Friday August 24th, 1936 The essential thing about a career as an Adventuress is to learn to make the most of one's opportunities, however unpromising it seems - "where there's muck there's brass", as Prudence frequently says. I was up bright and early, regretfully combed out my fur markings and dressed in my neatest Euro costume by eight: by half past I was on a water taxi heading across to Casino with my logbook, papers and identification. I only had the copy of my passport that the Songmark staff made when I first arrived, and was rather worried about the lack of a valid one. Unfortunately my (jolly useful and fully documented) identity of Kim-Ahn is an entertainer not a pilot, and all my flying papers are in my own name. Not surprisingly, it turned out to be a private customer rather than a commercial air company I was due to see; the Madston Hotel has function rooms on the ground floor they hire out for business meetings and parties, and I found myself fourth in the queue waiting outside the door. Oddly enough the other three were female too; some companies do express that preference and not only for the same reasons as Miss Morgaine Molson the film director. Two of the lady pilots I recognised from the Pilot's Union halls; both of them canines from Tillamook with far more experience than me by all accounts. My ears rather sank as I saw them in the line ahead of me, and recalculated my chances steeply downwards. I had barely said hello when the door opened and another familiar snout appeared, a brown bear girl from Rain Island who flies with the Air Reserve. She stormed out, having evidently heard something that did not sit well with her breakfast digestion. The other three followed her in turn, and none of them were in there for more than ten minutes - one of them was out in two. I was decidedly puzzled about what sort of trip was being planned, but put my most confident face on when the voice within called me to enter. I was the last one to be seen, which encouraged me greatly. The room was a sparsely furnished business suite with plain tables, hard leather chairs and a telephone, the sort anyone can rent for ten shells a day. Behind the desk was a thin and very striking wolf lady dressed in a very businesslike yellow blouse and elegant skirt with red highlights that quite perfectly set off her fur; a Rachorska creation unless I miss my guess. She smiled pleasantly, her ears going up in interest as she saw me and glanced down to some papers on her desk. As she greeted me, I was agreeably surprised to spot she is English too, and of a very good style as if she had been to one of the better public schools. It was just like one sees in the pulp magazines: she introduced herself only as Miss Susan, and told me she had a job that needed doing that needed discretion and would take a week or more. Seeing my reaction she laughed lightly and reassured me it was entirely legal, adding that smugglers do not interview people in this style. It was a ferry flight of two passengers and some personal baggage, and it has to be dawn tomorrow - the aircraft being a nearly new Sikorski of a standard pattern with no great flying peculiarities that she is sure I can handle. My logbook does not mention flying that make, but I have flown twin-floats before and was rather taken by the idea. Payment of twenty shells for each leg of the flight, five shells a day retainer before the return trip and other bonuses available for extra duties if required - it is no fortune but it would buy a lot of eighty-five octane petrol for my Sand Flea. I did point out that I am hardly an experienced pilot but Miss Susan just smiled and reassured me I have all the qualifications she is looking for, and indeed she had heard my name before. I suppose the reputation of Songmark goes a long way in these islands, and I have been photographed in the Daily Elele with my dorm at the dance contests. One does not do well in those without stamina and good balance, which are important things for a pilot to have. It was then that I found out what had sent the other applicants running for the door - the destination is Krupmark Island! She dipped her ears when she saw my reaction, and revealed the urgency of the flight; there are no doctors she can trust on Krupmark, but her dear brother is stranded there and she needs to get one to him. The doctor is arriving on a scheduled air service tonight, and she fears the delay that taking a ship would entail, plus the risk of pirates on the way there and back. As I well remember, there is no way to get to that island commercially. Well! I can hardly turn down the prospect of a mercy mission, no matter where it is heading. There are some perfectly respectable folk on Krupmark, such as the missionary Mrs. Critchley we met last summer - I imagined someone like her lying sick and me standing over here in safety, turning up my snout at the idea of a rescue mission just because of the dangerous neighbourhood. Not the sort of thing that would make my family proud of me. There is also the little matter of the Krupmark Island Fragment: I have held the Cranium Island equivalent with my bare paws, and have a fair idea what to look for and how to sense it even if it is buried deep under the Thief's Bazaar. Saimmi did say nobody must to go in there unprepared, and as Father always quotes, "Time spent in reconnaissance is never wasted." If I could just get an idea which end of the island it is buried, it would be a big help and cut a lot of the risks for whoever is tasked with tracking it down eventually. With all that in mind, I could hardly turn the offer down. Although I had promised myself never to set paw on that island again, in the circumstances I could bring back a lot of useful experience that someone else will be very glad of. We shook paws on the deal, and Miss Susan promised the money for the outward trip would be in my bank as soon as our flight cleared Spontoon waters tomorrow. I wondered at the time how she knew my bank details, but remembered all Songmark girls are required to open a local account and she knows exactly where I am studying. My first big break! I almost danced out of the room, and though it was barely lunchtime treated myself to a large Nootnops Blue at Shanghai Sadie's on the south shore by Pirate's Cove. For all I know it could be the last one I have till I return; pilots on retainer are generally expected to be available to fly at a minute's notice, and being out there I will need all my wits about me. This time round at least I know what I am getting into; I have had another year of Songmark training and certainly will not be getting into the same scrapes. (Later) I returned to find Helen and Saimmi had vanished off to Main Island, where there is a dance festival near the waterfall that has a lot of significance quite lost on anyone who does not read hula. They left a message for me to join them for the evening dances if I got back from my interview on time. It was a pity, but I can hardly spend the night in Native costume on Main Island and get back to Casino in flying kit before dawn. I left a note with the good news and put together my flying kit along with maps, charts and the necessary supplies for a week away. Maria and Saffina were in, and they congratulated me on my good luck. This time next year Saffina should have her own license; if I can build on this success I will very happily pass on the contract to her. Of course Helen will worry, but there is no helping it; this is a trip for one pilot and only the passengers Miss Susan is paying for. Saturday August 25th, 1936 Well, though I did promise myself never to return here, Krupmark Island has not done badly for me so far. I had arranged a water taxi for dawn, and by six was at the old China Dock looking over a very clean Sikorski painted in the livery of "International Deliveries", a company registered in Macao but probably quite unknown to the authorities even there. Miss Susan was there along with a rather wizened badger who I took to be the Doctor; at least he had a traditional black bag and some well-wrapped crates labelled "Medical Supplies" that I helped secure in the back seat. Miss Susan wore a very neat flying suit of black leather trimmed canvas with high Russian type boots; certainly she looked the very image of an efficient captain of industry. The distance is less than I flew in my license qualifying flight, and with the well-known landmarks of the Kanim Islands to give me an initial heading, in clear weather I am sure I could have found my way without a map. Still, I have an actual employer depending on me now and was keen to get us there by the fastest possible route; the Sikorski is quite fast but with strong headwinds it took a hundred and thirty minutes to cover the two hundred and ten miles before the rise of Mount Krupp appeared on the horizon. Looking from above I was surprised to see not one but two airstrips; the one near Fort Bob I had visited with Helen and another one on the far side of the island. Being in a floatplane I headed for the main jetties; as I landed Miss Susan handed me a Morse pattern to flash with the landing lights. There is no air traffic control here, but it seems the locals have a basic "friend or foe" system as we pulled up to the jetty unmolested despite spotting machine-guns manned on rooftops overlooking the harbour. A destroyer could flatten this place, but a standard police launch would get short shrift. As I write, I am set up in a basic room up on the first floor of what seems to be a small hotel. Fort Bob is much as I remember it, with a sort of vibrant energy mixed with brooding menace. We met two large and heavily armed bears at the waterfront, evidently bodyguards known to Miss Susan, and as she snapped orders concerning docking the Sikorski I joined her and the Doctor on the short walk to the hotel. It is nothing like those ramshackle wooden buildings we found down on The Beach, and indeed seems rather a quiet place. Unlike last time I was here I do not have to poke my snout into things, which was risky even with Helen as backup, and if really necessary can just stay in the room earning money on retainer till I get the aircraft keys again and fly the Doctor back next week! Money for old rope, as Beryl says. (Later) I did expect there would be the occasional problem in a place like this. Miss Susan knocked on the door half an hour ago, now wearing a severe but very fetching red dress. Her ears were right down and she seemed very different, growling that local thieves have made off with half the luggage including all my own. She looked me over speculatively and promised she would add to my bonus in compensation when I got back, and could probably find something to fit me in the meantime. As I was wearing a flight suit that was proving rather warm, that was certainly a relief. On Spontoon a quick hour's foraging in the woods could provide me with the materials for a Native costume, but nobody seems to wear them here and as a paid employee I must do my best to look respectable. Sunday August 26th, 1936 Dear Diary - the four other candidates who stormed out of the interview as soon as they heard the destination had the right idea after all. I should have known there were no respectable missions involving Krupmark Island! The first thing that happened was recognising the cheerful Cougar maid who brought up breakfast to my room. I have been served by her before, though it was a year ago and I was wearing very different clothing at the time. Although she seemed not to remember me, I remember her serving Helen and me a breakfast of reconstituted dried egg and tinned bacon early in the morning in a courtyard behind The Beach - and if the staff here are the same, the industry that pays them very probably is. Just as I was about to sit down to eat there was a knock on the door and without waiting for a reply Miss Susan walked briskly in, followed by a strange-looking long eared shrew girl carrying a neatly folded selection of clothes draped over her arm as one sees the staff doing in photographs of fashion boutiques. Miss Susan introduced her as Judy, explained she was in charge of dressmaking and such here and said I was expected downstairs in half an hour. With that she was off, leaving me with my whiskers bristling in shock and rather less appetite for breakfast than I had two minutes before. Whatever else happens, at Songmark they tell you to eat any meal put in front of you, as one never really knows when the next one will be. I shovelled the tinned food down rather dry-mouthed, while Judy bustled around looking me over critically like a mechanic on a just-landed aircraft checking for obvious faults to be fixed. She really is rather strange looking for a shrew, and when I spotted her Australian accent I did ask about it. She grinned toothily and proudly announced she is a silver Bilby, the only one on the island. I should think she would be unique on most islands, as I have never met one before. I had thought she was a rabbit and shrew cross, looking at her snout and ears. She has a (lack of) figure rather like Kansas Smith, but of course does not seem to feel the lack, her ancestry being what it is. It was with some relief that I saw the costumes were all quite respectable, and mindful of the heat outside I chose a white tennis outfit complete with white sun-hat. The effect was rather striking, and though it was obviously designed for someone rather shorter than me it fitted very well, and scented as perfectly clean. With Judy happily assisting me I had my fur combed and was escorted down to the ground floor right on schedule, though still having the same sort of mixed feelings as an early Christian being promised top billing at a Circus. The ground floor room was curtained heavily against the streaming sunshine outside, and was laid out as a far more sumptuous office than the Casio Island one where I met Miss Susan. The desk was mahogany with a leather top the size of a tent groundsheet, and all the furniture was leather and quite opulent: totally European and very different in style from the usual local cane and bamboo models one sees around Spontoon. Miss Susan really seemed very different than I had seen her on Casino Island, curtly giving folk orders and keeping the place a scurrying hive of activity. She softened slightly when the Doctor came out from the back room, and asked about the patient - the old badger harrumphed and handed her a paper, which she looked at and nodded thoughtfully. Just then she was called away, and I took a peek in the back room at the patient I came here to assist. Filling most of the couch was a very fat wolf gentleman, looking quite distinguished and impeccably dressed in a slightly old-fashioned morning suit with a wing-tip collar. He must have heard or scented me outside the door, as he called out politely for me to enter; he has a most marvellously cultured voice and I wondered what he could be doing in a place like this. Well! We had ten minutes of very interesting conversation, from which I gathered he is Mr. Leon Allworthy who owns the building - though not, he says, the business currently beingrun here. He thanked me profusely for getting the doctor to him, confirming as I thought that there is no scheduled service to this island. He smiled sadly and waved at his bulk, explaining that he is almost a prisoner here - and though he looks overfed it is his kidneys that have made him balloon out with water retention. It seems a very sad story, of how he came out from England and bought this place years ago and tried to make it into a respectable hotel - but when he fell ill with Dropsy his own sister Miss Susan turned the business into something rather worse. She is in charge now, and though she does look after his needs it is only so he can sign documents and such. Although there are no lawyers and official bankers on Krupmark, he is still the property owner on paper and Miss Susan needs her brother's signatures for various transactions off-island. Possibly the influence of the Fragment corrupts people who stay here too long as well as attracting them here in the first place.  Just then I heard the door open, and Miss Susan entered leading five rather scantily girls whom she paraded in front of her brother. There were two bears, one of them a polar bear, and the other three were stunningly built canines, mongrels by their looks but very pretty. Miss Susan had them twirl and pose, then asked rather archly if he approved of the new talent - he nodded wordlessly, and with a snap of her fingers she summoned them away. Oh my. That is what I call rather cruel. As they left Mr. Allworthy whispered that his sister showed off all the canine girls knowing that looking at them is all he can do. Just then Judy reappeared, and she escorted me back upstairs to my room directly above. Of course, on Krupmark one can hardly take anything for granted, and when I asked Judy about what I heard she nodded with a glint in her eye, and said everything was just as I had heard it. Miss Susan is awfully strict and runs the place like a real martinet, Judy says. By her account, Mr. Allworthy hardly ever leaves his chair any more, which is no sort of healthy lifestyle and I can well believe he needs a doctor. It must be awful to have that Dropsy problem when everyone simply thinks he is fat. I asked about Miss Susan showing off the "new arrivals" and Judy giggled at that - it is a case of "water, water, everywhere and not a drop to drink" as all the girls are totally forbidden from getting friendly with him. She looked at me speculatively and commented that Miss Susan only ever brought in non-canine cleaning staff and the like who have any contact with her brother; the pilot before me was a reptile girl and the one before that a small squirrel. I definitely felt my ears blushing, recalling how the four canines in the employment interview were discouraged from taking the post, and how Miss Susan had looked me up and down then mentioned I had all the qualifications I needed. I remember what Miss Devinski told us in our first week or so in the ... social health talks, about what to expect in that way from gentlemen of some species. Madame Maxine had been equally candid, and pointed out that it is an experience after which a girl would never be quite the same again, unless she was of a matching species. Judy waved farewell, commenting that I looked very good in the tennis outfit, and said that she had to be about her duties. She sighed rather wistfully, commenting that she stores and cleans and refurbishes wonderful clothes every day, but being a marsupial none of them will properly fit her so she too can only look on in envy. It must be like hotels hiring teetotal bar staff. I was left alone for an hour or two to think about my position. Last time I was here, Helen and I had freedom of movement but no safety: right now it looks as if I have a measure of safety (if Miss Susan wants me to fly her doctor out again) but being "on call" as a pilot I doubt I will be free to go wandering around the island, even if it was safe to do so. Those three "enforcers" we ran into last time might recognise me, apart from the usual hazards of the island. Sometime before luncheon, Miss Susan entered without knocking and announced that if I wished I could have afternoons off, as long as a bodyguard goes with me and I agree to follow his advice - in other words, no running off. I agreed hastily, not being too keen on being cooped up in here for a week, and indeed I hardly had a chance to look for the Krupmark Fragment on the way in. She added that my payment would be entirely on return to Spontoon except for what had already gone into my bank; rather a blow as I had planned on making the most of Krupmark's rather specialist markets. No sooner said than done - she snapped her fingers and a very strikingly patterned canine gentleman seemed to appear out of the shadows: a Cape Hunting Dog unless I miss my guess. She introduced him as Kwame, commenting that he had no other name, and obeys only her orders. Seeing my expression, hers hardened and she snapped that I would only get this opportunity once. Well, five minutes later I was on the main street of Fort Bob, walking behind Kwame and trying to look nonchalant. Though the costume is perfectly respectable the skirt is a little short for the circumstances, and I would have felt happier wearing a flight suit with a holstered pistol as we did last time. Fort Bob seems quite full for daytime, and I really did not want anyone to recognise me. This skirt really fits with Kim-Anh rather than me as Amelia, and I hoped Wo Shin was not here visiting her family when I passed the garish sign of the Lucky Dragon Casino (all signs are garish here; there is nothing one needs to be discreet about buying and selling.) I certainly was glad of a bodyguard; half a dozen times folk commented rather indelicately after me, but were suddenly quiet when Kwame glared at them. There was one exception, a big and dangerous-looking Cape Buffalo gentleman who addressed him in a language I did not recognise: Kwame gestured at me and replied in the same tongue, seeming highly amused. Next time I will wear my flying-suit, whether or not I steam-cook in it! I did my best to "scent out" some trace of the Fragment, but it was hardly wonderful conditions in which to concentrate on what Saimmi had taught me. I did get a general "taste" of it but no more; I have no idea how that relates to its real strength and can hardly go quartering about the town playing "hot-hot-cold" all day. Of course, this stroll was not wholly for my benefit; Kwame had business at the telegraph office and ordering in supplies. The economy here is quite topsy-turvy with whatever is illegal or restricted in most places being sold at wholesale rates, but a hideous mark-up on every normal product. A whole dollar or Spontoonie shell for a small can of corned beef! Thinking about it, this island seems to have very little food production (I doubt whoever took the trouble to plant crops around here would get to eat any of them) and nobody would be expected to go into business here for any sane or sensible profit margin. From what Wo Shin has let slip, folk pay taxes to the Bosses rather than any Government, and although the buildings are not insured hiring bodyguards is just as expensive. We did a rapid look through the Thieves' Bazaar but there was nothing I wanted and could afford. The firearms seemed to be mostly Russian this time round, Mosin-Nagant rifles and pistols such as we found on that slaver; certainly nothing I wanted to take back with me to Songmark. All too soon I was back at the building - one wing of it is certainly laid out as a hotel, where the owner and staff stay, so Kwame tells me, and the rest of it is the "business end." That is plus whatever Miss Susan has at The Beach. My tail drooped considerably as a horrid thought struck me - what if it was Miss Susan's establishment that Lars and I raided last time I was here? Lars has not mentioned having any particular trouble so his part in that rescue is presumably still secret - but the cook working here served me breakfast that day, and someone might put two and two together. I imagined the ... uses folk might put me to, if they discovered I had helped The Beach lose one of its expensive assets. Perhaps it is as well I am dressed very differently than last time, though I could certainly use some fur dye. (Later) At least, I am not exactly a prisoner in this room. I am invited downstairs to dine tonight, and will make the most of it. I had thought of asking Judy if along with costumes she handled temporary fur dye - possibly I could do well disguised as a tabby but NOT as Kim-Anh, now I think about it. Changing into that fur here would effectively "blow my cover" amongst these folk and whomever they feel like informing; right now only four people outside Madame Maxine's know about my Siamese face, and by all accounts Madame M is an absolute grave of secrets. I remember the exact markings of that supercilious tabby girl at the British Embassy on Spontoon; if her bosses called her to the carpet after a secret agent thought he spotted her in a Krupmark bordello I fear I might be quite unsympathetic. Looking around my room, I spotted my flight suit was missing - when Judy came in she cheerfully announced she had sent it to be cleaned, and it would be back in a few days. My tail drooped at that - the suit was loaded with small items of kit, lock picks and fish-hooks and all the things one does not want Customs officials asking questions about. With that away for cleaning and my luggage stolen I realised I was standing with nothing but my fur and my wits, in a borrowed costume that I doubt belongs to the local tennis club. Oddly enough I found the idea something of a thrill; an Adventuress can hardly dislike danger, and the better the challenge the better the triumph. At least I can hardly lose anything else; the only way is up, as Beryl says. Judy brought in another selection of clothing - luckily I am of a fairly standard figure, having nothing special like a skunk tail to be tailored for. There was a very nice dinner frock, of the sort folk wear for dances and such back in England; again it was a little short but one cannot expect Judy to have known my luggage would be stolen and have a tailored costume made up for me. She wears a plain white top herself, a knee-length skirt and has the bottom buttons of her shirt open to teasingly show off her pouch; she spotted my gaze and dipped her ears sadly, commenting there are few marsupial gentlemen around to appreciate the view and nobody else cares tuppence. It was a very fine evening, actually - downstairs was cool with plenty of fans and Mr. Allworthy has such a fund of stories I quite forgot the circumstances as one might while enjoying playing cards in a trench in the Great War. He has almost nothing to eat as I saw from the plate Miss Susan had servants bring in; though the air was rich with the scent of roast chicken he explained that was his sister's meal, her apartments being just next door. He cannot even ring staff himself in emergencies; he showed me one button that he explained rang next door and nowhere else. My own dinner was rather good, roast chicken and canned vegetables. There was only water to drink, and Mr. Allworthy regretfully admitted that wine was another thing he has not been allowed to enjoy in years, for his health. Oddly enough, I have read the books about this sort of condition in my medical course on Spontoon, and though the diet for kidney patients should be low in salt there is nothing against a glass or so of wine. I must say, I got on rather well with him - he is the first really cultured and well-spoken Gentleman from Home I have met, apart from Major Hawkins who has such an unfortunate opinion of me. He does not dwell on his woes, merely mentioning that he left a respectable financial position to track down his sister who had disappeared in suspicious circumstances - as it turned out she had arranged it all herself, and he has never left the island since. Of course, as owner of this place on paper he is thrown into business rivalries with the criminal bosses who run the island, and he says folk will say all sorts of things about him. I took the chance to ask about other folk I know of on Krupmark such as Lars and Mrs. Critchley, without saying how I know them. Of course he knows them both; Lars was originally something of a business rival (I assume that was before Miss Susan set up this place) and nowadays is more into supplying the most surprising things. I asked about the missionary Mrs Critchley, which seemed to surprise him for a second; Leon indicated she had made several converts, even including a pair who came here to be missionaries of another denomination. There was a photograph on the sideboard of two young wolves in the costume of just before the War - I recognised him and a very affectionate younger Miss Susan, before they came out here and were stricken with sickness and the influence of the Fragment respectively. It is all very sad, and I wished I could do something about it. Possibly removing the Fragment might help matters. All too soon Miss Susan walked in from her rooms next door (there is no lock between them) and "suggested" I retire upstairs. As I closed the door behind myself, I clearly heard her laugh and comment that she sold entertainment for others, but had to make it for herself. My ears definitely blushed at that, it is definite cruelty on her part like dangling a bone out of reach of a hungry dog. Well! We shall see about that.  Another scorching hot day, with no flying duties. I spent the morning exercising in my room, before being allowed out into Fort Bob with Kwame acting as guide and bodyguard. He seems highly amused by it all. Choosing a costume was tricky; Judy said most handy ones were being used or washed. Surprisingly enough there was a Spontoon Islands lady constabulary uniform that would have fitted me; I have no idea how that got there (I checked and was relieved not to find any repaired bullet-holes.) Still, I expect folk might object if I walked down the streets of Fort Bob wearing that. We settled on a practical and comfortable Pan-American Airways stewardess's uniform but I insisted on taking off the hat and rank badges; I have not earned those and one has principles to maintain. This time I had prepared myself with the appropriate rituals before setting out: though closing one's eyes is not a good idea for an instant on those streets I managed it long enough to focus half a dozen times. The impression I got was it was further up the hill, towards a collection of what passes for stately homes; Kwame tells me that is where the real "high-flyers" on this island live. Just my luck. In Fort Bob anyone with money could buy or borrow a building and start tunnelling; I expect the place is riddled with items and people secretly buried there already. But the folk who live on the hill probably take extreme precautions with their security, and since Father's sappers tunnelled into and blew up Messines Ridge in the Great War, the idea of mysterious tunnels heading their way makes even law-abiding folk uneasy. The Thieves' Bazaar turned up trumps today: another Webley-Fosbury revolver that I could just afford! That cleaned me out completely; I could only buy the cylinder of rounds it came loaded with, but it is better than nothing. The bad news was, Kwame spotted me buying it (this costume has no suitably deep pockets to hide suchlike) and when we got back to the Allworthy house Miss Susan promptly confiscated it until I go outside again or leave Krupmark. She did not seem too upset by the idea; I suppose on this island folk are asked to check in their weapons at the door the same way other places collect hats and coats. Judy dropped round again; it seems afternoon is the quiet time here, and she is always eager to help out. I had spotted Miss Susan "frisking" her this morning to check she is not carrying anything forbidden in or out, paying particular attention to her pouch. Weapons are not the only thing one is not allowed to keep in this place, and Miss Susan is rather unreasonable to her staff as well as her relatives. With that in mind, I asked Judy if she would be willing to help with my idea. Her eyes went wide, but she came up with a mischievous grin and said there is a first time for anything. She was quite flattering to me, claiming I must be the only Good Girl on the island, which puts my scarcity premium beyond price. An odd way of putting it, but Lars said much the same and I suppose they are thinking in Krupmark Island terms. Having the job she has, she spotted a lot of ... practical problems I would not have thought of. Miss Susan's room is right next door to her brother's, and though she is elsewhere supervising in the evening she does drop in to freshen up and such, and would hear any unusual activity. My ears blushed bright red, remembering various folk commenting that I have on occasion yowled the place down. She has an answer for that, and while I cannot quite like the idea I can see the practicality. Another problem she solved was getting down without alerting anyone in the corridor; by good luck this room is right above Mr. Allworthy's window and after vanishing for a few minutes she reappeared with plenty of climbing rope. This must be like Beryl says robbing a bank is like; half the fun is in the planning and anticipation (she says.) I have no idea what she normally uses some of this equipment for; presumably it is for emergency fire escapes out of windows and such (there are no fire exits or other legally enforced safety featured in a place like this.) (Later) I managed to pass the word to Mr. Allworthy (Leon, as he asks him to call him) at suppertime before being escorted back upstairs where all the preparations are hidden in the laundry bag; not under the bed, the first place anyone looks. I cheerfully expect a disappointment, but the thought's the thing and no good deed ever goes unrewarded. Tuesday August 28th, 1936 Oh my. The good thing is that nobody was remotely disappointed, and I was wrong. The bad thing was - Madame Maxine was very, very right. Wednesday August 29th, 1936 Out again to Fort Bob, having recovered far more rapidly than I thought. Leon is healthier than one might think, in some respects, and whatever he might not have done these past many years, he has forgotten nothing. I suppose it would have been much the same had I followed my tail rather than my head with that nice Lionel Leamington on the Sullivan Isles - except that he had everything to learn and here I am finding out that I do too. As Mrs H does say, a native "Wahini" is expected to know rather a lot more that a Euro bride, and I hope Jirry will not mind too much when I tell him the circumstances. He is sure to notice. I persuaded Kwame to head towards the top of the hill; there are no tourists here and anyone walking around with a camera and notebook would probably be given cause to regret it. Some of the houses are quite old, certainly what on Spontoon they call the "Plantation days" and there is even what looks like an old church on the ridge itself. I rather doubt it has any services these days, or at least any that its builders would approve of. There was a spot of "dead ground" invisible from elsewhere that I pleaded tiredness in to rest a minute, and managed to concentrate hard. Definitely the Fragment is here, somewhere within a hundred paces or I miss my guess! Of course this would have to be the best guarded spot on the island. I really cannot see us sneaking in to dig for it with a team disguised as archaeologists or drain repair folk, and hardly see right now what we can do about it (Molly's suggestion would no doubt start with a plastering of thousand-pound bombs with delay fuses, "such a saving in time digging the rest of the hole" as I feel sure she would say.) Judy was waiting for me on return, having a new consignment of dresses in from Spontoon, which she very helpfully gave me first pick of. I did ask what she was doing here in such a place - her tail drooped and she admitted she once had a slight brush with the law, being falsely accused of certain things that she would rather not go into. Considering what she now does for a living, anything that would embarrass her was certain to be distressing. She did say she was from a poor family and her usual dress on the farm had been dungarees and blouses made from calico offcuts rather than fine silks; she actually likes her current job and (she says) likes to see folk make the best of themselves. I liked dressing up dolls myself, when I was a kitten. Actually, she is proving a mine of information. She was of great practical help yesterday, and when she saw I am still determined to thwart Miss Susan's cruel ways, she had several suggestions. Vanishing off to her stock room for a minute she brought back a few button-sized glass phials in a handkerchief - highly refined, almost scent-free catnip oil, she told me. I could feel my ears blushing at the idea. Had anyone asked last week I would have said it was something I would never be in need of. Judy commented it was in great demand around here, but she could spare three doses and write them off to breakages (the oil is volatile, the ampoules fragile and the weather rather warm, so a few are always liable to pop.) Wednesday is the quiet night of the week on average she says so Miss Susan heads down towards the Beach to generally manage things and pay the staff, who are far too busy on Friday nights when most places traditionally hand out the wages. There is rather a difference between costumes that look fashionable in the usual sense and those that are practical for climbing up and down ropes in. I think I have managed to compromise though - and just hope Miss Susan does not come back early! There would be particular ... problems involved with having to rapidly get clear of Leon in emergencies, that not even Songmark had mentioned in detail yet. To be honest, our matron Mrs. Oelabe had told us something of what to expect, but the practice involved quite a stretch of the imagination, and et cetera. Thursday August 30th, 1936 Well, I have done it again - missed the Schneider Trophy "Speed week" by being stuck on Krupmark Island, as I promised myself I would never do again! Mind you, I promised myself several times I would avoid Krupmark entirely - and thinking about it, once I got here things have turned out not unlike last time, in many ways. Without meaning to, Judy gave me an awful fright today. I was asking her about the folk who live on the Hill, who are quite a mix from around the world and cooperate rather better than one might expect. She happily replied that folk find their natural place here - very few folk end up on the island unless they are the right sort to prosper and once here they stay (casualties aside, this being the sort of place it is.) This was when she was helping me clean up and such in the morning, something she seems very keen on doing. From everything I have heard about the Cranium and Krupmark Island fragments, they attract people to them who are already attuned that way, and once arrived only exaggerate what they already have. This is the second time in two years I have ended up here in what looked like perfectly reasonable circumstances at the time and handled the island on its own terms - I suppose one could say I am prospering here. Oh my. I do not like to think of that too much, but at Songmark they make one face up to uncomfortable facts. Miss Susan was a well-brought up girl of good pedigree before she got here, and now look at her. (I am not sure why Leon does not fit the picture; possibly his illness made him useless for the mischievous spirit of the island to use.) Though I have not heard of her in Krupmark, that Air-Pirate Queen Letitia Fosbury-Smythe was another girl of good family and an early Songmark graduate as well. I have another three nights here, then I will be back on Spontoon with my logbook and my bank account filled up, a nice reminder of a rather stressful trip. It is a good thing that most folk do not get up early here, as I was downstairs most of the night and only managed about three hours' sleep even so. Miss Susan had a few gruff comments about me lazing around all day, and hoping I was fit for the return trip. If only she knew! Thinking of fitness, Leon says he is feeling much better; quite a good deed all round though I say it myself, and one in the eye for Miss Susan. I have done my best to pump him for information without being too blatant about it. He does seem to know everything that goes on here - not surprisingly, as he admits that his sister has made use of his wits if nothing else, and he has little to do all day but think. He only lost his temper once when I mentioned Wo Shin and her family - he seems to have quite a down on them for some reason. He has outlined the "major players" who live up on the Hill, and warned that I should have nothing to do with them. If that is dangerous relative to the normal dangers of Krupmark, I will certainly take his advice. Here are worse places than Krupmark and folk who fall foul of Krupmark's rulers find that out. Although I have been out this afternoon I studiously avoided the Hill, having guessed anyway that it is not a healthy place to hang around. I concentrated on ruling out the rest of the island - there was a chance that it was far more powerful than I thought and was some way past The Hill on the far side. But I have gone around on all sides now while keeping a respectful distance; definitely the Fragment is there. Even if the residents were already in their present careers before being drawn to the island, I would guess they have become all the worse for its influence. Certainly the surviving priestesses after the Great Ritual had the right idea, putting it as far away from Spontoon as they could! It is just a shame they did not bury it on Metzger's Pyramid, that steep rock on the edge of the charts. That is too small to be inhabited except by seabirds, and those are already evil-tempered enough that I doubt it would make a difference. Friday August 31st, 1936 Only two nights to go! Last night there was a major gun-battle in Fort Bob; hearing the occasional shot is common but the ammunition sellers must be happy this morning as someone must have gone through a case or two. It is nearly full moon, which may account for it in some species. I was very conscious of the building being wooden and not proof against high-velocity rounds; indeed a few stray holes were being angrily pointed out by Miss Susan when I went out in the morning. It seems the folk on the Hill are tolerant of minor squabbles, but anything big enough to disrupt Business gets both sides jumped on from a great height with both paws and the claws out. The rulers keep the peace, though their idea of "peace" is rather different from most places. Judy has returned my flying suit, nicely washed and pressed but completely empty of all the hidden equipment. I am not looking forward to telling Miss Devinski just how I lost another button compass, and indeed on this trip I have lost more than that. She has no more of the refined catnip to spare, which is a pity - there is pints of the regular sort available but Miss Susan would spot that at the first sniff, and then the fat would be in the fire (an unfortunate phrase given Leon's shape.) It has helped, but much to my surprise I found myself managing without it perfectly well now. It is amazing what one can get used to. Apart from Judy, Kwame and the cooks I do not really get to talk with the other folk in the household, which is rather odd. Judy explains that she is on the permanent staff but the "business end" is worked by folk strictly on contracts. I asked about the rumour that anyone could get "bushwhacked and Shanghaied" as Helen would have put it - and Judy admitted that had happened on occasion. But she is perfectly safe, she said - and invited me to examine her tail. This is not something I generally do of course (scrubbing folks' backs and such in the shower is of course perfectly proper) but with some trepidation ran a paw down and found something hidden in the fur at the second vertebra from the tail-root. It was quite invisible from the surface, but teasing the silver fur aside I found a ring of fine gold wire with a gold bead on the inward-facing side, absolutely snug to her skin. She explained that she could fall asleep in the main street of Fort Bob, and though no doubt she would wake up robbed of every stitch and cowry, she herself would be safe. The sort of folk who kidnap people to Kuo Han and such places know what to look for, and studiously avoid anyone with such protection. Well! I did wonder how she managed to survive to make a long-term living here - now I know. Of course I could never wear such a thing, even if nobody else knew it was there or what it was. I will be out of here soon enough, and am never coming back - and that is definite this time! Saturday September 1st, 1936 Another scorching hot day, which started off rather differently than most. Last night Miss Susan had some business at The Beach which had her staying away all night. Judy was very keen on helping me out and says it will not be the same when I have gone. Although I hope to be Tailfast again this coming Solstice, it is something to have done good deeds along the way. One gets the impression good deeds are rare around here, somehow. Just as living downwind from a smelting works is bad for the lungs, living on top of the Fragment is bad for one's principles. Judy had a surprise for me, having mentioned to Leon she had shown me her protection, and he had expressed a wish to see me wearing the same. Miss Susan would throw an absolute fit if she knew. I can hardly count it as accepting gifts - in some respects it is only like the emergency equipment I lost in my flight suit, and is some exchange for that loss ( someone quite expert must have emptied that out, even the best-concealed items were gone.) Judy's nose was quite twitching with glee at the prospect and she also really seems very keen seeing it on me. The process was quite fascinating, and not unlike putting a hose clip on a radiator pipe. Judy had to comb my tail-fur back at just the right place and trim a tiny strip to bare the skin, less than a tenth of an inch, then she vanished to her stores and came in with a rather alarming-looking crimping tool she put the whisker-fine wire into its jaws and carefully measured it. With one squeeze the deed was done and the seal shut permanently - brushing my fur back, I checked and was relieved to find it is quite invisible. I can just feel it if I think about it: Judy says she has worn hers for two years without any problems. That is some protection at least, and though I might not have my other equipment now, on this island one needs all the help one can get. Leon seemed very gratified to see I had accepted his kind offer - he sadly commented that as his sister controls all the money, there is very little else he can give me in thanks for my kindness. I can definitely report that I managed to prove him wrong about that! It is just as well Judy managed to find a pair of suitably reinforced gloves to fit me, or I fear Miss Susan would be getting awfully suspicious about finding scratches on her brother - something that would definitely point to a feline having defied her orders. It was such a treat to talk with a properly cultured gentleman, and indeed he was eager to hear what news I had of England. In his condition travel is very difficult - with a sad wave he commented that returning to our Empire would be the last thing he would ever do, as it would surely be the end of him. Happily, I am quite agile and energetic enough for two. I really feel very different on Krupmark, and hope it is something I can quickly shake off when I leave. I feel very different in the clothes Judy selects for me, relative to our standard bush-jackets and steel-toecapped boots. If my Tutors could see me they would probably expel me on the spot - but when in Rome, etc, and they have never complained about us taking to Native dress on Spontoon. Luckily I managed to get away just as Miss Susan was entering the building, and escaped up the stairs rather than up the rope (rather conspicuous in daylight, I am surprised the bodyguards never seemed to notice. Possibly they are not used to dealing with someone of my training.) I have seen Miss Susan looking at me very closely, though if she examines my neck-fur for wear and tear there is unsurprisingly nothing to be seen, in the circumstances. From my window up on the first-floor I have quite a good view of the aircraft using both the main runway and the approaches to the harbour; with Krupmark's barrier reef there is a rather limited range of directions a seaplane can land in. Although in the long run crime does not pay (as I keep trying to convince Molly) certainly there are some very fine aircraft about. I am not sure where Miss Susan got that Sikorski from; she does not pilot herself and Leon says they do not own their own aircraft either. I would expect any reputable hire company to charge more for insurance flying to Krupmark than the aircraft is worth, as if anyone would offer insurance! The chances of it being stolen, damaged or seized by the police on its return to civilisation would be far too high. Just one more night, then back to Spontoon having completed my first commercial contract, something I am very happy to put in my log-book despite the circumstances. I suppose anyone who puts their name down for "unlimited" flying duties cannot be too surprised at what they get. There is generally a reason why more experienced pilots turn some of those contracts down, but experience is experience and certainly it has not been a dull trip! next |