A Captain Scarlet Story

by Sharn

Chapter I

MORE THAN TWELVE kilometres up in the air, suspended above the clouds, a lone figure stared out at the nigh-endless ocean of azure sky. Well aware of the clacks of company coming to join him, the figure let out a heavy sigh, before twisting around.

“There you are. Colonel White wants to speak to us in the control room.” Captain Grey paused, nodding at their organic surroundings as he added, “you’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

Captain Blue shook his flaxen head dismissively. “I was just thinking.”

“You’re allowed to be worried. We all are,” Grey pointed out, coming to stand next to his temporary field partner by the expansive window of the floating base. “It’s not like him to just go AWOL. But you’ve got to remember that he’s tough–tougher than most, to quote you.”

“We don’t know what happened to him,” Blue replied, with a hint of petulance to his husky tone. “Anyway, didn’t you say the colonel wanted to see us? We’d better not keep him waiting.”

Stepping away from the window, Blue decisively ended the conversation.

The lighting in the control room was almost as sunny as the Promenade Deck; the expression on Colonel White’s face was anything but. He glowered impatiently as Blue and Grey hastily tracked over to his desk, where Captains Magenta and Ochre were already seated on several of the hydraulic-operated stools. Seated in his usual position by the communication console, Lieutenant Green was also present.

“Glad to see you could finally make it, gentlemen,” White commented crisply, before relenting. “Alright, at ease. As you all well know, there has been a distinct lack of Mysteron threats in the past few months. I can’t say why, but we must not allow this to make us complacent. The World President has, this morning, informed me that he will be making a routine visit to Cloudbase in a week’s time. The usual procedures will apply, and I shall expect each of you to remain on Cloudbase for the duration of the president’s stay.”

“With all due respect, sir,” Blue spoke up. “Shouldn’t we be focusing our energy on finding Captain Scarlet? There’s no need for the World President to visit us.”

“There is every reason why he should be visiting now,” Colonel White corrected his junior officer. “In fact, he is rather overdue for an in-person review of Cloudbase’s current operations.”

“But, sir, surely you can –”

“I am not in a position to argue against the World President’s wishes and that is that, Captain,” White said firmly. “I will inform you all of your specific duties closer to the president’s visit. Alright, dismissed. Captain Blue, I want you to stay.”

Blue watched as the other captains exited the control room, surreptitiously shooting him knowing glances of commiseration. He shortly turned back around to face Colonel White, reparking himself back onto the stool. Figuring he was going to be hauled over the coals regardless, Blue decided to pre-empt with his own question.

“Has anybody been able to raise the general and Mrs Metcalfe?”

“No, Captain, not yet. However, it is likely that the Metcalfes are still on vacation and are, therefore, unreachable.”

“Surely, with Spectrum’s resources, we’d have been able to locate them by now.”

White shot his junior officer a glare. “You know the facts as well as I do. Five weeks ago, Charles and Mary Metcalfe were to take a fortnight cruise with their son around Greece and Turkey. Once departed, only Captain Scarlet would be personally contactable via radio. On arrival back in Athens, Captain Scarlet was to acquire an SPJ at Athens International Airport and return to Cloudbase, while his parents would continue on a second cruise along the remainder of the Mediterranean Basin.”

“Now, we know from the crew of the Doris that the two older Metcalfes were among the passengers who alighted at the final destination, but that their son was not. We can safely assume that the Metcalfes are aware that Scarlet left early, and that he did so of his own volition; we would almost certainly have heard from them if this wasn’t the case. There is still clearly something they could tell us about Captain Scarlet’s movements. However, as the Metcalfes did not use a travel agent and no-one in Spectrum is aware of the general and Mrs Metcalfe’s itinerary, or the identity of the second liner, we cannot waste our resources on a wild-goose chase. It is not them we are trying to track, after all.”

“What about Paul Blake?” Blue persisted. “Maybe he knows how we can contact his daughter.”

“We have already contacted him, as well as General Metcalfe’s sister. Neither of them have been able to provide much information beyond what Captain Scarlet told you,” White fixed Blue with a shrewd stare. “Now, if I have satisfied all of your questions, Captain Blue, perhaps you will permit me to explain why I asked you to remain.”

“I’m sorry, Colonel,” Blue apologised. “I suppose I am more worried than I’ve realised.”

White’s voice took on a softer tone when he spoke up again.

“I sympathise with your concerns. Captain Scarlet is, after all, your most common partner in the field and a close friend. However, this must not be allowed to interfere with your duties.”

“I understand, sir.”

“You are a good officer, but there are limits to what any one man can do. I have noticed how weary you have become in these last few weeks. If, or when, we do have a Mysteron threat, I want you to be at full capacity. I have spoken with Doctor Fawn and we both agree that you need to take a break: you will spend the next week until the World President’s arrival on furlough, effective immediately.”

Blue’s protest was immediate. “But, Colonel –”

“That is an order, Captain Blue. You are off duty, unless recalled. Dismissed.”

Captain Blue made no detours as he briskly pounded down the escalators on his journey to the lowest storey of the control tower, which housed the officers’ apartments. Inside his own quarters, Blue went directly to the closet and dragged out a large hard shell suitcase, slamming it open onto his bed. The unnecessary force of the action automatically quelled his temper some and resigned him to being more careful.

If Colonel White wanted him gone so badly, then go he would, promptly. Blue had no intention of twiddling his thumbs on Cloudbase, anyway. Not when there was work to be done groundside. Sod the colonel’s wishes; he had no bloody say over the captain’s private life.

Rounding up items, seemingly at random, in preparation for packing, Blue was interrupted by a knock on his door.

“Who is it?”

“I could ask the same thing of you,” a voice responded.

Blue grimaced. “I’m busy, try later.”

“Come on, Adam. I was only joking.”

“Excuse Rick, Adam,” another voice spoke up in a light-Irish accent. “We heard about the colonel putting you on leave. We wanted to check on you and have a talk, if you’re up for it.”

That was fast, Blue thought to himself. Despite his reluctance, he moved to activate the sliding door to allow entrance to his visitors.

“Thanks.” Captain Magenta smiled, hoping to cheer Blue up, but the other man was already re-engrossed in his packing. “How are you doing?”

“Swell,” Blue muttered distractedly, stuffing his organised items into his suitcase and overnight bag.

Magenta exchanged a glance with Captain Ochre, who simply shrugged.

“A lot of help you are, Rick,” Magenta murmured, before trying Blue again. “Where do you think you’ll go?”

“Where do you think?” Blue replied tersely. “Captain Scarlet’s last known position was in Volos. I figure that’s as good a place as any to start.”

“Maybe the colonel was trying to do you a favour,” Ochre suggested. “He must realise you’ll continue to search for Captain Scarlet in your own time.”

When Blue failed to respond, Ochre carried on. “If you don’t mind, Captain Magenta and I would like to help.”

Blue finally turned around and gazed at his fellow captains in interest. “Well, three stand better odds than one. Wouldn’t your presences be missed here, though?”

“No. Actually, the colonel’s granted us both two days’ leave before the World President’s visit,” Magenta explained.

“In that case, you’re more than welcome to come with me.” Blue paused for moment, before adding, “thanks.”

“We want to find him, too, Adam,” Magenta pointed out. From the way he continued to stare at Blue, it seemed as though he had more to say, but was too hesitant to sound it out. Instead, he glanced across imploringly at Ochre, who seemed to be in the same position as Magenta, his eyes darting back and forth in suppressed alarm. Blue shifted his gaze between the two men and waited briefly for a response, but received none.

“Come on; out with it already,” he said, an edge to his husky tone. “What’s going on?”

“Well... do you remember that matchbook that Spectrum ground forces found when they searched the port?” Ochre finally asked. “The one from the Doris’ bar?”

“The one with Morse code scratched onto it? What about it?”

“They had it sent up here because they thought it might have been connected to Captain Scarlet,” Magenta added.

“Thanks, Pat. I did know that,” Blue said in a low voice. “It had his codename on it, after all.”

“They thought it might have been a message from Captain Scarlet, but weren’t sure what it meant,” Ochre reiterated. “It didn’t help us much before, but now – we might have a lead.”

Blue felt his ears perk up and his frustration dissipate upon hearing those words. “Go ahead,” he prompted eagerly.

Ochre still appeared uncertain, but to Blue’s relief, he readily replied. “I think we’re pretty confident the use of code isn’t some joke by Captain Scarlet and that he was taken by someone, or something, probably shortly after he left his parents on the cruise.”

Blue nodded to signal his agreement, as Ochre continued.

“But there are some questions left: why did he only write his name? Why choose to engrave the matchbook when he surely had a biro or pencil handy? And why – how – was the goddamn engraving so small?”

Although he remained silent, Blue considered how the last point made by Ochre had mystified him also, but not nearly enough to justify any kind of logical reasoning. He wondered to what conclusion his compatriots had come...

“I’m thinking he only wrote his codename, as he intended the matchbook itself to be a clue. Remember the cover of the matchbook? Pat and I looked it up and it’s –”

“– The Quarrel of Oberon and Titania by Joseph Noel Paton,” Blue finished impatiently. “Scarlet and I saw it recently at the National during our ground leave in Scotland.”

“Did he make any comment about it?” Ochre asked curiously, throwing a conspiratorial glance at Magenta.

“Only to reference his parents’ upcoming trip to Greece and share his admiration of Titania’s... feminine faerie beauty.” Blue glared across at the other two captains. “Will you kindly get to the point, Richard?”

Ochre nodded his head apologetically. “This is going to sound a little far-fetched, but it does tick all the boxes. I – well Magenta and I – believe the reason Scarlet wrote so small and didn’t use ink was because that’s all he could do.”

“You think he was miniaturised and abducted, by what, faeries?” Blue scoffed.

Magenta winced, but Ochre simply nodded. “You got it in one, blue-boy.”

“You were right when you said that it sounds far-fetched. Do you honestly expect me to swallow that? There are no such things as faeries. It’s just too fantastic.”

“As fantastic as indestructible Martians or vast underwater civilisations?” Ochre retorted.

“Not without proof!” Blue replied hotly, sounding on the verge of losing his voice. “Do you think this is a joke?”

“Of course not,” Magenta quickly interjected.

“We know it sounds crazy; we had difficulty taking it seriously to start with,” Ochre said.

“We still do,” Magenta added.

“It’s a theory, Adam. As unlikely as it may be, some of the facts before us are unlikely. Captain Ochre frowned and shook his head. “I wish I had a better explanation, believe me. Aside from the Mysterons throwing us a new curve ball, and that still leaves us nowhere.”

Captain Blue forced a shrug from his shoulders. “Alright. Suppose he was... kidnapped by faeries. I don’t see that makes any difference to my plans. If you want to join me, than be ready in an hour. I am leaving for Greece today and nothing is going to change that.”

Chapter II

IT TOOK JUST under an hour and a half to fly from Tórshavn to Athens. After bidding the quietly-grateful Rhapsody Angel goodbye, the group hired a rental car at the airport and drove out to Volos, Magnesia the same night. The three-and-a-half-hour journey was largely silent, as the two older men were aware that their friend was not in a solicitous mood toward them.

Captain Blue had been lucky to find accommodation at such short notice, but the three captains were still forced to share a room. It didn’t bother them much, as they were all bone tired, promptly dosing off seemingly as soon as their heads hit the pillow.

Blue did not manage to stay asleep for long, however, awaking several hours later. Even though it was still dark outside, he felt too restless to try and go back off. Instead, he quietly got dressed and headed out for a run to clear his head. His circuit took him past the wharf where the Doris had been moored. Jogging up to the bollards, Blue produced a torch from his pocket. He didn’t expect to find anything, especially after three weeks, but while he was here he thought that he might as well have a nose around. Swinging his torch in an arc to check for passersby, Blue began a meticulous inspection through the wharf. Satisfied the grounds lacked evidence, Blue had one last place he wanted to examine before returning to the hotel; the bollard next to where the matchbook was found.

Checking over each of them in turn, Blue did finally notice something at the base of one of them. Wishing he had a magnifying glass handy, he nevertheless just made out the etched phrase in Morse code: go to Pelion.

He had to admit that the position and size of the etching was confounding, even if Scarlet wanted to be discreet. However, it didn’t mean he’d been miniaturised and nabbed by faeries, as Ochre seemed so inclined to think.

He snapped several photos of the inscription with his pocket camera, before leaving the wharf. It was approaching twilight, and he didn’t fancy being questioned about his presence there at this time of the morning. Anyway, he was keen to get back and develop the photographs on his portable computer. After he’d done that, he would wake up his fellow captains and see that they headed off into Mount Pelion pronto...

“‘Go to Pelion’,” Captain Magenta read out later in the back seat of the rental car, examining the blown-up photographs Blue had printed. He looked up at the back of Blue’s head and frowned. “Did you consider this might be some kind of trap?”

“Yes. Why do you think I insisted we brought a detector?”

“You mean smuggled it?” Ochre sniggered, patting the backpack on the empty seat to his right.

Blue glared at him in the rear-view mirror. “As well as our new Spectrum-issue pistols. They may be in the trial phase, but I’m just itching to get a chance to try them out on a Mysteron.”

“Hell, you made us wear our uniforms and all,” Ochre commented, grimacing slightly as he glanced down at himself. “And that’s if the Mysterons are involved.”

“Would you quit harping on about that?” Blue snapped. “Richard, he was not kidnapped by faeries.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Ochre said reasonably, he glanced out the window at the hilly road. “The mountain is known for its centaurs and nymphs, not for the good folk. But something strange is going on, Adam. Something that we don’t understand.”

“Right,” Magenta interjected, before Blue could speak. “But we will find out – and find Paul.” Looking straight ahead at the driver’s seat, he added, “we’ve got a pretty-big area to cover. Do you think we should split up, Adam?”

“I would,” Blue said with his characteristic sigh. “But this is Captain Ochre’s specialty. I’ll defer to your invaluable experience, Rick.”

“You’re beginning to sound more and more like Paul,” Ochre said with mock offence. “Before you know it, you’ll be drinking tea and eating scones with the Prime Minister!”

Blue gave a thin smile, which Ochre returned in the form of a grin.

“I wasn’t being facetious, actually,” Blue commented, his smile disappearing.

“Sure, whatever you say,” Ochre said flippantly, before his tone turned serious. “In the Spectrum Police report, I noted that they already searched the mountain’s twenty four villages. That will alleviate our burden somewhat, but it is still going to take us a long time. Without more of a lead, we’ll have to strategise. I’d suggest starting with the least populated parts of the peninsula. That means staying away from hiking trails, roads, et cetera.” He looked at Magenta. “You’ve got the map, Pat. How much area would that leave us each to cover?”

Magenta slid the photos back into the binder and flipped the pages to the copies of the maps and information sheets he had printed from Blue’s computer. “Here we go.”

He studied the papers for a moment, scratching his head. “From my understanding, Pelion fully incorporates eleven municipal units, as well as parts of another three. That’s two full, and two part, municipalities of Magnesia’s total of five. Pelion is not just located in Eastern Magnesia; it looks like it is Eastern Magnesia.”

“Say what?” Ochre asked, confused.

“The geographical boundaries of Pelion form roughly half of the regional unit of Magnesia, or 1184 km². I’m afraid I can’t be more specific than that; the two different maps are crammed with settlement names and pictorials, but not any detail.”

Ochre shrugged. “We’ll just have to divide and conquer as we go. How much area does that figure give us?”

“About 395 km²,” Blue responded.

“Well,” Ochre said, drawing in a deep breath. “As I said, we’ll have to be strategic if we want to cover that in the next two days...” His voice trailed off when he saw the markings of a village shop. “Hey, Adam, pull across a minute, will you?”

“Why?”

“I just need to get some supplies. I won’t be long,” Ochre promised.

“Very well.” Blue heaved a sigh. “In that case, I’m going to raid that cafe if they’re open. I think I’m gonna need the coffee.”

Balancing two trays of hot coffee, Blue was grateful when Magenta popped out to lend him a hand. He was even more glad to see that Ochre was already back.

“Thanks,” Blue said as he buckled his belt, before accepting the trays back. “I got a couple extra for you guys. Here, take it while it’s ho– what on Earth?”

Lying across Ochre’s lap was an unopened package of dolly pegs, as well as three pads of coloured sticky notes and a box of zip-lock sandwich bags. Instead of answering, Ochre simply grinned and reached out to accept his coffee.

“Don’t even try, Adam,” Magenta advised, taking his own cup. “He’s doubled down.”

“I can see that,” Blue commented simply, before pulling out of the parking space to resume their journey.

Driving further toward the heart of the mountain range, the three Spectrum officers pulled up at the village of Agios Lavrentios to split up on foot. By the end of the day, they had together scanned through nine of the fourteen municipal units, comprising the northern-most third of the range; they were without any success. With nothing more they could do for the day, the group settled down for the evening in the picturesque, cobbled village and determined that the next day would be different.

Blue’s insomnia did not improve and he was again awake well before dawn. Sitting up in bed, he ran his hands over his face and hair in tired frustration. All he wanted was to sleep, but the knot tying up his stomach had only intensified since arriving in Greece. Unconsciously, he glared across at the overnight bag he knew contained the pack of benzos prescribed by Dr Fawn; a lot of good they’d done him. Scrubbing his face with his hand again with a sigh, he resignedly tossed aside the quilt and went into the bathroom, stopping at his bag to grab two tablets of paracetamol. Downing them with a handful of water from the sink, Blue switched on the hot tap and savoured the feeling of the warm water splashing up against his face. The sensation was like something lost and found, although it had only been a few hours since he’d showered.

Paul, what happened to you?

He didn’t believe Ochre’s flight of fancy could be true, but he was right about the intangible circumstances. If Scarlet’s renown was for his remarkable powers of recovery, Captain Blue’s was for his nigh-eternal patience. There was a great deal he was willing to take, but one thing he hated was being in the dark. Not for the unknown itself, but for the sense of helplessness and inaction it brought. He had been overcome by it before and vowed never to let it again, but the irregularity of this situation, and Scarlet’s status, was troubling him deeply.

Captain Scarlet was Blue’s best friend, but he had also been dragged irrevocably into the mess the Zero-X crew had unwittingly sparked by setting foot on Mars. He had become an unreality, fantastically blessed and cursed, and those contradictions spread out subtly like alien oil into every crevice of his life and relationships. Knowing the distant reception Scarlet had received after he had revived from the dead in front of his father a year ago, Blue wondered what had kept him from throwing in the towel himself, when his friend had become a beacon of anxiety, death and the uncanny.

Blue didn’t feel like getting ready so, after he dried himself off, he perched at the small table and quietly booted up his computer to do some more research. After an hour, Blue was having difficulty concentrating. Shutting the lid of the computer, Blue propped his chin onto his hand and closed his eyes for a few minutes’ rest. The next thing Blue knew, somebody was shaking him by the shoulder.

“Adam, wake up!” the excited voice of Captain Magenta urged.

“W-what’s going on?” Blue shifted his head up off his hand and computer, grimacing at the crick in his neck that he must have gotten from the awkward angle. “Has something happened?”

“Stavros!” Magenta declared triumphantly, beaming.

“‘Stavros’?” Blue asked, confused, unconsciously wriggling his numb hands to restore blood flow.

“That’s what was written on the bollard, Adam.”

Blue squinted across at Ochre in the dim light of the bedside lamp, incidentally noticing that the digital clock indicated that he had slept for just over an hour.

“You mean the one I photographed?” Blue shook his head. “I didn’t see any other text and I’m confident I didn’t mistranslate the phrase.”

“There was another inscription in Morse, only this one was almost level with the ground. Something was bothering me about the photos yesterday, but I couldn’t pin it down. When I woke up and looked at them again, I finally saw it,” Ochre explained. “I can’t interpret Morse code, so I woke Magenta up.”

“I’m glad you did,” Magenta said to his field partner, before turning back to Blue. “Pourianos Stavros, the tallest summit of Mount Pelion. That has to be what Captain Scarlet was referring to. We’ve got a lead, Adam!”

“Thanks to you and Captain Ochre,” Blue noted, nodding his head in appreciation. “Thanks.”

“Well, if you didn’t have the foresight to investigate the area, we wouldn’t have gotten anywhere,” Magenta pointed out.

“It’s a better lead, but it’s still going to be a trial – and we’re running out of time,” Ochre said. “I think we should aim to be there by first light, before the morning set of hikers hit the trails.”

“Alright,” Blue said with a tired sigh and a firm nod. “I’ll confirm the course against our map and load up the equipment into the car –”

“Adam...”

“– In the meantime, why don’t you two get some more sleep? I’ll wake you when we need to leave,” Blue continued, ignoring Magenta’s admonition.

Magenta relented, mirroring Blue’s earlier sigh. “SIG, Captain. Let’s hope we have better luck today.”

The faint rustling of leaves fluttering was the only sign of the soft breeze that blew over the mountain forest. The first streams of golden sunlight peeked down across the autumnal landscape, as the trio wordlessly parted ways from the grizzled asphalt to become lost among a sea of copper and gold foliage. Using the summit as the epicentre, Captain Blue had mapped out concentric radii of ground areas for each officer to cover. Pourianos Stavros’ precise location within restricted Air Force space made it unlikely that a Spectrum agent would be held captive there; though he wasn’t going to dismiss the notion that the HAF could be involved altogether, Blue wasn’t prepared to trample on SHEF’s territory without very good reason.

By midday, Blue was well into his inspection when his epaulettes flashed pink. Dropping the microphone down, Blue accepted his colleague’s call. “Have you found something, Captain Magenta?”

It was hard to tell from the tinny acoustics, but Magenta’s voice seemed to be laced with bewilderment. “Yes... it’s probably best that you come look for yourself. I don’t think I could begin to explain it...”

“Alright. Give me your reference and then inform Captain Ochre of the development. I’ll be right up...”

Blue stared at the scene before him in bemusement, though likely not for the same reasons as Magenta was earlier: three wooden pegs had been projected upside down into the earth in a triangular configuration, with each holding an annotated yellow or magenta sticky note. Beneath two of the pegs, small mounds of partially-buried fabric scraps were just visible. Magenta was currently taking photographs, so it was Ochre who greeted Blue.

“Adam, I want to assure you that this is not a prank,” he said sombrely. “Brace yourself. This is just getting weirder...”

“Show me,” Blue said with a nod, following Ochre to an unearthed mound. “Interesting markers, by the way. So that’s why you insisted I carry around a bunch of clothespins.”

“I wasn’t going to find evidence markers at a local grocer,” Ochre replied with a wry smile. His expression became serious again, and he knelt down to pick up something from beside the mound. Straightening up, Ochre held the red item out for Blue to see. “Recognise this?”

“A doll’s coat?” Blue said dubiously. “Wait a minute. That looks just like –”

“– Captain Scarlet’s tunic?” Ochre finished. He scrunched the two-centimetre garment up to highlight the miniscule ellipses that remarkably resembled the gold epaulettes adorned by senior Spectrum personnel.

“Pat found it buried by this beech. I don’t think it got shrunk in the wash,” Ochre intoned.

Blue first stared at the vest, then at Ochre. “Captain Scarlet somehow knew he would end up here,” he said slowly. “He’s been leaving us a breadcrumb trail... to where?” He swung his head around and pointed at the pegs. “Notice something? The markers form an arrow.”

Ochre looked down and nodded his head. “Yeah, they do, actually. I guess we’re meant to go that way.”

“There’s something else.” Blue walked up to each of the make-shift markers in turn, silently counting to himself. “They’re arranged in an Isosceles triangle, a perfect ‘V’ if you will. Two sides of the imaginary triangle are equidistant at just over three feet. I’m sure you two have already combed that far. So... the size of the tunic suggests that Scarlet would currently be about... ten times shorter than that length...”

“What are you on about?” Ochre asked, creasing his brows in bamboozlement.

Magenta, listening nearby, seemed to tentatively pick up Blue’s thread. “So we want to go ten times Scarlet’s regular height in the arrow’s direction, about sixty feet?”

Blue rubbed his chin. “I don’t know... I’m pretty tired,” he admitted. “I’m sure I’m grasping at some very-thin straws.”

“Well, we’ll be heading in that direction, anyway,” Magenta pointed out. He nodded at the markers and the now-uncovered items of tiny clothing. “I’ve finished shooting. Shall I bag the evidence to take with us?”

“Yeah and the notes, but we’ll leave the clothespins for future reference,” Ochre said with the shake of his head. “We’d better get a move on before we all lose our heads.”

Sixty feet took the captains to a rocky stream. Idly kicking at one of the stones with his foot, Ochre commented. “Well here we are. It’s sure pretty, isn’t – hey, what the!”

A rumbling sensation, reminiscent of a minor earthquake, suddenly emanated around the three officers. The world above them seemed to oscillate and grow gradually distant, as if the ground had opened to swallow them. They kept moving further and further down, until the shaking finally subsided after a full ten seconds.

“Oh my god...!” Ochre breathed.

Blue swallowed hard, feeling a wave of trepidation wash over him, as he stared up at the magnified landscape. If this was even half of the anxiety people with agoraphobia had experienced, they very much had his sympathy.

“Uh, guys?” Magenta said quietly. “We’ve got company.”

Blue tore his gaze away from the boulder-sized stone that Ochre had only just kicked, to where Magenta was looking warily. A lone figure in a hood was peeking out from behind one of the giant trees. Seeing that they had been spotted, the figure’s eyes widened and they turned, hurriedly beckoning to someone – or someones – behind them. Soon, a small crowd of cloaked-and-hooded humanoids had gathered a foot from the Spectrum captains.

“Ποιος είσαι?” one of them asked, pulling back his hood, with the others following suit in unison.

“Uh, μιλάμε αγγλικά,” Magenta explained awkwardly. “We speak English.”

“Who are you?” the being repeated.

“You don’t recognise us?” Blue asked, slowly reaching down for his sidearm. “I gather that you’re Mysterons.”

“‘Mysterons’?” the being scoffed, clearly offended. “Where amongst these lands have you been residing? We are the Neráides, man of the sky’s blue.”

“I don’t believe it!” Ochre exclaimed. “Captain Scarlet really was taken by faeries!”

The burly man’s face went as red as a beetroot. Quicker than any of them could react, he leapt at Ochre and twisted his arms up behind his back with a single hand.

“Hey, get off of me!” Ochre snapped angrily.

“Το Φάσμα!” the man muttered, as he tightened his grip on Ochre. He produced a large hunting knife from under his cloak and held it close to Ochre’s side. “Come you may have, but you will not lay a hand on our liege!”

“What are you on about?” Ochre exploded. “I said let me go!”

The faerie ignored him, as several others made a grab to restrain Blue and Magenta. Blue dodged to the side and used the newfound proximity to launch a swift knifehand jab at his assailant; however, the nimble faerie managed to duck under the blow at the last second. Magenta’s aggressor, meanwhile, had similarly ducked under his punch and now somersaulted directly into Magenta’s legs, bowling him over.

Blue saw that he was the last one standing and quickly grabbed his pistol. However, before he could aim it, his assailant kicked out and sent him to knees; the pistol was dislodged from his grasp and went clattering into the stream. Blue scrambled to his feet before he could be struck again and prepared to engage with his quarry again.

“Stop! Stop this at once!”

The sound of the commanding voice seemed to halt the creatures in their tracks. Blue whirled around and watched as a hooded figure, taller than the rest, made their way through the throng. The others seemed to instinctively part in apparent reverence, as the figure walked right up to Blue.

The figure tilted their head back slightly, allowing sunlight to cascade across their face, revealing shining azure irises.

“Captain Scarlet!”

“Hello, Adam,” the words were spoken with the hint of a smile. Placing his hands onto Blue’s shoulders, Captain Scarlet addressed the crowd around them.

“These are my friends. Please, they were responding only in defence. They will mean you no harm now.”

Blue looked across at Ochre and Magenta as the men waited for the creatures’ response. Finally, one of the newcomers accompanying Scarlet’s appearance shifted forward to speak up, directly to Scarlet. Although his words held the same deference that the crowd had shown before, his tone held an accusation of suspicion.

“If they are your friends, my liege, then are they, perhaps, here to take you back to whence you came?”

Scarlet stole a telling glance at Blue, before facing the expectant faerie.

“I did warn that they would come searching for me,” he replied carefully. “However, they will equally respect my decision to stay, should I insist...”

“What?!” Ochre spurted.

“Do not interrupt Kokkino, yellow canary!” The burly faerie holding Ochre snapped, prodding him warningly with the handle of his knife.

“Silence,” the first faerie commanded coolly, before again turning to Scarlet. “Then we, respectfully, request of your insistence, my liege.”

Scarlet’s countenance shifted to stone, visible only to Blue and the spokesman, who seemed to flinch ever so perceptibly. Tipping his chin up defiantly, Scarlet gave his answer.

“Very well. Captains Ochre, Magenta and Blue, I am compelled to stay here and help the Neráides. I will not leave, and no attempts of persuasion will alter my mind. Are we in understanding?”

Blue was left raw and dumbfounded by Scarlet’s vehemence and his decision; that was until the younger man unexpectedly twisted his head around and shot Blue a pleading look. All was not as it seemed.

“Yes, Captain Scarlet,” Blue replied with as much grace as he could muster, to divert from the worry he was afraid was being betrayed by his dry mouth. “We are.”

“Are you –”

“We are,” Magenta echoed, as Blue pointedly glared across at Ochre, stifling his protests.

“Yeah, we are.” Ochre finally lent his agreement, albeit reluctantly. He wondered just what Blue and Scarlet were up to.

“It is as I said. You have nothing to fear from their presence here, Aegean.”

Satisfied, the faerie nodded his head, before bowing before Scarlet. “We thank you for your continued loyalty, my liege.”

When he came back up, he nodded at the creatures holding Ochre and Magenta. “Release them, my men. From now, they are to be considered our friends.”

“Hey, Paul. Long time no see,” Magenta said softly, as he and Ochre regrouped with their colleagues. “Are you okay?”

Scarlet started to open his mouth to reply, only to change his mind. His eyes shifted from Magenta, as the faerie spokesman approached the captains.

“Men of many colours, I am Aegean, Prince of the Neráides. I bid you welcome to the Principality of Xanthousia.” Turning to the throng, Aegean added, “as guests of our liege and saviour Kokkino, we shall throw a magnificent feast tonight in their honour!”

The crowd erupted in cheers. Smiling, Aegean looked back at the captains. “My aide, Athan, will give you a tour and show you to your quarters. Kokkino, my liege, I must ask to speak to you urgently.”

Aegean gripped Scarlet’s shoulder, in a coaxing gesture designed to separate him from Captain Blue. Scarlet removed his hands from Blue, only for Blue to place a protective hand onto Scarlet’s shoulder. His instincts told him not to trust this faerie prince, no matter how genial he seemed. However, Scarlet released himself.

“I will see you later, Captains.” Scarlet nodded at Blue. “Vi ses, Adam.”

Without a backward glance, Scarlet disappeared into the forest, flanked by Aegean and his entourage.

Magenta blinked in surprise, as Ochre let out a muttered profanity. Blue simply stared after Scarlet, only drawing his attention away when the young faerie, who had been peeping from behind the tree earlier, approached him.

“Hello. I am Athan, the prince’s aide. If you follow me, I’ll show you to your quarters.”

Looking between his two friends, Ochre sighed. “Yeah, sure. That’d be great...”

Chapter III

THE CAPTAINS’ QUARTERS consisted of a simple hut, comprised of stone masonry, open windows and a moss-laden roof. It was clearly intended as a guest house: two unmade bunk beds occupied the split-level loft, while the ground floor was dominated by the long bench table and seats. The only articles were the series of pans and cooking utensils hanging up near the primordial fireplace.

“You must be famished after your erstwhile journey,” Athan spoke up, after presenting the captains their temporary accommodation. “I will arrange for some refreshments to be brought and for the beds to be prepared with clean sheets. We have lost yield in these years close gone, but although plain, our meals are filling.” He blinked up distractedly at them for a moment, his short brown ringlets falling just short of his eyes, apparently sizing them up. “I will also ask our dressmaker, Iris, to provide you with some, uh, more suitable clothing. Once you have eaten, I will give you a tour of the principality. That should give you just enough time to prepare for the banquet this evening.”

“Thanks, but we’d rather see our friend,” Blue said with as much courtesy that he felt he could muster, coming to stand directly in front of Athan. “If you could direct us to where he is staying... ?”

Athan looked up the half a metre to Blue’s face, trepidation written across his face. “That... that will require the prince’s approval. I can ask him, if you please...”

“Yes, that would be very helpful, thank you,” Magenta interjected. He put a hand on his comrade’s shoulder and gave him a look that told him he should back off.

Athan quickly nodded his head. “Alright, if there is nothing else, I will see to your arrangements.”

The young faerie practically flew out the door when Captain Blue reluctantly gave his assent, leaving him to reflect on the irony of that particular figure of speech. Despite his young appearance, Athan was obviously efficient; the captains were barely granted any time to themselves when a small horde of faeries rocked up, alternatively carrying bedding or measuring tapes. The tailors turned out to be tough-looking women who looked as though they could make Colonel White cower in submission. Their swift ‘frisks’ didn’t take long and were followed by another group brandishing platters of bread and casserole. Most of the food had been devoured, when Athan reappeared to lead the captains on the promised tour.

For all appearances, Xanthousia was a self-contained community that had been plucked from millennia ago. The homes varied in size and composition, but almost all were straightforward in design. To Blue, it was eerily like moving through life-sized blocks of mounded fairy gardens, especially since many of the low-lying flowers and leaves were large enough to engulf him. The major communal facilities were loosely clustered together as a tiny agora. There were workshops, an amphitheatre where entertainment was held and a library hosting a towering town clock. Along with the prince’s court, the largest complex was the Bathhouse, the major hub of ‘relaxation and recreation’ as referenced by Athan.

“The Bathhouse is equipped to cater to every resident of Xanthousia,” Athan explained. “We constructed aqueducts to carry water from the Hot Gates; but, alas, Time ran her course and the water was left chilled. It is sufficient for general bathing, but many find the heat of a warm bath therapeutic. Thus, you see that we have boilers adjacent to the storage tank and rainwater cistern where the attendants boil the water for mixing and rinsing.”

“Do you have personal showers... or running water?” Ochre asked, looking a little dismayed.

Athan looked puzzled. “Individual domiciles have filtered water pumps for laundry and drinking purposes, of course,” he answered slowly. “Otherwise the Bathhouse has dedicated basins for athletes, children or those who find themselves soiled.”

“So individual, uh, domiciles don’t have a washroom?”

“Oh, I see.” Athan’s expression cleared in understanding. “No, only the prince. Our liege was offered one in the construction of his domicile, but he declined, as a gesture of his humility to our people.”

Ochre fought not to roll his eyes at the uncharacteristic description of Scarlet.

Athan returned to his narration. “Apart from the baths and the boiler room, the Bathhouse also possesses antechambers for changing. Then there is, of course, the crypt in the basement level.”

“Crypt?”

Athan looked at Blue, who had so far remained silent during the tour. “It is a tradition in our culture that the dead are buried within the groundwater of the Earth, so that their psyche may be cleansed in preparation for remembrance in the underworld. However, entry into Elysium is only granted to the most noble and virtuous of Neráids – a dual judgement carried out by both the gods and our fellow kin. To ensure their rightful passage, the remains must be blessed in a bath of pure seawater within the crypt, before being laid to rest in the Sea himself.”

“You mean like a funeral,” Ochre summarised.

“A man may be beloved by the gods and have the wealth of all the lands, but his final judgement rests in his treatment of his fellow mortals,” a voice behind them announced. Aegean raised a hand in greeting to the colourful group, before he nodded his head. “My aide explained it very well. I trust you have been taken care of well?”

“Yes, we have,” Blue answered, with a brief – but honest – smile at Athan; the young man gave a slight nod in thanks. No point in punishing the boy for things that are nothing of his doing.

“Very good. Athan, if you could see to it that all the arrangements for this night’s banquet are in order, I will take our guests to see our liege.”

“Yes, sir,” Athan said with a quick bow, before he left on his errand.

Aegean turned back to the Spectrum captains. “If you will follow me, I will escort you to our liege’s quarters.”

Captain Scarlet’s quarters turned out to be a glorified hollow at the base of a gnarly, old olive tree. A cluster of twigs formed a fenced-in front garden, with several longer ones serving as an archway to a path of tawny woodchips. The drooping foliage of the evergreen heavily shaded the garden, making the string of twinkle lights around the front entrance necessary even in the still-shining sun of the early evening. Aegean took lead of the group, moving briskly down the path and firmly rapping upon the door.

“My liege, it is I, Aegean. May we be granted entrance?”

“Give me a minute,” a clipped voice practically snapped in response.

When the door was opened, Scarlet had a scowl on his face. His expression cleared when he saw his colleagues.

“Hullo. I didn’t expect to see you three,” he commented cordially. “Come in.”

Without the obstruction of the hood, Scarlet’s ivory complexion was clearly visible. It seemed to suggest a long term lack of sunlight exposure, appearing almost ghostly against the prominent lustre of his sable hair. A cord was tightly woven to his fringe, drawing it back from his face; circling around behind his nape, the dark material was secured out of view to the opposite side of his head, loosely bounding the rest of his hair. The removal of the russet cloak also enabled a view of the articles underneath: a deep goldenrod bliaut was prominent, falling down to his knees over a pair of hose. His crude boots were held firmly to his calves by a series of string ties; protruding from a hidden pocket of his left boot, was the handle of a small blade. Above, the hand-stitched hose was interrupted by a leather strap midway up his left thigh. From it, a larger hunting knife was only partially visible under the long slit of his bliaut. The belt wound around his waist was also connected to a bounded-leather sheath on his right hip. Clearly designed for a longer blade or sword, it was currently empty.

“Welcome to my ‘shop top’,” Scarlet said dryly, spreading his arms out in grandiose exaggeration. “My lodgings and workshop all rolled into one.”

“‘Workshop’?” Magenta echoed curiously, joining Ochre in examining the contents of the hollow.

“I didn’t know you knew how to craft weapons,” Ochre commented with a note of admiration to his tone, as he handled a partially-constructed arrow. “Did you make this from scratch?”

Scarlet gave a side glance toward Aegean, who was silently observing the scene before him. “Yes,” Scarlet answered slowly. “Aegean, was there something you required of me?”

“Thank you, my liege. I am simply escorting your friends, as it was their wish to see you.”

“That was good of you.” Scarlet tipped his head to the side pointedly. “Mind if we have a few minutes of privacy to catch up?”

“With respect, that would be unwise, my liege. I am aware how short reunions often blossom into something much longer, and there is little time before the banquet will begin. We do not want to be late.”

Scarlet tilted his head back, doubt written across his face, but he didn’t protest. Turning back to face his friends, he shook his head. “Look, thanks for coming, but maybe you should get ready. I want to make sure we catch up properly, after all.”

“Fine, Paulie,” Ochre said with a slight scowl. He’d caught Scarlet’s wariness of the pixie prince, but he still felt slighted at the perceived rejection of their efforts. “Remember, I have a lot of questions.”

Scarlet shifted his gaze briefly in Ochre’s direction, before fixing it on Blue. Clearly, there was some kind of wordless messages being projected, but it was not something to which the rest of the group were privy.

After a few moments of stagnation, Aegean cleared his throat and nodded at the assembled friends. “Men of many colours, shall we depart?”

Blue shot a final worried look at Scarlet, before following after the others.

The honour banquet later that night was held in the amphitheatre adjacent to the Royal Court. The prince’s residence was visible over the wall of the outer courtyard, the mushroom-shaped tower of timber a far cry from the sprawling palaces of human monarchs. Around the inside perimeter of the amphitheatre, a series of rustic tables had been arranged in an angular U-shape. Athan ushered the captains to be seated along one side of the head table, before settling himself down beside them on the end stool. The two central stools to the right of Captain Blue were currently empty, while the opposite end was occupied by the members of Aegean’s earlier entourage; Blue could easily guess the identities of those missing from the table.

In short order, they arrived together.

Looking at the sea of faces in the amphitheatre, Blue observed general trends among the Neráides. The males kept their hair short and their faces clean shaven. In contrast, the females wore their hair long and tidy, with a number of them opting to wear them in braids. Floral blooms adorned the hair of both sexes, with every texture from straight to coily on display. The vast majority of them also possessed dark hair; indeed, he caught some of them staring at his crown, as though a pure blond was a genetic impossibility.

Aegean was an exception, with sun-bleached Venetian hair and a full beard of ginger. His long waves curtained his rosy skin like an untamed lion’s mane, framing an astute pair of golden-brown orbs. Beneath the piercing stare, a bridge of heavy freckles crossed Aegean’s snub nose, offering a comedy contrast that proved nature cared little for her creatures’ self-aggrandising fancies. He was tall for a Neráid, though he was still dwarfed by his hybrid companion.

Gone was the drab bliaut, replaced by a garment of rich madder silk embroidered with gilded yarn. The draping sleeves were exaggerated, flowing down like a molten waterfall amongst winking stars. Underneath, the kobicha hose and boots were still visible. For all its splendour, it was still basic enough to remain subdued – not entirely unlike the man wearing it.

Captain Scarlet cast a nod of acknowledgment at his fellow captains, before taking a seat immediately to Aegean’s right. Aegean reflected the gesture to his entourage, before turning to his assembled denizens.

“My people!” he crowed, raising his arms above him. “Tonight we have the honour of being joined by the Fásma, friends of our liege Kokkino.”

An incredulous look passed over Ochre’s expressive face, as he swung his head between the men between him. Blue turned his head toward Scarlet, but he had apparently taken no notice of his fellow captains’ bemusement.

“To show them our welcome, I have organised for only our finest of entertainment and company. Now let us indulge!”

The clapping subsisted until a single musician took her place in the make-shift arena. The sharp reverberation of her psaltery sounded somewhere between a harmonica and a strangled violin, droning out a melancholic air that somehow managed to both grate and bore the guests of honour. The mischievous entrance of a mime marked the end of her performance, whose rapid-fire comedic timing was a genuine treat to watch. The next act was subjected to a short delay to allow passage for the attendants to bring out the food and drinks. The smell was enticing, but Blue wasn’t feeling particularly hungry. Guessing that his refusal to eat the preparations would be taken as an insult, Blue allowed an attendant to load up his plate.

Gradually making his way through his meal, his fruitless observation of Scarlet was interrupted by the startling introduction of a short play and Blue soon found his interest piqued. Its fall setting was apropos for a Halloween story, but the content was more Shakespearean than spooky, not that Blue minded. He was more consummate in opera, but he appreciated the raw value of folk theatre. He guessed that this particular play had likely been repeated by the Neráides on numerous occasions, judging by the script-less performances at the otherwise impromptu feast. He particularly enjoyed the impassioned performance of the play’s only song, despite its stilted lyrics:

Widower, weep for me.

For the tears the boy will forever shed,

Are but the sap from a sad cypress, eternally wounded.

T’was Apollo’s gift that caused grief,

A choice so fraught it contradicts.

Now he has been left bereft,

His love locked in sorrow deep.

Oh how bitterness must quell,

Any goodwill in the soul.

When the slight received is to him a mountain tallest,

But nought in the mind of a mere man, much less a martyr...

Subject-wise, the play appeared to concern the origins of a conflict between the Neráides and a neighbouring group called the Nerites, resulting from the feud of their respective patron gods, Aphrodite and Apollo. The story went that Apollo, hardened by the loss of his love Cyparissus, became enraged at some unspecified offence committed against him by Aphrodite. In retaliation, he sent a wild boar to kill Adonis, Aphrodite’s lover, breaking her heart. Ever since that day, the two groups have been warring, with the Neráides fiercely defending their land and honour. Blue wasn’t sure how much of the plot was worth its salt, but it was still useful to understand more about the history of the Neráides and their perceptions. When the finale came in the form of a visual poem ‘Precious Time’, Blue found his previous interest begin to turn to brooding recognition.

We bask in your favour

O liege and saviour

Hitherto on a wing and a prayer

Fighting for hope to see us done fair

On waves we saw you sweep by

Tall of grace, crown touching the sky

Cloaked in a tint so feared

Our blossom born o’ blood and tears

To wit you came

With owt, you made claim

To defend a stranger with glory

Ready to hear ’bout our story

We bask in your favour

O liege and saviour

Betwixt bow and hand

Wealth greater than land

Your teachings we take

Igniting passions to wake

Each day we pray

That your aid will ne’er stray

Forever let your guidance purge –

Through your skill and strategy our name shall surge!

We bask in your favour

O liege and saviour Kokkino

For you, we hold dear

Our path is now clear

We owe to you this rhyme

Pray give us Precious Time

“Paul’s a prophet to these people?” Ochre murmured to Blue. “No wonder he doesn’t want to leave.”

Blue irately ignored him, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Ochre had a point. Maybe Scarlet wasn’t in trouble, as it had seemed earlier. Perhaps there was another reason behind his decision. In any case, Blue wasn’t convinced that Scarlet was here entirely of his own volition. Blue just wished he could get a moment alone to talk to him.

At the play’s ambiguous end, the actors bowed to the chorus of cheers and excused themselves from the arena. Several faeries came forward in their wake and approached Scarlet, removing the cord from his hair and replacing it with a wreath of roses, each a deep to vivid red in one. When they backed away, the flush on Scarlet’s face was evident. He looked uncomfortable, squirming slightly in his seat as he received a standing ovation. His eyes darted across to his left, where Aegean was beaming beatifically at him, in stark contrast to the global glower being projected by his compatriots. Even Blue appeared furious. Scarlet felt the blood drain from his face at the realisation, feeling like he was about to be sick. Blue simply shook his head and looked away.

Scarlet abruptly stood up; the Neráides renewed their cheer in anticipation of the speech they believed he was about to make. Instead, he angrily turned toward Aegean.

“I’ve had about enough of this! None of this pomp and circumstance changes anything. You don’t even have the honour to admit to it.”

The crowd quietened instantly. Aegean cast a worried glance at several of his entourage, likely his advisors, who subtly nodded some unspoken understanding.

Aegean rose to his feet. “Kokkino, my liege, you understand our position. We have no desire to cause you undue displeasure. We wish to show you only our gratitude.”

“My name is Paul!” Scarlet declared coldly, crossing his arms. “That was the name chosen by my mother. She and my father are the ones who truly deserve gratitude.”

As Scarlet spoke, Aegean’s entourage surreptitiously moved up to him. Scarlet seemed to sense their approach, as his gaze shifted to the side. Heaving a sigh, he offered no resistance as Aegean grasped his hands in his.

“My liege, you have had a long day, and you must be feeling tired. We will understand if you wish to retire for the night.”

“Then I thank you for your hospitality and bid you all night,” Scarlet replied robotically, bobbing his head curtly at the crowd. With a long look of dispassionate disapproval aimed at the prince which hid the pain behind his blue eyes, Scarlet projected an aura of dignity as he allowed himself to be led away.

“Captain,” Blue gave a start, but Aegean placed a surprisingly-firm hand on his shoulder, cajoling him to remain seated.

“Please. Our liege needs his rest. You will be able to see him in the morning. In the meantime, please feel free to continue to partake in the feast. You are, after all, our guests of honour.”

Blue’s mouth felt like sandpaper under Aegean’s scrutiny. Privately, his determination and resolve only hardened.

One way or another, he was going to speak to Scarlet tonight.

Chapter IV

THE REMAINDER OF the banquet was a rather subdued affair. In light of the situation, it finished earlier than intended. As the faeries drifted back to their homes to settle down for the night, Blue took his co-captains aside.

“I want you to distract Aegean and his buddies for me. I’m going to try to talk to Captain Scarlet.”

“SIG, Captain Blue. Do you want one of us to come with you?”

Blue shook his head. “No, Pat. I don’t intend to be long, but if I do get caught, I’ll have to claim I got lost looking for the communal latrines, or something. That doesn’t sound like a very convincing story from one of us, let alone two. I’ll meet you back at our ‘domicile’ once I’ve seen Paul.”

Ochre offered a slight grin. “Spectrum is green, Adam. Good luck.”

The absence of a clear moon and the lack of artificial lighting made visibility poor. That suited Blue, who slipped along the leaf-littered ground as silently as possible, sticking to the shadows. He soon came to Scarlet’s hollow; taking a quick glance around to ensure he was indeed alone, Blue left the cover of darkness to approach the lit entrance. Not wishing to attract attention to any potential visitors, Blue cautiously opened the door a fraction. With confirmation that the coast was clear, Blue went inside. The main room was empty, so Blue climbed the short ladder to the loft.

Scarlet was lying on the low bed, eyes closed and his hands crossed over his stomach. At the sound of Blue’s approach, Scarlet lifted his head up dopily. Seeing the caller’s identity, a remarkable change came upon the man; his face lit up and he sat upwards as though galvanised.

“Adam!”

Seeing the befuddled and bemused expression written across Blue’s face, Scarlet seemed to remember himself. Drawing himself back on his bunk, he offered Blue a seat.

“That party was... something,” Blue commented after several moments’ silence.

“You mean someone. Someone stupid?” Scarlet asked rhetorically, his tone losing all of its warmth.

“I never said that, Paul.”

For a long moment, the two men stared into each others’ eyes, searching silently for the words left unsaid, the emotions unexpressed and the book of reasons locked behind their shared façades of steel; the intended catharsis was lost in a mental duel, swords crossing as both stubbornly denied access under protective instinct.

Recognising the impasse, Blue diverted his attention to studying the condition of his younger friend. He appeared in reasonable physical health, unsurprising given his alien healing abilities. Scarlet had shown no signs of senescence since that fateful day the Mysterons had taken, then lost, control of his mind and body. He never even appeared tired, excepting the times he was under immense stress or inanition. Despite this, his retrometabolic body still mimicked the physiological processes of a human. With the cord and wreath both removed, Blue could see Scarlet’s hair had grown several inches; far more than would have been expected after mere weeks.

Scarlet’s voice broke the silence. “I’ve grown quite adept at shaving with a knife, although I can’t say the same for my hair cutting skills, as you can see.” His eyebrows knitted in a frown as he absently considered the mirrored blade he had extracted from the trunk next to him while speaking, before he switched to a lower tone. “I waited – I waited for you to come, Captain.”

It was Blue’s turn to frown. “I did come, Captain Scarlet,” his voice echoing the wonder and unease he continued to feel in this minuscule polity.

“‘Against your will’. Except it was me who was brought here against his will. Me and my parents.”

Captain Blue fought against the urge to gape, and instead clasped Scarlet’s arm none-too-gently. “Everything in good time, Captain Scarlet, but tell me this now: how did you know what I thought?”

Scarlet resisted against Blue’s hold, eventually succeeding in breaking free. “I’ve long suspected that the Mysterons are highly-social beings, with connections that go beyond our realm of understanding. Don’t ask me why – I think my brain would implode – but I swear I have a sixth sense when it comes to you. Dr Fawn thinks it’s just sharper senses left over from my Mysteronisation, but I... don’t think it’s true. It’s... ”

“Friendship?”

“Much more than that.”

“Are you professing to love me?”

“Adam...”

“It might explain it...”

“Empathy. Empathy and faith, Adam. You’re a ruddy good fellow to have around. My platonic soul mate.”

Blue fell silent, so Scarlet continued.

“I told you that I can’t explain, but I assure you: I cannot read your thoughts.”

“Then I’m satisfied,” Blue declared with a slight smile. It vanished when he saw the misery still hidden behind Scarlet’s eyes. “And I never stopped looking for you when I could. I just didn’t believe you’d been –”

“ – whisked away by faeries?”

“Something like that... Paul, you said that your parents were brought here, too?”

Scarlet looked away. “That’s why I can’t just leave. I’m not allowed to see them, so I can’t even make sure they’re alright. I feel so damn helpless here, passive and wallowing in self-pity; it’s not the Metcalfe way. I’ve let the general down... again.”

“Paul,” Blue said firmly. “You were raised to be a soldier; okay. But you were taught how to face people, not aliens and fantasy creatures. You’re out of your depth and so is your dad. Give him time, and he’ll see that you are still the son he treasured.”

“Thanks,” Scarlet replied slowly, after a moment’s hesitation.

Blue sighed. He knew he had not succeeded in convincing his compatriot. “Well, we’re here to help now. We’ll get your parents free, don’t you worry.”

“Thank you, Adam.” This time his punctuated appreciation was genuine, a flicker of hope lighting up his eyes.

“By the way, do you know what the prince meant by ‘the Fásma’?”

A peculiar shine entered Scarlet’s eyes. “I spoke to Aegean about the officers of Spectrum who would come a-knocking, so I’d guess it has something to do with one of those terms,” he answered evenly, his lips twitching. His humour quickly shifted into alertness, as he became aware of a noise that Blue’s human hearing had not yet picked up.

“Somebody’s coming. You need to leave. Now, Adam!”

Blue gave a quick glance at the only door, before staring helplessly back at Scarlet. Scarlet seemed to recognise the issue with his advice, as he grabbed Blue’s arm to lead him down the ladder, before motioning for him to hide alongside the door.

“When they come, I’ll draw them away from your view. Then go!” Scarlet whispered quickly.

As Blue nodded his assent, the rap on wood signalled the arrival of the unknown caller. Though he didn’t recognise the voice, Blue didn’t waste time guessing and snuck out as soon as the coast was clear.

On returning to their shared quarters, Blue had related what he’d learnt from Scarlet to Ochre and Magenta. The three had briefly discussed their plans for the following day, before retiring for the night: Magenta would scope out the town for a lead on Scarlet’s parents, while Ochre and Blue would visit Scarlet again for more background. Since their radio caps were not working, they agreed to regroup outside their quarters at midday.

However, Blue found that he was unable to sleep at all that night and, when first light began to peek around the horizon, decided to get up and have a drink of water. Filling up a large pitcher from the water pump, Blue was outside when Iris delivered the captains’ new, handmade clothes. Thanking her, Blue took his load inside, before un-packaging the boxes to take a squiz at the garments: Adam himself was designated a grey undershirt, hose and shawl along with a black bliaut and boots. Patrick, meanwhile, received a laurel-green bliaut to go over a lilac hose and undershirt. It was Richard who got the short end of the stick, with a prominently-pumpkin smock which would allow only glimpses of steel blue to be visible underneath when worn.

Rearing to get a move on, Blue roughly washed up and changed into his new articles, before waking up his sleepy compatriots and hurrying them to get ready. In short order, the three were ready to go their separate ways.

Despite Aegean’s platitude the night prior, Blue and Ochre faced a litany of excuses when they attempted to see Scarlet at his workshop. He was purportedly ‘very busy’ between his weaponsmithing, lectures and meetings with the prince. A more casual enquiry informed the Midwestern and New England captains that Scarlet was giving a lecture at the amphitheatre. As they made their way up to adjacent stadium seats, they spotted Aegean’s advisors among the audience; the advisors saw them, as well, and looked none too pleased about it. However, they were not the only ones to notice the captains’ presence. Looking into the crowd, Scarlet paused to wave an acknowledgement to his friends before continuing his lecture.

“Something I have learnt in my roles as a soldier and a commander is that trust is vital. Trust in yourself, your superiors and your team. Suspicion and in-fighting will only breed contempt and disunity. In turn, it will lead to ineffective cooperation and greater failures.”

Blue saw the distinctly-amused look on Ochre’s face and considered what might be going through his head. Captain Scarlet was alternatively a reasonable leader and subordinate, but his hot-blooded righteousness sometimes led him to cross swords with the equally-fiery Colonel White. It resulted in some rather-childish sulking on the captain’s part unless, and until, he was proven wrong.

Ochre probably would have agreed with Blue, if it was Scarlet he was thinking about. Instead, he was reflecting on the early days of his partnership with Magenta. Ochre, a former detective and WPGC officer, had been reluctant to trust the former mob boss, even after his display of heroism during their recruitment. For his part, the newly-established Captain Magenta had taken on assignments with much gusto, acting as the perfect student around the conventionally-experienced officers. He was a little less deferential to Ochre, but just as friendly – almost overly, which did nothing to allay Ochre’s suspicions. In a further case of irony, Ochre’s veiled contempt eventually landed him a reprimand from the colonel, who explained that Magenta had proven himself to not only be a valuable asset to the organisation, but a dedicated and loyal officer – occasionally to the point of, quote, ‘overzealousness’, something that would hopefully be ‘corrected’ with time.

Joining Spectrum, Ochre turned over more than just a new page in his career. His entire life had been uprooted and it had left him more impacted than he had anticipated. It had left him lonelier than he’d expected. Colonel White’s endorsement made him reconsider his own assessment. For all his past offences, Magenta was genuinely a nice guy and Ochre ultimately found himself warming to his partner’s easygoing and generous disposition. It reminded Ochre of a quote from an old detective show:

“... Even with some of the murderers that I meet, I even like them, too. Sometimes. Like ‘em and even respect ‘em. Not for what they did, certainly not for that. But for that part of them which is intelligent, or funny, or just nice. Because there’s niceness in everyone; a little bit anyhow.”

Now, Ochre could scarcely think of anyone to who he was closer... except maybe a certain Angel pilot. But that was a whole other kettle of fish. He’d grown to implicitly trust Magenta, and with it, both their partnership and friendship had flourished.

A nudge at his side brought Ochre back to the present. A look at Blue showed that his inattention had been noticed by some of their neighbours, whose furious glares spoke volumes.

Zealots...

Nevertheless, Ochre refocused on his compatriot’s speech.

“... I come from a long line of soldiers, men and women who have fought for their land and people. Their experiences, and my own, have taught me that we were built for conflict, but not for war. We were not built to process the mass rage and loss. The casualties of war are the dead, the injured and the shell shocked.”

“What this made clear to me is that while battles and wars have their winners, no soldier truly achieves glory. I believe that the glory of war lies in honour. Good soldiers know there is no honour in heedless bloodshed, but in the defence of those facing threat or oppression where diplomacy has failed.”

“Remember, we soldiers are there to defend – and that requires striving for skill, cooperation and peace. Thank you.”

With his speech concluded, Scarlet made a beeline upstairs toward the captains, only to be intercepted by one of the prince’s nameless advisors. Scarlet’s attempt at extraction only resulted in the arrival of another advisor above him, who covertly steered him down towards an exit.

“Now that I know how the situation is, I can’t help but think how frustrated Paul must be right now,” Ochre commented, observing the scene with new sympathy. “We can probably scrub our chances of speaking with him.”

Blue nodded in silence as he watched his friend being led away for the umpteenth time. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

As the two made their way out onto the main thoroughfare, Blue checked his watch and frowned when he saw that it was indicating it was midafternoon. Strange. Swivelling his head up, Blue checked the town clock. It was noon; they were due to rendezvous with Magenta right now. Hesitating, he turned to Ochre.

“Look, why don’t you go ahead and meet up with Pat? Just explain to him that I’m going to do some research at the library.”

“Do you really think that will help us?” Ochre asked sceptically. “I’m more inclined to investigate Aegean’s private quarters.”

“That won’t be easy,” Blue reasoned. “I’m hoping to find a reference to any lesser-known areas of the principality. Given its small size, it seems likely that Paul’s parents are being kept somewhere discreet.”

“SIG, but I still think it’s a long shot, Adam,” Ochre opined. “I’ll see what Pat’s learned and if we can dig up anything else in this funhouse after a quick lunch.”

“Great. I’ll meet back up with you in, say, two hours?”

“Yeah, alright. Just make sure you get something to eat. We didn’t have any breakfast, remember?”

But Captain Blue was already out of earshot as he strode purposely down the main street to the Antioch New Library.

Blue spent less time at the library then he’d anticipated. His search through obscure maps and the few translated manuscripts proved fruitless. The librarian was also little help, largely ignoring him once he was set up with his materials; Blue suspected he was operating under strict instruction. Or maybe he was just an asshat.

Blue was just about ready to drop as he made his way back to his quarters. It was too early for Ochre and Magenta to be back, so after draining half the water jug, Blue decided to give in to some much-abandoned sleep.

It was with a start that Blue awoke. Rubbing his drooping eyes, Blue inelegantly shuffled out of bed and down the ladder to open the door.

“Hello,” a young woman greeted him with a bright smile and a curtsy. “We were sent to supply you with some tea. May we come in?”

The smell of freshly-baked bread wafted up Blue’s nose, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten.

“Is it really night?” he slurred instead, ignoring his visceral hunger in favour of glancing at the gloomy light outside.

The woman looked confused. “Yes, sir, but the sun has only just descended.”

“Then they’re well and truly late.” Blue gestured for the woman to enter. “Come in and thank you. The food smells delicious.”

The woman beamed in obvious delight at this praise, and waved her hand to usher her companions to follow after her. When they had left, Blue took one glance at the food before retrieving his boots and heading out the door.

This was no time for eating beans.

He went straight to Paul’s workshop, hoping he would find him there. But the place was empty. Blue considered taking one of the unfinished blades, but none of them were currently useful as weapons. Instead, he grabbed a staff-like club propped in one corner before leaving the hollow. As he walked under the arch, Blue stole a final glance at the hollow’s entrance. Again came that nagging sense of unease. Dismissing it in favour of practical concerns, he set about searching for the missing captains. Half an hour after pestering some of the locals, he finally found someone who had seen Magenta and Ochre go to the Bathhouse.

He thought he’d be glad to reconvene with his fellow captains. Instead, Blue was lost for words upon the sight of them: both were presently soaking in one of the heated pools of the public bathhouse in nothing but their birthday suits. Eyes closed and arms folded up behind their heads, they looked as serene as if having the best dream of their lives.

Blue’s shock was short-lived as he crossed the line of pools to confront his companions. “What do you two think you’re doing?” he demanded huskily. “Have you lost your minds?”

“Chill out, Blue,” Ochre said airily, waving his hand demonstratively. “The Bathhouse is not only a place for personal hygiene, but social hygiene. Why don’t you join us?”

“I think you mean ‘socialising’, Rick,” Magenta mused, before adding to Blue, “he’s right. Xanthousia is so inspiring and the people here are all so very friendly. It’s a wonderful place, isn’t it, Rick?”

“Hear, hear!” Ochre echoed, pretending to raise a toast, offering a benevolent smile to their bath attendant, who returned an uncertain smile of his own.

Blue glared down at him. “Look, I can’t find Paul and I’m starting to get worried.”

“Why worried?” Ochre remarked, closing his eyes once more and readjusting himself in the water. “He’s a big boy and can go where he pleases.”

“Have you checked at his workshop?” Magenta asked.

“Yes, of course,” Blue replied with the edge of a sigh. “I’ve asked around, but nobody seems to know where he is – or won’t tell me,” he added under his breath.

Magenta shrugged his shoulders in a defeated gesture and offered Blue a sympathetic look, but otherwise made no comment. Blue glanced between the two captains, but received no additional signs of support and Magenta soon followed Ochre’s lead into relaxing back against the pool.

“For Pete’s sake!” Blue snapped, slamming a balled-up fist down onto his thigh. “Pull yourselves together and be serious!”

“What do you want, Adam?” Magenta asked patiently, without reopening his eyes.

“I want you two to get off your naked arses and help me look for Captain Scarlet!”

“Rude,” Ochre muttered.

“Poor Paul. Just wait until Adam finds him,” Magenta agreed.

Frowning deeply, Blue swung away from his compatriots and briskly stalked off. It was time to get some straight answers...

Chapter V

“ALRIGHT THAT DOES it, Aegean! What the devil happened to my friends?”

Captain Blue was in no mood to feign decorum as he barged past the faeries guarding the entry to the prince’s mead hall, flinging the double doors open without regard to anybody standing just inside. As a rush of blood coloured his face and his icy-blue eyes glittered, all he could think about was getting his hands onto somebody.

The abrupt intrusion caused the room’s occupants to turn toward the fair captain; Adam could feel his eyes widening as they caught sight of a pair of celestial-blue ones staring back at them, rendering him momentarily speechless at the unanticipated presence of his colleague. The clearing of a throat nearby drew Blue’s attention, and he felt a fresh flood of anger course through him as Aegean rose to his feet before him.

“Fásma Ouranos, this is most uncommon: my liege Kokkino and I are in the midst of a private discourse.”

“Does it look like I care? I’ll ask you again: what did you do to Ochre and Magenta?”

“’Do’?” Scarlet echoed, turning his back on Blue to shoot a suspicious look at Aegean.

“He’s brainwashed them,” Blue explained coldly, as Scarlet turned to face him again. Returning his focus to Aegean, he continued. “I don’t know what kind of game this is, but it has gone far enough. Tell me what happened!”

Scarlet had shut his eyes in frustration, his mouth turning down in a slight scowl, before he answered for Aegean. “Adam, stop. Give me a few minutes alone with Aegean and then I’ll come see you outside. Deal?”

“That’s if you do turn up.”

Scarlet flicked his gaze from side to side, but said nothing, clearly waiting for Blue’s acquiescence. Aegean tilted his head down in a challenging manner, watching Blue closely with steel in his eyes. Blue sighed, before holding his hands up.

“Spectrum is green. See you soon, Paul.”

Captain Blue stared up at the Mediterranean cypress above him, its conical frame and coral-like foliage untamed and positively monstrous from his shrunken perspective. A sudden cold wind whipped through the night backdrop, audibly rustling the shadowy cypress and making Blue shiver involuntarily. He’d spent the last half hour pacing in the garden of the Royal Court, wondering if choosing to stay put was particularly smart. Settling down onto one of the stone benches of the inner courtyard, Blue leant forward and propped his chin upon his fists. Tried patience was one thing, but he was honestly concerned about the dangers of remaining within the court grounds. Despite this, he was resolved not to leave without Scarlet.

Though he had serious doubts he would get to see him.

“Adam?”

It was to his surprise, then, when he saw the red-and-gold-clad figure of his friend striding up to stand before him.

“I’m sure you have plenty of questions, Adam, but first I have to ask about Ochre and Magenta. Are they... ?”

“Oh, they’re as happy as Larry,” Blue replied with an exasperated sigh. “I left them chilling out in the Bathhouse.”

Scarlet nodded his head thoughtfully, before looking back down at Blue. “Aegean did tell me that the effects of the elixir used on them are temporary.”

“Well, thank goodness for that. This place is certainly no Xanadu, no matter what Rick and Pat think at the moment.”

Scarlet again nodded his head slowly, before speaking again. “Come on, Adam. Let’s go for a little walk. I could do with stretching my legs a bit.”

“Paul, what’s the deal with these beings?” Blue asked, getting to his feet and following beside Scarlet along the moonlit floor, tracing his hands along the flagstone walls. “I don’t believe in magic and fantasy, yet here we are: reduced to the size of action figures.”

“The Neráides are variable illusionists, but they possess sophisticated technology and great skill in a kind of complex mathematical modelling – to such an uncanny extent that it would probably resemble ‘magic’ even to an educated eye.”

“That’s how they were able to shrink us and brainwash Rick and Pat so easily,” Blue realised.

“Correct.”

“I’m just lucky I wasn’t around to get the same treatment. What about you? You don’t appear to be susceptible to their influence, Paul.”

Scarlet slowed his pace for a fraction, before resuming his previous rate. “I can only put it down to being a reconstruction,” he answered slowly. “Ironically, for their advanced science, the average Neráid is rather unenlightened. En masse, they seem to believe that the reason for my untouchability is divine intervention. Only Aegean and his advisors know the truth.”

“So their hold over you is purely extortive. Do you have any idea where your mum and the general are?”

“If I did, don’t you think I would have gone to them by now?” Scarlet responded harshly, his eyes flashing.

“Easy, buddy. I just want to find them like you do.”

“I’m sorry,” Scarlet said with a sigh. “I – it’s been a long time.”

“Three weeks can easily seem like a lifetime to a prisoner,” Blue offered in consolation. “Trust me, I know...”

“‘Three weeks’?” Scarlet swung his head around to shoot a disbelieving glance at Blue which superficially came across as hostile. “Adam, I’ve been here for nearly six months.”

“Are you trying to tell me the Neráides can control time?”

Scarlet seemed to shortly recover himself, as he explained. “In a manner of speaking. Everything in Xanthousia is locked in a state of accelerated time. I just didn’t realise how much faster it runs here.”

“Things are starting to become a little clearer – not that I understand the ‘hows’. What about the Earth’s rate of rotation? Sunrise and sunset times seem to be the same as we’re used to. Are we even still on Earth, or are we in some kind of... pocket universe?”

Scarlet gave a light huff. “May as well be... but I don’t think so. No, I believe we’re still in Greece. As for the sunrise/sunset discrepancy, Xanthousia is subject to artificial day-night cycles. So, at the moment, that means twelve hours daylight –”

“– and twelve hours night-time, otherwise everyone would be subject to a four-day succession of each,” Blue finished.

“Precisely.”

“What about communication systems? I’m guessing Xanthousia is shielded from external radio waves.”

“You’re on fire, Adam. Now I have a question for you. Do you remember the play they performed at your honour banquet?” Scarlet asked, looking at Blue inquisitively.

“Yeah, but I doubt how much of it is actually true.”

This earned a light chuckle from Scarlet. “Well, I can’t help you much there. The veracity of gods and goddesses aside, the play is not an accurate account of the war between the Nerites and the Neráides.”

“I’m not surprised,” Blue remarked.

“No? The Neráides are a proud people; their ardent defence of Xanthousia has become as legendary to them as the rivalry itself. Over the last few centuries, however, attrition tactics have tipped the balance of power away from them. Now, Xanthousia is facing an imminent collapse if the Nerites decide to launch a full-scale manoeuvre.”

Blue looked at Scarlet, surprise painted across his face. The revelation was an unexpected one, but not completely shocking; he didn’t know why that fact was so hard for him to believe.

“How can you be so sure, Paul? They told you this?”

Scarlet grunted. “You fail to remember that I have a bachelor’s in history. I know I’m not Harvard educated like you, but I do know how to conduct research. I talked to different Neráids, of course, but I also trawled through their historical documentation – the official and the raw information.”

“Aegean allowed this?” Blue asked doubtfully.

Scarlet said nothing, but gave Blue the hint of an impish smile that confirmed his suspicions.

Blue let the information sink in, when Scarlet suddenly stopped and turned to face him, gripping his forearms in earnest. “Adam, this is the last time I will be able to speak with you. In exchange for this meeting, I had to agree to remain confined to Aegean’s presence.”

“Paul –”

“Please keep searching for my parents – but be careful,” Scarlet continued, cutting of the start of Blue’s protest. “I have Aegean’s assurance that he will not inhibit you or the other captains again, but don’t push your luck. When you find them, take them straight to Cloudbase for protection; the effects of the miniaturisation ray should wear off once you leave the principality. I will find my own way out.”

Releasing Blue, Scarlet reached into the pocket of his bliaut and produced a piece of folded parchment. “Here. I took this from Aegean’s study earlier. I didn’t have time to decrypt it, but I hope it helps.”

Blue pocketed the paper, before shifting his head to look back down at Scarlet, his voice cracked with strain. “Captain Scarlet...”

“It’s down to you, Adam. Good luck.”

Looking down at the proffered hand, Blue drew in a deep breath before he firmly shook it. “Vi ses, Captain Scarlet.”

Chapter VI

BACK IN HIS quarters, Blue unfolded the parchment and scrutinised its contents. It appeared to be annotated plans for the Bathhouse, but Blue couldn’t understand the majority of the text, beyond recognising it as a form of Greek script; he ruefully wondered whether Black would have been able to interpret it, was he present.

Well, Captain, I will never know now will I?

The memory of his ‘recruiting pains’ was something Blue could now smile about, and it had enabled him to form strong and long-lasting bonds with those who were to become his fellow officers. The rocky introduction and Black’s aloof personality didn’t invite frequent mixing outside of duty hours, when he often preferred to remain in his own company. Thus, Blue had never grown especially close to him, but the man’s valuable experience had continued to see him act as a mentor to his fellow captains, and he had eventually gained Blue’s respect.

Blue shook the thoughts from his mind: the Captain Black he had known was long dead, just like Brown, Indigo and the countless others who had given their lives in the war of nerves against the Mysterons. Some things were better not considered, until the day came when the victims could be truly mourned.

At least they had got Scarlet back.

Refocusing his attention on the plans, Blue examined a blank portion where a scramble of ostensible nonsense had been meticulously inked under the phrase ‘SAD CYPRESS’. The term reminded him of a musical extract from Twelfth Night: Come away, come away death/ And in sad cypress let me be laid.

Maybe that’s why the Neráides speak in quasi-Shakespearian jargon? Blue wondered, as he slid onto the bench and attempted to decrypt the cipher. Although feeling worn out, it was a cinch for him to determine the key, with the solution following on easily thereafter.

Our liege is a warrior great, but first a son much devoted to the beloved human guardians he perceives as his own kin. He will never stand for our cause unless he is deprived of the presences of Karolos and Maria. Take them to the air above the Royal Court, where Neráides and Nerites alike never roam, and ensure of their continued health. Above all else, keep them well hidden. I will handle our liege, as well as his guards – the Fásma – should they come for him.

Should this treatment of her progeny cause anger to Aphrodite herself, I claim full responsibility and will beg of her that I alone receive as cruel a fate she deems satiates this sin. Please understand why I must take these risks and do not despair, come what may.

Deliver this note back to me on your next return, and tell not a soul about the location of the lord and lady. I am counting on you, my dear friend. We must not give up Xanthousia’s last hope without resistance.

– Your love, Aegean

Reading his transcribed note, Blue realised that Scarlet was right about the history of the war and of its relevance to his parents’ location.

“‘Air above the Royal Court’” Blue read aloud. “What the dickens does that mean?”

He glanced again at the plans. “’Sad cypress... cypress... maybe he’s talking about a structure in the cypress above the Royal Court? Great. Now I just need to figure out a way to get up there when I’m four inches tall and that tree is three hundred and ninety times my height... something tells me this won’t be like climbing that old oak at recess...”

Several hours passed as Captain Blue executed his plan to surmount the cypress. A trip to the West Coast some years previously had seen him hike through Muir Woods up to the peak of Mount Tam; though the elevation was comparable to the ratio between his current height and that of the tree, the path up the mountainside had followed a manageable acute gradient, not a sheer wall of bark.

Despite having a general idea of the equipment he would require for the climb, Blue would have needed to ensure a setup that would provide for the safe ascent and descent of multiple people, if indeed the Metcalfes were being held in the depths of the cypress. The point was likely moot, however; in spite of the clandestine nature suggested by Aegean’s letter, it was logical that there would be some existing access to the hideaway.

It was also likely that the Metcalfes were being guarded at close range... and that, sooner or later, at least one guard would need to come down to heed the call of nature...

When the time did come, the guard barely registered to react as a raised hand behind him chopped down on the side of his neck; Captain Blue caught the faerie and guided him to the ground. Taking a quick look around to make sure he hadn’t been spotted, Blue took hold of the man’s arms and dragged him a safe distance behind a rock. After swapping out their outfits, Blue secured the guard, before digging up some fertile soil and rustling it through his fair hair.

Discovering a series of inconspicuous wooden holds where the guard had come down, Blue quietly scaled up to a small platform that projected out of one side of a small blind. Roughly the dimensions of a squat kestrel nesting box, the exterior of the cabin blind was heavily camouflaged by old cypress branches, with a smaller alcove on the platform serving as a lookout post for the singular guard.

By contrast, the interior of the cabin was distinctly gloomy; consisting entirely of beech wood stained to a deep brown-black, it was lit only by a single candle lantern resting on the corner table adjacent to the two low beds. The room was completely quiet, apart from the steady knocking of the shutters as a series of chilly gusts blew through the open dormer window: Blue swore that he could even hear the sound of his own breaths, especially as he directed his attention to the right wall of the cabin.

Reclined back in a pair of twin rocking chairs were Charles and Mary Metcalfe. They looked much as their son had when Blue had gone to see him on that first night; heads tilted back against the padded headrest, with their hands folded over their stomachs, they appeared to be in a peaceful sleep. Both wore identical loose-fitting raiments of burnt gold that matched the spindly wreaths of dying rose leaves and stems atop their pale-faced heads. Lacking the characteristic broad features of mother and son, the general’s face appeared drawn and gaunt, with the blunted thorns resembling staples running around his forehead; combined with the prominent grey forelock in his wife’s raven, braided high bun, Blue was given the vague impression of Frankenstein’s monster and his bride.

“General, Mrs Metcalfe... what in the hell have they done to you?” Blue murmured to himself.

Crouching down beside them to examine them for signs of injury, Blue found that they appeared to have lost muscle tone and weight overall, but otherwise seemed unhurt. They also weren’t unconscious, as Blue discovered when he grasped the general’s shoulder and saw him flick his eyes open in response.

“General? It’s Captain Blue. Can you hear me?”

Charles Metcalfe continued to stare straight at Blue, with no trace of recognition in his faraway expression. Blue’s efforts to rouse the general’s wife obtained an equally concerning lack of reaction.

“Jesus. I’m not Doctor Fawn, but I don’t like the look of this,” Blue muttered, kneeling down between the pair. “Please. General, Mrs Metcalfe, if you can hear me, then squeeze my arm –”

Blue gave a slight start when he felt the hands of both Metcalfes clamp down onto either of his arms with surprising strength. Looking up into their faces, Blue saw them looking down unseeingly in his general direction. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end as he gingerly extricated himself and swiftly got to his feet, taking a step back from the pair – only for them to rise up slowly from their seats and step forward after him. Almost involuntarily, Blue took another several paces back; like Newton’s third law of motion, the Metcalfes followed in unison.

Clearly the Metcalfes were being kept in a state of reduced consciousness, as their efforts to move were uncoordinated and gradual, as if they were sleepwalkers or shambling zombies. The scene was eerie enough to have come straight out of a horror film. But this wasn’t a fiction, and the presence of central venous access suggested the involvement of drugs. If that was the case, then the Metcalfes should eventually come out of this state by themselves; Blue just had to wait and prevent them from receiving another dose of whatever ‘elixir’ had been systematically pumped into their systems.

After leading the somnolent Metcalfes back to their cushioned commode seats, Blue took up position beside the cabin’s entrance. Blue allowed himself a single ambivalent sigh as he wrapped his arms about himself and slumped back against the beech panelling in preparation for the wait ahead of him, trying to ignore the chill that had overcome him.

The sound of a low moan and a short sniff alerted Blue that his companions were stirring into full consciousness.

“My head... what happened?”Charles Metcalfe slurred with a slight wince. He looked down, noticing his attire for the first time. “Why am I wearing stockings?”

“I think you were on prolonged bed rest,” Blue said carefully, wary not to break all the fantastic news to his companions at once in case they thought he had gone positively batty. “I’ve seen them plenty of times in sick bay.”

“We mer urt?” Mary Metcalfe mumbled, sounding more groggy than confused.

“No, I don’t think so...”

“Just where are we?” the general muttered, looking around the small cabin. “The last thing I remember is driving several hours back to Volos to search for Paul.”

“You were aware Captain Scarlet was missing?” Blue asked, temporarily forgetting about the general’s own question. “Spectrum figured that you and Mrs Metcalfe simply parted ways early with the captain when you all went ashore.”

General Metcalfe threw a quizzical look at Blue, seemingly only then becoming fully aware of his presence. “Captain, Paul never even got off the boat at Volos. Not with us.”

Blue frowned. “What do you mean?”

The general seemed reluctant to elaborate, earning an unfocused glare from Mary Metcalfe, who answered for him.

“The night before we arrived at Volos... Paul and Charles were engaged in a heated quarrel. The next morning, Paul elected to remain onboard while his father and I left to explore. He said he needed time alone to think.” The expression in Mary’s eyes cleared as she recalled a troubled memory. “When we reboarded that evening, his luggage was gone and we couldn’t find him anywhere. It was as if he had just vanished.”

“I don’t understand,” Blue asked, confused. “If you had concerns about Captain Scarlet, why didn’t you radio Spectrum?”

“Because we weren’t concerned,” the general answered. “Not overly. The circumstances suggested that Paul left of his own accord. I expected he would have at least left a note, but then again, I thought maybe he was still feeling sore and sorry for himself.”

Mary turned an accusing gaze on her husband. “Damn you and your pigheadedness, Charles! If you two weren’t so stubborn and proud, you could have talked things over, and maybe our child would have been with us.”

The general hesitated, guilt dimming his stalwart demeanour. “I admit I did not want to see him, and I may have allowed that to affect my response. After we disembarked at Athens the following morning, I used my credentials at the airport to enquire about the collection of a Spectrum jet.”

“You should have contacted Cloudbase in the first instance, General,” Blue admonished.

From what Scarlet had told him, Blue had the impression that Charles Metcalfe was a conscientious and ruthlessly-efficient tactician and military leader; Blue found it surprising to see him make so many errors in judgement. It made him wonder about the subject of the father-son argument and why Scarlet hadn’t mentioned it. Then again, maybe he had.

What was it that he said earlier? ‘I’ve let the general down... again.’

“Yes, I should have,” the general readily agreed with a nod. “I realised my assumption was wrong upon learning a jet had not been requisitioned, as planned. At that point, we radioed Cloudbase and left a message. It sounds as though you never received it.”

Blue simply raised an eyebrow and nodded. Whoever had been manning the communication console at the time was going to see their head either roll or be served on a platter, or perhaps both. It wasn’t possible for even Lieutenant Green to answer every call live, but he had never failed to follow up on a missed call. Colonel White would not be pleased to hear about this flub.

“I did radio Cloudbase earlier,” Mary spoke up quietly.

“What? When?”

“When I said I was going for a walk around the deck, Charles, I actually went to the ship’s captain and asked for use of the radio, but I never got to speak with anyone,” she explained.

Blue scowled. If the colonel didn’t have the responsible officer’s hide, then he just might. And why hadn’t the Doris’ crew informed them about Mrs Metcalfe’s radio call?

“Maybe you weren’t concerned,” Mary continued in a retort. “But I knew something wasn’t right from the beginning.”

“I’m sorry, Mary. You were right, but do you think I’d desert Paul if I really believed he was in danger? No matter what, he’s my son and nothing will change that.”

His wife didn’t look convinced. “Shortly after Paul joined Spectrum, something changed in him. He’s become... distant with the both of us, and then you with him. I know you’re both hiding something from me; I don’t like it, but as long as you’ve both been safe, I’ve never pushed either of you about it.”

Blue snuck a furtive glance at the general: aside from a slight wince, he didn’t react.

“I thought that this holiday might help us reconnect as a family. That’s why I insisted you didn’t bring your transceiver, Charles. I didn’t want anything to interrupt our time together. It didn’t work out very well in the end, did it?”

Seeing the mother blinking back tears and hearing the raw pain in her voice, Blue was reminded that he had some explaining of his own to do.

“Mrs Metcalfe,” he spoke up. “You don’t need to worry about Captain Scarlet. I’ve seen him and he’s doing fine.”

Both Metcalfes turned at the captain’s comment.

“You’ve seen Paul?” Mary asked hurriedly. “Where is he?”

“He’s here in Xanthousia – that’s the name of this... place. All three of you were captured and brought here. While Captain Scarlet was being coerced to lend military aid, you were both being held drugged and hostage to ensure of his compliance.”

“That doesn’t sound reassuring,” Mary said with a frown. “What kind of military aid?”

“Strategising and weapon smithing, mostly. Trust me, Mrs Metcalfe. Paul is alright. He’s not exactly happy, but he’s unhurt. He is very worried about both of you,” Blue added without irony.

“‘Weapon smithing’? Where exactly are we, Captain?” Charles asked slowly, repeating his earlier question. “I’ve never heard of this Xanthousia before.”

“I’ll tell you, but I’m afraid my answer won’t help much,” Blue said with a sigh. “At the moment we’re in a tree house.”

“‘A tree house’?”

“Yes. Before I explain any more, I would suggest taking a brief look outside – just keep a safe distance from the window and be prepared for a shock. Then we’d better get a move on. By my estimates, it won’t be dark much longer and we are bound to have company soon...”

Chapter VII

CAPTAIN BLUE LED the Metcalfes back to his temporary quarters, giving them a laconic summation of events on the way. No amount of explanation was going to pacify the Metcalfes’ incredulity, and Blue frankly had too much on his mind to satisfy their spell of questions.

Blue was relieved to see that Captains Ochre and Magenta were both present and mostly recovered from their spaced trip to fairyland. Blue outlined the major developments from the previous night to his compatriots and his plans going forward. Contrary to their son’s earlier plea, Blue proposed that one of the captains should take custody of the Metcalfes and relocate them to Captain Scarlet’s workshop, while the other two retrieved Scarlet. With Magenta volunteering to accompany the Metcalfes, Blue and Ochre headed out to the prince’s court.

Absently rotating Blue’s club in his hands, Captain Ochre looked up at the towering mushroom form of the Royal Court.

“Now what?” he asked, looking at Blue, before directing his gaze back up at the structure. “It’s a pretty big place. You know Captain Scarlet better than any of us. Where do you think we should start?”

Blue rubbed his face tiredly. “Maybe the bedrooms. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s shut himself away to –”

“Sulk?”

“Would you do any different in his shoes?”

“I’d probably be starting a fight,” Ochre responded semi-seriously. “Anyway, I agree. Let’s get to it then. Do you want to dispatch of the guards, or shall I?”

As it was, the captains did not need to worry about any guards; a furtive search found them inside a self-contained cottage attachment with Aegean and his advisors. Seeing the coast was clear, the captains proceeded upstairs. Where the quadrilateral ground floor comprised the mead hall, kitchen and the attachment, each storey of the cylindrical ‘stalk’ seemed to consist solely of a central room with a wraparound corridor leading to the next flight of steps. It was the final flight to the top level of the tower, spiralling into the heart of a trefoil of rooms, where the captains located the bedchambers.

“I suppose these are Aegean’s quarters? I guess he just isn’t humble like his lord and saviour,” Ochre remarked dryly, as he closed the door of a private study. “There’s nobody in here.”

“There’s nobody in this suite, either,” Blue commented, as he emerged back into the circular anteroom.

Ochre shrugged. “Lucky last?”

“Only one way to find out. Come on.”

When Ochre attempted to turn the knob, he found it wouldn’t budge. “Damn it, it’s locked.”

“Shh. Can you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“There’s water running. Here, hand me your belt.”

After long minutes using the prong, Blue finally managed to release the lock. Inside, the officers found themselves in the foyer of another bedroom. A recess to their left housed one of the principality’s distinctive low beds. A storage chest situated immediately in front of the ornately-carved bed bore Aegean’s royal crest, but it was the crude boots beside it that captured Blue’s attention. Lifting his gaze up from his crouched position, he surveyed the weapons rack which ran along one side of the recess, from which hung a series of sheathed blades and archery gear. The bow and arrows here were different to the ones he had seen hanging up in Scarlet’s workshop; gold-plated, the recurve bow was inscribed with the name bestowed upon Captain Scarlet by the people of Xanthousia.

“We’re definitely in the right place, but there’s no sign of Captain Scarlet,” Ochre murmured, stating the obvious as he ran his fingers over the bow’s inscription.

Captain Blue did not respond; instead he stood up and moved to the floor-length tapestry drapes that lined the front of the small foyer. Silence hung in the air, broken only by the continued tinkling of water emanating from behind the drapes. With both hands, Blue pushed aside the curtains to reveal a private bathroom. The eight-point stars in the twilight sky of the lapis lazuli vault echoed that of the Arena Chapel, overlooking creamy hues of polished limestone in the remaining construction. The sandy warmth turned to vibrant chroma within a central drop-in tub, the waterproofed mural depicting the progressional rites of Adonia. Above, a marble statue of a young woman rose up, her palms open in a gesture of supplication, catching the glistening streams of water that fell from her Parian eyes.

“Oh god... Paul...”

Lying amongst the crystal waters of the fresco bath was Captain Scarlet. Too slight to accommodate his stature, Scarlet was semi-recumbent, his knees drawn up and his dark head curled in toward his body. From the grand fountain above, the twin streams ran down his still face, trickling down his closed eyes and nose and into the surrounding pool. A wreath of anemones was wrapped around his crown, shades lighter than the same congealed hue at the base of his head. Below, a scattering of petals ghosted in the subtle ripple of the water flow, drifting past Scarlet’s clawed hands as they bobbed lifelessly in the march of rigor.

Without a word, Blue mechanically heaved Scarlet up, dripping, out of the tub. Ignoring the offer of aid from Ochre, Blue exited the bathroom and kneeled on the bed, laying out his burden. Blue removed the wreath before once over brushing back the damp waves from Scarlet’s face.

“What happened?” Ochre asked in subdued incredulity, seemingly addressing no-one in particular.

Blue’s soft tone broke the answering silence. “He’s been dead longer than normal. I’ve only seen it happen when he hasn’t had a chance to recover.” He looked across at his companion, the rage that roiled in his eyes hidden behind his overall expression of implacable calm.

“The water; I know,” Ochre replied gently, coming to put a hand on Blue’s shoulder. “He’ll be alright now.”

Blue shrugged off Ochre’s grasp and, drawing on long hours of practice, stiffly sat down to keep an illusory vigil over his friend. For almost an hour, the brooding silence was maintained, a knife’s edge that seemed destined to be plunged when Blue abruptly straightened up.

“Stay here,” he instructed.

“Adam, just where are you going?” Ochre asked warily, well aware of the intent behind Blue’s cold tone.

“This was no accident. I’m going to find who did this and then... we’ll see.”

“Adam...”

Blue was partway to the bedroom door, when it opened inwards; a head of brown ringlets shifted with motion, as the figure stared unseeingly at the ground. Looking up, he suddenly noticed Blue and recoiled, obviously startled.

“Fásma Ouranos!” Athan gasped. “What are you doing in here?”

“What happened to Captain Scarlet?” Blue demanded, towering over the young faerie, as he grabbed him by his surcoat. “Answer me!”

“Sir, it was an accident!” Athan replied with obvious distress upon his features. “Our liege was in a fury and Aegean only wished to calm him down...”

“Aegean killed him?” Ochre growled, as Blue tightened his grip.

Athan shook his head, his eyes glistening in both terror and unshed tears. “Kokkino threatened harm to himself if Aegean came near him. He pulled out his knife... I panicked – I grabbed a vase and – oh, help me!”

Athan broke down, his face dropping down against his chest. Ochre looked across at Blue, surprised by the revelation. The blond American had gone pale, his grasp on Athan loosening. As Blue released him fully, the young man sunk down onto his knees and sobbed violently.

“I-I killed him...”

“You did no such thing,” came a weak voice from behind the group. Captain Scarlet had emerged from the bed, blanched and shivering, his ceremonial bliaut still drenched. But he was alive.

“Kokkino!” Athan’s eyes widened, as he scrambled to his feet with a start. “You’re alive!”

“Very much so,” Scarlet replied ironically.

Athan once again dropped to his knees, this time in a gesture of pleading. “Oh, forgive me, my liege! I never meant to hurt you...”

“Forget it,” Scarlet said dismissively, waving his hand demonstratively. Seeing how affected the young faerie was, Scarlet continued in a more gentle manner. “Look, I frightened you and put you in a position of great stress. As such, I am as much to blame for what happened; I do not hold you accountable, and neither should you. I am quite fine, as you can see.”

To further illustrate his point, Scarlet crouched down alongside the still-hesitant Athan and put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been kind to me, Athan, and that means more than a stupid mistake. Can you accept that, do you think?”

Looking across with red-rimmed doe eyes, Athan sniffed and slowly nodded his head.

“Good fellow,” Scarlet murmured compassionately, patting him encouragingly. “Now wipe away those tears and stand up. Do you think you feel up to summoning Aegean?”

Complying with Scarlet’s request to compose himself, Athan again nodded. “Yes, my liege, I am,” he said, his voice still cracking with grief.

“Do that then. And Athan, remember, you are not to blame.”

As the boy exited, Scarlet felt a hand on his back and turned to see Blue standing beside him. “Good on you, Paul,” he whispered. “Are you alright?”

Scarlet nodded. “Yeah, just a little cold,” he replied, before adding more quietly, “Adam, my parents... ?”

“They’re safe, Paul. I sent Pat to stay with them at your workshop.”

Scarlet’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth, as though to chew Blue out. Instead, he said in a low voice. “They may be safe right now, Adam, but these people are desperate and, now, our boats have been burned.”

Twisting to face both his compatriots, he switched to a more forceful tone. “Alright, this is what we’re going to do, if you’re with me: Rick, I want you to go fetch Pat and my parents and then bring them back here ASAP. On your return, I want you to go straight to the armoury on the second floor and bar the doors behind you.” Retrieving his sheathed sword, he held it out to Ochre. “Here, take it. Just in case.”

“SIG,” Ochre responded, adding dryly, “I love your faith in my sword fighting abilities, Paul.”

“Naturally. Now go, please – and be careful.”

Ochre finished adjusting the belt around his middle and gave Scarlet a companionable pat on the shoulder, before leaving.

“And what am I supposed to do? Don’t even think about sending me away, because I am not going to leave you behind this time.”

For a moment, Scarlet just stared at Blue, before moving to pick up his archery gear. Pulling the quiver on over his shoulder, he spoke up in a tone that was ambiguously serious. “I want you to back me up, Captain. I intend to end this once and for all by confronting Aegean.”

Blue blinked, not having expected Captain Scarlet to give in so easily. “Then you’ve got it. So, what’s your plan –”

This time, both men heard the footsteps that echoed outside the bedroom.

“Adam, quickly, arm yourself!” Scarlet hissed, promptly reaching for an arrow behind him.

Blue quickly scanned his surroundings, selecting his club over the hunting knife. Scarlet nocked the arrow into position, as Blue moved to stand by his side. Blue steeled himself for an attack, temporarily thrown when all that transpired was a single knock upon the door; Captain Scarlet simply slid his head forward imperceptibly, his loose bangs falling over his damp and furrowed brows, as he raised his bow.

“Who’s there?” he demanded sharply.

A brief pause occurred before the emotionless voice replied, “Aegean, my liege. I am here, as you summoned.”

“Now listen very carefully to me, Aegean. Your advantage over me has been lost. You have wronged me for the last time. If you choose to enter, I will take it that you have formally accepted my challenge.”

“Athan, I request you to fetch my bow and arrows.”

“My prince, do not, I beg of you!”

At the sound of Athan’s desperately pleading, Blue suddenly realised Scarlet’s intention.

“Captain!” he protested, only for Scarlet to shoot him a meaningful glare.

“Enough, Athan,” Aegean spoke up in a calm, but commanding, tone. “I must honour our law. This is the only way to settle this. My liege... I accept; but may I be allowed a few words before we begin?”

“While we wait, what choice have I? Very well. Proceed.”

The door finally opened, as Aegean walked into the room, his proud countenance gainsaid by his bowed head.

“Kokkino, Fásma Ouranos. I know I speak for us all when I thank Aphrodite for your gift of rebirth. I realise that my presence is unwelcome, but I must implore to you, my liege, and have hope that my explanation will aid you to understand my actions on behalf of the Neráides.”

“You must have heard the tales of the silver giants of the ocean, how they and their evil god seek to overthrow the Sea himself. But the Sea elected a champion, a mortal warrior of your kind, to defend his realm and its peoples.”

Turning to Scarlet alone, he continued. “I should have known Aphrodite would not desert us, but I grew impatient and, in desperation, drew out of our land to find aid. When we saw you, saw what you are and that you had come to us, I knew our time had at last arrived. I saw the sign and clenched you with my fist, instead of granting you my absolute trust and faith. I was wrong.”

It was then that Athan returned with the prince’s artillery. Silence fell as trembling fingers exchanged their burden with steady ones. Blue drew in a deep breath as Aegean finished prepping his bow and turned to face Scarlet. After an expectant side glance from Scarlet, Blue reluctantly joined Athan in a grim-faced countdown.

“10, 9, 8...”

Captain Scarlet lifted his bow and drew back the string, as several beads of sweat broke out across Aegean’s hairline, dripping down past his clear stare of determination; still, he did not ready his weapon.

“... 4, 3, 2, 1...”

Scarlet’s taut expression cracked as Aegean bent to place his bow and arrow on the ground before him.

“What are you doing?”

“I am forfeiting in your favour, my liege. I concede that I failed. O Aphrodite! See this error of mine and have mercy on my people!”

“Silence!” Scarlet thundered, still keeping a firm grip on his aim. “You are right, Aegean. If you wanted my help, all you had to do was ask. You might have found a very different response. Instead, you kidnapped me, bewitched my friends and threatened my parents. You don’t deserve mercy.”

“Kokkino, my liege.” Aegean shut his eyes and knelt before Scarlet in preparation. “I understand.”

Scarlet glared at him, before abruptly moving his bow down. “I will help you fight for freedom. But you must first pledge that you will not inflict any more harm on my kin. I must know they will remain safe here, before I will lift another finger for your cause.”

Aegean opened his eyes, the expression in them reflecting a mixture of emotions, but most of all, surprise.

“After all we have done wrong by you, you are still willing to aid us?”

“I told you, Aegean. I might have lost my humanity, but I did not lose my principles – and I was raised to have good ones. It is my honour to help you.”

“Now that sounds like the boy I raised.”

Scarlet whirled around at the sound of the familiar voice, to be met by the grinning figure of Mary Metcalfe, whose appearance was shortly followed by a panting Ochre. “Mum!” he exclaimed, quickly dropping his weapon to meet her halfway, wrapping her in a tight embrace. “You’re alright?”

Mary nodded and pulled back, brushing the hair back from her son’s face. “And you?” she echoed sombrely.

“I am now.” Scarlet raised his head up to look over his mother, where he saw his father jogging up just ahead of Magenta. “Dad... it’s good to see you.”

“You too, Paul,” his father replied, coming up and shaking his son’s outstretched hand. When Scarlet made to withdraw, the general resisted, clutching his hand more tightly. The men shared a meaningful look before the elder Metcalfe released his son.

“I’m sorry you two got dragged into this on my account,” Scarlet said to both his parents.

“It’s not your fault, Paul,” Mary said firmly. “We’re just glad everybody’s safe and back together.”

“Hear, hear,” Ochre muttered in an ironic echo of his earlier stoned sentiment.

Scarlet shot a bemused side glance in Ochre’s direction. “I thought I told you to take them to the armoury, Richard.”

“Hey, it was your mum who decided to take off when she heard you shouting. Uh, no offense meant, ma’am.”

“None taken, Captain. Paul knows we are just as stubborn as he is,” Mary replied, smiling faintly at her son.

Reciprocating the gesture, Scarlet turned back to face Xanthousia’s ruling prince. “Well, Aegean, I gave you my word. If you will grant me some time to consult with my colleagues and my parents, I think I may have a plan to foil the Nerites. It might just involve putting on a little play of our own...”

Chapter VIII

SITTING AROUND THE table in Aegean’s study, Scarlet briefly recounted the history of Xanthousia and its rival neighbours for his colleagues and parents, and expounded on his plan.

“We have to be realistic: we aren’t going to solve a millennia-old conflict overnight,” Scarlet pointed out. “But we might be able to arrange for a short-term ceasefire.”

“How?” Ochre asked doubtfully.

“Well, according to information from Neráid sleepers, since he became the sole heir to the Kingdom of Amaranthuca, Euboea has struggled to generate the levels of veneration achieved by his fathers. Thus, in order to consolidate power and rally public approval, Euboea has been campaigning to capture Xanthousia. The attempts at peace talks with him have all foundered. What is clear is that it is he who is the primary belligerent and he who will not back down; his government, and his people, they are the ones we must persuade otherwise. It is only through them that we might force Euboea to abandon his campaign – perhaps indefinitely.”

“Again, just how are we going to do that?” Ochre asked. “Stand in the street and distribute flyers?”

“We have more information about the Mysterons’ powers than we know what to do with. And therein lies the problem – or so Doctor Fawn tells me.” Scarlet frowned across at his companions, having temporarily forgotten just who was in his midst. “This is just the problem with the Neráides and the Nerites: they have stumbled upon remarkable innovations in science and engineering, but they don’t really understand what they have achieved and, instead, attribute it to some kind of holy blessing.”

Captain Blue picked up the thread. “Both Neráides and Nerites seem to possess a strong sense of faith, to the point of superstition. Are you suggesting that if we were to... play to it, then we might be able to influence the average Nerite against an all-out invasion?”

“Yes, exactly,” Scarlet replied, decisively bobbing his head at his friend.

“I see.” The general paused a moment to gather his thoughts, before speaking up again. “Paul, you said that negotiation attempts between these groups have failed?” He waited for his son to nod his affirmation, before continuing. “And conventional warfare would see the fall of these... faeries who kidnapped you, your mother and I?”

“You understand the situation, Dad.”

“Yes, I do, Paul, but I question whether it is Spectrum’s place to intervene in matters that don’t concern humanity.”

Scarlet flicked his eyes back and forth as he lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

“... Officially, Spectrum’s job is to broker peace in the international community, sir...” Blue spoke up.

“... including with non-human civilisations from under the sea...” Magenta chimed in. “Well, actually, that was concerning hu –”

“ – We’re all off duty, anyway, so does it even matter?” Ochre interrupted.

The general frowned. “Let me put it like this: if I was your commander-in-chief, and I learnt that you had failed to report significant information on an active investigation, I would consider having you court-martialled.”

“You’re the one who taught me that sometimes we need to fight for a better world, Dad. That rules should not trump reason; well, I have a good reason now.”

“He’s right, Charles,” Mary Metcalfe weighed in. “I don’t think you would feel any differently in his shoes.”

The general held up his hands. “You’ve made your points,” he sighed. “I concede. So run us by this plan of yours, Paul.”

Scarlet nodded his gratitude at his father. “I’ll explain the finer points later. My idea will only work after dark, so I suggest you all get a few hours’ sleep while I iron out some of the details and see that a message reaches Euboea. I hope we’ll be able to execute this tonight, but we’re going to have to be careful; we’ll be exposed to the elements and those nimbostrati don’t bode well for little munchkins like us... Alright, I’ll fetch you all at 1300 sharp. Let’s all wish ourselves luck.”

Chapter IX

A PERVADING MISTY chill seemed to signal a foreboding of the arranged meeting between the Neráides and Nerites as much as the looming precipitation. A dispatchment of envoys between the polities had established a set of rules for the negotiation to take place. Captain Scarlet’s plan hinged upon a home location, an agreement secured only with the balance that the Nerite representatives alone could present armed. It was a risky proposition and a violation of common sense; only Aegean’s relative trust that Euboea would uphold the legacy rules of engagement of his forebearers lent it any credence.

The confidence was paid in kind, as it was the King of the Nerites himself who fronted the small congregation that emerged from the darkness of the woods near the Royal Court. Euboea stopped at the edge of the clearing, abruptly raising a hand to signal to his followers to wait. In response, Aegean took a single step forward and pulled back his hood, before opening his cloak to demonstrate his lack of weaponry. The other Neráids repeated the gesture, with the general and captains following suit after a discreet nod from Scarlet.

Satisfied, Euboea tracked forward within several metres of Aegean, who steadfastly held his ground. Under a thick set of contacted brows, Euboea’s dark-grey eyes were as smoggy as the stygian clouds above. The thin line of his mouth was drawn down in a scowl amongst bushy facial growth, as his gaze circled the line of beings backing up the prince. For a split second, his gaze locked with Blue’s, and the captain realised that he couldn’t have been much older than Athan.

“Aegean!” Euboea bellowed. “What is the meaning of this summons? Explain yourself.”

“You have no power for such demands, Euboea. In respect, however, I will give you a reason.”

Without another word, the prince raised his hands up to his face and slowly clapped them together three times; gradually, the quiet sound of crying came to life. As the mournful resonance continued, the sea of assembled species turned their heads upwards, as it seemed the tears came from the heavens themself.

“What is that?” Euboea demanded, his gaze darting to cover his entire field of vision, as he instinctively readied his bow for firing.

“Do you not know who I am?” the teary voice asked. “I rise above you and shade you from the brightest rays of the sun so that together we can forever be reminded of my gravest mistake.”

“The cypress,” a Nerite said, pointing up. “Is that Cyparissus himself speaking?”

“What trickery is this, Aegean?” Euboea roared in anger, twisting his bow and arrow directly at the prince.

Captain Scarlet took several swift steps to stand in front of Aegean; at the same time the sobbing grew louder, emanating into the woods.

“Call yourself honourable, Euboea?” Scarlet thundered. “You dare to show such cruelty toward but a boy, one so beloved by the gods and by none more than Apollo?”

The faerie seemed to hesitate. “Who are you?” he demanded, obviously still suspicious.

“Kokkino, protector of the Neráides,” Scarlet answered. He tilted his chin up defiantly, as Euboea began to draw back the bowstring. “Uh-uh. You can kill me, but it will serve you no end. I may bleed like any man, but I have been granted the gift of self-healing from forces beyond us. I have come back from the dead many a time and I will again. It would be wise to listen.”

Euboea gradually relaxed the tension on the string, but maintained his aim. “Go ahead; speak your piece, but do not expect to end it without an arrow in your heart.”

Scarlet shook his head. “I was summoned here to defend the Neráides from your invasion. But I can only do so much, when the seeds of this war lie within the hearts of the men fighting it. I have appealed to Aphrodite, and she to her allies, to grant the boy Cyparissus a voice for this hour alone. It is to him I ask you to listen...”

Turning his head up towards the weeping cypress and the true-night sky, Scarlet called:

“Cyparissus! Those who are faithful know who you truly are and that the words you speak are your own and no deception. Dear boy, can you grieve and give guidance all at once?”

After long seconds, the sobbing subsided enough to allow the young voice to again speak. “Of wisdom... I do not know... All I am now is a memory of pain.”

“Your dedication to restitution has my respect, Cyparissus,” Scarlet said sombrely. “Dear child, will you ever grant yourself absolution?”

“O woe! For what I have done, there is no absolution. My betrayal should have rendered me at the mercy of Apollo. Instead, in kindness, he granted me a final wish, so that I could spend eternity in remembrance of the loss of my beloved stag. In kindness, he sacrificed a part of his own heart for me. My only guidance is to beware, beware of oneself and one’s actions.”

Cyparissus’ anguish soon overwhelmed him, coming in a steady torrent. Amongst the growing humidity and air currents, the assemblage soon felt the uncomfortable force of titanic droplets slam down upon them. The two heads were quick to order their people to the raised ground under the cypress. To the surprise of everybody present, neither Scarlet nor Euboea joined them.

“Your majesty, you must seek shelter!” one of his men urged.

“Hold position and keep aim,” Euboea barked, squinting in his steadfast gaze, as water soaked his raven hair and dripped down his face.

Scarlet suppressed a shiver as he stole a glance upward, moving only his eyes, before looking back at the bleary form of his opponent. It wasn’t over yet.

“Do you believe that when you gaze upon your reflection, it is your very soul that is staring back at you? Do you believe that Euboea?”

“I believe it.”

“Are you afraid to look?”

“Why should I be?” Euboea scoffed.

Captain Scarlet did not answer immediately. Lolling his head to one side, he produced a medium-sized blade from a pouch on his belt and studied it with singular interest.

“Why should you be? After all, we see ourselves every day: little glimpses when the sunlight catches off a window; in the Baths just before it ripples away on our entry...”

Euboea’s expression gained imperceptible discomfiture. “I...”

“Exactly. What we see is nothing but a spectre of our true values, of our souls...” Scarlet finally lifted his head up from his blade and locked gazes with Euboea. “So are you afraid?”

Euboea narrowed his eyes into a determined glare as he stared straight back at Scarlet, before opening his mouth to deliver a single word. “No.”

Scarlet nodded his head slowly, before holding out his knife. “Then take this.”

Euboea gave the object a cursory glance, before refocussing on Scarlet. “What is it?” he asked suspiciously.

“This? It’s what I use to shave my face. Go ahead, take it.”

Nodding to his people to ensure they held aim on the British officer, Euboea relented. Lowering his bow and arrow, he strode forward to retrieve the knife in one hand. “What now?”

“Look upon the blade. Do you see yourself clear? Good. Now wait. Do not cast your gaze away for aught until I give the word, for it is Time that reveals the truth of the soul to the gods. Are you sure that Apollo approves of your tactics?”

Euboea concentrated on his reflection in the blade, as Scarlet tucked his hands behind his back and silently counted off the seconds with his fingers. Concussive water drops continued to engulf the two men, as the drizzle strengthened into a comparative downpour, eventually drowning out the sound of weeping and making them visibly struggle to sustain their composure amidst the pain of exposure. It seemed far more than seven minutes had passed when the faerie king drew a sharp inspiration and abruptly pushed the knife back into Scarlet’s hands.

“Your majesty, what happened?” a Nerite asked in apprehension.

“What did you see?” Scarlet asked through gritted teeth.

“O πατέραϛ μου...” Euboea shook his head, before narrowing his eyes at Scarlet. “What kind of... sorcery is this?”

“Is that what you believe?”

Euboea grimaced, his breaths heavy as he let his gaze fall onto the blade in Scarlet’s hand. With a final long look at Scarlet, he addressed his fellow Nerites. “Men, fall back and keep to higher ground until the rain has ceased.”

He turned to face the prince. “Whether you have the favour of the gods, Aegean, I do not know. For now, you and your people will continue to rule over Xanthousia without any challenge from the Nerites. We will withdraw.”

“I can hardly believe my eyes and ears,” Aegean said. “Will you formalise your pledge?”

“On our next contact; but be assured Aegean, this is not the end.”

“Then we will be ready, Euboea. Until then, I look forward to our next meeting.”

Euboea begrudgingly nodded his assent, before turning away to brave the retreat with his fellow kind. Captain Scarlet watched their departure in silence; not until he was satisfied that they had truly left did he carefully scale a short distance up the cypress tree to a secreted hollow.

“I can’t believe that it actually worked,” Captain Ochre muttered to Magenta.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Superstition, suspicion and the power of suggestion are powerful concepts,” General Metcalfe commented.

“Something we know only too well fighting the Mysterons,” Blue said wearily, with the edge of a sigh. “I don’t know what we would do if we didn’t have Captain Scarlet.”

Recognising Blue’s veiled point, the general looked thoughtfully toward the cypress, from where Scarlet was returning with his mother. “Well done, Mary!”

Mary Metcalfe hid her flush of pleasure with a dismissive wave of the hand, before squeezing out the water from her hair. “All I did was talk through a megaphone. It was Paul’s efforts that really helped.”

“You played your part perfectly, Mum,” Scarlet opined, walking up just behind her. “The reflection illusion was merely the coup de grâce.”

“Regardless, without your joint contribution, we would never have been able to achieve this,” Aegean said, turning to the Metcalfes. “I do not know how I can ever thank you.”

Scarlet nodded his head. “You’re welcome. I think we should leave everything now until the morn, when the rain has passed...”

Though Captain Blue had been keen to leave Xanthousia and return home to Cloudbase, Aegean had been even more determined not to let the humans go without proper thanks, effectively cajoling them to stay for a final banquet with his usual charismatic manner. The intermittent rain had continued into the next morning, allowing time for the visitors and denizens to get some much needed rest after the recent excitements. By noon, the flash flooding had dissipated and the principality was again a hive of activity. Aegean had left Athan in charge of organising the banquet, while he and Euboea met to draft a formal ceasefire agreement. For the Spectrum officers and senior Metcalfes, there hadn’t been much to do until the night’s festivities, so they had made the most of the downtime to simply relax or explore the town – properly this time.

When it started, the night’s banquet rang like déjà vu for the colour-coded officers, with several exceptions. Firstly, extra stools had been added to allow Charles and Mary Metcalfe to sit between their son and the other members of Spectrum. Secondly, everyone present seemed much more carefree and willing to relax. The fact that Ochre and Magenta were both due back on duty in less than nine hours human time didn’t seem to dissuade them from wholeheartedly joining into the festivities.

“You know what?” Ochre enthused, as he finished his third helping of lasagne. “This is really good. What’s it called again?”

“Your pleasure is mine, Fásma Ammos,” Aegean said with an appreciative nod of his head. “We call it pastitsio.”

“Well, I think I might have to ask for the recipe for our cooks on Cloudbase. What kind of meat is this, anyway?”

“Grýlos.”

“In other words, Richard: ‘cricket’,” Scarlet supplied with a straight face, observing the grimaces his revelation evoked in his male companions.

Mary sent her son a look of reproof, but had trouble smothering a laugh as her husband reluctantly finished his mouthful with an audible gulp.

“I think I’ve had my fill, thanks,” Ochre said slowly, rejecting the offer of replenishment from an attendant, who had been hovering near him.

“Now that the Neráides have control of their hunting lands again, meat is officially back on the menu.” Scarlet looked across as the prince took a bite of lasagne. “I can’t say I was disappointed... poor things.”

“Coming from the guy who loves his steak.”

“It’s meat and two veg all the way, Adam,” Scarlet replied, exchanging a little smile with his parents.

Aegean waited until all the dishes had been cleared before standing up. “My people!” he called, raising up his hands to gesture for silence among the chattering faerie folk. “Today marks the beginning of the restoration of our lands, our peace and our glory. Tonight, we will celebrate our triumph as we farewell our saviour and his friends.”

“To the Fásma –Adam Ouranos, Patrick Iliovasilema and Richard Ammos –I offer my sincerest gratitude in aiding our liege to protect us.”

“To the lord and lady, Karolos and Maria, I assert my thankfulness for their forgiveness and dedication to our liege.”

“And to our liege and saviour Kokkino – son of Karolos and Maria – you are forever in our hearts and we are forever in your debt. After tonight, we bid you goodbye and hope that one day, maybe, we may meet you again. To our liege, Pavlos!”

His cheeks burning hot red, Captain Scarlet stood up with a particularly awkward smile. A pointed look to his companions on his left prompted them to follow suit. Linking hands, the six moved as one in a sweeping bow, resurfacing to the sight of a standing ovation.

“Now how about we get this party started?” Scarlet suggested to the crowd.

As the entertainers took their places and individuals began to mingle among themselves, Scarlet leaned across toward Blue.

“Adam – thanks.”

“What for?”

“For not giving up on me.”

Captain Blue gave his friend a genuine smile in reply, before Scarlet pointed to Ochre and Magenta who were together chatting to a pair of pretty female faeries.

“Happy thoughts, eh? Pity we’ll have to drag them away shortly.”

“Too right,” Blue agreed, before leaning back to enjoy the music.

The spirited trilling of the bouzouki rang out triumphantly into the night, blending with the timed claps of encouragement from the audience. Nobody was outright dancing, but there didn’t seem to be a single Neráid who wasn’t allowing the rhythm to inform their movements. The two older Metcalfes first watched, exchanging conspiratorial glances, before linking their hands and beginning to dance. Blue nudged Scarlet in the side and nodded in the direction of his friend’s swaying parents. Scarlet returned him a half smile.

“Hey, my parents are still on vacation, officially, remember? Come to think about it, I never got to finish my furlough...”

“Paul...”

With a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, Scarlet gave Blue’s shoulder a hearty squeeze, before he jumped up and jogged over to join his mother and father.

“Sure,” Blue muttered to himself. “Leave it to me to radio Cloudbase and explain all this, Captain Scarlet. Again.”

“Adam!”

Blue looked up to see Scarlet give him a friendly wave and beckon to him. Smiling internally, Blue held up his hand to politely signal his decline, before excusing himself to make the radio call.

Captain Scarlet was Spectrum and the Neráides’ hero, but it was pretty clear who were his. And virtually indestructible, or not, Paul Metcalfe needed the patience and understanding of his friends and family the same as any man.

After all, some people were worth the patience...

Author’s notes:

I want to thank Chris Bishop for looking over this story, for the title art and for posting it on her website. I do not own the rights to Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons, which was created by Gerry and Sylvia Anderson and originally produced by Century 21 Productions. I have attempted to take some care in my editing and research, however, there is guaranteed to be errors and/or omissions, which are copyrightable to me.

The two quotes referenced in the text are from Twelfth Night, or What You Will and the Columbo episode ‘Try and Catch Me’, respectively. The characters of Charles and Mary Metcalfe belong to, I believe, Mary J Rudy. Within this story, I am considering Chris Bishop’s All the Colours of the Rainbow to be canon. I should note the ending solution is unrealistic and amazingly optimistic, but hopefully not too ridiculous for disbelief to be suspended. Finally, the reference to Captain Black’s Greek heritage is taken from the CGI series– maybe that explains why he can pick a good coffee?

Some notes about the story: firstly, the fictional Xanthousia takes its name for the Autumn-esqe colour xanthous, as well as being a rhyming pun on Xanthorrhoea, the Australian grass tree. Secondly, the references to figures from Greek mythology are partially accurate (in a simplified manner of speaking) and partially adapted for convenience. Thirdly, the mirror illusion utilised on Euboea is based on the Troxler Effect (search for ‘Strange-Face-in-the-Mirror Illusion’ by G. B. Caputo on Sage Journals if you wish to purchase the article, or see ‘Monsters in the Mirror: No Really, Literal Monsters’ article by M. Stanley on Psychology Today for second-hand information) which, as I can attest to, does work. Fourthly, the concept of ‘Hypertime’ in adjacent physical spaces comes from the film Clockstoppers. Fifthly and lastly, I took some liberty with the Metcalfes perpetually-sedated state. In reality, this is very risky and would be associated with extensive side effects. Since this is fiction, and the faeries are ‘magical’, I chose to ignore realism.

I know the oversized cap sleeves of the colour-coded officers’ vests (or tunics) are probably meant to function like shoulder pads, but they simply remind me of the lace frills of the singlet I had when I was six. Now I am bound to think of fairy wings whenever I see the officers’ vests. However, the actual inspiration for this story was a newly-unveiled fairy garden at a community plot in my hometown.

I hope everybody had a good and safe Halloween and happy reading always.