Norbert murderously.
“Well find him and find out who paid him to say what he did, he must have been paid off like the man at the dock. Eva, start looking at media, online stuff anything that can let us know if something big happens.”
Eva giggled a little, “There’s no internet or tv here, just radio.”
“Ok,” continued Spencer assertively, though inwardly reeling with panic from the realisation he was now stuck in a world that didn’t have television. “Listen to the radio then, get out on the street and see what’s going on. Whatever this is I've got a feeling it’s going to be big. Think about what someone could do with this...” Silence rang out like bell, tension wrapping itself around them as they stood thinking. Spencer broke it.
“I need to go and have a little chat with Mr Spangler.” He walked off towards the door with Becky following him.
“He’ll be in his office on the top floor, what are you going to say to him?” Becky asked.
“I think he knows who’s done this, you saw his reaction, I think he was angry with himself as he should have seen this coming. We need to know what we’re up against and he’s the only one who can tell us.”
“He’s always refused to talk about his past and things.”
“Well it’s time for that to change," said Spencer as they reached the top of the musty wide staircase with the fading, floral carpet and set off down a corridor, Becky pointed down as she continued.
“He has a terrible temper.”
“No he doesn’t,” Spencer said darkly. “That’s not even him.”
They reached an ancient and battered door with ‘Spangler’ etched into a small brass plaque at its center. Spencer knocked loudly before Becky could ask him what he was talking about.
Spencer opened the door and entered before waiting for a reply.
A large wooden desk dominated the center of the crowded room which heaved with bookshelves stuffed with dusty tomes. Papers were strewn all over the desk and floor, each with scribblings and writing that looked illegible to Spencer. Brass candlesticks heavy in melted wax sat dotted around amongst the drifts of paper. It was not so much a ‘fire hazard’ as a ‘fire to be’ thought Spencer, as in, this place is definitely going to burn to the ground at some point and it would be best if people (particularly himself) weren't in it at the time.
Spangler sat in a leather swivel behind the desk facing to one side. Light speared through a round window behind him, the beam illuminating him from behind giving him a glow. His head was in his hands, his elbows on his knees. He didn’t turn around when they entered.
When Spencer spoke it was quietly, taking Becky by surprise who had thought he was going to tear into Spangler from the way he had been talking.
“You need to tell us who’s done this, you need to tell us how this all started, and you need to tell us before something happens to Colin or they use the device to do god knows what.”
The old man turned to them and sighed deeply.
~~~~
T hey’d walked for around twenty minutes through dull little streets with dull little shops. Pall had draped his ragged coat over Colin’s tied wrists so that people couldn’t see he was clearly being held captive. They still attracted quite a few odd looks though. A thin angular man wearing what appeared to be a fancy dress pirate costume, being followed by an enormous, square jawed Colin in a white, billowing shirt. His hair shining golden in the sun. Then, at the rear, a hawkish, shifty-eyed individual who people seemed to turn away from very quickly when they caught his eye, suddenly finding the pavement absolutely fascinating. This was not an everyday trio to be wandering these streets.
Colin had considered calling out when they had first seen other people milling about the streets as they’d made their way from the field towards civilisation. He hadn’t though in the end, thinking that it was quite possible that the man behind him
“Well find him and find out who paid him to say what he did, he must have been paid off like the man at the dock. Eva, start looking at media, online stuff anything that can let us know if something big happens.”
Eva giggled a little, “There’s no internet or tv here, just radio.”
“Ok,” continued Spencer assertively, though inwardly reeling with panic from the realisation he was now stuck in a world that didn’t have television. “Listen to the radio then, get out on the street and see what’s going on. Whatever this is I've got a feeling it’s going to be big. Think about what someone could do with this...” Silence rang out like bell, tension wrapping itself around them as they stood thinking. Spencer broke it.
“I need to go and have a little chat with Mr Spangler.” He walked off towards the door with Becky following him.
“He’ll be in his office on the top floor, what are you going to say to him?” Becky asked.
“I think he knows who’s done this, you saw his reaction, I think he was angry with himself as he should have seen this coming. We need to know what we’re up against and he’s the only one who can tell us.”
“He’s always refused to talk about his past and things.”
“Well it’s time for that to change," said Spencer as they reached the top of the musty wide staircase with the fading, floral carpet and set off down a corridor, Becky pointed down as she continued.
“He has a terrible temper.”
“No he doesn’t,” Spencer said darkly. “That’s not even him.”
They reached an ancient and battered door with ‘Spangler’ etched into a small brass plaque at its center. Spencer knocked loudly before Becky could ask him what he was talking about.
Spencer opened the door and entered before waiting for a reply.
A large wooden desk dominated the center of the crowded room which heaved with bookshelves stuffed with dusty tomes. Papers were strewn all over the desk and floor, each with scribblings and writing that looked illegible to Spencer. Brass candlesticks heavy in melted wax sat dotted around amongst the drifts of paper. It was not so much a ‘fire hazard’ as a ‘fire to be’ thought Spencer, as in, this place is definitely going to burn to the ground at some point and it would be best if people (particularly himself) weren't in it at the time.
Spangler sat in a leather swivel behind the desk facing to one side. Light speared through a round window behind him, the beam illuminating him from behind giving him a glow. His head was in his hands, his elbows on his knees. He didn’t turn around when they entered.
When Spencer spoke it was quietly, taking Becky by surprise who had thought he was going to tear into Spangler from the way he had been talking.
“You need to tell us who’s done this, you need to tell us how this all started, and you need to tell us before something happens to Colin or they use the device to do god knows what.”
The old man turned to them and sighed deeply.
~~~~
T hey’d walked for around twenty minutes through dull little streets with dull little shops. Pall had draped his ragged coat over Colin’s tied wrists so that people couldn’t see he was clearly being held captive. They still attracted quite a few odd looks though. A thin angular man wearing what appeared to be a fancy dress pirate costume, being followed by an enormous, square jawed Colin in a white, billowing shirt. His hair shining golden in the sun. Then, at the rear, a hawkish, shifty-eyed individual who people seemed to turn away from very quickly when they caught his eye, suddenly finding the pavement absolutely fascinating. This was not an everyday trio to be wandering these streets.
Colin had considered calling out when they had first seen other people milling about the streets as they’d made their way from the field towards civilisation. He hadn’t though in the end, thinking that it was quite possible that the man behind him
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