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Made in jp
[MOD]
Anti-piracy Officer






Somewhere in south-central England.

The Case of the Vanishing Valentines

Chapter 1 -- Cocktail Crisis


“No Stinger?”

My jaw flapped. It was shocking news, you’ll agree. The fashionably discreet bar called the Nanashi has been a favourite watering hole of all the most urbane members practically forever. For a good reason; it was impossible that they could run out of crucial cocktail ingredients. Yet somehow they had.

I managed to gather my detective faculties to inquire, “Why no Stinger, Tony?”

“Word on the channels is Lord Yuzu bought up The Server’s entire supply of white creme de menthe for some party,” Tony grunted, “Y’know, at his big house all out there in the Mellow West. C’n make yer a Green Hornet if you like, Mz Olympe?”

“A Green Hornet…?” I mused, “No, it would never do.” My earlobes were studded with elegant, white gold crescent moons filled with diamonds. For a moment I wondered if I should go out quickly to a jeweller for some emerald earrings. I was thirsty, though. “No, give me something clear, or pearlescent at least. Surprise me, Tony dear,” I exhorted him.

“White Rabbit coming up!” The expert barboi swiftly combined 80ml of Gin, 50ml of amaretto, 50ml of double cream, 1 tsp of lemon curd and ¼ tsp of vanilla paste in a shaker with much ice, shook it sensuously in the Tokyo Roll style, and strained the sparkling results into two chilled coupes.

“Oooh, Tony!” I exclaimed, “It’s everything I love in the world. And you’ve made me two of them!!”

“Akshly your partner came in a coupla minutes ago so I did one for her too.”

I turned at the sound of a harrumphing cough. Ms Moon Potato, the redoubtable detective, gambler, and tax accountant, stood before me wearing a sober grey skirt suit, a black beret and a bland smile.

“MOON!” I embraced her eagerly. “Try a White Rabbit -- they are so good.”

Ms Moon Potato took a sip and nodded thanks. She lofted an eyebrow, inclined her head in the direction of a discreet booth, somewhat portentously, I thought.

I smoothed my skirt as I slid myself onto the banquette. In my experience, when Ms Moon Potato summons me to a quiet corner, I’m going to be seriously blamed for some misadministration of expenses. It’s easier not to have to face her directly over a hard tabletop.

I sipped my cocktail to brace myself for a possibly unpleasant interview.

“Pia,” Moon began…

“If it’s about that invoice from Creed I can explain everything. The different scents are all necessary for undercover roles!”

“It’s not about perfumes, Pia. There’s a new case just came in. Something from Mistress Kou herself.”

“Mistress Kou. What’s it concerning?”

“Someone has stolen all of the Valentine’s cards in The Server.”

“No, that’s wrong. I sent seven myself, though to be fair, two of them were what you might call shots in the dark. Speculative investments, if you will.”

Moon rolled her eyes.

“The cards which have been stolen are all the ones actually already in the post. You can still go to a shop and buy cards but there won’t be any delivered tomorrow because it’s too late.”

“Wow! That’s a facer! I was hoping for at least five. Now I won’t be able to tell which of my boifrens will need to be punished for slacking.”

“For Goddess’s sake, Pia, try to focus! It’s not just about you. No-one at all’s going to get any cards and everyone will be upset and miserable. I’m already feeling a bit down myself.”

“Hmm.” I took a deep sip of my White Rabbit. “You’re right as usual, Moon. But who would do such a thing?”

“What are the core principles of detective work? Means, motive and opportunity.”

“And contradictions in the evidence, Moon. I take your point though. Perhaps it was the Post Office themselves, wanting to sell more stamps.”

“Seems unlikely, but we’ve got to start somewhere, so let’s start there. At the scene of the crime, the main sorting office.”

* * * * *

To be continued...

I'm writing a load of fiction. My latest story starts here... This is the index of all the stories...

We're not very big on official rules. Rules lead to people looking for loopholes. What's here is about it. 
   
Made in jp
[MOD]
Anti-piracy Officer






Somewhere in south-central England.

Chapter 2 -- Kanban Crash


Moon paid my bill and filed the receipt in her notebook. We effected a rapid egress from the Nanashi and entry into a Yellow Cab.

Taxis are so convenient! In scant minutes we whizzed along the city’s broad avenues and into Meme Central, the channel where most of The Server’s communications organisations are found.

As the cab rolled past Mod News, Events & Gacha, and various other media headquarters, I ruminated that detectives and journalists plie much the same trade. We both seek to discover the truth, though in my experience journalists are prone to making it public when perhaps discretion might be the better course. But I digress.

We hopped from the taxi before the imposing frontage of the Central Post Office. In my eyes the gothic revival is complicit in numerous crimes against architectural good taste, and the CPO is a prime example of the guilty genre. Its lowering bulk, garnished with sharp arches, lancet windows, spiky finials, and other such pointless extravagances, seemed to foretell a… a… …I’m sorry for the tangent; it’s tedious to carry on like this.

A harried looking reception bot directed us to the superintendent’s office. The nameplate on the door read Zer Pure White Love Princess, and below that a sign -- “Always Open” -- but it was closed.

“Ever wanted to meet a Princess, Pia?” Moon muttered, and smiled sideways at me. She raised her hand to rap but the door suddenly was flung open, revealing a tall, middle-aged white member clad in what I assumed to be a ceremonial version of the Royal Mail uniform; ¼ zip hoody in scarlet polyester under a yellow high-viz waistcoat, camel colour cargo shorts which fell to below the knee, and chonky brown work boots with diamante decoru. Jimmy Choos, obviously.

What is the point of wearing such trouserings? It’s a hassle for bois to get a licence and then they cover up even their knees. I mean you don’t have to go around in Speedos, but it’s nice for a girl to get a glimpse of your thighs.

“You’re the detectives?” The superintendent asked in an alto voice. We nodded, and Moon showed her commission from Mistress Kou.

“Good. Come in and I’ll give you the background.”

We made introductions, then Zer Princess directed our attention to a whiteboard. It was marked up as a Kanban and liberally plastered with various colours of square Post-it notes which formed a mind jumbling pattern. But I could see a logjam of notes in one of the swimlanes.

“Is that the missing Valentines?” I asked.

“Well spotted, Mz Reese. At least that’s where they were last located but if I update the board now…” Pure White Love dramatically lifted many notes off, dumping them on their desk, which left an ominous white hole signifying… what? I didn’t understand anything.

“You mean they’ve disappeared?” I gasped, boggled at the idea of sending invisible Valentine cards. In Britain we don’t sign them, so you have to guess the sender, but at least you can see you got one. Moon looked very sideways at me.

“That’s why we’re here, you idiot!” she hissed quietly.

“Vanished, stolen, disapparated, whatever,” replied Pure White Love in a gravelly voice, “They aren’t where they should be. I need you to find out how it happened, and more importantly, you have to get them back so they can be delivered tomorrow.”

“How many were you hoping for, Zer Princess?” I asked.

“I never have any hope for Valentines. I have been disappointed too often,” they said sadly, and hung their head for a moment. I exchanged a glance with Moon. Then Zer Princess rallied themself and pointed to the opposite wall where a kind of flow chart had been chalked up on a blackboard.

“This shows the path the Valentine cards take through the Royal Mail system,” Pure White Love said in a firm voice. “We’ll follow it until we get to the source of the trouble.”

* * * * *

To be continued...

I'm writing a load of fiction. My latest story starts here... This is the index of all the stories...

We're not very big on official rules. Rules lead to people looking for loopholes. What's here is about it. 
   
Made in jp
[MOD]
Anti-piracy Officer






Somewhere in south-central England.

Chapter 3 -- My Bloody Valentine


The blackboard was covered with carefully inscribed chalk lines and labels in different colours. I thought that flow charts were something to do with computer programming, a topic I know nothing about, and I don’t know anything about how mail is delivered either, so I paid close attention to the explanation Zer Princess now began to give.

“Items enter the system at local post offices or post boxes. They are collected twice a day and brought here, to the Central Post Office, for sorting and machine addressing. This is done mostly by bots, of course. We give special attention to seasonal mail such as Valentine’s cards, which must be delivered on a specific day. These are recognised by their special stamps...”

*Which cost more than ordinary stamps,* I thought. *Maybe there’s something in my theory after all.*

“...The franked mail is packetized and loaded into our train for transport to…”

“You’ve got a train? An actual train!?” I broke in rather rudely. “Sorry Pure White. May I call you that? Rather forward of me, I know...” I smiled winsomely, to deflect any anger at my solecism.

“Yes, if you like, Mz Reese, of course you may, since we are working together. No standing on ceremony.”

“Please, call me Olympe.”

Moon coughed theatrically and said, “You were going to tell us about the train?” One of her eyebrows was arched and the other lowered, an expression I had learnt to fear. I sat as quiet and still as the proverbial mouse hiding from a family of hungry cats.

“Ahem. Yes.” Pure White turned again to the diagram, picking out the important features with a laser pointer. “The train runs under Server City directly to our drone port at Off Topic, outside the city limits.”

I had never been to Off Topic. It didn't sound like the kind of place where a girl would need lots of expensive shoes. Now it seemed as though I was going to have to visit for professional reasons. I uncrossed and recrossed my legs.

“What’s a drone port?” I asked, to cover up my hesitancy, and batted my eyes subtly. Pure White did a minor double take before they went on with their explanation.

“Basically like a small airport for electric drones. Where they are parked and serviced in between operations, batteries recharged and so on. The SPS co-ordinates of the destination addresses are optimised here and uploaded into the drones’ nav systems while the train is en route, so they’re ready to go as soon as the post is transferred off the train. Then the drones fly away to deliver the mail.” It was beginning to sound like boisplaining. “Only obviously it hasn’t happened today.”

“So what do you want us to do, Zer Princess?” Moon asked in a matter of fact voice. “Are there any staff you want interrogated, that kind of thing? I mean, we’re detectives, not drone pilots.”

“No. I want you to post a card -- it’s got to be a Valentine -- follow it to Off Topic and see where it goes next. Because that’s where the missing mail must be.”

“Hmm,” Moon sub-vocalised, and turned to me. “Pia, if I know you, you’ve got a spare Valentine card in your purse. In case of emergency. Cough it up!” She held out a demanding hand.

“No! It’s mine!” I protested. “I paid for it, and the special stamp too. I insist on writing it myself.”

“Okay so, but who will you send it to?”

“That’s my secret. It won’t be a proper test of the system if I tell you and the superintendent now.”

“That’s right,” said Pure White, “If I know who the card is for, it might bias the experiment somehow.”

I nodded and turned my back to them to take out my reserve Valentine -- a simple yet elegant heart of red sparkles on white card, blank inside for your own message -- and the precious stamp, and a pen. And my lipstick. And a travel atomiser. I wrote out the message:

Are You Ready To Be Loved?

I kissed the card with painted lips in lieu of a signature, making sure to create a sensuous print.

“Why are you taking so long, Pia?” Moon exclaimed impatiently. “We’re on a timer here, you know.”

“There’s an art to Valentines,” I retorted, “So don’t rush me.” I gave the card a quick spritz of scent. The heady aroma of Creed Sublime Vanille filled the office. Moon sneezed. I wrote out the address neatly, sealed the envelope and stamped it. I stood up, ready for the mission.

“Where should I hand this in, Pure Love?”

“You can post it on the way down to the train station.”

Moon stood too. “Let’s go.”

* * * * *

To be continued...

I'm writing a load of fiction. My latest story starts here... This is the index of all the stories...

We're not very big on official rules. Rules lead to people looking for loopholes. What's here is about it. 
   
Made in jp
[MOD]
Anti-piracy Officer






Somewhere in south-central England.

Chapter 4 -- Railroaded

The superintendent themself guided us through the building, first to a post box, then to a changing room where they gave us clothing suitable for the mission. At least, so they thought.

“It’s best you put on these coveralls to ride the train.” The proffered garments were a baggy kind of dungarees and a waterproof jacket, both in neon shades of reflective silver, yellow and orange. You know the look from slow crawling past roadworks. “It’s not really designed for passengers.”

“Oh really, must I?” I complained, and Pure Love looked slightly wounded.

“I strongly advise it, Mz Olympe,” they insisted. I detected a slight froideur in their tone of voice.

“Stop complaining, Pia. We’re on an important mission!” Moon said imperatively.

“Well, how about shoes?” I turned a pretty ankle to show off my strappy sandals, whose red soles did not match at all well with the fluorescent safety gear.

“They’re next, and helmets,” Pure Love confirmed.

“Oh okay, then,” I sighed, accepting my fate. “Please would you unzip me?” I turned my back to Pure Love.

Freed from my slinky cocktail dress, I left Pure Love to deal with it while I bundled and strapped the chonky work suit over my undergarments. I liberated a nylon duffel bag to keep my handbag safe. The shoes were oversize work boots, suitable for the hunky bois whose muscles are necessary to propel the mail from one place to another in some parts of the otherwise automatic system. I put on my emergency yoga socks to make them fit better.

Meanwhile, Moon was making her own sad compromises with the tailoring.

Finally, Pure White handed us two white plastic helmets like people wear on construction sites and so on. Suited, booted and helmeted, the pair of us began to feel like warriors ready for battle to save the Valentine love festival from destruction. At least I did. I suspect Moon was focussing on the hefty fees she would charge Mistress Kou.

The train was… I don’t know if you’ve ever been to Syon Park in west London. It’s the ancestral London home of some rich noble family, with extensive gardens full of the world’s third largest domed glasshouse and that sort of thing -- you can take a picnic to eat on the lawn or there’s a decent little cafe -- but the point I want to get to is that they have a miniature railway, something which looks like a real steam train but shrunk, with a firebox about the size of a wood-burning stove. The driver sits astride like they are riding a motorbike. The carriages are just large enough for two people to sit facing one another. It’s actually rather fun in good weather.

The PO train was similar but it worked by electric and there weren’t carriages with seats. The engine and carriages were painted Royal Mail scarlet. Pure White directed Moon and me to lie down in two of what were basically empty, flatbed cargo cars. On the bare floor, can you believe? At least it was fairly clean because it normally only carried packetised mail.

“Wait! Where’s my Valentine?” I protested.

“Yes. That is essential.” The superintendent made a call and within seconds a bot delivered the fragrant missive. Pure White carefully avoided seeing the address as the bot loaded the single envelope into the cargo bay behind me.

“There, you’re all set. Good luck!” They waved, and the train lurched into motion.

“Wait, aren’t you coming too?” I wanted urgently to ask, but the acceleration was too rapid. Moon and I were swept away from the loading dock before I could get the words out. I lay down quickly as the train shot into a tunnel.

I don’t know what Freud would have made of the scene, the bright red train with its cargo of love pounding along a warm dark channel but it reminded me somewhat of this old film my grandfather liked to make me watch on holidays, in which the heroes escape an evil temple on an underground railway like a rickety wooden roller-coaster. Iowa Jones and the Golden Skulls or something.

I’ve always hated roller-coasters.

* * * * *

To be continued...

I'm writing a load of fiction. My latest story starts here... This is the index of all the stories...

We're not very big on official rules. Rules lead to people looking for loopholes. What's here is about it. 
   
Made in jp
[MOD]
Anti-piracy Officer






Somewhere in south-central England.

Chapter 5 -- Shanghaied

If I’m honest the ride was far less dramatic than that. We rumbled along pretty smoothly, not as well as the Japanese Shinkansen and there were no refreshments, of course, but I was actually about ready to doze off when we began to slow down. In another minute the little train came to a moderately clanky halt at a loading bay, where more bots were waiting. A platform sign declared the station to be Royal Mail Depot. Which had been the sign at the start of the journey too, but this was clearly a different place. As Pure Love had said, the system wasn’t designed for normal passengers.

The bots immediately unloaded my Valentine card, Moon and me, and carried us off for some obscure postal purpose. Sorting, perhaps.

Moon was outraged, of course. She complained, wriggled, and slapped at the beefy bot bearing her, to no avail. It seemed we were parcel post, to be transferred quickly and carefully on to the next stage of our journey.

For my part, I waited quiescently to see what would happen.

Looking back on my detective career, it’s quite surprising the number of times someone has had to pick me up and carry me in the course of my duties. Once it was up a rescue wire to a helicopter. Another time, down a long fire ladder from a burning building. Then the occasions I was brought piggy-back through the mind-bending expanse of The Grounds. Those were all frightening situations. I could not have endured the stress without someone’s warm arms around me. Perhaps it reminds you of childhood, when your mother -- the ultimate hero -- cuddles you and soothes your fears away. So I didn’t really mind the bot.

“Moon, don’t fight it!” I called to her, “Just relax and enjoy the ride.”

The PO bots weren’t rough with us. Workboilike, they quickly and efficiently franked us with 3d barcodes and transferred us into the hold of a large cargo drone. I say the hold, but actually it was basically a kind of net sack in a frame, like you would see filled with dirty linen at industrial laundries. Not that I’ve ever been in an industrial laundry but I watch the right kind of movies. I began to experience a frisson of fear. I hadn’t thought through the whole mission profile.

“Moon!” I asked urgently, “Are we going to be flown somewhere?”

“We’re in a drone which delivers mail by air. What do you think, Pia?” she retorted, still annoyed from being made a parcel. Then, “Oh, your irrational fear of heights! Hold close to me and shut your eyes,” she said in a kinder tone of voice. “It’ll be over quickly. I’ll talk to you and distract you.”

The drone’s motors spun up and the ground wobbled below us. Take off! I closed my eyes, held my breath, and reached for Moon.

Moon gathered me in her arms as well as she could, given the bulky uniforms we both wore. Our helmets bumped together and I could feel the wind of her words on my cheek.

“Pia?”

“Yes, Moon?”

“The scent you’re wearing, is it the same one you put on your Valentine?”

“Yes, why?”

“Did you put it there for a clue, like a kind of tracer? Something that could evade electronic scanners. Very clever! I wish I had thought of it.”

“Well…” I paused. I wished I had thought of it myself. If I had, I would be much cleverer than I am. “I’ve always said that smell is an important part of detecting but the truth is, Moon… I wore it tonight as an experiment. It’s Creed Sublime Vanille, which blends bourbon vanilla and tonka bean over a deep sensual base of tonkin musk, to release the wearer’s seductive powers.”

“What!?”

“I mean, the Nanashi is a high class pick-up joint, really. I wanted to see if this scent would help me get lucky.”

“On Valentine’s Eve! What about your boifrens? And your girlfren.”

“It cost so much I wanted to be sure it would work. I wouldn’t have done anything! Just, um, enjoyed the chase and slipped away like a slithy fox at the end.”

“Hm.” Moon sounded somewhat disapproving. I held my peace. Perhaps I should have been more circumspect about my love ambitions. Especially when I try to put essential accessories on expenses. But damn it, she shouldn’t have asked. Everyone knows that what happens in NSFW stays in NSFW!

The drone whirred on through the dark, its multiple rotors buzzing like a swarm of bumblebees. I had no idea where we might be, how high we were, but I felt no stirring of my horrid acrophobia. Moon’s breath tickled my cheek. The scent of her shampoo was light and teasing in my nostrils.

“Moon?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for making me feel safe,” I said in a small voice.

Her arms tightened around me for a moment, and relaxed.

“We’re not safe yet, Pia. But we’ll be fine as long as we stick together.”

* * * * *
To be continued...

I'm writing a load of fiction. My latest story starts here... This is the index of all the stories...

We're not very big on official rules. Rules lead to people looking for loopholes. What's here is about it. 
   
Made in jp
[MOD]
Anti-piracy Officer






Somewhere in south-central England.

Chapter Six -- Living on an Island


It was the first time I’d ever travelled by drone, and it wasn’t so bad. No-one kicked me in the head like happened once at a zero-gee dance party on a spaceship. And we walked away from the landing. That’s what all experienced pilots say is important and who am I to disagree?

The drone touched down and switched itself off. Moon and I let go of each other and we looked around. Unsurprisingly, it was rather creepily dark, with the gibbous moons providing only low key illumination of the scene. We undid the cargo net and bailed out with my precious Valentine. We shook our phones for light. It was quickly obvious we had landed in some wild area, a clearing bounded by scrub and small trees. The ground, though flat, was covered with long rough grass. There were several other drones landed nearby, all with cargo nets full of packetised cards.

“We found the vanished Valentines, so part 1 of the case is done!” Moon exulted. She went to high five me. Of course I responded. It's such a joy to celebrate one’s friends’ triumphs. My palm stung from the impact.

“Well done, Moon!” I congratulated her. “Now all we have to do is get them back to the city and find out who is behind all this.”

“Yes, that could be harder. Let’s figure out where we are.”

We both checked our position using SPS. It gave us precise coordinates and a rough map location but the geography was very ill-defined. You often find that at the edges of The Server, where the channels are still plastic, waiting for members to move in and form something out of them.

I looked at the stars for inspiration, which did not help because I have only ever learnt three constellations, the Big Dipper, Orion and… er… Thingy. But I noticed the moons, still fairly low to the horizon.

“Moon? Don’t the moons always rise in the east?” I pointed to them.

“Yeah, of course. Yeah, so that must be the east. So that high ridge is probably the Edge of the World, and, uh…” Moon turned around slowly, scanning the horizon. “Could that skyglow be Server City?”

The skyglow was north-west of us, a general pale radiance of the hazy atmosphere, stained red in the centre by what surely must be the famous searchlights of the Scarlet Cathedral.

We tried to confirm our suspicions by asking Maps for directions from Current Location to the Scarlet Cathedral. First by car, then public transport, then plane, and finally bicycle or on foot. Nothing worked.

“There can’t be any roads nearby. How tiresome! Tell you what though, Moon, I can smell fresh water.”

“What d’you mean?”

“I’ve spent enough time around lakes and rivers to know we must be near one now. Stand quiet and listen for a minute.”

The wind was low, a mere rustle in the shrubbery and beyond that, there was a rhythmic slapping of gentle waves against a shore. So I thought.

“Can you hear it?” I asked. Moon nodded.

“Sounds like water,” she agreed. “Let’s take a look.”

“I’ll go first,” I insisted. “I’m a very good swimmer if I fall in.”

“Yeah, good plan. But don’t fall in is a better one.”

We scouted around carefully and soon found the shore, then we followed it until we came back to the place we had started. It was mostly grassed banks too high to climb out if you fell in, lined with scrub and a few larger trees whose branches reached over and sometimes down into the water. We found a sandy beach where it would be easy to wade in and out. We went to the water’s edge. It made me feel thirsty.

“I feel thirsty.”

“Me too,” agreed Moon. “I wish I had brought a bottle of water.”

A dead sheep floated slowly by, its pale matted fur ghostly in the weak moonlight.

“Yuck! I don’t feel thirsty anymore,” I said.

“Me neither,” Moon concurred.

“But the good thing is, we can say it’s a pretty big river and the flow is basically southwards, so this must be the East River. It’s the only major waterway between Server City and the Edge of the World.”

“Yes. Maybe it’s lucky we’re on an island. Skyen’s wolves might get us otherwise.”

“You’ll be safe from them as long as you’re with me, Moon.” I rubbed the scars on my ear, and a few sparks of mana drifted away.

“Sorry for the tangent, Pia. Look, I didn’t time the flight here but it must have been about 15 minutes and drones don’t go very fast. Besides, we can see the city lights just on the horizon, so it should be 20 miles away at the most.”

“As the crow flies.”

“Yes.”

“Well.” I paused. “Have you got any ideas about how we can get off this island?”

I didn’t want to swim the East River in the dark.

* * * * *

To be continued…

I'm writing a load of fiction. My latest story starts here... This is the index of all the stories...

We're not very big on official rules. Rules lead to people looking for loopholes. What's here is about it. 
   
Made in jp
[MOD]
Anti-piracy Officer






Somewhere in south-central England.

Chapter 7 -- Reversed Charges


We sat at the edge of the island, looking out at the dark waters, trying to think what to do. A bag of donuts and a can of hot coffee would help if I could work out how to get them, so I concentrated on that.

“It’s a bit cold,” Moon stated the obvious, “But we should be fine as long as we've got clothes.”

“It's good I persuaded Pure Love to give us proper protective equipment.”

“How d’you make that out? All you did was complain!”

“Well, obviously I cunningly lured them into a situation where they thought they would have a chance to see me in my undies. And bingo!”

Moon snorted. “Were you angling at them? Are you kind of sweet on them?”

Pure Love did have a mature androgynous appeal, combined with a touching sadness around the topic of Valentines. They was a bit of an elder babe. My fingers wanted to run through Pure Love’s short hair, very slowly, at the apex of the nape of their neck.

“No… Maybe a bit… No of course not!” I protested. “They’s a suspect. I’m still convinced this is all about selling more stamps.”

“Perhaps, but it’s Kou who makes Coins off the stamps and she hired us to investigate the crime and she’d be stupid to get us to investigate a crime she committed herself. And Kou isn’t stupid.”

“Yes but remember that Cormoran Strike story where he was hired to investigate an apparent suicide by the very person who turned out to be the actual murderer.”

“Yeah, well maybe. Anyway, it’s not important right now. The next task is to get the cards back to the City. We have to think of the right member to ring for help.”

We made a list of everyone we knew who might be able to get quickly to an unknown island somewhere in the East River late on Valentine’s Eve, pick us up and get us back to the City along with about a ton of rediscovered cards.

1. The Garden Fairy Yura, using her magic portal
2. Lt Comulada and his Combat Search and Rescue helicopter
3. Lord Yuzu’s pilots, Algy and Ginger, who had access to several exotic aircraft
4. My old friend Graham Carr, captain of his own motor cruiser

I liked the magic portal option, because I’ve used it a few times before to fetch bikinis and stuff. You’d be surprised how easy it is, once you get used to the spatial dislocation. And it’s discreet.

But Moon disagreed. She wanted to go by helicopter, even though that bloody machine is festooned with machine-guns. I didn’t want to have to go up the rescue wire again, so I voted for Graham and the boat. Moon said a boat would be too slow.

In the end we agreed to ring Algy and Ginger. Lord Yuzu had a seaplane, a dropship -- he calls it that, it’s more of a gunship, really but it’s got a stealth field -- and a shiny new ornithopter. Any of them could get us off this island and back to the city in short time.

Then we found neither of us had any bars on our phones.

“FUCCIT!” raged Moon. “What are we going to do?”

“Don’t worry, Moon.” I tried to soothe her. “I’m sure I can think of something.”

That’s what I’m worried about,” she muttered under her breath. I pretended not to hear. Sometimes in the heat of the moment people say hurtful things they don’t really mean, and it’s easy to take umbrage and ruin a relationship. Why be that person?

The battery on my phone was getting a bit low.

“Listen, I’m just going to try and charge my phone off the drone.”

“Yeah, whatever…”

I left Moon moping on the dewy grass. I reckoned she had her waterproofs and there was no-one else on the island so she should be safe enough. I would go back and talk to her later.

The drones were still sat where they had landed, seven of them - a prime number - one with an empty cargo net because it had carried Moon and me. I walked around to look at all of them closely. They were flashing that occasional blip of light your laptop or maybe your phone does when it’s in sleep mode but the processor is still working so it can do, um, whatever it is processors do. Make the system work, I suppose. Wait for something to wake it up.

I found the waterproof hatch on my drone where you plug them in to charge and stuff. There was a standard USB port, so I fished a cable out of my handbag and plugged in.

The charging symbol lit up. I sighed with relief. Then the phone beeped urgently, and another menu flashed onto the screen. One I had seen before.

* * * * *

To be continued…

I'm writing a load of fiction. My latest story starts here... This is the index of all the stories...

We're not very big on official rules. Rules lead to people looking for loopholes. What's here is about it. 
   
Made in jp
[MOD]
Anti-piracy Officer






Somewhere in south-central England.

Chapter 8 -- Return to Sender


I rushed excitedly back to the beach.

“Moon! Moon! Something’s happened.”

“What is it?” She seemed alarmed. She held her chrome Beretta in her right hand, phone in her left.

“You remember when Chanmi put that digital intrusion software on my phone?”

Chanmi’s our cyberpunk sidekick. We recruited her to help with computer related crimes. She’s great.

“Yeah, the stuff she called ICE-Breakers. You thought it was a social media app to help people make small talk with dull guests at awkward parties.”

“Ha ha… I did not!” I chided her somewhat indignantly. "The point is I never uninstalled the app and it’s working.”

“What?”

“When I plugged my phone into the drone, the app activated by itself. It’s taken over the control system. I think. Come and see.”

We rushed back to the drone. My phone was still charging. The ICE-Breaker had done its job. The supposedly secure command system had been cracked open like a lobster and laid bare for us to mess around with. Luckily it was pretty simple, apart from an Advanced Options menu which I ignored.

“This looks easy. Even I could fly it. Where shall we go?”

“Wait, we need to proceed carefully and methodically,” Moon cautioned me. "Is there a Help icon?" She peered over my shoulder.

I tapped the button labelled “Next Drop.” A message popped up; Input Required: Barcode. I scanned the franked envelope of my Valentine card with my phonecam. The drone began to hum and switch on riding lights as it booted into flight mode.

“Quick, Pia, it’s going to take off!” Moon grabbed me, bundled us both into the mesh bag, and quickly zipped it shut. The drone’s rotors began to buzz at high power. It ascended gently, hovered above the island for 10 seconds, as if waiting to orient itself, then started to advance towards the lights of Server City, gaining height as it moved.

“Oh Goddess!” I felt sick at the gulf opening beneath me. I closed my eyes and sagged into the embrace of the cargo mesh. I let go my phone to hang on tight to the netting.

“gak!” shouted Moon. There was noise and movement of her scrabbling around for a second, then, "Pia, you idiot.” She huffed a deep sigh. “You need a new phone.”

“Uurgh,” I moaned, because my state of fear made it difficult to think about anything except getting back down on the ground. “Did you drop it?”

“You dropped it first."

"I'm sorry, Moon."

"It's okay. These things fly by themselves. We’ll just have to hope it’s going to land somewhere good.”

“Tell me when we get there.” I was huddled in on myself in misery. Moon put her arm around my shoulder and squeezed.

“We’re definitely heading for the city. The lights are brighter already.”

Five minutes passed.

“I can see the towers of the Cathedral. We’ll reach the south-eastern suburbs soon.”

Moon continued her slow travelogue as the drone advanced and she was able to recognise more of the channels and major landmarks of Server City.

“We’ve passed The Deep. We’re heading towards Meme Central. … We’re… It’s slowing down, dropping.”

I squeaked in fright.

“No, sorry, I mean it’s losing height in a controlled way. We’re going in to land, I think. We’re over… The Central Post Office?”

The drone touched down gently on a rooftop helipad. I sighed with relief, unzipped the cargo net and tumbled out before it could take off again. The voyage was over, though. The drone emitted a cheerful, melodious string of beeps and shut itself down. A bot came forward in response to the electronic flutings. I handed it the Valentine I had carried back from the island.

“You got mail,” I said. The bot took the envelope, scanned the barcode and set off down into the CPO building. Moon and I followed, protected from interference by the official Royal Mail uniforms we still wore.

“Where’s it going? I mean who’s it for, the card?” Moon asked.

“You’ll see in a minute.”

* * * * *

To be continued…

I'm writing a load of fiction. My latest story starts here... This is the index of all the stories...

We're not very big on official rules. Rules lead to people looking for loopholes. What's here is about it. 
   
Made in jp
[MOD]
Anti-piracy Officer






Somewhere in south-central England.

Chapter 9 -- Beautiful Lies

The bot led us to the office door with the nameplate Zer Pure White Love Princess. I expected this because I had addressed my card to them, but Moon was shocked.

“You didn’t, did you? Why, Pia?” she blurted.

But before I could explain, the door opened. Pure White took the Valentine from the bot and looked at the address. Then they noticed Moon and me standing behind the bot, and their face went white.

“How did you get back?” they blurted. I arched a meaningful eyebrow at my partner. She nodded her understanding.

“You owe us an explanation, Zer Princess,” Moon said sternly.

“You had better come in,” Pure White said, crestfallen. We all sat down at their desk, and Moon and I doffed our helmets. The superintendent rang for tea. They examined the Valentine carefully, smelt it, and looked at me.

“Is this the one you wrote, Olympe?”

“Check the signature,” I told them.

Pure White slit open the envelope and read the card carefully. They set it on their desk and began to cry softly, just gentle teardrops which slid down their cheeks.

“I’ve never had one before,” they choked out. “It is from you, even though you didn’t sign it, it’s got your scent and lipstick on it. Why did you send it?

“You told us to, and it made sense. To send a tracer through the system and follow it.” I replied, and held out a hankie to them. They dried their eyes.

“But why send one to me in particular?”

“You said you’d never had one, and I felt sorry for you. So I thought I could kill two birds with one stone, if that’s the right phrase. Do a trace and cheer you up as well with just one stamp. You wouldn’t believe the price of stamps now. Actually, I suppose you would.”

“But this card is a lie. You can’t love me. You hardly know me.”

“Then it’s a beautiful lie, and sometimes that’s better than the ugly truth. But give yourself a bit of credit, you’re not bad looking, you’ve got a kind of mature babe vibe going on and I… I’ve said too much.” I looked aside and down to hide my eyes.

“Mature?” They sounded miffed. “I’m only 40!”

“Olympe’s English,” Moon interjected. “If she says you’re not bad looking it means she thinks you’re rather attractive, Zer Princess. I’d go with that if I were you. But to get back onto practical matters, it’s obvious you’re the one who stole the Valentines. Do you admit it, or are we going to have to do a lot of tedious investigation? Shall I get a Mod down here to help?”

“NO! Please no Mods, they bite!”

“They don’t bite,” Moon stated confidently, “That’s just a stupid rumour someone started.” I rubbed my ear and said nothing.

“No Mods!” Pure White pleaded. “I admit it. I reprogrammed the drones to fly to the island and wait there,” they confessed. “I was going to fly them back a day later, get the cards delivered, and blame the delay on a system error.”

“But why, Pure White?” I asked them gently.

“I was jealous of everyone getting cards. You can’t understand what it’s like being the superintendent of post, faithfully delivering all those Valentines every year, and never to receive one yourself.”

It was a sad irony indeed. But who delivers Christmas presents to Santa? Actually I know the answer to that, only it’s a different story, so back to Pure White Love.

“Okay. Thank you,” Moon said. “If you’ll unjam the delivery right now, we’ll let you off and make sure it’s all smoothed over with the Mods. They probably won’t even ask for the details, as long as the cards are on time.”

“I’ll need to use my computer,” Pure White told us. “Is that okay?”

Just then, the door opened to admit an old-fashioned self-propelled trolly. Our tea was here! A full service with china cups and saucers, a pretty red and gold cosy on the pot, hot water for a topup, milk, and lemon, and…

“Ooh, biscuits!” I exclaimed in delight. “Shall I be mother?” I began to pour for everyone. Pure White asked for a slice of lemon and no sugar. They pulled their computer towards them, typed a code, and hit Enter.

“The Valentines must flow,” they said.

I slid their cup across the desktop, handed Moon hers, and passed the plate of biscuits around. We sat and sipped and munched for a couple of minutes.

“Why are you going to let me off, Ms Potato?” Pure White asked. “Won’t Mistress Kou want to punish me?”

“Where’s the crime?” she replied. “Everyone’s cards will arrive on time. Olympe and I were never in real danger. We would have spent a cold night and then swim in the morning. You’ll never pull this stunt again, so what’s the good of turning you in?”

“It isn’t what I expected.”

“We’re kuudere detectives,” I explained. “We’ve always been ready to walk the soft edges of the law, to serve natural justice. Kou likes members to solve problems by themselves, and this one’s done.”

I finished my tea.

“Well, it’s been great but I had better toddle off. Places to go and all that,” I announced, and got to my feet. Moon also stood.

“Olympe… Before you go, please may we exchange contact info?” Pure White asked.

“Sorry, I lost my phone.”

Pure White’s face fell.

“But here’s my calling card.” I gave them the one with just a QR code and the letters PIA, printed in navy blue on a cream board. “Call me, maybe?”

Pure White smiled and nodded. I wondered how long I would have to wait.

We bowed our farewells and went to change into our normal clothes. It felt good to be back in a slinky dress and high heels. I cruised happily up and down the pavement while Moon summoned a cab.

“Well, Pia, another successful case. You’ve definitely got your mojo back. Can I give you a ride home?”

“Thanks. And thank you for everything tonight, Moon. I would have gone out of my mind if you weren’t with me.”

“No sweat. You and me, we’ve always got each other’s back.”


THE END

I'm writing a load of fiction. My latest story starts here... This is the index of all the stories...

We're not very big on official rules. Rules lead to people looking for loopholes. What's here is about it. 
   
 
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