AllFreeNovel
Share Us
'Gran,' I said, 'it's Lan—'
And then the mallet struck my head. Blackness and oblivion. As usual, just when I got to the good bit.
16
Captain Nemo
* * *
'Wemmick's Stores: To enable Jurisfiction agents to travel easily and undetected within fiction, Wemmick's Stores was built within the lobby of the Great Library. The stores have an almost unlimited inventory as Mr Wemmick is permitted to create whatever he needs using a small ImaginoTransference device licensed by Text Grand Central. To reduce pilfering by Jurisfiction staff, all items checked out must be checked in again whereupon they are promptly reduced to text.'
UA OF W CAT— The Jurisfiction Guide to the Great Library (glossary)
I woke late the following morning. My bed was next to the porthole so I rolled over, doubled up a pillow and gazed out at the sun sparkling upon the surface of the lake. I could hear the gentle slap of the water against the flying boat's hull, and it gave me a sense of ease and inner peace that ten years of SpecOps' finest Stressperts couldn't bully into you.
I got up slowly and felt woozy all of a sudden. The room spun around and I felt hot. After a brief and unpleasant visit to the loo, I felt a bit better, and went downstairs.
I made myself some toast as it helped the nausea, and caught sight of myself in the chrome toaster. I looked dreadful, and I was holding up the toaster and sticking my tongue out, trying to see what it looked like, when the Generics walked in.
'What on earth are you doing?' asked Ibb.
'Nothing,' I replied, hurriedly replacing the toaster. 'Off to college?'
They both nodded. I noticed that they'd not only made their own lunch but actually cleared away after them. A certain sensitivity to others is a good sign in a Generic. It shows personality.
'Do you know where Gran is?' I asked.
'She said she was off to the Medici court for a few days,' replied Obb. 'She left you that note.'
I found the note on the counter and picked it up, studying the one-word message with slight confusion.
'We'll be back at five,' announced Ibb. 'Do you need anything?'
'What? Er – no,' I said, reading Gran's note again. 'See you then.'
I ate a huge breakfast and did some more of the multiple choice test. After a half-hour battling through such questions as: Which book does Sam Wetter the boot boy reside in? and Who said: 'When she appeared it was as though spring had finally arrived after a miserable winter'? I stopped and looked at Gran's note for the tenth time. It was confusing. Written in a small and shaky hand, the note consisted of a single word: REMEMBER!
'Remember what?' I muttered to myself, and went for a walk.
I strolled down to the banks of the lake, taking a path through a grove of birches that grew by the water's edge. I ducked under the low branches and followed my nose towards the odd assortment of vessels that were moored next to the old Sunderland. The first was a converted naval pinnace, her decks covered in plastic and in a constant state of renovation. Beyond this was a Humber lighter, abandoned and sunk at its moorings. As I moved to walk on there was a sudden screech of demonic laughter followed by a peal of thunder and the smell of brimstone borne on a gust of icy wind. I blinked and coughed as thick green smoke momentarily enveloped me; when it had cleared I was no longer alone. Three old hags with hooked chins and mottled complexions danced and cackled in front of me, rubbing their dirty hands and dancing in the most clumsy and uncoordinated fashion. It was the worst piece of overacting I had ever seen.
'Thrice the blinded dog shall bark,' said the first witch, producing a cauldron from the air and placing it on the path in front of me.
'Thrice and once the hedge-pig ironed,' said the second, who conjured up a fire by throwing some leaves beneath the cauldron.
'Passer-by cries, 'Tis time, 'tis time!' screeched the third, tossing something into the cauldron that started to bubble ominously.
'I really don't have time for this,' I said crossly. 'Why don't you go and bother someone else?'
'Fillet of a pickled hake,' continued the second witch, 'In the cauldron broil and bake; Lie of Stig and bark of dog, Woolly hat and bowl of fog, Fadda loch and song by Bing, Wizard's leg and Spitfire's wing. For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble!'
'I'm sorry to interrupt,' I said, 'but I really am very busy – and none of your prophecies have come true, apart from the citizen of Swindon bit and anyone with a telephone directory could find that out. And listen, you knew I was an apprentice so I had to be taking my Jurisfiction finals sooner or later!'
They stopped cackling and looked at one another. The first witch drew a large pocket watch from the folds of her tatty cloak and looked at it carefully.
'Give it ye time, imperfect waiter!' she cried. 'All hail MsNext, beware and heed the thrice-read rule!'
'All hail MsNext, I before E except after C!' cackled the second.
