A long spell of settled weather was forecast, and so the Saltire was loaded up and provisioned for her journey home. Once again we were able to request the marine bandsmen for a party, and invitations were extended to others, but unfortunately there was a rather nasty cold going through the ranks and they were unable to accept. It was quite a party and it was fortunate that it was scheduled for several days before the proposed departure, as it was in fact another week before the airship left the mooring mast for the last time.

The Saltire had the Sea Harriers dancing attendance, and a rendition of music which I think is from Rosenkavalier resounding in the cool afternoon air. The timing was for some reason to do with the reserves of Helium, I believe, and by some trick of acoustics we could hear the music for some time after the airship was out of sight.

I had gone up to the belvedere once the flight was inaugurated, and had remained there for some time, having taken the precaution of placing some warm wrappings and a rather comfortable folding chair which must have been in the trappings of some military gentleman at one time, to judge by the unfortunate hole in the back he must have been unaware that the enemy was within range when he last used it. I took with me some lemon and honey in hot water to ease my throat, for the illness which had kept the marines at home was now rampaging through the House, and all lessons were cancelled until the students felt better. I therefore lingered in the cosy nest I had made for myself for some time, so the first stars were appearing, and the slender crescent of a New Moon hung low in the sky when I heard a now familiar step.
‘Good evening, James,’ I greeted him rather huskily.
He wore a long Inverness and carried a large black satchel which I recognised as containing the equipment required for his travels. He looked grave, rather unlike his usual self, and I sat up.
‘Something strange has happened.’
‘Nothing unusual there then.’
‘’There has been a new development. We have not seen anything like it before, but it did not show up on our instruments, so when it might have happened is undetected, but we have no idea how it can be resolved, or even if it can be resolved at all.’
‘What is it?’
‘The Saltire and its crew, they were here returning Hamish, and they were also at home.’
‘Does it go back to the beginning of their journey?’
‘It seems to go back further than that. There seems to have been a point at which you decided to take a trip to the US which resulted in you being present at a celebration, in the original Panache attacked – except it might not have been the original – ‘
‘The man with the bad haircut who was here, but then was not – who made the virus affecting anything with oz in the message – ‘
Mister Brown frowned.
‘You should not be able to remember those things. They should fade away and resolve into the PSA.’
I had become used to Mister Brown’s speech – he was referring to the ‘present state of affairs’. I could not help but notice that his way of speaking was rather altered, possibly he had been spending too long in the company of German speakers since we last met.
‘The PSA should be that the man was not attacked due to Panache being tripped.’
‘But he then went on to tangle with another man dancing with his wife, or not. ‘
‘But it all began before then?’
‘Yes – I think that I need to establish a node centre here and keep a PON to find the STE.’
‘Is that likely to take much time?’
‘The PON has to operate in real time, or it isn’t a null, and I can’t make a NTPO here anyway, not without causing reflections.’