Wallpaper 435: The Mist Rolls In

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A Fourth Reminder of Past Works

This excerpt comes from an e-book that was to have been entitled The Island of Doctor Wiel-Barrau; but the publisher didn’t like it. So, with regret, I went with Mutant Island

Those aforementioned footfalls emanated from the soles of sturdy shoes worn by none other than the troubled Daffney De Mauritania…

…who had visited the uppermost level in an attempt to ‘clear her mind’ in the natural sunlight. But now, uncertain once again, she returned to the lower levels…

…where she heard a voice calling her name. Puzzled she raced to the closest area of habitation: the holding cell…

“Excuse me.” She said through the security lattice. “Why did you call my name?”

“Because,” Magnuss replied, “I have searched your heart and peered into your soul; and I know, for a fact, that you are far from happy here. You have been questioning your role here; and for good reason. Your talents are being squandered on the nasty task of torturing poor unfortunate earplugs and suchlike and turning them into freaks and weirdos with big noses and stuff. You have watched as the spirits of  previously happy couples from Lemon Stone – not to mention the two nice boys from across the valley – have been crushed by the mental deprivation wrought upon them by the cruel ministrations of the vile Doctor Wiel-Barrau. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Daffney’s mouth worked ineffectually for several seconds before she stammered: “Bu, bu, but how did you know?”

“Hah.” Hair-Trigger scoffed. “Don’t you know who you have here?”

Daffney shook her head.

“Magnuss Earplug!” Hair-Trigger roared triumphantly.

Daffney re-shook her head, which surprised Hair-Trigger, and quite annoyed her too: she liked being famous by association. “Of the Earplug Brothers, stupid.” She snapped. “The only bona fide saint living today. The most famous hero the Museum of Future Technology has ever – or will ever – know.”

The mention of the museum broke through Daffney’s mantle of ignorance: “The Museum of Future Technology?” She shrieked. “I studied for, and received, my Batchelor of Science in a little café that specialised in really terrible coffee there. It was a fabulous place. I had a wonderful time. But jobs were short on the ground in those days: I went where the work took me – which was this place. And I’ve been here ever since.”

“It’s still wonderful there.” Magnuss said huskily. “How would you like to try again? How would a job in the museum’s Space Science Department appeal?”

Daffney didn’t reply immediately: instead she hit a stud that made the latticework separate – creating a portal…

“Tell me more.” She said, as her face flushed with excitement. “But not right now: Security will have detected my action.”

Daffney was quite correct: Security had detected her action. Or, to be more precise, Slomo Chewings had detected Daffney’s action…

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2017

Junior Earplug Adventures: The Museum Out of Time (Part One)

Prologue

Eighteen months had passed since Buttox Barkingwell had quit her job at the Punting-Modesty munitions facility…

…in the mountain top kingdom of Lemon Stone…

lemonstone in snow copy

 

…before getting lost on the mountainside…

…and stumbling into a subterranean tunnel…

…which led her into the bowels of a version of the Museum of Future Technology…

…that had been torn from the normal flow of space/time by a time storm caused by a fault in the Tunnel Temporal…

…and deposited, at random, beneath the mountain’s perma-ice. Buttox had subsequently summoned young, impressionable, earplugs to assist her as she tried to bring the frozen facility back to life…

But now Buttox wanted to take her task one step further: she wanted to re-instate ‘her’ museum to full capability. She wanted to bring it to complete functionality: to open it to the public: to rival the ‘proper‘ Museum of Future Technology’. And for that she needed help!

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2018

Future Mystery

If you’re wondering where the vast saga of Earplug Adventures is going in the next tale…well here’s a hint…

So now you know as much as I do. I think it was Terry Pratchett who said that the first draft of a book is the author telling him/her self the story. He wasn’t wrong. I’m looking forward to seeing how it pans out.