he had the bridge. “Ja Kaptain!” he exclaimed jauntily. I climbed up the ladder to the interior of the zeppelin.

As I left the gondola Jake resumed his narrative “…damnation, suffering, and death. One can hear the cracking of the Captain’s bones as the polar bears greedily eat his marrow…”

I sighed again and with a determined expression went to find David for a few words.


To Be Continued…

[Panache]

Panache and the Great Hunt for the Acryli-Beast

A Victorian Tale of Horror told in Chapters

Chapter 10

As I walked along the metal mesh gangway towards the observation deck I heard an English accented voice coming from a small alcove next one of the large helium cells. There the very fellow I sought stood speaking to our three new Security Ensigns. As I joined them all four turned to face me. Deciding that our newest members instruction took precendence over my complaints, I motioned for David to continue.

David smiled at Mr. Splash, Mr. BEEDEE, and Mr. Mender.

“Gentlemen, I must first ask if any of you three have any knowledge of proper zeppelin security protocol?” he asked.

“Not I”, said Mr. Splash

“Nor I”, said Mr. BEEDEE

“Actually I have assisted in several balloon flights. Does that count?”, said Mr. Mender brightly.

David regarded Mr. Mender scornfully. “Did your balloons have eight 560 horsepower Maybach VL-2 engines?”

“Well no”.

“20 Vickers machine gun ports?”

“No, not as such”

“Twin Bomb racks?”

“We had a nice picnic lunch in a basket and a buttery Chardonnay to go with it?” he offered.

David stared at him coldly.

“I’ll just shut up now” , Mr. Mender said quietly.

“That would be appreciated” he said in a silky and sinister manner before cheerfully returning to the subject at hand.

“Being that you know nothing of proper zeppelin security procedure (he evilly rubbed his hands together) let me fill you in on a few details. You have my assurance that everything I say is absolutely true. Just trust in me and everything will go just swimmingly.” I snorted and David glared at me.

“For us?” inquired Mr. Splash.

“Well for me certainly. By the by, here are your badges of rank”. David then produced a few ornate badges from his sporran and pinned one to each man’s red tunic just above the heart.

Mr. BEEDEE looked at the insignia and asked “This badge is shaped like a big target. Is this to represent our keen aim?”

David smiled darkly “Something like that”.

He continued “Now because a zeppelin’s security team always wear a red top, this is why they are traditionally called Red Shirts. So when you hear someone say “Red Shirt go over there to that strange green glowing blob and see if it‘s dangerous!” That means you. Understand?”

The three gentlemen nodded.

Mr. Splash asked “is there medical insurance that comes with this position?”

David laughed, “not to my knowledge but we do cover any and all funeral expenses. That will be all for now, Red Shirts dismissed!”

Mr. Splash, Mr. BEEDEE, and Mr. Mender smartly saluted, spun on their heels, and marched off it perfect unison.

David smiled and asked me “was there something in particular you needed?”



I looked hard at him “There is a reporter in my Command Gondola and I want him…”

My thoughts raced back to something David had just mentioned.

"...Wait just a minute! I thought I had said that we weren’t going to need machine guns and bomb racks. I crossed them off the blue prints!” I pointed accusingly at David.

David regarded me coolly. “Indeed you did cross them off the blue prints with your pencil. I however possessed both initiative and an eraser. Cheer up though! What is a zeppelin without bomb racks? It would be like a hawk without talons, a viper without fangs, a scorpion without a telson, a shark without teeth, a ferret without an explosive charge…”

I looked hard at David “You are a very strange person” I stated.

He smiled widely “You have no idea.”

David now pointed accusingly at me.

“You know Jamie I couldn’t help noticing there is a large very securely locked storeroom aft which didn’t show up on the original plans. I took the liberty of taking a peek inside.”

I raised an eyebrow. David shrugged.

“Locks are something that detain other people. Anyway, I was most interested to note the some 500 gallons of Gin, 50 gallons of vermouth, and 2 barrels of cocktail onions you have stored there. We must be the be the first arctic expedition in history to be sponsored by Tanqueray.”

My cheeks flushed a bit at the mention of my now not-so-secret provisions

David asked “Was there anything else?”

“Never mind “, I muttered.

“So we are off to the arctic finally?”

“No, not quite. We have one final stop before.”

“Oh? Might I inquire where we are headed?”

“To British Columbia, Canada. We need appropriately warm kilts for the crew to protect them from the bitter cold we will experience. I also wish to see if I can gleam a little more information about the acryli-beast. There is someone in British Columbia who can provide both. He may be an old, strange and cranky kilt maker, but we need to see him.”

David said “You mean?”

“Yes David... We’re off to see the Wizard, a curmudgeonly wizard who is odd”


To Be Continued…

[starbkjrus]

Panache and the Great Hunt for the Acryli-Beast

snip...

“Yes David... We’re off to see the Wizard, a curmudgeonly wizard who is odd”

...snip
To Be Continued…

Oh my!

[way2fractious]

Weren't the shoes that Dorothy of Kansas wore a bright pink? ...er, red? And look where there those got her with another wizard! Oh, my! indeed.

[Splash_4]

WooHoo indeed.... Wonder what the Wizard has cooked up for the trip?

[Hamish]

This is all very well, Jamie, but, at my age, I cannot remember what passed in the previous chapter every time you give us a new one! No offence but I am afraid I am giving up (well, actually I did several chapters ago) until you reach the conclusion. Then I will read the entire opus at one sitting!!

[emolas]

This is all very well, Jamie, but, at my age, I cannot remember what passed in the previous chapter every time you give us a new one! No offence but I am afraid I am giving up (well, actually I did several chapters ago) until you reach the conclusion. Then I will read the entire opus at one sitting!!

Perhaps he should wave his moderator wand and make a new thread with all of the installments neatly arranged in chronologic order and then lock it from replies. Of course still posting to an unlocked thread to allow comments but this way you wouldn't have to sift through comments to find the chapters.

[McClef]

I just had a thought - isn't a Zeppelin an anachronism in Victorian times?

[Panache]

Gentle Readers,

A concern has been set forth that these small stories that I have written for your amusement contain historical inaccuracies for the Victorian age. I would put it to you that these tales are set in our very own time instead of the glorious reign of Queen Victoria. They are Victorian only in the manner of their presentation and the fact that the more vulgar and unseemly of modern trappings have been stripped away. In my humble opinion this allows for a more genteel and enjoyable story and perhaps presents the world as it should be, rather than what it is. It is my earnest hope that this explains the presence of motor cars, electronic recording apparatus , and my most wondrous zeppelin in my writings.

My sincere apologies to those that have found this story’s installments to appear too infrequently. I shall endeavor to do better by you. But I will submit to you that I would rather the tale unfold slowly but to my satisfaction than rapidly and of a substandard quality. Though slow in it’s progression, rest assured that those willing to preserve with this narrative will be rewarded with what I hope will prove a satisfying conclusion .


Your Humble Servant

P.

[BEEDEE]

It is my earnest hope that this explains the presence of motor cars, electronic recording apparatus , and my most wondrous zeppelin in my writings.

P.

Just as well I packed my hand held GPS, might help us to know where we are!

Brian