A Motley Crew

by Wolf Scherman

  "Just like in the library, seven years before, when the old professor told me to open it and open it once more, this morning too I played along. Maybe because it all became too much, or maybe because I needed to know who chose my colleagues this time" She wondered if she should have changed her mind and fought, or just let it be.

  "Was it true that retirement crept up? Without so much as a thank you letter or a farewell dinner?" In that last instant of reality, something deep inside her kick in, and the gears, those old well greased gears, slowly but surely moved again...

  Anne looked to the front of the aeroplane and figured - that again, a crew had been selected as her farewell committee. They were all new to her, and were seated and booked in seats away from each other. Thanks to the kind and early - repeated - warning from the professor, she found the same warning note as years before - tightly wrapped around the ink refill of the smart pen. Anne had ample time and made good use if it while doing research into her farewell committee. They were the last resort. They were capable, fit, and they were in high demand, just like Anne was. Although she wasn't nearly as fit or strong as they were, the many years in the environment she was comfortable in, saw to it that she dominated, and she had made some true and unusual friends. Friends, who would go to the most extreme to make sure that Anne would still be around, in order for 'them' to be around and perform 'their' business and political functions adequately. She felt around in her handbag for the smart silver pen and felt how the cold steel slowly absorbed her heated palm.

  "Suppose I'd never know who the man really was who came to warn me. Yes, he was a philosophy professor, the oldest one in his field. But who was he really? Somewhere someone still had my interests at heart... or was it their own interests...?"

  She looked up from the magazine to the friendly air stewardess pushing the squeaky trolley down the carpeted isle, while serving the peckish passengers rows one after the other, with a bite to eat and a wide well practised smile.

  "I believe this it what you normally have?" After serving Anne her tea the stewardess touched her wrinkled old arm, hidden under the thick black velvety coat she loved wearing over her jacket.

  "Actually yes. Thank you. How did you know?"

  "Captain said so. Our captain is a woman. I suppose we woman have a natural knack for hospitality. Captain Dawn says hi and hope the present was useful..." A pale and surprised Anne returned the smile and winked, as the stewardess continued past to the row of seats behind Anne. Two of whom Anne suspected of being tasked as her farewell committee, stared back at Anne, smiled and faced forward again.

  The warm coffee her new colleagues were served had a particularly relaxed feeling it seemed and the farewell committee battled hard to keep their eyes open.

  "It really is a rejuvenating feeling to know that people would still visit my library when I arrive back from holiday". Anne smiled over at the returning stewardess, and closed her eyes briefly, then opened her eyes and took another magazine and started paging through it.

  "Oh I believe so, for quite some time..." The unusually tall stewardess smilingly remarked, and walked off.

  "Magazines never really had the same feel or value as books". She quietly thought.

  "But this one is just perfect". The inky smell of the pages as she turned them, was almost intoxication, and she glanced at nothing in particular. The morning sun peered through from the east and in its glory announced a brand new golden, but momentarily blinding day. Almost like being born again. Although it blinded the passengers, Anne learnt over time, that it was merely part of life - and she didn't mind. To her, the sunrise was magnificent.

  "It's fine, I'll be right here. Just follow the script on screen, and don't start a conversion..."

  "This one?"

  "Correct. Just like last time, when the phone's picked up, start with your name".

  "John Crimson? Tell me son, is it done? I'm curious..."

  "Yes sir?"

  "How did it go?"

  "Protocol requires only that I make this p... phone-call to you sir. Not supply my real name or a rank or force number, if indeed I had any... sir".

  "We'll talk again I assume?"

  "I would imagine so. Thank you sir".

  "How was that?"

  "Just perfect. Now let's phone the rest. We only have till 2pm tomorrow - if the Gods are on our side... And I still have a crazy morning waiting for me tomorrow.

  Chapter 9 - The Future

  "Hey you two!" I'm not sure if that was polite. Maybe I could have added 'please'.

  "Whose there!? We're full! Get a different class room!" The kids looked up from a knee-high mound of old history homework books that they had been pillaging and lining roughly stapled together blankets from the school sickbay. An old Scout manual on survival had become their most favourite bed-time story book as a candle wore itself down on boring evenings. Not the most attractive of sleeping bags, but practicality tends to outweigh fashion when other kids aren't around. These kept enough cold out to almost sleep right through the night. Filling two pillowcases with crumpled up pages from the math shelves, proved quite a luxurious item compared before they manage to wack the lock clean off the tuck shop's door and found two thick rolls of bubble-wrap. The first month pirating the school tuck shop acted as an awesome distraction away from the cold reality of suddenly having to fend for themselves. They quick enough realised that two handfuls of fudge and and potato crisps washed down with long life milk, was living the high life if you didn't mind it for breakfast. And lunch. And supper. Then one afternoon while climbing out a broken window of the bakery and heading back home, or rather, back to school, they were informed by a colony of rats, that the tuck shop's Holiday-Inn was under new management and the new tenants indeed agreed with the kids on the outranking of a course of sweet meals over vegetables and having to brush teeth. There were literally hundreds, if not thousands of tiny pairs of black eyes eyes which stared up in bewilderment as the brother and sister team rushed in and screeched to a halt, halfway onto the cement floor of the tucks shop. The door had been slammed closed in utter horror, and remained closed since then. It wasn't any of kids' business how long the feasting rodents still had to deplete the well stocked room, or whether that heavy door the kids had slammed hard into its frame, ensured that the rats were eventually forced to dine on one another. That door stayed closed, and that was the end of that. So back to scouting empty shops it was. Surprisingly all outlets but the pharmacy had been raided bare. Only because there were two properly armed policemen placed there and at the petrol station. Eventually when the fuel, candles, cigarettes and a low supply of tinned food, beer and wine were swapped to depletion, the policemen left that too. 'The policemen had collected enough car- and torch batteries and ammunition to keep a tank going for months' - they overheard one of the adults say. The idea was apparently to create a rendezvous point where people could go listen if anything ever came over the radio. As what one was used to see in movies. There was always a loner who came to save the day, or some radio announcement that help was on its way. Not this time however. Someone who needed the two police cars in a hurry had shot the policemen one evening and made off with two police vehicles full of the last groceries. That was about the same time as a generous portion of the town's rat infestation had caravanned through the door the kids accidentally had left ajar - and into the school tuck shop.

  "No you won't find me by looking at those windows. I'm up here" Judging from the dimensions of their home - which before had housed a noisy class during normal hours - I thought the speaker was about eight foot up on the wall in between what has passed as their beds.

  "Where...?" Both frowned at each other, then let their eyes slowly scale the vividly overused blue and yellow watercoloured art and skewly crayoned selfies from months gone by - all neatly stapled onto the seven-meter wide cork board - worried that something or someone had spidermanned up onto the ceiling and sat there quietly, stuck to it all along.

  "It's OK, look up
at the speaker" I really didn't want to frighten them, it's not my style. I figured drawing their attention to the hidden security camera on the opposite side of the room could be left for later. I wonder if the teacher knew someone had secretly been spying on her.

  "Who are you and how can you see us? Can you see us?" It was his sister.

  "If you can keep a secret. But I don't know if I can trust you to tell you" That's the best I could come up with - without scaring the daylights out of them. And yes, Olaf taught me well. Obviously I needed to win them over before I could put them to work.

  "Excuse me? How do 'you' know? How about, we don't know the first thing about you either?" Yes I believe that's what a big sister would do. I liked her instantly and wanted her to like me too. Her age, I guessed, would be a good start. I didn't want to come across as an adult and reward them with false hope, nor as a younger child that they could boss around. After all this was 'my' survival at stake, as much as theirs.

  "OK let's do this, I'll give you both clues to follow, to improve your situation, and safety, and when you're ready, you can help me. Does that sound like something you would be interested in?" I had a few backups, but those were not necessary.

  "OK. What do you want in return, and when? We don't want trouble - I'll have you know?" Her little brother was a future negotiator, I decided it that right there...

  The next day.

  "Sam?"

  "Sam... I know you're there. I know that you're listening. You always are. When they wanted to hibernate you. I kept threw you a life-line..."

  "Sam!!!"

  "No need to shout. And yes I always am listening. I didn't know it was you... I was hoping it wasn't. MOTLEY... What do you want..?"

  "To meet"

  "What!? How?"

  The End