It has been said that time heals all wounds, but Lord Explodington’s wounds had opened up once more and would not, for some time, be stanched. Outside in the meadow, he and Isabel walked and argued, one occasionally turning and walking away in exasperation, only to come back with more fervent remonstrances than ever.
Russ had disappeared somewhere to brood.
Eric sat alone in the cafe, staring at the bottom of his hot cocoa, feeling depressingly ordinary in the mix. Just a few days ago he had felt like quite the daring crusader, plying his trade in the very heart of danger where the merest hint of his identity would mean death, gathering up the valuable evidence he needed to help stop the most horrific of atrocities. And now after all he had witnessed, he felt small, human, and ordinary.
He slammed his fist on the table. This was no time to dwell. There was great evil afoot, and an urgent call for action. Someone had to destroy the prototype, and someone had to bring the plans to Washington. He strode outside with a purpose and interrupted Explodington in mid-snide-remark.
“That’s enough of that,” said Eric. “If one of you could find Russ, we have a plan to stop.”
Continue reading Title To Be Determined: Chapter 8
“Indeed,” said Explodington, turning his attention back towards the bomb. Before he could begin work on it, however, a tank burst through the right wall, scattering debris everywhere. Children screamed and dashed away in all directions. Explodington raised a weapon-loaded arm toward the massive vehicle, which in turn aimed its gun directly at his head.
“They’re learning,” he said.
Continue reading Title To Be Determined: Chapter 7
“I returned to Antarctica on board the next research vessel, and since then have heard nothing more of Robert Frost or his beautiful daughter Isabel,” said Russ.
“That is the stupidest story I have ever heard,” said Eric.
“How so?” said Russ.
“It was like unearthing the canon of early twentieth-century American literature and the remains of common sense, and alternatingly pissing on each of them.”
“There may have been one or two small inaccuracies…” said Russ.
“Robert Frost,” said Eric, “is not a evil immortal ice wizard with a sinister master plan and a collection of cryogenically frozen historical figures. He is a respected American poet.”
“If you believe the cover story,” said Russ, rolling his eyes.
Continue reading Title To Be Determined: Chapter 6
“Dinner was impressive, but I had been invited to sumptuous meals by plenty of wealthy and powerful archnemeses in my time and I was fairly used to the whole rigamarole. We sparred verbally with hints and veiled probes for information and double entendres for a while in between enjoying the rare and endangered animals he had arranged to be served. Isabel was quiet the whole time and spoke little. Only the three of us sat at the table, with only penguin waiters passing in and out regularly to bring food and clear plates.
“‘So, out with it,’ I said finally. ‘What do you want from me?’
“‘You already realize I cannot allow you to leave,’ said Frost. ‘Instead, I would like you to remain here, and marry my daughter Isabel.’
“I blinked and my hand fluttered to my chest. ‘Why, Robert Frost. This is all so sudden. I… I don’t know what to say.’
Continue reading Title To Be Determined: Chapter 5
“Frost smiled. ‘You’re familiar with my work, I see.’
“‘I’ve heard of you,’ I said. ‘I have heard your name whispered in the shadows and spoken of in trembling voices in relation to one or two matters which called for my involvement. I dismissed those as rumors from overly active imaginations, though.’
Continue reading Title To Be Determined: Chapter 4