Episode 24: Poor Reception
"A Cloak of Invisibility?" asked Iverson. "How does it work? And wherever
did Jenkins find such a thing? Some lost tomb in the wastes of Arabia
"Nothing so exotic," said Everett. "I believe he purchased it at a shop in
"How can... oof!" grunted the lieutenant as he ran into the signalman,
whoíd been standing, quite unseen, in the middle of the corridor. "How did
he do that?"
"Iím not quite sure," said Everett, "but it seems to be a skill they teach
in the Signal Corps."
"Quite so," said Jenkins, "Weíre taught how to attract notice, for this is
essential to our job. In the process, we learn how to accomplish the
reverse. People tend to notice someone who looks different, looks out of
place, or looks at them. If you wear an ordinary suit, act in an ordinary
manner, and avoid meeting anyoneís gaze, you can become quite invisible."
"And this will get you into the telegraph office?" said Iverson dubiously.
"Iíve never known it to fail. Iím more concerned how the Captain and
Lieutenant-Commander MacKiernan will fare without me. We have certain
standards to maintain."
"I trust Davies will remember your instructions," said Everett. "Iverson,
Iíll be counting on you and the men to keep the townsfolk occupied."
"Yes, sir. Good luck at the reception."
The reception had been Everettís idea. As captain of one of His Majestyís
Airships, he was expected to pay a courtesy visit to the Administrator. It
had been easy to turn this into an excuse for a grand affair that would
draw other Territorial officials, along with their servants and staff,
away from the neighborhoods where Jenkins and Pierre were headed. Meanwhile,
Iverson and the enlisted men had organized a dance to distract the ordinary
As he stood with MacKiernan and Davis in the foyer of the Government House,
Everett found himself wondering if the price was worth it. The introductions
were so tedious that it took all of his very considerable training to
endure them. Davies, in his role of aide, looked like a trapped animal
stuffed into a uniform of the Royal Marines. MacKiernan didnít look much
happier. The two men gazed longingly at the bar.
"Buck up, Davies," the Exec whispered, "once this is over, we can have a
"Yes," said the marine. "And then Iíll have another."
"Shh," warned Everett. "Here comes Channel."
The first thing one noticed about the Chief of Police was his suit.
Expensively tailored, it spoke a single word: Power. The second thing one
noticed was his face. Greedy eyes peered between rolls of fat above a smile
that was entirely the opposite of sincere. "Captain Everett," he purred
unconvincingly. "Iím pleased to meet a hero of the War."
"That was some time ago," replied Everett modestly. "And I imagine you
distinguished yourself at the head of the Anzac forces."
"No, I had other commitments. But I admire the courage of those who...
"As do we all," agreed Everett. "I look forward to working with you."
Davies gave a discrete cough as the man moved on. It was clear that no one
had been fooled by this pretence of courtesy.
After everyone had been announced, the guests advanced to the ballroom. The
dances that followed were even worse than the introductions. Everett had
only rudimentary talents as a dancer, but this still put him head and
shoulders above most of the guests. As an airship captain, he had also
acquired some skill at avoiding collisions. This was called upon with some
When the dancing ended, he found himself sitting at a table with someoneís
niece and someone elseís cousin, under the guard of a matron every bit as
massive as some of the blimps heíd piloted in training. The conversation
was the very epitome of monotony, and he found himself glancing about for
some excuse to escape -- an earthquake, perhaps, or tidal wave. But the
land and sea and remained obstinately still.
Jenkins stepped aside to let another clerk pass. His invisibility was, if
anything, too effective, and he had to be alert so that no one ran into
him. Now he stood outside the records room deciding on his next move.
Finding it had not posed any great difficulty, but getting inside was
another matter. He could hardly expect someone to open the door for him,
and if he opened it himself, the occupants would be sure to notice.
At last, by counting arrivals and departures, the signalman managed to pick
a time when the room was unoccupied. Its contents proved disheartening: a
maze of file cabinets and shelves crowded with logbooks, folders, and piles
of receipts. He was gazing at the clutter, wondering where to begin,
when the doorknob rattled behind him. Someone was about to enter and there
was no place to hide.
In the instant before the door swung open, Jenkins stepped next to one of
the filing cabinets and froze. He remained motionless, trying to
think the thoughts that filing cabinets think, while a clerk walked past
humming the tune to a popular song. The man rummaged through a drawer,
extracted a folder, then left without noticing the new
conservatively-dressed addition to the cabinetry.
Interesting, thought Jenkins. There may be a lesson here
about the mind-numbing quality of routine clerical work. A few
minutes later, heíd found what he was looking for and was on his way back to
the ship, wondering how the others had fared.
Everett had heard of animals gnawing off a limb to escape a trap. He had
never believed these tales... until now.
"My sister always admired men in uniform," droned the matron. "I remember a
general who visited us during the War. He was recovering from an injury he
received at some place in Belgium... Au Pairs... Eyepars..."
"Ypres?" suggested Everett, desperate to hurry the conversation along.
"Thank you. Heíd lost both legs, so he spent most of his time sitting in the
arbor. And can you believe the Brentworths commissioned an identical arbor
for their summer garden? I canít believe someone would do something so
At last Davies came to his rescue.. "Sir," said the marine, "youíre needed
at the Air Station. It appears thereís been an outbreak of distemper among
"Pardon me, ladies, I must be going."
"I hope we didnít interrupt anything," said MacKiernan, once they were
safely outside. "The young blonde looked rather attractive."
Everett shook his head. "She was appalling -- hanging onto her auntís every
word. I donít know what I would have done if Davies hadnít dragged me away."
"What did you think of that Captain?" asked Emily.
"He was appalling," said Clarice, "hanging onto Aunt Leviathaís every word.
I donít know I would have done if his aide hadnít dragged him away."
Next week: Big Bands of the Elder Gods...