The Mistake

Duke Magnus and Lady Susanna’s passion lay at the university at Stockholm, where the duke, like Stiletto, had a special library. Unfortunately, their particular library, and home, had been destroyed in the parallel universe of the Earth that had been blown up by The Rabbit. In this universe, there would be another Magnus and Susanna in Stockholm.

Being a scholar of ancient Earth languages and sharing Duke Magnus’s passion for books and libraries, Stiletto was going to take Magnus and Susanna, along with Lady Bane, to visit the library in Alexandria. However, top hats and silk dresses would definitely cause a bit of a stir, so Stiletto, also an expert in ancient cultures, had made a pre-visit to Rome to purchase togas for the gentlemen, and stolas for the ladies. After all, he had a mentor who liked to buy his suits in Rome.

In future days everyone is fitted with inbuilt neural translators, so the myriad lifeforms of the universe can communicate with each other, so it had been a simple affair for Stiletto to fashion his friends with the ability to speak Latin and Egyptian, although with a Roman accent, as they would be posing as tourists, which of course, they were.

It was true that the Girl with the Red Hair had also had her planet blown up, but she had shifted effortlessly back into the Sweden of this universe by seemingly eliminating her parallel self. In fact, being essentially a good person, although she had chosen to serve The Rabbit, she had arranged for her parallel self to have a new life on an Earth colony in the future.

Duke Magnus was sat on a marble bench in the great library in Alexandria reading a scroll of Plato’s Republic, in what was possibly Plato’s own hand. A great scholar of Greek philosophy, he knew the text inside out and this version contained several arguments and explanations of the theory of forms that had never made it to posterity. Sat on the bench beside him, his wife, Lady Susanna, kept on breaking into howls of laughter as she absorbed one of the funnier plays of Aristophanes.

The Rabbit couldn’t give a fig for the achievements of Greek thought, or any other kind of human achievement for that matter. All The Rabbit wanted, was results.

The Girl with the Red Hair, now fully recovered from being shot by Stiletto at the Fitzwilliam, was struggling to keep up with the events of the last few months. Recruited by The Rabbit, she had witnessed the destruction of the Earth, only to return to a carbon copy of her previous existence. The Rabbit was an enigma, but serving him was fun, and it transpired she had a talent for mayhem on a cosmic scale.

Lady Bane, a woman of spontaneity and action, had got bored in the Library, and she and Stiletto were exploring the adjacent streets. They passed easily as Romans, for Egypt was part of the Empire and Alexandria was full of merchants and military, but for all his wisdom, Stiletto had forgotten about slaves. No noble Roman lady would be out and about without personal attendants easing the way.

Stiletto and Sarah had been marked, but marked as what? The beggar with the scarred face knew they were wrong but didn’t know why. Clearly, they were noble Romans, but unlike any he had ever seen.

Stiletto wasn’t worried. He had seen the beggar in the shadows, and the ragamuffin messenger who raced off, and had correctly assessed the situation. Trading his top hat for a toga had been fun, and its folds hid a treasury of concealed weaponry.

Turning to warn Sarah of the threat, he was astonished to see she was gone. Astonishment changed to incredulity as the arrow hit him from behind, and pierced his right shoulder. He staggered a few steps, and then fell to the cobbled street.

The Girl with the Red Hair watched from the shadows. She had seen Lady Bane taken, and Stiletto shot, and watched as men in rags fought with the badly wounded adventurer. Deciding to act, she looped her wire over the head of the first attacker, removing his head with a tug, and drove the point of her blade through the back of the neck of a second. It was all the relief Stiletto required, and he quickly dispatched the other two, blood seeping through his white toga where the arrow shaft stood proud. The adventurer had miscalculated, and where was Sarah?

Copyright by Jhedron Luckspar © 2014 2018
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The Bank Job

Lord Stiletto strode through the lobby of the Union City Bank in his shirt sleeves, bowler hat and goggles, and one of his most garish purple check waistcoats. Unusually, the pipe clenched between his teeth was emitting a rather yellow plume of smoke.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” an anxious young lady bank employee said to him. “You can’t smoke he…” but before she could finish the sentence she was dropping where she stood. Stiletto caught her, breaking her fall, and laid her carefully on the marble floor.

Others were not so lucky, and clerks and security guards alike were hitting the floor left, right, and centre.

Once the coast was clear, into the lobby sauntered Haydrift Eaglebeard, although one could only identify him from his flowing beard and ponytail, as his face was covered, by what looked to Stiletto, a world war one gas mask.

The electronic security of the bank with its cameras, both overt and hidden, and the latest twenty-first century technology, was no match for Stiletto’s future technicians, and had been disabled seconds before he came through the lobby door.

Still the safe complex had some good old-fashioned iron doors with top grade tumbler locks, although these would be no defence against his accomplice with his dimension breaching hand.

Sitting outside a bank in a vintage Bentley with the engine running might be a bit of a giveaway, so Gregory and Sarah were parked in the underground garage. With Stiletto’s nerve agent, this time a mild version, and his neutralisation of the security system, they weren’t expecting any problems with their escape. But somebody hadn’t taken into account the tenacity of The Rabbit.

The Rabbit was sitting in the shadows, whiskers twitching, watching the occupants of the old turbocharged Bentley. With a twitch of his ears he gave the signal for the counter-offensive.

Lord Stiletto and Haydrift Eaglebeard knew exactly which vault contained the package, but when they slipped through reality into the vault, the window in the space time continuum closed behind them with a pop. The vault wasn’t empty though. It contained a grizzly bear.

Had The Rabbit borrowed the grizzly bear from London Zoo, it might have been a little easier to manage, but this one had been taken from the Alaskan wastes, and it was seriously hungry and pissed off. Its roar in the confined space was deafening. Its mistake, however, was standing up on its hind legs to offer its challenge.

With lightning speed, though an almost casual air, Eaglebeard reached through its chest and crushed its pounding heart. Unfortunately, fourteen hundred pounds of dead bear toppled forward, crushing and trapping him against the vault floor.

Sarah’s gun of some sort had been built in the future by Lord Stiletto’s technicians. Having access to the books in his library inspired a vast array of potential effects. One of their favourites was the Medusa ray, which like her fabled glare, turned the living to stone. At the moment though, it was creating explosions, which was useful because it had an approximation factor built in, and even if you missed the target all together, it could still be taken out by the environment, in this case shrapnel from the architecture, and motor vehicles in the underground car park.

Haydrift Eaglebeard came from an ancient and warrior-like race, and he was made of strong stuff. Still he was pinned to the floor, and had concussion, and the benefit of several broken ribs, one of which was causing some internal bleeding. Left to his own devices he would not have been able to extricate himself from under the dead weight of the bear, even with his new and special hand which was trapped beneath him. Fortunately, his accomplice was Lord Stiletto.

Strong as Stiletto was, he couldn’t shift a fourteen hundred pound carcass, but he had one of those iridium blades, said to be able to cut the fabric of the universe, although not in the way of Eaglebeard’s hand, and he was able to joint the bear into manageable lumps. Fifteen minutes later a very broken and bloody Haydrift Eaglebeard sat on the floor, wondering with his friend, how the bloody hell they were going to get out of this one.

Being a serendipitous lot, where the thought of a friend often found that friend walking around the corner, or at the least, calling on the phone, at that moment the door of the vault momentarily hummed, then vanished, and silhouetted on its other side was Sarah, aka Lady Bane, holding a gun of some sort.

Back at the Savoy, clean and spruced up, with Eaglebeard’s ribs healing below the bandages, the four friends, Gregory, Stiletto, Eaglebeard and Sarah, were joined for dinner in Gregory’s private dining room, by Duke Magnus and Lady Susanna. Over dessert Magnus was amusingly recounting how the porters had discovered Henrik unconscious under his newspaper, and unable to awaken him, sent him off to Great Ormond Street Hospital in an ambulance, siren blaring, blue light flashing.

Copyright by Jhedron Luckspar © 2014 2018
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Slime and Motion

Where was Stiletto?

Stockholm, as it happened, so no help from that quarter. Gregory was at the Royal Festival Hall on the south bank of the Thames in London, waiting for Eaglebeard who had been delayed. Why he would want to be stuck in traffic rather than use his hand was baffling.

The Snowdon exhibition hadn’t disappointed. Amazing photographs and better yet, no sign of The Rabbit.

Sunday. Breakfast and Campari weren’t the usual mix, but Gregory had travelled down to Brixton to have breakfast at the new café bar, Parissi. Everybody said Brixton was the new happening place in London, safer now with gentrification, and definitely no trouble.

The girl, sat on the stool with her back to the bar, facing Gregory, didn’t look quite right. Her face was odd, and Gregory couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It was rude to stare. She was pretty with a nice frock, but pretty strange at the same time. Then a lump about the size of a marble appeared in her cheek, and slowly drifted down, under her mouth, and up the other side, disappearing near her left ear. Gregory was both fascinated and seriously alarmed, and forgot that it was rude to stare.

Suddenly her skin peeled back as the girl’s face exploded into a miasma of tentacular activity, like a worms-nest on acid. No features to speak of, just slime and motion.

So, no trouble then.

Like the eye of a hurricane, the rest of the girl was normal, except for the large and weird looking gun that she slowly removed from her tiny handbag.

Spyros, the proprietor, who had been making a customer’s latte behind the counter, calmly leant over and threw the freshly made coffee into the heaving mass of motion. The nightmare creature emitted a blood curdling scream of agony, as the tentacles thrashed blindly, only to be cut short by the razor edge of Gregory’s sword, drawn like fluid poetry from the folds of his stylish Abercrombie overcoat, parting the writhing mass from the attractive body below.

Handing Gregory a napkin to wipe the slime from his antique blade, Spyros placed the cup in the sink, and with a smile, dryly commented, “Goddamn aliens!”

Copyright Jhedron Luckspar © 2014 2018

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The Savoy

“The square root of nothing is fuck all!”

Gregory spun around. He had heard that raucous tone before. Henrik.

The young man stood behind Gregory, a big smile beaming broadly on his friendly face, but Gregory knew Henrik was an agent of The Rabbit.

Pretending bonhomie, he engaged the charming young Swede in conversation, wondering as always, where the devil had Stiletto got to?

Lord Stiletto was sat with his pipe in a comfortable arm chair in the lounge at the Savoy, watching with wry amusement their conversation going on at the bar. He had no concern for his friend, but he was still troubled by the unanswered question, “Who was it that had knifed Gregory at the Fitzwilliam, and removed the package from his waistcoat pocket?” Surely not Henrik!

“And what brings you to London?” Gregory was politely enquiring.

“Oh, just here to catch a show,” the young man said, beaming. “Wicked is still playing, and I’m hoping to catch the Matisse exhibition at Tate Modern before it finishes.”

Gregory had finally caught sight of his friend across the lounge, and steered young Henrik into a rather smart looking armchair next to him.

“How’s the girl?” asked Stiletto evenly of Henrik.

“Well she had a hell of a headache and was out of action for a few days, but she’s around,” replied the debonair dandy.

Stiletto was always surprised, even here at the Savoy, at the curious and sometimes mocking glances their Victorian dress instigated. Still, he leant across to brush some fluff from his own trouser crease, then forward a fraction more to do likewise to young Henrik. The needle on his finger was so fine Henrik didn’t even feel it, but within seconds the Swede was unconscious. With a broadsheet to cover his recumbent form, he looked like an old gent who had dozed off whilst reading the paper. The two friends made their exit.

Waiting outside at the wheel of a vintage Bentley was Haydrift Eaglebeard. No sooner had Gregory and Stiletto settled in the rear seats than Eaglebeard shot the car out into the Strand, horn blaring, as he wove between the early afternoon traffic. Lady Bane as usual was riding shotgun, restored to her normal silk and bustled self, but with a rather strange metallic contraption cradled in her arms that most peoples, wherever they might be in the universe, would recognise as a gun of some sort.

“What’s that?” enquired Gregory.

“It’s a gun of some sort,” Sarah replied with a smile.

Copyright Jhedron Luckspar © 2014 2018
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The Captives

Unknown at the time, two other survivors of the destruction of the planet Earth, had been Duke Magnus and the Lady Susanna. Wise to the machinations of the Rabbit and the Girl with the Red Hair, they had hitched a ride with The Rabbit. A chance remark had betrayed their sympathies to the Friend’s cause. Now, naked and freezing, they hung upside down in one of the cells deep within a forgotten asteroid.

It was only chance that had alerted the Friends to the fate of Magnus and Susanna. In an infinite universe, entanglement creates powerful connections.

Haydrift Eaglebeard passed his palm over the electronic lock of the door. Silently it opened. It was one of many amazing abilities of his new hand he was discovering.

He took a clockwork mouse out of his pocket, and whispering his instructions, sent it off to explore the cell complex.

Lord Stiletto ran his fingers along the cold steel of the blade, from which he took his name, and slipped it back into the sheath on his wrist. As a diversionary tactic, Stiletto was going in through the front door.

Sarah, Lady Bane, was unrecognisable. Gone were the silk skirts and bustles. Gone was her whole appearance. Stiletto’s technicians had completely changed the structure and appearance of her face and now she resembled a cross between a demon and a reptile. The fluorescent yellow slime oozing from the corners of her eyes was a touch Stiletto was particularly pleased with.

Spleenspew, the guard, was mean. He had been serving The Rabbit all his life, for his was an hereditary post. A complete bastard by all accounts, he had served in the Grakkam campaign, clearing out the uranium mines infested with the indigenous rebels, and had “cleared” many more with his hands and spiked knuckles than with his blaster. Spleenspew liked to get up close and personal.

Which was Sarah’s situation at this moment. The local dialect was pretty much like Slavic mutant spat through gravel, and Sarah delivered her lines perfectly, demon eyes boring into Spleenspew’s. She thought she had him, but brutal and mean as he was, he was also efficient. Feeling his welling thought communication, with lightning speed she drove the point of her blade through the mutant’s throat, before the alarm could be given.

Unaware of the drama taking place hundreds of levels below, Lord Stiletto wandered through the main entrance of The Rabbit’s lair.

A frock coat and top hat is not every day wear on an asteroid, and the girl on reception, used to seeing battle-weary troops, and the scum of the universe, sensed trouble, a concern which was confirmed by the sensors that showed Stiletto was carrying more personal armaments than a Zidian space trooper.

Years of training had given Haydrift Eaglebeard lightning reflexes. Unarmed as he was, except for his bone blade which was able to escape detection by the sensors, he felt the incoming threat and as he spun, palmed the attacking energy with his new right hand. The wall to his side exploded with molten metal, and all elements of surprise were lost.

Sarah, Lady Bane, held the mutant eye up to the scanner and the door silently dematerialized to reveal the holding cell. Shivering with the intense cold, she glided across the freezing cell and released the captives from their bonds. Magnus and Susanna fell with sickening thuds to the frozen floor and Sarah realised she needed help.

Lord Stiletto had only gone about ten steps before alarms sounded and blast doors slammed down all around him. With no break in his stride or composure, he pulled a metallic capsule from his pocket and lobbed it into the  busy atrium, full of soldiers, guards and mercenaries. The nerve toxin, to which he had been made immune, rendered a fatal paralysis on all within touch of its rapidly expanding vapour.

Eaglebeard knelt beside Sarah, and passed his right hand briefly across the foreheads of the two captives, who immediately began to show an improvement in their colour.

Extending his hand like a blade, he opened a fold in the very fabric of the universe, and within the blink of an eye, they were gone.

Copyright Jhedron Luckspar © 2014 2018
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Friends

The advantage of having friends in the future became clear to Haydrift Eaglebeard as he flexed the fingers of his right hand.

He was sat in the library of Lord Stiletto, book collector and cosmic adventurer, and enjoying a very fine bottle of port. The rumour was that Stiletto had been given several cases of port by a grateful Napoleon Bonaparte after his help at the battle of Smolensk.

Sat across the exquisitely crafted table were his two good friends, Lord Stiletto and Gregory Cobblestone, now recovered after the installation of an artificial kidney, to replace the one destroyed in Cambridge.

Stiletto was laughing as he good-naturedly recalled the surprised look on Eaglebeard’s face as his hand came off and dropped to the polished wooden floor. The cut had been so fine and rapid that initially there had been no pain. That had come later.

“It’s the same hand,” Stiletto continued through mouthfuls of olives, “but we have modified it slightly. I think you will find it’s a good trade.”

Eaglebeard went back to flexing his restored fingers, which felt, and seemed to his amazed eyes, to be completely unchanged.

The rustle of silken skirts alerted the friends to the entrance of Lady Bane. Gregory nodded his thanks over the rim of his cut glass. It was her quick action and skill that had kept him alive whilst in twenty-first century Cambridge. The medical science of the future may be incredible, but they hadn’t yet mastered the fabled art of reversing Death itself.

“Ah,” thought the Boy from another dimension.

“What was that?” said Stiletto, always sensitive to the ambiguous.

“Just an old friend,” smiled Gregory, and passing a glass of port to Sarah, lifted his glass for the toast, “Friends.”

 
Copyright Jhedron Luckspar © 2014 2018
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Deliverance

Where was Stiletto?

As it was home to England’s other famous university, it seemed only logical after time spent in Oxford, that Gregory Cobblestone should find himself in Cambridge, ostensibly to attend a performance of Othello at the Shakespeare Festival. However, the real reason was to deliver the package without detection by The Rabbit.

Haydrift Eaglebeard was a strange fellow, but that in itself was his best recommendation. Strange carried connotations of weird, and weird was where the two friends were going.

What is it with the museum thing?  Gregory pondered. Collection had been at the Ashmolean, whilst delivery was at the Fitzwilliam, a wonderful museum with a fine collection of Impressionist paintings and statues. Gregory was quite surprised to see so many fine works outside of Paris or Amsterdam.

He was particularly taken with the beautiful bronze statue, A Woman Combing Her Hair, which apparently was on loan from the Tate. It was a pity they weren’t international art thieves instead of universal conspirators, because Gregory had fallen in love with it and could imagine this beautiful statue having pride of place in his apartment on Sunshine, Lord Stiletto’s space station, near the Horse Head Nebula.

There was no sign of Stiletto, but was that Lady Bane descending the magnificent stairway? Stiletto was convinced she was on the side of the angels, but Gregory thought of that magnificent silver ring, and wasn’t so sure.

Eaglebeard, who to the casual eye, had been examining some beautiful marquetry on a splendid old cabinet, was deep in conversation with the Girl with the Red Hair. Was he simply flirting, or delving for information, or maybe, the thought came, he didn’t actually know who she was. If the Girl with the Red Hair was here, then surely, they must be in the presence of The Rabbit!

Quickly Gregory put his hand to his waistcoat pocket, but it was still there, the wax sealed package.

The timing had to be very precise. The portal would only be open for seconds.

Gregory sighed with calm satisfaction, then buckled in unbelievable agony as the jagged blade was placed, rather than stabbed, into the left of his two kidneys.

Something was wrong! Glancing over the space of the hall, Haydrift Eaglebeard saw his friend slowly collapse, a pool of crimson blood spreading around him on the polished mahogany floor of the splendid antiquarian museum.

Before he could act, the Girl with the Red Hair looped a fine wire, so thin and strong it couldn’t have been made on this planet, over Eaglebeard’s right hand, and with a deft tug, removed it at the wrist.

Thank goodness for Stiletto. Biding his time in the shadows, he stepped from behind a curtain and shot the Girl with the Red Hair. Unfortunately, the gun was set to stun, so she would live. Reaching down, he calmly picked up the hand from the floor, and slipping it into his pocket, guided his friend towards the ever-spreading pool of blood around the prostrate form of Gregory. Lifting Gregory onto his shoulder, he heard the strangled whisper, “the package,” but it was too late. A red trail of rabbit prints led away across the polished floor and a quick check of the waistcoat pocket showed that the package was truly gone.

Copyright by Jhedron Luckspar © 2014 2018
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The Package

Ironically, as it was epicenter of the source of the explosion that destroyed the Earth, the few who did survive had been located at Gavle, a small town on the eastern coast of Sweden.

“Thank God,” said Gregory, “for parallel universes.”

“You jest,” commented Lord Stiletto, puffing on his new pipe. He didn’t have tobacco in his pipe, which he pronounced peep, after a Sean Connery movie, but he liked to puff away at it as if it did. A skill he had learned from Eagle Cloud, an Apache chief who had taught him how to both track a mountain lion across barren mountain scree, and negotiate the spirit world.

“Deadly serious, old chap.”

“No, about God!”

“Don’t start that again.” And the matter, for the moment, was closed.

The two friends were sat on the sixth floor outside terrace of the café at the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford. Lord Stiletto and Gregory had travelled forward in time to his library where they had enjoyed a well-deserved breakfast of scrambled eggs and oysters, and then returned refreshed to a parallel existence of the Earth, that conveniently, hadn’t been blown up by The Rabbit. There was a package to be collected, and the message had indicated that it was to be found in the new Tutankhamun exhibition.

“But are you sure it was The Rabbit?” enquired Stiletto over his Earl Grey.

He flashed a quick hand signal to his friend, and as casually as possible, Gregory raised his gaze to the far corner, where the Girl with the Red Hair was openly sitting at a table, apparently absorbed in today’s edition of The Times. If the Girl was here, then surely they must also be in the presence of The Rabbit.

“Split up,” said Stiletto, leaving a generous tip on the table and walking immediately to the exit where he headed down the stairs to the second floor, and became very interested in the tea bowls and swords in the Japanese exhibition.

Meantime, Gregory finished his tea and cake, and also headed down the stairs, but went to the Tutankhamun exhibition on the third floor.

He was in one way, rather disappointed by the exhibition. He had hoped there would be some of the exhibits from the Cairo museum, but apart from a copy of the golden death mask, most of the exhibition related to Howard Carter and his team.

Walking straight up to one of the few genuine Egyptian artefacts, a beautiful life size basalt statue, he tapped a fast rhythm on the left nipple of the ancient stone carving.

Where there had been smooth stone, an oblong section of the chest, about five centimetres wide, seemed to dissolve and quickly Gregory removed the small wax sealed package within.

Copyright Jhedron Luckspar © 2014 2018

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The Rabbit

All was quiet on the morning of the ball at the Steampunk Festival. Resplendent in their top hats, bowlers with goggles, bustled dresses and robot arms, the festival goers crowded the venue. Lord Stiletto stalked the halls of the Railway Museum looking for The Rabbit.

It was The Rabbit, whiskers twitching, who watched Stiletto from the shadows. He knew the man with the fabled book collection and the new robotic steam arm meant trouble.

The Girl with the Red Hair was speaking to author and adventurer, Gregory Cobblestone, sizing up the situation. To the world of Gavle, in 21st century Sweden, she was a maker and seller of unique Steampunk artefacts, but really, she was working for The Rabbit.

Surrounded by the huge steam trains like behemoths, waiting for the events to take place, Gregory sighed. Where was Stiletto?

Lord Stiletto was working his way around the halls, looking for books for his collection, but really keeping all his senses alert for The Rabbit.

The Rabbit was a multi-dimensional being of pure evil. It amused itself to take the form of a regular sized white rabbit, so beloved of young Earth children. Still, its manic pink eyes were said to drag you to insanity if you were to become locked into their gaze. It was looking for recruits for its intergalactic organisation. In each world it visited it found suitable adherents, and on Earth it was the world of Steampunk that threw up the best agents.

As well as looking for recruits, The Rabbit had other problems. It needed a source of plutonium for his ship’s batteries and it knew that Sweden had hidden stores secreted in underground bunkers in the Gavle region. Far enough away from Stockholm, in case of leaks, but well protected by hundreds of metres of rock and lead shielding.

Unbeknownst to all except the Girl with the Red Hair, there was a secret entrance to the plutonium store hidden somewhere within the Railway Museum.

A young man, Henrik, dapperly dressed in a fine burgundy woolen frock coat, and silk top hat, was engaging Gregory in a long conversation, obviously trying to divert him from the machinations of The Rabbit. He asked if Gregory would read from his new book, but then grabbed the text from the surprised author, and began to read it out loud himself, modulating his powerful voice to scramble the auditory neural signals of anybody within a ten metre radius.

Returning through the halls, Lord Stiletto felt a sudden warm, wet sensation at the back of his neck, that filled him with horror. Someone had slipped a squid into the gap between his collar and his neck. Stiletto felt the bite of hundreds of sharp suckers as they cut into his skin, crushing and choking him as he gasped for air.

The concealed blade in the rim of his pale grey top hat was in his sturdy grip as he sliced calmly through the grasping suckered arms, feeling cool copper-based blood mixing with his warm iron blood as it soaked into his spotless white shirt.

Stiletto returned to his suite. Showered and re-suited, with a carefully arranged cravat to cover his bruised throat, he was back down in good time for the evening’s banquet.

Gregory and Stiletto were seated with Sarah, also known as Lady Bane, and Duke Magnus and Lady Susanna of Sweden. On Lady Bane’s finger was a large silver ring in the form of a rabbit. The silver beast curled around her finger, its ears and feet standing proud. The significance was not lost on the two observant adventurers.

Next day, in the quiet of the morning, Lord Stiletto was up to his mind reading tricks. He had caught the thoughts of the Girl with the Red Hair in an unguarded moment, and discovered the entrance to the plutonium cache.

Unknown to Stiletto, The Rabbit, up to his own mind reading tricks, had caught Lord Stiletto in an unguarded moment and discovered the entrance to the plutonium.

### Star Alert, Inter Galactic News Flash. Star Date 346910-*3 ###

The promising planet, known to its inhabitants as Earth, blew up under mysterious circumstances. Breaking news suggests that terrorists initiated a chain reaction from a government plutonium storage facility which initiated a reaction that spread to the core of the planet.

Message ends……

Copyright ©2014 2018 Jhedron Luckspar

For a FREE eBook of Revenge Of The Hrym visit my Book Page
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